Hyunjin Smut - Blog Posts

𝙰𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎 | 𝙷.𝙷𝙹

pairing: auntie!Hyunjin x afab gn!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, fluff (if you squint), established relationship, crossdressing, mommy kink, spit, exhibitionism, public sex, choking, mirror sex, degradation, praise, etc.

a/n: a huge thank you goes to @httpdwaekki for helping me proof read the final draft since my ADHD refused to focus <3

Hyunjin has always been so pretty. He was the definition of a pretty boy, your pretty boy. His slender figure was accented with lean muscles, his angular face. He had a sharp and strong bone structure that was contrasted perfectly with more soft and feminine features. His eyes were catlike and striking, making his expressions almost dangerous. He truly was the most beautiful mixture of feminine and masculine beauty.

It didn't matter if you were backstage for one of his performances or on the sidelines outside the scope of the cameras during the filming of SKZ code episodes, interviews, promotions, or even live streams. You could always be found watching in awe as stylists crafted stunning outfits that painted him as their muse in a creation of elegant gender neutrality, highlighting his most feminine and most masculine assets. Using makeup to sketch the most breathtaking images of pure unfiltered beauty directly onto his features.

You were staring at your boyfriend in awe as he got dolled up for the newest Skz code episode, the return of Skz Family. You'd expected him to yet again be put in that god-awful, insulting black bob wig that always pissed you off as it hid just how beautiful Hyunjin was. Instead, the stylists began to tie his gorgeous golden brown locks into an elegant but messy bun, adding accents of wispy waves that framed his face in a way that added to his femininity in a way you'd never expected.

It wasn't anything new for the members to witness you being transfixed and nearly hypnotized as the stylists worked their magic. What was new was the way your eyes darkened as you watched it happening. You could feel your mouth salivating at the sight of the stylists adorning him in elegant, golden jewelry and soft makeup to make him look so utterly female.

He was still seated in the stylist's chair as they worked on him when your gaze traveled over him hungrily. Desire began settling into your bones, unlocking something so new and raw inside of you at your boyfriend transforming into such a gorgeous woman and it took you completely by surprise. Your gaze had caught his fiery one that was staring back at you through the mirror, a curious smirk settling onto his plump lips that were glossed in a sticky pink sheen.

You had to forcefully pry your eyes off of him as the stylists were adding the finishing touches. You trained your eyes to the floor, the feeling of slick heat sticking to your underwear was now painfully obvious as you shifted in your seat, still feeling his burning gaze on your skin making you shrink into yourself. You had to squeeze your thighs together to try to calm the arousal pooling in your lower abdomen.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt the burning touch of Hyunjin's fingertips gently trace lines across the expanse of your shoulders. You were wearing a tank top so you were able to feel every tingle that erupted into goosebumps on your skin that followed his touch from your right shoulder, across the nape of your neck, and ended at the other shoulder when he sauntered behind you and landed at your side, the one furthest from the stylist chair.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, still refusing to look up when his long slender fingers wrapped delicately around the back of your neck, squeezing slightly at the veins on either side of it causing a blissful head rush to form. You were already crumbling under your pretty boyfriend's touch and he'd barely done anything. It was very rare for you to become this weak so easily and it took both of you by surprise but Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying your loss of composure significantly more than you were.

He kept his advances subtle, targeting every single one of your weaknesses throughout the filming. During every break, the other members would chat with each other, drink water, eat a snack, or check their phones but Hyunjin would always land that piercing gaze on you. The fire of desire that burned through his irises left you feeling hot to the touch, exposed, vulnerable, and oh-so weak.

Sometimes he'd find his way back to your side and you'd feel a large hand landing on the top of your thigh, down by your knee while he continued chatting with the members. Those long slender fingers drawing patterns on the skin of your inner thigh with featherlight touches. The intimacy of the action, as he trained his attention on his members, was causing shivers to run up and down your spine.

The filming seemed to drag on painfully slow while your boyfriend continued to tease you in ways that no one would be able to catch onto. It was like a naughty secret spoken without words between the two of you as your arousal continued coursing through your veins and you had to fight every single tell of your body to keep anyone from catching on.

You were squeezing your thighs together the best you could without having to shift in your chair, and you were biting back soft whimpers that threatened to escape every time Hyunjin displayed his masculinity while appearing so unbelievably feminine. That was accomplished through his man spread, sitting unladylike the way he knew you loved, flexing his arms that were displayed past the loose sleeves of the blouse he wore when he grabbed something, or raising his voice in a deep and domineering tone.

"Cut! Okay, good job boys. That's it for today. So after you're ready to leave, go ahead and go out to the vans, and everyone should go get a nice dinner while we pack up here. Then you can all go back to your dorms since you guys have the rest of the night off." their manager told the group of boys who erupted into their usual post-film banter. Minho was first to go to the stylists, getting his wig and makeup removed, changing out of his Hanbok, and changing into more casual clothes.

You helped the staff pack up in the meantime. They were all telling you that you didn't have to help but you insisted just like with every single shoot in the past. You'd grown pretty friendly with their staff and managers having been Hyunjin's partner for a while now so it was easy to fall into casual conversation while you worked with your back turned to the boys.

"Hyunjin-ssi, let's get that makeup off and get you into your casual clothes." the stylist said while using a hand to call the taller man over. He stood up and was about to walk over until his eyes landed on you, the red blush still very obviously painted across the back of your neck and reaching the tips of your ears. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips and he began to make his way towards you instead of going straight to the stylist.

You jumped slightly when you felt the featherlight touch of his fingertips graze the slightly exposed skin of your lower back where your tank top had ridden up as you helped the staff. A tingle shot up your spine and once again you had to bite back a whimper. "Noona, I think I wanna keep this on, is that okay?" he purred.

His hand landed on your right hip as he stood behind you with his right side facing your back, looking at the stylist. His hand on your hip was hidden by being on the opposite side from the staff you were helping and his grip became tight on your hip bone as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, sure to leave bruises.

You couldn't help but stand up a bit straighter and look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend beaming brightly at the stylist, standing tall and looking so nonchalant. There was no sign that he had such a powerful hold on you as his Noona just hummed softly, nodding at him and calling Felix over instead to get his Makeup off and fix his hair.

Throughout the rest of the members getting undressed and dressed in more casual clothes, you could feel Hyunjin's eyes burning holes into your flesh, unaware if his eyes ever left you. Even as the nine of you filed into the vans to go get dinner, his eyes were trained on you and his hand naturally found its home on your upper thigh.

"How's that pretty boy fetish of yours doing hmmm?" he hummed into the shell of your ear. His warm breath fanned over the skin of your neck and a shiver ran through your body as your head snapped in his direction. A pout on your lips and your big boba eyes meeting his feline ones.

"It is not a fetish." you quietly hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring his actual question since you already knew he was only asking because he knew how poorly you were holding up.

"What? Not gonna answer me?" he egged on and you rolled your eyes at him before returning your attention to scrolling through TikTok on your phone as you were doing before hearing his snide remark.

You heard him huff out a chuckle right next to your ear and he looked back out his window in the van, squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh making you jump slightly, having to bite your tongue to hold in the yelp that threatened to escape.

When you guys arrived at the restaurant, there were masks and hats fitted to everyone's face including your own as you were guided to the section of the restaurant the company had rented out to ensure privacy while you all ate. Hyunjin sat on your left side and Minho was seated on your right, your body being comfortably fitted between the two men.

Everything went on as normal during dinner, conversations floated easily through everyone at the table while everyone was eating to their heart's content, some pulling out their phones at times while they ate. Hyunjin's hand was still settled on your upper thigh as always and you could still feel him watching you at times but everything felt normal for the first half of dinner.

That was until you felt Hyunjin's fingers slowly snake their way further up your leg and his fingertips slipping under the fabric of your shorts. The tip of his middle finger was not even a millimeter from your clothed core when you caught his wrist in your hand, stopping him from being able to move. You held his hand in place and shot the taller man a glare to say 'not in front of them' which he only smirked at before turning back to his conversation and continuing his advances.

He was stronger than you so your grip didn't stop him from lightly running the pad of his middle finger over your drenched slit, not that you tried very hard to stop him in the first place. Your arousal that'd been building all day was now painfully obvious to your boyfriend as he touched you over your soaked underwear. You could hear a soft groan escape his throat as he felt your arousal drench his fingers instantly. Luckily Changbin was shouting at the perfect moment, his groan going undetected by anyone but you.

You had to put all of your focus on chewing the food that was in your mouth while breathing normally, making sure you didn’t choke on the food as you ate. Not letting out any of the moans or whimpers bubbling in your throat as his fingertips slipped under the fabric of your underwear and began to slowly drag through your wet folds. Although it was easier for him to remain calm compared to you since he wasn't the one being teased and toyed with under the table, you could still see he was struggling a bit too. The tent in his pants that was twitching painfully as he remained present in his conversation was a dead giveaway.

Hyunjin's fingers were beyond drenched by now, your grip on his wrist was tight as your nails dug into the skin on the inside of his arm, creating small red crescents indented into the paler flesh. He played with your clit for a while, causing your legs to twitch under the table, luckily going unnoticed by Minho who was sitting closest to you aside from your boyfriend, before sliding his middle finger inside your desperate hole and curling his finger to press against your plush walls.

Feeling the wet silk of your walls wrap around his digit made his eyes roll back slightly, a growl coming from his chest as his adam's apple bobbed in his throat with a harsh swallow. He leaned over you, pressing a kiss into the hair at the top of your head before leaning lower to whisper in your ear. His self-control was about to snap and he knew you were about to cum on his fingers from the way you clenched around him. He couldn't have you cumming in your pants, it'd make too much of a mess and he couldn't live with himself if he let all of your delicious fluids go to waste, so he decided that needed to do something about this.

"I think I'm ready to eat my dessert. Meet me in the restroom." was all he whispered against the shell of your ear before removing his finger from inside you, a quiet but desperate whine escaping your lips at your denied orgasm and he slipped out of the booth. Your glassy, half-lidded eyes watched him as he left and shoved his middle finger that was just buried inside of you into his mouth to suck your juices off of it while he maintained eye contact and disappeared around the corner. Luckily the entire exchange went completely unnoticed by the rest of the group.

When Hyunjin got into the bathroom, he locked the door behind himself and leaned against the sink, waiting for you as he palmed himself through his pants. Missing the taste of you, his fingers made their way back into his mouth, a deep guttural groan ripped through him in response to the addictive taste of you exploding across his taste buds as his eyes rolled back in bliss.

After a couple of minutes, he heard you knocking a beat on the door so he'd know it was you. You didn't even have a chance to finish the beat before the door flew open and you were yanked into the bathroom roughly by the wrist and your back was slammed against the door. Hyunjin was ravishing your mouth in an instant as he pushed his thigh between your legs and caged you against the door with his body. You could feel the wet spot forming on the fabric of your shorts and meeting the pale skin of his muscular thighs. The shorts he'd worn for the shoot had rode up his thighs a bit when he pushed his leg flush against your core causing the exposed skin to be in direct contact with the now soaked, thin fabric you wore.

"Are you gonna be good and let me taste you hm? Let Auntie Hyune make you feel good?" His voice was deep and sultry as he spoke his words against your swollen, spit-slicked lips as the two of you separated from the heated kiss. You let out a whine and nodded frantically in response, a small broken "p-please?" fell from your lips in the form of a whimper as your lust-filled eyes landed on his own set of red and swollen lips, the lip gloss making the spit that covered them look even messier.

He wasted no time sinking to the floor on his knees as he used his fingertips to slide into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them down to your ankles in one swift motion. He quickly got to work, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your right thigh while he lifted the other one to place it over his shoulder. Your back was still pinned against the door for support and the scent of your arousal was flooding his nose, making him feel intoxicated.

His kisses continued for a bit longer on the inside of your thigh and the hand that held your other leg on his shoulder squeezed and kneaded at the flesh. Getting lost in the feeling against his hand while sucking hickeys to the inside of your thighs when a long, needy whine left your lips. His eyes finally met your glistening core before flicking up to your pleading expression, a smirk on his lips when he saw just how fucked out you looked without him doing much to you yet.

"P-Please Jinnie... touch me..." you whimper while maintaining eye contact and watched intently as he brought his face close to your core. Not yet allowing himself to taste you while his nose nudged softly at the hair on your pubic bone, teasing you a bit. "I don't think that's what you should call me right now baby~" he purred as the air from his words fanned across your throbbing clit, a shiver running through you and a whimper that matched it falling from your lips.

"Try again and if you get it right, you'll get a reward. Auntie will make you feel so fucking good~" he purred out and his eyes met yours, his gaze was borderline feral, and his need was written all over his face as he licked his lips. He needed you in his mouth right that second and you were taking a little too long to think of what to call him. His patience thinning, deciding to pinch the flesh of the thigh on his shoulder, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Mommy! please... please touch me mommy..." you begged the man on his knees for you. A low primal growl filled the small space of the bathroom before his self-control snapped and he dove into your heat like a man starved. His skillful tongue was lapping at your juices while he was grunting and groaning against you, your addictive taste filling his mouth once again.

His hands moved to your ass, nails digging into the plumb flesh and pulling your heat impossibly closer to his face as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your thigh that was planted on his shoulder was beginning to tremble and your fingers wrapped around his hands that held your ass firmly. You didn't want to mess up his pretty hair by locking your fists into his hair like you normally would so his hands were a good substitute.

High pitched whimpers fell from your lips as he quickly worked you close to your orgasm, that knot in your abdomen tightening when he started pushing his tongue in and out of your heat, fucking you open on it. Your soft "ah ah ah"s began mixing with Hyunjin's deep groans and the sound of him slurping and lapping at your sloppy cunt.

"M-mommy fuck... I- I'm..." You were close, so painfully close but you knew you didn't have his permission to cum so it took all of your remaining effort to hold it all back as his tongue never slowed down against you. Your head lolling forward as you tried to hold yourself up on shaking legs.

"So good for mommy~ go ahead, Angel. Cum on mommy's tongue." he cooed against you before resuming his desperate feast of you. That's all you needed to let that knot finally snap and you doubled over, cumming all over your boyfriend's pretty face as he slurped, continuing to work his tongue inside and against you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His tongue settled into a lazy pace as he watched your face that was painted with that beautiful fucked out expression he loved so much. After a short while of this, your breathing started to settle again and he pulled away.

He hadn't realized that you were using him to hold yourself up until your thigh was removed from its place over his shoulder and your knees buckled, causing you to almost fall to the ground but luckily he caught you easily. His cock was still painfully hard in the gray shorts he wore as he scooped you into his arms, moving the both of you so you could sit on the sink as your legs trembled.

He took his place standing between your legs as he began planting soft kisses on your head, temple, and cheek to bring you back to reality. Aftercare was his specialty, it didn't matter if it was a quicky, oral, or him ruining you and fucking you dumb on his cock, he always made sure to give you the best aftercare. "That's it my pretty baby, you did so good for me. I'm so proud of you love." he praised you and continued his soft kisses all over your face as his hands gently massaged your hips.

"Hey baby?" he cooed after a few moments as you came back down fully, his comfort helping you not go into sub-drop and you hummed in response, looking up at him with heavy and almost sleepy eyes. Your juices still covered his nose and chin as he looked at you with so much love and adoration as if you'd hung the stars in the sky.

"The only thing here to clean you up with is paper towels and that's gonna be too rough on your pretty skin. Can mommy use her tongue to clean you up?'' His words were filthy but the deliverance was sweet and loving, almost innocent. "Yes... Mommy can." you cooed back and he smiled softly.

He gently licked the skin on your thighs, around your still pulsing core, and along your folds, being careful not to go crazy from the taste again and push you into overstimulation. Once he was satisfied with his job of cleaning you up, he came back up to stare into your eyes and one of his large hands were resting on your cheek as his thumb rubbed softly across the pink blush that'd settled there.

"My turn to clean you up. Can't have mommy going back out there with her pretty face covered in my juices." you cooed and pulled him into a soft but heated kiss, your tongue tasting yourself on his lips first before making its way around his chin, jaw, nose, and cheeks with small kitten licks to make sure there was no evidence left of what had just happened.

The exchange was loving and innocent but you knew he wasn't done with you. He hadn't even gotten to cum yet and you'd never let your beautiful boyfriend go without his release after he's earned it with the performance he'd just given you. When you were about to ask him if you could suck him off there was a banging at the door.

"Oi! Y'all need to hurry up and quit fucking in there! some of us actually wanna go home." Chan's voice boomed and the both of you stared at each other with wide eyes, having been caught before you both erupted into laughter. Your legs were more stable now as you hopped off the counter and got dressed again. His cock was now mostly soft in his pants, and his face was clean again, both of you perfectly put back together as if nothing had happened aside from the sheen of sweat on your skin.

When you both made it back to the table, hand in hand, you were met with some teasingly annoyed faces and some mischievous smirks as you both were eyed up and down before everyone stood, filing out of the restaurant with hats and masks back in place before climbing back into their respective vans to head back to the dorm. The ride back was silent with everyone full from the filling meal, some napping in the car, and others on their phones.

When the van you and Hyunjin were in, along with Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, arrived at the dorms, you all climbed out and grabbed your bags. The four of you climbed up the steps to the front door with Chan leading the way and unlocking the door for the rest of you. Once you were all inside he locked the door back and you all took off your shoes and put on the slippers at the door.

You were the last one in and as you stood up straight once your slippers were fitted perfectly to your feet you noticed that the other three were staring you and Hyunjin down. Eyeing you both up and down and you suddenly felt shy under their pointed stares.

"So, Jinnie..." Chan hummed out, gaining your attention and your boyfriend's. Chan had his arms crossed against his chest, looking like a dad who was about to scold you. "Is there a reason you suddenly wanted to keep your Auntie outfit?" he asked, his suspicion showing in his tone.

Hyunjin couldn't help but smirk and look at you where you stood stiff, eyes wide and avoiding everyone's eye contact. Seeing you like that made a huff of laughter leave Hyunjin's nose before he looked back up to Chan. "I think Y/N-ie could answer that question a lot better than I could. Isn't that right Angel?" his hand landed on your hip, pulling your body close so your sides were pressed flush together.

"I- it's... N-no um..." you were mumbling and trying to come up with any words to say that wasn't "apparently I have a mommy kink and like to fuck my boyfriend while he crossdresses." but your mind was blank, unable to think of anything except getting wrecked by Hyunjin while he was dressed as Auntie Hyune.

The three producers continued to stare you down and a flush rose along your neck reaching your cheeks and turning your ears a bright shade of red. Jisung's face contorted into an expression of disgust as he was the first to realize, being the horniest person to exist, of course, he'd be the first to figure out the kinky shit.

"OH MY GOD- EW! I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR CROSSDRESSING KINK HYUNG!" Jisung whined and covered his face and Changbin and Chan seemed to realize then, a smirk growing wider on Hyunjin's face and you shrunk into yourself in embarrassment.

"Soundproof headphones and locking ourselves in our rooms. got it." Chan groaned and turned to hide in his room, the other two following suit and leaving you and Hyunjin standing there alone.

"Well, we've got plenty of time and no need to stay quiet baby~ now, let mommy take care of you," he growled as he pulled you by your hips flush against his hardening cock, lips attacking your own in a feverish kiss, tongues dancing together outside of your mouths for a moment before your lips connected again.

"THEY WEREN'T EVEN ON YET!" you heard Changbin's voice carry through the dorms, a chuckle leaving both you and Hyunjin in response before he lifted you by your thighs, earning a yelp from you in surprise as your legs wrapped around his waist and he carried you to his room, his lips attached to your neck. He kicked the door shut behind him once the two of you were inside before he let your back land on his bed.

He climbed over your body, caging you against the mattress while he nestled himself between your legs. He continued painting your skin in gorgeous blooms of red and purple. His hips were languidly grinding into your core, his needy cock finally getting the friction he'd been craving, his movements eliciting a high-pitched whine from you as your hands slipped their way under the billowy white fabric of his blouse.

Your fingertips explored the pale flesh stretched over his sharp dancer hips before moving a bit higher. Your fingertips were light, barely making contact with the skin making the touch tickle but in the most intimate of ways. The tips of your fingers settled on the last rid of the cage you'd found home in, the one that held you inside his heart and safe from the world.

Your thumbs rubbed circles into the muscles of his abs, pushing in periodically to massage the tender flesh, the feeling causing Hyunjin to let out a moan that was swallowed by your feverish kiss that hadn't broken since he'd gotten you on the bed.

Both of you feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen was the only reason the two of you separated. He continued the movements of his hips that matched your hips rolling against him as his forehead came to rest on your shoulder. He let out a shuddering sigh mixed with a moan, the noise becoming one of your favorite ones he'd ever made.

"Does Mommy need a little help?" you purred, suddenly feeling a bit more dominant than you had in the restaurant bathroom. Your words caused Hyunjin's hips to stutter momentarily as a broken whimper fell from his swollen lips. You felt him barely nod against your shoulder, your hands continuing their massaging of his sides until the pad of your index finger grazed his sensitive buds.

He let out another whine, allowing you to take over the grinding as he kept his focus on not cumming in his pants yet and keeping his body weight supported by his arms as they trembled.

"Mommy, can I please take off your clothes? I need to see mommy's pretty cock." Your words were a sweet mix of desperate, submissive, dominant, pleading, and demanding. The subtle authority in your voice was met with Hyunjin moaning before pushing himself up off the bed to sit back on his haunches, keeping himself nestled between your thighs, home to him, exactly where he belonged.

"Please, angel? I need to feel you so bad, I need your skin on mine. I need you so fucking bad." His sentence was almost a whine at first before shifting into a deep growl on his last sentence. He was actively fighting an internal battle of wanting to dominate you in every way and have you fucked dumb by his cock and wanting to give you all the control and beg you to use him as your toy until he can't even remember his own name.

Having noticed the struggle, you carefully removed each article of his clothing, pressing soft kisses along the flesh as more and more of his gorgeous body was exposed. You didn't wanna do anything to force him into a decision that he may not be happy with so you were giving him a moment, using all of your self-control not to jump on his cock the second it was exposed to you.

His cock was so so pretty.

A pretty, pale cock with a blush pink tip. It was leaking pre-cum as he watched you taking a moment to just admire his body. The way your eyes shone with love and adoration, lust and hunger, was something he'd never get used to.

Hyunjin carded his fingers through your hair, his eyes never leaving yours when you looked up at him with the softest, most innocent look while drooling over the sight of his cock, finally making a decision.

He didn't voice his choice, primal urges taking over as his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed the sides enough to cut off blood flow. At the same time as an almost pornographic noise left you, he was leaning forward as he pulled you in closer by your throat. His lips on yours again with a growl and you opened your mouth to get oxygen again.

He took your open mouth as an invitation to lick into your mouth with his lips separated from yours. Both of your tongues fought for dominance in a messy drooly battle that had saliva drenching both of your chins as it leaked down from your lips and tongues. It was so unbelievably hot, you didn't think kissing could get any more filthy and arousing than this until Hyunjin pulled away just enough to spit onto your tongue that was still out for him and a shudder ran through your body.

"Now, why don't you be a good fucking slut for mommy and let me use that sloppy cunt of yours huh?" His words were harsh, in the best of ways. Before you could choke out a response, you were pushed back onto the bed and Hyunjin ripped your clothes off of you, hating how you were far too covered for his liking and the barrier of clothes didn't let him get close enough to you.

Once he had you completely exposed to him, he manhandled you into the position he wanted you. He sat on the edge of the bed with both feet planted firmly to the floor, you were kneeling over his lap with both knees on either side of his thighs. You were holding yourself up over his cock facing the giant full-length mirror that faced the bed, your eyes meeting each other in the reflection as you both silently devoured the lewd sight.

"You're gonna do exactly as I say, got it?" he asked in a deep tone, a whimper escaping your lips in response before nodding and maintaining eye contact in the mirror. You were biting your bottom lip as you awaited his instructions but you saw his large hand come up and be pulled back before it came crashing down onto the side of your ass hard and fast, too fast for your brain to even register it. A high-pitched yelp left your throat and your eyes screwed shut.

"Use your fucking words, Angel. You know better than to break the rules," he said through clenched teeth and your eyes opened again to meet his. Your breathing was a bit quicker and shakier than before as you opened your mouth to give him a proper response.

"Y-yes ma'am, I- I'll be good. I promise." you whimpered softly and a low guttural groan was ripped from his chest at the way you'd called him ma'am, the name making his cock twitch underneath your still hovering and dripping heat. Your hole acts like a faucet with a never-ending flow of your arousal in response to the pretty man behind you.

"You're gonna let me split you open on this pretty cock that you go dumb for and while I wreck you, you're gonna watch everything. You aren't allowed to look away or keep your eyes shut or there will be consequences. Understood?" his hands landed on your hips again as he awaited your consent. His words were a demand but if you genuinely didn't consent to this demand for any reason at all, then that would be the end of it.

"Please Mommy, I- I need you inside of me... n-need to be so f- ah!" when he slammed your hips down, stretching you open on his cock with so much force it felt like your ass would be bruised, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

A growl erupted from his chest at the feeling of your silky walls wrapping around his length, clenching around his sensitive cock, and sucking him in further than he imagined possible. Considering you were sitting fully down on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt and his pelvis now drenched in your liquids. The feeling caused his eyes to threaten to roll into the back of his head, no matter how many times he felt you around him, he could never get used to just how good you felt.

"Feel that? Can you feel Mommy's cock carving out that sweet hole of yours? hmm? This hole belongs to me, it's fucking molded to the shape of my cock. All. Fucking. Mine." His final words were met with punctuation between them in the form of him lifting you momentarily before slamming you back down onto himself with an unrelenting force.

"All- fuck! all yours- ngghh- mommy. I'm mommy's- Oh my god! Mommy's t-toy..." you're words mixed with loud moans, sure the entire neighborhood could hear just how amazing your boyfriend was making you feel and surely 3racha's headphones probably weren't canceling enough noise as you were practically screaming for the man who was truly using you like a Fleshlight.

Your eyes never left the mirror and you could see Hyunjin was struggling to thrust into you in this position. You wanted to ask him if he wanted to adjust but you were trying so hard to catch your breath that you couldn't speak. Each harsh snap of his hips was met with him slamming you down to meet his thrusts, knocking the wind out of your lungs each time.

As if he could read your mind, he used his grip on your hips to lift you up till only half of his cock was buried inside of you and held you still. He leaned back and planted one hand on the mattress behind him to hold himself up and the other arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you back a bit to be supported against his chest.

"Knees up and put your feet flat on the mattress baby." you obeyed his damn and got into a squatting position, making sure to keep his cock from slipping out of you as you adjusted. In the new position you could see a small bulge in your lower abdomen under where his arm had locked you to his chest, his cock pressed so deeply inside of you that you could see him inside you.

"Would you look at that~" he cooed as he admired the bulge in the mirror, moving his hand so his fingers rested softly on top of it and he rolled his hips just a bit so he could see and feel his cock moving inside of you and filling you up. A growl left him and his eyes fluttered blissfully at the filth of what was happening.

"Just look at how Mommy's cock carves out your insides with her cock, so fucking perfect for me baby." he cooed, the flip between degrading you and praising you was making you feel a bit dizzy in the best way. He felt you clench around him and your juices flooding his cock in response to it all and he couldn't hold back anymore.

The new position allowed him to thrust up into you at a brutal pace, his tip slamming into that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly and abusing it. Wanton moans and whines were punched out of you with every slam of his cock, mixing with strings of curses and his name. His own animalistic groans and growls along with some more high-pitched whines and whimpers from him filled the room.

"F-fuck.. mommy that's so- ah! so g-good. L-look so good f-filling me up" Your eyes were fighting to roll back into your head as your brain started turning into mush with how incredible you felt and that familiar knot was forming again deep in your lower abdomen.

"That's my perfect slut, such a pretty fucking cum-dump. Want Mommy to fill you up hmm? Wan' mommy to pump you full of her babies? Breed you like the dumb pup you are?" his words came out a bit frantic as his cock was twitching desperately inside of you, his own impending release not far away.

"Please! fuck! wan' mommy's cum! please please please fill me up, I've been good!" you begged him, your words slurring together as you felt yourself close to going completely brain-dead on his cock. His release didn't take long after hearing you screaming and begging for him, his hips snapping into you one last time and pulling you down fully. You felt his white-hot ropes filling you up and your own orgasm ripping through you, squirting all over the reflective surface of the mirror and your eyes finally rolled back into your skull.

You arched hard against Hyunjin's chest as you came and your head rolled back against his shoulder and his grip remained tight around your waist. Using his arm to rock you on his cock to work both of you through the aftershocks of one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you'd both ever felt, both your chests heaving desperately to fill your lungs with oxygen again.

You stayed like that for a few moments, your walls naturally fluttering around the cock still buried deep inside of you and pushing him to overstimulation. Letting out a hiss in response, he lifted you off his cock to lay you down on the plush mattress next to him. A whine leaves your trembling frame at the empty feeling, the noise earning a coo from your boyfriend and he lets his hair down from the bun before allowing himself to collapse back onto the bed again, next to you.

The both of you cuddled for a while, still sticky with sweat and Hyunjin's cum leaking out of you but you were too tired to care. He recovered a lot faster than you, noticing the puddle forming under you that was made of both his and your releases. He placed a lingering kiss on your temple and climbed out of the bed to grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom, returning to get you as clean as he could knowing you were battling sleep and unable to take a shower. It'd just have to wait until the morning.

He left your side again, placing the rag in the hamper before moving to your wardrobe. He slipped on some boxers and a pair of light grey sweats to sleep in and grabbed you a new pair of underwear and one of his oversized tee shirts for you to sleep in. He carefully got your almost asleep form dressed and climbed into the bed, avoiding the wet spot left over from his cum he'd cleaned up, and pulled you close to his body.

You fell asleep almost instantly when you felt his body wrap around yours. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep as well, soft smile on both of your faces.

You both woke up the next morning, entering the living area of the dorms to be met with a grumpy-looking 3racha.

"Really? Did you really have to fuck until damn near 4 in the fucking morning?" Chan groaned out.

"Seriously, we can't sleep with those bulky ass headphones which we could still slightly hear your screaming through with the volume turned up all the way." Changbin retorted.

"The last, and I mean the LAST thing I needed to hear so early in the morning is Hyunjin Hyung being called Mommy over and over again." Jisung finished off and he shivered dramatically and all three of them started fake gagging. A deep red blush painted your cheeks as you tried to shrink and hide your face in your hands with a groan. Hyunjin's cockiness never left him and he let out a laugh, making his way to the kitchen for breakfast. You trailed close behind him in shame, head still low as you looked through the gaps in your finger to watch where you were going.

Neither of you would be able to live this one down but it was completely worth it. You knew you'd get to fuck Auntie Hyunjin again and that alone was enough to make up for the embarrassment and teasing you'd be putting up with for the next few weeks.

hey Green, i’ve just come from the Lee Know one shot you wrote and i’ve already read some of your other works and i’m in love! i see you also write smut so i was wondering if you could write something with Hyunjin? tbh i was thinking of something like it’s the first time he and the reader (fem!) make love, not like losing their virginity or anything. they’re both adults but they’ve been dating for a bit and feel ready for this next part? maybe add a bit of awkwardness to add a bit of realism to it?

if not, totally okay! i just love your writing!

also, a little side note..can i be 🌪️ anon? is that weird? i’m sorry!

Hello 🌪️! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this but I hope you enjoy it! This took me a while to complete purely because I couldn’t figure out the pacing of it, but I’m finally satisfied with it and I hope you’ll be as well! This was genuinely such a fun request, though, and I feel like a lot of people don't really talk about how lowkey awkward it can be when you're having sex with someone for the first time — regardless of whether either of you are virgins or not, and also regardless of how much chemistry you have with them! Sex doesn't follow a specific guide that everyone enjoys, so it can sometimes take a little bit of trial and error until you figure out what your partner likes and what they don't. We also should always consider the anxiety that a lot of people experience right before as well as during, which can often mess up their performance, which is totally okay!

Anyway, sorry for the mini-rant, I just feel like these are things that should be normalized! Especially when it comes to writing since a lot of these (wonderful, might I add) authors glorify the idea of first time you have sex with your partner goes absolutely perfect. It doesn't mean that it never happens, but it's important to also know this. Okay, seriously, moving on — thank you for your support! <3

Please feel free to send me other requests or asks and I promise I'll try to do better about responding! Again, sorry it took me so long! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 🌧️

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 4.5k

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ On a rainy evening, a deepening connection unfolds between you and Hyunjin as you explore your newfound intimacy in the cozy sanctuary of your studio apartment. Amidst clumsy yet heartfelt moments, your bond blossoms into a magical dance of tenderness and desire, celebrated under the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested a little bit ago by my lovely 🌪️ Anon! I genuinely loved working on this purely for the awkwardness between Y/N and Hyunjin. I just feel like this is something that is not talked about enough, especially within the writing community. It's completely normal to be a bit clumsy and/or awkward the first time you have sex with someone — it doesn't mean that you or your partner is a virgin or is bad at it! Everyone's tastes when it comes to this is different so it might take a second to figure your partner out! And that's totally okay! Alright, anyway, requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, established relationship, it's first time Hyunjin fingers you, neither of you are virgins, it's awkward and a little clumsy at the beginning, very fluffy, please let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

It had been a Saturday to remember, one that etched itself into the tapestry of your memories, marked by the presence of Hyunjin. His charismatic charm had woven itself through your days for the past month, casting a spell of enchantment that lingered in the air. Though the span of time you had spent together might appear fleeting in the grand scheme of things, it felt as if you had experienced an entire lifetime’s worth of moments within those precious weeks.

Each shared glance carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, creating a silent dialogue that only the two of you understood. Every burst of laughter echoed like a melody, resonating with joy and warmth that filled the spaces between you. The conversations you shared, whether deep and contemplative or light and whimsical, wove a rich tapestry of connection that seemed to transcend the mere passage of days.

It was as though time itself had bent and stretched to accommodate the depth of your interactions. The moments you spent together, whether walking hand in hand through sun-dappled streets or sharing quiet, emotionally intimate evenings under a canopy of stars, left you with the impression that you had journeyed through countless experiences together in just a short while. The intensity of your bond created a sense of timelessness, making each day feel like a chapter in a beautifully unfolding story.

The day dawned under the crisp, invigorating light of morning, painting the world in hues of possibility. Hyunjin stood eagerly by your front door, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and a smile that promised adventure. The air was charged with the excitement of a day uncharted, a journey waiting to unfold as you both boarded the train bound for the newly opened museum.

As the train carried you toward your destination, a sense of exhilaration grew, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. The cityscape blurred past, a fleeting backdrop to the conversation and laughter that filled the space between you. Upon arrival, the museum revealed itself as a grand sanctuary of artistry and history, its towering facade inviting you into a world where time seemed to stand still.

Stepping inside, you were enveloped by the cool, hushed atmosphere of the museum, a place where every corner promised discovery. The labyrinthine halls stretched out before you, each exhibit unfolding like a new chapter in your shared journey. Vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and ancient artifacts beckoned you closer, igniting lively discussions and thoughtful reflections. With every step, you meandered through galleries side by side, your connection deepening as you shared insights and marvels.

The experience felt timeless, an effortless immersion into a realm of creativity and wonder. You lost yourselves in the stories etched into each piece, the artistry that transcended the mundane and spoke directly to your souls. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each moment adding a brushstroke to the canvas of your day, painting a picture of shared exploration and discovery. In that museum, amidst the echoes of history and the whispers of creativity, you found not only a deeper understanding of the world but also of each other.

After immersing yourselves in the museum's artistic treasures, you both boarded the train once more, the thrill of the day still crackling in the air between you. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath you seemed to echo the excitement of the adventure that awaited. Your destination was your favorite restaurant, a cherished haven where comfort and familiarity wove seamlessly into the fabric of its ambiance.

Upon arrival, the restaurant greeted you with its warm, inviting glow. Soft light spilled from hanging fixtures, casting a gentle radiance over the rustic wooden tables and cushioned chairs. The scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread. As you settled into your seats, the meal became more than just sustenance; it transformed into a canvas for laughter and playful banter.

Each dish that arrived at your table seemed to serve as a catalyst for shared stories and inside jokes. The vibrant colors of the food mirrored the lively exchange between you, as conversations flowed effortlessly alongside bites of deliciously crafted dishes. The restaurant’s lively bustle provided a vibrant backdrop, its hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery blending into the symphony of your shared experience.

The meal, rich with flavor and affection, was more than a mere dining experience; it was an extension of the day's joy and companionship. With each course, you both found yourselves drawn closer, the savory dishes a tangible reflection of the deepening bond between you. As you enjoyed each bite, the connection you had forged earlier in the museum seemed to be solidified, the warmth of the food and the ambiance merging to create a perfect continuation of the day's adventures.

Adjacent to the restaurant stood a quaint psychic shop, its sign casting a gentle, ethereal glow that beckoned with an almost magnetic allure. The delicate, swirling script on the sign seemed to whisper promises of mysteries and hidden truths, igniting a spark of curiosity within both of you. Driven by a shared sense of adventure and intrigue, you decided to venture inside, stepping into a world that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The interior of the shop was a treasure trove of curiosities. Dimly lit by the soft flicker of candlelight, the space was adorned with richly embroidered tapestries and shelves brimming with intriguing artifacts. The air was tinged with the heady fragrance of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of old parchment and aromatic herbs. In the center of this enigmatic realm sat the psychic, her presence as compelling as the surroundings.

Her gaze was shrouded in an enigmatic aura as she performed the reading, her eyes glimmering with an inscrutable wisdom. As she declared with a knowing smile that you and Hyunjin were soulmates, her words seemed to reverberate with an almost palpable magic. The statement hung in the air like a delicate thread, weaving itself into the fabric of your shared experience.

The psychic’s cryptic smile was met with a blend of surprise and shyness on your faces. A soft blush crept across both your cheeks, accentuating the nervous laughter that bubbled up between you. Each of you cast furtive glances away, caught between a fluttering sense of embarrassment and an exhilarating hint of delight. The moment felt like a secret dance, a playful intimacy that hung between you, adding a layer of enchantment to the day. The encounter at the psychic shop became a cherished memory, a touch of magic that lingered like a sweet aftertaste, enriching the tapestry of your shared adventure.

As the evening unfurled, you both returned to the serene sanctuary of your cozy studio apartment. The tranquility of the space embraced you like a warm hug, with the soft, rhythmic purring of your cat—curled contentedly on the nightstand—embodying the essence of home’s simple pleasures. The room was gently illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting a soothing radiance that seemed to enhance the peaceful ambiance.

In this haven of calm, you set about preparing warm tea for both of you. The aroma of the brewing tea leaves mingled with the subtle scent of the evening, creating an olfactory embrace that complemented the warmth of the space. As you poured the steaming liquid into delicate cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain was a soft, melodious counterpoint to the quietude surrounding you.

The conversation that followed was a tender and intimate exchange, your voices barely rising above hushed whispers as you both savored the serene atmosphere of the moment. Each word shared was like a caress, adding to the richness of your connection. Cradling your tea cups in your hands, you both reveled in a profound sense of contentment, the day’s adventures seamlessly blending into the gentle comfort of your shared refuge.

The evening unfolded as a quiet yet significant culmination of laughter, connection, and deepening bonds. The day’s escapades, full of vivid experiences and cherished moments, seemed to melt into the soft, welcoming embrace of your studio. This tranquil conclusion transformed the day into a cherished memory, a treasured chapter that would linger tenderly in your hearts.

As the night wore on, the rain began to fall in a steady, soothing rhythm, each droplet creating a symphony of tranquility against the windows. The gentle patter of the rain became a serene backdrop to the evening's unfolding events, wrapping your world in a cocoon of calm. Within the comforting familiarity of your bedroom, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

You extended an invitation to Hyunjin, offering him a place beside you on the bed, a gesture that had become second nature over the short time you’ve been together. Yet tonight carried a different energy, a palpable shift that neither of you could ignore—evident in the way Hyunjin’s heavy eyes followed your every move. The ambiance was charged with an emerging affection, an electric undercurrent that seemed to hum softly in the space between you.

