skz and their kinks
-> pairing : skz x fem!reader
-> words count : 5.8k
-> genre : pure smut, what kinks i think the skz members have
-> warnings : dirty talk, swearing, use of 'slut', 'whore', 'doll', 'babygirl', 'kitten', 'princess', 'angel', 'good boy' and 'fucktoy', rough sex, spanking, impact play, dacraphylia, degradation kink, marking, biting, oral (m. and f. receiving), teasing, overstimulation, edging, thigh riding, lingerie, praise kink, size kink, public/semi-public sex, bondage, shibari, voice kink, fingering, dry humping, breeding kink, creampie, choking (giving and receiving), sex toys, hair pulling, begging, pain kink.
+ the way i'm depicting skz members does not represent them, it's only a work of fiction.
-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist
BANGCHAN
DIRTY TALK
→ look at him flirting and teasing stays all the time, it's obvious he'll like to do the same with you in the bedroom. he loves seeing you squirm and whine because of his words only, enjoying how his voice alone can make you wither and beg. kinda fuel his ego too, how he just needs to tell you you're a whore - his whore - to get you on your knees. he sometimes adds a touch of degradation to the mix, smirking at himself when you clench around him tighter.
"my needy little slut, can't even wait one hour for me to finish my work you have to touch yourself. are you that desperate for my cock doll ?"
→ he also loves to explain all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he wants to have you. and that reduces you to a babbling mess every time, anticipating the pleasure you know you’re going to receive. chan loves to know that he can almost bring you to an orgasm without even touching you and just by reminding you how good he can make you feel.
"and then, i'm going to fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name. got it little whore ?"
SPANKING
→ part of the hard!dom channie agenda and i'm always here for it. like yes, he can be the best service!dom ever, but piss him off a little too much and it's over for you. he'll bend you over the armrest of the couch, flipping up your cute little skirt just to find your panties already soaked in your arousal. i swear he’ll let out the most sinful groans at the view.
"bet you got on my fucking nerves just for me to punish you doll, didn't you ?"
→ he wasn't waiting for an answer, and you figured it out as he landed his hand for the first time on your ass, the sound echoing through the room along with your broken moans. you loved the burn on your cheeks, loved feeling chan's large figure standing behind you like a silent threat. and he loved how your skin was getting more and more sensitive and red as he spanked you a couple more times, reminding you every now and then to follow his orders.
"you're losing count again babygirl. don't forget what I said. ten and I'll let you get my cock, understood ?"
MIRROR SEX
→ chan is a simp for your body. literally praises you every time he gets to admire you. and if you're ever insecure about any parts of you, he'll be there to compliment them specifically and make you feel better about your complex. and one of his favourite way of showing you how much he loves every one of your curves is to fuck you in front of a mirror. repeating over and over how beautiful and perfect you are while he got you moaning his name.
"- look at you baby. I said look at you. that's it babygirl. see, you take me so well. fuck... it's like you were made for me."
→ and all you could do was agreeing with him. he'll force you to repeat his words, or else, he'll stop and leave you crying for his cock until you said what he wanted. he also loves to see your teary eyes through the reflection of the mirror, desperation pouring out of them. loves to make you see how much of an effect you have on him too.
"you're so perfect, you're going to make me cum."
LEE MINHO
DACRAPHYLIA
→ he's very passionate when it comes to sex. and that means he often gets a little rough (not that you're complaining), but he doesn't always realize that it may be too much for you, especially at the start of your relationship. that's how you ended up with tears rolling down your cheeks, with minho between your legs, far too lost in the taste of your sweet cunt to carefully listen to you. only when you sobbed did he notice your watery eyes and ragged breathing. you thought that would deter him, but that's when he clearly discovered a new kink of his.
"is that already too much for you kitten ? can't wait to watch how you'll cry for my cock then."
→ and you see that grin of his ? yeah, that's definitely how he's looking at you everytime you start crying for him. from now on, minho discovered a new goal whenever the two of you fuck : make those tears spill out from your beautiful eyes again and again. hearing your broken sobs makes him groan louder every time, it’s like music. minho would be so cocky about it, cooing at you everytime he sees tears gathering in your eyes.
