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sunboki · 4 months

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⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

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strawberrysnoopy · 3 months

Text

ACT ONE: The Photo Shoot, part one

prologue

summary of the series: for months, leon has been writhing in his bed dreaming of his friend's wife (you). he's been fighting the desperation for months until that one night you bring up a lingerie shoot you've done for a prestigious brand.

summary of this part: recalling the first time you and leon met, you've realized you've been poorly treated by your husband. leon is no different, in a toxic relationship with his wife, ada wong. as the seeds of resentment have begun to germinate, the desire for you grows like a brush fire nearby.

warnings: MENTIONS OF PUKE, BUT NOT ACTUAL PUKING, leon teaches you how to smoke (i don't wanna see no dumb stupid comments about "oh but leon hates smoking", well leon isn't disloyal but here we are), brief use of (adjective) girl (atta girl, good girl, silly girl), praise, mentions of misogyny (not from Leon ofc), awkward, tense ass convos, a fuckton of desc. and a little description, no sex (yet ;) ), cussing, descriptions of fucking, descriptions of masturbation, semi-public masturbation, almost caught masturbating, slight corruption kink (? if you squint), alcohol consumption, use of tobacco, smoking, implied sexual references, etc.

also a/n, writing this as of feb. 2nd, 2024: 60 notes?!!!!! i was writing this for my own personal pleasure but like...??!?! i got reblogged so many times?! im gagged, tysm you guys!!! making a playlist rn, so excited to release the soundtrack. if you see little random edits, i'm probably obsessing over the fic and trying to make it perfect lol/anticipate changes. i would also like to write I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING! always communicate with your partner, discuss issues, etc. this fic is just a lil’ taboo type of fantasy, do NOT cheat on your partners.

The first time you met Leon was at a grocery store: two weeks before your husband would have any idea of his existence and one week before he had invited Leon and his wife, Ada, over for dinner. You were picking up a bottle of red wine for you and your husband under the guise of wanting something nice for date night. The reality would actually be you were buying it for yourself after your husband decides you're not worth his affections anymore, lazily mosey on over to the spare room, and pull out his phone to text other women. The wine would be something to drink to inebriate you while you watched a shitty re-run of a sitcom from the 90s. Maybe if you got lucky, Golden Girls was on.

He was only browsing, stumbling upon the liquor section and staying to look if there would be anything worthwhile. And there was. It was you. He knew he had to think of something witty, something cool people say, before you left and thought he was some creep staring at you because he saw a smidgen of your breasts in a magazine. "You're a famous model, right?" He asked. Oh, how stupid he felt. He was a chronic overthinker: thinking of every last terrible scenario, a trait he picked up after becoming an agent. This had certainly felt like one of the worst options he picked, especially with how you would-- You interrupted him. "Yeah, that's me." The subtle sweetness, the slight rasp in your voice was better than anything any street drug could offer with the amount of dopamine flooding into his brain: overloading every neuron, synapse, dendrite, and cell membrane in his body.

But for whatever reason, he stretched his hand outwards and lazily grinned towards you. "I'm Leon." "Nice to meet you. Well, I'd say my name but y'know..." He nodded in an awkward agreement before you could even finish your sentence, but not daring to go as far to interrupt you. He felt as if he already started off the conversation with a cumbersome beginning. "Right, right. So, that's your real name? I see a lot of models use stage names n' stuff like that." He adjusts his weight from one foot to the other, switching the hand holding his grocery basket from his right to his left. He felt so...awkward around you. Maybe it was the fact you were a famous model, or maybe it was the fact you were just so calm. The joke causes a soft chuckle to leave your lips and the mere look of a fleeting moment of bliss to cross over your features makes his knees turn into gelatin. Those nerves solidify into stone when the overwhelming sense of guilt hits him like a tidal wave but allows it to wash over him for the sake of continuing the conversation.

"Yeah, just my regular name. I'm not that creative outside of modeling. Usually the photographers do the thinking and the creative processes for me." He chuckled, shaking his head and barely moving himself a little closer. Leon wanted to sink in that gentle, warm, and soft presence you carried around with you. Your aura felt comforting: like a hug after a tough day: it had felt so much more different than his wife. True, Ada could be affectionate but that's usually only after something good has happened to her or Leon was her last resort of attention. He really hated how much he would act like an obedient dog, awaiting her arrival home, coming back to her after she's treated him like dirt. You? You felt so goddamn altruistic and considerate. And he's only known you for three minutes.

You notice he's gone silent and you're silently hoping he thought you were cool. Cool. Like a teenager trying to fit in. You silently cringe at yourself until he smiles at you, almost like he's signaling you to continue the conversation. You can't think of any conversation starters. And you're a model for gods sake. You're usually so outgoing and social with other people but now it's like a cat came by and stole your voice box. Thankfully, he takes over that portion for you. "Buying wine?" He knew it was dry as all hell but he wanted to steer the conversation away from him being a fan of your modeling gigs. No, he just wanted to talk to you and discover what you were like behind the camera. (Okay, and maybe he wanted to see if you'd flirt with him.) "Yup. But I'm just buying wine for..." You paused, about to say 'for me and my husband' but your throat becomes dry whenever you feel like you're about to announce it to him. "...Myself."

He smiles. He likes that you're awkward in real life. The fact made you feel more real, like you weren't just some sexy model with expensive tastes and a bratty attitude. You were a person like anyone else.

"Right. Me too, just uh...just browsing." You nod, fidgeting anxiously with the sleeves of the coat you decided to toss on last minute before leaving the house.

The conversation went on to end when you eventually realized you would be home late. Although you thought that worrying your husband a little would be the thing that reignited the spark in your marriage, you knew that punctuality was a habit you'd like to upkeep. That, and you also knew if you talked to this handsome stranger for longer, you'd cheat on your husband. That night, Leon had fallen asleep to the thought of you for the first time. Soft little visions of pressing his lips against yours, caressing your cheek softly and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, etc, etc, cheesy lovey dovey bullshit. So much more different than the truly filthy thoughts he had about you nowadays. You're torn from your conversation with your friends when you make eye contact with him. You can practically feel his eyes travel from the hair at the highest point on your head to the very last bit of your black, leathery heels with perfect pretty pearls embellished on the pump. For a moment, you feel like you're trapped in some type of horny labyrinth while you stare longingly at him.

He's ripped out of his own longing by the feeling of your husband's hand slapping his back. Ada sat beside Leon with her arm protectively wrapped around his bicep. You felt as if the gesture were a signal to everyone at the party that Leon belonged to her. He was under her control, nobody else's. Or maybe the protective message was for her husband, as if he was an unruly friend to her husband. And you could agree with that. You fell in love with your husband because he was wild and care-free but after the diamond ring was slipped onto your ring finger, you realized he was also carefree in the sense that hurt you: talking to other women behind your back, and leaving for days at a time only to come back inebriated. But you stood by his side, no matter what. You hated how you felt like a doormat but you didn't know what else to do besides stay married and play the role of an oblivious wife while your husband fucks other women in various positions. In a way, you and Leon sat in the same loveless boat. Who knew when that same boat would be shaking from the violence of the both of you fucking, clothing pulled out and to the side instead of being fully taken off. Your thoughts become interrupted by an unmistakably handsome voice.

"Hey."