Each fleeting glance you shared was laden with unspoken emotions, eyes conveying what words could not. The subtle brush of skin against skin felt like sparks igniting a fire, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your quiet conversations, spoken in hushed tones, wove a delicate tapestry of words and sentiments, each one deepening the connection you felt.

In the stillness of your home, every moment seemed to heighten the sense of anticipation. The rain's gentle cadence matched the rhythm of your hearts, beating in sync as if to the same unspoken melody. The space between you felt charged, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to a deeper intimacy that was steadily approaching, its arrival inevitable and eagerly awaited.

The night continued to unfold in this gentle yet intense dance of emotions, the rain outside acting as a serenade to your evolving bond while you prepared your bed for the night. Each moment spent together was a testament to the growing affection that had blossomed between you, transforming the ordinary into something exquisitely profound. In that cozy sanctuary, under the spell of the night and the rain, you both felt the irresistible pull toward a connection that promised to be as enduring as the rhythmic rain itself.

The tension between you both thickened as you handed him a t-shirt he had intentionally left behind during a previous visit. The fabric of the shirt, worn soft and familiar, passed from your hands to his with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken significance. As soon as he grasped the shirt, a spark of unspoken urgency ignited between you. His lips met yours with a fervor that had been quietly simmering throughout the day, an electric connection that surged with the intensity of all the emotions you had harbored.

The kiss was a profound mingling of longing and desire, a tangible culmination of the feelings that had been building in the quiet spaces between you. It was as if the very essence of the day’s shared moments converged in this single, impassioned exchange. 

Even amidst this deep connection, an endearing awkwardness lingered in the air. As you both clumsily undressed each other, your movements were hesitant and unpracticed, yet brimming with sincerity. Nervous laughter bubbled up between you, a symphony of shared amusement that softened the intensity of the moment. Your hands fumbled gently, each touch a mix of tender care and uncoordinated eagerness, creating a dance of intimacy that was both innocent and heartfelt.

Your gaze remained locked on his dazed eyes, the unspoken emotions between you speaking volumes. Every brush of your fingers, every accidental graze, was charged with a sense of wonder and discovery. The garments fell away piece by piece, leaving you both in only your underwear, vulnerable and exposed yet completely at ease in each other's presence.

The path to the bed was a journey marked by stumbles and shared glances. Each step was a testament to the raw and unrefined nature of your intimacy, a beautiful reminder of the genuine connection you were forging. The nervous energy between you added a layer of charm to the moment, making each interaction feel even more precious.

As you finally reached the bed, the clumsy yet heartfelt nature of your movements only served to deepen the bond you were creating. The tender moments of hesitation and the bursts of laughter wove together, forming a tapestry of intimacy that was uniquely your own. In the gentle embrace of the night, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, you both discovered a profound sense of closeness that transcended the physical, creating a memory that would linger long after the night had ended.

This clumsy yet heartfelt interaction only added to the night's charm, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared experience. Every hesitant touch, each nervous laugh, became a delicate thread, binding you closer together. As he settled between your legs, the intimacy of the moment deepened, turning every interaction into a genuine and endearing part of your growing bond.

A breathy moan escapes your lips as Hyunjin's kisses trace a delicate path along your jaw, each touch igniting a spark of electricity. When he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver runs through you, heightening your senses. This reaction seemed to bolster his confidence, and with gentle yet assertive hands, he guided you to lay back on the bed.

As you sink into the soft embrace of the mattress, his mouth works its magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Each kiss, each caress is a jolt of pure electricity, making your heart race and your breath hitch. The intensity of his touch leaves you yearning for more, each moment an exquisite blend of anticipation and ecstasy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence. As he continues his descent, his mouth finds your hardened nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect symphony of pleasure that leaves you arching your back, pressing yourself against him.

In this intimate dance, every movement feels deliberate and profound, each touch a testament to the deep connection you share. The room around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own creation, where time stands still and nothing exists except the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined.

His kisses, like whispers of fire, trail across your skin, igniting every nerve ending with a burning desire. The magic of his mouth, the gentle yet insistent way he explores your body, leaves you trembling with need. Every breathy moan, every gasp of pleasure, becomes a part of this beautiful symphony, resonating in the quiet sanctuary of your shared space.

Your hands find the courage to wander, fingers trembling with anticipation as they begin their exploration. Every touch is an act of reverence, a slow and deliberate journey to memorize the curves and contours of his lean body. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

As your hands glide over his torso, you savor the feeling of his defined muscles, each movement a tactile symphony. Your fingertips dance over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs before drifting down to his abs. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch is mesmerizing, drawing you deeper into the intimate connection you share.

When your hands finally reach his abs, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sculpted firmness beneath your palms. The tension in his muscles, the way they contract and relax with each breath, is a testament to his strength and beauty. Your touch becomes more deliberate, a silent communication of desire and admiration.

As you move lower, your fingers find his hardened core, and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The sound is intoxicating, a blend of need and pleasure that fuels your own arousal. He pushes his hips into your hand eagerly, a wordless plea for more, and you can't help but chuckle lightly at his neediness. There's something incredibly endearing about the way he responds to your touch, a vulnerability that makes him even more irresistible.

His groan resonates in the quiet room, mingling with the rhythm of your shared breaths. The intensity of his reaction sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of power and tenderness. As your hand continues to caress him, you revel in the connection between you, the unspoken language of touch and desire that binds you together.

The moment stretches into eternity, every touch, every sound, deepening the bond you share. The intimacy of your exploration, the way your hands map the landscape of his body, becomes a testament to the growing love between you. In this private sanctuary, you find a profound sense of fulfillment, a beautiful merging of souls that transcends the physical and touches the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for so long to have this moment with you,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of your shared breath. His words hang in the air, delicate and poignant, carrying the weight of anticipation and longing. You can see the depth of his emotions reflected in his eyes, a swirling sea of vulnerability and desire that makes your heart ache with a tender ache. The sincerity in his voice, the quiet urgency, speaks volumes about the unspoken yearning that has built up between you.

His words touched you deeply, a wave of emotion washing over you as you absorbed the sincerity in his voice. With a soft, reassuring smile, your hands left his already leaking length, the warmth of his arousal lingering on your fingertips. You reached up, fingers threading through his long, silken hair, feeling its softness and reveling in the intimacy of the gesture.

"Don’t ever apologize, Hyune," you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. "You’re being wonderful."

Your fingers continued their gentle journey through his hair, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to convey all the emotions you felt. His hair, smooth and luxurious, slipped through your fingers like strands of midnight silk, and you marveled at the way it framed his face, accentuating the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

The two of you lingered in a realm of shared kisses, each one deepening the connection that pulsed between you. What began as gentle explorations quickly evolved into a deliciously messy entanglement of lips and tongues, leaving both of you breathless. Droplets of shared saliva glistened on your mouths, a testament to the fervor with which you embraced each other. Every time your needy cores met, grinding against the thin barrier of fabric that still separated you, a gasp escaped your lips, mingling with his in a symphony of desire.

The friction, though clothed, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited, a mere glimpse of the pleasure that loomed on the horizon. Each grind, each press of your bodies, sent waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins at an intoxicating speed. It was an addictive rush, leaving you craving more—more of him, more of the sensations that set your skin aflame and made your heart race.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity of heated kisses and desperate touches. Your hands roamed freely, memorizing the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, and committing every inch of him to memory. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion—breathy moans, whispered names, and the rhythmic beat of two hearts caught in the throes of desire.

It wasn't long before the intensity of your need became almost unbearable. A soft, desperate whine escaped your lips, a sound that conveyed your longing and frustration. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, a testament to how thoroughly he had aroused you. Your body ached with a deep, insistent need, practically begging him for more.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desire, and you looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Hyunjin's gaze darkened with a mixture of lust and affection, his breath hitching at the sight of you so vulnerable, so open. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was both a promise and a reassurance, a silent vow that he would give you everything you craved.

As he pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your core.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his hands slid down your body, his touch igniting a trail of fire along your skin. The anticipation built with every second, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Each brush of his fingers, each lingering touch, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited. You arched into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure.

His fingers danced tantalizingly close to your drenched core, skimming over the slick heat but avoiding the sensitive places where you needed him most. The tease was exquisite yet maddening, each near-touch sending shivers of both pleasure and frustration through your body. You could feel the dampness of sweat on your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Mildly frustrated, a soft whimper escaped your lips as you reached down between your intertwined bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to where you craved his touch. The movement was driven by a mix of urgency and desperation, a silent plea for him to end the sweet torture.

He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, the sound a blend of amusement and affection that reverberated through your chest. The gentle tease in his voice only heightened your desire, making you acutely aware of how much you wanted—needed—him. Despite his amusement, he didn't leave you waiting for long.

His thumb found your clit, the touch electric and precise, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A gasp left your lips, the sensation intense and immediate. Without warning, his index finger slipped inside you, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion made you yelp in surprise, your body arching into his touch as a wave of heat surged through you.

He quickly glanced up, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and passion. The thrusts into your core halted, yet he kept his fingers buried deep inside, the sensation still pulsing through you. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a husky whisper that mingled with the heavy breaths filling the room.

You licked your lips, a slow and deliberate motion, trying to gather your composure amidst the swirling intensity. Your chest rose and fell with each pant, the air thick with anticipation and desire. You nodded, the movement gentle but assured, your body trembling slightly as you held back the urge to grind into his hand. "Yes... just please go slow when you're down there," you whispered, your voice tinged with a blend of need and vulnerability.

His eyes softened at your words, a tender smile curling at the corners of his lips. The connection between you felt almost palpable, a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded in response, his fingers beginning to move once more, but this time with a deliberate slowness that made every touch more intense.

Each movement was a study in restraint, his fingers exploring you with a gentleness that contrasted with the earlier urgency. The deliberate pace allowed you to savor every sensation, the pleasure building in slow, delicious waves. Your body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him delve deeper.

He watched you closely, his gaze unwavering, the concern in his eyes gradually giving way to a renewed desire. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, a cocoon of shared trust and passion. His other hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he continued his slow, measured rhythm.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the earlier frenzy giving way to a tender, almost reverent exploration. Your breaths synchronize, each inhale and exhale a testament to the deep connection that had formed between you. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that sent shivers down your spine, drawing out gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As he moved, his thumb brushed against your clit with a featherlight touch, sending sparks of electricity through your entire being. The slow pace allowed the pleasure to build gradually, each wave cresting higher than the last. Your hands reached out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations.

He responded to your touch, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, every sensation magnified in the cocoon of intimacy you had created. The taste of him, the feel of his fingers, the sound of your mingled breaths—it all wove together into a symphony of pleasure.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, a slow burn that promised an explosive release. The deliberate pace made every touch, every caress, more poignant, the anticipation heightening your arousal. Your body arched into his touch, a silent plea for more, for everything he could give.

His fingers moved with a steady, unerring rhythm, guiding you towards the edge with a skill that made your heart race. The slow, deliberate thrusts were interspersed with gentle caresses, the combination driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your moans grew louder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a final, deliberate thrust, the tension within you snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small space, your vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure sensation.

He held you through it all, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure. The aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you breathless and sated. As the intensity faded, you clung to him, your body still humming with the remnants of ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the room was filled with a quiet, almost sacred, stillness. You looked up at him, your heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that this moment was one of many that you would cherish. The night was a tapestry of shared passion and deep connection, a journey that had only just begun.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

can i request a fwb with hyunjin x male reader? love your stuff 💕💕💕

Hey babe! Your request has been posted! Thank you so much for the support, it was so fun to write! Also, a little side-note: this piece contains agoraphilia, which was not a part of the initial request, but I hope you don't mind it! If you do, please feel free to send me another request and I'll try again! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 🍿

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 3.2k

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ In the hushed shadows of an empty cinema, you and Hyunjin find yourselves doing anything except watch the film.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + male reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 12 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! It was especially fun to explore the agoraphilia kink and it might or might not have awakened something in me, sorry not sorry. Requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, FWB trope, agoraphilia (the kink related to having sex in a public space), handjob, blowjob, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The large screen cast a solitary glow in the otherwise dark and empty cinema room, its flickering light the only beacon amidst the shadows. The film, having premiered only a week ago, played out its animated scenes, but your attention was never captured by the vibrant characters or the lively plot. It was the heart of the week, the sun hanging high in the sky outside, and the cinema was hushed in a midday silence. The movie, a colorful tapestry of whimsy designed for children's delight, had been carefully selected by Hyunjin as part of a deliberate plan.

He knew that a matinee showing of a children's film would ensure privacy, a quiet refuge from the bustling world outside. The choice spoke volumes of his thoughtfulness, a gesture meant to cocoon you both in a rare moment of undisturbed togetherness. The dim ambiance and the occasional laughter from the screen seemed distant, like echoes in a cavern, as the true magic unfolded in the space between your entwined fingers and shared, whispered words.

His hand rested with a gentle weight on your upper thigh, a touch that felt both grounding and electric. Though his gaze appeared firmly fixed on the screen ahead, you could sense the unspoken intentions behind his seemingly casual posture. His fingers, warm and slightly calloused, felt like they were weaving a spell of anticipation and desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him inch just a fraction closer to your already eager core, a subtle yet powerful movement that sent ripples of longing through your body. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the flickering light from the screen casting playful shadows across his face. His smirk, a tantalizing curve at the corners of his lips, told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. It was a dance of silent communication, a game of tension and teasing that left you breathless and wanting more.

The room seemed to shrink, the outside world fading into oblivion as every fiber of your being focused on the closeness of his touch and the promise of what it held. The distant sounds of the film became a mere backdrop to the intimate symphony of your shared moment, each second stretched out, dripping with delicious anticipation. His smirk deepened as he felt your reaction, a silent victory that only fueled the fire between you both.

It wasn’t long before Hyunjin’s hand found its way to the apex of your thighs, pressing firmly against your clothed core. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, and suddenly breathing felt like a conscious effort rather than a natural reflex. Each inhalation was shallow, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm dictated by his tantalizing touch.

Your hands clung to the armrests of your seat, knuckles white with the force of your grip, as your body involuntarily arched and buckled against his hand. The need for more, for deeper contact, pulsed through you, a throbbing ache that begged for release. Hyunjin, sensing your desperation, was unreserved in his approach, his fingers moving with practiced skill as they massaged your length through the fabric of your jeans.

The roughness of the denim contrasted deliciously with the tenderness of his caress, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, a fire stoked by his every motion. From the corner of your eye, you glimpsed the outline of his own arousal, straining against the confines of his pants. The sight sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, feeding your ego and heightening the intensity of the moment.

In the dim, secluded theater, with only the flickering light of the screen to witness your secret encounter, the world outside ceased to exist. Each touch, each whisper of movement, was magnified in the hushed silence. Hyunjin’s breath, warm and shallow, mingled with yours, creating a private symphony of shared desire. His eyes, dark and intense, flickered with a mix of mischief and ardor, reflecting the storm of emotions that raged within you both.

There was never any kissing between the two of you, no trace of affection mingled with the deeply intimate actions that had become your shared ritual. Lips never met in tender embrace, and there were no soft whispers of endearment. Instead, the connection you forged was raw and elemental, stripped of the frills of romance. Behind closed doors and within the shadows of dimly lit rooms, you found a thrilling liberation in the mutual use of each other’s bodies. Each encounter was a secret symphony of touch and sensation, free from the constraints of emotional entanglement.

The exhilaration of this clandestine arrangement was a heady intoxication, a rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins each and every time. The absence of romantic gestures and the lack of emotional responsibility created a unique and intoxicating blend of freedom and anticipation. You both existed in a world where the only currency was the explicit pleasure you pursued together, a hedonistic exchange that left no room for the complexities of caring beyond the immediate moment.

This arrangement, devoid of conventional intimacy, was pure bliss—a potent addiction that occupied your thoughts through every waking moment. The craving for these encounters became an ever-present undercurrent in your daily life, a hunger that only grew stronger with each rendezvous. The physical connection, unburdened by the expectations of love or the weight of emotional commitment, was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you could lose yourselves in the primal joy of unrestrained passion.

Each touch, each breathless moment, was a testament to the unique bond you shared—one that thrived in the dark, away from the scrutinizing eyes of the world. The thrill of secrecy, the raw, unfiltered pleasure, was an addiction that neither of you could resist. It was a dance of shadows and light, a tantalizing game that blurred the lines between reality and desire, leaving you both perpetually yearning for the next encounter.

Growing weary of the languid touches that teased more than satisfied, you decided to seize control from Hyunjin. Your fingers, light and teasing, trailed a deliberate path up to his painfully hard arousal. The unexpected contact elicited a raw, unguarded moan from his plump lips, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and irritation. Yet, his glare only made you chuckle softly, a sound that vibrated with quiet confidence and amusement.

Determined to unravel him with your touch, you felt a rising tide of desperation to see him surrender. Your movements became more purposeful, almost urgent, as you deftly tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to liberate his beautiful, aching member. The sight of him laid bare before you sent a thrill through your veins, your own need intensifying at the vision of his vulnerability.

Hyunjin sighed in relief, the tension momentarily ebbing away, only to be replaced by a darker, more intense gaze. His eyes, heavy with desire, watched as you surveyed the dimly lit cinema room, ensuring your clandestine encounter remained undisturbed. Satisfied that you were alone, you slowly sank to your knees between his legs, the anticipation of what was to come heightening the electricity in the air.

The dim glow of the screen cast ethereal shadows over your form, accentuating the intimate tableau you created together. Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent acknowledgment of your shared hunger and the shifting power dynamic. As you positioned yourself, the world outside the darkened room ceased to exist, leaving only the palpable tension and the promise of exquisite release.

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each exhalation a testament to his struggle to maintain composure. Your hands, now steady and confident, moved with a precision born of intimate knowledge, eager to draw out every shiver and gasp. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered need, created a cocoon around you both, a sanctuary of desire where every touch, every glance, spoke volumes.

Hyunjin’s quiet moans filled the space, mingling with the distant sounds of the film, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed in the secluded darkness. Your control, your neediness, intertwined seamlessly, crafting a moment of pure, unadulterated passion that left both of you breathless and yearning for more.

Hyunjin was already leaking, a tantalizing sight that made your mouth water with anticipation. The glistening evidence of his arousal only spurred you on, your desire mounting with every passing second. You wrapped your fingers around his throbbing length, feeling the heat and the pulse beneath your touch. Slowly, deliberately, you began to stroke him, each movement measured to draw out his pleasure.

As your hand moved, Hyunjin’s reaction was immediate and intense. He threw his head back, his face a portrait of pure ecstasy. His mouth fell open, a silent cry of pleasure escaping his parted lips, and his eyes squeezed shut as waves of sensation washed over him. The sight of him, so undone by your touch, bolstered your confidence, fueling the fire of your own arousal.

With a surge of boldness, you finally took him into your mouth, the familiar taste and texture igniting a spark within you. You fought to suppress a moan, the urge to vocalize your pleasure nearly overwhelming. The sensation of him filling your mouth, the weight and warmth of him, was intoxicating. You reveled in the control, in the power you wielded over his pleasure.

Hyunjin’s response was visceral. He hissed through clenched teeth, his head snapping forward to watch you. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with a mix of surprise and unrestrained desire. His brows furrowed, the tension etched across his features, but his jaw remained slack, a testament to his struggle to contain his sounds. The effort to maintain some semblance of control was evident, yet you could see him teetering on the edge, each moment threatening to push him over.

Your movements were slow, deliberate, savoring the taste of him and the way his body responded to your ministrations. The flickering light from the screen played across his face, highlighting the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his lips trembled with every suppressed sound. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, created a heady atmosphere that wrapped around you both.

Every subtle shift of his hips, every strangled breath, fed your own desire. The rhythm you established, the ebb and flow of pleasure, was a dance you both knew well. The darkened cinema room, the backdrop of the distant film, became a world unto itself, where the only reality was the shared ecstasy and the bond forged in the heat of passion.

With each stroke, each gentle suction, you brought him closer to the edge, the anticipation building between you. Hyunjin’s gaze never wavered, locked onto you with a mixture of awe and desperation. The connection, so deeply physical, was underscored by the unspoken understanding that this moment, this exchange of pleasure, was something sacred and profoundly intimate.

It was almost uncanny to experience Hyunjin’s unusual silence. You had grown so accustomed to the symphony of his voice, the way he filled intimate moments with his melodic praises and unrestrained moans. His words, often slurred by the intoxicating waves of pleasure, were a chorus of erotic melodies that resonated deep within you, igniting your own desires. The quiet now was both a stark contrast and a thrilling challenge, a testament to his struggle to maintain control.

Yet, even in his silence, the intensity of his need was unmistakable. His normally expressive self found new ways to convey his desperation, his fingers tangling in your hair with a grip that spoke volumes. The usually tender touch now firm and commanding, guiding your head in a rhythm that matched his urgent desires. The sensation of his fingers fisting your hair, each tug a silent plea for more, sent shivers down your spine.

Hyunjin’s hips began to move with a mind of their own, thrusting to meet the rhythm you established. Each upward motion synchronized with the downward movement of your mouth, creating a perfect harmony of motion and sensation. His normally vocal nature was replaced by a more physical expression of his need, every thrust a wordless cry of pleasure. The quiet, punctuated only by the sound of your movements and his ragged breaths, created an atmosphere thick with unspoken longing.

The flickering light from the screen danced across his face, highlighting the tautness of his jaw and the fire in his eyes. The restraint he showed, the effort to maintain some semblance of composure, made the moment even more electrifying. His usual clinginess, now intensified, was a physical manifestation of his pleasure, his body seeking yours with an almost desperate fervor.

As you moved together, the dance of your intimacy became a testament to your deep connection. Each motion, each shared breath, wove a tapestry of desire that wrapped around you both. The darkened cinema room, once a simple backdrop, now felt like a secret world where only the two of you existed, bound by the intensity of your shared experience.

Hyunjin’s control wavered with each passing second, the struggle evident in the way his body tensed and relaxed in quick succession. The quiet was a fragile thing, threatened by the rising tide of his pleasure. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours, communicating volumes without a single word. The normally eloquent Hyunjin was now a creature of pure sensation, his need for you transcending language.

Every movement, every touch, was a symphony of silent communication, an intricate dance of desire and control. As you continued, the thrill of his intensified clinginess and the unusual quiet created a heady mix, a potent blend of intimacy that left you both breathless and yearning for more.

Your free hand moved to caress his balls, the delicate yet firm touch sending jolts of intensified pleasure through Hyunjin’s already electrified body. The effect was immediate and profound; his actions became increasingly erratic, a beautiful chaos of movement that reflected the storm of sensations you were conjuring within him. His face, a canvas of raw emotion, scrunched up gorgeously in response, each twitch and contortion a testament to the bliss you were eliciting.

As the tension mounted, he leaned forward, his need to be closer to you overwhelming his senses. His movements pushed your nose against his pelvis, the intimacy of the action driving both of you to new heights of arousal. You could feel his release building, a palpable tension that seemed to vibrate through his entire body.

When he finally reached the peak of his pleasure, you felt the hot, thick rush of his release spill down your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, filling your mouth to the point of gagging. The fullness was both a challenge and a thrill, a testament to the depth of your connection and the intensity of the moment. You struggled to breathe, the sheer volume of him making it difficult, but you relished every second of it.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s iron grip on you relaxed, his fingers loosening their hold on your hair. You pulled back, gasping for air, the sudden rush of oxygen a stark contrast to the suffocating fullness you’d just experienced. The cool air on your face and the lingering taste of him in your mouth created a heady mix of sensations that left you reeling.

Hyunjin’s gaze softened, the fierce intensity giving way to a tender vulnerability. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he’d just experienced. You could see the gratitude and the residual pleasure in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared.

The dim light of the cinema cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the lingering flush of arousal on his cheeks. The room, once a simple setting, now felt like a sacred space where the boundaries between you had dissolved. Every detail, from the softness of his touch to the taste of his release, was etched into your memory, creating a moment that was both ephemeral and eternal.

As you both recovered, the world outside seemed distant and unimportant. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, had created a bubble of reality where only the two of you existed. The echoes of pleasure and the warmth of your shared experience lingered in the air, a promise of more moments like this to come.

Just like that, you returned to your seat, slipping back into the plush cushion as if nothing extraordinary had transpired. With a composed air, you swallowed the lingering evidence of your intimate adventure, the remnants of Hyunjin’s release settling deep within you. The calm facade you wore was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had just raged between you.

Beside you, Hyunjin was utterly spent, his chest rising and falling in an effort to catch his breath. His skin glistened faintly under the dim cinema lights, a sheen of sweat marking the intensity of your shared moment. His eyes, still glazed with the remnants of pleasure, never left your figure. The way you appeared so nonchalant, so composed, despite the passionate exchange that had just unfolded, captivated him.

Your core throbbed with a dull, insistent ache, a testament to the desire that still simmered within you. The anticipation of what was to come made it difficult to focus on anything else. You shifted slightly in your seat, the ache intensifying with every subtle movement, a constant reminder of the unfinished business between you.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on you, a silent promise of continued pleasure hanging in the air. The unspoken understanding that the fun was far from over added an electric tension to the room. The film continued to play, its plot a distant murmur, overshadowed by the anticipation of what awaited you both once the credits rolled.

As you both sat in the dim light, the world outside the cinema seemed to fade away. The mundane reality of your surroundings contrasted sharply with the charged intimacy you shared. The darkened room, filled with the flickering glow of the screen, became a private haven where your desires could roam free, undisturbed by the outside world.

Hyunjin’s fingers twitched slightly, a subtle indication of his renewed interest. The thought of continuing your escapade in the confines of the car sent a thrill through you, your body responding eagerly to the prospect. The anticipation built steadily, each passing moment bringing you closer to the next chapter of your passionate adventure.

The film’s soundtrack provided a background score to your thoughts, each swell of music mirroring the rising tension between you. Your composure remained intact, but beneath the surface, a tempest of desire brewed, ready to be unleashed once more. Hyunjin’s presence, his proximity, only added fuel to the fire, making the wait both torturous and deliciously exciting.

In that shared silence, the air thick with unsaid words and unmet needs, you both found solace. The bond forged in those stolen moments of pleasure was a testament to the depth of your connection. The promise of what was to come loomed large, a tantalizing prospect that kept you both on the edge, eagerly awaiting the privacy of the car where your desires could be fully realized.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

this felt like reading a long poem about experiencing the intensities of love, yet having the strength and will to choose yourself first and i loved every minute of it.

Visions of You in Solitude

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

W/c: 26.5k

Warnings: erotic painting, mentions of masturbation, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), breast/nipple play, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (fem receiving), cum eating, use of pet names, drinking

Synopsis: You were hired to paint him- not fall for him. But intentions quickly shift when Hyunjin finds himself infatuated with you and learns the secrets you harbor.

[this work was based off a request by “🐼” anon - thank you for requesting!]

18+. Mdni!

•

There’s something to be said about the loneliness that comes with being an artist. The repetitive cycle of translating tangibility to canvas or paper in whichever chosen medium. Fleeting muses you draw inspiration from, which quickly become burdensome as you’re faced with them every waking second of your day. Obsession with perfecting your craft, the anxieties that come with criticism of your life’s work and sometimes even succumbing to changing it entirely at the hands of someone else’s advice.

It’s very seldom even your craft at a certain point, only existing to satisfy the visual demands of others and turn a profit when displayed at a show. And it’s certainly not for everyone, not when it’s this lonely and rooted in the discomfort of personal solitude.

*

From this proximity, the blinding white walls that span the perimeter of the waiting room feel like that of a prison’s- coupled with the glossy laminate flooring and glaring white lights, you feel completely entrapped.

“They’re almost ready for you,” your boss says abruptly as he enters the room and occupies the gray folding chair next to you. “You have everything you need?”

Headcount- your black leather briefcase of oil paints, brushes, charcoal, pencils, paint thinner, old rags and your painting palette.

“The canvas is already set up,” your boss chimes in as if he can read your mind. “And there’s a seat for you. Just relax, and don’t push yourself.”

You take a deep breath, doing your best to follow his advice- but a part of you wants to get up and leave, to run away from all of this. Painting is your passion, it’s your forte and it’s been your life’s work for as long as you can remember. But being commissioned like this, for men much richer than money you’ll ever see, it feels suffocating.

They don’t tell you their names these days, nor the name of whatever organization they’re from. Last month it was an elite group of stock investors, the month before, it was a famous violinist from Japan. And today, it’s a male group, eight members with net worths that look like telephone numbers, or so you’ve been told. And it’s not that you’re intimidated, but you do get self-conscious at the prospect of people watching you while you paint. At some point, it’s like you become the model, their eyes boring into your flesh as you paint long strokes across the canvas and order them to hold still.

“Five minutes,” your boss now says, checking the time on his silver watch and adjusting it so that it sits a little higher up on his wrist.

You wish he wouldn’t count the minutes. You wish he’d stay quiet, allow you to sit with your thoughts and ruminate the day ahead of you. And yet he taps his heel in syncopation with the second hand on the clock above you, the echoing click of both driving you up the wall.

“I need a breather,” you state suddenly, sitting up from your chair and smoothing down your smock. “I need to go outside.”

“Three minutes,” he responds sterly, tapping at the glass lens of his watch and motioning to the door.

You shove your way past the double doors, past the white tiled hallway and just in front of the double doors that lead to freedom again. Two minutes.

It’s like your body is giving out on you involuntarily, your knees buckling as you grip the stair railing and steady your breathing. A quick glance around to ensure no one’s caught you heaving so nervously- and you’re too late. A man saunters down the hallway past you, his hands shoved casually in his pockets as he cocks his head to stare at you, his long black hair falling loosely around his shoulders as he does. He’s tall, and slim, with an elongated torso hugged by an expensive denim coat, his slender legs on display in black slacks and complemented by a sharp pair of boots. You don’t catch a very good look at his face, his figure blurring by as you check your watch, to the second now- you’re supposed to be inside.

You waste no more time jogging down the hallway past the figure and back into the waiting room, where your boss is angrily tapping his heel and scanning the room for you.

“There you are,” he says frustratedly. “No more breaks if you can’t manage your time. They’re waiting for us.”

And with a deep breath, he helps you gather your art supplies, motioning in front of you to the brightly lit room. You take one breath, and then two, as you finally begin into the painting room, eight men already seated and ready for you.

*

The crowd is nothing like the stock investors, or the violinists you’re used to. They’re rowdy, and loud. They very seldom sit still, cracking jokes amongst themselves and shoving each other off the wooden stools every other minute. You do your best to keep your gaze away from them when you don’t need to look at them, trying to memorize their features in intervals so you can focus on just the canvas in front of you as you paint. But it’s nearly impossible, their melodic voices pressing you for answers and insights into your artist career.

“What’s the hardest painting you’ve ever done?” One asks, his baritone voice sounding almost startling in contrast to his bright appearance.

“There’s lots,” you reply quietly. “I’m not sure I can pick one.”

You give him a small smile, trying to memorize the freckles on his face before turning back to the canvas, hoping you won’t have to glance back over at him for the next minute or so.

“Let’s take five,” your boss says as he enters the room again, two iced coffees balanced in his hands. “Thanks, guys.”

And the men scatter to their break room, where neat trays of food are already set out for them to choose from. As the doors swing closed behind them, you watch them select from a variety of pre-cooked noodles, assorted fruits and vegetables, packs of chips and trays upon trays of desserts. They’re fed as though they’re the ones doing all the painting.

“Coffee,” Q says, setting down a plastic cup in front of you, the straw already conveniently placed for you.

“Thanks, Quinton.”

Your boss, Quinton, or Q, is a brutally honest man when he wants to be, quick to comment on your work and keep you in your place. He runs your calendar like the military, never missing an important appointment and opting you in for every profitable painting session possible. He’s another thing you find suffocating at the worst of times, always somewhere breathing commands down your neck and dragging you to every private event under the sun.

“Let me see,” Q states plainly, gesturing to the canvas with his cup of coffee. You shyly angle the canvas toward him, hoping he won’t scrutinize anything about your pacing- you’re trying to get out of here as quickly as possible, and you silently pray the art doesn’t reflect that sentiment.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t, swiping a few stray eraser shavings off the canvas and giving you a nod.

“Looks good. Remember, we just need the skin tones and facial features. The clothes and all that can be filled in later with our reference pictures.”

You nod in response, taking a generous sip of your coffee, realizing this is probably the worst beverage you could’ve picked to calm your nerves. The caffeine pulsates through you, making your heart flutter even more than it already is, and the bitter taste leaves little to salivate over.

“How much longer, do you think?” You inquire, chewing on the tip of your straw nervously.

“No more than an hour, if you keep up this pace,” Q responds. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick, have everything ready again for when I get back. Don’t make me wait.”

You watch as he gets up from his own wooden stool, placing his cup of coffee where he sits, and exits the room to the corridor once again.

You’re alone in the painting room, the white sheets that line the floors staring back at you with little eyes in the form of paint splotches. From behind the door, you can still hear the eight men shuffling about, laughing loudly and downing their snacks. And you want to leave again, the feeling instilling another sense of foreignness inside of you. Like you don’t belong here, even though you’re the painter. You feel small, cramped, even useless, as you stare down the painted flesh outlines across from you.

A click of the door closing beside you garners your attention, and you look up expecting Q to return and resume the session. But it’s not Q- it’s the same figure from earlier in the hallway, slowly making his way inside and hoisting himself back up on the wooden stool. He keeps his head down as he gets comfortable again, two hands running through his black hair and slicking it back out of his forehead.

And then he looks at you- or stares, rather, two hands resting on the exposed wood in front of him as his legs balance on the wooden beams below. You can feel his eyes burning into your figure, and you do everything in your power to avert his gaze and keep your eyes locked on the canvas in front of you. But he remains like that, staring, for several minutes, until you nervously tilt your head to catch his gaze.

You feel your heart race as you do, catching a glimpse of his flawless features as he furrows his brows in concentration. His silky black hair isn’t the only striking thing about him- he has piercing brown eyes, which narrow with such intensity as he remains seated there, unmoving and confident in his stance. His plump lips contrast beautifully against his chiseled jawline, and his lanky figure makes him look like the contemporary art statues you’re so acquainted with, like he’s formed from wire and positioned to slouch so artistically in his spot.

You say nothing to the man, opting to give him a little nod, before focusing back on the beverage in your hands. And despite his clear fascination with you, he doesn’t reciprocate, instead pulling a cell phone out of his back pocket and preoccupying himself again.

You can’t quite tell if he’s rude, or strange, or even just unaware that his presence is so uncomfortable when he’s choosing to speak through cold stares instead of words. As you watch him through your peripheral vision, you hear the familiar sound of Q’s boots click through the doorway, gesturing rapidly at you and at the canvas.

“Let’s continue,” he orders, clasping his hands together with such purpose. “Where are they?” Q then questions, his eyes darting over the quiet man’s indifferent posture. And the strange man finally gets up from his stool, making his way through the break room door to usher the others inside once again.

They follow like a row of ducks, back to their respective seats, some of them with drinks in hand as they share whispered laughter amongst themselves and make little effort to sit still. You have no trouble picking up right where you left off, the innate talent to mirror figures in front of you coming in handy as you race the clock to complete their flesh-colored outlines.

Most of them converse lightly amongst each other, holding your gaze with a more serious expression when they catch you looking over at them.

Except for the strange man.

He’s relentless in his ways, continuing to stare so impolitely at you, his eyes piercing daggers right through your soul as he cocks his head to the left, and then the right, studying your face as you study all eight of theirs. What his intentions are exactly, you have no clue, simply opting to avert his gaze when you can and keep busy with your painting.

One hour later, the canvas illustrates all eight outlines of flesh and distinctive features, highlighting the beige freckles on one man’s, the toned biceps of another, and all other features that set them apart from each other. True to Q’s reminder, their clothes are traced in outlines, but color is void of their stencils, as you still have to bring the canvas home to complete the finishing touches. When they’re dismissed for the day, the gentlemen are all led by a sculpted man with a big smile who introduces himself as the leader, orchestrating the bows and applause that are held for you.

And as he ushers them out one by one, the strange man who’s been watching you all day is the last to leave, lingering a little bit too long with his hands shoved in his pockets like he wants to say something. He loiters by the canvas for several minutes, but you make no move to angle the painting at him, usually maintaining a certain extent of confidentiality in your work to keep the surprise.

He seems to take the hint, almost nodding indirectly at you and more toward the wall, as he finally saunters out of the room with his hands still in his pockets, his strides painfully slow as he disappears from your sight.

And when you look back to the painting, you cock your head at his outline, trying to gauge whether your art properly captures the sheer sense of unnerve he instills in you with his features alone.

*

Painting sessions are burdensome. They require a lot of planning ahead of time, stocking up on supplies, scheduling around the hours-long timeframe and of course, the mental preparation of having to be stared at by rich men for several hours.

But perhaps critique sessions are even worse these days.

Your paintings are typically set in stone after the initial outlines, considering there are usually a few important figures who review your work and give you the go ahead to take it home and finish it.

Yet sometimes, you still have people complaining, pointing out unimportant features like the color of their sneakers which aren’t to their liking. It’s normally Q who fights these battles for you, refusing to allow you to make any changes since the payments are made upfront, too. But sometimes, even he caves, ordering you to pull out your briefcase and mix a darker shade of green or add more volume to the subject’s hair.

It’s the worst with investors, who put their audacity at the same level as their incomes. But with boy groups like this, you’re unsure, having never done a painting for a band prior to this one.

The finished canvas is transported in a nylon zip-up bag, held by yourself and Q as you fit it inside the truck and secure it with metal prongs. While the drive there is just an hour long, it feels much longer than the last time you traveled there, perhaps because you’re much more nervous.

And perhaps also, it’s because of the same strange man as last time, who you already know is going to have a mouthful to say. The way he lingered by your work station a little too long, wouldn’t stop staring and even excused himself from his own break early to resume his insufferable task of making you uncomfortable. You reckon it’ll be a comment about his hair, asking for a longer length or more volume. Maybe something about the stage outfit you were presented with and how it doesn’t make his legs look long enough. Or knowing his douchebag tendencies, maybe he won’t hesitate to ask for a fucking bulge in his pants at this point.

When you arrive, Q calls over the building staff to help transport the collosal work of art, while you wait awkwardly on the side with your hands shoved in your pockets. You take a moment to crane your neck and look up at the building, a tall glass monument with blue-tinted windows and cobalt text that displays the company name. It’s just as intimidating as you remembered it, instilling the same unnerving feeling that a hospital might.

When the building staff are finally making their way inside, you follow reluctantly, making yourself as small as possible behind them while they navigate the long blinding corridors. It’s an unusual feeling to be at the top floor of the building that you were just looking up at from the street below, and as you pass the windows that line the hallways, you can make out the rows of cars and people that now resemble ants from this high up. It’s as though you were never down there to begin with, like the world is different from up here, much more secluded and shut-in.

And seeing the pin boards that line the walls, with photos of successful artists and flyers for company events, it very well might be, this haunting building where dreams either go to flourish or decay.

Into the last door on the right, eight chairs lined up for eight artists who definitely seem to have flourished. The building staff set up the canvas at the front of the room, securing it into its wooden easel, and Q occupies himself setting up a recording camera which points directly at the painting and captures all eight chairs in the frame. It’s common protocol for events like these to be filmed, not always for public consumption, but for the staff to archive important commemorative moments in the artist’s name. Once the camera is rolling, Q gives you a thumbs up, gesturing to the staff to permit their exit as you make your way to the front with him.

“Ready?” He asks, clasping his hands together as he eyes the camera nervously. You say nothing in response, giving him a small nod, before taking your spot on the other side of the canvas and folding your hands behind your back.