“are you crying again kitten ? so cute, my little crybaby cannot handle being fucked that good.”
MARKING
→ for me, minho is not jealous that easily, but he is really possessive, only proud to show off that you’re his. always has his hands on you when you’re out with him. so another way of signaling that you’re taken is by littering your whole body with marks. and we all know that he loves teasing, so it’ll be a good way to tease you to slowly suck and kiss every inch of your body. he’ll get you whining before he even reaches your pussy.
“purple really is your color baby, you’re so pretty like this…”
→ also discovered that he kinda loves having your marks on him too. for example, one time you kissed his cheeks before going out with your friends and left a lipstick stain on his skin. minho couldn’t help but smile to himself when he saw that in the mirror. also very cocky about waking up with the imprint of your nails on his back or to hickeys covering his neck, he wouldn’t resist the urge to make snarky remarks (but really, he’s so proud of them, don’t stop doing that).
“i’ll have to mark you again for us to match, what do you think ?"
OVERSTIMULATION
→ goes with dacryphilia because that’s the easiest way to get tears from you, and also just loves to see you fall apart under his touch. minho has pretty hands and he knows how to use them to make you cum at least three times before he even fucks you. and when he finally does put it in, you’re so tight he has to restrain himself from blowing too fast. he also loves how shameless you become after the first two orgasms, moaning out loud and dirty talking.
“you’re so nasty baby, it’s so fucking hot.”
→ minho would love how sensitive you are when he overstimulates you with his tongue,
gripping his hair tightly when it becomes too much. you could feel his smile against your cunt while he got you to your climax again and again, and he would hold your shaking thighs so hard, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of you. would definitely always make you cum for the last time on his cock.
“come on kitten, i know you can give me one more.”
SEO CHANGBIN
THIGH RIDING
→ have you seen this man's thighs ??? of course you’ll want to ride them, it’s like the first thing you’ll fantasize about doing with him. it’ll happen for the first during one of your makeout sessions, you straddling his lap and unconsciously grinding against him, whining into his mouth. since then, he’ll push you down on his thigh all the time, watching you mesmerized as you ride it. he could probably come just from the lustful sight in front of his eyes, gripping your hips but not doing anything to guide you because he’s too lost into his contemplation.
“you’re beautiful baby… shit, how did i get so lucky ?”
→ after a while, he’ll start using that as a punishment : forcing you to ride his thigh until yours gave out, making you cry but not fucking you until you came all over him. i feel like he would love to make you ride his clothed thigh as much as his skin. on the one hand, seeing your arousal soaking his jeans makes him go feral, but on the other hand, the feeling of your wet cunt on his bare skin is so good too. either way, he’s got you trembling on top of him before he gets you shaking underneath him.
“that’s it, make a mess on my thigh… and then i’ll let you make a mess on my cock.”
LINGERIE
→ your body is literally a work of art in his eyes. let me tell you the first time he saw you naked, his jaw hit the floor. and to this day, he’s not immune yet to the effect you have on him. usually, changbin doesn’t really care about what underwear you’re wearing, but that one time you welcomed him from work in that red lingerie set, something inside of him switched. that night, he fucked you on the kitchen counter, in the shower and again in your bedroom. that’s the easiest way to drive changbin insane.
“you’re so fucking sexy, and that’s all for me ?”
→ he particularly loves how the lacy one's compliment perfectly every one of your curves, and how different certain colors makes you look like. he adores when you wear red, black or dark green, and how slutty you seem to be. he’ll happily let you ride him, with his face buried in your breast (he’s a boob guy). but he also has a thing for you wearing white and pastel colors, and how innocent it makes you look. it gives changbin an urge to corrupt you, make you go down on your knees for him and take his cock in your mouth. also, if you ever bring him with you to go buy new lingerie sets, don’t get surprised if you end up being fucked in the dressing room, because this man cannot contain himself when you ask him if this or that looks good on you when you’re simply a goddess to him.
“of course you look good baby, you’re stunning… makes me want to fuck you right now.”
