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#he'll let you sit in silence with him
yanderestarangel · 7 months
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HEADKANONS | JOHNNY CAGE MK1 WITH S/O
A/N: Yes, he's my favorite, please make requests for me with this man, I need ideas, I need requests- I'm obsessed for him. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.
TW: sfw, smut, fluff, sex, sexual positions, afab reader, pet names, vaginal sex, oral m!re. | f!re |, degradation, daddykink.
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SFW:
Johnny Cage is the typical golden retriever boyfriend, he will want your attention because we know he is an attention slut, not only applies to his fans but also to you, you need to keep in mind that when Johnny wants your attention, He'll get it one way or another, whether it's sending you countless messages, asking you for affection, or even begging you to stay with him, if you're the type to get angry and punish him with silence, he'll be very upset. bad, even becoming physically ill.
He loves being emotionally pampered, a lot of cuddling with him with his head in your lap, while the two of you watch a movie together in the living room of his mansion, while you massage his scalp and the light brown locks of his silky hair, he would be happy. smiling like a fool in love - which he is - even if you pointed it out, he would deny it with some typical joke of his, if you threaten to leave his side or stop making out with him he will pout and complain, a lot.
He also likes tight arms just enjoying the silence between the two of you, chaste kisses on his forehead or cheek are welcome, especially if you wear lipstick or gloss, he will smile sideways and run his fingers through the warm residue on your lips on his skin.
Johnny likes to show you on all his social networks, always taking selfies with you and posting them, stories talking to his fans but always with you by his side, he loves sharing some couple story about the two of you so that everyone can laugh at such a situation that you passed by, like the time he got the location of the award show he was going to wrong and you had to walk a long way to get to the right place, with Johnny carrying you on his back obviously, he wasn't going to make his beautiful S/O walk. If you're the shy type, he'll push you a little, not because he's mean, but because he wants to show you to the world, show the person who makes Johnny Cage happy, but if you still don't want to, he'll respect your decision, Even if it upsets him a little at first, he will still take photos of you and the two of you together, with various filters, from the cute ones to the most cursed ones he finds.
The two of you have a YouTube and Twitch channel together, he already had a channel so now you are a regular guest, after all you date him. Johnny loves just chatting in chat, or reacting to some edits and fanarts that his fans make of him live, he always thanks everyone and is satisfied, from the most amateur to the most professional, everyone is valid and valuable from Cage's perspective , and he also loves the edits with the photo and video of you as a couple, with you and him thanking you for your affection, he leaves the @'s of the editors and designers, encouraging their growth. In the lives it also happens that Johnny plays some games with you, his favorite is the horror genre, he loves seeing your reactions because you feel tense around him and the chat, he sits on a black gaming chair in the center of the camera and you or in the background or on his side - it's your choice - he also gets scared very easily so you can take advantage and poke his shoulder or arm during a tense moment in the gameplay, he'll jump and scream from his chair like a scared kitten while letting out a series of swear words - he may or may not have let his glasses fall to the floor and break one of those times.
Johnny lets you wear his clothes, he's very stylish, if there's something you like, you can wear it, he has enough money to buy a new and identical piece, but obviously there are clothes that he's more zealous and jealous of, he He'll even let you use it if you tell him you'll be careful, if you tear it or get it dirty, he won't do anything other than sigh and get irritated for a few hours, then go buy a piece like the old one and pretend nothing happened.
He also loves that you make him breakfast, he loves his food, his seasoning, the smell of warm food makes Johnny wake up in bed with a satisfied smile, seeing you in his kitchen, preparing everything for him, that's it. it also made his ego rise, but in a good way after all he has you in his life and no Hollywood award compares to having you as his partner, he comes up behind you and while hugging you, giving you a kiss on the head and smelling you, even though he's drowsy, he wants to be there with you, watching you make his breakfast with such care - Cage also whispers in a hoarse and low voice how much he loves you, thanking you for being so helpful to him and that will reward you later however you want -
The two of you play 'just dance' together, Johnny knows practically all the choreographies and makes you dance with him, whether you're good or bad at dancing, what matters to him is that you just have fun with him, and he's great at dancing, knowing move the hips extremely well and being very elastic.
Johnny loves sending you memes, posts, songs, everything he sees and remembers about you he will send you immediately, Johnny is the type who has a gallery full of memes that he never sent because he forgot, he is the type who sends more than +99 reels in less than 10 minutes, so if you two have been chatting don't be surprised if you get distracted and have more than 60 videos in your dm, each with a caption and context from Cage:
"I remembered you."
"LMAO you that day (Y/N)"
"That song is the one you like, isn't it?"
"lol that's so me"
"That food looks delicious, can we make it later?"
"pookie wookie"
"This film appears a lot in my fy, let's see it this weekend"
"Am I bbg in this edit?"
He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.
He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.
The two of you have a typical mean girls night together, with skincare, hair moisturizing, movies together and gossiping together, Johnny doesn't mind if you want to try makeup on him, or paint his nails - as long as it's black and he's not in No acting roles at the moment - he accepts it willingly, and he even likes it when you do eyeliner on him - he looks even more handsome, believe me. -
Loves to pamper you materially! Johnny is the type that if he sees that you are looking too much at a certain product in a store, he will pull you and enter the place, calling the salesperson immediately and buying everything you want, and I guarantee you, he knows exactly when you want something. or when you're lying that you don't want to because you're embarrassed, if you lie and try to say that you didn't want to, Johnny will get serious and immediately take the most expensive products in the store for you, as a form of "punishment" for lying to him. He will be able to take you to the concert of your favorite band or singer when he is off work as a Hollywood star or he will hire the singer/band you want to do a private show at his mansion, nothing is too expensive or impossible for Johnny Cage.
He loves romantic nights with you. Johnny will put on a fancy suit, hire a good buffet for a candlelit dinner with you, something he does practically every weekend, it has become a couple's tradition in your relationship. A good dinner and expensive wine, to end the night with the lights of the Cage mansion partially turned off, with you and Johnny in the large marble area, the only light was from the moon that entered through the large video window, with the song: "You rock my world - Michael Jackson" playing in the background, on the speakers of the luxurious room, with the two of you pressed against each other, just singing while dancing intertwined in a heat of passion and love. - Johnny loves this song because he says it sums up what you did in his life, you rocked his world in a way that he can only thank you internally for being the love of his life, and being the person he can count on always, even though he is sometimes too arrogant and proud to admit it, he always says: "-This song sums up what I feel and have always felt about you honey." -It's his way of saying he loves you, when he can't say it directly.
He hates to show it, but he is extremely insecure, after the separation from his ex-wife - Cris - he always asks you if you still love him or if you will leave him one day, this insecurity causes some jealous attacks when you go out, doesn't it? nothing serious, just Johnny sulking and asking you why you're so different with him - which you weren't - just make this man sure of your relationship, holding his arm or hand when you go out helps a lot, with him smiling stupidly in the corner because you're proud to be dating him, after all who wouldn't be? he is Johnny Cage after all.
He's extremely intelligent, so he'll love rambling about everything about you, movies, art, history, everything. He will talk about several topics at the same time, while his head is in your lap.
NSFW:
Recorded sex: He carries that stupid phone of his 24 hours a day, that is, this also applies to sex, he will fuck you practically making a movie every time, recording in HD all your reactions and how you fit your body to his so well , moans, juices of lust, your face salivating with pleasure, the nicknames, the dirtiest things, all recorded and saved in a folder with a password on his cell phone. He uses the videos to masturbate when he is traveling to direct a film as a director, he becomes needy and needs you by his side, having to settle for the homemade porn videos that the two of you make together, your pussy jumping on his dick in the video, his body, his reactions, as he whimpered, fucking his own dick in his hand, writhing on the hotel bed he was in.
Sex on the phone: Well, when the porn videos you made, he will call you, begging you to masturbate on call with him, either just vocally, or on video call, or exchanging nudes while the two of you did it.
"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."
Daddykink: Self Explanatory, he loves being called daddy by you, he himself has a habit of calling himself daddy in random situations, with an arrogant air. "-Leave it to Daddy, Baby." "-Oh yes, Daddy Johnny is here to sort it out." And this applies to sex, he will fuck you while you call him Daddy or Daddy Johnny - he loves that shit, it boosts his ego like hell. -
Degradation and praise: He loves to praise you and degrade you at the same time, he also loves to be praised during sex, especially when you do the "missionary" position, while he looked at your face, fucking your pussy with greed and hunger.
"-Do you want to cum, my naughty little slut?"
"-You really want my seed to fill your pussy, don't you? You're such a dirty slut, wanting to be bred by me. You want to mark you as mine, don't you?"
"-You're nothing but a filthy whore, begging for my cock."
"-You're such a good boy/girl, taking my dick in that tight, pretty pussy, like the good slut you are."
His favorite sexual positions with you: 69, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Scoop Me Up, The Seashell, The Pinball Wizard, Valedictorian, Table Top, The Lazy Man, The Snake, Stand and Deliver.
He also loves giving oral, he would really stay under your legs all day fucking you with his tongue if he could, in every corner of his mansion that he could, his tongue fucks you in the right spots, passing from your clitoris to the your entrance tight, his thick and firm hands keep you in place, holding the soft flesh of your hips, massaging the area in small circles with his thumb while looking into your eyes, while his mouth was too busy working for you. make you cum - maybe... Just maybe he rubs his nose on your clitoris to tease you, he has a big nose... Just maybe. -
Johnny likes blowjobs when he's angry, he likes to come home, have a good whiskey while sitting on the couch, and you between his legs, sucking him greedily, it was a relaxing sight, making Johnny remember the good things about life, you.