For a few moments of complete silence, the two of you keep your gazes fixed on the clock that lives on the wall across you, the hands ticking with the passing seconds as you await the arrival of the band. Q turns to say something, seemingly disregarding it as he turns back to the wall and shifts his eyes to the door every few moments.

You wish he wouldn’t be so… anticipatory. You wish he’d just stand there, like a rock, indicating nothing of importance, so that you could put less weight into this and unveil the painting to them without any reservations.

Here’s the painting, you want to say. It took me forever, so don’t criticize it. You guys are shorter than my usual subjects. Except for the weirdo- and he stares too much.

You smile to yourself at the thought of being so candid with them, before an abrupt push of the door startles you, and you instantly straighten your posture at the sounds of boots clicking along the floor, leading the eight men who live on the canvas behind you.

One by one they take their seats, dressed to the nines this time in black slacks and collared button ups. They even flaunt ties, mirroring the businessmen you’re used to painting, and the fancy attire quickly makes you nervous as they fold their hands in their laps and fail to joke around like they did the last time.

“Welcome,” a booming voice says, as other important looking figures stand around the room and eye the covered canvas. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, and we’re eager to see what you’ve come up with.”

Applause fills the room, inclusive of the members of the band, which you finally allow yourself to look at. They sit properly, hands folded in their laps and serious expressions painted on their chiseled faces.

Except for the strange one, again, whose gaze is locked on yours. He cocks an eyebrow curiously, as though you’re the one doing the staring. And you quickly turn your attention back to Q, hoping that disregarding the men will calm your nerves a little.

“… she’s paid particular attention to detail,” Q continues, and you realize you’ve missed half his speech already.

“And we are so excited to hang her work in this renowned building as a commemorative piece for the members. Without further ado, please let’s unveil the artwork.”

As he finishes, two members of the staff tug on the beige cloth, letting it fall to the tiled floor beneath it and expose the giant portrait.

Their faces light up instantly, little “woah’s” filling the room as they rise from their seats to take a better look. They laugh at their own figures, they point out each other's and most of them even pull out their cellphones to snap photos of your art. It’s always a gratifying feeling, having a crowd admire the fruits of your labor this way, especially when you aren’t immediately met with verbal protest against your creative choices.

You take a few steps back to give some room to them, the staff talking amongst themselves and gesturing to the building where you presume they speak about where the painting will live.

“It’s a hit,” Q says, coming around to tap you lightly on the arm. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Quinton,” you respond. “I’m glad everyone enjoys it.”

And the staff applaud you once more, bowing to you and lining up to shake your hand as they begin to file out of the room again.

The members stick around for a good while, unable to take their eyes off the painting as they point out each other's features and admire their own. And as they begin to leave, several of them thank you personally on the way out, giving you a bow and shaking your hand.

“Thank you, really,” the man you remember being the group leader says to you. “We are so honored to have worked on this with you.”

Another clasps your hand in his, bowing several times before speaking. “Seungmin,” he states his name politely. “Thank you, I think you really did our old group leader justice.”

“Hey!” The leader calls, and you can’t help but laugh a little in response.

The others share similar sentiments, bowing and shaking your hand as they exit, chatting excitedly amongst themselves as they make their way down the hall for their next schedule.

And when you turn to face Q, you’re met with the last member, who folds his arms in front of him coldly and eyes the painting with raised eyebrows.

Like clockwork. He doesn’t like it, he’s going to request a change be made to it and he’s going to berate you in front of your own boss.

“It’s nice,” he chimes in casually from where he’s standing.

“Thanks,” you reply, Q gathering the cover from the floor and zipping it up again.

“Just one thing,” he says now, turning to face you.

“Oh, we normally don’t make changes after-”

“I have a freckle under my eye,” he finishes. “The left eye. You didn’t catch it.”

Your eyes scan the painting, where his chiseled face and long hair stare back at you, a serious expression in his eyes like he wears in person. And then you glance at him standing in front of you again, a small brown mole under his left eye, just like he speaks of.

“Go ahead and add it,” Q says, as he zips up the cover. “That should be on there already.”

And you nod your head at both of them, unzipping your briefcase again to retrieve your paints. He’s watching you like a hawk again, towering over your bent figure as you pull out a thin tube of brown paint and squeeze just a miniscule dollop onto the back of your hand. You retrieve your thinnest paint brush, dipping it into the paint and swiping it across your skin to rid the excess from the fine hairs.

It feels as though you have to paint it with his permission, as you bring the brush to his face and glance over at him for instruction. He gestures to his eye, motioning for you to start, as you bring the brush to his canvas flesh and tap on a tiny, single dot.

He stares at it for a moment, cocking his head as though a brown dot somehow won’t be to his liking. And even Q holds his breath while he waits for a comment from the man. You begin to say something, your lips parting silently, stuck on what to remark as you await his feedback. And then with bated breath, he finally speaks, giving a small nod as he does.

“Good,” he says simply. “It’s me now.”

Q nods at him, nods at you, and then gathers your belongings as you cap the loose tube of paint.

“Do you have a card?” The man asks suddenly, and Q pauses his shuffling about to retrieve one from his coat pocket.

“Here’s her card,” he says, against your silent protests. “She’s available for commission any time. Payments are up front and scheduling is through me only.”

The man nods, thumbing the gold foil cardstock in his slender fingers, and then shoves it into the pocket of his slacks.

“Hyunjin,” he says curtly, reaching his hand out to yours. “I’m the main dancer.”

And you just nod, placing your hand in his reluctantly as you shake once.

“Y/n.”

His hands are cold to the touch, the metal of his rings feeling like blocks of ice in your grasp. He holds it there for a moment, his narrowed eyes shooting daggers into yours, before he finally pulls away and pivots to leave with the rest of the band.

And you can only catch a glimpse of the back of his head when he’s halfway out, before Q turns to speak to you.

“Looks like we may be back very soon,” he remarks, latching your briefcase once more. “I’d hold on to that brown paint if I were you.”

*

Exactly four days pass before you hear from Hyunjin again. In fact, you’ve all but forgotten about the little run-in, until Q barges into your studio while you add the finishing touches to another client’s piece.

“I have a proposal for you,” Q voices, setting an iced coffee on the table beside you while you dip your paintbrush in a muddy cup of water.

“What is it?”

“Well financially, a massive opportunity. Career-wise, much of the same thing you’re already doing.”

“Businessmen?” You question, working your paintbrush in thin strokes to add hair to the figure on the canvas.

“Band,” he replies simply. “The same band you did last week. Just one member, though.”

And you know instantly who he speaks of, your face contorting into an expression of disgust as you wash your paint in the cup of water once more.

“Hyunjin?” You query.

“That’s him,” he says, snapping his fingers as the name comes back to him. “He’s offering double what we paid last, and just for an individual piece. That’s a massive markup from what we usually charge.”

“I don’t know,” you reply hesitantly. “I’m pretty busy with this, and we-”

“I already said yes,” he states simply.

“You did? What- I thought this was a proposal.”

“Yeah,” he says with a scoff. “A proposal to get your stuff ready. We start tomorrow. And he wants you to bring every color you’ve got.”

“Tomorrow? Don’t we already have a prior commitment?”

“Already moved them out,” Q says, sitting on the chair across from you.

“Look,” he begins, sighing deeply. “I know you’re hesitant about these things. But this is the best move you can do, career-wise. Painting these famous figures is a gold mine for us. One day you could be commissioned to paint royalty, and then we’ll be reaping three times our salary.”

And you sigh, too, knowing very well that he’s right. Being a painter who gets commissioned to commemorate important characters, you know the best thing you can do for yourself is say yes to every opportunity. You’re very seldom able to, which is why you have Q in the first place. But the prospect of spending another day with Hyunjin scares you, and you’re not sure Q would consider it a legitimate concern if you brought it up to him.

“I’ll be there, too,” Q interrupts, almost as though he can read your mind. “It’s just him. One day, max, and then you can pick up your other projects.”

It doesn’t seem like there will be a way out of this one, no matter how much you pray that things will fall through eventually.

“One day,” you echo. “And then I’m tunnel vision on the rest of my projects.”

*

You can tell Hyunjin’s thought about this very carefully, judging by the way he saunters into the room with purposeful strides and slings a bag off his shoulder.

He’s dressed a little more casually today in a denim jacket and jeans, with layered silver jewelry that contrasts nicely against his jet black hair.

“Like a model headshot, but painted,” he describes his vision to you, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

“I want it to look really serious. And maybe a cool-toned color palette.”

He’s meticulous with his requests, and you wonder briefly if he dabbles in art, himself.

“Sure, we can do that,” Q responds, jotting down a few points in a small notepad.

You say nothing, letting Q do all the talking, but Hyunjin’s eyes glance over at you briefly like he wants you to acknowledge the request. So you just nod graciously, giving him a thin-lipped smile, and begin to undo your briefcase.

Hyunjin assumes his same spot on one of the wooden stools, dragging it closer to you by its leg and propping it within eye-view of your big canvas. And then he sits on it, or rather slouches, adjusting his gaze to look straight at you and maintain a cold, serious expression.

It’s just as unnerving as you’d remembered it, having this model-looking figure pierce daggers through your soul while you mix your paints- cool-toned ones, at his request, and prepare for the hour-long trek of capturing his essence.

At least you won’t have to talk to him- or so you’d assumed from the last session you completed with him.

“What’s your process like?” He asks, his sultry voice perfectly matching his features.

“Oh,” you remark, mixing a set of paints to mirror his even skin tone. “I don’t know, I just paint what I see.”

He nods, satisfied with your less-than-wordy answer, and then he begins to prod you with more questions.

“What are your favorite art supplies?”

You cock an eyebrow at this, well aware that you have a long list you can indulge him in, but not wanting to share your secrets with this complete stranger.

“I dunno,” you reply softly. “Oil paints, and graphite pencils really.”

Hyunjin nods again, and then he glances at Q, who gives him a thin-lipped smile much like yours, trying his hardest to remain polite with Hyunjin. You know Q is likely frustrated with you for not entertaining this conversation in a more lively manner, especially considering what he paid for this session, but you’re not going to indulge him in anything except painting him- and only for this one session, like you promised Q.

And the rest of the session is uneventful, Hyunjin poking you with questions about your personal favorite paintings or inquiring about a time you messed up on an important piece. All questions which are answered with brief “I don’t know’s” or “there are so many, I can’t choose.”

And although you are trying hard to keep Hyunjin at a distance, nothing seems to faze him, his head nods and little hums serving as indicators of his satisfaction with all of your answers. He doesn’t get pushy, like your other clients often do, and he even presses Q for a few answers as he makes sense of your work.

At just past 5, the session draws to a close, as Hyunjin rises from his stool and announces he has to tend to his evening dance practice.

“It’s nice seeing you again,” Hyunjin says as he approaches you, giving a small bow as Q waits off to the side.

“Thank you,” you voice back, glancing at Q for a push to leave.

And Hyunjin extends a single hand, gesturing for you to place yours in his, as he towers over you with a curious expression.

You reluctantly place your palm in his, letting the cool metal of his rings graze your skin as he clasps his thumbs over your fingers and rubs them in gentle back and forth motions. He doesn’t bring it up for a cordial peck, he doesn’t shake it- he simply caresses your artist hands tenderly, before letting go again and turning to give Q a small bow as well.

“Take care,” Hyunjin says, pivoting to exit the room into the corridor.

And as Q pesters you with orders to clean up your workstation, you examine your own hands, rotating your own fingers around, like they might somehow be changed by his touch.

*

ON HOLD- The notes under your projects on the big calendar in Q’s office read, written in dark red pen and underlined twice across the pages.

You furrow your brows in confusion, setting your bag down as you enter for the day and ready your art supplies.

“What’s going on?” You ask Q, who’s busy sorting through a stack of invoices.

“Have a seat,” he replies plainly, gesturing to one of the leather chairs that accompany his grand wooden desk. And you do, sitting on the very edge of the chair as you await further instruction from him.

“A gift came for you,” Q says, slinging a large box on the desk in front of you.

You stand up once again, peering inside at the myriad of oil paints, sharpened charcoal pencils, new smocks, palettes and even books about artists and their works. You dig through the supplies, heart racing at the expensive choices, feeling undeserving of all the presents the box contains.

“This is all for me?” You question, baffled at the prospect that anybody could care enough about your career to indulge you in such a fine assortment of goods.

“Read the card,” Q then says, his arms folded in front of him as he nods toward the top of the cardboard box, where a simple yellow envelope is taped to the cover, cursive text scribbled on the front. Hyunjin, it reads.

You undo the seal, pulling out the small card inside, which only contains a short, cold sentence, in contrast to the warm gift.

“For the next few”, it says, not so much as a sign off or even a simple “thanks”.

“Next few?” You repeat, meeting Q’s gaze with a confused expression.

Q sighs, sitting across from you, folding his hands out on the wooden surface where you can see them.

“His manager called this morning,” he begins. “And commissioned us for another one. Except this one has a long set of rules. He wants you to use these supplies, he wants to visit your studio instead of occupy the company building. And he specifically asked me not to accompany you.”

“What?” You exclaim, angered at the sheer audacity he has, and knowing very well that you only agreed to one painting.

“That’s completely against our rules,” you continue. “Did you tell him no?”

And Q gives you a sheepish grin, gesturing to the stack of papers he flipped through earlier. “They’re offering quadruple the pay,” he says sternly. “He’s obsessed with your work.”

“So what?” You argue. “I have a ton of other projects to finish. And I’m not throwing all of that away because some guy wants time alone with the artist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting alone time with an artist,” Q emphasizes.

“This is a huge sacrifice, Quinton. I wish you would’ve run this by me earlier.”

Your eyes meet the calendar above his desk again, counting the number of projects with a big ON HOLD scribbled below them. Q sighs, evidently feeling a little guilty for his own actions, and then pinches his wireframe glasses between his fingers, pulling them off his face and tucking them into the pocket of his blazer.

“I’m willing to give you 10% more than what you already make from these.”

Your gaze snaps to his, a bewildered expression on your face as you process his words.

“What- seriously? Quinton, that’s-”

“His company’s loaded” he says with a shrug. “The guy is so much bigger than I thought he was. People love him.”

And your gaze flickers between the calendar and the big red text, Quinton’s hopeful stare and at the box of new art supplies you’ll be required to work with.

Q doesn’t need to press you for verbal confirmation, knowing that the caress of your fingers over Hyunjin’s name on the envelope serves as answer enough.

*

Your studio is particularly messy on Wednesdays, housing all of the project paraphernalia from the days prior. Today is no exception, canvases that sit on easels lining the walls and cans of paint thinner spread out on the tarps. You make your best attempt at shoving everything against the wall, creating a clear pathway for Hyunjin to stride into the way he always does. And you set up your canvas prior to his arrival, getting all of your necessary supplies in place to avoid the awkward few moments of setting up while he watches you so intently.

He’s a punctual idol if you’ve ever met one, arriving at 5pm on the dot, expensive-looking sunglasses shielding his eyes from the barely visible sunlight outside, and a black beanie pulled over his head. He looks like he could be a security guard of his own, the all-black attire even more unsettling as he makes his way inside.

There’s a reason you never house clients in your own studio- the reason being it’s small. It’s office-sized, large glass windows on one side of the wall that overlook a sea of greenery that’s now overgrown with all the recent rains. The floor is gray concrete, stained just about everywhere with swatches of paint and charcoal pieces. And the two tabled surfaces that are available are covered in art supplies, the color of the furniture now indistinguishable as they house tubes of paint, brushes and cans of thinner.

“You can put your bag on the chair there,” you say as he walks in, his hands still shoved in his pockets.

He does as told, setting a designer crossbody on the folding chair by one of the tables, and then he stands confidently, observing the room as he awaits further instruction.

He takes long strides around the perimeter of the room, leaning closely into the existing canvases to study your techniques. But he says nothing, remaining much quieter than last time, the only sound coming from his heeled boots as he moves elegantly around the studio.

“I’m ready,” you say, and Hyunjin turns around to face you. He cocks his head slightly, and then he brings one hand up to pull the beanie off his head, letting his brown tresses fall loosely around his handsome face, not requiring much adjustment as they seem to fall in disarray so perfectly. He pulls his sunglasses off as well, folding them between his plump lips before tucking them into the pocket of his jeans as he finally stops to look at you.

He looks as handsome as he always does, his unreal features looking as though he was modeled by a painting and not the other way around. You feel small in front of him, and unimportant, as he approaches you and stops just in front of your much smaller figure.

“How do you want me?” Hyunjin asks, cuffing up the sleeves of his black knit sweater.

“It’s up to you,” you reply to him, giving a small shrug as you speak.

“This one’s your call,” Hyunjin retorts. “I want it from the artist’s vision.”

And you can’t help the blush that creeps up on your cheeks, feeling embarrassingly flustered at the idea of someone caring even slightly about your vision. Everything’s from your client’s vision- the outfits, the poses, even the adjustments they request following the painting’s unveiling. It’s very seldom that you’re able to provide any directions to the standard of your vision, and though it’s unexpected, it’s a little endearing.

“My vision?” You echo, tapping your fingers on your chin.

You glance around the room at the supplies you have on hand, nothing special, but definitely materials you can work with.

Without replying to him, you pull forward one of the folding chairs, setting it down in front of your easel and gesturing to it.

“Could you sit on the top part? Like, on the back of the chair?”

Hyunjin nods, climbing up onto the chair and balancing as he takes a seat on the back part. It’s a little unstable looking, but Hyunjin seems to manage just fine, spreading his legs casually and running his hands through his hair.

“Your hands,” you chime in, taking note of the silver watch he flaunts on his left wrist. “Could you rest them on your knees?”

“Like this?” Hyunjin questions, sprawling his palms out over his kneecaps.

“Not quite,” you reply. “A little more like…”

And then without warning, you take both his hands in yours, positioning his elbows to rest atop his kneecaps so that his hands hang loosely in front of him. He cocks his face up to meet your gaze, the same intense expression he always houses, and you take a step back to admire the position.

“Exactly like that,” you say to him. “Tell me if you get uncomfortable and we’ll take a break.”

Hyunjin shoots a small smile, perhaps more of a smirk at you, as he sits still and watches you begin to paint in long strokes along the canvas. Your movements are fluid and impetuous, but every stroke proves itself more robust than the last, painting a clear outline of Hyunjin’s seated figure as he keeps his eyes on you. And maybe it’s because you’ve chosen his pose this time, or because it’s your third time doing this with Hyunjin, but you don’t feel nearly as uncomfortable anymore, keeping your attention on the painting and disregarding any implications that might derive from his cold stare.

“I wasn’t sure which brand of oil paints you preferred,” Hyunjin says suddenly. “So I bought you three kinds.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply softly. “Thank you for the gifts. You really didn’t have to.”

“You have a talent,” Hyunjin voices. “I hung the last one up in my own studio.”

“You have a studio?” You question, remembering Q had previously mentioned something about him being an artist.

“I do,” Hyunjin answers. “It’s nothing like this one, just some canvases in the shared dorm we have. But I paint in all my free time. If I wasn’t here right now, I’d probably be painting.”

“That’s interesting,” you reply. “I’d love to see your work someday.

And Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate to pull his phone out, navigating to his camera roll to show you some of his pieces. He flashes you a painting of a bouquet of roses, placed in a glass case atop a table. Another showcases a city street, scribbled cars and people that line the pavement. And a whole gallery of them depict people- couples, in particular, in all sorts of romantic poses. Kissing, hugging, embracing with such passion and force, almost consuming each other with their visible desperation for one another.

“They’re beautiful,” you say, in awe at the technique of his art. You weren’t expecting him to be so good, for someone who doesn’t paint as a full-time career.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replies, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve learned so much from you.”

“Me?” You retort with a small chuckle. “I highly doubt that, your stuff is very unique. But I’m flattered that you’d say that. Thank you.”

Hyunjin keeps his gaze on yours for a moment, cocking his head to the side as though he’s observing your features. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes narrowing and widening again as he takes in the sight of you dabbing a little more olive paint into his complexion. And then he straightens his back, steadying himself on the chair with two hands gripping the sides.

“When was the last time you left this studio?” He inquires with a smug expression. He sounds a little more serious now, and his tone of voice makes your heartbeat race.

“I don’t live here,” you reply plainly. “I leave every day.”

“When was the last time you escaped?” He then clarifies. “When was the last time you weren’t confined here for the purposes of work?”

You furrow your brows, trying your best to keep busy with your task and avert his gaze.

“This is my job,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to escape.”

“I’m a dancer,” Hyunjin states matter-of-factly. “I don’t live in the studio at the building. Sure, the bright lights and the walls of mirrors help with the choreography. But sometimes I dance in my dorm. And sometimes I dance in a big grass field when nobody’s watching.”

You pause your brushstrokes for a moment, finally meeting his gaze as he stares down at you. He raises one eyebrow, waiting for an answer, which you fail to provide him with as he leans forward once again and clasps his hands together.

“You feel trapped here, don’t you?”

And suddenly his words infuriate you, the sheer audacity of him to walk into your studio demanding all these rules from you, like your boundaries can be overlooked if they’re bought. And who is he to pry into your life like this, knowing next to nothing about you except that you’re a painter? It’s blasphemous- offensive, even.

“I’m not trapped,” you say, standing from your stool and backing away from him a little. “I love my job. I can quit whenever I want to, and this is my passion.”

“Who are you when you’re not painting these portraits?” Hyunjin inquires, and your eyebrows contort into a much angrier frown.

“Who are you to imply any of this, anyway? You’re an idol. You’re the one who’s trapped in the confines of a million rules- are you even allowed to be here right now? Who are you when you’re not putting on the mask of a completely different persona?”

You exhale frustratedly as you finish, taking a moment to catch your breath, and trying your best to avoid his gaze. But when you meet his piercing eyes again, he’s smiling, a wicked expression on his face like he’s amused at your lashing.

“I’m glad you asked ,” he says simply.

“What?”

“I’d assumed it was part of your vision, to maybe scratch below the surface of the flesh outlines you paint. I know there’s more than meets the eye to your work. You have this passion about you.”

“Passion?” You reply nervously, now fiddling with the brush still in your grasp.

“Mhm,” Hyunjin responds casually. “Like you want to lash out. Go on, get it off your chest. I won’t mind.”

And you say nothing again, shrinking back into the confines of your wooden stool as you swirl the brush around in the same mug of water and dip it back into a dollop of paint.

“I’m sorry,” you voice to him. “I don’t treat my clients like this. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders sag a little, as though he was waiting for you to keep the chaos alive in this little studio. He just nods, and then he assumes the same position as earlier, his knees spread in front of him and his hands resting comfortably on his knee caps as he slouches forward.

You resume the task of shading in his skin tone, adding highlights to the elevated portions of his face and glancing over at him in intervals to confirm where the light hits him.

“I’ve learned so much from you,” Hyunjin says for the second time tonight, and you’re still unsure what he means by it. “I think we could learn a lot about each other.”

And the studio falls silent for the remainder of the session, as he allows his eyes to bore into your soul while you translate his being onto the canvas in front of you. Or at least the parts that are able to be translated.

*

Your calendar is blocked off for the remainder of the week for other clients, Hyunjin rescheduling his sessions as he prepares for a performance overseas.

Your heart sinks a little when Q announces the schedule change to you, secretly praying you haven’t completely ruined your artist/client relationship with Hyunjin. He’s definitely a little odd, and he can be pushy when he wants to be. But he’s undeniably more intriguing than the investors you’re used to housing at the studio, telling you stories of his dancing and inquiring about all your favorite techniques every chance he gets.

He’s the first client who’s ever uttered the word “vision” when it came to yours, and not his, and you can’t let go of the value it added to your last session with him. You had yelled at him, ordered him to stop projecting his thoughts onto yours and asking personal questions. But it was the first time you felt alive, somewhat visible to a client as you painted them. His eyes pierce through your soul, every tangible inch of it, and not just the empty shell of who you are when you’re not existing so loudly. And Hyunjin seems like the only catalyst that allows you to exist loudly these days, even Q walking all over you like you’re an extension of his tedious ways.

Although your last conversation didn’t go quite as smoothly as you’d hoped it would, Hyunjin’s words continue to circle your mind relentlessly, your heart trying to make sense of them no matter how hard you try.

“Who are you when you’re not painting these portraits?”

It’s a fair question, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a discourteous one, either. Maybe he’s genuinely curious about the woman you are when you’re not following Q’s orders. But where has Hyunjin pulled the implication from that you’re anyone except for the person assigned to produce these portraits? You’ve given him no reason to think anything of you besides the well-mannered, focused painter you are. And to imply anything else would also, by extension, imply he knows something about you.

“I’ve learned so much about you,” he had also said to you, twice in the same session. And can one really learn from two, three sessions of watching an artist paint? Sure, if he was more focused on your technique and your mannerisms rather than staring at you so intensely. But he hadn’t seemed to be interested in much else, simply keeping his gaze on yours and asking base-level questions about your artist career.

If anything, you could learn a lot about Hyunjin, who has the whole world at his disposal and walks around this place like he owns it. He speaks of you like he’s trying to study you. He wants to learn from you, despite being the one wielding much more knowledge and wisdom than you could even begin to fathom. True, you don’t escape this studio- and you don’t utilize it without the intention to work. In fact, your work consumes you most days, your personal life just a microscopic dot in the grand scheme of this arrangement.

But Hyunjin seems to think otherwise, his generous gifts and his fascination with returning seeming to imply something else. Like he wants to learn from you, or like he’s convinced he already has.

In apprehension, like he knows you.

*

“Where are we going?” You query when Hyunjin arrives next, quickly ordering you to gather your supplies and ushering you to the door.

“We’re not painting here today,” he says plainly.

“What? No, Hyunjin I don’t paint anywhere except for-”

“The studio or a company,” he finishes. “That’s the issue. I want to take you somewhere more lively.”

“I can’t be around people,” you respond. “I don’t… it’ll just mess up the whole process.”

“Do you trust me?” Hyunjin asks suddenly, his hand extending out to yours for the briefcase you grasp.

What a simplified question- absolutely not. You don’t trust him, that’s the issue with leaving the studio. You’re still not sure of his career as a whole, you’re not sure why he’s so adamant about breaking all sorts of rules and you don’t know anything beyond his name.

“No,” you reply. “I don’t think I trust you at all, actually.”

And Hyunjin just smiles, stepping forward to take the briefcase from you.

“Good,” he replies, the same amused smile plastered on his face. “That means there’s still a lot I can teach you.”

He watches you slip on your coat, undeniably confused, but in a trance-like state obeying his commands, like your heart won’t let you hear your brain’s protests.

Hyunjin doesn’t drive. He doesn’t need to, having his own personal chauffeur at his beck and call, able to go just about anywhere in the evening during his allotted hours of free time. Ones he normally spends in the studio, watching you paint.

You sit quietly on one side of the fancy black car, your hands folded neatly in your lap and staring at the passing blur of city lights out the window. Hyunjin occupies the other, one of his slender hands resting atop the briefcase in an attempt to steady it whilst the driver makes sharp turns and brakes a little too harshly.

You watch as the city roads turn to one long paved road, surrounded by tall grass and trees. And this path goes on for a while, maybe 20 or 30 minutes, as you remain in comfortable silence. The driver seems to be acquainted with the road, turning every way he needs to, no form of navigation telling where to go, simply having memorized the route. And Hyunjin doesn’t seem tense in the slightest, humming softly to himself as he taps his fingers along the leather surface of the briefcase.

The fork at the end of the road signals the stopping point for the driver, who hits the brakes, but doesn’t turn the car off. The keys remain in the ignition as he comes around to open your door, guiding you out with one hand and bowing graciously to the both of you.

“One hour,” Hyunjin says to him, sliding him a generously folded bill.

The driver nods, occupying his spot in the driver’s seat, and you watch him make a U-turn before driving off down the path again.

The environment is quiet, much quieter than any spot back in the city. It’s nothing except for trees and tall grass that sway with the gentle evening breeze, the sky swallowing up a now orange sun as nighttime begins to over both of you. If you squint, you can even see the mountains from here, some of them lined with little yellow lights, probably vacant buildings or farm workers. And the birds sing their last songs of the day, mellow tunes that harmonize with the growing chirps of crickets.

“It’s pretty here,” you remark to Hyunjin, who stands looking out at the view with his hands tucked in his coat pockets.

He doesn’t reply for a moment, his long hair swaying with the breeze. And then he tilts his head in the direction of the briefcase, nodding once.

“Paint what you see,” he orders.

You nod reluctantly, scrambling to open the briefcase and set up your supplies.

“Do you want to stand there? Or… do you prefer something else?”

He smiles, a little amused at your rushed state, and then he shakes his head.

“Not me,” he clarifies. “The view. Paint what you see.”

You swallow a lump in your throat, stopping your movements and pondering the words for a moment. You haven’t painted a view in god knows how long. Your skills are rusty, your techniques are skewed and the whole concept of it makes you shudder.

“The view?” You question back. You take a moment to look at the view again- there are possibilities everywhere. Green grasses that resemble paint strokes themselves, a deepening blue sky with strokes of blues and blacks, stars like paint splatters and trees with sponge-painted bushels. The art is everywhere, the possibilities are vast and endless with a view like this one.

“The view,” Hyunjin echoes. “Don’t take it too seriously. This isn’t some company's order to paint me. I just want to see the world through your eyes.”

And you nod, once, Hyunjin helping you latch your sketch pad to the easel as you mix a myriad of blues and greens together on your wooden palette.

He flips through your sketch pad for a little while before stepping away, nodding at the pages upon pages of art unlike any of your portraits. When you think he’s going to move, he doesn’t, remaining in the same spot and nodding his head at the works. And you feel a little shy, a little confused at why he’s taken so much interest in the work you complete on the side, work completely unrelated to any of your portraits. When he reaches a blank page, he meets your gaze with a small smile, nodding his head once at you as he finally moves out of the way.

And then you finally begin, hesitantly, as Hyunjin finds a spot in an undisturbed part of the grass, sprawling his long legs out in front of him and pulling out a sketch pad from his own bag. He angles it away from you, beginning to make long, generous lines with his charcoal pencil, peering over at the trees every now and then to gauge their shape. And you remain there, a comfortable silence among both of you, as you both capture the view in your respective visions.

The technique comes back to you instantly, like motion memory, quickly sponging leaves into the trees and pulling the dark sky from its draped position over you to plaster it onto the canvas you work on. Blues, greens, glittering whites for the night stars and fantastic shades of chartreuse and viridian find their homes on the canvas, so carefully placed and mirroring the view you overlook. You emulate the shadows, the waning glints of light, even the sounds seem to live on the picturesque view where time stands still in the confines of four walls.

Hyunjin doesn’t disturb your work flow- in fact, for most of the time you remain there, you cease to remember he’s even working on a sketch of his own, his delicate figure disappearing among the trees as your peripherals shut him out and bring nature to the forefront.

It’s only an hour you’re there, like Hyunjin had promised, before he’s returning to your spot and standing behind you to look over your shoulder.

“Beautiful,” Hyunjin states dramatically. “Beautiful, and spectacular, and shining.”

You chuckle lightly, wiping the brush on your smock and tucking it away in one of the front pockets.

“Will you sign it?” Hyunjin asks, cocking his head a little to try to find where your signature currently sits, but finding nothing.

“Oh, yeah,” you respond, bringing a charcoal pencil to the bottom right and scribbling a quick signature.

He scans the painting once more, tracing a finger over the corner where you’ve added your signature, and then he gives a small nod before meeting your gaze.

“This one’s my favorite,” Hyunjin tells you. “Because it’s entirely your vision.”

“The ones I make of you are my vision, too,” you explain, and Hyunjin shakes his head with a small smile.

“I like how you see the world. Not how you see me. Or anybody else, for that matter.”

And you find yourself blushing again, unsure if his intention is to fluster you with his poetic words, but well aware that he’s having the effect on you regardless.

“Thank you,” you echo politely. “I like this one, too.”

Your gazes remain fixed on each other for a brief moment, the grass now standing still as the night falls over you, stars glittering in the black sky and the crickets singing their nocturnal songs.

For the first time since meeting him, Hyunjin looks less cold at this proximity to you, his entire demeanor exuding softness and comfort as he smiles at you. Maybe it’s the black puffer coat he wears, the collar pulled up to his chin to keep warm from the frigid winter night around you. He wears his glasses, too, these ones a thicker black frame, pushed high up on his face and a little dorky, admittedly. But it’s also because he seems kinder, more warm and welcoming. There’s no existing rush to capture him any which way- in fact, there’s no pressure to capture him at all. And maybe when you’re not translating his model-like appearance onto canvas, you’re able to step back and admire that he’s soft under his hard exterior, he’s so gentle and human.

At first, you debate telling him, a sudden urge inside of you to apologize for your presumptions of him and admit that he’s slowly become your favorite client to be around. Maybe he’s right- maybe you do have a lot you can teach each other. He lives a life of lavishness, entertaining varying aspects of his idol career and serving a role of great importance to those who know him. And he is certainly of importance to your career, being your highest-paying customer and the one you’ve painted the most now. But he plays a role in other parts of your life too, allowing you to try new techniques, entertain your vision, circling your mind with his poetic words and his strategic motions. All lessons which allow you to grow outside the confines of your studio, too.

But you settle on silence, not wanting Hyunjin to think too boldly of you. Maybe he’s like this with everybody he crosses paths with. Choreographers, vocal coaches and painters alike. Maybe he’s simply as fascinating as he looks.

As you study him again, the sound of a car engine interrupts you, and you turn around to find Hyunjin’s driver has returned as promised. You bring a hand up to shield your eyes from the bright headlights that illuminate the whole field, as Hyunjin helps you gather your supplies again, securing the canvas in its case and transporting it into the backseat of the car with the driver’s help.

Hyunjin holds the door for you this time, ushering you inside, and then he comes around to slide into the backseat next to you.

“I think it’s going to rain,” the driver says as he puts the car in reverse.

You crane your neck to look at the sky through the tinted windows, dark blue clouds that loom overhead and seem to make the night even colder.

“I have one more place we need to stop at,” Hyunjin says suddenly, sitting forward to make eye contact with the driver through the mirror.

The driver nods in response, as if the last location is a secret kept between them, as he begins down the dirt path again in silence.

*

“Ever been here?” Hyunjin questions, as he holds out a hand to guide you up the stairs. The steep concrete stairs lead to a grand crested marble doorway, a bronze statue out in front and dimly lit lamp posts that illuminate the sign overhead.

Museum of Modern Art.

“Once, a long, long time ago,” you respond. “I think I usually steer clear from galleries since I don’t show my work at them.”

Hyunjin chuckles softly, stopping at the front door and meeting the gaze of a security guard, who promptly strides over and opens the door just an inch.

Hyunjin pulls out an ID, and a folded paper of some sort, and you watch as the security examines it briefly before nodding. It’s only then that you realize the museum is closed for the evening, the only person around behind the night security, but of course that rule doesn’t apply to Hyunjin, who can get in just about anywhere with the flash of a smile.

“It’s the only way to visit with no one else around,” Hyunjin says, confirming your theory. “They let me stay as long as I want. Sometimes I draw here.”

You nod at his words, giving a small smile as the security eyes you intensely, and then he opens the door to guide both of you inside. Hyunjin removes his coat, slinging it over a nearby coat hanger, and he flaunts a white knit sweater with his dark jeans, looking cozy in contrast to the dark winter night outside. He holds your sketch pad tucked under one arm, and then he skips excitedly to a room behind a curtain.

“This one’s my favorite!” He exclaims, giggling softly like a child might. “Do you know they’re all made out of recycled materials?”

And you brush the curtain aside, being met with the sculptures he speaks of, neutral-toned figurines that appear to be made of paper mache, all resembling people. Their forms hold each other, mimic ballroom dancing, and even embrace each other in a tender kiss as they stand tall in the center of the room.

You watch as Hyunjin snaps a few photos with his cellphone, craning his neck to view them at a better angle, and then he turns to face you.

“What do you think?” Hyunjin asks.

“They’re beautiful,” you reply. “They kind of remind me of your drawings.”

He shoots you a flustered smile in response, touched that you’ve even remembered what his drawings look like. And then he graciously bows as he ushers to another room.

“I think you’ll like the next one.”

The next room behind another dark curtain is a gallery of paintings, all of them abstract forms of art that experiment with different colors and mediums. You take a while in this room, sauntering down the row of canvases and observing how each one captures something completely different from the others. Some include only cool-toned shades, their strokes much smaller and overall more somber. Some play with warm tones, long generous strokes that capture passion and heat. And some mix both, two stories dancing in harmony on one canvas, contrasting light with shadow and love with regret.

As you cock your head slightly, observing the way the colors are so evocative from this proximity, Hyunjin comes to stand next to you, cocking his head in a similar fashion and taking in the same details that you do. And if someone were to stand behind you, maybe both of you would mirror the painting, too, two hues of life and recluse working in perfect harmony alongside each other.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asks, and you hum in response.

“Yeah. I love these colors.”

Hyunjin nods, giving the painting a last once-over before nodding in the direction of another curtain.

“Come on, I want to show you this last one.”

The last room houses a little bench, where Hyunjin occupies the left side and pats the spot next to him. You take a seat, your hands folded neatly in your lap, as you observe the colossal painting in front of you.

It’s a watercolor painting, one amorphous shape at a far distance, yet at this proximity, the tangible outline of a figure, sat with legs pulled to the chest and crouched in a position evoking such sadness.

The cold blue hues highlight the shadows which define body parts among the pile of limbs, the curve of a breast, the almost indistinguishable outline of a leg, aspects you have to really squint hard to make out. But the colors complement each other so artistically, and the figure in the painting looks so melancholy, so longing for something more than the confines of the canvas she lives on.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hyunjin voices, and you nod, swallowing as you remain quiet.

He pauses for a moment, his voice hitching in the back of his throat, before speaking again.

“The artist was a child prodigy,” he begins. “Apparently they painted all their life and then became a sort of recluse into adulthood. No one’s seen a painting from them since. This was their last big project.”

“Interesting,” you remark quietly.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin replies. “And their art is always titled around themes of loneliness and solitude. Every painting kind of feels like a puzzle piece leading up to their disappearance from the art world.”

Hyunjin says nothing as your eyes dart around the room, swallowing nervously as you ponder what to say. And nothing comes to mind, nothing that won’t make you seem crazy, or irate.

And then before you can protest his actions, he flips open your sketch pad he’s kept tucked under his arm all this time, flipping through a few pages until he’s nearly at the end. He stops at one of your paintings, cool aqua hues filling the paper in the same manner as the one hung on the wall.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Hyunjin finally says, and you realize he’s turned to face you now.

You stand up at this point, smoothing down your blouse and turning away from his gaze.

“Sorry, I have to go-”

You search for an exit, unable to locate one amidst the dark curtains and the dimly lit room. And the only thing you can think to do is walk back the way you entered, beginning back through the abstract painting gallery as Hyunjin follows behind you.

“They’re amazing,” Hyunjin says. “You have a talent. Your paintings were always my favorite-”

“Please, stop,” you interrupt, your heart beating erratically as you make your way past the paper mache sculptures.

“Why did you stop making them?” He asks, now standing still in the entrance, the security guard on high alert as he watches Hyunjin’s stressed demeanor.

“Sorry,” you voice to the security guard, bowing to him. “I have to go, thank you so much.”

And without turning to look at Hyunjin, you push the doors open, making your way out of the museum and onto the concrete steps. It’s raining now, hard, like the driver had predicted, and you march right past his parked car to one of the taxis parked by the curb.

The cab driver takes an address from you, punching it into his navigation system as he begins to drive down the street, and you pray he can’t hear the quiet sniffles coming from you in the backseat.

As he pulls away from the curb, you glance out the window at the museum, where Hyunjin’s now shoving past the door and standing still, his hands dropped at his sides and a hurt expression on his face.

His hair falls damp around his face as he lets the sheets of rain wash over him, his driver exiting the vehicle in a rush to get Hyunjin back into the safety of the car.

But he remains there, unmoving, his hurt gaze fixed on yours, as you turn a corner and fall out of his sight.