You feel a hand being placed upon your lower back except it's so much more different than your husband's. The palms were rough, callouses inside the nooks and crannies, and pulsing veins make you all dizzy if you thought about it for too long. His voice was dampened with some undertone of lust, his fingers prodding into the skin of your sides. He's always been a little too handsy for a man that's supposed to happily married. But you always figured touch was how he communicates: touch. But he's never touchy with your husband. Or any of your friends. And he missed you? Sure, your're friends due to the fact your husband was friends with Leon. (Even though you met him first, but I digress.) The simple phrase had your mind reeling, cheeks flushed red due to the hidden intimacy of it all. His wife shoots him a look and his hand immediately retreats back to his side, fighting the urge to palm the engorged erection struggling against the seam of his boxers. "Haven't seen you in so long, hm? Thought you disappeared on me for a minute." He's holding his facade of being totally and irrevocably in love with Ada up and steady. Like he had no feelings for you other than being friends.

"Of course not." You murmur, feeling a hearty chuckle reverberate from his chest. He takes his index finger and his thumb and gently swiping it against your chin.

"Atta girl." And of course, with how hoarse his voice is, your panties are instantly puddled with a thick pool of arousal. You hate his stupid, thick, sexy, and deep voice. You especially hate his voice whenever you imagine him degrading and praising you whenever your husband was away and you just happened to have your hand down your underwear, playing with your clit to ease the throbbing impulses you felt for Leon. He gives your back a single pat before moving back to stand beside his wife. You really hate that you feel jealousy flare like wildfire within you, but you brush it off.

Everyone would eventually be drawn to the several dining tables that were arranged in a group and had golden candlesticks and smooth white tablecloths on top. Once you are seated, you observe that Leon appears to be striving extra hard to guarantee his place beside you. He looks right at you for a brief moment. And only then can you see, just a hint of thirst sprouting in his eyes, before he glances away from you and gives Ada a quick smile while patting her thigh.

It's only a few minutes before Leon decides to break the awkward silence.

"How's that modeling gig going?" You nod, gulping down way too much champagne.

"Good, been going good. Have to admit it gets a little boring posing in front of the camera after a while but can't bite the hand that pays you, right?" You joke, and the table laughs with some sense of jealousy. "Nice to hear. What was your latest shoot?" He asked, leaning forward in a sudden rush of intrigue. Then those words pass your lips. Words he had never anticipated, even in his wildest guess (oddly.)

"A lingerie shoot. For Chanel." The table goes quiet. And everyone, including your dumb-ass husband, look at you. Someone (Ada) clears their throat in the dining room, hinting at you to elaborate and it's almost like you suddenly developed to ability to hear from light years away.

Leon, who had just finally got his goddamn boner under control feels his cock twitch back to life, fully hard instead of a semi this time. And correct him if he's wrong, but he starts to feel pre-cum smearing his dress pants. He's thankful he chose the black slacks instead of his lighter colored ones otherwise this would be downright humiliating.

"Sorry, um...I did an intimates photo-shoot for Chanel a few weeks ago for their new line of clothing." That seems to help lighten the mood a lot more because everyone goes back to their conversation with their respective friends, the embarrassing "confession" from you immediately leaving their minds. "The theme was Overtime. Like, staying later in the office with my shirt unbuttoned and stuff. Nothing that interesting."

The table simultaneously nodded, Leon going as far to excuse himself for a cigarette.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke." Leon scoots out from his seat, heading towards the upstairs balcony to take care of business. Asshole, leaving me with his mean ass wife.

You decide to join him outside.

The air had finally gotten too tense, felt too judgmental for your taste. Scampering outside, you're met with the sight of Leon smoking a cigarette outside. That's odd: you've usually pegged him to be the straight-laced, no-nonsense type of man yet here he was, smoking a cigarette while leaning against the balustrade of their friend's top floor home. At the sound of the balcony door opening, he turns his head to see what you're doing out here. His eyes scan you, almost like he would while he's in combat but it's more or less to get another glimpse of the outfit you were wearing tonight. Okay, and maybe he wanted to commit the sight of you to memory.

"You alright?" He asked, trying his best to look straight forward when you step closer and cross your arms over the balustrade.

"M'fine, just needed a minute of fresh air, I think." When you sit beside Leon, there's a few things you notice. The first was his outfit. A white button-up that usually would be covered by his black suit jacket, though he left it behind on his chair in the dining room. There's also mentioning his blacks slacks, fitting his muscular thighs a bit tight but loose enough so they're comfortable. Then there's the dress shoes, ones he wore at his wedding due to how overly formal they looked. Maybe he wanted to get some more use out of them? Who knows.

"What about you? Why are you out here?" You decided to be the one to take the reigns since the air outside had become incredibly awkward as well. "Same. Thought I'd take a minute of fresh air, you know?" The second thing you notice about Leon is how much he calms you. More importantly, how much you never noticed that you were anxious when you were around others. He had this aura of relaxing or maybe you were just buzzed, who knows that either? Maybe it's the cigarette, speaking of...

"I haven't smoked since college. Cigarettes, I mean. Don't think I even know how to do it anymore." The confession makes his head tilt to the side, now taking more of an interest in the conversation than before. He grinned wolfishly, taking your chin in one of his thick and strong hands and pulling your head forward. For a second, you could almost be dumb enough to think he'd be moving in for a kiss. Of course not. You'd never be that lucky. "Open f'me, sweetheart." And like an obedient puppy, you opened your mouth just enough so your pretty pink-shaded lips could be parted. He placed the cigarette on your lip, the moisture making the filter stay in your mouth alongside his index and middle finger holding it up, thumb brushing your chin. Little hazes of grey smoke dance along your tongue without even taking a sip of the smoke yet, your lips trembling with a lustful agony. "Now close your mouth..." He whispered, his damp and hot and horny breath hitting your ear like an affectionate declaration of love. "And inhale."

You close your lips around the cigarette, faintly tasting the flavor of him where he had sucked on the cigarette. You got notes of citrus, rum or some expensive, top-shelf label of whiskey he used to help quell the pain he experienced on grueling missions, tobacco, and maybe even the slightest hint of his wife's lipstick. Chanel's Rogue Allure, if you had to guess correctly. "...Now hold it..."

You held it. "Silly girl." He whispered, pulling the cigarette away from your lips while you slowly exhaled the rest of the smoke you've been holding in your mouth and then some. You can't tell if it's because of the alcohol, Leon's presence, or your mere anxiety but you begin to feel dizzy. Thankfully Leon seems to swoop in with his questions to keep your head in the game. Bless him.

"Why'd you need a minute, huh?"

For a minute there, you didn't know how to respond. Looking down at the leathery pumps you chose for the evening, you begin to wonder why you even chose them instead of answering his question. But you answered him. Eventually.

"I'm just tired. This whole night just seems a bit…” You gesture to the party in the background. “Fake. I don’t want to be here."

He hummed in agreement, but it felt like more of a signal for you to keep going. "I'm also just terrible at making conversation. Especially when it's awkward and silent."

His eyes flicker down to the pumps he'd already stared at tonight, not finding an interest in them anymore than your own body. He tucked his lip between his teeth, pulling the pink flesh away from his mouth before he spoke up again. "You're not that bad, you know? I think you're pretty good. How about this?" He pauses. Then a beat passes.

"Tell me something true. Tell me something you wouldn't brag to anyone about." He moved his cigarette to rest on the balustrade instead of the space between his fingers. "Something that's yours...and only yours."

You look at Leon with wide eyes, mouth agape as you struggle to answer his question. Your eyes rake down his face from the space between his eyebrows to his parted, pink lips: just a little chapped from the cold chill of the night air. You wanted to kiss him. All of those times you've had him over for dinner, all of those times you've spent with your hand down your panties while your husband was away on "business": dreaming of his best friend, Leon, and god, all of those times you thought about throwing caution to the wind and leaning in to press your lips against his: the sum of all of those moments had you quivering for more.

But you'd never cheat. You have a reputation. You have a husband that gifted you the pretty diamond ring on your finger. But how did it always feel so...impossible? Like you couldn't live another day if you weren't able to fuck Leon like a rabid dog in heat. But he was staring at you, almost as if his eyes were laser beams and searing holes into your skin: you had to answer.