"-Yes fuck baby... Keep going... I really need to cum, you're my good boy/girl, sucking my dick so good."
Please squirt on this man! He loves to fuck you and make you squirt, whether with his dick, tongue, fingers or even vibrators - which you have to stimulate your pussy and his dick in some foreplay - Johnny just wants you to cum and get him all wet with your Sweet essence, the first time you squirted on him you were embarrassed, but he wasn't, he seemed to have discovered a new world, smiling like a fool.
"-Mmmm Johnny... I... Please take it off, I-" -You tried to speak between moans, while your pussy squeezed Johnny's cock more than ever, he felt something different, smiling sideways.
"-Fuck I bet that's a fucking squirt, come on, I want to see you squirt on my dick baby, this is going to be so fucking hot, just cum in that tight pussy." -Johnny says, thrusting his dick even more into your pussy, with all the strength and speed he could have in his hips at that moment, fucking you to the core, he gives a strong thrust, hitting his dick on your cervix, making you moan and squirt on his dick, abdomen and groin, dirtying him all over, while he smiled extremely happily.
"-I won't stop fucking you until you do it again baby." -He says smug with a cheesy wink, but he was serious, you were going to do that until he saw you squirt and cum like that again.
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
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"You're dead, Harrington!"
Steve sprints off down the hall, making a sharp left turn in hopes of losing him. He looks around at the doors, eyes settling on the drama room. Yeah, no one would guess that he would go in there.
He runs and easily pulls the door open, softly closing it behind him, leaning against the door to listen for Billy.
"You can't run from me!" he yells, somewhere outside in the hallway.
Shit.
Steve backs up a bit until he runs into something, and suddenly there's a hand covering his mouth with rings digging into his cheek while a bit of silver glints in his eyes. "Don't freak out, Harrington. I'm here to help. Hide behind the red curtain."
The guy lets him go, and Steve whips around taking in the guy everyone calls "The Freak." He just raises his eyebrows at him, so Steve takes the hint and darts behind the red curtains behind a throne of some kind.
There's a slight creaking, then Steve hears the door swing open and slam against the wall.
"Billy Hargrove. I didn't know you were interested in theatre," the freak says smugly. Eddie? That's his name, right?
"I'm not," Billy grits out. "I'm looking for Harrington. Seen him anywhere, freak?"
"Why would he be in here?"
Steve hears heavy footsteps as he walks closer to the curtain. "That's not what I asked," Billy says darkly.
"Well, I answered, didn't I?" Eddie replies, voice low with an undertone of danger. Shit, Steve didn't know he had it in him. "If you're so dense, then let me clarify. I haven't seen him. Now get lost or you'll never find him before lunch is over."
There's a pause, and Steve is certain that a fight is about to break out. Only, nothing really happens until Billy says, "One day you're going to pay for that, freak."
"Looking forward to it," Eddie says sarcastically.
A few seconds later and the door closes. There's a click that sounds like the lock turning which has Steve peeking out of the curtain.
"You can come out now."
Steve steps outside the curtain slowly, making sure this isn't some sort of sick joke. But he doesn't think Billy is that much of a planner, he's too impulsive.
When he doesn't spot him, Steve says, "Thanks. It's Eddie, right?"
The other boy looks surprised and even gets a small smile on his face. "Yeah."
"I'm Steve," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand and everything.
He gets a scoff and a, "Yeah, I know," in response, but Eddie still takes his hand and shakes it.
"I like your rings," Steve says genuinely. They're cool really. He wishes he would wear something like that without his parents and teammates getting onto him about it.
"Thanks," Eddie says, pulling a bit of his hair in front of his hair. It's cute really, almost like he's flustered.
Huh. He'll unpack that thought later.
"How did you get Billy to back off like that? I've never seen anyone do that." He can't help but be in a bit of awe about the whole thing.
Eddie chuckles. "I supply his weed. He knows better than to hurt me."
"Mabe I should start selling him weed then."
Eddie laughs loudly, showing off his dimples. Steve can't help but smile back.
"Hey," Eddie says, making his way to the throne and sitting back. "What did you do to get him that riled up anyways?"
Steve groans and takes a seat at the table in front of Eddie. "I know his little sister, Max. I just asked him how she was doing, and he freaked out. I think he misunderstood my tone."
Eddie laughs again, and Steve starts to believe that maybe the whole thing was worth it to see the boy's smile.
A silence settles between them, but Steve doesn't mind. It gives him a chance to look at him more.
It must fluster Eddie again because he ducks his head down and shakes his head.
"What?" Steve can't help but ask.
Eddie looks back at him. "Nothing, I just can't believe that Steve Harrington is sitting at my D and D table."
D&D... "Oh, that's like Dungeons and Dragons, right?"
Eddie's jaw drops. "You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?"
Steve shrugs. "My friend plays it, but he's in middle school, so you wouldn't know him. But hey, that's where the demogorgan thing comes from, right?"
Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief mumbling something under his breath like He's friends with middle schoolers, and he knows what a demogorgan is. What the hell? Am I dreaming? He shakes his head and says clearly, "Yeah, yeah, that's where the Demogorgan comes from."
Another silence settles between them, and Steve doesn't know why he says it but he asks, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"
Once again, it looks like Eddie is about to have a meltdown, but Steve stands his ground. He's curious really.
Eddie shifts in his seat a bit uncomfortably before quietly asking, "Haven't you heard the rumors?"
Steve leans back in his seat and scratches his face absentmindedly. He's heard about "The Freak" before, but he didn't really pay much attention. He knows he sells weed. He failed senior year once or twice, he forgot how many times people said. And he once heard that he's a...
Oh.
"So, do you have a boyfriend then?"
Eddie freezes, fear evident all over his tense body.
"It's fine if you do," Steve assures him.
Eddie runs both his hands over his face and questions out loud, "Am I dreaming?"
"Do you dream about me often?" Steve flirts, leaning forward on the table. He can't help it, he likes how affected Eddie is by him.
Eddie looks at him for a solid fifteen seconds, tongue running over his top lip and brows furrowed in deep thought. He relaxes against his chair with a sigh. "You're not at all what people say you are."
Steve shrugs, uncomfortable that the topic has turned to be about him. "I try not to be."
"It's a good thing," Eddie says.
Steve smiles. He didn't know how much he needed to hear that.
The bell rings, and Steve feels a pang of disappointment.
"Hey," Eddie says as he stands up alongside Steve. He reaches into his black metal lunchbox and pulls out a sandwich in a little bag and a banana. He tears the sandwich in half and offers it to Steve along with the banana. "It isn't much, but I doubt you ate lunch. Have to keep all our star players in shape, right?" he asks with a wink.
Steve wishes he could stay longer to see him relax more. He takes them both, unpeeling the banana quickly while asking, "Is that weed in there?"
"Among other things."
Steve laughs and takes a large bite of the banana that has Eddie looking away, turning a light shade of red. Now he really wishes he could stay longer.
He finishes his bite and says, "Hey, it was really nice to meet you by the way."
"You too," Eddie says with a soft smile, finally looking back at him.
The warning bell rings.
Steve sighs. "I'll see you around, and hey, pass on a word to the next D and D leader about Dustin Henderson, will you?"
"Will do," Eddie says, and Steve's glad that it sounds like a promise.
He heads to the door and unlocks it quickly, pausing to rush back and press a soft kiss on Eddie's cheek. "Thank you again," he says before rushing out of the room with his heart pounding and a blush spreading over his face.
He can't help but think that he should thank Billy for being such an asshole.
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hyunverse · 30 days
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wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.
hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.
wc: 12.9k words.
warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.
note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.
playlist.
Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.
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one.
“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”
It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 
Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight. 
He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence. 
After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show. 
“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.” 
Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.
To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes. 
“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.
Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.
In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.
You’re a girl. 
You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl. 
A very pretty girl.
It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it. 
His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 
“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”
Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you. 
Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.
He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him. 
“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.
“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.
Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose. 
“White!”
The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend. 
“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?” 
“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.
He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought. 
“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!” 
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”
You pouted, “but that’s what I want!” 
The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour. 
“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.” 
It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time. 
“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?” 
At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”
The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly. 
“You’re my best friend in the world!” 
Hyunjin felt like he could die. 
His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red. 
“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”
At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.
two.    
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.
It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet. 
Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.
“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.
“What?”
“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer. 
You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.
“Have you asked me the same thing before?”
He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”
“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”
“It so was!” 
Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said. 
You queried again.
“What did you answer then?” 
Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.
“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”
Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.” 
A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red. 
Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap. 
You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb. 
He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.
A fact you didn't want to accept.
It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories. 
In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”
“Hm?”
“Would you be wherever I am?”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.
It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.
They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.” 
Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you? 
Dear universe, be good to me.
You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly. 
“I’ll be wherever you are too.”
Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.
three.  
Don’t be a coward. 
Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage. 
It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you. 
Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could. 
Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could. 
Okay, step number one failed. 
“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.
“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”
“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.
“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin. 
Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.” 
Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 
“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”
Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.
“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff. 
Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.
It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell. 
Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.
“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”
Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.” 
The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.
Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked. 
Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”
He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.” 
“Yeah?”
You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.
“Hyunjin, what’s up?”
He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.
Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”
Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered. 
“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”
The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.
“You were saying?” 
Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin. 
“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.
So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.
“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”
four.  
The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue. 
It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head. 
“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after. 
“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger. 
Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next. 
Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.
“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper. 
On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over. 
“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”
“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.” 
Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you. 
“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are. 
He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now? 
Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.” 
A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug. 
“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.  
When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself. 
“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”
You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.” 
How was he meant to tell you about Paris?
“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”
Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more. 
Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall. 
“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.
“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.” 
You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.” 
Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts. 
His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead. 
Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck. 
Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need. 
“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
The exact words he did not need to hear that day.
How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now? 
Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 
five.  
Hyunjin had always loved soccer.
Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field. 
Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.
He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would. 
Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat. 
Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?” 
“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”
“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”
Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 
“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.
“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 
“Huh?”
“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.” 
Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.
“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”
“The fact that you like her?”
“Yeah.”
Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.
“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.” 
“Why?”
“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”
“I mean —”
Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”
The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side. 
“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”
Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back. 
“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”
Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it. 
Bitter truths, but true regardless.
six.
“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”
“Please, stay patient. Will you?”
Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.
“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!” 
“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.
After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink. 
Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.
The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense. 
Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in. 
You were as pretty as the flowers. 
“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you. 
From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness. 
“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”
Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms. 
Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.” 
Like a scene from a movie.
Like he wasn’t going away soon.
Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal. 
“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.
Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”
You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”
“You look good from any angle.” 
Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then. 
“Okay…”
Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.
“You didn’t even count to three!” 
Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.
“I wasn’t ready!”
“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”
“So you’re calling me pretty?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”
Right. He has never. 
You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.
Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo. 
Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 
If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.
“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”
Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience. 
“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”
“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”
“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”
Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him. 
“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his. 
Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 
Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too. 
If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey? 
He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.
Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours. 
Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.
Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.
Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway. 
“I win.”
The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face. 
“Oh.”
The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things? 
Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about. 
Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.
Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks. 
“See you soon?” you mumbled. 
Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.
You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way. 
Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face. 
Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.
“Yeah, see you soon.”
The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 
seven.  
One day before your birthday. 
It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.
“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.” 
She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all. 
“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”
“Of course.”
You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal. 
“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”
Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say. 
“My girl, did he not tell you?”
Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.
Was there? 
It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze. 
“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”
“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”
“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”
The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.
You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”
Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”
Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room. 
He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears. 
Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.
When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth. 
All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty. 
All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 
The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal. 
“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.” 
More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along. 
The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart. 
Your best friend was truly gone. 
“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.” 
The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn. 
If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter. 
“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”
The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more. 
“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”
It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay. 
You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse. 
Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.
In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.
eight. 
“Coffee, or tea?”
A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip. 
“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath. 
“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”
Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time. 
The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.  
“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”
The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do. 
Hyunjin wanted to turn back.
Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?
If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him? 
Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over. 
The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.
Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you. 
Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear. 
You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more. 
As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.
The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment. 
No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five. 
Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time. 
His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you. 
Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
nine.  
There are five stages of grief. 
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things. 
Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.
Motivation.
After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them. 
Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.
Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.
Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it. 
Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.
Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries. 
“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!” 
The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip. 
Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking. 
Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.
He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 
Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.
“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”
“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man. 
You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.
“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”
Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”
“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”
How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap. 
You were confused.
Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”
You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”
She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”
Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back. 
It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.
Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.
“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”
“Secret lover?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”
Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.
How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?
Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue. 
Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.
ten.
You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.
For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?
Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.
Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.
In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.
A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it. 
9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.
One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.
After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.
The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty. 
They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin. 
Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.
It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.
There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia. 
The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized. 
It was a fragment of your memory. 
Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved. 
A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face? 
You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display. 
Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.
Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece. 
When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy. 
Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.
“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible. 
The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you. 
Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.
“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”
A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.
“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”
“It’s you, too. You’re here.”
Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch. 
“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.
You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears. 
“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”
“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”
“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”
Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.
“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”
Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.
“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”
“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”
Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.
“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”
At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.
“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”
And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up. 
I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.
Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other. 
“Please, give me a second chance.”
It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.
“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”
“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.” 
He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.
“It's always been you.”
eleven.  
“Careful — come on, get under here.”
Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love. 
You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. 
Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot. 
Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.
“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.
While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”
“How’d you find this place?”
“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”
Your heart swelled at the confession. 
“It does resemble that one a lot.”
The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that. 
He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear. 
“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”
For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”
The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.
Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled. 
“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”
“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”
“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”
“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”
The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”
You kissed him, for the second time that night.
“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”
twelve.  
Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 
After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”
You couldn’t deny it, of course.
Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint. 
It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.
After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over. 
Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.
“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”
“Then come cuddle.”
He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend. 
“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”
Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”
Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one. 
“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”
To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body. 
“You coming to the exposition?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”
“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”
He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. 
You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.
Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs. 
Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.
Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.
Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.
Over a week ago. 
Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 
After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed. 
“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”
You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.
thirteen.
You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.
The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment. 
Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again. 
Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.
“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”
“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”
Damn you, Reine. 
Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.
“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”
It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.
You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper. 
You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.
“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”
Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?
Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 
“You’re hiding things from me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”
Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.
“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”
Ah.
Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.
“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”
“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”
“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”
You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way. 
Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.
“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”
“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”
“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”
“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."
A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.
Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.
"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."
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jukednuked · 8 months
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lyney the type of guy to 'recharge' his magic by kissing you
lyney the type of guy who'd send one of his hat pigeons to deliver you a love letter (it turned into confetti after being read)
lyney the type of guy to let you carry him on your back because he's 'tired' (blud wants to be as close to you as possible)
lyney the type of guy who'd apologize to you by making a bouquet of flowers appear out of nowhere
lyney also the type of guy who'd value what you both have a lot, he'll get real serious if he senses any type of resentment after an argument
lyney the type of guy to teach you a magic trick or two, like how to steal someone's heart maybe?
lyney the type of guy who'd be so good at pick up lines that it's almost frustrating how he can make you feel like jelly in a split second
lyney the type of guy who'd never, ever let you come to his house in hopes of avoiding a certain harbinger (blud doesnt want you to get put in a meat grinder)
lyney the type of guy to massage your shoulders frequently because seeing you all satisfied makes him feel like he can take care of you
lyney the type of guy who'd jokingly bite you one time because you just look too cute (it will become more than one time)
lyney the type of guy who'd beg you to become his assistant in one of his magic tricks involving a box and a saw because lynette refused
lyney the type of guy who'd trace shapes on your hands whenever you feel upset and just want to sit in silence
lyney the type of guy who'd get real sad if he doesn't find you in the audience when he's having a magic show, might fumble over his words and accidentally make a snake appear rather than a cat
lyney the type of guy who'd tell you to throw tomatoes at him like he's a medieval criminal if he ever fails a magic trick
lyney the type of guy who uses the thought of you as a way to cope with his past
lyney the type of guy who'd show off his magic to you whenever you compliment someone else just for you to go wowowoww lyney!!
lyney the type of guy who conveniently always chooses you as guest of the magic show
lyney the type of guy to get you a matching hat just like his one, just a different colour
lyney the type of guy to have a diary<33 every page involves your name at least 1-2 times
lyney the type of guy to slide notes with angry faces drawn on them under your door whenever you forget to give him his goodmorning/afternoon/night/literally-every-part-of-the-day kiss
lyney is that guy
A/N: my sincerest apologies @strawberrylabs if you look closely you can see the blood, sweat and tears i shedded writing this😓🙏 i secretly wanted to switch it to the most gut wrenching angst mid way but im soooo nice
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chaepink · 8 months
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I have a small question! Can we get some time whenever you are up for it, Maybe some more of the Yan!sub boys? c:
pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡ pt. 2
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pathetic yet adorable yandere boys that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask them to do.
wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part one
dom!reader, previous stalking, unhealthy relationship, pet play, bondage, use of blindfold, mention of strap/cock, mention of choking, mention of marking
note: part two cause part one did so well!
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Yandere subs that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask, sexual or not. Ask them for some homework answers? They'll steal the answer sheet for the week's homework for you from the teacher's desk undetected. You've been craving certain snacks and tell them that? Weird enough, you find a pile of those snacks on your bed the next day with a note that has a heart on it that lets you know exactly who it's from.
But in bed? That's a whole different story. Believe me when I say that they want to feel weak and small underneath you in bed. Choke them, spank them, edge or overstimulate them, and they'll babble out 'thank you's to whatever pleasure you're giving them. Such a good boy that just wants to be obedient for you.
Tell them to sit? They'll sit mere seconds later, looking up at you for your next command. Tell them to make you feel good? They'll make you cum as if their life depends on it. You're gonna have to yank their hair so that they don't overstimulate you, making them whimper at the pain as they look up at you with sad puppy eyes, asking you what they did wrong.
They're so desperate to please you that they'll hack into your phone to search your search/porn history for stuff that you want to do to them but haven't asked yet. It's not like you haven't caught them doing so either.
You like pet play? You find them in your room with nothing but a collar around their neck, a leash that's connected to said collar on the floor in front of you as if its beckoning you to grab it, a pair of cat/bunny/dog ears on their head that looks so real that its as if they're actually connected to his head, and- oh? whats that buzzing? Turns out that they put in a tail vibrator in themself too! what a surprise! How about you call them a good boy and fuck him until he can't think anymore as a reward? Watch as he mewls like a slut when you take out the vibrator before pushing it back in him.