SIZE KINK
→ changbin is buff, that’s a fact (and he’s hot), he knows it and you know it too, and that turns you on a lot. he loves when you throw yourself at him whenever he comes back all sweaty from the gym, unable to resist the urge to touch him when he looks so good. it was your kink at first, but it grew on him after a while. and now he gets a boner everytime he takes you to the gym with him and you lift so light weights compared to him, or when he sees your tiny figure besides his huge one in the mirror. changbin has definitely fucked you more than once in the changing room.
“your little cunt is so tight baby… fuck ! gonna fill you up so good…”
→ another thing that drives him crazy is how small you look underneath him, when he fucks you so roughly he thinks he’ll split you in half. but all you do is ask for more : more of his big cock forming a bulge in your abdomen, more of his big hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re unable to move, more of his big muscles tensing up when he holds you down. and he always gives you all of that without any hesitation because he really just wants to please you. he’ll place his hand on the bulge that formed in your tummy and press down on it, loving how you moan louder every time.
“see how big i am baby ? your pussy so tiny i can feel myself…”
HWANG HYUNJIN
BONDAGE / SHIBARI
→ he would love to tie your hands to the bed, usually with pretty ribbons or ropes with a color that contrasts with your skin tone. don’t mistake him, he loves the way you’re always gripping his hair or clawing your hands at any part of his body you can reach, but to have you unable to move underneath him excites him to no extent. then, hyunjin has all the time in the world to explore your body how he likes it : licking, kissing, touching every part of you until he remembers every one of your features.
“just let me spoil you princess.”
→ and i think he would also love shibari, because of how artistic it looks. hyunjin’s creativity takes a new turn when he learns new ways to tie up your body. being the gentleman he is, he would always make sure that the knots are not too tight. but when he starts fucking you, he’s using the ropes as a leverage, especially if he’s having his way with you from behind. also loves to tug on them as he’s eating you out. and he definitely grins when he sees the red marks it left on your skin.
“so beautiful, all tied up for me like that… you’re going to let me use you how i want now ?”
VOICE KINK
→ he drinks up all the little noises you make when he’s touching you in any way, it’s like music to his ears. at first, you were too shy to let him hear your moans, but after he told you how much he loved them, it became a concert. every sound coming out of your mouth goes directly to his cock, especially when you whine his name and ask him for more. and if you ever start to whisper something in his ear before going down on him, bet that he’s a babbling mess under your hands in the next seconds. if you ever tried to silence your voice, he would immediately restrain you.
“no, no, no, princess ! don’t do that, let me hear you, please ?”
→ hyunjin is also fond of his own voice. but that’s something he’s ashamed of, and would never talk about if you don’t bring it up yourself. it probably started when he realized how he cummed quicker when he let himself be loud. and it goes on from there. he adores to hear your mixed moans and whimpers, ensuring him that you’re both equally desperate for each other. he’s not as slick as he thinks though, because you clearly noticed how he couldn’t stop himself from speeding his thrusts when he made you gag on his fingers to hear just his own noises.
“ah… fuck ! angel, your voice so sexy… i could cum just by listening to you.”
DRY HUMPING
→ i’m a firm believer that hyunjin is one of the most passionate kissers out of all the members. his plump lips are all i need to state that. so don’t be surprised if every one of his kisses almost always ends up in a full makeout session. he doesn’t care if there’s people around you or not : if he wants to kiss you, he will. that being said, he would 100% love to have you straddling his lap while devouring your mouth, the most lovesick eyes diving in yours everytime you pull out to breath. he’s obviously hard the moment his lips touch yours, and he doesn’t stop you when you start grinding on him. it feels so good even with all your clothes still on.
“don’t stop princess, you’re making me feel amazing.”
→ if for some person, it’s simply foreplay, for him, it’s just as good as fucking you. he doesn’t know if it’s the little rush of shame he feels everytime you make him cum in his pants, or how turned on he gets again just from seeing the wet trail you left on his clothes, but he finds himself craving this feeling. with you on top of him, grabbing his hair and kissing his neck, and the possibility for him to grab your ass and listen to your pretty moans of his name, there’s now way he’ll deny you when you start unconsciously grinding down on him. hyunjin also loves how intimate it feels, with your bodies so close, limbs tangled together and whining into each other's mouths.