"I don't know what I could tell you that's only mine." You chew on your lip. "Huh. How about..."

How about the fact I wanna kiss you? I wish it was you I was in bed with rather than my stupid, cheating husband? The fact you are so much hotter than him?

"I hate being a trophy." And that brings the biggest grin on Leon's face. A massive shit-eating grin. Leon had gone stir crazy. He wanted to peel your entire being open, see all of the nooks and crannies of your soul and devour it whole. But now wasn't the time to scare you away: even if he wanted to fuck you, you were still a friend to him. So he calmed down. "I can't say that's too surprising. I mean, who would? Being able to be pretty and have money being tossed at you is nice until you want something deeper. Then it seems like one of the only things that are scarce in your life."

You nod, letting out a breath of consolation. "That's exactly how I feel. Like my only purpose is to sit still, look pretty, serve my husband, and be a hole when he needs it."

His eyes become downcast, looking down at the garden on the ground level of the restaurant. "I get what you mean." The moment was interrupted by a waiter peeking out on the two of you: head poked outside of the door that lead to the outside area. He pulls his hand away from your soft skin and back to his side, sighing wistfully that tonight wouldn't be the night he gets to act on his desires for you. Damn it all to hell.

"You should head back. I'll be back, yeah?" You nod and within a few seconds, you've returned to your spot at the dinner table. He sighs, hand slipping down to palm at his erection. Fuck. Can't go back like this.

Just resist. You're just another woman. You have a husband, He thinks to himself, I'm married to a lovely woman. I am a faithful husband. The silent mantra he practices on himself works about as well as a band-aid on a bullet hole. Resist. God, but you looked so pretty tonight. That cute jewelry set you wore with your little black dress? Hot. The smoothness of your skin?

Resist.

But he can't stop picturing you on your knees in front of him, sucking on his cock. The sounds your perfect, wet mouth would make. How he'd ease himself down your throat. How you'd whine.

Resist.

Or how about when he could be fucking his cock into your tight, wet, and warm cunt? The tip of his dick kissing your cervix? Or what about the positions he could force your body into? Like having his arm around your throat, bicep curling into your mouth to muffle your moans from his wife hearing? Or how one of his hands would be gripping your hips while he needily plowed into your pussy, while you begged him to let up. Resist.

Resist.

Fuck it.

In the few moments after he's excused himself from you, he's already rushing to the upstairs bathroom of the restaurant: thanking the holy beings above for making it a single stall bathroom for his jerking pleasure. He hastily unbuckles his belt with one hand, other hand impulsively opening Twitter as a first resort to find some fashion fanatic post about the slutty lingerie photo-shoot you did for Chanel. Alas, you're still a bit of an undiscovered goddess in the modeling industry at the moment: so Google is his next best option. He pulls out his half-hard but hardening cock from his jeans before he can even find your photo-shoot and gives it a quick few pumps to ease the throbbing that's starting to build up in his loins. Eventually, he finds it. Thank fucking god because the creativity for his fantasies are beginning to run quite dry. And instantly he's grunting and groaning while he strokes his cock and scrolls through the multiple scandalous photos the photographers took of you.

"Fuck." He winces in pleasurable agony as he stares at quite possibly his favorite photo of you. The photo was in black and white: theme being "Overtime" like you mentioned. The white button up shirt was undone, revealing you had nothing on underneath, and allowed for the side of your perfect breasts to be revealed. If he squinted just a little harder, he could see your puffy nipples threatening to peek out of the shirt. He tried squinting a little harder to see your nipples a little easier. And oh my god. You have piercings?! He almost shot his entire load on the spot. God, he needed to fuck you. And hard. He groans as he feel himself get closer to orgasm. Closer, and closer, until--

"Leon?"

Fuck. It was you. God, of course you're so goddamn sweet, checking up on him to make sure he's okay. He didn't dare stop stroking himself off, especially not when he's got jerk-worthy material of you almost catching him. That's also not mentioning the soft intonations of your almost innocent voice right there. He's trying not to cum too quick, wanting to savor those images for as long as he could but he also realized his wife might start asking some questions and she wouldn't be on the other side of the door if she came upstairs. "F-fuck, yeah?" He responded after much too long of hearing your sweet voice. "Did you need something?" "Are you okay? I just got worried when you left. You've been gone for like..." You check your wristwatch: a classic and dainty Timex from the 80s with a blank band that wrapped around your wrist snugly.

"Fifteen minutes. Do you need water? Ibuprofen?" He shakes his head as if you could see him while he continues to jerk himself off, hand swirling in a sort of cranking motion as he tries to work his cock to orgasm. But his pre-cum isn't coming out fast enough, not as fast as the pumping motions his hand was doing right now, so he spits in his hand before bringing his palm back down to his cock and lathering his dick in spit. You believe him enough to think he might be getting ready to vomit.

"Nah, jus'...ngh, drank too much, I think." Please keep talking, He selfishly thinks to himself. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need anything, just text me?" He nodded, grunting out a thank you while he continues to dream of ruthlessly fucking you until you're embedded into his mattress. He wants you. He needs you. He feels himself get a little closer until he finally releases into his fist. His hot and sticky cum ran down his palm while the waves of post-orgasmic bliss and post-nut clarity simultaneously moved together as one. For a few minutes, he's panting like a rabid dog in heat until his breath eventually stills and he's able to walk downstairs and look his wife in the face while giving her the impression that he definitely didn't just masturbate to his best friend's wife. When he sits down at the table, the first person he makes eye contact with is you. You smile at him, mouthing a "you okay?" because, of course, you're still worried about him being sick. He nods with a grin peeled onto his face. Because he came to the sound of your voice. And you didn't have a fucking clue.

credits: snoopy divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more heart divider by @saradika-graphics

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sweetheartmotives · 8 months

Text

`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三

Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, kidnapping, crying (from clumsy yan), begging (from clumsy yan), clumsiness/falling, angst. BIG angst!

Let me know if I missed any!

The weather was warm and the time was 2pm. You were out with some friends/family at a pizza shop and a family member/friend decided that you should come! You were on your way back to your and your family/friends' private room, until you saw someone fall, and to make it worse, they had a drink and it spilled everywhere. You decided to help them out! You walked over and he was already scrambling to grab some napkins and clean it up, you came over and helped him. He cried and thanked you. After that day, you earned yourself a stalker.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… you met in a very pathetic way. Soda all over the floor and you both on your hands and knees cleaning it up.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is actually a loser. He doesn't go out unless he's forced to. This was one of his many embarrassing moments. But unlike the others, this one had a good outcome!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… waited for you to leave. It was dark outside, so following you wasn't gonna be hard.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was horribly nervous when he followed you. If you turned around, he'd probably cry!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… follows you home and gets your address. Then he runs away..?

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gets your number, socials, etc. He spends the whole night searching for you on the Internet.

He got ur number thru ur address.. don't ask how

•• Clumsy Yandere who… jerked it to your pics. If you don't have any on social media, he probably took one 78 while stalking you.

Onto the genre stuff! :]

•• Clumsy Yandere who… drools over you. He can't get enough of you, so don't mind the drool dripping down his chin!

Casually drooling over you

•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries when you are loud. When they first took you down to their basement, you cried/yelled. They began to panic and cry.

PLEASE STOP He sobs

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is hopeless. They cry and beg for your forgiveness.. What can you ask? Anything!

M'sorry! I'm so sorry! Please forgive meeeee!! He whined and cried.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… created a playlist for you. They like romantic gestures! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you like. Wanna crochet or play video games? They're down!