*

And just like the sessions were uneventful before Hyunjin, they’re much more uneventful after him, too.

Putting the sessions on hold for Hyunjin is nothing, his life full of vibrancy and color when he’s not spending an hour or two with you in the evening posing for a painting. It’s time he fills with extra dance practice, vocal training, spending time with his members and even doing art of his own.

But for you, it means returning to a life of mediocrity, requesting stock brokers to angle their big heads in a more appealing manner so you can capture every one of their unsightly features. You’re ogled at by salesmen, disrespected by accountants and not a single one of them could give a shit about your vision.

A part of you wants to call Hyunjin and apologize, to explain that he was out of line in his approach to identify you and catch you so off-guard. But you’re mostly angry at him, for having ruined something so beautiful you took pride in every week. Now he’s gone, the sessions put on pause until further notice and your life forever changed by Hyunjin, though he’ll keep living his life of lavishness despite being the source of all your pain.

“Now that we don’t have Hyunjin on the books after this week, I need you to resume the work on Mr. Lee’s painting. Let’s not lose sight of the ones we started prior to his pieces,” Q says, as he flips through a clipboard of printed schedules.

“This week?” You echo in question. “I thought sessions with Hyunjin were put on hold until further notice.”

“They were,” he responds. “After your last session this week. He’ll be here tomorrow evening. He’s your last client of the day.”

“Tomorrow?” You repeat, pausing your brush strokes as you turn to look at him. “He requested to come in tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Q replies with furrowed brows. “Why, is there a problem? I already told him yes.”

“No, that’s fine,” you reply, rotating the brush around in your fingers as you think over his words. “Tomorrow works fine.”

Despite the sessions being put on hold, you’ll still have a moment to explain yourself to Hyunjin and make amends. It might not get you exactly where you were before all of this, but the thought of letting Hyunjin part ways thinking you despise him makes your stomach turn. You’ll still get a moment alone with him to rekindle the state of your friendship.

… Or so you thought. When you arrive at the studio the next day for your last session, Q is still there, organizing papers at one of the tables and still dressed in a fancy blazer and tie like he never left from this morning’s session.

“Quinton?” You call, setting your purse down and toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Yes?” He responds, not looking up at you.

“Are you… don’t you normally sit these sessions out?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he says casually. “I’ll be sitting in on this last one. I know they were put on hold pretty abruptly, and I wanted to be around for your last one.”

You give him a small nod, protesting his actions mentally. You won’t get a minute alone with Hyunjin after all- not with Q watching you like a hawk. You want to scream at him, to tell him he has to leave and that he’ll be permanently disrupting the client-artist relationship you’ve developed with your highest-paying customer if he stays and taints the room with his overwhelming presence. But he largely determines the success of your career, whether you like it or not. And requesting Q’s absence will most certainly point to something more going on between you and Hyunjin.

“Right,” you reply. “That’s fine.”

You wish Quinton wouldn’t be so… mechanical. You wish he could trust that you’ll get the job done, despite any existing tensions between you and Hyunjin. You wish he wouldn’t pretend to care about being present, when in reality you know he just wants to make sure it wasn’t you who screwed something up. And you wish he would leave you alone with Hyunjin to make amends the way you know you need to before you part ways with him.

When the door opens once again, you both turn your heads to look at Hyunjin, who strolls in with casual strides, his hands stuffed in his pockets. His gaze falls on Q, and he furrows his brows together, finally looking at you, with a confused expression on his face.

“Welcome!” Q says obnoxiously. “I’ll be sitting in for this session, I hope you don’t mind.”

Hyunjin shoots him a thin-lipped smile, giving a subtle nod as he slings his bag off.

“Sure,” he replies. “That’s fine.”

He assumes his spot on the same wooden stool, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap, and then he turns to meet your gaze.

“How do you want me?” Hyunjin asks. He sounds more somber than the other times he’d asked the same question, his voice trailing off a little as he waits for a reply.

“This is good,” you say, taking your own seat and beginning to work light strokes across the canvas. You start with his jawline, the same chiseled jawline you’ve gotten so used to painting, working a robust angle where the crook of his neck meets his cheeks. Then his eyes, the piercing intensity of them, narrowing involuntarily as he poses with such skill, the same eyes which have graced the covers of magazines and album covers. His lips, plump and rosy, forming a small pout as he remains silent. And the outline of his luscious brown tresses, which fall beautifully around his face and soften the rest of his features.

He looks so enchanting this evening, like he’s straight out of one of the paintings at the museum. And your anger feels almost completely dissipated once he’s in front of you like this, just a pressing urge to be alone with him so you can communicate properly.

“Looking good,” Q says as he comes up behind you, his hands folded behind his back.

Hyunjin’s eyes dart over at Q’s standing figure, glancing over at you again while you paint. You attempt to shoot him an apologetic expression, wanting to tell him it wasn’t your idea to have Q here watching your every move. But you can’t properly convey your emotions to him with Q practically breathing down your neck.

“Beautiful work”, Q chimes in, nodding as you add the color to Hyunjin’s hair.

You can feel yourself getting frustrated with him, wishing so badly you could at least ask him to wait on the other side of the room like he normally does. But he remains there, crowding around you as you work and filling the room with his awkward presence.

“I’ll drag up a chair,” Q says with a small chuckle. “So I don’t have to stand.”

And both you and Hyunjin watch as he pulls up a folding chair, dragging it along the floor in one painfully slow motion, the sound of the legs screeching against the concrete floor as he places it next to you and takes a seat.

Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours again, cocking his head slightly as though he’s asking why you’ve allowed Q to be so overbearing today. But none of this is according to your plans, either.

“Go on,” Q urges. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

You hadn’t even realized you’ve stopped painting, grasping your brush between your fingers as you watch Q adjust in his seat and gesture to the painting.

“I think we should take a break,” Hyunjin says finally. “My leg is cramping a little.”

“Of course,” Q echoes back. “We can take five. There’s a vending machine out by the front door. And the bathrooms are on the right, by the-”

Q can’t even finish his sentence before Hyunjin’s shoving his way past the door, taking long strides away from the studio and waiting outside. He pinches the bridge of his nose in deep annoyance, letting out a deep sigh as he ponders the evening’s events so far.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” you tell Q, setting your brush down and following Hyunjin. “I’ll be right back.”

And you follow his footsteps, pushing on the door to meet him outside, where he stands with one hand on his hip, the other massaging his temples frustratedly.

He looks angry, as you predict he would be, but you approach him anyway, fiddling with your thumbs as he stays quiet for a moment.

“I organized this last session to speak with you,” Hyunjin says in an annoyed tone. “I should’ve known you’d invite him.”

“I didn’t invite him,” you say quickly. “I didn’t even know he’d be here, I swear. He just stayed, and he was insistent on sitting in.”

Hyunjin finally drops his hand at his side, meeting your gaze, a softening expression on his face.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off,” he finally says. “I overstepped my boundaries. I’m just here to pay you for art. Not prod into your personal life.”

“I know,” you say back. “I wanted to explain to you, but…” your voice trails off, remembering this is technically your last session with him. And judging by the way everyone speaks of him, it’ll be near impossible to contact him again after this.

“It seems like I missed my chance,” you finish, referencing Q’s persistence.

Hyunjin glances around for a moment at the overgrown plants that line the studio windows, still damp from the evening rain. It looks like a jungle out here, the plants providing no clear view through the windows and instilling such a peaceful sense of privacy.

“Could you stay a little longer?” Hyunjin questions. “After he leaves. I just want to talk to you before I go.”

You think over his proposal for a moment- Quinton is punctual at leaving right past the hour mark. He never stays longer for hours than he needs to, but he’s no stranger to you utilizing the studio to finish up some of your work after hours.

“Sure,” you say finally. “Just pretend you’ve left after the session and I’ll tell him I need to stay longer. Don’t wait near the parking lot or he’ll see you.”

A somber smile grows on Hyunjin’s face as he nods in response.

“I’m going to call my driver and tell him I’ll be longer than the original session. Meet you back inside.”

And you make your way back into the studio, where Q is busy shuffling through papers at the table.

“Ready?” He asks, already taking strides back to his stool, positioned far too close to your canvas and Hyunjin’s seat.

“Yeah,” you reply, sighing a little as he occupies the seat next to you and glances around the room for Hyunjin.

“He’s taking a phone call,” you explain to Q. “Just give him a minute.”

And Q pushes his glasses further up his nose, humming in response as he observes your painting again.

“You’ve really mastered his features,” he comments, scanning over Hyunjin’s painted outline. “Even his eye mole is already there.”

And you scan the painting too, at the little mole painted just below Hyunjin’s left eye as he requested.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess I have.”

You wouldn’t forget it, because everything about him occupies your mind, much like his figure lives on your canvases.

*

It’s just half an hour more before you’re finished with Hyunjin’s painting. It’s still lacking some detail, like the contours along his face and the buttons of his cardigan. But they’re all details you give yourself time to finish later, before you wrap up your final piece and gift it to Hyunjin.

Q is relentless in his micromanaging for the remainder of the session, making useless comments about your techniques and asking Hyunjin about his own work. Hyunjin’s answers are all short and echo his clear annoyance, desperate to finish the session in order to speak with you privately. But you both remain collected in your manners, graciously conversing with Q and reaching the end of the session.

Q reviews his invoice documents as Hyunjin slings his bag on once more, standing by the door as though he’s ready to leave.

“Payment was finalized today, and your sessions are on hold until your tour is completed.”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin responds, bowing graciously. “It was a pleasure to work with both of you. I’ll be back when we’re done overseas.”

“Don’t hesitate to reach out!” Q calls, as Hyunjin makes his way past the door. He waves Q off with a small smile and then turns the corner until he’s out of sight.

“Well, there goes your best-paying client,” Q remarks with a deep sigh. “We have a lot more to pick back up on. I know Mr. Lee’s paintings are still in progress-”

“Thank you, Quinton,” you voice to him. “We’ll talk scheduling tomorrow. Please just get home safely.”

“You’re not leaving yet?” He queries, already pulling on his canvas bag and hanging his clipboard from a thumbtack on the wall.

“I’m going to finish the details while I still remember them. I’ll only be an hour longer.”

Q shrugs, making his way pivoting on his white canvas sneakers and giving you a small wave.

“Call if you need anything,” he says plainly. “Make sure to lock up.”

“I will,” you echo, craning your neck as you watch him finally exit past the door and jog down the stairs. You can’t see Hyunjin anywhere, but Q doesn’t seem to notice him if he’s still around, starting his car and speeding out of the parking lot.

And not even a full minute passes before Hyunjin makes his way back inside, shaking water off his hands.

“I stood under one of the gutters,” he says in a disgusted tone. His hair is stringy wet with rain water, and he chuckles when you meet his gaze with an amused smile.

“You’ll have to let me paint it like that, someday,” you respond, and he laughs lightly.

You take a seat on the folding chair previously occupied by Q, and Hyunjin assumes his same spot on the wooden stool. For a moment he says nothing, observing your face as you tap your fingers along the metal of the chair below you. There’s not a sound in the room between the two of you, with the exception of a small creak coming from the wooden stool as Hyunjin adjusts his long legs. He runs his hands through his hair nervously, and then he licks his dry lips with his tongue before speaking.

“I have something for you,” Hyunjin says suddenly, his voice echoing around the empty room.

He stands up to pull his bag off the floor, and then he digs around in it for a moment before pulling out his sketchbook. You watch as his slender fingers open the spiral-bound cover, flipping past pages upon pages of sketches and paintings. He flips close to the end, and then he stops, bookmarking the page with his index finger before turning the book to face you.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like it,” he says, keeping the book shut in anticipation. “It’s just something I drew.”

And then with bated breath, he opens the book out to you, adjusting the page in your view to give you a clear sight of its contents. It’s a carefully drawn sketch, of you, standing in front of an easel with a brush in your hand. Painting, like you always do. You recognize the scenery around you as the spot he took you to the other day, the long charcoal streaks perfectly capturing the grass that surrounded you and the tall trees that overlooked the hills. Although it’s a sight familiar to you, it also feels so foreign, seeing yourself through somebody else’s eyes. It feels peculiar to remember people also perceive you while you paint. It makes you feel less unimportant, a little more visible.

“Wow, Hyunjin, this is…”

“Do you like it?” Hyunjin interrupts.

“It’s so lovely. Really. I feel like I don’t deserve this.”

“You do,” he’s quick to respond. “You’ve drawn countless ones of me. And of so many other people. I wanted to gift you one of your own.”

You run your fingers along the thick paper, watching as Hyunjin tears it along its perforation and hands it to you.

“Please, keep it,” he urges.

And you bow once in response, turning to set the drawing along with your bag so you won’t forget it.

“Thank you,” you finally say. “I love it. I’m going to hang it with all my favorite art.”

Hyunjin smiles in response, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips, and then he shoves his hands in his pockets again, leaning against the wooden stool as a silence falls over you both.

For a moment, you ponder what to say to him, wanting to explain the events from the other evening, but unable to verbalize anything amidst your nervousness. Any way you think about it, you fear Hyunjin is going to get mad, especially considering you’d just walked away from him in the face of confrontation. But you also couldn’t help it, his accusation coming so suddenly and so boldly, regardless of it being based on any sliver of truth.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin breaks the silence. “I don’t know if I was right or not. But it wasn’t my place to ask you.”

You nod at him, initially planning to divert the topic. But you can’t any further, a growing urge inside of your chest to unveil the truth to him, knowing he’s already pieced this much of it together.

“It is my painting,” you say finally, your voice shaking a little. “I specialized in those ones before portraits. They kind of gained traction when they were first unveiled, and a lot of galleries picked them up. But they drew a lot of criticism, and it became so draining to be the topic of people’s judgment. I think being perceived so heavily just kind of… scared me off. So I shifted to portraits instead, and I no longer do public showings or galleries.”

Hyunjin doesn’t react in a shocked manner, nor does he press you for questions immediately. He just nods, taking in your words, and then he meets your gaze with a concerned expression.

“I learned so much from you,” he explains. “When your paintings were unveiled at the annual art show across the city, I was so mesmerized. They’re why I started painting, too.”

You chuckle lightly, shrugging at him as you slouch back in your seat.

“Yeah, well, I don’t do them anymore.”

You think over your response for a moment, and then you stand up from your seat, too, furrowing your brows together.

“How did you… know it was me?” You question, cocking your head slightly.

“I had a hunch when I first saw your painting techniques. But I also knew it the moment I saw your other paintings in your sketchbook,” he explains. “My favorite painting of the series is printed out and taped to my locker in our dance studio. It just felt like you. I paid attention to your art for years. I was bound to know it when I saw it.”

You nod for the umpteeth time tonight, making sense of his words as you think back to the signature you drew in front of him back in the field.

“I’m sorry I figured it out,” Hyunjin says finally. “I know this was an elaborate plan to remain anonymous and shift your focus to a new form of your work. And your portraits are amazing. But you have a real talent for those older ones. And the whole series just… it changed me.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you tell Hyunjin, looking up to meet his gaze at last. “If anyone was going to find out, I’m glad it was you.”

“You are?” Hyunjin questions, and you hum in response.

“As a client, you have this really interesting way of making me feel seen. When I’m around you, It feels a lot more comfortable from the businessmen I’m used to. It’s like…” your voice trails off as you struggle to finish your sentence. “I feel like I did when I was painting my old stuff. I can see the world beyond just portraits for a little bit.”

Hyunjin says nothing, his eyes flickering down to your lips and back at your eyes once more, which are wide with curiosity and passion as you speak. It’s such a sight to see you talk about your art with this level of devotion again, color in your face once more as you attest to your life’s work.

“Tell me,” Hyunjin begins. “Why are all your paintings so lonely?”

You chuckle softly, shrugging up at him.

“I am lonely,” you say simply.

“I’m lonely, too,” Hyunjin remarks.

And your expression turns serious again, your eyes not leaving his intense gaze as he flickers over your parted lips and takes one step closer to you. He’s towering over you at this point, a strand of hair falling into his face as he lets himself lean into you a little more, just barely grazing his lips over yours.

“Can I please kiss you?” Hyunjin asks so politely, his voice coming out in a whisper as he stops himself from pressing his lips to yours while he waits for an answer.

“Yeah” you finally reply in a whisper of your own, almost on your tippy toes to match his towering height.

And then without another second to waste, Hyunjin closes the gap between both of you, leaning down to press his plump lips to yours and embrace you in a tender, desperate kiss.

He tastes like mint, his lips working against yours with no particular rush, yet his mind still running rampant with thoughts of having you as close as possible. It feels so wrong kissing him here, in the studio you strictly use for the purposes of completing your work-related tasks and nothing more. But with Hyunjin’s lips on yours and his slender hands snaking around the small of your back to pull you closer, it also feels so thrilling, instilling a sense of desire deep within you that can only be fulfilled through acting upon the emotions rooted in your innate fascination with Hyunjin’s entire being.

And you feel visible right now, so tangible when Hyunjin’s nimble hands are running down the sides of your waist and sprawling his delicate fingers along your flesh. It’s you kissing him here, not some shell of who you are when you’re capturing the essences of millionaires on canvas. You’re not the scribbled outlines in Hyunjin’s sketches of couples consuming each other with such passion, though you mirror them. It’s you, child prodigy artist turned portrait specialist, and Hyunjin, in all his fame and splendor, who chooses to spend his free time with you in this studio teaching you about yourself the way you learn from him, too.

Hyunjin’s hands move to tug off the fabric of your cardigan, slouching it off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, where it piles in disarray among the white tarp that houses loose paints. You’re pretty sure there may still be wet paint on its surface, but you don’t care, your body desperately arching into Hyunjin’s tall frame as his hands cup your cheeks to kiss you even deeper.

You can barely reach him while his frame looms over you, only able to reciprocate his kisses on the tips of your toes as he takes full control of you with his mouth. And Hyunjin seems to take notice of this, intertwining his hands in yours and pulling you down with him as he sits among the tarp and sprawls his legs out in front of him. You bestride his lean figure, balancing yourself on his lap as he adjusts himself on the concrete floor, and you both laugh when you take note of the admittedly uncomfortable positioning. It’s not meant for lovers, this dinky studio and its cold, concrete flooring. But it’s nothing that can’t be overlooked when his lips are back on yours, kissing you breathlessly and tucking strands of hair behind your ears. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, an indication by Hyunjin’s definition that he’s wanted this so badly. And he knew it from the moment you walked into the company building the first time, nervously preparing yourself out in the hallway like you weren’t going to be an absolute pro at your craft the way he now knows you are. He also knew it every time he observed your paintings, both your old ones and the newer ones that capture Hyunjin with such ease, every minute detail that builds up his intense stare only to break him down and soften him, translating this multifaceted version of him only you seem to visualize. And he gains confirmation of it when he’s finally acting upon his urges, your hands snaking around the back of his neck and moving in tandem with his hungry kisses against yours, grasping at his flesh like you’re trying to prove to yourself he’s real, too.

His sweater is the second article of clothing to go, your bodies only separating from one another briefly as you guide the knit fabric off over him and discard it beside you in the tarp. Your hands find his torso reluctantly, running your fingers along his flesh as though asking for his permission. And Hyunjin smiles when you do, placing his hands over yours and pressing down a little firmer for you, so that you can feel every inch of his toned body. He wields the body of a dancer, delicate curves that run along his sculpted obliques and highlight the years of intense training he’s done. His body feels strong underneath you, but he still feels soft, his touches exuding the gentle fondness he possesses for you.

And you’re kissing him again, all while his hands find your tank top and he separates to undress you, pulling it off over your head and tossing it aside. His hands are quick to find your breasts, splaying them over the mounds of your chest and massaging gently as his kisses turn hungrier. You can feel him getting hard underneath you, and you can hear his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he struggles to contain his growing bulge while you straddle him. But you indulge him even further, undoing the clasp of your bra with your own hand as you continue kissing him. Hyunjin doesn’t notice until your hand reaches out to toss your bra aside, a gentle rustle emitting from beside you as it joins the pile of discarded articles of clothing. And he separates to take in the sight of you, raised goosebumps along your bare skin and your nipples aroused for him, the cold air grazing over your chest as you wait for him to resume his touches. Hyunjin gasps a little, leaning forward to take one in his mouth, and then he begins to suck harshly as his tongue swirls around your bud generously and trails saliva along your skin. You moan at the sensation, Hyunjin digging his fingernails into the small of your back and leaving little crescent marks as his sucking resumes harshly, soft moans bubbling from the back of his throat, too, as he stays latched to you. And then he pulls away to give attention to the other one, his teeth grazing the tip of your nipple before sucking again, his eyes shutting as he relishes in the taste of your skin in his mouth. Hyunjin’s hips rock gently against you as he does, chasing the friction of your legs around his crotch as he grows even harder beneath you, desperate for some release. And then he pulls away finally, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with lust and a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. You bring a thumb to his forehead, swiping the bead off his blushed skin, before cupping your hands around his cheeks and bringing him in for a kiss.

“Please let me fuck you,” Hyunjin says sheepishly against your lips, groaning lightly when he feels you squeeze your thighs once against his crotch.

“You want to?” You ask teasingly, massaging your hands up and down the sides of his neck as he nods eagerly.

“I really, really want to,” Hyunjin responds, shutting his eyes as you squeeze your legs again and pepper his face in kisses, trailing from his forehead, to his cheeks and down his neck. Hyunjin leans back on the palms of his hands in a state of pure bliss, taking in the sensation he’s only dreamt of until now. And when you nibble down on his neck, beginning to suck a small bruise into his skin, he sits up suddenly, his hands finding yours and pushing you away gently.

“Wait,” Hyunjin says. “I can’t… do hickeys. Company’s orders,” he admits, a little defeated, and you nod your head quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you remark. “I totally forgot.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin almost cuts you off with a kiss, leaning forward and sitting up on his knees. He guides you down onto the tarp, hoisting himself up over you so that his figure is now hovering over yours, and then his hands find your pants.

“You can do hickeys though,” Hyunjin says in an amused tone, trailing kisses down your neck the same way you did him, and latching his teeth onto your flesh to suck a line of purple bruises. You chuckle underneath him, the sensation tickling a little, but still adding to the generous pool already formed between your legs. And as Hyunjin presses into you with his kisses, you can feel his erection graze your upper thigh, once more seeking the friction of your body for some sense of relief as he longs to feel you around his hardened cock.

“Hyunjin,” you voice as he kisses you, and he hums quietly in response.

“You’re hard,” you remark, your eyes flickering to the tent pitched underneath his jeans.

“Sorry,” he replies, pulling away with a worried expression in his eyes, and you shake your head quickly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure. “I just want to take care of it for you.”

And your hands find your own jeans, pulling them off your legs and tossing them aside. Hyunjin’s eyes skim over your lace panties, the trim almost see through with delicate feminine patterns, and he begins to undo the button of his jeans, too.

He kisses you as he snakes off his own pants, not wanting to separate from you any more as his eagerness grows to be as close to you as possible. And when he’s finally letting his hard cock rub against the fabric of your panties, moaning softly at the sensation, he knows he won’t be able to take it much longer if he doesn’t make love to you right here in the studio.

So his hands work to pull off his boxers, finally freeing his erection against his abdomen and gasping with the cool air grazes the tip of his cock. You slide off your own panties as well, tossing them aside and letting his cock rest against your bare flesh now, his precum painting your clit with his preemptive arousal as he ruts against you. Your flesh is slick with his arousal and yours, the existing lube between both of you allowing your skin to glide upon one another so effortlessly, the same way your lips work against each other. And he continues to push his hardened length against you until he’s halfway inside of you, your cunt taking him with no struggle as he thrusts inside of you now. You adjust to his thick girth easily, his length seemingly never ending as he pushes deeper and deeper into you. And then he gives one particularly hard thrust, bottoming out inside of you and coaxing a fervent moan out of you.

“Is it okay?” Hyunjin asks, wincing at the sensation of your walls hugging his erection.

“So good,” you whine, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Feels so good.”

And he begins to move in and out of you at a slow pace, trying his best to stave off the orgasm he’s already close to reaching as he fucks you, filling your cunt entirely with his long cock and bottoming out every time he thrusts himself back in.

And he tries to kiss you, but he can’t, his mouth simply looming over yours in its parted position as he echoes his moans into you and lets his saliva-coated lips graze over you. He looks like the subject of an erotic painting himself, eyebrows arched up so artistically with every thrust, melting into your touch as you run your hands through his hair. His initial dominance over you is quickly shifted to that of submission to your mind and your body, little whines leaving his lips as he lets you consume him whole and mold him between in your touch, like he’s made of clay and you’re the sculptor. His lanky body seems to extend as he sways his hips into yours, little dips from the pads of your fingers embedding into his pale skin. He folds effortlessly above you, the points of his elbows jutting out as he steadies his body over you, like he’s made of wire and positioned to balance over you so perfectly, not very sturdy, and yet bent and snapped just right so that he can remain glued to you. And if you were to climb out of your body and paint this exact moment, all you would see are an indistinguishable, amorphous set of limbs that seem to dissolve into each other like hues of paint on a palette. Two colors swirling around to make one, the two of you like primary colors that create endless possibilities when mixed together like this, offspring of a hundred different shades, painting the darkened studio around you with your yearning for one another.

And as Hyunjin brings a hand to stroke your cheek gently, a smile grows on his breathless lips as he realizes he’s brushed a thick stroke of wet paint along your skin. The indigo stripe contrasts coldly against your flesh, still glistening in its freshness like he’s just begun on a blank canvas.

“It’s paint,” Hyunjin says as you gasp at the cold sensation, smiling too, when he swipes it again with his thumb and flashes it down at you.

And you chuckle lightly below him, taking note of the bright orange streak that lines his neck, just below his adam’s apple. You’re not sure when it got there, or whether it was from you or him, but you run a finger through it too, bringing it to his cheek to rub your thumb lovingly across his face and paint it there, too. And in one swift motion, Hyunjin swipes the palm of his hand along the tarp, coating it in hues of indigo and deep violet and gray, cupping a hand around your breast to coat it in the same wet substance. And you do the same, your hand dipping generously into the myriad of reds and fuchsia paints that live below you, running a hand down his chest and painting a long stripe along his toned torso.

You both laugh, as he picks up his pace again, pushing himself to the hilt inside of you, the paints melting together with your sweat as he fucks you rhythmically again. And like two blank canvases finally being put to use, new colors blossom between the two of your longing bodies, shades of magenta and blue-gray making themselves known across your breasts and his torso. The colors are vibrant and robust, transferring life from the dull tarp of the studio floor onto blank slates of skin. You wish you could step out of your body and capture the colors forever, mix paints together into little jars and name every shade after every feeling Hyunjin’s ever given you. Longing, lust, fear, fascination, infatuation, obsession.

“I think I’m obsessed with you,” Hyunjin breathes into your mouth so desperately. “It’s indescribable, the things you do to me.”

He lets his hands intertwine with yours again, giving them a small squeeze as he fucks you a little faster now and lets his groans shift into small whimpers that escape his lips.

“Please let me cum inside you,” Hyunjin begs, his cock slipping against your cervix with ease as wettened noises of his arousal pooling against yours fill the room. “Please, please, I promise to take care of you, baby. I feel like I belong here.”

He’s a whimpering mess for you now, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he fucks you and lets his hands explore every inch of your body. You want to cry, too, at the realization again that this all feels so tangible, that he makes you feel so seen when he’s hovering over you, placing open-mouthed kisses onto yours and letting his melodic moans fill your ears. The paint between you serving as proof that he’s touched you so desperately and wholly, creating art together in the confined space of your otherwise dull studio. And you want to feel him cum inside you, too, as a final reminder that you’re visible to him, that you’re no longer a fleeting, anonymous artist when you’re with Hyunjin. That he sees you for exactly you are, he knows your deepest secrets, and yet still he holds you, whispering words of permanence in your ear and letting you mold him like art. He’s an artist on his own, and he’s art at the hands of you, both of which draw you to him in ways you can’t begin to fathom, unlike anything you’ve felt before. And he teaches you that you’re an artist on your own, and art at the hands of a lover, both of which you hadn’t considered before Hyunjin, deeming yourself invisible in your comfortable solitude to the vast world around you. But the two coincide to echo the same sentiment that he teaches you exactly the way he also learns from you.

“Cum inside me,” you breathe desperately, grasping his hands a little tighter as he fucks you at a faster pace now.

“Yeah?” Hyunjin confirms, still staving off his orgasm until your verbal consent is heard.

“Yes,” you respond, wrapping your legs around his waist and making your best attempt to kiss him through his release. And you do, your lips moving against his in labored breaths, as he finally twitches inside of you and paints the inside of your listless body, hues of glazed white arousal filling your aching cunt as he whimpers through his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin, breathes, giving a few more thrusts as he slows, his arousal dripping onto the tarp below you as he pulls out. And he rolls over to lie beside you, a mess of paint streaks sprawled out along his skin as his chest rises and falls with slowing breaths. The two of you say nothing for a moment, your eyes glued to a blank canvas housed on an easel in front of you.

It’s an almost blinding shade of white, begging for an ounce of color like the shades that now live on your skin. And through your heavy breaths, you picture the endless possibilities that can fill in the empty spaces above you. Grasslands, trees, oceans, clear waters and a vast, endless blue sky…

*

There is no overseas schedule Hyunjin has to tend to. You’re already aware of this, Hyunjin explaining to you that he made it up to put the sessions on hold and to keep Q from pressing him with questions.

But he resumes the sessions after a few weeks of putting them on pause, because he can’t seem to stay away from you any longer.

Hyunjin reckons he has a couple dozen of your paintings in his room now, all similar portraits of his face, portraits you capture in your signature formal essence, his face staring straight ahead or off in the distance, complete with the fine details of his long dark hair and the mole under his eye.

Only now that Hyunjin is back, Q is present at nearly every appointment. You’re not sure why things changed, and Q maintains a new stance to Hyunjin that the guidelines are based on adjusted company policies. But Hyunjin will do just about anything to be close to you- even if it means putting up with your obnoxious boss breathing down your neck every minute while you paint him.

The sessions are somehow even more unnerving than they used to be, Hyunjin still making every valiant effort to convey his obsession with you through intense stares and little gestures only the two of you can read. Q is obstinate in his ways, his gaze constantly flickering between you and your paintings to ensure everything is going swimmingly. But Hyunjin wishes so badly he could spend the entirety of these sessions alone with you, getting to break down your walls and see you for the person he knows you are when you’re not doing portraits under Q’s all-seeing eye.

With every passing day, and every passing session, Hyunjin grows a deep hatred for Q, despising the way he watches you work and chimes in to converse with the two of you. And he knows he shouldn’t, aware that Q is just your boss and nothing more. Something you’ve reiterated to him time and time again, but he can’t help it, desperate to have you all to himself every second of the day, a deep-seated longing to protect you from the hurt you’ve been dealt and wanting so badly for you to break free from the monotonous cycle you’ve confined yourself to of painting for anyone except yourself.

You can tell Hyunjin hates Q, judging by the way he doesn’t so much look in his direction when he arrives for his sessions. But you can’t convey the slightest bit of reaction in front of either of them, too scared of the prospect of what would happen to your career if anyone were to find out you’re fucking a client.

You maintain a professional composure around Hyunjin, despite the knowing stares he gives you and the sketches you catch him slipping into your purse when Q isn’t looking. At times he’s not around, you complete your daily tasks, well-mannered and organized to the clients who hire you, shooting them kind smiles and complimenting their black business attire when they show up for the evening. When the days draw to a close, Q is punctual as always, leaving just minutes past your last appointment and taking his work home with him.

And when his sleek black car turns out of the corner of the parking lot, Hyunjin slips inside like a mere shadow on the wall, quick to seduce you all over again and gift you with all of his recent sketches. Some of them are portraits of you, smiling or focused on your work. Some of them are erotic nude shots of you, lying on the tarp of the studio or touching yourself the way he pictures you do when you’re all alone. And some of them include both of you, your bodies tangled desperately into each other and drowning in your yearning and love. Sometimes nude, his hands on yours and fucking you mercilessly. Sometimes fully clothed, his lips on yours and bundled up in winter clothes. But always together, always desperate in your touches and always so tangible. You reckon he’s persuaded you into being fucked you on every surface of the dingy studio by now- against the canvases, on the tarp- several times, on the table Q typically occupies and just about every stool available to the two of you. And while Q is oblivious about why you stay a little longer every night, Hyunjin is both calculated and persuasive in returning so you two can get some time alone, time that always ends with his seed dripping out of your still-aching cunt, bodies entangled somewhere within the studio and covered in fresh swatches of paint.

He may have somewhat of an obsession with you, but life is teeming around the studio when Hyunjin is near, the colors and shapes of your work much more robust and vibrant when he’s striding around the space commenting on all his favorite pieces of yours. And you relish in stories of his days, typically spent at fan events or at dance practices. Having him return feels like having your physical figure return home to you, the world in complete equilibrium when he’s near, much less lonely than the one you’re used to.

“I could watch you do this forever,” Hyunjin remarks, watching you glide a brush along your canvas, filling in the shadows of a figure on the canvas in front of you.

And this one’s not a portrait- it’s a watercolor figure, much like the ones you used to paint back then, the technique coming back to you with ease as you highlight the convexes of a body mirroring yours and add varying hues as highlights.

Per Hyunjin’s request, you paint the figures occasionally, only because he’s repeatedly expressed his fascination at watching you complete the process in a live session. The paintings reminiscent of your old work aren’t for sale, nor are they critiqued by anyone except for yourself. And they’re certainly not done with the knowledge of Q, who would turn irate at you utilizing the studio’s supplies for anything but portraits.

They’re just for his viewing pleasure, a little exchange you indulge him in as he continues to gift you with sketches of his own.

Hyunjin’s arms snake around your waist as you paint, his head resting on your shoulder as he watches you dip your brush into a mug of water and dilute the caramel shade that taints the bristles.

“Will you add a second one?” Hyunjin asks in a curious whisper, his lips grazing your ear as you paint.

“A second one?” You echo.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says, working a trail of kisses down the shell of your ear. “This one’s you. Will you add me?”

You chuckle lightly, dipping your brush into a warmer shade of brown and swirling it around to gather the color on the fine hairs.

“So they can resemble us,” Hyunjin says, his kisses traveling even lower. “Paint me fucking you the way you like it.”

You chuckle softly again, not missing the way Hyunjin’s hands travel to your skirt, flipping it up to graze his hands along the mound of your upper thigh.

“Hyunjin, I-” you begin to say. But you can’t answer him, shutting your eyes in pleasure as you hear him unzip his jeans behind you and position himself.

“Keep painting,” he says in a sultry whisper, pumping himself lightly behind you as he pulls your panties down.

And you try, bringing your brush to the canvas to add a second figure like he’s requested. But you can hardly make it past the first few strokes before Hyunjin’s sliding into your dripping cunt, letting his hands grip your waist to steady himself as he begins to move.

“Go on,” Hyunjin encourages, as his hips thrust in and away from your trembling figure, your hands trying their very best to keep hold of the little wooden paint brush and fill in his form.

You manage to add a subtle few streaks, beginning the amorphous outline of Hyunjin’s hair, his tall lanky figure towering over yours and taking you with such desperation.

But you don’t get very far before Hyunjin is angling your face to kiss your drooly lips, his hands now finding purchase on your breasts as he continues to fuck you. And all of this is wrong, you know very well. You’re not supposed to be sleeping with a client like this, much less one this powerful, this rich and who wields so much he can hold against you. One slip up and Hyunjin can go tell the world about how you’re the artist who disappeared to sell yourself out to rich men for all their selfish needs. And any option you have to defend yourself would never hold up against his wealthy corporation and all its investors.

But you also can’t help but give into his urges when he’s around, his lips so tantalizing on yours and his cock filling you so fully and completely when he has his way with you.

Maybe it’s not even just about the sex for you- maybe it also has something to do with his stories you live through vicariously, listening to tales of the outside world while you’re trapped in this studio or at the businesses of wealthy men. It’s also the drawings he makes for you, ones you find yourself staring at for hours after he leaves, like proof that he was here and he touched you. The drawings are you in your most tangible form, his hands on yours and his lips on the curves of your neck. It’s like a glimpse into a version of yourself that ceases to exist when he’s absent. And it’s the late hours of the night he spends asking so politely to watch you paint your older work, always so fascinated with the way your mind conjures up varying lonely figures crafted from watercolors and a nylon bristle brush. Older work you hadn’t realized you missed so dearly until you began producing it for Hyunjin again.

But you know that to Hyunjin this is just a exhilarating idea for him, to view your art the same way he carves out a couple hours each week for a museum tour or to sketch in one of his books. He probably finds it more convenient to fuck you here where nobody’s around than to stroke himself in a dorm he shares with three other men. And you can feel it in the way he so desperately pleads you to paint for him or cum for him- that his obsession with you is less about you, and more about the thought of you.

Maybe this is just the result of Hyunjin uncovering a secret nobody else paid close enough attention to connect you to. Or the thrill of you being his favorite artist for years, and realizing you’re finally tangible in front of him, real, and not disappeared like he previously took you for. You reckon it must be the same phenomenon other girls feel toward him, getting intimate with somebody they idolize, desperately cupping his face like it might dissipate if they don’t grasp hard enough. But just the thought of somebody doesn’t imply love. It doesn’t imply a mutual understanding, and it certainly doesn’t imply permanence for either party involved. When he’s gone again, you’ll cease to be real like you already are when he’s not around. And then every vision you have will be rooted in unfaltering solitude once more, your anonymous life resuming again.

“Will you cum for me?” Hyunjin asks, and you snap back to the feeling of his cock twitching in your dripping cunt as he grips your waist. “God, you don’t understand what you do to me.”

You can’t give him an answer before you feel him reaching his release inside of you, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into you and slowing his pace again as he moves your hair away from your face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Hyunjin says sheepishly as he pulls out. “Sit down for me,” he orders between kisses to your neck, trailing down to your shoulder, grazing his hands along your waist and groaning against you.

And he’s already guiding you back to one of the stools, kneeling between your legs and spreading you for him, your glistening cunt on full display for him to taste.

“Want you to cum for me,” Hyunjin whispers, before positioning one of your legs on the wooden dowels of the stool. You can’t verbalize anything to him before his tongue is darting into your entrance, lapping his own release out of you and trailing up to give attention to your swollen clit. He works you in such desperate motions, tongue working your core like a starved animal and eagerly trying to coax an orgasm out of your trembling body. When his arousal is effectively brought out of your tight cunt and painting the tip of his tongue white, he coats your clit in it, giving kitten licks to your bundle of nerves as he hums against your flesh and whispers little pleas for you to let go.

And between your pussy still clenching down around the sheer memory of his cock inside of you mere minutes ago, and his plump lips kissing all over your wettened core, you do let go for him, dribbling cum down the edge of the wooden stool and threading your fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down to your thighs in encouragement.

“So good,” Hyunjin murmurs as he comes up for air, intertwining his fingers in yours as you get cleaned up. You shoot him a little “thank you”, and Hyunjin presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand as he nods, getting dressed once more and tucking his softened cock back into his boxers.

“Come here,” he states. “I want to ask you something.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“It’s exciting,” Hyunjin retorts.

He guides you to his same wooden stool, where he climbs upon the seat and then takes your hands in his again as you stand in front of him, pressing a small kiss to your palm before speaking.

“You know I care about you, right?” He begins, his eyebrows raised curiously.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you reply.

“And you know I love your art.”

“So you’ve told me,” you say, and Hyunjin brings your hand up to press another kiss to your palm.

“I have a proposal for you,” he then says. “And I just want you to hear me out.”

Your heart sinks at his words, already fearing the worst as you wait for him to elaborate. You pray he hasn’t done anything to reveal your identity, or to make these secret erotic sessions public, knowing you’d both never live a normal life again at either of the instances occurring.

“What is it?” You ask Hyunjin, heart racing in your chest.

He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand soothingly, trying to calm you down before he speaks.