“god, i can feel how wet you are through my jeans…”
HAN JISUNG
BREEDING KINK
→ definitely the type of guy who needs a minute or two to compose himself everytime he pushes his cock into you or else he’ll blow immediately. so let me tell you that the first time he had fucked you raw, he had not been able to control himself and almost immediately spilled his load into you. when he pulled out and saw his cum leaking out of your sweet cunt, that’s where his breeding kink started. han doesn’t want kids, or at least, not now - and he’s always been very cautious with condoms and your contraception. but after that, all he could think about was filling you up with his seed until you couldn’t take it anymore. the idea of seeing you pregnant doesn’t even seem appealing right now. no. it’s just the thought of his cum inside of you that was driving him crazy.
“ah baby you’re dripping from my cum, so full… does it feel good ?”
→ i’m always here for pussydrunk!jisung so i think he’d kinda love to overstimulate himself after he had already come multiple times, still thrusting inside of you just to see his cum spill outside of your cunt. jisung would also be so vocal and whiny when he’s releasing inside of you - well, he normally is pretty loud, but even more so in this situation. his moans are always overpowering yours and he can’t shut up about how good you’re squeezing him and how bad he wants to paint your walls white.
“fuck… b-baby your pussy s-so good, you feel so good ! please let me cum inside… please…”
PRAISE KINK
→ he needs to know that he’s doing good. well, he can almost always say by how vocal you are that you appreciate his actions. but he wants to hear it, wants to hear you call him a good boy, or tell him that he’s making you feel good. it’s unmistakable as he moans loudly whenever you do it, becoming a babbling mess every time a praise leaves your mouth. han especially loves it if you purposely do it just before he cums : he gets a rush of adrenaline that makes his orgasm ten times better.
“do you like that ? am i making you feel good ? please tell me baby…”
→ this guy is 100% a switch, and when you take control, he’s especially reactive to every praise that leaves your mouth. but he also knows that you’re going to make him work for that. honestly, that’s not even a punishment for him because he could spend hours between your thighs. that’s only after coaxing at least three orgasms out of you that you finally comply to ride him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as soon as you sink down on his cock.
“tell me i’ve been good… ah ! yes ! yes i’m your good boy, only yours !”
CHOKING (RECEIVING)
→ jisung never knew this was one of his kinks before meeting you. well, that’s a bit of lie. he actually discovered it when stumbling on a particular video when watching porn. he tried it, just to test the water, and he was so ashamed of how fast he came with his hand squeezing his throat that he never really authorized himself to do it again. he felt silly, and he didn’t want to scare you off. however, soon into your relationship, you asked him to try something. he was so surprised when your hand settled on his neck he thought he was dreaming, hips jolting upwards in your cunt when you pressed down, restricting his breath. and if you do it while sitting on his face, it really is over for him.
“oh my god… don’t stop please, squeeze harder, ah ! y/n…”
→ even when he’s domming, he just wants your hand around his throat. he’ll fuck you so hard if you do it, pounding into you and gripping you so tightly you find the imprints of his hands on you even three days after. he’s so weak everytime you touch the sensitive skin of his neck, but that also fuels him to ruin you, talking non-stop to let you know how good you’re making him feel, and how much he loves your body. he makes you cum over and over again until you’re both dripping from your arousal.
“look at you y/n, you’re supposed to be the one choking me but you’re literally crying out my name. ironic isn’t it ? shh, don’t say anything, i’ll make sure you only remember my name by the end of the night.”
LEE FELIX
BITING
→ it would start innocently, like felix biting you playfully - just another way to show his affection towards you. and you love it so much, it reminds you how appreciated you are. but one day, you decide to bite him back, and since you were nuzzled against him, you go for his neck, your teeth gently nibbling at the soft skin. you don’t expect him to moan, nor does he. the vivid blush on his cheeks would be so cute when you asked him if he wanted you to do it again. and when he nobbed, he found his body littered in bite marks in no time.