What about bondage? Well you'll find them tied up oh so prettily on your bed with some red rope that compliments their skin so well. They'll already be prepped, of course, not wanting to waste time on it so that you'll fuck them quicker. Maybe they'll even have a blindfold on which will heighten his other senses. So how about you touch him all over so that he begs for you to just fuck him already. Don't listen to him though, just continue teasing him until he's soaked the blindfold with his tears and as his dick leaks out pre-cum, desperately humping the air to seek any friction. what a slut!
Turn them into such a mess that all they can think about is the way your strap/dick is hitting all the right spots in him as they lay there taking it all so well. Make him scream out in pleasure, the sounds filling the room which would surely end with an angry complaint from your neighbors complaining about the noises the following day. But he doesn't 't care, why would they when you're fucking him so well?
They're so horny that they're willing to tease you in public just so you would punish them. With some friends and he tagged along? He'll innocently grab your hand to place it on the bulge in his pants, making you widen your eyes and glare at him before he reaches forward to grab something. This makes his shirt ride up which just barely shows the pair of lace panties he's wearing underneath that are peeking out from his pants. How about you drag him to the bathroom and finger him until he cums, a hand on his mouth to silence his loud moans, hm?
About to leave the house to go somewhere with a friend? He'll say goodbye to you wearing the sluttiest outfit right when you're about to exit the door, his ass practically out and dick bulging against the fabric. You can't resist how good they look so you quickly text your friend that you have to cancel and to meet up another time before shaking off your belongings and rushing towards him with hunger in your eyes. Sure you feel bad for your friend but thats the last thing on your mind, the outfit on your yandere being the only thing that you're thinking about at the moment. The way you're looking at him makes them feel so small as if they're the prey and you're the predator but oh do they love it so much.
You know their antics are just to rile you up but you can't ignore them, not when you want to make them scream your name so bad and make them cry from pleasure. It's not your fault, really.
It's not like they're complaining either. They'll gladly get on all fours and present their lubed up ass to you the moment you tell them to. They'll turn their head back to look at you with eyes that absolutely begs you to ruin them. They're just a mere toy for you to use for your own pleasure after all.
Do whatever to them, they'll take it all like a good boy. Leave marks on him so that he can be reminded of the previous night, filthy thoughts flooding his head as he gets hard again. He'll stare at them in the mirror, heading tilting up to look at the small bruise around his neck from your choking. The red mark on his waist is obvious, reminding him of just how hard you gripped it to fuck him even deeper and faster.
Everything you do just makes them even more obsessed with you but you don't mind. After all, you're just as obsessed with them as they are with you.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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cloudzoro · 2 months
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Getting Caught | One Piece ♡
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Getting caught having sex with your man by one of his friends.
reaction/headcanon requests for jjk, one piece, haikyuu, fmab & death note (male & female characters) are OPEN!
masterlist | request rules
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
genre: smut (minors dni)
characters included: ace, crocodile, zoro
cw: dirty talk, pet names, threesome, size kink, public sex, voyeurism, big dick!zoro, possessive behaviour, Zoros one kinda made me 💦🤭🥵💫 while I was writing it
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Ace
Ace has been visiting your home a lot recently. Since the two of you started dating, he promised not to be gone too long. When you do finally get him back, you're all over him.
He's sitting on your couch while you're on his lap. You grind down against his cock, which he had pulled out of his shorts. The brim of his hat presses against the back of the sofa and prevents him from getting comfortable, so he takes it off of himself and places it on your head. The sight of you stripped naked in just his hat has him bucking his hips up into you.
“sit on my cock, pretty girl,” he says. “Let me fuck you, baby.”
You reach down and guide his cock into your hole. He helps you sink all the way down onto him, and when he finally bottoms out, you moan in his ear. He holds you still as you clench around him. He knows if you start moving now, he'll cum almost immediately.
“Please fuck me, Ace”, you whine before kissing him. He hums into your mouth and slowly ruts upwards. As soon as he moves, the door swings open. Ace is quick enough to grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around you while pulling you to his chest, blocking any possibility of whoever just walked in seeing you naked.
You look to the doorway to see Marco standing there. He seems embarrassed and as if he's trying not to laugh.
“I was just coming by to see how your reunion is going”, he says, a smug grin plastered on his face.
“It's doing fine; now beat it!” yells Ace, throwing a pillow in his direction. Marco runs, but not before yelling through the now-closed door.
“Nice hat, y/n!”
Crocodile
He has you on your back, legs pushed up to your chest as he fucks you. He's so deep inside you and so big that he attacks all your senses. You couldn't focus on anything else if you tried. You can feel his palm pressing against the tiny bulge in your stomach.
“Can you feel that baby? Feel me deep in your pussy?” his voice has you clenching around him. The room smells of smoke and sex, and it makes you so dizzy that you can barely respond to him. You let out a long whine and nod. Crocodile laughs from above you. “Can I flip you over?” he asks. You whine a yes, and he flips you onto your hands and knees.
A large, heavy hand pushes you down against the sheets. He pushes back into you and the new angle makes you scream into the fabric beneath you. Every thrust sends you forward into the mattress, and Crocodile does absolutely nothing to hide your moaning.
A few minutes later, you hear a loud banging at the door, and before either of you can move, Mihawk swings the door open as if he's completely unaware of what you are doing.
Your husband pulls you upwards so your back is against his chest and wraps his big arms around you, covering your most intimate parts. There's a beat of silence before Mihawk launches into a flustered tirade.
“You two are completely inconsiderate. Do you ever fucking shut up?” While he continues ranting, Crocodile leans down to speak in your ear.
“Look at him; he wants us so bad,” he whispers. He's not wrong if the flushed skin and raging boner are anything to go by. “Do you wanna invite him in?” he asks, paying no mind to Mihawk's scolding. When you nod, your husband drops his hands away from your chest and between your legs. Mihawk goes silent now that your body is exposed to him. “She has another hole for you,” says Crocodile, pressing his fingers against your lips. You obey his silent command and open your mouth to suck on his fingers. “y'know if you want help with that,” smirks your husband, gesturing to the tent pitched in Mihawk's trousers.
Mihawk considers the offer for a minute before approaching the bed. Crocodile lets go of your body and pushes you back down as Mihawk pulls his cock free from his trousers. You lick up the underside of his cock and then take him into your mouth, relaxing into taking as much of him as you can. You can hear verbal encouragement from both men, but you're not focusing on the words at all; you're too busy being stuffed with cock.
Zoro
Zoro can't keep his hands off of you, you've been at a bar for all of ten minutes and he's itching to pull into the nearest bathroom and fuck you stupid.
“Baby, come on,” Zoro says, pulling your back against his chest as you stand at the bar. “No one will even notice we're gone.”
Your boyfriend is impossible to resist and you let him drag you to the bathroom. He pins you against the wall, kissing you as he pulls his cock free. He holds his hand in front of your face, instructing you to spit in his palm. He uses your saliva to lube up his cock before lining himself up with your cunt and pushing in. You pull Zoro into another kiss, much nastier and messier than the last. His hips rock into you, cock dragging against your sensitive walls.
“Hold on to me, pretty girl”, he groans as you cling to his shoulders. He fuckss you harder, intending to make you cum as quickly as possible so he can get you home and really take his time with you. Neither of you realise that you didn't lock the door until you notice a blonde man with a familiar pair of eyebrows staring at you in shock.
“Zoro, Sanji's here,” You whine, slightly embarrassed. He knows; he heard Sanji coming in. He just doesn't care. At this point, almost nothing could stop him from making you cum.
“Let him watch. Let that shitty cook see what he'll never have” The cocky smile on his face makes your pussy drool. Zoro isn't jealous; he has no reason to be, but he has one of the nastiest possessive streaks you've ever seen in your life. “This pretty pussy is all mine, right baby?”
“uh-huh” is the only pair of syllables you can form as he fucks you so hard you fear you might crack the wall. You're not lying, though. Every part of your mind, body, and soul belongs to Zoro and vice versa. Sanji tries to focus on glaring at the swordsman, but he keeps getting distracted by your exposed skin and pretty noises.
“Cum for me” He emphasises the word ‘me’ reminding both you and Sanji that every drop of cum that leaks from your sweet pussy is his. Your body follows through on the command, shaking in his grasp as you cum. Both men stare at you in awe. Zoro cums soon after, unable to stand the way your cunt pulses around his sensitive cock any longer. “Get out of here,” Zoro growls, voice startling Sanji back to reality and he hurries off so you and Zoro can clean up in privacy.
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thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)
comments and reblogs are massively appreciated ♡
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blanketbvby · 2 months
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Solomon who gives off raw humanity after you actually get to know him. He's just a lovesick, scarily powerful, fool. He'll sit there for hours and ramble about magic and TSL and pacts and his work to you if you let him. Ask him about his star obsession, urge him to tell you stories about his travels and findings and adventures. But please, please remember that he's more than just some immortal sorcerer capable of great things, hold him from time to time, sit and just exist with him, please.
Let Solomon be human with you. He's so used to carrying the weight of humanity on his shoulders, sometimes he forgets he's only human, too. He might be fun and he might be strong and he might be wise, but it's been too long since he's had someone hold his hand and glide their thumb over his knuckles.
Please let him ramble about the rain or the way trees creak or the way stars twinkle like they're laughing. Please let him take you to different places and get excited with you over things he's purposefully never sought the answer to in order to keep a part of himself curious. Please sit with him in the silence of each other and just let him let his guard down.
Solomon who wants to be human with you. Solomon who is human with you.