Oh? Uh.. yea we can!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… was shy about sex at first.. but then humped your leg and cried about how much they loved you.

Mmm..~ ahhh~ I love you.. love u so much..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… likes to paint! They've painted portraits of you and gifted them to you.

Ah.. my love.. look what I made for you..! He hands a nude painting of you to you.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… does whatever you want. And he doesn't whine or cry! Pretty great, right?? :3

Of course my love..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a crybaby. He's also a really nervous/anxious person!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… has a resting sad face and always looks like he's gonna start crying :(

•• Clumsy Yandere who… owns 3 cats! Tax Fraud, eepy, and coco ♡

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a loser. A very pathetic loser. No further explanation.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… always trips over his own feet. At any time in the day, he trips. Does he cry every time? Nope, but he's always close to tears and he'll be horribly embarrassed.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… gives kisses anytime of the day. Sure he's super shy, but that doesn't stop him from giving kisses! :)

Mwah mwah mwah (〃ω〃)

•• Clumsy Yandere who… lets Stockholm syndrome do its thing. Until then, he'll shower you with praise and love!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… knew it was wrong to kidnap you, but.. is it bad to be a little selfish?..

I'm sorry my love.. I just really wanted to be with you..!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… if you're really suffering while being with him and Stockholm syndrome doesn't work.. he'll let you go. He can't stand seeing you upset.

Goodbye.. my love.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, will always love you, even if you leave him.

My love.. I'll love you no matter what.. even if you hate me. My love will never stop..

This is a bit of a long wait! But I hope you enjoyed it as I enjoyed writing it! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡

#This was long awaited! i hope you all enjoyed <3 #clumsy yandere #yandere #yandere oc #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #gn reader #x gn y/n #x reader #male yandere #:3

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sxcret-garden · 9 months

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ღ Ateez Masterlist ღ

main masterlist personal faves in bold

ღ Hongjoong ღ

Full fics:

ღ Ruin Me | smut, dom!Hongjoong - 1k Desc.: You have never had sex with anyone except your boyfriend Hongjoong, who just can’t resist teasing your innocent self.

Other:

ღ Intimate and loving sex with Hongjoong

ღ Seonghwa ღ

Full fics:

ღ 6:14pm | smut, dom!Seonghwa - 0.8k Desc.: in which your boyfriend Seonghwa overstimulates you as he can’t stop eating you out

Other:

ღ The "not wearing underwear under a skirt/dress" trope but on sub!Seonghwa ღ Thoughts on sub!Seonghwa

ღ Yunho ღ

Full fics:

ღ 8:05pm | smut, dom!Yunho - 1.8k Desc.: After being horny for your boyfriend Yunho all day, he finally arrives home and you don’t make a secret out of how much you craved having him with you.

ღ 8:57pm | smut, sub!Yunho - 0.7k Desc.: Lately you come home stressed everyday, and when your boyfriend offers to let you use him in order to destress, there’s no way you could say no to that.

ღ Tight | smut, soft dom!Yunho - 0.7k Desc.: You just really want to be full of your boyfriend’s pretty fingers…

Other:

ღ Bondage with dom!Yunho ღ Drunk sex with Yunho ღ Dry humping with Yunho ღ Stress fucking with Yunho ღ Thoughts about Yunho and his big hands ღ Yunho with a bratty s/o

ღ Yeosang ღ

Full fics:

ღ Longing | soft smut, friends to lovers, mutual pining - 2.8k Desc.: You and your friend Yeosang have been secretly in love with each other for months, and somehow you never found a chance to talk about it. Eventually he came to the conclusion that you must be in love with another one of your friends, and so the jealousy threatens to consume him every time you’re together.

Other:

ღ Mirror sex with Yeosang

ღ San ღ

Full fics:

ღ Drowsy | soft smut, switch!San - 2.5k Desc.: Your boyfriend San is about to doze off next to you late at night, when you try to wake him up and gradually your sleepy cuddle session turns into something more than just that.

ღ sextape, breeding | smut - 0.6k (req)

ღ “Which do you prefer, fingers or mouth?” | smut, sub!San - 2.1k (req)

Other:

ღ Bondage with San ღ Inexperienced San eating you out and getting pussy drunk ღ You edging San

ღ Mingi ღ

Other:

ღ Drunk sex with Mingi ღ Mingi with a size kink

ღ Wooyoung ღ

Full fics:

ღ Drive you crazy | smut, sub!Wooyoung - 1.6k

ღ praise, morning sex | soft smut - 0.6k (req)

ღ “Shh. there’s people in the other room.” + “We have to make this quick.” | smut, dom!Wooyoung - 1.1k (req)

Other:

ღ Wooyoung with a breeding kink

ღ Jongho ღ

Series:

ღ Aspects of Desire | established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut, dom!Jongho - 28k, ongoing Desc.: When one day you reveal something to your boyfriend that you’ve been hiding, but unable to stop thinking about, the two of you decide to take your relationship - and especially your sex life - into a new direction. You begin to establish a dynamic that you both soon want to explore more of, diving into the depths of both your own and your partner’s unknown desires.

Full fics:

ღ Feverish | smut, soft dom!Jongho - 1.9k Desc.: You’ve been sick for days and also horny, and even though you know just as well as your boyfriend does that it’d be better to rest and to keep any indecent activities for when you’re feeling better, you also both know how hard it is for him to say no to a request from you.

ღ Patience | smut, hard dom!Jongho - 1.3k

Other:

ღ Jongho brat taming you

ღ Group ღ

Asking them to teach you how to fuck | smut, reaction

Making out with Ateez | fluff, very suggestive

Morning Sex with Ateez | soft smut

MTL to be into choking (giving & receiving) | smut

MTL to have an s/o who's quiet in bed | smut

MTL to have a sex playlist to fuck you to | smut

MTL to like exchanging videos of you/him getting off | smut

MTL to prefer giving or receiving head | smut

MTL to prefer having a virgin s/o vs an experienced s/o | smut

When they're jealous | smut

When you get tired during sex | smut, some fluff, reaction

When you tell them you're horny in public | smut, reaction

ღ More stuff ღ

NSFW Alphabets | smut, one part for each member

ღ all hard hours ღ all MTL's ღ

#ateez smut #kpop smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #smut #masterlist

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bbkissme99 · 6 months

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JJK recs nsfw just filth

૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა ₊˚✧JUJUTSU KAISEN LINKS !! twitter links | jjk

𝗗 𝗜 𝗟 𝗙 𝗧 𝗢 𝗕 𝗘 𝗥 [m.list] +18MDNI Masterlist multiple

NSFW is italicized, dark content is purple

Poly

Masterlist: Poly +Threesomes

BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARE

✨ the valentines playlist✨

pinnedpairing: nanami x f!reader x mei mei

Kento Nanami x f!Reader x Satoru Gojo

Professor!Nanami Kento x Boyfriend!Satoru Gojo x AFAB!Reader

Getou Suguru/Mei Mei;

Suguru Getou x f!Reader x Shoko Ieiri

Gojo x reader x shoko

Girls' Girl (Maki x Reader x Yuta x Toge)

dom reader x dom maki x sub yuuta

okkotsu yuuta x reader

Nobara Kugisaki w/ Yuji + Megumi mention

Itadori Yuji x Kugisaki Nobara x Fushiguro

Kinktober Day 7: Group Sex with Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, and Megumi Fushiguro

megumi cucking yuji

how gojo would fuck you with both of the fushiguro’s?

Itafushi

Megumi x Yuuji

versatile!itafushi nsft headcanon

Itafushi

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷 (𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

singer!itadori bass player! fushiguro

connect

Megumi x Reader (little bit of Yuji)

puppy yuuji trying to get megumi to join them in bed

ItaSuku

fushiguro toji x f!reader x fushiguro megumi; satoru gojō x f!reader x fushiguro megumi.