“shit angel ! please don’t stop… i love seeing your marks all over me”
→ felix knows that it’s a little risky, because these bite marks could be seen by anyone if his shirt lifts a little too much, but he’s too thrilled by the idea of retracing the pathway of your mouth on his body in the mirror. though, all the members already saw one or two imprints of your teeth on his skin, laughing and saying you were a vampire. felix would laugh it off, but deep down, he wants you to leave even more of them. it gives him the feeling that he’s completely yours, that he’s at your disposal whenever you need him, but he keeps that to himself for now.
“keep biting me, make me yours angel.”
SEX TOYS
→ he would do anything to please you, like really anything. and he also loves so much to make you fall apart under him, loves to hear you moan freely and see your beautiful glossy eyes. that’s why i think he would introduce you to sex toys. because even if he loves to satisfy you with his fingers and tongue, he wants to show you other forms of bliss. he’ll buy a selection of different types of toys, explain to you how to use the ones you don’t know, and then, describing how he plans on using them on you.
“and when you’ll be wet enough, i’ll make you fuck yourself on that dildo until you cum again.”
→ as much as i see felix as a sub, i can also picture him as a really mean!dom if he’s particularly stressed or worn out. will ask you to stay still while he overstimulates you again and again with all sorts of toys. on other days, he’ll edge you to tears, but that’s really rare. most of the time, he’s really gentle and careful. i think he’d also be really into training you to take bigger dildos everytime, spreading you out enough for him to just slip his cock into you with ease.
“your pussy looks so pretty like that, so full…”
DEGRADATION
→ i’ve already said that but sub!felix lives in my mind rent free everyday. and he would fall in love with you again if you started to degrade him. he loves it when you’re domming him, pushing his head between your thighs and riding his face shamelessly, and telling him how useless he is, how he’s just a fucktoy to you, only here to please you when you need it. also, please ride him while whispering in his ears that you only want him for his cock and he’ll go crazy.
“yes ! i’m just a fucktoy, i’m your fucktoy !”
→ even when he’s on top, fucking into you at a sloppy pace, he’ll love to hear your mean words in between your contained moans. he knows this is only an act, and he loves it, but he’ll need a really good aftercare. felix becomes all clingy (in the best way possible), just wanting to be smothered in kisses and affirmation words of how good he did. he’s also (secretly) a sucker for you murmuring nasty words in his ears while both of you are with other person. expect a very passionate makeout session in his car, because he can’t wait to go home and would love it even more if you called him a slut for it.
“sorry, sorry, but you’re too hot i couldn’t wait…”
KIM SEUNGMIN
CHOKING (GIVING)
→ have you seen his hands ? of course you want them wrapped up around your throat, and that’s not like he doesn’t love it himself. when he’s fucking you in missionary, expect his hand to settle on your neck very quickly, squeezing lightly at first, just to make it a little harder to breathe. and then he would really apply pressure, making you dizzy with the lack of oxygen and teasing you for being a whimpering mess every time he did so. would also love to run his fingers along your throat and neck every now and then, smirking when he sees you shiver at how sensitive you are.
“my hand around your throat is all you need to cum huh ?”
→ he would love to make you beg for him to choke you out. and bet that he would make you work for it too. seungmin is either going to overstimulate you to death and touch you everywhere, or not touch you at all and make you touch yourself until you can’t take it anymore. either way, it’s not until you beg him that he’ll indulge and wrap his hand around your neck. adores to have you on your knees and fuck your throat before he squeezes it to force you up and finally choke you out properly. also likes to hear how hoarse your voice is after, and how broken your moans sounds.
“instead, i’m going to fuck your throat first. be good and take it, and you’ll get what you want.”
EDGING
→ most of the time, seungmin wouldn’t be mean to you. as long as you didn’t disobey, he would not keep things that you loved away from you. but one time, when you really got on his nerves, he decided to have you crying under him and not let you cum. yes, he touched you like you were asking him to for hours, but that was not enough, seungmin purposely stopping just as you were about to reach your climax. and he loved how tight you were getting every time he ruined another of your orgasms, relishing in the way you cried out every time he did stopped one more time.
“i don’t know why you’re complaining little brat, i’m fucking you just like you asked me to.”