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justporo · 5 months
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Headcanons about living with Astarion
I thought about some of this lately and since yesterday's warmup got out of hand... (Behold him lounging:)
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First things first, if you think living with Astarion will be neat and organised just because he himself always looks put well together: you are in for a surprise
This man - as much as he cares for aesthetics - tends to be messy
Especially since it's been forever that he could actually have and keep stuff, so expect books everywhere, cups left on surfaces, stuff laying around on the floor (and let's be honest, growing up as a noble before didn't teach him anything about being domestic...)
He'll learn though, especially when you reach a point where you could almost throw stuff at him (but he still struggles with it and him buying so many books surely doesn't help)
Astarion is basically cat: lounging everywhere - no surface is safe! Although a comfy sofa or chaiselongue are preferred spots!
Especially when you've sat somewhere and it's still nice and warm and smells of you; "Was that your seat, darling? Well, not anymore!"
But then he would pull you in with a chuckle and have you cuddle up on his lap and also refuse to let you go ("Love, I've only just gotten comfortable, you can't leave now!")
What he lacks in order he makes up with style - to a point it might make your blood boil: "Astarion, please, I couldn't care less if the red of the drapes matches the pillow cases!" "Yes, well, darling - don't take it personally - but I wouldn't have expected you to care anyway." Then he has to dodge several pillows being flung at his head)
Astarion leaves little notes for you to find, like for example if he's gone to run some errands or maybe just because - to tell you he loves you; at some point it kind of becomes a game of him hiding notes somewhere in the house and waiting how long you take to find them - scolding you if you take too long! ("My sweet, a trained donkey would have found it by now! Open your eyes, love, you can't possibly be that distracted by my beautiful face!")
Astarion learns about companionable silence with you - obviously he's very chatty and you love nights just wasted away with talking and joking - about everything and anything; but he also learns how pleasant it can be to just sit there, all cozied up with you and feeling the deep peace of easy silence with you
That or spending some quality time together: him spending time with reading or doing embroidery, you with drawing, also reading or anything else - as long as you're together
At least for a while Astarion really enjoys having a place where he can just... be; obviously this eager little vampire can't sit still forever but he revels in the knowledge of having a place he can always return to, somewhere to be safe and comfy, somewhere he can always be with you
Alright - at least that's how I could very well imagine living with Astarion might be, hihi. This man keeps living in my head - by now I'm sure he's changed my brain chemistry forever, for good...
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nomercyanywhere · 4 months
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mr. gojo and his cute but dumb little student (non-con ish + mentioned pregnancy :3)
ー ー ー ー ー
its already dark outside, the ac buzzing is the only thing filling in the silence right now. that, and his shoes tapping on the wooden floor waiting for you to finish answering the extra activities he had given you.
"tell me if you need any help okay?" he's sat on his desk, reading and checking paper. you had been failing his subject and he's got no other choice than to give you extra lessons., you nod at him, looking back down om your paper, you're so certain that most of your answers are wrong. you called him three times already.. oh, how desperately you wanted his help with this question, but you can't help but feel guilty! he's already explained the topic and methods or techniques you could use, countless of times.. if only the piling papers on his desk would just disappear so all of his focus would be on you!
its been an hour, already seven at night, almost all the school staff has left. mr. gojo was sure that only you two were the only ones left in school.
"uhm.. sir? aren't you tired?" you let go of the pen, and wiped your sweaty hands on your uniform. you prayed to the gods that he'll make you go home. you waited for his response.. he looked at the clock, and sighed "are you done? if so then hand me your paper and you can go home." oh god, you could tell he was exhausted, the circles under his eyes were already very dark, not the mention the amount of times he laid his head on the desk.. you gulped "i.. have only seven more questions left sir..." you embarrassingly admitted. he stood up, causing the legs of his chair to loudly drag the floor, startling you a bit. the buzzing from the ac was no match to how loud your heart was pounding.
when he got your desk, he wrapped his left arm around your chair and bent down next to you, scanning your unfinished paper. you felt the heat from his face, could even hear his breathing.
"c'mon, i taught you this already.." you heard the tired and annoyed in his voice. how humiliating, "what the- how did you even get that?" he stood straight, rubbing his face with both his hands before dragging another chair and setting it down next to you. "c'mon, could you tell me how you got your answer? hm? how did this equal to that." you were scared, the pressure in the atmosphere made your tummy churn. "i.. i- i dont know.." your throat was dry. you couldn't think. couldn't even hold the pen properly.
the more he asked you questions, the more the noticed how nervous you grew. satoru heard the shake in your voice whenever you answered him. he couldn't help but feel bad for you, so cute and handsome yet so dumb.
he sighed, getting up and walking to his desk again. "come here.. and bring your paper" he beckoned you, so, not wanting to agitate him even more, you quickly grabbed your paper and pen. on the outside, you were as pale as a banshee, while in the inside, a small bit of you jumped in relief and exciting because he'll finally let you go home. if only you knew, how wrong you were.
toru checked the time, 9:58pm, if he were at his house around this time, he'd be resting by now, but no, who would've thought he'd have the schools dunce sitting on his lap, squirming and moaning.
"tch... last fucking question, c'mon." he fucked your sensitive cunt while watching you dirty your own paper with drool, sweat or cum and what not. you had dropped the pen an hour ago, but you were too fucked silly to pick it up. "no offense, but were you dropped on the head as a baby? even elementary schoolers could answer this." you only respond with small whines and mews.., at this point, you've already lost count of how many times you've squirted on him and on yourself. clit pulsating so much and your poor sweet spot getting abused by his ridiculously long, thick fingers. "fuck me... what's the prime number before nineteen? do you fucking know the answer or not?" you shook your head, "mnoo.. sir i dont knooow.." you held his hand, which were way bigger than yours, in place as to stop him from finger fucking you.
he yanked your hair back, forcing you to take a good look at the scowl he's wearing. how'd you even get in college being this stupid?
"It's seventeen, it's fucking seventeen, say it.," he had a tight grip on your jaw "s-seventeen... nnhh..", "good fucking boy, now, y'know what else is seventeen? hm?" he had on a smug smirk, "w-what..?" he pulled out his hot dick and splayed it in between your soft thighs. "the amount of times you're gonne be cummin' on this fuckin' cock~" ah- is that even a normal size for a human? he was too big! too long and too fat! how could you possibly take all of him?!
1:13am, your feet off the ground, the papers now torn, crumpled and scattered on the floor. your tongue hung out while saliva seeped from the corner of your mouth and tears spread all over the other students papers, loud moans along with grunting now drowned out the annoying buzz from the ac.
"ah fuck, holy shit if this keeps up m'gonne get cha fuckin' pregnant hehee~" he's already came inside you five times, and you've wet yourself ten times! you felt like you were gonna die! by god, you knew you were gonna pass out if you came one more time. "ya feelin' the smart yet? im fuckin' the stupid outta ya y'know? five more loads then you'll outshine the top student of the school~!"
ー ー ー ー ー
a/n: woah, i kinda went ham on this one i think
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kaevch · 1 month
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CRAYONS N LOVE !!
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IMAGINE, you turned into a child due to some accident that occurred in potionology and the adeuce duo hand you over to them to take care of you while they try to find the cure and after spending the whole day with them, you— being a child, drew them to show how much fun you had with them :)
gn! reader. (you/your pronouns)
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MALLEUS:
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“ Horntoon! ”
Letting out a hum, the fae turned to you with a gentle smile, slitted eyes landing on the piece of paper you held up for him to see.
A proud, toothy grin sat on your lips as you presented your work to him, the smell of wax and dull colours filling his view.
“ This is...? ” he mumbled, quite baffled at the messy drawing of what seemed to be..him? and you. Well, little you.
“ I droo you n me! ” a cheerful giggle escaped your lips as you handed him the paper, puffing your chest out in pride.
“ We sud play more! And and talk about gargooles! ”
...
yeah he stared at you with a mildly surprised expression for a few moments before chuckling to himself and holding your tiny hand in his.
“ Yes, we should play some more. ”
safe to say our boy keeps yo drawing framed and nicely kept in his room and treasures it sm 🙏🙏
he'll look at it in his lowest moments while he rots in bed and just smile at it which looks kinda creepy without context but he lobes you thas what that matters right.
FLOYD:
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“ Shrimpyyy? ”
“ Shrimpyyyyy?? ”
“ Lil' Shrimpyyyyyy??? ”
Getting ignored by a tiny version of you was not what the eel was planning on.
Stalking up to your small figure, Floyd was about to lunge a tickle attack before pausing, blinking owlishly as he took a closer look at what you were doing.
“ What are ya doing? ”
“ Oh! Floid! ” smiling up at him, you watched as he crouched down next to you, his attention being taken by the bright colours of crayons that sprawled out in front of you, some pieces of crumpled paper on the side, but what he was really focused on was the paper you were currently drawing on, small doodles of bubbles and little fishes surrounding two figures. a small child and a man that looked cartoonishly similar to him.
“ Is you! N me! ” you replied to his previous question, continuing to colour a sharp toothed yellow emoji on the side.
“ Jade helped me drow the cloths! ” turning your attention back to him you smiled, tilting your head to the side as you picked up the paper and showed it to him properly.
“ D'you like it? ” you questioned, getting a bit worried from the silence and lack of reaction from him.
...
“ Like it? ” the eel mumbled ominously, picking you up from your spot on the floor.
“ I LOVE it, shrimpy! It's so silly and tiny and messy! ”
Laughter filled his room as he spun you around, flopping down on his bed as you two continued to giggle.