Mamaguro x F!Reader x Toji Fushiguro

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮/ 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮/ 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫 & 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮/ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞-𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ft. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 ✘ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐱

nanami kento x fem!reader x itadori yūji; satoru gojō x fem!reader x okkotsu yūta.

Itadori Yuji+Ryomen Sukuna x fem!Reader

You stay at Yuji’s dorm for the night, but Sukuna decides to play with you before Yuji gained control of his body again.

Just daydreaming about when I’ll finally be able to lose my virginity to a girl…

money where your mouth is. pairing inumaki + maki + okkotsu x gn reader

inumaki + maki + okkotsu x gn reader

maki zenin x reader x megumi fushiguro

[Fushiguro Megumi + Maki Zenin]

Toji teach maki how to fuck you right

► 𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍- Sukuna x fem!reader x Megumi

“Watch and Learn, Brat!” High school Yuuji x F. High School Reader x Sukuna NSFW‼️

✤ rougher please [yuuji + reader + sukuna] ✤

Yuuji x Reader (female), Sukuna x Reader Sukuna's handmouth

megumi fushiguro x f!reader x yuji itadori

Desc: you, gojo and yuuta have some fun in the water.

Kenjaku

Examination (Kenjaku x Reader)

Too Much (Kenjaku x Reader x Mahito)

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nayaaatv · 2 years

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vernon bf headcanons ‹𝟹

# : pure fluff, gn! reader ♡

warnings ! : none(?)

wc ! : 0.5k ←

a/n : made this at like 3 am

would LOVE LOVE LOVE back hugs. ESPECIALLY FROM U OMG. when hes hugging u he feels at ease when ur hugging him hes melting. literally a must everytime u two are together. like ur almost hugging 24/7 like its not even funny. LIKE YK THE WAY SEUNGKWAN HUGS HIM?? ya he's so so so in love when u do that to him. he's always clinging onto u like a sloth its so cute.

down for anything u ask for tbh. ice cream? hell yeah, starbucks? yep, stay home? definitely yes. literally would do anything u say i swear. lets u pick the movie everytime ur having a movie night and enjoys the movie THOROUGHLY. this man loves u so much and would do anything for u lit-rally anything.

remembers everything u tell him/mention. like he would remember the girl that u used to hate FROM 3 YEARS AGO. would also know ur fav everything, ur fav food, ur fav color, ur fav SONG OMG. like this man has a little list on his notes app and it looks like a cute grocery list.

adores you when ur doing ur thing. like if ur cooking he's gonna like seriously watch u the whole time, like hes either beside u or just with u in general. LIKE if ur painting, singing, anything u like doing... hes SO IN LOVE. he loves how ur so passionate about ur hobbies he claims that its calming, and it is.

LOVES taking photos of u. like hes so chill about it too. like everytime ur going out somewhere hes always gonna ask like "babe babe babe smile". hes so cute hes gonna have like the widest smile after taking the photo and adding it to his photo album of u. i can GUARANTEE you that u are that mans wallpaper and lockscreen. literally has a polaroid photo of u and him. every photo this man has of u is literally something you'd find on pinterest they end up AMAZING istg.

in love with late night walks with u. like ur just listening to music together while holding hands and walking around the city. talkative or not, its so calming for him. he loves it when u kiss his cheek from time to time. he feels so intimate during those walks he's loves them sm :((

letting u wear his clothes. this may be a cliché one but he thinks u look cool in his clothes. like sometimes he acts like a stylist.. he's gonna be like "you should wear this it'll look SO GOOD on you i promise you" and he's so fr. and u do look good fr OMG. he loves it when u wash his clothes cuz now they smell like u for some reason.

again another cliché one but playlists. those collaborative spotify playlists those things u have like a 17 hour long playlist with him and its an absolute bop. the name would be something random like "bonk !" or something but the desc would be like "by hansol and ynnie ^^" literally listens to it everytime he can. absolutely ADORES ur music taste, also loves it when he sees u listening to one of his fav songs he's like smiling and doesn't even notice.

taglist × : @guavagyu [open!]

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt reactions #svt headcanons #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #vernon scenarios #hansol fluff #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #slay vernon slay

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yootaesowlwrites · 1 month

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A Million Freckles - Hwang Hyunjin

W/C: 1.1K

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

Prompts: “Did you know that you have a million freckles on your shoulders?”

Warnings: Hint of angst, fluff. nudism, Hyunjin tending to you after a bad day.

Age Warning: No age warning applies to this.

You step into the house and close the door behind you, it had felt like a day that would never end, but it finally did, and you were now looking forward to a warm shower to wash away all the stress from the day, you take off your shoes before removing your jacket and hang it near the door, you step further into the house and make your way towards the bedroom, you pause at the door as you found Hyunjin laying on the bed with his phone in his hand, his legs crossed, and his back propped against the pillows and headboard.

“Hyun…” You sigh and feel a smile tugging on your lips. “You’re home,” He puts his phone down on the bed and looks at you, a smile spread across his face as he looks at you. “Just what I was hoping for,” The smile vanishes from his lips, and he sits upright with concern in his eyes, his brows furrowed as he looks at you.

“Long day?” He asks. You nod your head and step further into the bedroom, he instantly stands from the bed and makes his way to you. “What happened, what’s wrong, what did they do to my baby?” His arms reach for you before pulling you tightly against him. “I’ll make them pay for whatever it was,” You couldn’t help but tiredly laugh at his attempt to threaten them, it was so cute yet funny at the same time.

“I just want to take a shower right now, wash it all off me…” You say against his chest. “But they made me run around so much and then my boss blamed me for something he said he would do and take care of…” You feel him hug you a little tighter, and his hand rubs in a circle at the top of your back.

“That… thing,” He says, not even wanting to name your boss’s name. “Come, let’s go,” He releases you from the hug and guides you past him and towards the bathroom. “We’re taking a shower immediately,” He pauses near the bathroom door and picks up one of your candles you left on the drawer before guiding you further into the bathroom. “Let me just adjust the mood, okay, sit here,” He guides you towards the toilet. “Just a few minutes,” He places the candle on top of the cabinet in the bathroom before exiting the bathroom again, he was fuming on the inside knowing that your boss had upset you, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it, but just perhaps he could ask your friend to do something. “I saved the playlist you like on my phone, in case,” He says as he re-enters the bathroom with his phone in hand.

You could feel your heart swell with love, you didn’t think he would have saved one of your playlists, but here he was, surprising you again, he placed the phone near the candle and seconds later gentle piano music started playing, he picked up the lighter that conveniently laid on the cabinet and lights the candle.

“All right…” He says and puts the lighter down before turning to you. “I can’t dim the lights, that’s the only thing I can’t do,” He makes his way back to you and holds his hand out for you, you place your hand in his and stand from the toilet. “Let me help you get undressed,” He releases your hand and reaches for the bottom at the top of your shirt. “Just let me take care of you tonight…” He slowly unbuttons the shirt before carefully sliding the sleeves down your shoulders, there was so much intimacy with this act, so much care behind everything he was doing.

He tosses the shirt towards the laundry basket before reaching behind you and unclasping your bra, his hands move to the top of your shoulders and carefully slide the straps down your arms, slowly baring you in front of him, not just body, but body and soul. He folds your bra before placing it on top of the folded towels before moving his hands down to the button of your jeans, his head drops as he looks down while you continue to look at him, love constantly growing inside you, your love for the man in front of you, you had no words to properly explain how much you loved and adored him. He pushes your jeans down your legs along with your panties and bends down.