→ one of the things he loves the most about edging you is how shameless you become as he ruins your orgasms again and again. after the third one, you start begging him to let you cum, a delightful sound if you asked him. and if he kept going for a little few more, you would start to moan loudly, to fuck yourself onto his hand or cock, to scratch his forearms with your nails, in a vain attempt of getting him to keep moving his fingers inside of you. he loves that he can get you to such a desperate state so easily. and watching you as you finally release all over him and the sheets, a litany of “thank you” leaving your lips, is certainly one of the hottest things he’s ever seen.
“not yet baby, i know you can handle one more, and after i’ll let you cum. just one more.
HAIR PULLING
→ of course this little tease would love to pull your hair whenever he can. i can picture him dragging you by your hair to the bed if you’ve pissed him off, or using them as a leverage to fuck your throat. his grip will be more loose when he’s in a good mood, but if you’ve been bad and disobeyed him, anything coming near to tenderness would disappear (and you love it). he would like to have you from behind for that one reason, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep you from silencing your moan in the pillow.
“don’t act like that’s not exactly what you wanted brat, i’ll make you remember how much of a slut you are.”
→ and i think he would also adore you tugging at his roots when he’s going down on you, letting out a groan every time you do so. on a softer note, he’s a sucker for you scratching his scalp gently and running your hands through his hair. so it’s no wonder that he loves it too when you’re more rough. he’ll let you pull his hair for a second, biting his lips, before pulling at yours and making you moan loudly, a smirk spreading on his face. would call you out and pretend to punish you for doing that but really it makes him cum so much harder, but you don’t tell him that you noticed and neither that you do it on purpose.
“don’t do that again unless you want me to ruin your tight little cunt.”
YANG JEONGIN
PUBLIC / SEMI-PUBLIC SEX
→ he would certainly be too embarrassed to talk about it to you in the first place, but you would catch on the way he always has his hands on you whenever you’re out with friends, or even if you’re alone. he would put his arm around your shoulder, his hand on your thigh to squeeze it gently from time to time, sometimes letting his fingers creep up a little higher. but it never got further than those lingering touches that made you wonder if he would love to fuck you in the bathroom of the restaurant. until it happened one day, during a dinner with the other members, after not seeing each other for almost a week, he would bend you over the counter of the toilet, making you watch yourself in the mirror as he pounded into you.
“you know what that dress does to me, don’t you ? you just wanted everyone to hear how much of a slut you are for me…”
→ and since then, it almost became a challenge between the two of you to fuck in the most unusual locations. what really got him going was the thought of not only someone hearing how good he was making you feel, but also to see how much of a mess he made out of you every time. he wanted everyone to witness this, wanted them to only be able to envy you because they could never have what you had, never be fucked like he was fucking you. and he’s definitely eager to make you scream particularly loud when you come to the dorms and that the others are here too, turned on by the fact that they could be hearing all the noises you were making.
“no, no, no baby, don’t cover your mouth, i want them to know how good i’m making you feel.”
BEGGING
→ jeongin is a sucker for all the noises you make, so don’t even try to cover your mouth or silence them. he would also enjoy to ask you question while he’s fucking you, just for the pleasure of hearing you struggle to answer to him, interrupted by whines and moans every now and then. but what makes him go feral is when you beg for him. sometimes, he would not force it out of you, you would simply start to beg him for more, or to go faster. and that’s such a turn on for him, because he takes pride in the fact that he’s making you feel as crazy as he is.
“you don’t need to beg for that honey, you’re gonna get it.”
→ but at other times, he would make you work for it and he would absolutely love to see you fall apart under him. jeongin would only put one finger inside of you, not enough to make you cum but certainly enough to drive you insane and beg him to add another one. or he would fuck into you at an agonisingly slow pace, pinning your hips down to prevent you from fucking yourself faster on his cock. and he would not be satisfied until you’re crying for him, pleas falling from your lips non-stop. he feels so powerful, it’s as if you’re helpless and that only him can help you. and well, he kinda is because he has certainly ruined you for any other man.
“you want me to fuck you ? beg for it. beg for it and i’ll think about it.”