“ Say, did ya draw more shrimpy? I wanna see all'o them! ”
he wont really frame it, more like he js keeps it sitting on top of his table but he doesn't toss it or keep it carelessly like he does w some of his books 💪
he prolly brings it up to you when you've finally turned back to normal, saying how u should draw him n u more often 😞 n that its cute 😞😞 n that he'll get reallyyy sad if u dont 😞😞😞😞
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spideyhexx · 4 months
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wanna sit between sejanus' legs while sej teaches coryo how to finger someone😵‍💫
anon I want you to know, I saw this last night before I went to bed and the scream I internally let out was insane 🫶 and I have not been able to stop thinking about it🫶and as you will see I did not hesitate with this!
Maybe you've experimented with small makeout sessions between you and Coryo while Sej watches and then the boys would switch, but that's as far as it's gone.
And Coryo let's it slip he has no idea how to pleasure a woman, so Sej decides the next night you're all together, he'll help him out.
Coryo sits near the end of the bed as you sit between Sej's legs, completely naked with your back to his chest. All of your faces are flushed and Sej knows he's gonna have to take the lead here.
"Now with my girl here, a few kisses would be a good start, but I think she's already worked up so we'll skip that," he says, his breath hitting your ear and you're blushing even more. You can't even look Coryo in the eyes, you feel so exposed and you love it.
Sej gently caresses your thigh, urging them to open more. "Be slow, not too fast, gotta build up the anticipation, right honey?" Sej presses a kiss behind your ear as his fingers trail like a ghost touch up and down your thigh. He'd continue this slow tease as Coryo watches in silence. Sej's fingers move closer to your heat, finding your clit.
You let out a gasp and you feel Sejanus smile against you. "She needs this spot rubbed, slow at first but then you can move a little faster, she'll be squirming in no time." You take the chance to look at Coryo and he looks entranced. He's looking directly at Sejanus' fingers, expertly toying with your clit as you feel your hips stir.
"Can hold her hips or thighs down if you want her still." Sej does what he says, using his free hand to hold you as still as possible and that's when you let out a moan.
Coriolanus locks eyes with you then, his mouth parting a little and his hand resting a little too closely to his crotch. "Then, after playing with her like this for a bit, you can..." Sej trails off, dipping his fingers down to rub them through your folds, gathering your wetness on them. You lean your back against Sej's shoulder but he tsks. "look at Coryo, sweetheart." You do as he says.
"She's obedient," is the first thing Coriolanus says and Sej chuckles.
"Sometimes."
You smile at that and Sej teases his finger at your entrance. "start with one finger, then give her two. She likes small thrusts and when you curl them just a tad and don't forget about her clit." Coryo nods, and Sejanus pushes his finger into you, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit.
He does this slow and purposeful for a bit before adding in a second finger. Your hips buck against his hand despite his hold and Coryo moves forward to hold you down, his warm touch surprising but very welcomed. He smirks at you before watching Sejanus pleasure you once more.
After a couple more moments, Sej removes his touch completely from you, making you whine. "Do you want to try now?" He directs to Coryo and the man nods.
They switch positions, Coryo letting out a ragged breath as you press back against him. You choose not to say anything about how hard he is, even though you all knew.
Then, you learn that Coryo is a rather quick learner. He repeats everything Sejanus told him and it's even easier since you're worked up from Sej's touch.
The moment Coryo's fingers curl against the right spot, you're moaning loudly, gripping onto his thigh and Sej holds you down so Coryo could use his free hand to rub at your clit, his speed quickening the more you moan.
Sej would let out little praises under his breath, for you or for Coryo?
You're not sure.
You hear Coryo swallow and let out a breath before he whispers, "c-can I make you cum?" It's an odd, but endearing question, because wasn't that the end point for this anyways? But regardless, you nod. "I'm close, you're doing so good Coryo."
You reach a hand up to tangle in his hair, tugging on the locks as he groans, his own hips pushing harder against your backside. He curls his fingers one more time before you're coming undone on them. Coryo lets you relax against him as you come down from the orgasm, his cock throbbing as he replays the whole thing in his head.
Sejanus looks proud and pats Coryo on the back. "We're gonna teach you so much."
let's chat about coryo, sejanus, or both, here :)
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izvmimi · 4 months
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cw: this is so goofy. selfship-coded. izuku has a subtle breeding kink (i wrote this what's new). pregnancy mention. condom use. suggestive, minors dni.
you sit warily on the toilet seat, your fiancé right outside the door, and your foot tap tap taps as you wait for the little piece of plastic in your hand to decide your future.
ironically, you don't have the energy for trepidation anymore because you feel like by now you're at this literally every couple of days.
but baby it doesn't feel good?
but don't you want me to feel all of me?
i promise i'll pull out better this time.
just the tip is fine, right?
izuku's outside the bathroom door, giving you privacy as though he wasn't nose deep between your legs just last night, slobbering all over you like a starving puppy presented with a wet meal. for a moment it occurs to you that if you really are pregnant, even if you can clearly handle it financially and emotionally, you'll shove that stick so far up his ass that-
your timer goes off and it's negative.
you sigh.
izuku bursts in at the sound of your voice, immediately uttering a supportive "is everything okay baby?" the shine to his emerald eyes makes you wonder if he actually, deep down, does want you pregnant.
"perfect. no baby."
he grins and kisses your forehead as you adjust your panties up and stand to wash your hands. squishing your cheeks as he has trouble getting his hands off of you, he promises that he'll actually invest in some condoms.
you don't believe him, but you consider making that appointment to your ob-gyn to get an intrauterine device you've been thinking about sooner rather than later.
---
another night comes and he's looked at you like that and he continues to be built like that and you have no choice but to let him do whatever he wants with you, even if it is to drag you not really kicking and not really screaming from your work, going from holding you around your midsection to lifting you up effortlessly so that your crotch is pressed against his face. he sniffs you like an entire dog and you're both terribly embarrassed and terribly aroused by his sheer want for you. izuku is already pressing kisses to your mound through your yoga pants as he carries you to the bed.
"izuku, i still have shit to do!" you argue, but you're holding on tight to his head to keep your balance, as if he would ever let you fall.
"you've worked hard enough," he says, muffled by your legs around his face. "i'm asking politely. may i please have some pussy?"
the fact that he's asking this, just as you land on the bed with a practical bounce is almost offensive. you sit up.
"are you even asking?"
he leans in, grinning as he gets on all fours to descend upon you.
"i mean yeah, of course," he replies, knowing full well that you won't say no as he pulls off his shirt. you shake your head, but your shirt goes over your head as well. he catches your lips in a kiss first, and you sink into the bed under his weight as he practically smothers you in kisses. wet, sloppy, silly, you laugh against each other, groping each other with your hands, and then it occurs to you both at the same time.
condoms.
you pull away, his teeth still grazing at your lower lip.
"izuku, do you have any?"
he blinks for a moment, sitting back on his heels. then his eyes widen.
"yes!"
izuku sounds a little too excited just for condoms, and your eyes narrow, but he practically leaps off the bed and is burrowing through his workbag for something, and you squint, expecting a box.
what he comes up with dries you up so fast you'll need iv fluids.
his grin is wide as he presents to you, proudly, a string of pristine looking condoms, all printed with all might's million watt smile right on the packaging.
"see, i didn't forget!"
a moment of silence passes as you beg the heavens above that your adonis of a partner is not fucking serious about fucking you sideways with his mentor's brand of contraceptive rubbers.
"izuku."
"what?"
"..."
you walk out of the room, immediately, so irate you can't speak.
"WHAT?!" he asks, following you out immediately. "come on!"
there's no way you are coming or cumming anywhere in the next hour. not like this.
you find your seat back at your desk and crack open your hardback textbook as hard as you can, doing your best to ignore the whine his voice has taken. he can actually die of blue balls for all you care.
"come on, it's not that bad!"
you snap your head at him and give him a look, and he immediately recants.
"okay, i'll go out right now and get normal condoms, i promise."
you lick the tip of your index finger and turn the page of your book.
"please, my dick is literally so hard right now, don't you care if i die?"
"perish. let me see," you reply, without turning your head.
"wow!" you can't' help but stifle a laugh at his disbelief. you hear him shift upwards and turn, not even realizing he had been kneeling.
as he stands, you do get a look at his... impressive member. maybe he could die like this, the way that thing is rock hard and waiting desperately for you.
you blink, look at your book, then look back at him. he's looking at you with the puppy dog eyes, and he still looks the way he does and he's still built the way he is, and...
...
moments later, you're folded into a jackknife because your pro hero fiancé somehow always gets his way, but at least, mercifully, his mentor's condom isn't wrapped all over what's pumping in and out of you.
right before your eyes roll back in your head, you can still see all might's smile, and maybe you should have just stuck with the damn pregnancy tests after all.
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spdrvyn · 11 months
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dating headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA
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( i am unfortunately unable to see atsv until sunday because my parents are busy tonight so ... i'm coping with miguel hcs. enjoy! )
× miguel is touch-starved down to the bone. your hand brushing against his, small grazes of your fingertips on his arm, he'll eat it all up. he's not the type for PDA (aside from very subtle yet romantic gestures) but once the doors are closed, his hands are everywhere on you.
× he's also very intense with his displays of affection, does he bite? he 100% does. he's more than willing to pull you into bruising kisses, more than willing to leave hickies and bite marks along your neck to shoulders to thighs, more than willing to mark you up because it's just a recurring reminder of his undying love for you.