“I privately sponsor the art gallery every year,” he begins. “I put some funding toward a painting of my choice and it allows those artists to have their pieces displayed for the winter show and make connections,” he continues.

“Okay…”

“And I want to sponsor you this year,” Hyunjin finishes, giving your hands a little squeeze.

“Hyunjin, there can't be an installment of your face at the art museum. People will get suspicious.”

“Not my face,” he says reassuringly. “Your art. Like the ones you used to do.”

And you feel your throat dry up at his words, the exact thing you’d feared coming to fruition.

“I can’t,” you’re quick to say.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t do those paintings anymore. I can paint you, or another person or whoever. But I can’t do one of my old ones.”

“But your old ones are beautiful,” Hyunjin says. “It doesn’t have to be your old series. You can start a new one. Do something entirely different.”

“I don’t want to do something entirely different, Hyunjin. It’s a chapter of my life that’s been closed already. You know I don’t do those anymore.”

Hyunjin maintains his collected composure, his eyes softening as he speaks to you.

“You’re not happy doing portraits. I know you. You have a spark in you when you’re painting for yourself, and people love them. You deserve to be doing what you love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, letting go of Hyunjin’s grasp and shaking your head. “I’m so grateful for the offer, but I can’t put myself back out there again.”

“You can still be anonymous,” Hyunjin offers. “Some artists I’ve sponsored choose to remain anonymous and only reveal to serious patrons of their art. I can make sure they don’t find out who you are.”

“It’s me and my art I don’t want to be seen,” you emphasize.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything now, rising from the wooden stool and reaching for the iced coffee he’s placed on the table beside you.

“Okay. I won’t press it any further.”

He swirls the cup of ice around in his hand, and then he hangs his head in defeat.

“Hyunjin, seriously. Thank you for the offer. It’s sweet of you to consider it. But I’m not ready yet.”

He shoves a hand in his pocket and cocks his head slightly.

“Is this because of Quinton?”

“What? Hyunjin, I already told you our relationship is strictly professional-”

“Not romantically,” Hyunjin continues. “You’re like a slave to him. You do everything he tells you to do. He probably doesn’t let you leave this studio.

You’re quiet again, not answering him immediately. No, you don’t stay here at Q’s behest. But it just feels safer to follow his advice. He was just a client when you met him, but he took you under his wing to get you where you are now. He runs all your schedules, he books your appointments for you, he even gives his say on most of your work. He’s the only part of your old life that’s remained the same, despite your transition to portraits, and cutting him off would be stepping into a world completely unbeknownst to you.

“No,” you say finally, but you don’t expand further upon your stance.

“You’re so lonely here,” Hyunjin responds frustratedly. “And yet you follow orders from the same person whose job it is to keep you invisible.”

“Why should I follow your orders?” You retort.

“Because I love you.”

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you reply frustratedly, finally feeling the anger overtake you as you continue your angered speech. “You love the idea of me. You love the idea of escaping your crazy rich life to try and resolve the tortured artist you’re so infatuated with. You love the idea of fulfilling somebody’s life with your presence because it’s all you do for a career. I’m not the person I was when I was doing those paintings- I do portraits now, and I work under somebody who knows what’s best for me. And you’re just a client I’m sleeping with.”

Hyunjin purses his lips, amused you would stoop that low for the purposes of declining his offer. And then he shakes his head as he speaks again.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I’m just some client you’re sleeping with. I never tried to push you out of this line of work you hate so much, or drew you on every page of my sketch book or made love to you in every square inch of this goddamn studio. I’m not proposing this because I care about you and I want you to do what you love, it’s because I’m just a client you’re sleeping with.”

And he pivots on his heel to exit the studio, taking rushed steps toward the door as tears brim the corners of your eyes.

“Hyunjin, wait,” you call desperately.

“I see you,” Hyunjin says suddenly, turning around to face you. “I see all of you. Your work didn’t just materialize by some anonymous form. You’re a painter, a really talented one, and I don’t want you to feel this all-consuming solitude anymore. I say that because I love you, not just because I’m sleeping with you. If you want to remain invisible to everybody except Quinton, then be my guest. Just know that I tried.”

And without another word, the studio is empty again, the tip of your brush still dripping with the remnants of the warm brown color and every intention to add a second figure to your painting.

*

You don’t speak with Hyunjin any more that evening. Or the next day. Or perhaps for a whole week following the conversation, for that matter. The reality is that you want to partake in his offer, the thought of it candidly piquing your interest to paint something other than another rich man. And it would be nice to watch your art be displayed for people to see just once, rather than to live on the walls of a company where only people within a certain tax bracket will ever grace your work. But what you reiterated to Hyunjin still stands- you’re scared to venture out into the competitive world of art galleries again. Your old series was a hit, sure, but it was also torn down relentlessly by those who didn’t understand it and those who simplified it down to its medium. And it was a much harder endeavor to make people understand your watercolor forms, unlike the portraits Q advises you continue producing.

But you can’t seem to stop thinking of Hyunjin’s proposal as a whole, understanding very well that his offer is one of the kindest things he could propose to you at this place in your life. He sees you- all of you, and subsequently he knows that you’re unhappy in this monotonous abyss of adding new features to the same faces every day. The way a change for you is determined only by a shift in a client’s pose or even just an addition of their pet- it’s all so repetitive, exactly what art isn’t supposed to be.

Maybe you’re just scared of getting rejected again, or perhaps it’s that you’re scared of finally being seen again, anonymous or not, putting yourself on the map again and being perceived.

*

“I want a painting,” Hyunjin says as he saunters into the studio one evening, throwing off his bag and dragging a stool to the middle of the room.

“Oh- Hyunjin, pleased to see you again,” Q remarks, bowing and giving you a nervous look.

Hyunjin doesn’t even acknowledge him, keeping a stern gaze locked on yours as if he’s challenging you.

“We have the evening booked today,” Q begins. “But I’m sure we can accommodate something for next week-”

“I need it now,” Hyunjin replies. “I’m willing to pay five times your asking price.”

And you narrow your eyes at Hyunjin, knowing he’s making his best attempt to provoke you and disrupt the work you’re completing per Q’s orders.

“How do you want it?” Q then asks, not hesitating to put aside your entire evening for Hyunjin’s offer.

“I want to be in a suit. And I want to be holding a wad of cash. I want to look like an investor.”

“Interesting,” Q says, his gaze flickering to yours. “She can do it though.”

Q turns to face you, giving you a knowing look as he raises his eyebrows. “I’ll clear your calendar for today and we can stay and work on this piece.”

And Hyunjin looks to you, too, waiting for you to protest, to say something along the lines of a refusal to partake in the outlandish task. But you avert both of their gazes, readying your paint palette and gesturing to one of the stools in front of you.

“Have a seat,” you say plainly, void of any emotion or desire to fulfill the task. And by the way Q hovers over you, void of autonomy, too, Hyunjin concludes.

“How are things at the company?” Q asks Hyunjin, leaning in a little too close to you as you begin painting long strokes on the canvas.

“Fine,” Hyunjin says, not taking his gaze off yours. His eyes are narrowed like he’s challenging you, yet you don’t give him the reaction he searches for.

“You must be busy,” Q remarks, his hands folded behind his back. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you here.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure you’re running her schedule like the fucking military,” Hyunjin retorts, cocking an eyebrow at him. Q takes a sharp breath, but he doesn’t argue, doing his best to keep in line at your highest-paying client.

“She’s pretty busy,” Q replies reluctantly. “But it’s nothing she can’t handle.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, again waiting for you to chime in, but you still don’t, working on adding details to Hyunjin’s tresses on the canvas.

“This will be my final session,” Hyunjin then says, and your head snaps to meet his gaze.

“Is that so?” Q questions. “Going overseas again?”

“Indefinitely,” Hyunjin replies. “Not overseas, I’ve just no need for the paintings anymore.”

Your lips part as though to ask if he’s serious, but you can’t, not with Q here alongside you.

“I have so many of them now,” Hyunjin remarks, not taking his eyes off you. “It’s been a lovely time with the two of you, but I won’t be returning after this evening. I hope you understand.”

“Please don’t hesitate to reach out if there’s anything we can provide you with,” Q voices. “I hope we’ll remain connected with the peers at your company.”

“Oh, you will,” Hyunjin replies. “I’m sure the investors and the senior managers will love portraits of their own. She’ll have a lifetime of portraits to complete when I’m gone.”

You can feel a pit forming in your stomach, queasy at the thought of carrying on this task of capturing rich businessmen and ceasing your sessions with Hyunjin. He’s unmoving in his attempts to make you revisit your old art. But his begging has also been eye-opening, making you realize just how much you hate this line of work and having Q breathe down your neck.

Hyunjin has a point, you’re unhappy doing portraits. You love the watercolor figures you paint, you love your time with Hyunjin and the feeling of unending curiosity he instills in you. There’s no solitude when he’s around, filling every aspect of your life with such color and vibrancy like the figures you paint. And you learn from him just as much as he learns from you.

But the fear remains, the feeling of hopelessness remains, the perception that Hyunjin is only obsessed with an idea of you and that your career is far gone from the watercolor figures you painted so long ago.

And of course, that you require Q’s uncompromising presence in your life to be even close to successful. He’s the one who transitioned you to a successful career of portraits after your previous line of work fell through. And you’re not sure you can shift to a new focus without him to guide you.

“Hyunjin,” you say suddenly, garnering the attention of both he and Q.

“What is it?” Q replies, as though you’re referring to him. And you wish he wouldn’t be so… disruptive, making you lose your train of thought as Hyunjin waits for your words with bated breath.

“I’ve completed the initial outline,” you settle on saying. “It should be sent over to you in a couple days.”

And he nods, a somber, thin-lipped expression on his face as he understands you’re never going to divert from this path of fear you walk, one you’re forcing yourself to stick to.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin responds, getting up to leave again. “I’ll see you around.”

*

Private events are seldom actually private for Hyunjin. The interior of the gallery is organized accordingly so that patrons can mingle with their respective artists and all of the prestigious guests invited.

But the exterior is only private up the crowd control stanchions, where beyond it live hordes of people wielding all sorts of fancy cameras and cell phones, snapping photo after photo and analyzing every one of Hyunjin’s movements.

Hyunjin’s attending an art gallery today, the crowds murmur amongst each other, the message echoing all over the city and overshadowing the art itself, which hasn’t even been unveiled yet.

His departure from the black limousine he arrives in is met instantly with deafening screams, the repetitive click of camera shutters and commands for him to angle his face every which way. The people stop to stare at his fitted black suit, the long black hair he sports styled slick out of his face and expensive jewelry he flaunts as a clear indicator that he’s a sponsor of the evening’s show, alongside a long list of other wealthy individuals.

His hands remain tucked in the pockets of his black slacks, giving a gracious bow to the fans before making his way inside to the main event.

And the gallery is significantly more packed than he’s used to, people crowding every square inch of the marbled floors and admiring the intricate pieces of art. The curtains are pulled back neatly so that guests can roam freely among the halls, easels set up in neat rows and canvases mounted on walls to display all the sponsored works of art.

Hyunjin is quick to gravitate to the long white table pushed against the wall by the entrance, set up with generous servings of hors d’oeuvres. And in a bout of nervousness, he’s sampling the cheese platters and the varying flavors of wine, sighing as he swirls a glass of cherry merlot between his slender fingers.

He was supposed to be here sponsoring you tonight, unveiling your paintings for the world to appreciate once again, and so that he’d finally put forth the notion that you’re more than the halls of law offices your portraits exist in.

But that was three weeks ago now- three weeks in which Hyunjin failed to visit you like he’d warned he would. And three weeks in which neither of you reconnected, letting the temporary affair between you dissipate like the sketches he stopped producing of you, like the portraits he finished collecting from you. And like the hope he held onto that maybe you’d come around and entertain a life in which you aren’t so comfortable being invisible and inhibited at the hands of your Q. But that never came around, and although Hyunjin is frustrated with you, he misses you just as much, knowing very well he could spend a lifetime learning from you if only you let him. Now in the gallery he once dragged you to, where he admitted to having learned the secret you hid, he can only pray you know that he sees you for who you are, and not some invisible producer of your static portraits. That a life lived in complete solitude doesn’t have to be the answer to succumbing to your fears, even if it feels more comfortable than the perception and the critiques of others. And that although the idea of you was a lovely one indeed, he loves every part of you, not just the concept of you- and pushing you to grow was his way of making it known.

The gallery hosts are quick to introduce the paintings and their respective sponsors, a variety of them being under anonymous titles and names as they choose to remain hidden, too. But Hyunjin doesn’t wait around to listen to much of it, examining the paintings on his own in between nervous trips to the snack table, where he gets tipsy off a little too much cherry wine. It’s his first time not being a sponsor to a specific painting, instead having opted to donate a large sum to the gallery in his company’s name. But after you declined his invitation to be sponsored, Hyunjin didn’t see it fit to highlight the work of any other painting. It’s you he wants to see up there, proudly showing off your work and making a name for yourself in the industry again the way he knows you secretly want to. And he so badly wishes he could stop by your studio one last time to tell you that he’s not sure he can ever sponsor another painting again if it’s not one of yours. Your art circles his mind relentlessly, as do your words, your heart, your body and your real, tangible presence.

“Nice, isn’t it?” A voice says from beside Hyunjin. He almost jumps, the wine making him a little tired at this point in the evening, not having socialized with many people while he stands in the corner of the room and takes in the sight.

“Quinton?” Hyunjin voices plainly, scowling at his uptight demeanor as he leans against the table beside Hyunjin and crosses his legs.

“So nice to see our former highest-painting client,” Q responds. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve never seen you at one of these,” Hyunjin chimes in. He then looks around the room frantically, thinking maybe you’d accompanied him to the event tonight.

“Don’t bother,” Q says, as he takes a sip of wine. “I’m alone. Just scoping out the competition.”

He’s quiet for a moment, swirling his glass of wine around in his hand before speaking again.

“She never had a portrait at one of these gallery shows. Said they felt too commercial. Of course her old stuff was shown just about everywhere. I think she was just scared.”

“You mean- you knew?” Hyunjin questions.

“Of course I knew. I led her career’s entire rebranding. Of course she didn’t love the portraits, but the money came to us like you wouldn’t believe. And coupled with her fear of these gallery walks and important figures, we had no choice but to compromise. I got her the opportunity to paint people like you. And she did all the work.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, simply shaking his head and crossing his legs, too.

“She had a lot of people who believed in her art.”

Q shrugs. “She was free to walk whenever she wanted. Her fear kept her controlled, not me. I’m just another businessman for all she cares.”

And Hyunjin gives a small nod, finishing the last of his wine.

“Look, I can’t help but feel like I owe you an apology,” Hyunjin says finally. “I was just a little jealous whenever you were around. Not that there was anything going on, I just mean-”

“You think you’re the first client to have taken a liking to her?” Q interrupts. “I’ve seen it a million times. People want to take advantage and they get obsessed, and they start pulling crazy shit like offering five times the pay for a simple portrait.”

Q looks down to examine his leather shoes, adjusting the glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose. And then he sighs frustratedly before speaking again.

“I would know,” Q then says, doing his best to avert Hyunjin’s gaze. “She’s a tough one to crack. She loves her paintings, and being alone and I don’t think she’d ever give the time of day to a good man. Not even if he followed her to her next endeavor.”

Hyunjin nods at the marbled floor, and then his head snaps in the direction of Q’s somber gaze.

The way he speaks of you, the way he gets a little too close to you for Hyunjin’s liking- Hyunjin finally thinks he understands. It’s not just the fear of being perceived that keeps you from picking up your old life again. It’s the fear of abandoning Q, who so arrogantly feels like he’s owed something for helping get you back on your feet after you shifted your work’s focus.

He’s the only other person who knows your secret, and he holds it over you like it makes him more important than anyone else in your life. He reduces you to a lifetime of following his orders, likely because he’s bitter that he was never the solution to your loneliness. A wealthy businessman himself, it was Q who kept returning for paintings once not long ago, accumulating piles of your work and making every last effort to pursue you. But when he wasn’t successful, he convinced you that you were right about your fears, that it was your best move to take his advice and he’d keep you turning a generous profit as long as you stuck by him. Q was so hopelessly devoted to an idea of you, and when he couldn’t help you overcome your fears, he became the catalyst for your fears, instead.

“You and I are a lot of the same,” Q voices. “Two rich men with dreams just out of our reach. It seems money can’t buy you everything, after all.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, swallowing nervously and looking at Q. And then Q shakes his head as he sets his glass of wine down on the table.

“Only I’ve never seen her willingly paint the same client so many times the way she does with you,” he finishes. “I guess she really liked being seen, after all.”

Q adjusts his glasses once more, and Hyunjin feels his heart sink at Q’s words, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly guilty for not having contacted you again.

“Could you tell her I stopped by?” Hyunjin inquires.

“Me? Oh no,” Q begins. “I can’t get in contact with her. No one can.”

“You- what? What do you mean?”

“Exactly that,” Q responds. “She told me she was done, and she walked out on me with a single watercolor palette and a notepad. She didn’t say anything else.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Hyunjin interrupts to ask, and Q shakes his head.

“She just left, and it’s been almost a month and she’s still MIA. Maybe she’ll come crawling back when she needs another rebranding.”

Hyunjin can feel his heart sinking deeper and deeper with every passing word that leaves Q’s lips.

He’s tried your cell phone- twice since leaving, and you never answered. But he assumed it to be a fleeting argument that would eventually make amends in due time when he could stomach visiting the studio again- not you running away from all of this for good.

“I have to go,” Hyunjin says frantically, chugging the rest of his wine and slamming his glass on the table.

“It was me who found her the first time,” Q says, not taking his eyes off the art across the room.

“What?”

“It was me who chased after her. After she disappeared. Don’t be surprised if she shuts you out when you finally do find her- I think I’ve already scarred her enough with my relentless attempts at persuasion.”

Hyunjin nods nervously, watching as Q cocks his head at the art, still averting Hyunjin’s gaze. And when he finally does turn to look at him, his eyes are glossy with tears, guilt painting every feature on his face.

“Could you just tell her I’m sorry?”

Hyunjin nods, though he makes no verbal promise to relay the message to you.

“Don’t do what I did,” Q emphasizes. “I think you’re the one person who makes her feel like art, herself. Don’t ruin this.”

*

“I forgot my ID today,” Hyunjin remarks to the security guard in the late hours of the evening. He’s met with a gracious bow, the same security guard opening the door and ushering him inside anyway.

“Don’t worry about it. Take as long as you need.”

The security guards all know Hyunjin very well now, taking note of the way his visits increased tenfold following your departure from the city.

At first he felt as though maybe he was searching for you when he’d come out here, any ounce of proof that you had indeed existed the way he remembered, and hopeful for the confirmation that you moved on to something new.

But as paintings cycled through their respective artists, and exhibits cycled through varying themes, it was a confirmation he never received, never finding a hint of you among the gallery. Thus, Hyunjin drew the hopeful conclusion that you’d escaped to a nicer city, worked on your old paintings again and made a new life for yourself, independently instead of under the overbearing presence of any other man. It’s what he wishes, at least, feeling disheartened every time he remembers you’ve very seldom lived any part of your professional career for yourself only.

The gallery is quiet at this hour, akin to the silent gray evening beyond its walls, and Hyunjin’s shoes squeak along the floors as he makes his way over to the curtains that veil the artwork.

New sculptures, by the same artist who had formed the paper mache ones. These ones are formed from wire and clay, the figures once again embracing each other in tender touches and dances. Hyunjin studies every careful bend and arch, making a mental note to sketch some of them when he gets a chance.

Another room houses a similar spread of modern art from before, these ones all coinciding with the warm lighting that hangs overhead, strokes along the canvases all housing similar warm-toned hues. He knows you’d love this installment and its careful attention to making use of color.

And the last room, the same little room behind a curtain, a small bench in front of a colossal canvas and just barely lit for his eyes to make out the scene.

Hyunjin’s seated before he can even examine the artwork, squinting carefully at the painting to get a better look. He even makes a conscious decision to put on his black frame glasses, making every attempt to get a proper look at the artwork in front of him.

Diluted hues of paint and water dance along the canvas, figured outlines he’s very familiar with, and the essence of solitude radiating from every brush stroke. Only this one isn’t one figure- it’s two, a warm-toned figure and a cool-toned outline holding each other in a tender embrace, their faces indistinguishable, true to the mystery of your work.

And between them, bright hues of paint, yellows, blues, magentas, fantastic mixtures of chartreuse and vermillion, all painted like brush strokes along their yearning bodies and illustrating a profound sense of togetherness, much more robust than the ever-present solitude.

“Visions of you in solitude,” reads the small bronze beneath the canvas.

As he cocks his head to make sense of the painting, he feels the leather of the bench dip beside him, indicating the presence of another patron. And at this hour, he doesn’t need to turn his head to understand who it is.

“There’s two,” Hyunjin says with a small smile, not averting his gaze from the painting.

“It felt incomplete without one.”

“Is that…”

“You?” You question quietly.

He nods in response, eyes scanning the swatches of paint between their bodies. It has to be me, he thinks. It has to be us.

“Maybe it is,” you reply. “I don’t disclose my processes to just about anyone. But you’re welcome to make your assumptions how you see fit.”

Hyunjin gives a breathy chuckle, finally turning to meet your gaze.

You look lighter- happier, as though you have the weight of your fears and reservations off your shoulders for once. Hyunjin can’t help but lean a little closer into you before stopping himself, knowing he can’t come in here to mirror the same thing Q once did long ago.

“You’re doing galleries,” he settles on saying.

“And they scare the hell out of me,” you respond, huffing a little at the end of your sentence. “But, it is nice to be seen again.”

He gives a little nod, and then his mind goes back to Q, who had asked to relay his version of an apology to you. But Hyunjin hesitates to speak of him, not wanting to taint your new art with the mentions of the old businessmen who took advantage of you.

“I’d have kept my distance if I knew how this went down the first time,” Hyunjin explains, hoping you’ll get what he implies. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to shift your focus. I just wanted you to be happy.”

You sigh for a moment, scanning the painting across from you, too, before turning to speak to him once more.

“Of all the clients I’ve painted, you were the first to ask about my vision. I think you do see me. And I think it was easier to say you loved an idea of me, because I couldn’t understand why you’d love any other part.”

Hyunjin nods, not taking his eyes off of yours.

“I learn from you the same way you learned from me,” you continue. “And you make me feel so seen. But I’m learning how to do that without needing you, too. Getting comfortable with my loneliness, I don’t think it’s something I was able to practice very much. At least not with…”

Hyunjin nods, not needing to hear Q’s name to know who you speak of.

“I understand,” Hyunjin voices. “And I want you to take all the time that you need. What matters is that you feel fulfilled, and that you’re not being pushed at the hands of somebody else. That’s more than enough for me to love you at a distance.”

And you nod at him, your heart swelling at his words as he turns to look back at the painting once more. The two of you stay there like that for several minutes, observing the way you’ve so carefully captured the togetherness you feel when you’re beside him. Swatches of paints that echo the color he brings into your life, and yet rooted in the solitude you’re still learning to be comfortable with. Visions of him in your own solitude, also creating a version of yourself that will continue to learn from him as much as he learns from you. And still art at the hands of him, both when you’re loving him wholly, and at this comfortable distance from each other.

And by the summer months, he’ll love you at a close proximity when you’re ready again, exchanging passionate embraces behind the curtains at galleries and making love to you in your shared apartment. He’ll continue to draw for you, and remain the biggest fan of the two-piece figures you illustrate with watercolors, capturing the same sense of togetherness and yet unwavering solitude that comes with breaking yourself down to the world around you. And the love will be reciprocated unconditionally by you, who finally feels seen at the hands of somebody who perceives you beyond just a concept.

But for now, he’ll remain right here, at this comfortable distance, allowing himself to learn from you as much as you learn from him. And the love will be undemanding, but it will be real, tangible.

[ ᴛᴀɢs: @drhsthl , @straykeedz-recs , @caitlyn98s , @moonlinos , @cottonsthings , @jaykyo , @write143 , @pinkcinnamon444 , @maximumkillshot , @auraleeknow , @skzms @coastalmaine , @venomracha , @lmhcats , @felinows , @maexc , @kang-min-joo , @liinoracha , @sealovesbts , @hanniessleepyeyes , @hyunjinsamdl , @chans1aptop , @yomomma104 , @sheraall , @kbbok , @silentreadersthings , @beomkgyu , @diorrxluvskz , @dancerachaslut , @jeannie-beannie , @heeseungshim , @weareapackofstrays , @bethanysnow , @inlovewithmusician , @kite-lee , @heartheartisa , @katsukis1wife , @minhosbitterriver , @y-ur--i , @seung-mine , @sskzlover , @bomi-ja , @crisle19 , @binniesbang , @leritzreyw , @lixiesundrop , @chopchopslide-juggalo , @vsereniasstuff , @morethancupcake , @fun-fanfics , @awillowbent , @unstiqn , @lixiesfairygf ]

add yourself to the tag list here.

when hyunjin kept looking at her even when there was another girl tangled up w him 😫 HES DEF IN LOVE 💔💔💔💔💔💔 waiting for chapter 4!! THIS WAS SO GOOD I WAS TWRILING MY FEET WHILE READING 😭

CAM.

CHAPTER III

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

CAM MASTERLIST

Synopsis: Struggling to make ends meet as an art student, Hyunjin never expected his quiet neighbor to change everything. Rumored to be an adult content creator, you offer him a deal—help you with your content, and you’ll help with his financial troubles. What starts as a simple arrangement soon blurs into something more, pulling Hyunjin into a world he never imagined. (20,4k words)

Author's note: Thank you for patiently waiting for this new chapter. Hope it's worth the wait and I'd really appreciate it if you leave a feedback ♡

As you sit among the wedding guests, watching your friend standing at the altar, exchanging vows with the love of their life, a thought sneaks into your mind—will your future hold this too? The idea has never been something you actively pursued, but right now, surrounded by soft music and heartfelt promises, you can't help but wonder.

Would you ever be standing there, looking at someone with that same certainty, the same devotion in your eyes?

And then, without meaning to, your thoughts shift to Hyunjin.

It’s fleeting, just a passing thought, but it lingers in a way that makes you shift in your seat. The image of him flashes in your mind—his dark hair falling over his eyes, the way he looked at you during your last shoot together, the soft, almost nervous way he handed you those flowers this morning.

You exhale, shaking your head at yourself.

“Everything okay?” Felix whispers beside you, leaning in slightly.

You blink, turning to him with a small smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He grins. “About me?”

You chuckle, nudging him lightly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Felix laughs, and just like that, the moment passes. You shift your focus back on the wedding ceremony, pushing away the strange feeling that came with the thought of Hyunjin. At least for now.

-

The wedding tent is crowded with guests and the warm glow of string lights making everything feel just a little more magical. You’re sipping on your drink, enjoying the sight of your friend beaming with happiness when Felix suddenly tugs on your wrist.

“Come on,” he says, grinning.

You raise an eyebrow. “Come on where?”

He nods toward the dance floor, where couples sway to a slow, romantic tune. “You didn’t get all dressed up just to sit around all night, did you?”

You hesitate for a second, but the way he’s looking at you—his eyes twinkling with mischief and he's holding his hand out at you—makes it hard to say no.

With a small sigh, you set your drink down and let him pull you onto the dance floor. His hand slides easily around your waist, yours resting on his shoulder as the two of you begin to sway.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice just above a whisper, “I wasn’t lying earlier.”

You glance up at him, confused. “About what?”

He grins. “About you looking beautiful tonight.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You’ve said that at least three times already.”

“Because it’s true,” he says, spinning you gently before pulling you back into him. “And I think I’ll say it again—because you look stunning.”

You shake your head with a soft chuckle, but a warmth spreads through your chest at his words.

The song continues, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy it. The feeling of being twirled under the lights, the warmth of Felix’s hand in yours, the laughter shared between the two of you—it’s easy. Fun.

And yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you catch yourself wondering—if it were Hyunjin standing here instead, would it feel different? You push the thought away and let Felix pull you closer, deciding to just enjoy the moment for what it is.

As the song fades into the next, you and Felix slow to a stop, still laughing softly from your little dance. Before either of you can say anything, your friend—the bride herself—comes rushing up to you, her face glowing with happiness.

“You came!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug.

You chuckle, hugging her back. “Of course, I did. I wouldn’t miss your big day.”

She pulls away, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “It really means a lot. And—” Her gaze shifts to Felix, who stands beside you with a polite smile. “—oh my God, is this your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widen, and Felix lets out a soft laugh. “Ah—”

Before either of you can correct her, she clasps her hands together, looking absolutely delighted. “He’s so handsome! You two look amazing together. I swear, you’re next—soon, we’ll be celebrating your wedding, too!”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Wait—”

But before you can get another word in, someone calls for her from across the reception, and she gasps. “I have to go! But seriously, I’m so happy for you two.” With that, she hurries off, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded.

Felix lets out a short, amused laugh before looking at you. “Well… that was unexpected.”

You turn to him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wildly unexpected.”

And then, at the same time, both of you burst into laughter. The ridiculousness of the situation is too much, and for a moment, you’re just caught up in the humor of it all.

“I mean, who would even want to marry someone like me?” you joke, half expecting Felix to roll his eyes or tease you in return.

But instead, without hesitation, he raises his hand. “Me.”

Your laughter dies in your throat as you look at him, caught completely off guard. “What?”

Felix grins, playful as always, but there’s something else in his gaze—something steady, certain. “I’d marry you.”

For a moment, you don’t know what to say. You search his face, trying to gauge if he’s just messing with you, but he looks oddly serious beneath the playful facade.

“Felix…” you start, unsure of what you’re even about to say.

He shrugs, effortlessly casual. “You should be saying who wouldn’t want to marry you. I mean, you’re incredible.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creep up your neck. “You’re just saying that.”

He tilts his head. “Am I?”

You don’t know why, but the way he says it makes your stomach flutter just a little. You quickly shake it off with a laugh. “Alright. Time to get more drinks.”

Felix chuckles, letting you change the subject, but as you two make your way back to the bar, you can’t help but feeling a little hopeful that maybe your future hold this too.

-

Felix pulls up in front of your apartment building, shifting the car into park but leaving the engine running. You glance outside, noting the quiet stillness of the night, before turning back to him with a soft smile.

“Thanks for today,” you say sincerely. “I really had fun.”

Felix smiles back, but then he exhales a long sigh, tilting his head back against the headrest. “This is bad,” he mutters.

You frown. “What is?”

He turns to look at you, his expression unreadable. “I don’t think I want to do the collab anymore.”

His words catch you off guard. You blink at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke. “Why?”

Felix hesitates for a second, then chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if amused by himself. “Because now… I am more interested to be more than just that.”

Felix doesn’t break eye contact, his usual playful demeanor softened by something more genuine, more serious. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

You smile at his words, choosing not to respond directly. Instead, you reach for the door handle and glance at him one last time.

“Drive safely, okay?” you say softly.

Before you can step out, Felix gently reaches for you, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilts your face toward him. Your breath catches for just a second before he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

When he pulls back, his eyes hold yours, something unspoken passing between you. “Goodnight,” he murmurs.

You hesitate for only a moment before replying, “Goodnight, Felix.”

Then, without another word, you step out of the car, closing the door behind you. As you walk toward your building, you can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin.

You step into your apartment, closing the door behind you with a quiet sigh. As you slip off your shoes, your eyes immediately land on the vase of flowers sitting on the counter.

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at them. With everything that happened today—the wedding, Felix, his words—you haven’t had the time to really appreciate them.

Slowly, you walk up to the vase, reaching out to touch the petals with delicate fingers. The flowers are fresh, carefully chosen, and arranged with thoughtfulness. Hyunjin must have picked them while thinking of you.

The realization brings a soft warmth to your chest. You brush your fingertips over the petals, admiring the mix of colors and how gentle they feel under your touch.

Hyunjin didn’t have to do this, but he did and for some reason, that lingers in your mind longer than it should.

-

Hyunjin stirs awake to the sound of his phone buzzing against his nightstand. Groggy, he blindly reaches for it, squinting at the screen before answering.

"Hello?" His voice is rough with sleep.

"Come over for breakfast," you say, your voice light and easy, as if this is something you do all the time.

He rubs the sleep off his eyes. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Or else I’ll eat everything myself," you tease before hanging up, leaving no room for protest.

Hyunjin exhales a soft chuckle, tossing his phone aside before dragging himself up into a sitting position. He rubs his face, then runs a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes drift across the room until they land on the canvas propped against the wall.

It’s another painting of you—one he worked on late into the night. In the dim morning light, he takes it in. The colors, the soft edges of your features, the way his brush captured you so naturally, like second nature.

Hyunjin exhales, shaking his head at himself. He doesn’t know what to do with all these paintings of you. But for now, breakfast awaits.

He goes to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and washes his face, not forgetting to clean the paint tainted his nails. He grabs a clean shirt from inside the dryer and puts it on before heading out.

Hyunjin knocks on your door, still a little sluggish from just waking up. He doesn’t have to wait long before you pull it open, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Good morning!" you chirp, stepping aside to let him in.

He steps inside, glancing around as he toes off his shoes and immediately notices the flowers he bought for you yesterday perched on the coffee tae, adding a pop of color in the living room.

"You’re in a good mood," he notes, watching the way you move around your apartment with an easy kind of energy.

You hum as you head toward the kitchen, setting the table for breakfast. "I guess I am."

Hyunjin tilts his head, observing you. Something about your smile, the way it lingers, makes him wonder. His mind flashes back to last night—how you got into Felix’s car, the way Felix had kissed your cheek, the way you had let him.

Did something happen between you two?

He presses his lips into a line, pushing the thought away before it settles too deep. Instead, he walks over to where you’re setting down plates, feigning nonchalance.

"So," he says, leaning against the counter, "good wedding?"

You glance at him, still smiling, and nod. "Yeah, it was nice."

Hyunjin hums, trying not to let his thoughts run away from him but he's not going to lie, he doesn’t like that vague answer.

When you finally set the plates on the table, he slides into the chair across from you, eyes flickering between the meal and your still-bright expression.

“So what’s the occasion?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.

You shrug, taking a seat. “Because I wanted to.”

He studies you for a beat, as if trying to find a deeper meaning behind your words. But then, before he can dwell on it too much, you add, “And because we need to talk about the concept for the next shoot.”

Ah. There it is.

He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he reaches for his fork. “So there’s an actual reason,” he teases.

You smirk, picking up your own utensils. “Does there have to be one?”

He meets your gaze across the table, something unreadable in his expression. “No,” he admits. “Not really.”

As you both eat, the conversation flows easily, filled with casual remarks about the food and small observations about the day ahead. It’s comfortable—so much so that Hyunjin almost forgets about the lingering questions in his mind. Almost.

Then, between bites, you set your fork down and glance at him. “I have an idea for the next shoot.”

He looks up from his plate, intrigued. “Yeah?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “We should make a painting together.”

His brows lift slightly. That’s… unexpected. “Like, actually paint?”

“Yeah.” You lean forward, resting your elbow on the table. “Something messy. Something raw. We can set up a big canvas, use our hands, maybe even our bodies—just create something together. Capture the process, the movement, the intimacy of it.”

Hyunjin blinks, processing your words. His mind immediately fills with images—colors smeared across skin, paint-streaked fingers, the way your expressions would shift with each stroke of color.

“That’s…” He exhales a quiet chuckle, setting his utensils down. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

Your smile widens. “Yeah?”

He nods, intrigued despite himself. “Yeah. It sounds different. More… artistic.”

“Exactly. And I figured you’d be into it. You are an artist, after all.”

He watches you for a moment, then leans back in his chair before finally says. “I say let’s do it.”

-

A few days later, Hyunjin moves around your makeshift studio, adjusting the lights, setting up the camera angles, and double-checking the placement of props. His heart pounds, but he focuses on the technicalities, keeping his mind occupied.

The canvas he bought—a massive, unblemished white expanse—sits in the center of the room. He drags it into position, making sure the lighting hits it just right. The idea had come to him suddenly, and when he brought it up, you had been all for it.

Now that everything is set, all that’s left is you. He exhales, rubbing his palms together before stretching his fingers. He has to keep his hands steady.

The soft padding of your footsteps alerts him before you even enter the room. He turns just as you step inside, wrapped in a loose bathrobe.

"Everything ready?" you ask, your voice even, but he swears there’s a flicker of something unreadable in your eyes.

He nods. "Yeah."

With that, you untie the sash of your robe and let it slip off your shoulders, baring yourself to him as you're only wearing a flimsy, plain white underwear. You're getting way too comfortable with him that you don't hesitate at all.

The camera clicks fill the room as Hyunjin moves around the canvas, capturing every angle of you stretched out bare against the stark white background. The contrast is striking—your skin, the shadows, the way the light catches the curves of your body. Through the lens, he sees more than just a subject; he sees you. And it stirs something deep in him.

Once he’s taken enough shots, he lowers the camera, his lips slightly parted. His throat feels dry, but he swallows and meets your gaze. He knows it's time.

“Lose the shirt,” you murmur, your voice carrying an edge of playfulness.

Without hesitation, he grips the hem and pulls the fabric over his head, letting it fall to the side. The cool air kisses his skin, but what affects him more is the way your eyes roam over him. Slowly, silently, like you’re memorizing every dip and contour of his body. And he likes it.

Rolling his shoulders, he crawls over to you, his movements fluid and unhurried. The canvas beneath him shifts slightly as he joins you in the center, hovering just above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows, your breath steady but expectant.

“I'm ready when you are,” you murmur with a faint smirk tugging at your lips.

Hyunjin leans in, close enough that your exhales mix. His dark hair falls slightly over his eyes, but it doesn’t hide the way he looks at you—deep, intense, searching. Then, without a word, he dips his fingers into the bowl of body paint. The cool liquid coats his fingertips, and he slowly drags them from your collarbone down to your navel. A sharp inhale escapes you, your muscles reacting to the sensation.

He watches you closely, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours before swiping his fingers through another pool of paint, this time dipping into a deep crimson. His breath is steady, but his heart pounds as he brings his hand back to your skin.

Slowly, he drags his fingertips along the curve of your shoulder, tracing down the length of your arm, leaving a streak of red in their wake. The contrast against your skin is mesmerizing, but more than that, it’s the way you react to his touch that keeps him captivated. The way your breath hitches, the way your muscles tense slightly before relaxing under his fingers.

His hand hovers over your ribs before he presses his palm against you, smearing the paint in broad strokes across your torso. It’s intimate, slow, tender. Every movement is careful, yet charged, the tension thickening between you.

You tilt your head back slightly, exposing more of your neck, and the sight makes something stir in him. He dips his fingers into a shade of violet and runs them along your throat, down the center of your chest, watching as the colors blend together against your skin. His breathing deepens.

“You’re enjoying this,” you murmur, your voice hushed yet teasing.

Hyunjin exhales a soft laugh, but he doesn’t deny it. How could he, when this is the closest he’s ever been to you like this? When he gets to touch you under the guise of art, of creativity, but deep down, he knows it’s more than that?

His fingers find a shade of indigo next, and he trails it along the dip of your waist, his hand lingering just a little longer than necessary. "You make a good canvas," he says, his voice lower than he intends.

You meet his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you speak. There’s something thick in the air, something unsaid but understood. The paint is just an excuse. The art is just a distraction. It’s him touching you. It’s you letting him.

-

At first, you thought you were going to be the one enjoying this the most—the feeling of warm hands, cool paint, and the slow, deliberate movements across your bare skin. But as you lie there, your body pressed against the canvas, you realize that it’s not just you who’s lost in the moment.

It’s Hyunjin.

He hasn’t spoken much, but you don’t need words to tell how much he’s enjoying this. The way his fingers trace your skin with slow, lingering strokes. The way he exhales softly, as if grounding himself with every touch. The way he hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, before letting his hands glide further.

The realization sends a different kind of heat curling through you as you turn over on the canvas and lay on your stomach.