PAIN KINK
→ i’ll never shut up about this one, because he definitely loves feeling pain during sex. first and foremost, pull his hair. he would let out the most sinful whimpers if you did. he also loves it when you tug not so gently at them when you two are making out, it makes him hard immediately. i think he also has a thing for scratches. like, scratch his back with your nails all you want, it will only make him go harder on you. he adores how the marks you left burn the next day, and how beautiful it looks in the mirror. it's like you claiming him as yours, and the delicious sting of pain when you’re sinking your nails into his skin makes him cum so much harder.
“fuck baby, i love it so much when you’re rough.”
→ also, even if he knows that he likes pain, he doesn’t know to what extent, and he would be glad to explore all the aspects of his kink with you. he would be down to try a lot of things, and he would also encourage you to bring your own ideas. that’s how he discovered how much he loved it when you slapped him. you were riding him, and he couldn’t stop being cocky about how much you loved his cock, and how whiny you were. the thought crossed your mind, and without much reflection, you landed your hand on his cheek. jeongin left out a noise between surprise and pleasure before asking to do it again, and again.
“slap me again, please… it hurts so good baby.”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls
5K notes
·
View notes
wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.
hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.
wc: 12.9k words.
warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.
note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.
playlist.
Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.
one.
“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”
It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday.
Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight.
He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence.
After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show.
“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.”
Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.
To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes.
“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.
Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.
In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.
You’re a girl.
You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl.
A very pretty girl.
It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it.
His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”
Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you.
Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.
He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him.
“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.
“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.
Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose.
“White!”
The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend.
“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?”
“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.
He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought.
“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”
You pouted, “but that’s what I want!”
The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour.
“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.”
It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time.
“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?”
At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”
The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly.
“You’re my best friend in the world!”
Hyunjin felt like he could die.
His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red.
“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”
At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.
two.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.
It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet.
Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.
“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.
“What?”
“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer.
You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.
“Have you asked me the same thing before?”
He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”
“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”
“It so was!”
Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said.
You queried again.
“What did you answer then?”
Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.
“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”
Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.”
A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red.
Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap.
You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb.
He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.
A fact you didn't want to accept.
It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories.
In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”
“Hm?”
“Would you be wherever I am?”
Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.
It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.
They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.”
Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you?
Dear universe, be good to me.
You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly.
“I’ll be wherever you are too.”
Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.
three.
Don’t be a coward.
Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage.
It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you.
Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could.
Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could.
Okay, step number one failed.
“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.
“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”
“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.
“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin.
Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.”
Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him.
“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”
Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.
“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff.
Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.
It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell.
Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.
“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”
Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”
The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.
Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked.
Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”
He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.
“Hyunjin, what’s up?”
He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.
Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”
Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered.
“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”
The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.
“You were saying?”
Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin.
“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.
So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.
“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”
four.
The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue.
It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head.
“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after.
“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger.
Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next.
Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.
“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper.
On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over.
“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”
“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.”
Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you.
“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are.
He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now?
Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.”
A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug.
“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.
When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself.
“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”
You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.”
How was he meant to tell you about Paris?
“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”
Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more.
Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall.
“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.
“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.”
You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.”
Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.
His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead.
Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck.
Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need.
“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
The exact words he did not need to hear that day.
How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now?
Especially when he was leaving — oceans away.
five.
Hyunjin had always loved soccer.
Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field.
Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.
He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would.
Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat.
Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?”
“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”
“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”
Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding.
“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.
“It’s Yn, isn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.”
Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.
“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”
“The fact that you like her?”
“Yeah.”
Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.
“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.”
“Why?”
“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”
“I mean —”
Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”
The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side.
“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”
Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back.
“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”
Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it.
Bitter truths, but true regardless.
six.
“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”
“Please, stay patient. Will you?”
Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.
“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!”
“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”
Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.
After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink.
Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.
The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense.
Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in.
You were as pretty as the flowers.
“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you.
From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness.
“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”
Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms.
Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.”
Like a scene from a movie.
Like he wasn’t going away soon.
Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal.
“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.
Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”
You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”
“You look good from any angle.”
Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then.
“Okay…”
Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.
“You didn’t even count to three!”
Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.