× miguel is also very needy. even if he's moving from building to building, patrolling the streets of nueva york. even if he's carrying an entire spider society on his back, burdened with the fate of the multiverse. even if he's having a liesurely and normal day, you occupy a great amount of space in his mind.
× the moment he comes home to you, all he wants is to hold you in his arms and listen to the angelic sound of your voice. he appreciates your company over anything else, even if both of you are sitting in silence, he'll be gazing into your eyes. ever so grateful that he gets to bask in your comfort, that he's found heaven and it was you.
× let it be said that he's also jealous, denying it would be a wasted effort. he was fine with you meeting new people, it was one of the qualities that you had that he found so admirable. the ability to connect with someone, something he had lacked for the longest time. although, there was a clear line to him and his limits only continue to get pushed if he sees anyone even come just a little close to that line.
× he's shot daggers through people's souls from a distance with his eyes as soon as they got a little too touchy or too flirtatious. you were well aware of his jealousy, not entirely though. at times, he would give the occasional perv a threat that you would disapprove of, a beating or two... hence he keeps that bit hidden from you, for your sake. if death glares weren't enough to keep the average creep away, he'd proudly wrap an arm around your waist and drag you closer to him. it would send them running.
× his flirting isn't top tier, however he praises you to no end. telling you how beautiful you are, how he's so grateful to have you, that you were an angel sent from god, and he loves you more than anything. he definitely uses pet names while doing so as well. mi vida, mi muñeca, mi amor... whatever he can think of. all while he's showering you with kisses.
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missmeinyourbones · 5 months
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LET ME LOVE YOU ANYWAY
a/n: mentions of alcohol and drunk reader, reader called sweet girl once, reader wears makeup and heels, satoru doing boyfriend duties
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Satoru has been watching you fiddle with the strap of your heels for two and a half minutes now.
He'll give you some credit, as the heels are a bit clunky and the buckles a tad finicky. And yes, you are still drunk from your girl's night out. But two and a half minutes of watching you struggle can only be so entertaining.
He's itching at the seams for you to let him help you. On the opposite end of the couch and leaning on the armrest, you can barely sit up straight. He doesn't know how you even have the strength to fight him on this, but he shouldn't be surprised; your stubbornness tends to have a never-ending amount of stamina.
He tries again, softly motioning you to join him on his side of the couch, "C'mere."
He's met with the expected pushback when you whine, "Nooooo, I can do it."
"You can't, baby," he softly reminds you with a sigh.
You gesture to where your ankle rests on your opposite thigh. As if you're clearly proving him wrong, you exaggerate your movements, "I'm doing it right now."
He watches you get nowhere with the tiny buckles on the straps and allows himself to tiredly laugh.
"You're not."
Deciding enough is enough, he moves a cushion closer to you.
"Come here," he doesn't let you scurry away when he brings your foot to rest on his lap, carefully loosening the strap and unwrapping the silly shoe from your ankle.
Through the silence of the house and the drunken mumbling from your lips, he admires your heavy eyelids, how they flutter beneath their own weight like butterflies gliding in the spring.
His lips gently kiss your other ankle after finally freeing you from the contrasts of your heels. "You're allowed to let me help, y'know?" he whispers sweetly.
"I don't need help," you nearly hiss, removing your ankle from his grip and planting your feet on the floor again. "I'm plenty capable of taking my shoes off," you drunkenly lie.
And Satoru smiles at you, proud and bright when he nods.
"I know, but I like to do it, too."
He thanks his speed for your lack of pushback when he's able to scoop you from the couch and carry you to the bathroom. Plopping your deadweight on the sink and keeping a steady hand on your waist, he lets you get comfortable on the counter.
Your swollen feet sway as they dangle from the sink, and Satoru bites his tongue from any comment about you looking cute.
He holds up a bottle of what he knows to be your makeup remover, still going out of his way to ask, "It's this one, right?"
"No," you weakly lie.
Satoru sees right through you. "Yes, it is," he gently scolds. "Stop it."
You watch as he soaks a cotton round with the remover, something he's seen you expertly do about a million times before he brings it to your face and raises his eyebrows.
Your whining continues to commence when you dodge his gentle hands, "I don't need help, Satoru."
"I'll be gentle," he breathes.
"I'll kick your teeth in."
"What a sweet girl I have."
This continues for a minute or so before you get tired and malleable enough to just let him do as he pleases. With a final grumble from you, Satoru begins the gentle process of rubbing your skin.
He's cautious, meticulous around the more sensitive areas as he mimics your usual circular movements. He's extra careful when it's time to remove your eye makeup, watching you look up at him for him to gently tap your lids and whisper a soft, "Close 'em."
Remover turns to face wash which turns to rinsing and toner. And throughout the entire process, Satoru has a soft smile on his face, humming to himself as he admires both his work and your face.
"Such nice skin," he presses two fingers into your forehead. "What's your secret? Getting drunk and letting your boyfriend wash your makeup off?"
"No," you sleepily murmur, eyes closed at the relaxing touch, "he always forgets my moisturizer."
"No, he doesn't," Satoru chuckles. "He just likes to make you a little mad."
After eventually completing your full routine, something he will most definitely be expecting praise for in the morning, he softly rubs the remainder of moisturizer on your cheeks and gently smushes them together for good measure.
He uses the opportunity to plant a tender kiss on your lips, and he's thrilled when you only whine and don't push him away.
He smiles halfway through the kiss, pulling away to press a kiss to your cheek and tease, "Mmmm, tequila."
"Want me to brush?" you can barely open your eyes.
"Nah," Satoru shrugs, grabbing you beneath the thighs and scooping you off of the sink, "let's just go to bed already."
In bed, with your cold feet pressed against his calves and his warm hand resting comfortably against your abdomen, he feels you press a tiny kiss to his exposed bicep.
"Thank you for takin' care of me," you whisper, almost as if you're a bit embarrassed to be admitting it.
Tomorrow, you'll blame it on the cocktails consumed the night before, but Satoru knows you. Knows how hard it can be for you to let someone in, let someone help. And every single time, he's willing to fight for it. Willing to coo and purr at your hissed and fanged attempts to scare him off.
Satoru merely hums into your hair, letting himself close his own eyes and sink into the mattress.
"Thanks for lettin' me."
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lxvvie · 6 months
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Heyyyy, I'd just had this cool idea, where reader pranks the COD members by getting all glam and dressed up and ask them if they forgot date night and reader pretends to upset with them for forgetting.
*clears throat dramatically.*
Capt. John Price - Clears his throat and talks you down as only Price can and promises he'll make it up to you. Meanwhile, he's trying to figure out the last time y'all even made plans for a date night.
Gaz - Pretends not to know what you're talking about; may or may not be shitting bricks internally. Hits you with the "Er... sorry?"
Alex Keller - Is actually shitting bricks internally. Transforms into Smooth Operator Keller™ to mitigate the damage. "Lookin' good, boss."
Soap - Panics in Golden Retriever. Promises to make it up to you. Is also turned on because you look fuckin' amazing. Wanna have make-up sex or something?
Ghost - Calls your bluff; oh, the bastard would've remembered an upcoming date night. He thinks. You look amazing, though. Real amazing from the way he's eyeing you up and down. Yeah, like hell he's gonna let someone else lay eyes on you. You're all fuckin' his.
Alejandro - The one who reminds you that date night is actually tomorrow night.
Rudy - Jokes on you because tonight was actually supposed to be date night and it seems like you both forgot. Whoops.
König - König.exe short circuits and he. is. DEVASTATED. You're actually the one who has to reassure him that it was only a prank. Oh. Good. He actually does take you out afterward, though.
Horangi - An awkward silence persists before he tells you to sit on his face lmao.
Graves - Is nonplussed by your being upset but not by your obvious good looks. "Wanna go out then, darlin'? Show 'em what they're missing when they see you all dolled up for me?"
Valeria - Calls your bluff and then calls YOU out for missing date nights as well. Oh, shit—
Roach - Wait, what date night?
Keegan - Uh... makes up some bullshit excuse to make himself scarce until you calm down.