“Hold onto me,” He says. You place your hands on his shoulders and lift one leg, letting him remove your pants and panties before switching to the other leg, you keep your hands on his shoulders as he stands upright to toss the clothing pieces into the laundry basket, he reaches for the claw clip on the cabinet and moves behind you, his fingers gently comb through your hair before you feel him clip your hair together at the top of your head, you turn around and watch as he reaches for his own shirt, but you quickly grab onto his hands, stopping him.

“Let me…” You say. He nods his head, and you release his hands before moving them to the hem of his shirt, he lifts his arms as you begin pulling the shirt upwards, your knuckles brushing along his skin as you do, you pull his shirt over his head and toss it towards the laundry basket before you move your hands to his jeans, this time he watches you with adoration in eyes. You undo his jeans and push them down along with his underwear, you bend down as he steps out from them after they pooled around his feet and pick them up. “Now we’re both ready to shower,” He nods his head as you toss the clothing items into the laundry basket. He takes your hand and leads you into the shower, closing the glass door behind him once you are both inside.

“Stay close to me,” He says. You press your back against his front as he reaches for the tap and opens it, a gush of wind fills the cubicle as water rushes from the shower head, goosebumps form on your skin before the water heats up, and the glass begins to fog slightly. “Okay, it’s safe,” You could feel a smile tugging on your lips before you moved forward, the water touched your skin, and you instantly felt your muscles relaxing, you let you a sigh of contention and closed your eyes, his hands move to your shoulders and slowly slide down your arms. “Let me wash you…” His chin rests on your shoulder as he reaches for the bottle of soap.

You watch as he opens the bottle and squeezes a dollop of soap onto the palm of his hand before closing the bottle and putting it back, his arms are still wrapped around you as he begins lathering the soap in his hands. He presses his hands against the front of your shoulders and moves his head away from your shoulder before slowly washing over your shoulders and down your arms.

“I’m not too rough, right?” He softly asks, his hand reaches your hands, and you feel him carefully washing between your fingers, interlacing them for a moment before his hands slide up your arms before his hands move over your chest.

“Hmm, you’re gentle, so gentle,” You softly say. He softly hums before washing over your stomach, his hands move over your sides before briefly leaving your skin and moving to your back, and his eyes move over your back quickly, finding the scattered moles decorating your shoulders and back. “It feels so nice,” He bends down, carefully washing over your butt before moving his hands down your legs, carefully washing your inner thighs and between your legs before moving down your legs. He stands upright and begins rinsing the soap from your body, using his hands to help.

“Did you know that you have a million freckles on your shoulders?” He suddenly asks, he places his hands on top of your shoulders and slowly traces along the moles, connecting them. “It’s like the night sky,” You turn around to face him, making sure not to fully step underneath the water. “It’s beautiful.”

“Hyun…” You say and place your hands on top of his shoulders. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” You could feel tears filling your eyes, you weren’t sure if it was because he was tending to you like this after you had a rough day or if it was the result of an emotionally and mentally draining day. “Thank you for taking care of me…” He pulls you against him, his hand instantly moving to rub circles on your back.

“Of course I will,” He says. “Come, we’re done showering, let’s get out of here,” He shuts the water before breaking the embrace and opening the shower door, a cold rush of wind blows against you both, but he quickly grabs the towel and wraps it around you. “We’re dedicating this night to only comfort and cuddles,” He wraps a towel around his waist before helping you dry off, the gentle piano music continuing to play in the background, once he was sure you were dry he removes the claw clip from your hair and places it back on the cabinet before blowing out the candle and guides you out of the bathroom.

“Can we open the window a little bit?” You ask. He nods his head as he guides you towards the bed and has you sit down on the edge of it right in front of the window.

“Of course, we can,” He says as he turns to the window and opens it, the wind rushes in and blows against your skin. “Lay down, I’ll lay down right with you,” You nod your head, already feeling much better than you did when you reached home. You lay down, moving to make space for him in front of you, he walks away from the bed and moments later the lights are turned off before you hear him walking back to the bed. “We can sleep just like this…” He lays down in front of you, facing the window, and you immediately wrap your arm around him and place your leg over his leg, the silence of the night begins settling in with a few cars being heard in the distance. “I know you love me, and I love you too, so, so much.”

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archivxx · 1 year

Text

ʚ♡ɞ

Lovers Rock. {masterlist}

⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯

--Kyle Broflovski x Reader - SMAU masterlist and Prev || Next buttons no longer work.

Desc.| You'd known Kyle and his group(or as you'd call it, posse) from being young, however, you always despised their boisterous behaviour. They always left you feeling venomous. However the feeling is mutual between you and Kyle. You always thought he was standoffish and snobby anyway.

||"Team Craig"|| Twitter || Instagram ||

||"Team Stan"|| Twitter || Instagram ||

||“Team extra”|| Twitter ||

⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯

Parts.|{0.01}{0.02}{0.03}{0.04}{0.05}{0.06}{0.07}{0.08}{0.09}{0.10}{0.11}{0.12}{0.13}{0.14}{0.15}{0.16}{0.17}{0.18}{0.19}{0.20}||

⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯

||Playlist.| Spotify||apple||

[I’m an Apple Music gal…]

Extra Tweets: 🌠🌌

||Holiday Specials: loading…||

Hint.| look up characters status to know what the characters are up to!

{Apps used for SMAU: MeMi Message, TwiNote, and PhotoNote}

{inspo creds: @777bambi}

ʚ♡ɞ

#south park #lovers rock SMAU #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle brovlofski #reader insert #bebe stevens #butters leopold stotch #clyde donovan #craig tucker #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #Nicole Daniels #tolkien black

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ykiwrite · 1 year

Text

like heaven

desc: prom and jenna

"A moment you will never forget" were the words describing the upcoming prom night. At least, in your mothers words.

To you, on the other hand, it was quite stressful. Decisions, dresses, suits, friends wanting your opinion on their own looks. It can be a lot but hopefully worth it to finish the year.

"I don't know. What about this one?" marked the 100th time you asked Jenna the exact same question today.

Spending the evening in a café both of you marked as yours, where she can escape hectic actors life. Jenna was way too occupied making you yet another Spotify playlist with her notorious headphones on. Even so, she looked up from her phone to see what was already expected.

Another potential candidate to represent a dress of yours but not the last. "Hmmm, model looks nice but not the color though."

Letting out an exhausted sigh as your head fell on the table. "I'll go with the one we liked in the beginning. I don't care anymore, there's too much of them."

"I told you, the first one was the winner but you didn't listen" she commented adding a song of your liking that will fit perfectly on the list.

"Besides," switching from sprawling on the bench to looking straight at you, "who are you dancing with?"

"I have no idea. Probably some guy since it's a must sadly" trying to get everything out of your coffee that's surviving on last breaths.

"Mhm, we all know who's the first in line," stated coldly like it was matter of a fact. Not sure yourself, you wondered "We do? Who is it then?"

Blessing you with a disapproving look, "It's obviously that guy who you turned down four times but nothing will stop him from fifth." Now remembering all of his attempts had you saying confidently, "Ohhh, him? Yeah, he is a possible suspect but i'll tell him no as usual."

Not satisfied with the answer, Jenna's smile that was on display the entire time due to being too proud of her playlist making skills was no more.

Dropping the phone on the table, taking off headphones, she leaned her figure over the table leaving no distance between each other faces.

With a click of her tongue she whispered, "I guess i'll just have to show up and sort it out myself then." Eyes darting up and down your face making it quite difficult to form a normal sentence.

Picking up on it, she continued "Does prom accept outsiders?"

"Yeah, i guess. I mean, it does." Almost fully closing the left distance you pulled away from her with a raised brow. "Jenna, what are you on about?"

Copying your movements and backing off but not before sending you a smile that holds no good intentions, "I say let me be your dance for the night."