He gathers your hair and drapes it over one shoulder, his fingers grazing the side of your neck in a way that makes you shiver. He takes his time, letting his touch linger as if savoring the moment before dipping his fingers into golden paint. Then, you feel it—a long, deliberate streak, starting at the nape of your neck and trailing down your spine.

The cool paint against your heated skin is startling at first, but it quickly turns into something else—something warm, something electric. You can feel his gaze on you, dark and heavy, studying the way the color melts into your body. You don’t dare look back at him, but you know. You can feel it in the way his breathing slows, in the way his hands settle just a little more firmly against you.

Then, he dips both hands into separate bowls of paint—one deep blue, the other a soft peach. You barely have time to process it before his palms press against the back of your thighs, dragging downward in a slow, unhurried motion.

A quiet gasp escapes you, your body tensing involuntarily. Not just from the sensation of the paint, but from him. From the weight of his hands, the firm yet careful way he maps out your skin like he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

His fingertips skim behind your knees, nails lightly scratching as he moves lower. A shudder rolls through you, and before you can stop yourself, a quiet, breathy sound escapes your lips.

For a moment, neither of you move. The air between you grows heavier, thicker, charged with something unspoken. And then, slowly, he leans in—so close that his breath brushes against your ear.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, his voice low, hushed, almost teasing.

The heat spreads from your core to the very tips of your fingers. You don’t know if he’s asking about the paint. Before you can gather your thoughts, his hand dips into the paint again, and then—warm fingers, slick with color, wrap around your neck.

A soft gasp escapes you as he tilts your head back, slowly, deliberately, until your gaze locks with his. Your breath catches.

He hovers above you, his dark hair falling over his eyes, his lips just slightly parted. There’s something in the way he looks at you, something deep and intense, like he’s searching for something in your expression. His fingers press just enough to make you aware of them, not tight, not demanding—just there, holding you, guiding you.

And then, with a soft, teasing lilt, he asks again, “Does it feel good?”

The question drips with something more than curiosity. Your lips part, but no words come out at first. Your body is still humming from his touch, from the sensation of wet paint drying against your skin, from the weight of his gaze keeping you pinned beneath him. Your wide eyes search his, and you nod—small, shaky.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but in the quiet space between you, it sounds so much louder.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of Hyunjin’s lips. His thumb lightly traces along your throat before he releases you, his touch lingering as his hand falls away. But the tension he’s left behind? That lingers, too.

After a moment, you shift, moving to your knees on the canvas, your bare skin already streaked with vibrant colors. The paint is drying in some places, still wet in others, creating a mix of sensations that heighten your awareness of every little movement, every touch.

Behind you, Hyunjin follows, kneeling just as you are. You feel his presence before you feel his touch—the warmth of his body close to yours, his breath ghosting along your shoulder as he dips his hands into the paint again. And then—

A slow glide of his hands down your sides, paint spreading across your skin in uneven streaks. You inhale sharply, your stomach tightening at the contrast between the slick wetness and the warmth of his palms.

You don’t stop him. Instead, you reach for his hands, fingers wrapping around his wrists, guiding him. Slowly, you trace a path with his hands, urging them to explore, to roam over your body as you bring them upward—until his paint-coated hands are palming your breasts.

A soft, broken moan escapes you as his fingers flex against you, the pressure just enough to make you shiver. Against you, Hyunjin goes still for a moment, his breath heavy and uneven against the side of your neck. His hands hesitate, but only for a second—then, as if something clicks inside him, his grip tightens, his thumbs swiping over your hardening nipples in slow, teasing strokes. You drop your head back, resting it on his shoulder, fully letting yourself melt into his hold.

He exhales, his chest rising and falling against your back, and then he moves again—his hands pressing, kneading, painting you with every motion. His grip is firm yet gentle, fingers mapping the shape of you as if imprinting you into the canvas itself.

The wet drag of paint, the warmth of his hands, the way he holds you from behind—it’s overwhelming. It’s intoxicating. And you don’t hold back. You let the pleasure spill from your lips, let the colors mix between your bodies, let Hyunjin mark you in ways he doesn’t even realize.

Hyunjin’s hands slowly slide down your arms, fingers curling around your wrists as he guides them forward. His touch is firm but patient, steadying you as he dips both of your hands into the paint together. The slick paint spreads between your fingers, mixing colors into something new, something neither of you could create alone.

With your hands still joined, he moves, pressing his chest against your back as he guides your palms toward the blank spaces of the canvas. The first touch is hesitant, experimental—your joined hands pressing against the fabric, smearing color in sweeping strokes.

He exhales softly behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, “Just like that.”

You both move together, shifting across the canvas, bodies staying close. The paint sticks to your skin, smears across your thighs, your stomach, the curve of Hyunjin’s arms. Every movement feels intimate, every brush of his fingers against yours a silent conversation.

When he tilts his head down, the tip of his nose skims along your temple, and you swear you can feel the curve of his voluptuous lips hovering just shy of touching.

“You’re good at this,” he says, his voice quiet but filled with something you can’t quite place.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you press your hands down again, swirling the colors together, feeling the heat of his palms against yours.

And when you finally glance back at him, your breath catches—because Hyunjin isn’t looking at the canvas. He’s looking at you. And the way he’s looking at you makes your pulse stutter, makes the room feel too warm, makes you wonder if this moment, this entire thing, is turning into something neither of you expected.

You barely give him a moment to react before you push against his shoulders, guiding him down until his back meets the canvas with a soft thud. His long hair fans out beneath him, dark strands streaked with bits of paint, and he watches you with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper—something that you're not ready to acknowledge.

You straddle his waist, reaching for one of the bowls of paint, and without hesitation, you tip it over his chest. A thick stream of color drips down his skin, pooling in the dips of his collarbones, the lines of his abs.

He flinches slightly at the sensation but doesn’t say a word, just watches as your hands follow the trail of paint, spreading it, smearing it, turning him into part of the canvas. His chest rises and falls beneath your touch, and for a moment, you’re completely lost in the act—until suddenly, He sits up, grabbing a bowl of his own.

Before you can react, the paint splashes onto your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. You gasp, your hands flying up in surprise as the thick liquid drips down your skin. Then, a laugh bubbles out of you, realizing this is his way of getting back at you.

He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches the paint slide down your skin. “Fair’s fair,” he murmurs, voice low but teasing.

You barely have time to respond before his arms wrap around you, pulling you close until there’s no space left between you and your breasts squashed between your chests. The paint on both of your bodies smears together, colors blending with every shift, every breath, every subtle movement. The warmth of his bare skin against yours sends a shiver through you, and when your eyes meet, it feels like the world slows down.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickers to your lips, and you suddenly realize how close he is, how easily you could lean in, close the distance. And the thought tempts you, makes you reflexively shut your eyes, anticipating—

But instead of the warmth of his lips, you feel the cool drag of his fingers against your cheeks. Your eyes snap open as you gasp, realizing he’s just smeared paint across your face. Hyunjin grins, victorious, and you barely hesitate before running your hands down his face, streaking him with paint in return.

What started as something intimate shifts in an instant. Laughter spills between you as you wrestle for control, hands grabbing at paint, smearing it wherever you can reach. The canvas beneath you turns into a chaotic masterpiece of color, your bodies painting just as much as your hands.

By the time you finally collapse against each other, breathless from laughter, you’re both a mess of paint and warmth and something lingering in the air between you, unspoken.

-

The warm spray of the shower cascades over Hyunjin’s skin, washing away streaks of paint in rivulets of color that swirl down the drain. He tilts his head back slightly, letting the water soak into his hair, the heavy strands clinging to his face and neck. His body still hums with leftover adrenaline from the shoot, from the mess of colors, from you. And speaking of you—

He's about to turn on his feet when he feels a cool dollop of body wash lands on his chest. He looks down just in time to see you grinning, hands already moving to lather the soap over his skin.

“I think you did that on purpose,” he mutters, watching as your fingers work over the paint-streaked expanse of his torso

You hum in amusement, tilting your head. “Maybe.”

Hebscoffs but doesn’t stop you, though his body tenses slightly when your hands move lower, tracing the edges of his ribs, his waist, the dips of his pelvic bone. It’s… too easy to enjoy this, the feeling of your touch, the warmth of the water, the closeness that neither of you seem to be in a rush to break. Still, he can’t let you have all the fun.

Hyunjin grabs a handful of body wash and smears it along your shoulder, then down your arm in a long, soapy streak. You yelp in surprise, glaring at him through the steam-filled air, but he only grins, smug.

“Oh, it’s like that?” you challenge, narrowing your eyes.

He simply shrugs, barely concealing his laughter.

In retaliation, you cup your hands, gathering water before flinging it at him, making him splutter. It turns into a playful battle of soap and water, hands slipping, laughter echoing against the tile. Hyunjin doesn’t even notice how close you’ve gotten until his back nearly hits the shower wall, and you’re right there, breathless, eyes glimmering with something between amusement and something else—something tender.

Your hands slow, fingers gliding gently over his forearm, then up to his shoulder, smoothing away the last traces of paint. The shift in atmosphere is subtle but undeniable, laughter fading into something quieter, something heavier.

Hyunjin swallows, his throat suddenly dry despite the water running down his skin. He watches as your gaze flickers to his, then lower—to his lips—before quickly darting away.

And for a moment, he wonders if he should say something. Do something. But before he can, you’re turning away, reaching for the shampoo. The moment passes, slipping away like paint down the drain.

Hyunjin exhales, running a hand through his wet hair as he forces himself to focus on something else. Anything else. “Turn around,” he says, voice steady despite himself. “You still have paint in your hair.”

You obey, and he works the shampoo through your strands, fingers massaging gently against your scalp. You sigh, melting under his touch.

“Sorry about your jeans,” you apologize as you rub the hint of paint on your elbow.

Hyunjin glances at his jeans, lying on the bathroom floor tainted with drying paints as he speaks. “No worries,” he calmly responds.

As he rinses the soap from your hair, you turn around on your feet, blinking water out of your lashes as you look up at him with an amused smirk. “If we’re both in here, then who’s ordering dinner?”

He pauses, hands still in your hair, fingers tangled in wet strands. He blinks once, then twice, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “…Oh.”

You burst into laughter, reaching behind you to grab a towel. “Guess we didn’t think that far ahead, huh?”

He runs a hand through his dripping hair, exhaling through his nose. “I was a little preoccupied.”

You raise a brow, drying your arms with the towel. “With what? Scrubbing paint off me?”

He huffs, shaking his head as he grabs his own towel. “Among other things.”

You don’t ask him to elaborate, and he doesn’t offer. Instead, you wrap your towel around yourself, padding out of the bathroom while wringing the ends of your hair. “I’ll order something.”

Wrapped in plush bathrobes, still slightly damp from the shower, you and Hyunjin stand side by side in front of the massive canvas sprawled across the floor. The colors are wild, chaotic, and yet, somehow, perfectly blended—just like the two of you in that moment.

Hyunjin exhales, crossing his arms over his chest. “It actually turned out really cool.”

You grin, nudging his arm. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Not really. We’re kind of a masterpiece-making duo, aren’t we?”

You laugh. “Damn right we are.”

A comfortable silence settles as you both admire the painting, letting the weight of what you’ve created sink in. Then, Hyunjin suddenly perks up. “We should sign it.”

You blink at him before tilting your head in thought. “That’s actually a great idea.”

Grabbing a marker from your desk, you crouch down at the bottom corner of the painting and carefully write your initial. Satisfied, you hand the marker to Hyunjin, who kneels beside you. He hesitates for a second, then presses the marker to the canvas, his strokes smooth and deliberate as he writes: S.H.

You frown slightly, tilting your head. “S.H.?”

He glances at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah. It’s my painting name.”

Your brows lift in curiosity. “Your painting name?”

He nods. “Sam Hwang.”

You playfully glare at him before letting out a soft laugh. “Sam Hwang? That’s what you go by?”

Hyunjin smirks. “Yep.”

You shake your head in amusement, eyeing the signature. “It suits you.”

He hums, running a hand through his still-damp hair. “Figured I’d keep my art life a little separate from everything else.”

You admire the signed painting once more before nodding in agreement. “Well, in that case… congrats on the first official collaboration of—” You gesture between the two of you. “—us.”

He grins, tapping his knuckles against yours. “To many more.”

Later that night, Hyunjin sits at his desk, the only light in his apartment coming from his laptop screen. The faint hum of his computer fills the quiet space as he scrolls through the photos he took earlier. His fingers move instinctively on the trackpad, adjusting the brightness, sharpening the colors, refining each shot.

The images on the screen are undeniable—vivid streaks of paint on bare skin, hands tangled, bodies intertwined on the canvas. But more than that, what stands out to him is the way the two of you looked at each other. The way you laughed, the way you touched, the way you moved together. It wasn’t just a shoot. It was something else entirely.

Hyunjin exhales, running a hand through his still-damp hair. He was supposed to be helping you, just doing a job, but he can’t ignore the way his chest tightens as he replays the footage. He clicks on a video file, and the screen flickers to life. There you are, laughing as you smear paint down his chest, your eyes shining with mischief. Then there’s him—smirking, grabbing a handful of paint, pulling you close until your bodies are pressed together. He watches the way his own hands move over your skin, the way your head tilts back in response, the way his eyes—his eyes—follow every inch of you with something he can’t quite define.

He leans back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. This was supposed to be business. But looking at the screen, at the way the two of you lost yourselves in each other, he wonders if it ever really was.

-

The classroom is quiet except the sounds of bristles against canvas, occasional murmurs of his classmates, and the footsteps of his professor walking around observing everyone's progress.

Hyunjin moves his brush in smooth, deliberate strokes, layering deep hues onto his canvas. But his mind isn’t entirely in the present. As he paints, his thoughts drift back to that day—to the way he dipped his fingers into the paint, smearing bold colors onto your flesh. The way laughter bubbled from your lips when he smeared a streak of red onto your cheek. The warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips as the two of you moved in sync, turning the mess into something strangely beautiful. He exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. It shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did.

The sound of the professor dismissing the class snaps him out of his thoughts. With a quiet sigh, he sets down his brush and starts packing his things, carefully tucking his sketchbook into his backpack.

Then, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen. Your name. Frowning, he answers. “Hello?”

“I’m waiting for you in the parking lot,” you say, your voice light, almost playful.

Hyunjin blinks. “What? Why?”

“Just hurry up,” you simply answer and then you hang up.

Hyunjin stares at his phone for a second before sighing. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way toward the exit, his heart beating just a little faster than before. He steps out of the building, scanning the parking lot until his eyes land on your car. The engine is idling, the faint hum of it filling the quiet afternoon.

Through the windshield, he catches sight of you—elbow propped against the door, fingers drumming on the wheel, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watch him. He doesn’t waste a second. He tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack and makes a run for it, weaving through parked cars, his loose shirt billowing slightly as he moves.

By the time he reaches the passenger side, he’s slightly breathless, but your smile has only grown wider. He tugs the door open, sliding in with a questioning look. “Alright, I’m here. What’s this about?”

You simply tap your fingers against the wheel, eyes twinkling with something that hints at mischief. “You’ll see.”

Hyunjin exhales a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re so mysterious sometimes, you know that?”

You only grin in response before shifting the gear and pulling out of the parking lot.

As you drive, Hyunjin leans back in his seat, watching you with quiet curiosity. The late afternoon sunlight filters through the windshield, casting a glow on your face, and he finds himself distracted by the way your fingers tap lightly against the steering wheel in thought.

“Sienna’s birthday is this weekend,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. “She invited both of us to her party.”

He shifts in his seat. “Oh? I didn’t know I was invited.”

You glance at him briefly, a smirk playing on your lips. “Of course, you are. She likes you, you know. She said you’re fun to have around.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, that’s nice to hear.”

“But,” you continue, “I need your help with something.”

Hyunjin tilts his head. “With what?”

“I want to get her the perfect birthday gift, but I have no idea what to buy. I figured you’d have some good ideas.”

He smiles at that, finding amusement in how serious you sound about it. “Sure. I’ll help you.”

You glance at him again, this time with a satisfied nod. “Good. Because we’re going gift shopping right now.”

Hyunjin lets out a small laugh. “So that’s why you picked me up without warning.”

“You catch on fast,” you tease.

Inside the jewelry store, you and Hyunjin stand side by side, peering into the glass display cases filled with elegant necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. The soft lighting casts a warm glow on the sparkling pieces, making each one seem more tempting than the last.

“I think this one suits her,” you say, pointing at a delicate gold bracelet with a small heart charm. “It’s simple but pretty.”

Hyunjin leans down for a closer look, then shakes his head. “I think Sienna’s more into statement pieces. She’d like something bolder.”

You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re an expert on Sienna’s jewelry preferences now?”

He smirks, crossing his arms. “I just pay attention. She always wears chunky rings and layered necklaces. She likes things that stand out.”

You glance back at the display, considering his words. “Okay, fair point. Then what do you suggest?”

He scans the case before pointing at a silver necklace with an intricate flower pendant. “How about this one? It’s unique, and I think it fits her personality.”

You study the necklace for a moment, then sigh. “Okay… I actually like that one too.”

He puts on a cocky grin at you. “Told you.”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully nudge his arm before signaling for the store assistant. “Alright, we’ll take it.”

As you wait for the store assistant to wrap Sienna’s gift, your eyes wander to a nearby display of bracelets. One in particular catches your attention—a dainty silver chain with a small crescent moon charm. Curious, you slip it onto your wrist, admiring how it glimmers under the store’s warm lights.

Hyunjin, noticing, tilts his head. “That looks good on you.”

You turn your wrist slightly, testing how it feels. “You think so?”

He nods. “Yeah. It suits you.”

After a moment, you sigh and unclasp the bracelet, placing it back onto the display.

Hyunjin frowns. “You’re not getting it?”

You shake your head, a playful smile forming on your lips. “No.”

“Why not?”

You glance at him and shrug casually. “I don’t know… But you can buy it for me if you want.”

Hyunjin lets out a soft laugh, narrowing his eyes at you. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You just grin at him before stepping back toward the counter, leaving him staring at the bracelet, considering something.

-

Hyunjin slings one of your bags over his shoulder while carrying another in his hand as the two of you make your way down the stairs of the apartment building. He glances at you, still trying to wake himself up fully as he asks, “Why are we leaving so early?”

You adjust your grip on the bag you’re carrying and glance at him. “Because Sienna rented a villa for her birthday party,” you explain. “And not just any villa—the same one I rented for the collab shoot with her.”

He hums at that as it rekindle a certain memory. “Oh?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s a bit far, so we have to leave now if we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

Hyunjin stifles a yawn as the two of you reach the bottom of the stairs. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder before looking at you again. “So… that villa, huh?” he repeats, his voice tinged with intrigue.

You glance at him, catching the subtle curiosity in his tone. “Yep. Why? Does that interest you?”

He tilts his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the amused smile that creeps onto your face as the two of you head toward your car. Hyunjin holds his hand out at you, gesturing for the car keys, “I’ll drive this time.”

You pause with your keys in hand, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

He scoffs playfully, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m awake now. Besides, I’m a great driver.”

You watch him for a second before smiling and handing him the keys. “Alright. Just don't forget you're carrying a precious cargo here.”

Hyunjin chuckles as he unlocks the car and slides into the driver’s seat, adjusting it to his preference. You settle into the passenger side, stretching your legs slightly before fastening your seatbelt.

As he turns the engine on, you lean your head back against the headrest, sighing in contentment. “Actually, this is even better. Now I can take a nap.”

He glances at you as he pulls out of the parking lot, smirking. “You’re really just going to abandon me while I drive?”

You let out a small laugh, already getting comfortable. “Yup. Wake me up when we’re there.”

He shakes his head with an amused chuckle as he focuses on the road ahead. “Unbelievable.”

The road stretches ahead in a quiet hum of asphalt and tires, the early morning light casting a soft glow over everything. Hyunjin keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear shift, his fingers tapping lightly against it as music plays faintly through the speakers.

Every now and then, he steals a glance at you. You’re curled up slightly in the passenger seat, your head resting against the window, your breathing slow and even. Completely at ease. He watches the way your lips part slightly as you sleep, the way your eyelashes flutter every now and then, as if you’re dreaming.

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. There’s something oddly comforting about this moment—just the two of you, the quiet hum of the car, and the warmth of the sun spilling through the windows.

And maybe it’s selfish, but he wants to make this ride last a little longer. Without really thinking about it, he eases his foot off the gas just a little, keeping the car at a leisurely pace just below the speed limit. There’s no rush. No need to wake you up sooner than necessary. So he drives, letting the soft rhythm of your breathing mix with the steady sound of the road, stealing quiet moments where he can.

-

You slowly blink awake, the warmth of the sun making your eyelids heavy even as you regain consciousness. The first thing you notice is the steady rhythm of the car moving smoothly along the road. The second is Hyunjin, still at the wheel, his gaze focused ahead, one hand lazily gripping the wheel while the other rests on the gear shift.

You shift slightly in your seat, stretching just a little before settling in more comfortably, watching him. The way his jaw tenses and relaxes, the way his fingers drum lightly against the wheel to the beat of the song playing softly through the speakers—it’s all so effortlessly him.

He must notice your gaze because, without taking his eyes off the road, he asks, “How was your nap?”

A slow smile forms on your lips as you reply, “You’re such a good driver that I slept so well.”

At that, He huffs out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a first. Most people don’t sleep well when I drive.”

You arch a brow, amused. “Why? Do you usually drive like a maniac?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“Well, lucky for me, you were driving like a dream today,” you tease, stretching your arms above your head before relaxing again.

Hyunjin glances your way for a brief second, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips before he focuses back on the road. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure you got a good nap.”

Something about the way he says it makes warmth settle in your chest, but you brush it off with a playful grin. “Then I might have to let you drive more often.”

He just laughs, shaking his head again, and the car continues rolling down the road, carrying the two of you closer to your destination.

As Hyunjin pulls the car into the driveway of the villa, you sit up straighter, stretching out the last remnants of sleep from your limbs. The place looks just as stunning as you remember—white walls, wide glass windows, and a breathtaking view of the greenery beyond.

He parks the car and turns off the engine, glancing over at you. “We’re here.”

You nod, pushing open the door and stepping out. The fresh morning air greets you, and you take a deep breath, already feeling the excitement of the day settling in.

Hyunjin gets out as well, moving to the trunk to grab the bags. “Go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll bring these in.”

You don’t argue, instead making your way to the front door and knocking. It barely takes a second before the door swings open, and Sienna comes bursting out, her eyes lighting up the moment she sees you.

“Oh my god, you’re here!” she squeals, throwing her arms around you in a tight hug.

You laugh, hugging her back. “Of course I’m here!”

She pulls back, grinning. “I'm glad you made it.” Then her eyes flick over your shoulder, noticing Hyunjin as he walks up with the bags in his arms. “And there he is.”

Hyunjin gives a small nod in greeting. “Hey.”

Sienna steps in to give him a quick hug before leading the two of you toward the villa. “Come on, come on, get inside! Let's have a preparty.”

As you and Hyunjin step into the villa, the familiar scent of wood and fresh linen greets you. The place is as gorgeous as you remember—high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows that let in plenty of sunlight, and the swimming pool that reflects the sunlight into the living room.

Hyunjin sets the bags down near the entrance, rolling his shoulders as he glances around. Before he can say anything, Sienna claps her hands together, turning to you with a knowing smile. “So… did you tell him about that thing?”

You shake your head, smirking. “Nope. You can ask him yourself.”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrow suspiciously between the two of you. “What thing?”

Sienna and you exchange a look before bursting into laughter, making Hyunjin even more wary. He crosses his arms, lips pressing into a tight line. “Why do I feel like I’m being set up?”

Sienna steps closer, tilting her head teasingly. “Oh, don’t look so nervous, Hyunjin. It’s nothing bad.”

You grin, deciding to end his suffering. “I’m lending you to Sienna.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “You’re what?”

You laugh at the way his eyes widen, enjoying the moment of confusion on his face. Sienna quickly adds, “As a photographer! I want you to take some photos of me while we’re here.”

Hyunjin exhales, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Sienna nudges him playfully. “But you’re saying yes, right?”

Hyunjin looks at you, but you just smile innocently as if you didn't just set him up. He sighs, knowing he’s already lost. “Sure. Anything for the birthday girl.”

“Yay!” Sienna grins triumphantly, catching him off guard as she places a kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on the skin.

You help Sienna get ready in the living room as she sits on the sofa in front of you, applying the finishing touches to her makeup. The golden light streaming through the window makes her glow even more, enhancing the shimmer of the dress she picked out for the shoot.

You do her hair next, applying some hair product to add volume to her curls. “So… you kept saying this was a party, but why are there only three of us here?”

Sienna grins, dabbing some gloss onto her lips. “Because this is a party. It’s just a small, intimate one.” She turns to look at you, wiggling her brows. “I only invited people I like.”

You huff a small laugh. “That’s one way to do it.”

Just then, Hyunjin enters the room, camera in hand, adjusting the settings as he walks in. “So basically,” he chimes in, “I should feel honored that you like me.”

Sienna lets out a dramatic sigh, flipping her hair. “Ugh, don’t flatter yourself too much.”

You and Hyunjin exchange amused looks before Sienna points at him. “Now, be useful and make me look stunning.”

Hyunjin slyly smiles, lifting his camera. “You already look great. My job’s easy.”

Sienna gasps playfully. “A compliment? From you? I think I might cry.”

Hyunjin just chuckles, motioning for her to move into position. “Alright, birthday girl. Let’s get started.”

-

Hyunjin leans against the sink, his thumb idly scrolling on his phone as he refreshes your Lustre page once more. Nothing. The content you had planned to release—the one you made together—still isn’t there. His brows furrow slightly. Did you forget? It’s not like you to be careless about your uploads.

He exhales through his nose, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket. It’s not the right time to ask about it. Maybe you decided to delay it for some reason. Either way, he pushes the thought aside for now and exits the bathroom.

As he walks down the dimly lit hallway, his steps slow when he catches sight of the bedroom at the end of it. The door is slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of the soft, unmade sheets. His mind instantly goes back to earlier—to the way the three of you had sprawled on that very bed, laughter mixing with the sound of the camera shutter, the lingering scent of Sienna’s perfume still clinging to the air. But more than that, he remembers you. The way you had leaned into him, how your lips had pressed against his in that fleeting yet electrifying moment. The way your voice had lilted with teasing when you whispered, To be continued.

Hyunjin swallows, fingers twitching at his sides. Would tonight be the night you pick up where you left off?

The thought sends a rush of heat through him, but he quickly tamps it down. He shouldn’t assume anything. But as he glances at the bedroom again, his heart thrums with anticipation, wondering—hoping—that you’ll pull him into that room again before the night ends.

Hyunjin flinches slightly when he hears Sienna’s voice calling his name from the other side of the hallway, snapping him out of his thoughts. He exhales, shaking his head as if to clear the lingering images in his mind before making his way toward the kitchen.

The moment he steps in, he finds you and Sienna moving around, setting dishes on the counter. You glance at him briefly, sending him a small smile before going back to arranging the food.

“Set the table, will you?” Sienna says, not looking up as she uncorks a bottle of wine. “And add another plate.”

Hyunjin grabs the plates and pauses mid-motion. “Another plate? You invited someone else?”

Sienna smirks knowingly as she pours herself a drink. “Yep.”

He narrows his eyes slightly. “Who?”

Sienna simply takes a slow sip of her wine before flashing a teasing grin and then gives him a nonchalant shrug in answer.

Hyunjin presses his lips together, feeling a twinge of curiosity—and something else he can’t quite place. As he sets the extra plate down, he wonders who exactly this mystery guest is and why Sienna seems so pleased about it.

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you ask, directing the question at Sienna.

She shakes her head, spearing a piece of food with her fork. “Nope. He’s busy with work,” she answers with a brief eye roll as if she's fed up with it and then she smirks as she casts a quick glance at Hyunjin. “But this particular guest is special.”

Hyunjin glances between the two of you, his curiosity only growing. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or do we have to keep guessing?”

Sienna just shrugs, clearly enjoying keeping the suspense. “You’ll know soon enough.”

Despite the lingering mystery, the three of you begin eating dinner, the conversation shifting to lighter topics—Sienna talking about her latest projects, you sharing something funny from earlier in the week, and Hyunjin chiming in with an occasional sarcastic remark that makes both of you laugh. But every now and then, Hyunjin’s eyes drift back to the empty plate, wondering who exactly was important enough for Sienna to invite to such an intimate gathering.

A sudden knock on the door interrupts the flow of conversation. Sienna's eyes light up, and without missing a beat, she pushes back her chair and practically skips toward the door. Hyunjin watches her disappear down the hallway, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the edge of his plate. You, on the other hand, sip your drink with a calm expression, as if you already have an idea of who the guest might be.

Hyunjin tilts his head slightly, trying to catch snippets of the conversation at the door. He hears Sienna’s voice—cheerful and welcoming—followed by a familiar, softer one that makes his stomach twist before he even fully processes it.

And then, Sienna reappears, a wide grin stretching across her face as she gestures toward the guest trailing behind her.

Felix.

Hyunjin barely has time to mask his expression before Felix steps forward, his warm eyes scanning the room before landing on you. He gives you a small smile—one you return with ease—and then he greets Hyunjin casually, as if this is nothing out of the ordinary.

Sienna claps her hands together, clearly satisfied with the turnout. “Now that everyone’s here,” she announces, “we can officially start the party!”

Hyunjin forces a small smile, but as Sienna and Felix laugh about something, his gaze flickers toward you. You look perfectly at ease, and for some reason, that bothers him more than it should.

-

As Hyunjin and Sienna huddle by the fireplace, debating over how to get the flames going, you focus on getting the drinks ready in the kitchen. The clinking of glasses fills the space as you pour each drink carefully, making sure everything is set before bringing them to the others.

Just as you reach for another glass, Felix appears beside you, casually leaning against the counter with that ever-present smirk. “You don’t look happy to see me,” he teases, his voice light.

You pause mid-pour, blinking up at him. “What? That’s not true.”

“So... Does that mean you're happy to see me?” he playfully guesses, tilting his head.

You let out a chuckle while resuming what you were doing. “It’s Sienna’s birthday, and she’s free to invite whoever she wants.”

Felix hums, unconvinced. “So, if it weren’t for Sienna, you wouldn’t have invited me?”

You sigh, exasperated, before shaking your head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Felix chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he says, nudging your arm lightly.

Rolling your eyes, you move to grab the last glass and hand it to him. “Yeah, okay, I'm happy to see you.”

“There we go,” he quips before glancing toward the living room, where Hyunjin and Sienna are still struggling with the fireplace. “So, what kind of party does Sienna usually throw?”

You shrug honestly. “No one really knows.”

Felix raises an eyebrow at that, intrigued. “Sounds like we’re in for a surprise.”

You give him a knowing look. “With Sienna? Always.”

You nudge Felix with your elbow and nod toward the birthday cake sitting on the counter. “Help me carry this?”

Felix grins and steps in, carefully picking up the cake stand while you steady the top to make sure the candles don’t flicker out. Together, the two of you make your way toward the living room, where Hyunjin and Sienna are still caught up in their attempt to get the fireplace going.

The moment you step in, you start singing the birthday song, your voice leading the way. Felix joins in, and soon, Hyunjin catches on, his head snapping toward the two of you with realization. Sienna turns around at the sound, her eyes widening as she spots the cake with the glowing candles.

Her gasp is loud, hands flying to her mouth as a delighted smile takes over her face. “You guys!” she exclaims, eyes flickering between all of you.

Hyunjin, never one to miss a good moment, scrambles for the camera he left on the couch, quickly adjusting the lens to capture Sienna’s reaction. The flickering glow of the candles reflects in her eyes as she laughs, looking overwhelmed by the small but thoughtful celebration.

“Make a wish,” you remind her, giving her an encouraging nod.

Sienna closes her eyes for a second, the room falling into an anticipatory silence, before she blows out the candles in one smooth breath. Cheers erupt as you all clap for her, and Hyunjin continues snapping pictures, capturing every moment.

With the candles blown out and the cake safely set on the coffee table, Sienna grabs her drink and raises it high. “Alright, everyone! Since we’re doing this right, let’s have a proper toast.”

Hyunjin, Felix, and you follow her lead, lifting your glasses as she clears her throat dramatically.

“To another year of being fabulous, unbothered, and thriving!” Sienna grins, eyes shining. “May this year bring me even more money, more success, and—” she pauses, smirking, “—a lot of love.”

You chuckle, clinking your glass against hers. “You mean more fans falling at your feet?”

Sienna winks. “That too.”

Hyunjin shakes his head with a smile, and Felix chuckles before adding, “To Sienna. May your ego never deflate.”

Sienna gasps in mock offense, but before she can retort, everyone clinks their glasses together and takes a sip of their drinks.

With that, the party officially begins. Laughter fills the cozy villa as the four of you settle in. Music plays softly in the background, the fireplace finally crackling with warmth, and the night stretches ahead, promising more fun, games, and a few surprises yet to come.

Hyunjin swirls his drink in his glass, letting the warmth of it settle in his chest as he leans back in his seat. The fire crackles softly, casting a golden glow across the room, but his eyes are drawn elsewhere. You and Felix sit together on the sofa, far too close for his liking. Felix leans in, murmuring something to you as if you’re in a crowded club instead of a quiet villa.

Hyunjin catches faint glimpses of the conversation—your giggles, Felix’s low teasing voice, the way you lightly shove his shoulder but don’t move away. He takes another sip of his drink, jaw tensing slightly. He tells himself he doesn’t care. That he shouldn’t care. But the longer he watches, the harder it is to ignore the feeling creeping up his spine.

A sudden bump to his shoulder snaps him out of it. He turns to see Sienna smirking at him, one brow raised.

“You look like you’re having the time of your life,” she teases.

Hyunjin exhales, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

Sienna rolls her eyes. “Sure you are.” Then, without warning, she claps her hands together and declares, “Alright, enough lounging around. It’s time for games!”

Felix groans dramatically, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Sienna, we’re adults.”

Sienna grins. “Exactly! Which means we’re playing adult games.”

Hyunjin has no idea what she means by that, but the way her smirk widens tells him he’s about to find out.

-

The four of you sit in a loose circle on the carpet, surrounded by plush cushions and the lingering warmth of the fireplace. The drinks are flowing, laughter comes easily, and everyone is comfortably relaxed in the dim glow of the villa’s living room.

Sienna, always the life of the party, reaches into her bag and pulls out a small velvet pouch. The moment you see it, you already know what’s inside. She loosens the drawstring, tilting the pouch, and a handful of small, pastel-colored pills spill onto her palm.

Felix watches with interest. “And what do we have here?”

You lean back on your hands, tilting your head. “How do you always have these?”

Sienna grins, tossing a pill between her fingers before handing them out. “I have this friend—Jane. She works at a pharmaceutical company and hooks me up with these.” She winks. “Nothing crazy, just enough to keep the good vibes going.”

Next to you, Felix picks up his pill, turning it between his fingers as if he’s studying it. He gives you a questioning look, and you smirk. “It’s harmless,” you assure him.

Without another thought, Felix pops it into his mouth and washes it down with a sip of wine. Sienna follows suit, tipping her head back easily. You do the same, feeling the cool slide of the pill down your throat, the familiar anticipation settling in your stomach.

But when you glance at Hyunjin, he’s still holding his between his fingers, hesitating. His gaze flickers to yours for a brief second before he finally places it on his tongue and swallows. You don’t miss the way his throat bobs, or the way he exhales afterward, as if bracing himself.

Sienna pulls something out of her duffel bag this time and from the box, you can tell that it's Jenga blocks, she's putting it in the middle, the flickering light from the fireplace casting soft shadows over the game.

You glance at Sienna, raising a skeptical brow. “Jenga? This is your idea of fun?” you ask doubtfully.

Sienna waves you off with a smirk. “Just wait.” She reaches forward and carefully pulls out the first block. As she flips it over, she grins and reads out loud, “Do a love shot.”

Felix chuckles, already intrigued. Hyunjin, on the other hand, simply watches with mild curiosity.

Sienna grabs two shot glasses, fills them with liquor, and then turns to Hyunjin, who happens to be sitting on her right. “Guess it’s you and me,” she says teasingly, handing him one of the glasses.

Hyunjin raises a brow but doesn’t refuse. They link their arms together, bringing the glasses to their lips at the same time. Sienna takes her shot smoothly, but as soon as the alcohol burns down her throat, she gasps dramatically, shaking her head at the bitter aftertaste.

She turns to you with a playful smirk. “And that,” she says, setting her glass down with a clink, “is how you play.”

Sienna gently elbows Hyunjin’s side, signaling that it’s his turn next and Hyunjin hesitates for a second before carefully pulling a block from the stack. He flips it over and reads the instruction silently, his brows twitching slightly. Before he can say anything, Sienna leans over impatiently and snatches the block from his hand.

“Spank someone three times on the ass,” she reads out loud, chuckling in amusement before looking at Hyunjin expectantly. “Well? Who’s the lucky one?”

Hyunjin exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a smirk. “I guess the birthday girl deserves it.”

Sienna rolls her eyes, feigning exasperation. “Ugh, I should’ve known.” But then, without hesitation, she turns and offers her ass, wiggling her hips slightly as if to encourage him.

Hyunjin scoffs but goes along with it. He raises his hand and lands a gentle spank on her ass, barely making a sound.

Sienna immediately whirls her head around and rolls her eyes at him. “Oh, come on. Harder.”

Hyunjin blinks before raising his hand again, this time delivering a firmer smack.

Sienna only grins. “That was better, but you can do better than that. Come on! Harder!”

Hyunjin gives her a deadpan look but complies, swinging his hand back and landing a sharp spank on her ass. Sienna yelps at the impact, her body jerking slightly.

For a split second, Hyunjin looks alarmed. “Shit—sorry, did I go too hard?”

Sienna whirls back around with a smirk, completely unfazed. “Please. I’ve taken harder than that.”

Felix bursts out laughing, and you shake your head, chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all. Sienna, always the chaotic one, is enjoying every second of this.

Since you're sitting next to Hyunjin, it's time for you to take your turn. You reach for a block near the bottom of the stack, carefully wiggling it free, holding your breath as the tower wobbles slightly. Once it’s out, you flip it over and read the instruction printed on it. Kiss the person you think is the hottest.

Sienna immediately gasps before breaking into laughter. “Oh, this is a good one!” She turns to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But it’s not an easy decision, huh? You’ve got two sexy boys right here.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. This is easy.”

Both Felix and Hyunjin straighten slightly, waiting for your choice. You glance at them both, dragging out the moment, then shake your head with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, boys,” you say, shifting onto your hands and knees. “The hottest person here is Sienna.”

Sienna grins as you crawl over to her. She meets you in the middle, tilting her chin up expectantly. “You better give the boys a good show,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a smirk.

You slide your fingers under her jaw, tilting her head just right before pressing your lips to hers. She responds instantly, kissing you back with confidence, and as the teasing tension in the air thickens, you deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past her lips.

The kiss turns messy, heat building between you as your mouths move together, the taste of alcohol and something undeniably Sienna filling your senses. Your fingers tighten on her jaw, and she lets out a soft hum of approval. By the time you finally pull away, you’re both slightly breathless, lips tingling, your gazes locked in amusement and heat.

“Holy shit.” Felix is the first to break the silence. His voice is awed, his eyes wide. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, but when you glance at him, his fingers are wrapped tightly around his drink, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His gaze flickers between you and Sienna, something unreadable lingering in his expression.

It's Felix’s turn now and he leans forward, eyes scanning the tower carefully before pulling a block from the middle of the stack with ease. He flips it over, reads the instruction silently, then lets out a soft chuckle before reading it aloud. "Remove one article of clothing."

Sienna immediately lets out an excited squeal, clapping her hands together. “Oh, hell yes. I love this game.”

Felix smirks, clearly enjoying the attention, and takes a moment to consider which piece to remove. Then, he turns to you. “What do you think? What should I take off?”