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waldau · 1 month
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giving them the silent treatment when they forget something — seventeen | 2,661 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
first work in this format! comments would be really appreciated :D
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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seungcheol
cannot stand your silence. he'd rather you scold him, or say anything to him, but he absolutely hates the silence that fills your house when he stops talking. he's thankful you're sitting across him while he's having dinner, but keeps interrupting his eating by asking for your forgiveness over and over. how could he forget your date night tonight? knows you need your personal space and makes you sit at the table while he does the dishes, but he gives in at the end of the day because what's the point of sleeping in the same bed if he can't wrap his arms around you? keeps whispering apologies into your hair and promises not to be this forgetful again. literally lights up when you turn around with a grumble and slot yourself into his arms. is okay with you being upset with him as long as you let him hold you.
jeonghan
thinks it's payback for the time he hid the last of your snacks a week ago. is fine with you rolling your eyes at him when he calls you by your nickname. realizes it's serious when you share your dessert with him, because you never do it without a little playful fight. realizes he's messed up big time when you don't retort back to his teasing about how your hair looks right now, after you've spent some time rolling around in bed. the final straw is when you wish him goodnight without even calling him any form of endearment. suddenly understands why you're being like this — it's because he left for practice without waking you up this morning, even though you asked him to. peppers you with kisses and it's only a matter of time before you stop resisting. tries explaining that your health and your sleep are more important to him than his own, but he's thankful you wake up with him the next morning and prepare breakfast for him while he gets ready.
joshua
is a gentleman. 99.99% of the time. but the 0.01% he's not is today, when he forgot to buy a bouquet of flowers you wanted to take while visiting your mother. he'd assured you he'd do the task because the flower shop lay right in the path he took while jogging, and now you've returned home with no smile on your face. there's a thousand apologies at the tip of his tongue, but none of them are going to be enough. you wish him a good night, but he knows he's messed up pretty bad. hates it when you don't even say anything about it, because he knows it's affected you more than you're letting it show. gets a call from you the next afternoon asking him why there's a bouquet of flowers on your desk and why your mother also had one delivered to her doorstep. picks you up from work and surprises you with a single rose that he tucks behind your ear, brushing away your concerns about it looking silly. loves you, and he'll get you flowers every day if it makes you smile the way you're doing right now.
junhui
is not used to one word answers from you. he watches you a bit closely as you take off your shoes, wash your hands, get a glass from the cupboard and pour yourself some water. feels like you're giving the glass more attention than him. starts feeling nervous. around you. hates it more than anything. but he doesn't know what's wrong, so he ends up doing something that flusters you both — he cages you in his arms, because he'd much rather you tell him off than push him away silently. you try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he pulls out his c-drama moves of seduction and slams his hand against the wall behind your head. you just stare at him before you shake your head and tell him he didn't kiss you goodbye this morning. he feels absolutely shocked. he did! or at least he thought he did. you're always on his mind, regardless of the time of the day. kisses you five times to make up for the one he didn't give you. sticks close to you for the rest of the night, as it's his rightful place.
soonyoung
is oblivious at first. he's the more talkative one between you both, so he doesn't find anything wrong when you come back home, or don't give him the usual kiss you do when you come back home — you're probably just too tired! guides you to the dining table and makes sure you're eating well. talks about practice, talks about this photoshoot that's coming up, talks about this interview he'd given earlier in the day, around afternoon, which made him super hungry because— well, shit. he was supposed to bring your lunch to work because you'd forgotten to take it yourself, and you'd even texted him about it. he promised he would, and now he's left wondering what you had to get for yourself because of his forgetfulness. throws himself to his knees in front of you and grabs your thighs, shaking you like it's going to transfer the sorrow he's feeling into you so that you can forgive him. loves that you crack a smile before you hide it and continue having dinner. promises to wake up early next morning so he can be the one to make you lunch and pack it. loves the sight of the empty box he sees when he calls you during your break.
wonwoo
feels like absolute crap when you get home and all he has to show you for his time spent is the game he's finished and a regrettable lack of food on the table. he'd promised to cook for you, this recipe he'd taken from mingyu just so he could try it himself. he'd even laughed at your surprised face in the morning, but now he thinks you were right to have doubted him. it's not even time for your usual grocery run yet; you're pretty much out of groceries because his friends had come home a couple days back and you'd spent time making a lot of dishes. sits you down and makes you eat a banana as a peace offering, all the while ordering takeout from the closest eatery to your house. sits with you and feeds you bites of your meal, not touching his own till you're done. still feels terrible when he sees you putting away the leftovers, because you're not supposed to be doing that in the first place. comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring apologies in your ear and asking if you want him to get you anything else. wakes you up to breakfast in bed the next morning. you laugh and tell him you're not willing to have breakfast without brushing your teeth, so he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. he thinks he should make time on his days off for breakfast in bed if it means you'll cling to him the way you're doing now, adoration in your eyes.
jihoon
is just in his chill™ mode half the time he's home. when he's not working, he's either listening to music or watching your favourite shows together to maximize the time he has with you. for jihoon, and you, actions are more prevalent than words. so it's with a sudden drop of his stomach that he realizes he was supposed to wait for you, till you came back home, to start watching this new anime you'd been keen on seeing. he can't exactly undo the past three episodes from his memory, so he's also silent like you are when you get back home and see what he's been up to. dinner is had in an awkward silence till you push your chair back and take the plate to the sink, letting jihoon know you're turning in for an early night. he knows he's fucked up. he's glad you're not kicking him out on the couch to sleep, and he apologizes by softly humming a song he's been working on for you, in the silence of your bedroom. it's like he's wearing his heart on his sleeve, too easy for anyone to see, but it's worth it when you sigh and pull him down for a kiss, telling him it sounds wonderful and that you can't wait to hear the full thing.
minghao
is disappointed with himself already, and you being disappointed makes it worse. he could blame jet lag for being the reason why he forgot to show up at the cafe to meet your friend you've been him to get to know for a while, but he knows it's a flimsy excuse. you cover up for him with the excuse of a fever, even though he's far from feeling down. doesn't know what he can say to make it better, so he peels an orange for you. only to have his heart hurt when you say you're not hungry. but you end up taking a few slices anyway, because you don't want it to go to waste. tries to pull you into himself but hates it when you don't reciprocate. he knows this friend is important to you, but are they so important that you have to ignore him for the rest of the night? offers to sleep on the couch, and is surprised to find that's what breaks your silence and makes you glare at him. promises to fly you out soon to meet your friend where they live as an apology. wakes up to you combing your fingers through his hair.
mingyu
puppy #1. knows he's done something wrong the moment you step inside the hallway of your house, even if you've said nothing — mainly because you're not rushing to him the way you always do, and you're not excited to see him, the way he is to see you. takes all the stuff from your hands and makes you sit on the couch and offers you a massage and pouts when you decline him gently. tries making conversation with you during dinner, but gets discouraged when you reply in short sentences. you're not...angry, but you're upset, and it's bugging him terribly. offers to help you with your nighttime routine, sitting on the counter and watching you go about it, until you sigh and tell him exactly what he forgot about. your plants in the balcony that he promised to water this morning and forgot about because he had to rush for an early practice. he throws himself to the floor on his knees, hands clasped, and promises never to forget it again. feels relieved when you laugh through a mouth full of toothpaste, pulling him to his feet and ruffling his hair. his alarm now has a label that reads: "plants :)"
seokmin
puppy #2. can feel his smile drop the second you walk through the door of your shared house drenched in water like you fell into a puddle and climbed out. and the worst part is you're not even asking him to help you dry up. he tries to offer you towels and fusses about your hair and you catching a cold but ends up sitting against the door of your shared bedroom when you gently push him out of your way and opt for a nice, warm shower. he's glad he ordered takeout so that you wouldn't have to cook, but he's not happy with the way you're ignoring him. no, you're not ignoring him. you're...disappointed, almost. somehow it's worse than having you be angry with him, because he knows fights can be resolved sooner or later. but you being disappointed in him? makes him feel like the worst person in the world. heats up your blanket in the dryer and gives you his hoodie to sleep in. he's never going to take your umbrella to practice again. drags you out to shop for two distinct umbrellas so he never forgets to send you off with one again.
seungkwan
he's busy. it's not an excuse; it's just how his daily schedule is. yet it sounds like nothing but a pathetic excuse when you get back home, avoiding even looking at him. you look amazing, and he wasted his entire afternoon wondering when you were going to call him, when you were out watching a movie he'd suggested the two of you watch together. hates it when you tell him you've had enough popcorn to make you skip dinner. hates it when you don't even hug him, much less kiss him. hates it when you have a polite conversation with him about the movie, as if you were just his friend telling him you liked his recommendation. you sit with him and watch a volleyball match he'd pre-recorded, but his mind is not interested in the commentary at all. pouts. straight up asks you how long you're going to ignore him. you say you're not, that you just need some time now to get over it. he nods like he understands but wraps himself around you barely twenty minutes later when you're getting ready for bed. will not sleep without coming to any kind of resolution. asks you to spoil the movie for him as a punishment and gets a pinch to his cheek in return. promises never to forget a date again.
hansol
is also oblivious. takes your silence as a sign that you're just tired, so he makes sure you freshen up and don't do any work for a while and have some water or light snacks instead. it's only when he puts on a movie you've both watched many times he realizes you're not talking to him, because you don't lean into him the way you usually do. he takes the initiative this time and tries pulling you on his lap, but you resist. he feels uncomfortable, and it's new. he tries focusing on the movie but his mind is on you, and it's only because of the sheer number of times he's seen the movie that he can remember the dialogues without paying attention. it's only when the main characters get into a car and start driving that he realizes he'd promised to pick you up from your friend's party. immediately switches off the movie because he knows you're not paying attention either, and kneels in front of you and looks into your eyes till you blush and look away. brings your head back in place with his fingers on your chin and asks you to remind him when he forgets so that he doesn't have a chance to let you down again. holds your hand through the night when you sleep. clings to you a bit more whenever you're home.
chan
devastated. at himself, at you for not reminding him that he'd forgotten to pick up your outfit from the dry cleaner's last night, at the fact that you're not even scolding him. hates that you won't even look at him except to give him some space to move around in the kitchen. having twelve older brothers, he's used to being kept in shape by them and remembering a lot of things about all of them, so why couldn't he remember this small thing you'd asked him to do? compliments you on how good you look, and is physically hurt when you just nod at him with a small thanks. asks if there's anything he can help you with. hates that you shake your head and say you're just going to read a book. tries making you laugh but ends up embarrassing himself when he trips on the bathroom mat and ends up diving into the bathroom face first. it's not funny, but it gets a smile out of you, and he thinks he's on the path to getting your forgiveness. won't go to sleep till you run your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.
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