"I don't know why i let you with me" you let your regret be known glancing at every face that surrounded your table. Most didn't even fit, having to bring extra chairs making the atmosphere cramped.

Jenna turned to you with full attention like she heard the most worthy thing this whole night unlike your friends interviewing her for the past hour.

"No you don't, you love it."

"No one expected me to have an actor of a girlfriend, you know? You can see it's a shocker, the table is full" gesturing around with your hand.

"Yeah." she trailed off for a moment watching the dancefloor getting busier. Seeing the second person coming up to the two of you, asking her to dance was predictable enough considering just her.

"No, sorry, i have someone to dance with." Grabbing your free hand that made you follow her wherever she's heading to as you usually do. Pulling you closer, shoulder to shoulder, she let you know "I'm getting bored plus i promised you this, right?"

To say you wandered off in a crowd that had all eyes on you would be an understatement. Both of you got lost but in the best way possible. Not an expert yourself with shallow talent, Jenna guided you like she always does. Steps, posture, rhythm, with patience.

Your head lowered and hands rested on her shoulders carefully making sure you are doing the right thing.

"You know i don't care about anyone else," not too confident in raising your own head, still acting out your focus below.

"What do you mean?"

Your actions slowed, trying to come up with an excuse if it wasn't for Jenna interrupting jarred train of thoughts, burning stare that you almost won against until you felt her raising your chin softly.

"It's just you that i want in this entire room of people."

Jenna almost lost it all but not accepting defeat, at least not in front of a crowded room. Breathless without realizing it, hoping her suggestion works.

"Let's go home."

notes: idk what is this but its inspired by true story btw, jenna was on my prom night so this is just recreation of events (source: trust me)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine

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norimiya · 11 months

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⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ STAR-CROSSED ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

PAIRING : ̗̀➛ reki kyan x gn!reader

DESC : ̗̀➛ when the new school year starts, reki meets his seatmate for the remainder of the year, you. then with a school project on both of your hands, and spending almost every minute together, the fondness you share for each other begins to change to something different.

TAGS : ̗̀➛ high school!au, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, minimal angst, fluff, swearing, not following sk8 canon timeline, no langa (sorry)

START : ̗̀➛ 06.02.23 END : ̗̀➛ 09.24.23

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST : ̗̀➛ STAR-X

☆ ch.1 first meeting

☆ ch.2 short-lived conversations (literally)

☆ ch.3 project proposals

☆ ch.4 ideas

☆ ch.5 backpack

☆ ch.6 grassy suburbs?

☆ ch.7 focus

☆ ch.8 just friends

☆ ch.9 high school hierarchy

☆ ch. 10 peanut butter or caramel / like or love

☆ bonus ch.1 the project presentation: aliens!

#sk8 the infinity imagines #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x reader #reki kyan x reader #reki kyan x y/n #reki imagines #reki kyan x you #reki kyan x gender neutral reader #sk8 the infinity x gn reader #series: star x

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sunboki · 5 months

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⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES(TEASER) a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 7k

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. really looking forward to this one, hope you guys are just as excited as i am!!! happy december 🤍

PLAYLIST.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

And so, you replaced it.

Until you met Seungmin.

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conarcoin · 8 months

Text

i went looking for a song cscoop used in one of his videos without a mention in the desc and ended up on his soundcloud. i didnt find the song but i did find that one of his playlists contains mos thoser, a hardstyle remix of all the things she said, and a nightcore version of a dubstep song with a low quality anime girl as the cover and i'm kind of obsessed

#i cant even bully him because it looks identical to half of the playlists ive made on spotify help

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sweetheartmotives · 8 months

Note

Hihi! How’s it going?

Can we get another part of clumsy yan? Maybe some smut too but it’s up to you!

Thanks, have a nice day! :D

`; 三 Clumsy Yandere;`三

Desc and possible Tw: Yandere themes, sexual themes, stalking, clumsy being a whiny bitch of a creep, pictures taken without consent, crying, being tied up, mentions degrading, falling bc its Clumsy yan, and minor injury (from falling)!

Let me know if I missed any!

•• Clumsy Yandere who… as I said, Stalks you. He stalks you all day, every day! Since he doesn't go outside much and only goes out when you do, he has a lot of free time.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… bought a camera just to take pictures of you. When he does his daily 8 hours of Stalking, he prints the pictures and puts them in a scrapbook.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… when he takes naughty pictures of you, He has a folder he hides in his 'special' drawer. He jerks it to the pics of you :3

Casually jerking it to a photo of you

•• Clumsy Yandere who… fantasizes abt you. He daydreams and dreams about you, wet dreams, marriage dreams, etc. He imagines everything the two of you could do together!

One day.. my love. One day it'll all come true..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… secretly loves it when you degrade him. Sure he also loves praise with his entire being, but being degraded.. really gets him going~

•• Clumsy Yandere who… Absolutely loves bondage. Please tie him up! He'll be a good boy, he promises he won't hump your leg again!

M'sorry! I p-promise to be a good boy! He's drooling and crying

•• Clumsy Yandere who… cries during sex. He'll hump and rub himself against your leg while sobbing praises and how much he loves you. This loser gets overwhelmed and he's hella sensitive.

Cant.. keep going.. no.. more! As he still humps YOUR leg willingly

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is a big worshiper, he loves you so much!

He lays in ur arms and whispers countless words of worship and praise

Onto more.. sfw things! :)

•• Clumsy Yandere who… falls all the time. He always has scratches or bruises from falling!

Please kiss it better..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is very indecisive. One minute, he wants to cuddle in silence and be held by you, next minute, he wants to cuddle with his cats instead!

Can we cuddle? (2 minutes later) I wanna paint..

•• Clumsy Yandere who… would pass out during a horror movie. He cannot watch horror movies without crying and screaming hysterically! Little bitch

Hysterical sobbing and screaming TURN IT OFFFFFF

•• Clumsy Yandere who… is truly pathetic. Not even pathetic, fucking hopeless. After the first time you guys fought, he cried and tried to cuddle up to you, begging for forgiveness.

I'M SO SORRY! IM SORRY IM SORRY He cries

•• Clumsy Yandere who… would make a hundred playlists dedicated to you. His Spotify isn't even his anymore, it's yours 💀

•• Clumsy Yandere who… decorates his room in things you own or like. He's def stolen items from your room and hung/placed them around his room.

•• Clumsy Yandere who… has painted 1000 paintings of you. Nothing else. Just you.

He has paintings of you hung up all around his painting room

•• Clumsy Yandere who… when everytime he falls in public, will drag you home and then cry into your arms.

I..I'M SO EMBARRASSED! THAT WAS HORRIBLE I'M NEVER GOING OUTSIDE AGAIN He whines and cries in ur arms

•• Clumsy Yandere who… in the end, is still pathetic as fuck. But will always do what you ask and love you until death!

My love.. I love you so so much. Let's stay together forever, okay?