You blink at him, caught completely off guard. “What?”

Felix holds your gaze, a teasing glint in his eyes, waiting for your answer. Heat rushes to your face as you quickly shake your head. “I’m not answering that.”

“Alright then,” Felix says with a grin, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. His fingers work through them one by one, taking his sweet time. As he parts the fabric and shrugs it off, revealing his toned torso, Sienna lets out a dramatic gasp before breaking into loud cheers.

“Felix, you absolute menace,” she laughs, fanning herself exaggeratedly.

Felix tosses his shirt aside, leaning back with an amused expression. “Hope that was worth it.”

Sienna, still grinning, suddenly pauses before snapping her fingers. “Oh! We finished the first round.”

She grabs the bottle of liquor and starts pouring shots for everyone. “House rule—one shot for every round we complete!”

She hands each of you a shot glass, lifting hers in the air. “Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together before downing the shots, the burn of alcohol warming your throat instantly. The game is only getting started.

-

The game has gone on for multiple rounds, the tower now hollow in places and dangerously close to toppling. The atmosphere is thick with warmth, alcohol, and something else Hyunjin can’t quite put into words.

Sienna is sprawled on her stomach, clad only in her matching underwear, lazily watching the game. Felix, shirtless, lounges beside you, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. Hyunjin, only in his boxers, feels the heat of the liquor swirling in his veins as he reaches for a block, his movements slow and precise.

The tower wobbles slightly, and he holds his breath. After a tense moment, he successfully pulls a piece free. A small, relieved laugh escapes him as he flips the block over and reads the instruction, his voice slightly slurred. "Make a hickey on someone's neck."

His mind blanks for a second. His hazy gaze flickers across the room. Sienna watches with mild curiosity, propping herself up on her elbows. Felix still lingers close to you, his breath brushing against your skin. A strange feeling twists in Hyunjin’s chest, and before he can second-guess himself, the words tumble out of his mouth.

“You.”

Your head snaps up, eyes widening slightly in surprise. But before you can react, Hyunjin is already moving, scooting closer until he’s right beside you. His fingers gently push your hair away, exposing the delicate slope of your neck. His hand hovers for a second as if giving you the chance to pull away. You don’t.

He leans in and his lips meet your skin first, warm and soft. Then, he sucks, slow and deliberate, letting his mouth linger, knowing the mark will bloom there in the morning. A quiet gasp escapes your lips, and the sound makes something coil tight in Hyunjin’s stomach. His teeth graze against your skin before he soothes the spot with a final kiss, his lips pressing over the fresh mark one last time before he pulls away.

The moment is brief, but it feels like an eternity, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. When Hyunjin finally leans back, his gaze flickers up to meet yours, his lips tingling, his heart pounding.

The game continues, but for a fleeting moment, you seem to be stuck in a daze until you realize that you have to take your turn. You lean in, concentrating on which block to pull that won't cause the tower crumbling down.

Hyunjin watches as you struggle for another minute, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for a block. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if it’s because of him—because of the mark he just left on your skin, the lingering warmth of his lips still pressed against your flesh.

But you manage. Somehow, you pull a block from the tower, and to your luck, it’s blank.

Sienna groans. “Boring.”

You laugh softly, and then it’s Felix’s turn.

He eyes the tower carefully before reaching for a piece near the bottom. The entire structure wobbles dangerously as he slides it free, but miraculously, it doesn’t fall. He flips the block over and reads the instruction aloud, his voice dripping with amusement. "Remove someone’s article of clothing."

Hyunjin barely has time to process it before Felix’s gaze lands on you, sharp and certain. You nervously giggle, already knowing what’s coming.

Felix shifts closer, his palm gliding down the length of your dress, considering. But instead of going for the obvious choice, he hums in thought and slips his hand beneath the hem, his fingers ghosting against your bare thigh. The air thickens instantly.

“Oh, I know which clothing I’m taking off,” Felix announces, his tone playful but firm.

Sienna lets out an exaggerated coo, propping a hand under her chin, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before her.

Hyunjin, however, can only watch as Felix’s hands move with ease, sliding higher, disappearing under your dress. His fingers hook around the band of your underwear, and he tugs. Instinctively, you lift your hips, allowing him to pull the lacy fabric down. Slow. Deliberate.

Hyunjin’s throat goes dry as Felix drags the black lace down the curve of your thighs, past your knees, until he finally slides it off completely. The moment hangs heavy in the air, charged with something indescribable.

Felix grins triumphantly, twirling the underwear between his fingers before—without shame—bringing it up to his nose and sniffing.

Sienna groans. “God, you’re such a perv.” She tosses a piece of chip at him, which bounces off his bare shoulder.

But Felix doesn’t care. He holds your gaze, mischief dancing in his dark eyes. Then, with a smirk, he stuffs the delicate lace into his pocket. “I’m keeping this,” he murmurs.

Hyunjin swallows hard, gripping his drink a little too tightly as a strange, heated feeling coils in his gut so he shifts his focus on Sienna now as she takes her turn. She narrows her eyes at the tower, steadying herself as she reaches for a block. But in her drunken state, her fingers fumble, and with one wrong move, the entire stack comes crashing down.

A chorus of cheers erupts from you, Felix, and Hyunjin—except for Sienna, who groans dramatically, throwing her head back.

“Noooo!” she whines. “I was so close!”

“You really weren’t,” Felix chuckles, watching as the wooden pieces scatter across the floor.

Sienna huffs, but then she suddenly smirks. “Fine. I lost. But you all are drinking with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s not how punishments work.”

“It is tonight,” she insists, grabbing the last bottle of liquor. “One last toast before I die.”

Felix rolls his eyes, but he grabs his glass anyway. Hyunjin does the same, though there’s a faint flush to his cheeks—probably from the alcohol, but maybe from something else.

Sienna raises the bottle. “To birthdays, bad decisions, and hot people.”

You and Felix clink your glasses with hers, and Hyunjin hesitates for half a second before following suit. Then, everyone downs their shots.

And as a punishment, Sienna doesn’t stop there, she tilts the bottle back and chugs. For a moment, it looks like she might actually finish the whole thing—until she suddenly coughs, breaking away with a gasp.

“Shit. Okay. I can’t.” She shoves the bottle at Hyunjin. “You finish it.”

Hyunjin blinks at her, startled. “What? Why me?”

“Because it's my birthday,” she says, as if that explains everything. “And because you’re the best.”

Hyunjin sighs, but the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. “Fine.”

With that, he lifts the bottle and drains the rest in one go. The moment he lowers it, Sienna throws herself at him, knocking him back slightly as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, my gentleman,” she purrs, and them she kisses him.

It happens so fast that Hyunjin barely has time to react. Her lips press firmly against his, warm and liquor-sweet, and for a split second, everything else fades away. Little does he know—this is the start of it all.

-

You lose count of how many drinks you had but you can tell that if you have one more, you're done. You steer yourself away from it, propping a hand against the carpet to steady yourself as you begin to feel lightheaded.

Felix leans in, his arms braced on either side of you, caging you in. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek as he speaks, low and deliberate.

"Should we catch up to them?" he asks, voice laced with mischief.

You glance to the side, eyes landing on Sienna who’s now straddling Hyunjin, her hands tangled in his hair as their lips move in sync, lost in their own world. The sight stirs something in you—curiosity, heat, maybe both. But before you can properly register it, you turn your head back to Felix… and find him even closer. His hand rests your thigh, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, warm and steady. Then he leans in further, nose skimming along your neck, breathing you in like you're something rare.

"You smell so heavenly," he murmurs, lips grazing your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine just as he begins to trail kisses—up the curve of your throat, along your jaw—before his mouth finds yours.

The kiss is hard and deep and hungry. His hands, once tentative, now roam with growing confidence as he presses you back into the plush cushions. Your body yields beneath him, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he hovers above you, his weight settling just enough to pin you beneath him without crushing you.

And then he kisses you again—deeper this time, with more intent. You feel it in the way his fingers tighten on your thigh, in the way his chest pushes into yours, in the way he makes it known he wants to keep going. Your thoughts are scattered, drowned out by the warmth of his touch and the dizzying weight of everything happening around you.

The room is cast in the soft, flickering glow of the fireplace—shadows dancing along the walls, licking across skin, outlining bodies in warm amber.

You melt into the cushions beneath you, the velvet brushing your skin as Felix deepens the kiss, his hand skimming up the outside of your thigh, slow and reverent. The crackle of the fire fills the silence, punctuated by the soft hitch of your breath when his fingers graze under the hem of your dress.

Somewhere in the background, you hear it—Sienna’s breathless laugh, the muffled sounds of Hyunjin’s voice close against her skin. You don't have to look to know what they’re doing. You can feel it in the room, the heat and intimacy hanging heavy in the air like perfume.

Felix pulls back just slightly, his forehead pressed to yours as he catches his breath, his eyes searching yours. There's a flicker of something playful there, but beneath it—a quiet hunger.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are in my eyes,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

Your hand finds his chest, the steady beat of his heart pounding against your palm, grounding you even as everything feels like it's floating.

And then he’s kissing you again, softer this time. Slower. One of his hands cradles your jaw while the other stays on your thigh, his thumb brushing gentle circles into your skin. The room is warm, your body warmer, and Felix—he’s all over you now. Not rushing. Not forcing. Just… being there. Completely.

Behind you, Sienna’s breath hitches—Hyunjin’s quiet murmur follows. But you don't turn to look. You're far too gone in the way Felix is holding you and the way he deepens the kiss again, slow and sultry, the kind that leaves you dazed and wanting more.

His hand, still resting on your thigh, shifts with purpose—fingertips brushing up, exploring. The hem of your dress lifts ever so slightly, caught in the slide of his wrist as he glides it higher, baring more of you to the warm air and his touch. He doesn’t rush. His palm moves with confidence, with intention, as he maps the curve of your thigh and slips beneath the fabric like it’s second nature. Your breath catches—just a flutter in your chest—but Felix notices. His lips curve into a faint smirk against your mouth, as if he’s proud of the effect he has on you.

You gasp softly as his fingers find your heating core where you’re warm and aching for him, and your hips shift—subtle, instinctive. The cushions beneath you muffle the sound, but not the sensation. You feel the brush of his knuckles, the slow and deliberate pressure on your clit that has your mind going hazy. The fire crackles again, casting shadows across Felix’s bare chest as he leans over you, watching your reaction through hooded eyes.

He presses a kiss to your temple, whispering something you barely catch—but you don’t need words. You feel it in the way his fingers move, teasing and coaxing on your wet cunt, in the way he’s so attuned to your body like he’s studied it in secret.

The rest of the room falls away. Sienna’s soft moan, Hyunjin’s quiet groan, the faint rustle of skin on fabric—all of it blends into the background, a distant echo to the way Felix has you unraveling beneath him.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, your thighs part instinctively, and in that moment—with the firelight painting gold across your skin, and Felix moving like he already knows how to break you apart—you surrender to it all. To the heat. To the hands. To the night that’s only just beginning.

-

The room spins gently around them, firelight flickering behind his closed lids. He’s not sure when the last piece of clothing came off—maybe it was a moment ago, maybe longer—but he feels the sudden coolness against his skin, followed by the contrasting warmth of Sienna's mouth trailing lower.

Hyunjin's head leans back against the couch, eyes fluttering as Sienna’s lips press against his again—hungry, languid, tasting like wine and something darker. His hands find her waist, her skin warm beneath his palms, and every breath he takes feels heavier than the last.

She kisses his jaw, his throat, then lower still. Every place her lips touch feels like it’s burning, like she’s leaving marks only he can feel. His fingers twitch against the floor, trying to stay grounded, but she keeps dragging him under.

Then her hands are on his cock—firm, knowing, wrapping around his length that’s already aching from how long he’s been wound up. Hyunjin lets out a shaky breath, the kind that escapes when he stop trying to hold anything in.

Sienna doesn’t rush. She moves with the same confidence she always carries—deliberate, playful, in control. Her hand strokes his cock slow at first, then a little tighter, a little faster, just enough to make his hips shift, chasing friction.

Hyunjin’s eyes flutter open just enough to catch a glimpse of her looking up at him from beneath her lashes, her lips curved into a grin that promises she’s not even close to done. His pulse thunders in his ears, mixing with the crackle of the fireplace and the soft sounds of movement from across the room. He knows he should feel self-conscious, but in this haze—with Sienna between his legs and nothing left to hide—he only feels raw and alive.

But then—he turns his head.

Just across the room, his gaze lands on you. You're half-reclined on the cushions, dress hiked up around your hips, your head thrown back. Felix is between your legs, his shoulders moving with purpose, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. The sight freezes something in Hyunjin’s chest.

He can’t hear you, not over the crackling fireplace and the pulse pounding in his ears—but he can see the way your mouth parts in a silent gasp, the subtle arch of your back, the way your body responds to Felix’s every move. Sienna's hand trails along his thigh, grounding him for a moment, but his eyes don’t leave you.

Hyunjin’s fingers curl against the cushion behind him, his knuckles pale as Sienna’s mouth works him over—slow, practiced, indulgent. Her tongue traces the length of his cock with purpose, her rhythm coaxing low, shaky breaths from his chest. The room is warm from the fireplace, but the heat pooling low in his stomach burns hotter. He lets his head fall back, eyelids heavy—but he can’t stop himself from glancing sideways again.

You’re still there. Still spread out like a dream, like a scene from something he shouldn’t be watching. Felix is hidden between your thighs, his dark hair tousled from your grip. The soft sounds you make—breathless gasps, stifled moans—cut through the haze like a spark to dry leaves.

The world narrows.

Hyunjin’s lips part. He shouldn’t be watching, but he does.

You move—your hips lifting gently to meet Felix’s mouth, your hand fisting into the cushion beneath you. And then your eyes flicker open, landing right on him.

There's a burn rising in him now—not from the alcohol, not from Sienna—but from the sight of you, unraveling in someone else’s hands. He clenches his jaw, swallowing thickly as a mixture of heat and something else—something sharper—twists inside him.

Your gaze holds his. Just for a second, maybe two. But it’s enough to make Hyunjin’s breath catch, his muscles tense. It’s enough to make him feel everything—Sienna’s mouth on him, your eyes on him, the sound of your pleasure threading through the air like a song written just for him. He moans, low and quiet, his body tightening under the weight of it all. Sienna doesn’t notice. But you do.

And when you finally close your eyes again, falling deeper into Felix’s touch, Hyunjin’s head tips back once more—lost between the girl kneeling before him and the girl who haunts his every thought.

-

Your breath catches as the climax finally hit, warmth unraveling deep in your core. Felix doesn't stop—his mouth still working over your drenching cunt through the high, steady and precise, until you're trembling beneath him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him there just a moment longer, before you finally go slack against the cushions.

He rises slowly, his lips tracing a path up your body, soft and coaxing. By the time his mouth finds yours again, you’re still reeling from your high. He kisses you hard, hungry, his tongue tasting the aftermath of your pleasure, and you hum into it—weak, breathless, but sated.

“You were so good for me,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “So damn sweet, coming just like that.”

Your laugh is slow and sultry as it slips past your lips, brushing against his. “You make it sound like I had a choice.”

Felix chuckles, the sound deep and satisfied, and kisses you again, slower this time. One of his hands slides up your side, dragging the hem of your dress along with it. The fabric slips away, inch by inch, and you lift your hips, helping him pull it off completely. And just like that, you’re bare beneath him.

Felix sits back on his heels, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. There’s a silence in the room—except for the fire crackling low in the background and the soft sounds of Sienna and Hyunjin nearby—but his gaze is loud. Full of heat. Full of reverence.

“You’re…” he starts, then stops, biting his lip. His hands rest on your knees, thumbs stroking gently. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You tilt your head, a little smirk curling on your lips. “I know.”

That makes him laugh, but he doesn’t look away. Doesn’t touch you further just yet. He just watches, like he’s trying to commit every detail to memory. And for a moment, you let him until you sit up slowly.

Your hands find his hips in an instant and you make an eye contact with him as your fingers find the button of his jeans. You undo it with ease, your touch deliberate, slow—teasing while maintaining eye contact with him. Felix watches you, eyes half-lidded, mouth slightly open as if waiting to feel your touch again. And when the zipper drags down, he lets out a quiet breath, deep and expectant. He takes over then, pushing his jeans down and off with practiced ease, until he’s kneeling there in front of you—undressed, warm, and waiting. He reaches for your hands, guiding them to him, placing them on his skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Touch me,” he murmurs, voice deep and rough at the edges.

You do. Your hands move over him slowly, feeling the way his muscles shift under your touch, how his breath stutters with every glide of your fingers. He makes quiet, breathless sounds in response, like each one is pulled from somewhere deep in his chest. His hands are still on yours, not controlling—just grounding, as though needing the contact as much as the pleasure.

And then, with ease, he pulls you toward him, closing the space between you. You end up straddling his lap, your bare skin pressed to his, heat meeting heat. He groans softly, resting his forehead against yours as his hands run along your waist, your back, up your sides—like he needs to touch everywhere all at once. His lips find yours again, slower this time, deep and searching. It’s the kind of kiss that lingers, that says everything without words. And all the while, his hands continue moving—greedy and reverent, coaxing and praising, mapping out every inch of you as if he can’t get enough. There’s nothing hurried about it. Just heat. Want. And the quiet, undeniable ache building between your bodies.

Felix's lips trail down your jaw, then to your neck, where he nuzzles into the curve just beneath your ear. His breath is hot, his kisses deeper now. His hands explore you in tandem, firm and familiar, sliding up your back, down your waist, grounding you in the moment even as everything around you blurs at the edges.

You tilt your head to give him more space, and just beyond him—across the firelit room—you catch a glimpse of Sienna. She's straddling Hyunjin now, her body flushed and lit by the golden flicker of the flames. Your gaze shifts to him, and you see the way his head tilts back against the sofa, lips parted, eyes heavy with heat as Sienna slowly sinks down onto his cock. He shudders visibly, and you feel your breath hitch at the raw intimacy of it.

With your half-lidded eyes, dazed and dizzy from Felix's touches, you can’t look away. The way Sienna starts to move—bouncing on Hyunjin’s cock with a rhythm that speaks of knowing, of teasing, of claiming—does something to you. It arouses you, undeniably. The sight is like something out of a fever dream, surreal in its beauty, in its brazenness. But it also stirs something else inside you. Something deeper. Something you can't quite name.

You inhale slowly, lips parted as Felix continues kissing you, whispering something against your skin that you barely register. Because all you can see is the way Hyunjin reaches up to hold Sienna’s waist, how his fingers tighten as she moves, how his mouth falls open in silent pleasure.

And though Felix’s hands are on your body, though his kisses still send heat curling low in your belly, your eyes stay on Hyunjin—and that unfamiliar, aching twist inside you refuses to fade.

-

Sienna moves above him like she’s dancing to music only she can hear—fluid, purposeful, and utterly intoxicating. Her hands rest on his chest, her nails digging lightly into his skin as she rocks her hips with practiced ease. Hyunjin’s hands find her waist, guiding her rhythm, grounding himself in the way her body fits against his.

“You feel so good,” he mutters, voice thick and hoarse, the words falling from his lips like a secret.

Sienna only smirks at him in return, her breath catching in laughter as she leans down to kiss him, her pace quickening. The heat between them builds, every movement syncing like waves crashing on a shore—messy, relentless, beautiful.

Hyunjin closes his eyes for a beat, lost in the sensation. But then he opens them again—and that’s when he sees you. You’re across the room, bathed in the warm flicker of the firelight, your body tucked against Felix, your back resting on his chest. His arm is draped around you, and though you look soft and pliant in his hold, Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way your fingers grip Felix’s wrist where his hand disappears between your thighs. But what captures him, what makes his breath stutter and his hands slow against Sienna’s waist… is the way you’re looking at him. Your eyes are on him. Not the room. Not Felix. Him.

Time hangs thick and suspended in the space between blinks. Sienna keeps bouncing on his cock, drawing pleasure in each movement, chasing something deeper, sharper, but his mind lingers on the intensity of your gaze—heavy, unreadable, like it’s saying something you won’t speak out loud. Hyunjin’s throat goes dry. The haze doesn’t lift, but something inside him stirs. Tightens. Shifts. And when Sienna leans in to kiss him again, he closes his eyes… but all he sees is you.

A moment later, Sienna collapses against him, her breath warm and ragged as she rides out the final waves of her high. Hyunjin keeps his arms around her, holding her close as her body trembles gently in his lap. His fingers trail slowly up her spine, grounding her while she murmurs something he doesn’t quite catch, giggling softly into his neck. But even in the haze of it all, his eyes drift across the room—drawn to you.

You’re on your stomach now, your cheek pressed to the cushions, lips parted in a blissed-out smile. Felix is behind you, hands and mouth worshiping every inch your skin. Hyunjin watches the way you lift your hips in response, a soft sound escaping you as Felix leans over, whispering something into your ear before kissing you.

Then—Hyunjin sees the way your body arches, the subtle shift of Felix’s position as he aligns his swollen member to your entrance and slowly pushes it in. Your eyes flutter shut, your brows pulling together for a moment as a quiet moan slips past your lips, barely audible over the soft crackle of the fire. And then your eyes open. You eyes immediately look at him. Right at him.

The heat in his body no longer just a result of the liquor, the pill or the girl in his lap—it’s you. It’s the way you’re falling apart for someone else… but still looking at him.

Sienna shifts against him and presses her lips to his jaw, her hand slipping up into his hair, but Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t leave you. Not yet. Not when you look that beautiful. Not when he wishes—just for a second—that he was the one making you feel that way.

-

Felix moves behind you in a rhythm that makes your breath hitch, each steady thrust sending little tremors through your body. His cock is hot and throbbing inside you, his chest is warm against your back, his hand splayed across your stomach to hold you close, and his lips brush over your shoulder, up your neck, murmuring how good you feel—how perfectly you fit around him.

You're lost in the haze of his touch until your eyes drift across the room. Hyunjin is laying Sienna down gently on the plush carpet, her hair spread like a halo as he lowers himself between her legs. You watch as he lines his cock to her entrance, the slow glide of his hips, the way Sienna gasps and arches beneath him as he finally sinks into her. Her head tilts back, lips parted with a moan, fingers curling into the cushions as she whispers something you can't hear—but it's clear she’s unraveling under him.

Your body clenches in response, and Felix growls low into your ear, noticing the change from the way you clench around him. But it’s Hyunjin who catches your eye. Even as he begins to move, his pace steady and deep, it’s you he’s looking at. Something inside you twists—hot and restless and wanting.

Felix’s hands slide under your stomach, his touch steady and sure as he slowly lifts you, guiding your back to arch against him. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in place, and his breath is warm against your ear as he murmurs something low—words lost in the haze of it all.

The rhythm between your bodies falls into something deeper, slower, more consuming. Every movement draws a quiet gasp from your lips, and when his mouth finds yours, it’s hungry—desperate, like he needs the taste of you to anchor himself.

His hand slips lower to where heat pooling between your legs, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit that already pulses with need, and he applies gentle pressures as he rubs on the bundle of nerves. The next thing you know, your knees begin to give way. Felix catches you before you can falter, slowly guiding you down, your palms pressed to the soft carpet beneath as he settles behind you again.

Around you, the room blurs—the warmth of the fireplace, the muffled moans, the soft rustle of movement. But all you feel is Felix, the steady press of his body, the drag of his cock against your walls, the way he moves like he knows you inside out. And still, in the back of your mind, you’re aware of Hyunjin’s gaze. That quiet, burning presence you can’t seem to ignore.

-

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of bodies and breath and pleasure winding through the air like smoke. Hyunjin’s breath comes out ragged as Sienna moves against him, her warmth surrounding him in waves that make his thoughts blur. But then, just as he’s finding a rhythm, she suddenly presses a hand to his chest and breathlessly tells him to stop.

His body stills, heart pounding in his ears. “Was I—too much?”

But Sienna only gives him a teasing smirk. “You know I like it rough.”

And before he can reply, she shifts beneath him, turning onto her hands and knees, casting a glance over her shoulder that makes something coil tightly in his gut. She takes what she wants, wrapping her hand around his cock and slides it back into her slowly, his hands immediately gripping her hips, and resumes his pace, now deeper, more deliberate.

Just then, Sienna’s eyes flick forward—and Hyunjin follows her gaze. You’re there, just inches away, your mouth already parting as Sienna reaches for you. The kiss that follows between you two is slow at first, all lips and teasing tongues, before deepening into something raw and greedy. It’s impossible not to watch. Felix lets out a low curse behind you, clearly just as affected. His pace shifts slightly, more intent, more desperate.

Hyunjin can feel everything building again—the tension, the pleasure, the strange heat curling in his chest as his eyes lock with yours across Sienna’s shoulder. For a moment, it feels like the four of you are caught in something heavier than desire, something that blurs all the lines and makes everything taste a little too sweet.

The moment stretches, blurs.

Hyunjin can barely hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, over the rhythm of Sienna’s breath mixing with his, over the soft moans curling into the air from where Felix moves behind you. But all he can focus on—all he can feel—is you.

You’re looking at him. Your gaze, half-lidded and hazy, finds his through the haze of movement and heat. And for some reason, the world shrinks down to just that connection. The way your lips part with every breath. The way your eyes cling to his. The way it suddenly feels like you’re the only one in the room with him. His hips keep moving on instinct, but his mind is locked on you, watching as your body tenses, your expression shifting—pleasure building just beneath the surface of your skin. And he knows. He knows you’re close.

It hits you first—Hyunjin sees it all happen in your eyes. The way they flutter. The way your mouth falls open. The way your back arches in that beautiful, vulnerable way. And something about it unravels him completely.

He groans low, the sound rough and desperate, as the rush overtakes him—intense and fast and consuming. It’s like falling, like burning, like touching something just out of reach and finally catching it. He holds onto Sienna’s hips tight, riding the wave out, but his eyes never leave yours.

It feels like a different kind of high. Raw. Unfiltered. Intimate in a way he doesn’t fully understand. And somehow, in the quiet aftermath that follows, the only thing he can think about is you.

-

Felix’s breath grows heavier, his thrusts turning more desperate—each movement more intense, more hungry. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he twitches inside you, the way his grip on your hips tightens as he edges closer to release. His forehead drops to your shoulder, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he pulls out just in time.

A hot rush spills across your back, warm and slick, painting your skin in the pearly white of his seed as he shudders behind you. For a moment, the world slows—just the sound of his breath against your ear and the thundering of both your heartbeats. Then he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade, murmuring something low and breathless. You turn your head, catching the dazed, satisfied look in his eyes, and a small smile pulls at your lips in return.

You stay on your stomach, body sinking deeper into the softness beneath you as the warmth of the room settles over your skin. Felix’s touch is gentle now, careful, as he wipes you clean with a wet cloth and you're too spent to notice. His lips find your shoulder, pressing light, lingering kisses along the curve of it, as if he's savoring you even in the quiet aftermath.

He doesn’t say much at first—just the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours—but then he shifts, nestling beside you and pulling you into the cradle of his arms. His body is warm against yours, chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own. He kisses you again—lazy and unhurried—and between each kiss, he whispers praises that make your lips curl into a dazed smile.

“So good,” he breathes against your mouth. “You feel like heaven.”

You hum in response, your hand finding his as the two of you settle into the hush of the moment, wrapped in each other and the afterglow.

Felix’s arms are warm around you as you lie nestled against him, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into calm. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, planting a soft kiss on your temple. "You’re kind of adorable like this," he whispers with a teasing smile, and you chuckle under your breath, nudging his chest.

"Kind of?" you ask, raising a brow.

He grins. "Okay, very adorable."

You roll your eyes and pretend to groan, but the comfort of his touch, the way his fingers gently trace patterns on your skin, makes you feel light. Safe. The two of you fall into an easy conversation, filled with quiet laughs and soft murmurs, like the world has momentarily narrowed down to this moment — just the two of you under a soft blanket of warmth and afterglow.

Then, from the corner of your eye, something shifts. You glance across the room and see Hyunjin lying on his back with Sienna curled on top of him, her cheek resting against his chest. He’s brushing her hair back with slow, affectionate strokes, his gaze soft, unreadable. You don’t know why, but something stirs inside you. A tug — not painful, just... confusing. Like watching something you weren’t meant to see but can’t look away from.

Felix doesn’t notice. He’s still talking, still playing with your fingers. You force yourself to focus on his voice, but your thoughts linger elsewhere — not fully formed, not heavy, just floating in the back of your mind.

Eventually, exhaustion wins. Your body sinks deeper into the cushions, your breathing evens out, and you let your eyes slip closed — the weight of the night finally pulling you under.

-

Hyunjin doesn’t know how long he’s been staring. You’re lying there, curled up against Felix, his arm draped protectively over your waist. Your face is turned slightly toward Hyunjin’s direction, but your eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly, soft and serene in sleep. Felix shifts beside you, murmurs something incoherent, but doesn’t wake. He just tightens his hold on you.

Hyunjin’s chest feels tight. He doesn't know why — or maybe he does, but he doesn't want to admit it. As if sensing his thoughts are too loud, Sienna stirs against him. She makes a soft sound, a content little hum, and he thinks maybe she’s still dreaming. But then her head lifts from his chest, and she blinks slowly up at him. Her eyes meet his, and she tilts her head slightly.

“It’s just sex,” she says, as if she’s answering a question he never asked out loud.

Hyunjin blinks. “What?”

Sienna smirks, sleepy and sly. “What you and I did.” She stretches her limbs a little, then settles again. “Just sex. That’s what it was.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he stays quiet.

She doesn’t seem to mind. “Same with them,” she adds, nodding subtly toward you and Felix. “It’s all physical. Fun. Nothing serious.”

Hyunjin knows what she’s doing — offering him an out, an explanation, maybe even a defense he didn’t ask for. He understands what she means. He understands it a little too well. Still, he plays dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sienna chuckles, low and amused, brushing her fingers lazily across his chest. “You’re cute when you lie.”

His heart stutters. She lays her head back down, getting comfortable again, but just before closing her eyes, she murmurs, “You should tell her how you feel you know.”

Hyunjin doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move. And luckily, Sienna doesn’t press. She only leans up slightly to place a featherlight kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, already drifting back into sleep.

However, Hyunjin stays awake. His eyes drift once again to where you sleep, unaware of everything swirling in his head. And for the first time all night, it feels like he’s completely alone with his thoughts.

-

A soft movement against his chest pulls him from sleep.

Hyunjin blinks, disoriented, the remnants of a hazy dream slipping from his mind as Sienna shifts beside him. She lets out a small sigh, snuggling closer, her bare skin warm against his. For a second, he lets himself sink back into the comfort of it, eyes heavy, body sluggish from exhaustion.

Then Sienna’s lips brush against his ear, and in a sleepy murmur, she whispers, “You’re losing brownie points.”

Hyunjin furrows his brows. “What?” His voice is hoarse from sleep.

Sienna only hums, her fingers lazily tracing circles against his chest. “You’re still here, meanwhile they’re already up and cooking breakfast together.”

That wakes him up completely. He fumbles as he sits up, his body aching from spending the night on the carpeted floor. The space around him is a mess—scattered cushions, crumpled blankets, empty glasses from last night’s drinking game. The fireplace has dimmed to glowing embers, casting the room in a warm, lazy light. But none of that matters once he turns his head toward the kitchen.

There you are, standing beside Felix at the stove, a bright smile on your face as you cook breakfast together. You’re dressed casually now—your hair a little messy, your face still fresh from sleep—but you look… normal. As if nothing happened last night. Or maybe as if something did happen, but it doesn’t mean anything. Hyunjin’s stomach twists at the thought.

Felix says something, and you laugh—soft and easy. Hyunjin watches the way Felix leans in slightly, how comfortable you look standing next to him. He can’t tell if there’s a shift between you two, if the night before changed something, or if you’ve already moved past it like it was just a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Sienna chuckles beside him, watching the way his expression subtly changes. “Told you,” she murmurs.

Hyunjin doesn’t respond because for the first time in a long time, he isn’t sure how he feels.

The scent of toast and fresh fruit fills the villa's open kitchen, warm light pouring in through the tall windows. Hyunjin sits across from you at the long wooden table, watching as you reach for your cup of tea with a soft, sleepy smile. Felix is beside you, animated as always, while Sienna stirs her yogurt, her leg tucked under her.

It feels almost normal. Too normal.

Until Felix leans closer and grins at Sienna, mischief in his voice. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, “how was your sleep, Sienna?”

Sienna barely glances up, her tone casual but sharp. “Not as good as yours, apparently.”

Felix chuckles. “Yeah, probably the best sleep I’ve ever had.”

You snort at the exchange, and Hyunjin catches it—that faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips, that glint in your eyes. It’s so small. So quick. But it splits something open in him.

His fork clinks against the plate as he sets it down. “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he mutters.

No one stops him. No one even looks twice. Maybe it’s better that way.

He locks the door behind him, pressing his back against the wood for a second. The silence is too loud in here. Too heavy. He pulls out his phone, fingers already moving toward the Lustre app. Maybe he shouldn’t. But he does.

Your page loads, soft colors and curated thumbnails filling the screen. He scrolls. Scrolls. Nothing new. Not the one you filmed together. Not the one where you smiled into the lens for him, touched him like you meant it. It shouldn’t matter. You didn’t promise him anything. But it does.

The cold knot in his chest coils tighter, confusion and disappointment swirling until it turns into something unnameable. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking for. Just something to prove that it wasn’t just for show. That it mattered. Even a little.

His phone screen dims, and he doesn’t bother turning it back on. He just slips it into his pocket, leans over the sink, and stares at his own reflection. Why does it hurt so much? Hyunjin doesn’t have the answer. He just knows it does.

-

The road stretches out ahead, quiet and empty in the soft afternoon light. The low hum of the engine fills the silence in the car, but Hyunjin barely hears it. His hands grip the steering wheel loosely, eyes on the road, but his mind is miles away.

Flashes of last night blur in and out of focus—soft moans, heated kisses, tangled limbs, the fire casting shadows over skin. The way your body arched into Felix’s. The way you looked at Hyunjin.

He doesn’t notice you talking until your voice comes through again, gentle but amused. “Hyunjin.”

He blinks, startled. “Yeah?”

You chuckle. “I asked if I could borrow your jacket.”

“Oh—yeah. Yeah, of course.” He simply takes the jacket he hung on the headrest of the seat and hands it to you.

You pull it on, nestling into the soft fabric. “Is it okay if I nap?”

He nods again. “Go ahead.”

You shift in your seat, curling up slightly as you lean against the door. Within minutes, your breathing evens out.

Hyunjin glances at you at the next red light. You’re already asleep. There’s something painfully tender about the way you look right now—hair falling into your face, lips slightly parted. His gaze trails to your neck and that’s when he sees it. A hickey. The one he left.

His fingers twitch against the steering wheel as the memory hits him—his mouth on your skin, your soft gasp, the way your hands had pulled at his hair, grounding yourself. He remembers the heat of your skin under his touch, the way your eyes fluttered shut, the sound of his name from your lips. And then—Felix. And now—this.

You, asleep beside him, wearing his jacket, peaceful and unaware that Hyunjin’s thoughts are anything but calm. He swallows hard, eyes flicking back to the road.

God, what the hell is happening to him?

-

The stairs feel endless after the long drive, and you're already regretting not taking the elevator—but Hyunjin didn’t complain, so you didn’t either. The two of you climb in silence, steps echoing faintly off the stairwell walls. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He hasn’t said much since you woke up in the car, and something about the quiet feels… different.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow as you reach the final flight. “Everything okay?”

“Just tired,” he simply answers without looking at you, voice low and distant.

You nod, accepting it for now, though it doesn’t quite sit right with you.

When you reach your shared floor, he doesn’t hesitate to take your bags from you, his hands brushing yours for the briefest second. The touch makes your stomach twist—not in a bad way. Just… twist.

“Thanks,” you say as he carries them inside your apartment for you. You close the door behind him and watch as he sets the bags down by your couch, then stands there awkwardly like he’s not sure if he should stay or go.

You smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, wanna grab lunch before you head back to your place?” You pause. “My treat.”

Hyunjin lifts his head slowly. His eyes meet yours. There’s something unreadable in them, something that steals the humor from your voice and leaves a strange weight in the air.

He doesn’t answer right away and your smile falters.

“Hyunjin?”You take a step closer. “Are you okay?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. His brow furrows. And for the first time in hours, you feel genuinely uneasy. Like you’re standing on the edge of something, and all it would take is one step—forward or back—for everything to shift.

You wait for him to say something. Anything. But when he finally speaks, the words hit harder than you ever could’ve braced for.

“I want to quit.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I want to quit,” he says again, clearer this time, and his voice is steady—too steady for someone who’s about to blow your world sideways.

It takes you a second. Maybe longer. “You want to quit… working with me?”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “Yeah.”

“Why?” You blink, stunned, trying to search his face for an answer that makes sense. “Hyunjin—what happened?”

“I just…” He exhales sharply, jaw tight. “I just want to quit.”

There’s something final in the way he says it. Like the decision’s already been sitting heavy on his shoulders, and now that he’s let it out, he’s not going to take it back.

You reach for him instinctively, maybe to stop him, maybe to understand—but he’s already moving toward the door. “Hyunjin, wait—”

But he doesn’t. He opens the door without looking back and walks out, leaving you alone in your apartment, the silence crashing down so suddenly it echoes and just like that, he’s gone.

You stand frozen by the door long after it’s closed, still half-expecting him to come back. Maybe tell you he was joking, or that he didn’t mean it, that it just slipped out because he was tired or overwhelmed. But he doesn’t come back.

The silence rings louder than the sound of the door shutting. It rings in your ears, sits in your chest, and settles like a weight that only seems to grow heavier by the second. You slowly move back, the steps feel like you’re walking through water—thick, heavy, wrong. Your apartment looks the same, but something about it feels different now. Like he took something with him when he left.

You drop your bag by the kitchen counter and just stand there, staring at it like it might hold the answer to why this is happening. Why he said what he said. Why he looked so serious. Why he wouldn’t explain.

A part of you wants to be angry. But the stronger part—the one winning right now—is just confused. And sad. An unbearable kind of sad.

You press your hand against your chest, like maybe you can soothe the ache building there. You don’t even realize your eyes are watering until you feel the first tear slide down your cheek. You wipe it away quickly, like maybe that’ll make the sadness go with it. It doesn’t.

You sink down onto the couch, arms wrapping around yourself as you try to piece together where it all went wrong. Was it last night? Did something change for him? Did you do something? Or was it always leading to this? You don’t know and not knowing is the worst part.