“I wasn’t ready!”
“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”
“So you’re calling me pretty?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”
Right. He has never.
You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.
Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo.
Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever.
If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.
“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”
Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience.
“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”
“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”
“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”
Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him.
“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his.
Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now.
Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too.
If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey?
He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.
Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours.
Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.
Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.
Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway.
“I win.”
The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face.
“Oh.”
The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things?
Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about.
Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.
Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks.
“See you soon?” you mumbled.
Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.
You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way.
Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face.
Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.
“Yeah, see you soon.”
The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you.
seven.
One day before your birthday.
It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.
“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.”
She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all.
“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”
“Of course.”
You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal.
“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”
Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say.
“My girl, did he not tell you?”
Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.
Was there?
It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze.
“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”
“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”
“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”
The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.
You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”
Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”
Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room.
He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears.
Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.
When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth.
All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty.
All traces of Hyunjin were gone.
The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal.
“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.”
More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along.
The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart.
Your best friend was truly gone.
“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.”
The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn.
If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter.
“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”
The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more.
“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”
It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay.
You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse.
Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.
In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.
eight.
“Coffee, or tea?”
A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip.
“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath.
“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”
Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time.
The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.
“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”
The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do.
Hyunjin wanted to turn back.
Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?
If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him?
Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over.
The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.
Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you.
Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear.
You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more.
As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.
The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment.
No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five.
Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time.
His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you.
Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
nine.
There are five stages of grief.
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things.
Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.
Motivation.
After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them.
Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.
Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.
Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it.
Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.
Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries.
“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!”
The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip.
Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking.
Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.
He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin.
Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.
“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”
“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up.
Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man.
You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.
“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”
Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”
“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”
How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap.
You were confused.
Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”
You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”
She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”
Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back.
It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.
Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.
“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”
“Secret lover?”
“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”
Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.
How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?
Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue.
Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.
ten.
You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.
For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?
Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.
Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.
In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.
A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it.
9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.
One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.
After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.
The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty.
They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin.
Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.
It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.
There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia.
The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized.
It was a fragment of your memory.
Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved.
A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face?
You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display.
Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.
Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece.
When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy.
Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.
“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible.
The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you.
Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.
“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”
A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.
“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”
“It’s you, too. You’re here.”
Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch.
“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.
You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears.
“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”
“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”
“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”
Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.
“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”
Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.
“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”
“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”
Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.
“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”
At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.
“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”
And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up.
I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.
Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other.
“Please, give me a second chance.”
It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.
“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”
“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.”
He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.
“It's always been you.”
eleven.
“Careful — come on, get under here.”
Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love.
You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.
Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot.
Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.
“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.
While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”
“How’d you find this place?”
“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”
Your heart swelled at the confession.
“It does resemble that one a lot.”
The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that.
He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear.
“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”
For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”
The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.
Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled.
“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”
“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”
“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”
“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”
The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”
You kissed him, for the second time that night.
“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”
twelve.
Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well.
After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”
You couldn’t deny it, of course.
Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint.
It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.
After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over.
Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.
“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”
“Then come cuddle.”
He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend.
“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”
Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”
Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one.
“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”
To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body.
“You coming to the exposition?”
“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”
“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”
He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body.
You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.
Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs.
Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.
Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.
Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.
Over a week ago.
Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything.
After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed.
“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”
You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.
thirteen.
You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.
The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment.
Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again.
Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.
“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”
“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”
Damn you, Reine.
Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.
“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”
It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.
You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper.
You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.
“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”
Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?
Trembling, you parted your lips to speak.
“You’re hiding things from me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”
Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.
“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”
Ah.
Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.
“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”
“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”
“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”
You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way.
Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.
“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”
“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”
“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”
“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."
A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.
Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.
"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."
disclaimer — © 2024 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.
taglist: @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @starlostlaiba , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel-reblogs, @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @cb97whoree , @alyszaen , @aaliyahxsx , @jeonginsyoungestsibling , @hyunluvxo , @bokk-minnie , @ghostyycat7 , @fortunatelyhertragedy @yongbokkari @ameliesaysshoo @seoli-16 @jisungsdaydreamer @soobnny @seolboba @in2heartz @jehhskz @astraystayyh @mnwrld
1K notes
·
View notes