I hope you all enjoyed reading as I enjoyed writing! Also 🍯 anon, sorry it's a bit late! My brain was all over the place and I didn't know where to start! (´･ω･)

#Clumsy yandere #clumsy yan #Clumsy yandere x gn reader #clumsy yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #gn reader #x gn y/n #gn yandere #x reader #I hate him so much ♡

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jiunngs · 1 year

Text

FLASHBACK ✶ YOON KEEHO

ft. gn!reader x yoon keeho. warnings: drinking, a couple mentions of throwing up. wc 1.7k

desc ★ caught up in a quiet moment, keeho thinks back to how you two met.

all was peaceful inside the small apartment, the only sounds coming from the songs on the music channel turned down low and the occasional screech from a car outside.

the two of you were sprawled out on the sofa, your head resting on keeho's chest while your legs tangled with one another's; one of his hands idly playing with your hair and the other dangling off of the edge. you were happily sleeping, only ever stirring to shift slightly in your place or pipe up with the odd contented noise in your slumber.

his attention drifted between half-interest in the music videos he recognised on the television and gazing down fondly at you, smile unable to stop itself from stretching across his lips every time he stole a glance.

he was perfectly at ease with the positions you were in, and would've been happy staying there for as long as time allowed — perhaps he'd even join you in your napping — until a familiar tune caught his ears, and he moved his eyes to the mv currently playing.

it was a song keeho knew, like the back of his hand. why wouldn't he remember the very lyrics that had played the first time you two had met, after all? call him sappy, but he'd added it to his playlist the second he could find the time to, wanting to return to that instance even if only for as long as the melody played.

relaxing back into the cushions, he allowed himself to reminisce in the quiet. with the tune still ringing in his ears, he closed his eyes and thought back to— what was it, almost three years ago now?

he was at a party thrown by someone he knew from somewhere, somehow. a friend of a friend of a friend, or something along those lines. with a singular glass of something that looked deceptively fruity nearly full sat in front of him, and no one else near him to attempt to make conversation with at the lonely minibar, he wasn't exactly having heaps of fun at that very moment. it was a little out of character for him to be alone in a corner at an event where he would've usually gone out of his way to meet new people and enjoy himself, but for some reason he didn't feel that up to dragging himself to his feet and mingling with the crowd. it was much easier to stay seated and by himself, with no one else to force himself to try and talk to.

yet lo and behold, the universe seemed to ignore his wishes completely and his waning attention span was snapped by a frantic tapping on his shoulder. keeho had turned and came to face to face with a worried-looking blonde, who had a very wasted friend mumbling things unintelligible to both leaning on his shoulder.

"hey, um, can i ask you a favour, really quick?"

he was wary, but nodded anyway. at least looking after a drunken stranger would give him something to do other than stare at the wall.

"would you mind just- keeping them company for a sec? another one of my friends just threw up all over the host's bathroom. it's really bad, i've gotta help clean it up before they find out."

partly out of curiosity of what he would get out of entertaining the (h/c) still talking to themselves and breaking out into the occasional hysterical giggle, and partly out of sympathy for the blonde about to spend the rest of his night cleaning up someone else's vomit, keeho agreed and gestured to the empty space beside him.

a flurry of things in amongst the rush of 'thank you so much!!' and 'i really, really owe you for this' were thrown at him full speed, and in a blur of dyed platinum blonde and the purple of the jacket he was wearing, the unnamed boy was gone as quickly as he'd arrived, and keeho turned his gaze to the intoxicated state of the person now sitting slumped over the bar next to him.

all was silent for a minute between them, the only noise being the buzz of the people everywhere else and a song he was sure he'd heard once or twice before playing over the top. then, the (h/c) launched into a full-blown rant out of nowhere, eyes wide and expression looking almost offended as they lurched towards the dark-haired man still staring at them.

"and appar'ntly- apparently he's married!? like, wh't the fuck? that's- that's just fucking crazy, man. he's so.. strange! anything but marriage material, 'f you ask me. who'd look at an english professor and think 'thats th'guy i wanna marry,' you know? weird as shit.."

they trailed off when they looked up into keeho's eyes properly, squinting and then, after coming to the realisation that this probably wasn't the person intended to hear their story, recoiling backwards so fast they nearly toppled over, prompting keeho to panic and grab onto them, pull them back upright, and hope it all ended without any broken arms.

as it turned out, it ended with a head of tousled (h/c) locks buried into his chest whilst he held them to him in an attempt to stop them from falling, and he froze completely when wide (e/c) irises stared straight into his, air suddenly hard to find. his heartbeat sounded a lot louder than the chorus of the vaguely familiar song in that moment, which made no sense because the speakers it was blasting out of were practically right up against his side.

the person he still didn't know the name of cleared their throat and slowly righted themselves, seeming more sober than previously after their close encounter.

"..you're not jiung."

he shook his head once, flicking his eyes to the glass he'd since completely forgotten about and wondering if it was the wrong time to down it all in one go. "uh, no. i'm not. i'm keeho."

then came the bordering-on-awkward silence once again, until the (h/c) offered up their own name in return.

"keeho. i'm (y/n). wh're did jiung go? sorry, i didn't mean t'start rambling on at you."

keeho rushed to reassure the stranger (who now had been named, at least) that they had no need to apologise, and also fill them in on the whereabouts of their friend. they made a face when they heard the news, snickering to themselves as they made a comment about how they didn't envy him in that regard.

it was then they set their sights on his drink.

"so.. keeho.. d'you want that, or are you jus' gonna stare at it? if not.."

although it most likely wasn't the best idea, he only sighed and slid it over, watching as (y/n) cheered and took a long sip, virtually melting into their chair afterwards.

things seemed to flow a little easier following their introductions, the pair making conversation about anything they could think of and finding they had more in common than expected, smiles and laughs traded comfortably between them.

belatedly keeho realised he was having more fun that he'd first thought he would, and let himself relax a little more. getting acquainted with (y/n) was never on the list of things he'd envisioned himself doing that night — partly because he'd never heard of them before the moment he was being saddled with them and left to fend for himself — but he was glad that he did.

he was less glad that jiung decided to made his reappearance right when they were just getting friendly, although hid it underneath a smile and a teasing question of whether he had managed to get the evidence of his friend emptying the contents of his stomach all over a bathroom that wasn't his; to which the dyed blonde simply grimaced and said the worst of it had been dealt with.

seeing as the (h/c) was beginning to slip back into what looked more like the barely-conscious state they had been left with keeho in (probably due to them draining his glass completely, fruit wedges and ice cubes included), when jiung thanked him for the second time and offered up his number in case he ever wanted to ask the blonde for a favour of his own, he decided to cash it in on the spot.

"do you think i could have (y/n)'s number?"

although initially unsure, he eventually agreed once keeho had sworn he had no ill intentions toward the (h/c), and once both were put into his phone the pair went on their way, leaving only keeho's empty glass behind as evidence they had ever been there at all.

he'd stared at the digits under '(y/n)' for what felt like hours when he'd finally gotten home, before trying to convince himself to snap out of it and leave it until the next morning.

and yet his impatience got the better of him, so he shot you a text asking if you wanted to meet up the next day if the hangover wasn't too awful, and then passed out fully clothed after praying everything would work out from there.

but in the end you had lasted for coming up on three years now, so he supposed he'd done something right along the way.

"-eeho. babe! are you awake?"

the voice tore him right out of his daydream, and he opened his eyes again to see you sitting up on his lap, hair mussed up and sticking up in places and the heel of your hand coming up to rub at your bleary eyes. it brought a smile to his face, and he tugged you closer to him and started to lightly comb through your hair.

"what were you thinking about? you were miles away."

he hummed, smoothing down (h/c) strands to press a kiss to the top of your head and then moving to lie back down, pulling you with him. you were both fully entangled this time, a mess of limbs on the sofa that made it hard to tell where one ended and the other began. the way he liked best.

"ah, nothing much. just about how loud you snore."

your noise of indignation made him snort, and soon you were both playfighting and laughing until you collapsed again, exhausted from the mini impromptu wrestling match, but happy.

the day he met you might've been fun, but keeho found the days you spent together now were something he enjoyed tenfold.

✿ ahh hi??? i wanted to try and write for kpop too (and write again in general because it's definitely been a while LOL) so like. i hope this wasn't crazy awful and u weren't clawing at the walls collapsing throwing up etc.. lmk though!! im gonna pass out now but i'll double check 4 any mistakes later ^_^ gnn

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