-

✨ The final chapter of Cam is available on my Patreon ✨

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love making with ot8 🤍🤍(separate)

𖥻 love making

♡┊ 𝐂𝐇𝐐𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; Stray Kids

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 :: how I think love making with them would be :) (wrote for everyone besides Seungmin and I.N cuz I wasn’t sure about them hope you don’t mind…might add them later on)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 :: smut ( 18+ ) , soft skz , sub!reader , a bit aftercare , cumming inside

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 ::

He is such a soft boy when he wants to be, probably in the mood for soft sex if he is exhausted or if he just wants to show you how much he loves you. He will not really care if he gets to cum only focusing on your pleasure for example using his fingers and/or mouth until you’re seeing stars. He enjoys eating you out because every time he does your hand wanders into his curls to tug on them while moaning his name. He will cover you in kisses and marks as much as you let him while whispering praises against your skin telling you how good you taste and how pretty you sound. If you aren’t exhausted after the toe curling high he gives you and he gets to fuck you it’s much slower than usual. His trusts slow but deep letting you feel him deep inside your tummy, letting you feel every inch of him. He likes it when you play with his hair while whining his name right beside his ear. He will hold off his own high in order to make you both cum together instead. After you both cum chan likes to stay inside u for a bit longer enjoying the feeling of your soft walls wrapped around him. He nuzzles his face in your neck and kisses your neck while praising you even more, while his hands roam around your body massaging your trembling thighs while enjoying the way your hand plays with his hair.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ::

Minho prefers rough sex but on some days where he just feels so overwhelmed by your love for him or if dance practice was exhausting and you want to make him feel good. For example he gets home exhausted and you already prepared a warm bubble bath for him just because you could hear the exhaustion in his voice when he called you. So when you both sit in the bathtub (you’re on his lap) and you’re running your hands over his sore muscles making him throw his head back enjoying your touch. You tease him by moving your hips against him. Minho lets you take control and just holds your hip or thighs. you sink down on him all at once and just stay still, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against yours and the way his dick feels inside you. Enjoys it when you ride him because he gets an amazing view of your breasts and the way you throw your head back in pleasure while moaning his name. He praises you and moans out your name the sounds getting louder the faster you move or the tighter you clench around him. Makes sure you come first and the feeling of your cunt clenching around him brings him over the edge, filling you up with his high. Minho will hold you tight against him and rub your back while thanking you. He will cuddle you in bed after while playing with your hair and watching a movie.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 ::

I think he will choose soft love making mostly after dates for example a dinner date or a movie date. Will eat your cunt like a five star meal until you’re unable to say anything besides your name. He enjoys feeling your thighs tremble beside his head or in his hands. Enjoys it when you pull him closer to your cunt with your hand in his hair. When Changbin fucks your cunt his movement is slow only speeding up a bit when you ask him to go faster. He enjoys deep but softer trusts. Tells you to moan as loud as you want because he wants to know that he is making you feel good. Changbin likes the way your eyes roll back and his name is the only thing you can say. He will make you cum as often as you want although if you’re to exhausted he tells you it’s okay if he didn’t get to cum but you suck him off anyways cuz who would say no to the opportunity to suck this man off?

𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 ::

This man looooooves soft sex and probably only fucks you rough if you beg for it or if you’ve been a brat. This man will first stuff you full of his cum only to eat you out after. He enjoys the taste of your combined highs The first time you will get to cum is on his dick cuz he wants to feel you clench around him as he fills you up while praising you and leaving marks over your neck and chest. Plays with your boobs too and enjoys how sensitive you are. Will stay insider your warm cunt for a few minutes enjoying the feeling of your mixed cum slowly flowing out of you. Hyunjin is determined to get you to cum at least once or twice more with his fingers and his mouth. He calls you his beautiful muse and tells you how he wishes to paint you naked some time will bring you water and some snacks after cleaning you up and giving you a sweet kiss. POST SEX CUDDLES :)

𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 ::

This man will 100% fuck you in the studio if he has a writers block or a burn out. He will just ask you if he can eat you out to distract himself and who would say no to this man’s mouth and tongue on your body? Definitely not you…Jisung gets pretty whiny the longer he stays between your legs getting to taste your sweet cunt. He could cum in his pants from the way your thighs tremble around his head and your fingers grip his Hair. Lets you ride him and touch him all you want. You can control the pace and where you want his hands to be. Jisung enjoys the way you clench around him every time he praises you. Jisung will only help you move if you ask for it or if you’re too tired. Likes to either cum inside you or on your chest. Tired Jisung is all in all pretty sweet and lets you do whatever you want. If he came inside you he will stay inside you for some time while cuddling you under the blanked because he enjoys feeling your body close to his.

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 ::

This man could make you cum from just his thighs and his voice if he wanted to. Felix is mostly in the mood for slow sex if it’s his day off or the weekend. He likes it that you seem to enjoy praising him as much as he does enjoy praising you. Felix enjoys telling how pretty you look while sucking him off or while he slowly fucks you. He would let you leave tiny marks on him if he doesn’t like have to perform or show much skin. Felix would smile every time he sees the heart shaped hickey on his chest remembering the soft tone of your voice asking him if you can leave a small mark there. Felix enjoys soft sex in the bedroom, the way he slowly moves his hips against yours making sure he hits your sweet spot every time. Your hands around his neck holding him close to you as he brings you to a high yet again. If your hands aren’t on his neck he will hold them on your sides intertwined together while kissing you passionately. He will draw the sex out for as long as he can to make sure you feel as good as he is. When you both cum it’s always together while moaning each other’s names. Felix takes a bath with you and rubs your back and playing with your hair. After a quick change of the sheets he will cuddle with you under the soft blanket while watching a show or a movie on low volume.

Full credit to @seungisms 🤍

( skz reaction ) condom or no condom .ᐟ 

📂🖇️ who in skz likes to fuck with or without a condom

genre: smut, minors dni, warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, slight breeding kink with chan cause grrrr, humiliation kink, overstimulation, small size kink with seungmin (his dick is too big for you cause i said so) creampies 🗣️🗣️🗣️ note: got super carried away and this is kinda dog but let’s gooooo

방찬. BANG CHAN

condom. he already has seven other kids he doesn’t need one more. mainly uses them cause he can’t be trusted when he swears he’ll pull out and cum on your stomach or tits instead. the faster his orgasm is to approaching the less he’s able to think about what he’s actually doing, every single coherent voice inside of him screaming for him to pull out is ignored as his cock fucks into you deep and sloppy - the promise of finally filling you up until his cum is spilling out past your little hole just makes it far too appealing to stay buried inside of your tight pussy, determined to leave you a sticky used mess once he’s done. hates himself for it but his breeding kink is dangerous, this man has to battle himself everyday to not fuck you until you’re full and pregnant, so convincing him to ditch the condoms will take some work. beg cutely enough and he’ll give in. swears he’s only doing it to shut you up but the second he sinks his bare cock into you he’s losing every lousy ounce of self-control he might’ve had, mouth drying up and eyes trained on the way your cunt struggles to take him. and he can feel every single nook and cranny of your plush cunt in ways the condom just doesn’t allow and he just can’t find it in himself to rid himself of the pleasure of finally filling you up the way you so desperately crave.  he can normally hold his orgasm out for a few good rounds, ensuring you’re completely fucked out when he finally does cum - but the first time you go without protection he’s busting inside of you within minutes. always buys you the morning after pill though and apologises for cumming inside of you, trying to ignore how good it felt to fuck your pretty pussy with no barrier.

리노. LEE MINHO 

no condom. when he cums, he cums hard. so wearing a condom just makes no sense to him and he’ll just end up ripping it off mid fuck, filling you up over and over until it’s leaking out of you, cussing under his breath that he should’ve fucked that stupid thought out of you for even suggesting to wear one in the first place. prefers having you on some type of brith control instead cause with the amount of cum this guys feeds into your pussy a condom isn’t gonna do shit. he’ll wear them when you first start dating just cause he wants to make sure you feel safe and comfortable with him but the second he catches wind you like it RAW?? he’s taking a lighter to every single condom he’s ever owned, in the trash, never to be seen again. and anytime you try to suggest using them again he’ll act so fucking offended, knowing fine rightly how much you love receiving the loads of cum he gives your greedy little pussy to even humour the idea. far too addicted to the feeling of filling you up over and over until your pussy is left all creamy and sticky and you’re crying that you can’t take anymore to ever think about going back, especially not when he’s felt the addicting press of your cunt smothering his dick and milking him for all he’s got, he couldn’t even fathom the thought of wearing them again.

창빈. SEO CHANGBIN

both. he’ll always try to remember one but gets such a bad case of pussy tunnel vision that most of the time he’ll forget about the stash he keeps in his bedside drawer. tries to keep one on him cause the amount of times you’ve found yourself getting fucked in some random empty supply cupboard or bent over his studio desk have been too many to count cause this man can’t keep his dick in his pants for the life of him, only realising he doesn’t have one when it’s far too late and he’s already painted your pretty pussy sticky with his cum. he’s far too impatient and just can’t ignore the feeling of needing to get his dick wet no matter how hard he tries, somehow always manages to convince you to let him fuck you raw when he doesn’t have a condom, swearing he’ll pull out but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d love filling your little cunt up again and again until you just can’t take anymore of him. hates the part of him that gets off on seeing you stained and dripping in cum, and might even start telling you he ‘forgot’ to buy more while he was at the store - just to have the sight of your cute cunt all used and spilling over marked into his brain. 

현진. HWANG HYUNJIN

no condom. nothing gets him off like fucking you with no condom. he loves the risk of it all and the fact that he can turn you into a pretty mess with just a few pumps of his dick. loves fucking you raw so much that he’ll have videos saved on his phone of his cock stretching you out - soft praises of, ‘taking me so well angel,’ hardly audible over the sloppy sounds of his cock pumping into your pussy. needs to be as close to you as humanly possible so wrapping a piece of rubber around his dick to devoid himself of the heavenly feeling of your cunt suffocating around him just makes no sense. completely loses himself in the heat of your pussy, locks his jaw and rests his forehead on your shoulder when he’s fucking into you - just so he doesn’t lose all sense of sanity just from the mere feeling of your cunt milking him for all he’s got, and he’s prepared to give you it all. in the early stages of your relationship he’ll try to at least pull out for your sake, but the more he did the more he noticed your thighs locking around his hips to keep his dick firmly planted inside of you, forcing him to empty his loads into your greedy cunt and he just has to thank whatever god there is out there for blessing him with a girl that’s as eager for his cum much as you are. 

한. HAN JISUNG

condom but he forgets half the time. jisung gets so pussy drunk so quickly that protection will be the last thing on his mind, especially when he gets the chance to finally bury himself deep into his favourite place - your pussy. he likes the idea of being safe and protected but his hunger for your pretty little cunt to be wrapped around his cock any chance he can get just stands in the way of actually doing so. it’ll get to the point where you’ll have to carry them instead cause this man is prepared to fuck you nearly everywhere you go, doesn’t matter if you’re in public or not, he’s gonna beg to have your sweet walls wrapping around him near daily. if you actually do make him wear them it won’t last for long, he’ll whine and beg and near damn cry cause it’s just not the same :( and you have him so pussy spoiled that he might actually get blue balled all thanks to the rubber separating you both, might even pull out and take it off just when he’s fucked you dumb enough that you won’t notice, slipping back in and near sobbing the second your pussy swallows him up again, every raw twitch and spasm making his dick swell up even more. likes making a mess of you far too much to commit to condoms so they’ll become an increasingly rare occurrence in your relationship. 

필릭스. LEE FELIX 

condom. as much as he wants to he’s just far too paranoid about accidentally knocking you up to actually fuck you raw. also likes knowing you feel comfortable during sex and as appealing as thought of making your pussy all creamy with his cum is, he’d be a worried mess afterwards. makes sure he always has one in his wallet, cause with the amount you beg this man for his dick he’d rather be safe than sorry. even when you’re being all needy and he’s teased you to a state of being completely fucked out, whining about how much you need him to fuck you when the heavy weight of his cock bumping against your clit just isn’t enough - he’ll still find the will to ignore the painful swell of his dick to pull away and go grab a condom, chuckling and kissing away the cute pout of disappointment that sits on your lips when your hope of having him fuck you raw was once again shattered. tells you to stop being so goddamn ungrateful and take what he gives you :( with or without a condom this man KNOWS how to work his dick so he’ll fuck you stupid no matter what. the further you get into your relationship the more willing he’d be to finally ditch the condoms, but the second he slips into you with no rubber for the first time is the second he loses every ounce of control - fucking into you like an animal and suddenly your sweet, doting felix is gone and is now fucking you deeper and harder than he ever has before, wondering how he’s went all this time without the feeling of fucking you raw. 

승민. KIM SEUNGMIN 

no condom. this man will laugh straight in your face if you ever try to make him wear one. he knows fine rightly how greedy you are for his cum so he won’t take you seriously at all, fully arguing that a pussy as cute as yours shouldn’t be left all empty and sad without a cock in it and would look much, much prettier if it was dripping in cum. and he’s more than happy to be the one covering your little cunt in it. anytime you try to suggest using a condom he’ll make sure you regret it, forcing you to sit on his dick and fuck yourself over and over until that stupid thought was completely rid out of your pretty little head - pumping load after load into your pussy until it’s left all messy and sticky and begging for a break. loves reminding you how much you’d miss the feeling of his cock filling you up if he actually used one and deep down you hate that he’s right. sometimes he gets a little carried away cause the sight of you covered in his cum just goes straight to his dick, likes fucking you in public and making you walk around after with his cum dribbling down your thighs, knowing if you bent over just a little everyone around would get an eyeful of your cute ass painted in it peaking out from under your tiny skirt. and he’ll just have to fuck another load into you later that night from the thought alone. his cock is too big for you, and he gets such a nasty kick out of this fact, watching the way his cum from earlier that day trickles out of your pussy when he’s fucking you - only for him to push it back in with his cock and force you to take even more of it. loves seeing his cum drip to of your used cunt when he’s done and no amount of condoms is gonna take that away from him. 

아이엔. YANG JEONGIN

condom, but he’s easily persuaded to ditch it. jeongin is just there for a good time and as long as he gets his dick wet he doesn’t really care. he’ll always have one in his wallet just in case but the second he gets a taste of your pretty pussy he’s only able to think with his cock and completely forgets the concept of protection. this man needs you almost every hour of the day and most of the of the time wrapping a condom on his dick is the last thing on his mind, he’d much rather it be your pussy instead. can’t think straight when he’s turned on and the only fix is you. you’ll literally have to pry him off you when he’s this eager, lips chasing after you with a small whine of protest when you pull away from him in the backseat of the company car he’s somehow managed to squeeze you into after the rest of the boys and managers were busy setting up for rehearsal, trying to get him to focus long enough to grab a condom but he’s just too busy rubbing the fat head of his cock into your cunt. he’ll be so pouty when you stop him again, ‘forgetting something jeongin?’ and he’s just like, ‘uhhh, no? i remembered to turn my computer off this time,’ and just gets right back into trying to stick his dick into you finally. only realises he forgot a condom when he’s already fucked a load into you, letting out a small sigh of relief once he pulls his softening cock from your used pussy, watching the way his cum follows and dribbles out past your folds. but he can’t find it in himself to care cause you’ve never looked prettier. always helps you clean up after though :( 

© seungisms - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated. 

Go give this post the love it deserves holy shit 😦

🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐔𝐌

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, degradation, semi-public sex, car sex, somnophilia, overstimulation, sub!hyunjin

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was completely self indulgent btw, just wanted an excuse to write about how big changbin and jisung have gotten lately 😮‍💨 also it’s 4k words so if this flops i’ll probably rope it. reblog for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! 

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 / 방찬 ★ 

gets such a huge kick out of making you cum while simultaneously refusing to give you his dick - you can beg, plead, throw all the tantrums you want, he won’t give in. he just wants to see you get all cute and desperate and greedy for his cock before he gives you it :( absolutely loves how easy it is to get you off when you’re in this state and will have you drooling on him like a bitch in heat in no time with simply just his fingers and pretty praises, curling deep against your snug walls while cooing down at you, “you’re already so fucked out honey, haven’t even given you a taste of cock yet. think you can handle it?” all you can manage is a stupid little nod and whimper, hips grinding down to meet the thrusts of his fingers, cunt hungrily sucking them in and he just wishes it was his dick instead. chan truly loves to take his sweet time with you and can’t help but think you look soso pretty after he’s fucked you dumb on his fingers, pussy all sticky and stretched and just begging for him to bully his fat cock in. but he can be a tad cruel sometimes and honestly thinks its the funniest thing ever to ignore your gasped begs, a mean grin on his otherwise gentle face as his digits continue to spread you open, hardly giving his neglected dick a second thought. 

calls you all the pretty names in the book - angel, sweetheart, honey - and they all sound a little too sweet falling from his lips when he’s abusing your little nub. really enjoys watching you work for your orgasm too, its no fun if he’s just gonna hand it to you!! lays between your legs and rubs his fat cockhead up and down your folds, drenching it in your warmth before accidentally fucking it in just an inch then pulling back again, eating up all the frustrated whines you let slip. but god, when he finally does push in and rips one last orgasm out of you its so worth it, and you can barely find it in yourself to care about the way he tormented your poor pussy earlier when he’s stretching you out real good, cock pumping into you so deep it has you slack jawed and teary eyed. fucks you through your orgasm, the familiar heat in your body traveling down in warm spurts of slick cum coating his dick. and he just can’t stop running his mouth when you’re clamping down on him, “that’s it baby, cum on my cock…god, this tight little pussy will be the death of me,” and, “pretty girl, you did so well for me.” he’s so pussy whipped. might even get nasty with it and bury his face between your thighs after, lapping up the mess of cum and sweat pooling onto your thighs. good luck prying him away <333

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎 / 리노 ★

a true menace at heart. his favourite way to make you cum is when you’re not even aware that it’s happening - you’ll be knocked out cold and you still won’t be safe from this sick, sick man. you couldn’t even count the amount of times you’ve woken up to him pumping into your cunt in the dead of night, shushing you back to sleep cause, “you’re okay sweetheart, just couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty pussy all night. just go back to sleep.” just can’t help himself. especially when he wakes up before you and you’re beside him looking all vulnerable and cute wrapped up in his sheets, legs looking so empty without his head between them and what’s a man to do? doesn’t even give it a second thought before he’s working his mouth against your cunt, testing how many orgasms he can pull from you before you catch on and finally wake up. can only bury his face further into the messy heaven that is your pussy when your sleepy whimpers perk his ears, brows furrowing in pleasure and pretty face all screwed up, mind toting on the line between sleep and the slick tongue working you up. such a tease and will pull away just to watch in amusement as your back arches slightly off the bed, hips subconsciously rutting up to chase after his mouth, missing the warmth and practically begging him to fuck his tongue deeper into your inviting pussy. and he’s so fucking mean to you that he’ll fucking laugh to himself, mumbling something about how much of a cock whore you are even when you’re deep asleep. 

minho is a messy eater, spit and drool mixed with your arousal dripping from his chin - not letting up his abuse until your nub is raw and pulsing against his tongue. he’s quick to rest a hand on your tummy when you start to come around, legs closing in around his head and eyes blinking sleepily down at him and he would’ve thought you were so cute if he wasn’t so busy making out with your pussy. doesn’t even give you a second to figure out what tf is going on before he’s trying to coax more of those adorable gasps out of you, teeth tugging on your folds and fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, keeping them spread wide open for him until you’re complaining that your muscles are sore and tired, but he still won’t let up - continuing to eat you out like a starved animal. likes when you just can’t help yourself from tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging his face even closer to your dripping cunt to the point all he can see, feel, taste is you. and you’re grinding down on him like a desperate little pup, nose bumping against your clit in the most delicious obscene way, all sloppy and messy with your cum and you’re just left wondering why your boyfriend is so mean to you at 8 in the goddamn morning. he won’t stop until you’re begging him to either, pussy left raw and swollen before he’s leaving one last spit fuelled kiss against it. forces you to kiss him after too, shoving his tongue down your throat so you can taste how sweet you really are.

“morning sweetheart.”

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 / 창빈 ★

likes showing off his strength to you, especially in public when you can do nothing but drool over him - his eyes going straight to the way you press your pretty thighs together when he wears a tight fitting shirt or has his arms on show and he can practically smell the arousal dripping off you. pretends to be surprised when he finally corners you into an empty dressing room, flipping up your skirt and getting a good look at your damp panties and you can hardly stand the embarrassed flush that takes over when he swipes a fat finger over the drenched fabric. makes some sarcastic quip like, “jesus baby, did watching me work out make you this wet? i haven’t even done anything yet.” and nearly loses his goddamn mind when he feels you gush even more at his words, wetness starting to drip past the seams and he can almost taste it. but you don’t even have time to apologise for being the cock hungry whore he always likes to tease you are before he’s nudging your stupid frilly underwear to the side and bumping his digits past your folds, pumping and stretching them so deep inside you it has your toes curling and nails breaking the skin of his biceps, looking for something, anything, to hold onto. and he’ll have you creaming on his cock in a matter of minutes, muscles tensing in his back and jaw straining as he fucks you full. 

you best believe he’s gonna put those muscles to good use, he’s big and strong, strong enough to put you into any position he wants. loves seeing that dumb look on your cute little face the second he gets his hands on you. with the strength comes the stamina, he can go until you’ve completely milked him dry - having fucked you until you were empty headed hours ago but he’s still determined to force just one more out of you. as soon as he feels you go limp on him he’s all over you, tangling a hand in your hair to tug your head back, sweaty chest pressed tightly against your back as he pumps into you from behind, buried so deeply it’s no wonder he has you cumming on his dick again and again. loves the way you lazily clench around him despite tapping out long ago, his strong arms holding you to fuck up into you like you’re nothing more than a hole to him. istg one of the main factors this man works out so much is to see you lose your absolute mind the bigger he gets. 

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 / 현진 ★

despite being such a brat, he knows how much you get off on having him sub for you. so he might just let you take control now and then if you’re being extra good for him. and he expects you to take full advantage of the opportunity cause he can go back to being a brat in a matter of seconds if you’re not careful. nothing quite gets you going like reducing this man to a blubbering mess of cute tears and whimpers, cock all swollen and neglected and just itching to finally sink into your inviting pussy. he sometimes hates how nasty you can get when he’s in such a state, edging him towards orgasm again and again and he can’t miss the way your pussy dampens at the sounds of his whiney groans. tries to hold himself back a lot for your sake, veins in his neck almost popping while his fingers twist and curl into the bedsheets, resisting the urge to fuck his hips up when you’re smothering his dick with your glossy lips. nearly loses all sense of control when you take his fat tip between them, tongue pressing down around him and he can hardly focus on anything but the mess of drool and precum slipping down your chin, it’s such a pretty sight. he’s so fucked out that he almost misses the way your fingers dip into your pussy, fucking your fingers into your hot cunt in time with the bobs of your head and he has half a mind to force you off him and replace them with his cock.

hyunjin swears he wants to be good for you, he really does, but he’s so greedy and soso close to cumming that he can’t help but think with his dick and buck his hips up slightly to force himself further down your throat, the lewd sounds of your choked gasps only spiralling him closer. he can only let out a series of pathetic apologies that don’t really mean anything cause he’s still humping your mouth like a dog. post nut regret is real cause as soon as he empties himself down your throat he’s letting out a series of excuses, “but baby, you just feel so good!! how am i meant to help myself 🥺” and nearly crashes tf out when you don’t buy it for a single second - he can only beg, hope, pray you’ll go easy on him. but then you’re grabbing his jaw in your hand, spitting something vile about how much of a selfish bastard he is, sinking your slippery pussy down onto his softening cock and sitting all pretty. making him watch as you get yourself off over and over without offering him the slightest bit of relief - he almost believes your biting words that he’s good for nothing but a dick for you to pleasure yourself with, trying to ignore the fact that deep, deep down he loves when you use him like this. 

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 / 한 ★ 

sometimes he likes not giving you what you want. he’s normally all over you to the point it was pathetic, not able to keep his hands to himself for even a second and you just love teasing him about how well trained and pussy-whipped you have him. he hates it. so now and again he likes to remind you how much you relay on him to keep you sane by dicking you down almost daily. makes you suffer for a few days just to see you slowly lose your mind, and he thrives on how desperate you are to have him buried inside you. he knows you’re apprehensive, especially when he starts making up some excuse you clearly don’t buy when you reach for his underwear, or when he pushes you away and whispers “later baby” when you grind down onto his cock but later never comes, and whenever you finally do coax him to fuck you he’ll pull out just as you’re about to cum, claiming he was just too tired. he’ll have to keep himself busy, late nights in the studio so he doesn’t have time to think about how much he’d rather be buried balls deep in your warm pussy, canceling your plans to spend it at the dorms just begging to some god, whatever god, that you’ll finally break and just force him to fuck you. and when you finally do, it’ll almost be worth blue balling himself the whole week. 

jisung just knows you’re planning something when you so sweetly offer him a ride when he’s running late to practice, your doe eyes hiding a mean glint and the obnoxiously tiny skirt you’re donning not fooling him in the slightest. doesn’t even question it when five minutes into the ride you take a wrong turn into an empty street, stalling the engine and clambering into his lap from where he sat in the passenger seat - so desperate that you don’t waste any time, nudging your flimsy panties to the side to sink down onto his fat dick, he has to hold everything inside of himself back from busting a load just from the feeling alone. and he’s been so pussy depraved the past week that he can do nothing but give in, letting you ride him like he was nothing more than a cock for you to use. he just HAS to keep his mouth busy when he’s fucking up into you, anything to keep him from losing himself in the hold your cunt has on him. “you’re so needy, you know that baby? almost worse than me. what? you don’t like being told the truth? you were losing your mind without my dick inside you, it was cute.” and he just can’t ignore the way you seem to wrap even tighter around him, he didn’t even know it was possible with how you were suffocating his cock already. he gets you there in seconds, the stench of sex and sweat fogging up the windows and he swears your cum has never tasted sweeter than when he has you reduced to the mess you are now. 

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 / 필릭스 ★

felix is usually so sweet and gentle with you during sex, spoiling you with pretty praises and the stretch of his cock fucking you so lovingly it’d make you feel embarrassed sometimes. but he just can’t stand it when you take advantage of that and act like a brat, it makes him want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you in front of everyone whenever you give him the slightest bit of lip in public, forcing you to apologise on his dick for being such a little bitch. he won’t go that far though. no, he’ll just sit back and watch as you get yourself off, every passing second making your need for his cock even more obvious - might not be your favourite way to get off, but its definitely his. ignores your meek apologies when you know you’ve went too far, deep voice cutting you off and telling you to strip as he sits comfortably against your headboard, hands undoing his belt and you’re practically dripping in arousal - foolishly thinking he’s gonna give in and fuck the attitude out of you. but he can be so nasty when he wants to be, cock leaking and red and you suddenly feel so empty looking at it. fucking laughs at how eager you are when you rush to sit on his lap and just when you’re about to sink down onto him he’s stopping you, a mean glint in his pretty eyes. “grind on it.” loves wiping that hopeful look on your face and if you even think for a second about complaining he’ll just make you sit in the corner and watch as he gets himself off over and over again. 

he likes to see you work for it, leaning his head back and gazing at your through bored eyes, acting like the warmth of your pussy dragging against the length of his cock wasn’t driving him absolutely insane. he’ll try his hardest to not give in, at least until he sees those cute tears line your lashes. and you never thought your sweet little boyfriend could be so mean with how he just refuses to fuck you. normally he’s wrapped around you pretty little finger, and god do you know it. deliberately bumping your pussy against his tip with every rut of your hips, hands clawing at his chest just begging for even an ounce of pity. but he wants to watch you make a mess out of yourself for just a bit longer, your whines going straight to his cock as spurts of warm precum spill out of his swollen tip, nudging it just an inch past your pussy to rub his stickiness against you. probably cums along with you when you finally do, and it’s so unsatisfying that you’re sobbing and sniffling into his chest, gasping out how much you need him inside you and he’s so proud you’ve finally let go of that bratty attitude of yours.

“that’s it pretty girl, let it all out.”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 / 승민 ★

when he’s so pussy whipped that he’s completely consumed by you. the only thing he can think, taste, feel is you. to the point that nothing else matters and his only goal is to make you cum. nothing quite gets you off like it. he notices it first when he’s fucking you like he usually does, like he hates your guts, the stretch of his cock almost painful with how deep he was pumping into you, sweat dripping from his hairline and his pretty lips tainted with vile words. but the moment you hear a little pathetic whine leaving them instead you’re clamping down around him so snugly it has him letting a few more out without even thinking. he’ll try to ignore it, tells you to shut the fuck up or he’ll stop. but he won’t be able to shake the feeling of you spilling onto him in floods the second you registered the noise and the slight stutter of his hips, his usual harsh demeanour slipping for just a second. he’ll lose himself in the feeling of your warm cunt just see how you’d react, being a little pathetic in the way he talks you through it, mean words turning to pretty begs and he loves the way you gush around him from the complete 180. sometimes, only when you’ve been extra good for him, he’ll let you use his cock until you’ve completely milked him dry, just to coax more of those pretty whimpers out of him but he’ll genuinely break up with you if you dare bring it up to anyone :( LOVES eating you out when he’s in this space, stuffing his face so far between your thighs he’s almost being suffocated with your pussy, letting out the greediest little moans just from the taste alone, making you cum again and again until he’s covered and dripping in your cum. 

seungmin eats you out like a man starved, spit lubing up your cunt and your sore nub relentlessly abused by his tongue - nose nudging your clit a few times, only adding to the sloppy way he was kissing your pussy. but you just don’t have the heart to tell him to back off when he’s subtly humping the bed for some kind of release and his eyes are rolling into the back of his head, wet groans of, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, please,” being breathed out against your cunt everytime he reluctantly pulls away for a gulp of air, almost as if he’d be happier dying with his mouth on your cunt right then and there instead of pulling away. he’ll make himself cum just from eating you out, his name falling off your lips like it’s a prayer and back arching to fuck your pussy up into his mouth has his heavy cock twitching, warm spurts of cum leaking past his tip and leaving a sticky, wet patch on the bedsheets. has to overcompensate when the post-nut regret hits him though and will probably push your head into it, telling you to clean it up or some shit. gets soso cocky when you can’t get enough and start feeling up his softened cock, tutting something about, “just made you cum, you really are a greedy girl.” acting as if he hasn’t just spent the last hour eating you out like a animal. 

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍 / 아이엔 ★

likes to get you off by riling you up. he just thinks it’s so funny - especially when he’s performing. he’ll play into it  when he knows you’re backstage watching on one of the monitors, just itching to get your hands on him and fuck the tease out of him. loves the thought of you drenching through your panties while watching him work the crowd, sweat dripping down his body and smiling all cocky when the audience goes wild for him, just knowing you’re right there along with them. he’ll make you wait a bit when he finally meets you in his dressing room, claiming he’s too tired but really he just wants to see you beg a little. and as soon as everyone clears out and it’s just you and him, you’re on him in instant - wanting so desperately to slap that smug grin on his face when your hands reach for his belt but also needing nothing more than to feel his thick cock breaking you open. and before you know it he has you bent over the armrest of the little shitty sofa he shares with the members, nails breaking the skin of your hips and ass as he loses himself in the snug walls of your fluttering pussy.

jeongin loves being needed, and he especially loves when you tell him how much you need him. but he doesn’t necessarily appreciate when you’re moaning like a whore with his members standing right outside the door. constantly hisses through clenched teeth for you to be quiet, slowing the grind of his cock down until he’s completely still inside you, hips snug against your ass and chest pressed tightly against your back to whisper in your ear, “you better shut the fuck up baby, what are you gonna do if chan hyung walks in and sees you getting railed like the little slut you are?” and he really can’t bring himself to ignore the way you clench around him at the thought, almost laughing at how much of cock whore you really are if he wasn’t so focused on filling you up with his cum until you could practically taste it. he’ll settle for a hand muffling your sounds, cause you just seem to get even louder the second he slams his dick back inside you, muffling your slutty whimpers when he hears faint voices carry through the thin walls. and he’s so desperate to make you cum before someone walks in, telling you to take it like a good girl when he’s filling you up and before you know you’re making a mess of the sofa and his cock. he’s so mean to you that he’ll make you explain to his hyungs what the weird stain left on the couch was just to embarrass you even more.

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

Delicate Flower

Warning ‼️-Sexual encounters, Penetrative sex, fem receiving oral, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Squirting, creampie

“Wait sooo, why are you telling me this?” Hyunjin asked while staring wide eyed at Seungmin. The conversation at there usual boys night for the members ventured off to a completely different topic after one too many shots were taken. “Well, I wasn’t necessarily telling you I was just speaking out loud with you in the room to be honest, you having large ears is your own responsibility.” The slick remark catching Hyun so off guard he just stares in silence. “When did she tell you anyways, you two aren’t that close?” Min smiled at the question seeking to tease his member about the situation, “we are actually very close, she was just simply telling me about her life and what not. Then, she just spilled that she is a virgin, I was shocked but I let it go unlike you seem to be able to right now”.

Few weeks later….

I couldn’t get it out of my head, Lily was a virgin. I don’t know why it shocked me considering how she is with anything sexual. Looking back I started to realize the differences in her attitude whenever sexual encounters were brought up, she wouldn’t completely shut down of course. Though, it seems she was always brush it off and manage to flip the conversation around to another person. Never thinking too much of it in the moment. Not even noticing it. I felt bad about the whole thing, now that I knew it’s as if my mind wouldn’t let it go. Whenever, I would see Lily I felt wrong. She was so innocent and probably didn’t even know who to do certain things and all my brain could think about was being the one and only person to teach her.

It started off as little things nothing major. Seeing her around the company and using any excuse to leave. But rehearsing could only get me so far especially since she was friends with all the members. Then, it got worse I started having dreams about her.

Moving around in bed I notice my room lap is on, “could’ve sworn I turned that off”. I reach over my bedside to turn it off yet again in my mind until I take notice of Lily. In my room. That’s never happened before. “Hyun, sorry I was waiting for you to wake up, we were supposed to meet the members. I was closer to the dorm so I suggested to come get you but you were sleeping. Didn’t wanna wake you.” Looking at her she was dressed in a babydoll nightie. She loved those, though I can truthfully say not nearly as much as me. She always looked so delicate in them, as if she was waiting for someone to taint that perfect little imagine of her. “You know, you talk in your sleep, not fully but I could make out what you were saying.” Hearing that I froze.

There was no way this was happening right now, she isn’t here. “You want to have sex with me Hyun, that’s really dirty of you. I’m like your best friend. Chan thinks of me as a little sister, I thought you did as well. But you’re just a disgusting pervert. Right, Hyun?” The fucked up part about this was seeing her like that in that outfit was making this worse. I wanted to completely defile her. Only to put the pieces back together afterwards. Reaching out to grab her waist, she was always so soft. “I’m not a pervert, Lily bear. You’re just- something special to me.” She looks up at me with those big eyes and I can only imagine how they will look while she is choking on my cock.

“You want to choking on your cock, wow Hyun. You’re just disgusting. Can’t believe you would say that out loud pretty boy. But I don’t believe you have the right equipment for all that anyways. We should go the boys are already at the restaurant.” She goes to turn around but no before I pull her back to settle in my lap. “The right equipment baby, you’re fucking joking right? You don’t think I’m big enough for you?” I could tell by the slight smirk and the essence that seeping through her short ass bottoms she was getting off to this. “Wow, here I was thinking you were a good little obedient girl and you turned out to be just a whore. Getting off on my thigh, just need a big cock to fill that little virgin pussy to the brim don’t you, sweets?”….

Moving back and forth across my lap, humping me like a dog in heat she continues her little ministration. “Making promises you can’t keep, I wouldn’t be able to tell it was in realistically. But go on prove you’re a big boy.” Hearing that was just enough to set me off boys be dammed. I was gonna teach her to behave. Aggressive kisses running down her neck leaning into her chest. I moved to pull her top off leaving nothing but her bare, just sitting there all perfect for me. “You talk so much shit for your body to be aching for me right now, waiting to be filled.” Before, she could get a word at I manhandled her over. Throwing her into the middle of my bed so she could be on all fours.

Yanking her bottoms down while leaving raspberry like kisses down her spine. “Coming to my room with just this shit on, you were asking to be fucked. Every time, I see you walking around the dorm for other men to see you huh? You want them too?” Leaning over her while gripping the globes of her ass in the palm of my hands. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” My brain was in overdrive right now I finally had her right where I wanted her, nothing else mattered to me as she was later out arching while my thumb rubbed figure 8’s against her clit. Leaking all over my bed puffy and swollen. I was practically in heaven, until she had to screw me over.

“You weren’t exactly my target audience, I was hoping maybe Lixie would notice but I could settle for you.” Hearing that completely fucked me up. “Bullshit.” Not even letting her start up again before I jammed my finger inside her. “A-ahhh shit….w-wait Hyun.” Hearing the sloppy sounds of my fingers sloshing around inside of her fat cunt, it almost was enough to deter me from her bratty ass statement. I had to remain focused though, I couldn’t get pussy drunk just yet. “No, there’s not fucking wait gonna take my fingers in your little cunt and like it right. I was gonna be so gentle with you bear and you screwed me over like this. So, I know now you don’t need gentle love you need it rough.”

Jamming two more fingers straight in, I had to prepare her, as bratty as she was being I know she couldn’t take me without any prep. “Ooooohh…..shit f-fuck slow down”. She tried to push her hand out to stop me but I just moved them out the way. “You can take it, all that fucking attitude I know you can.” Having enough of waiting I shoved my face in between her thighs. “Ooo….god…Hyun…yesss.” Keeping up the rhythm my fingers started while shoving my tongue deep into her cunt as I sucked her clit in my mouth. She tasted amazing, “fuck you taste like strawberries baby, gonna have you sit on my face for hours next time ok.” Hearing no response I slapped her ass twice. Making her jolt and her head turned to look back at me while crying. Crying out not she was gonna cum for me for right in my mouth or I think I might lose it. Feeling her clench as I slapped her ass again. It felt almost like she was closing in on my tongue, I knew she was close. “Come on baby, in my mouth. Give it to me.”

Gripping her closer to me as she yelled out, “Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkk.” She squirted, first time ever and I made her squirt. Yea, it’s safe to say I was never getting over this moment. Picking up her braids gathering enough hair to pull her backwards. That arch was gonna make me slow my mind. She looked a mess her makeup was ruined mascara running down her face, sweating everywhere and not to mention the tears. And call me a sick asshole, but I loved every second of it. She was perfect. And mine. “Are you crying baby, really I haven’t even made you cum on my dick yet, too much?” She was so out of it I had to tap her face a couple of times. Must of took a lot out her, first orgasm. “You can take it, right ?” She started at me for a minute, then smiled, “I think your fingers wouldn’t disappoint me as much as your dick is going too.” Hearing that made me laugh, “I hope you never lose your spark bear, because from now on I’m gonna love fucking the fight right outta ya.”

“Prove it. Stop talking Hyun.” Letting go of her face she lands back on the pillows, I move slightly so I can drop my pants and underwear. Leaving my throbbing cock to sit in my hands as I stroke it firmly, Lily tries to turn and take a look. I hurry and place my palms on her back deepening the arch. “You don’t have to see, you’re gonna feel every inch inside you and know.” Pushing her head into the pillows just how I like it. I sit there and admire her, my little brat. I slowly start to push in not wanting to overwhelm her. But it was probably the most difficult task in my life considering how tight she was, it was as if my fingers weren’t even in her before. It takes all my willpower not to just hammer into her. Inch by inch it feels like the process takes forever. “Oo my god you’re too fucking big Hyun, wait.” I start leaving more kisses on her back and playing with her clit, trying to distract her from the pressure. “Can you take more for me baby? I know you can I mean you said I was little, remember?” As much as I want to make the pain go away I can’t resist teasing her.

“F-fuck there is more omg wait are you….s-shit. T-too big Hyun.” I just grab ahold of her hips and start to shove the remaining length inside of her. She screams and I give her a minute to recover, she feels like fucking heaven on the inside so warm and wet. Gripping me so tightly. It’s like I’m in a haze for a moment until I hear her hitting me in the thigh to start moving. Without any further explanation, I start slamming my hips into hers leaving her thrashing around the bed clawing at the sheets. She tries to move her hand to my waist to slow me down again. “No we aren’t doing that shit again, I’m too small for you remember that. So, take it.” She continues to scream and moan and I lose myself in the pleasure of it all. “Come on louder, b-baby…fuck.” I manage to find that beautiful spot that has her quivering and running away from me, feeling it trapped around my cock is gonna make me pass out. “So… f-fucking wet, angel. Lixie can’t get you like this.” I reach down to thumb her clit again. Best night of my life. Before I know she clenching and squirting again. “Yes, sweets give me more f-fuck just like t-that.” And my hips continued to hammer into her overstimulating muscles and all it meant nothing to me, I needed her to realize she was mine. “Yes, sweets throw that sit on me come on give it t-to me baby.” As she started to fuck her plush ass back against me only one thing was running through my mind. Hearing her moan my name until she couldn’t speak anymore, spanking her til her ass was raw just like her pussy was my mission. From that night forward. No more was the delicate little flower.

Hope y’all enjoy 😉 and plzzzz ignore the spelling if it’s wrong I never check it I need to do better.