melstinybrain
melstinybrain
Mel's Tiny Brain
161 posts
she's chaos personified
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melstinybrain · 18 hours ago
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Stray Kids Master List
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Relapse - In which your mental health gets bad again, and Chan looks after you
Handsome - In which Chan doesn’t think he’s the 21st most attractive face
Into The Chaos - In which Chan introduces you to the Kids
Headcanons
Kinky
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Mean - In which Lee Know is upset about his ‘reputation’ and you comfort him
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Steps - In which reader is wheelchair bound and Changbin gets really mad about steps
‘Its the Love of my Life’ - In which Changbin messes up (by @raymefasolat​)
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More Than a Pretty Face - In which Hyunjin has had a tough day and you offer some comfort
English - In which Hyunjin thinks you like Bang Chan and Felix better
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Anxiety - In which Han has an anxiety attack and you help him out
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Destress (NSFW) - In which Felix lets you take your frustration out on him
Games - In which Felix gets a bit annoyed at his game
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Nothing yet :(
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Nothing yet :(
REACTIONS
Finding you after/during an attempt - Hyung line: Part 1 - Part 2 Maknae line: Part 1 - Part 2
No Nut November - Who lasts the longest and why
Stray Kids as Subs
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melstinybrain · 10 days ago
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Lerie’s Stray Kids Masterlist 🧸
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Every work listed here contains SMUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (you will be blocked)
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Bang Chan
Friendly fire part 1 | part 2
Movie night extra part 1 | part 2 ft Leeknow
Teachers pet 1 | part 2
Wet ‘n’ wild
No boundaries
Truth or strip 1 | part 2
A bumpy ride | part 2
A hot mess 1 | part 2
Wrong movie ticket
Unknown number
Vocal training
Hands on my throat 1 | part 2
Private access only
Leeknow
Movie night extra part 2 ft. Chan
Bad roomie
The sleepover
The bodyguard
Pretty boy, Asshole 1 | part 2
Wait, aren’t you gay?
Dont bite the hand that fingers you
Built for ruin
Changbin
Sexual healing
Off limits
Just another work trip
Muscle memory
Truths are for pussies
Hyunjin
Love to hate you
Occupied: Do not disturb
I’ll let the world burn
Pinned and pierced
The things we never said
Wrong place, right time
Nowhere to hide
Han
Stolen touches
Rivalry redefined 1 | part 2
Tastes like trouble ft. Seungmin
Traffic jam
Call me noona
Accidental nudes 1 | part 2
Library rules don’t apply
Felix
More than friends
Shh! Dont tell anyone…
Across the window
Fashion week secret
Seungmin
Dead batteries
Thin Line
Tastes like trouble ft. Jisung
Kissing 101
Look what you made me do
Lipstick stains & sharp tongues
Missing Keycard
Jeongin
Follow my lead
Heatwave
Pressure points
Rumor has it…
Just curious
HEADCANONS
Bff! Straykids in a staring match with you
Enemies with benefits (hyung line)
Bf! Skz and how they fuck you during a fight
Bf! Skz and how they jerk off to you (hyung line)
Bf! Skz and how they jerk off to you (maknae line)
Straykids and their styles of dominance (OT8)
Straykids and their styles of submission (OT8)
How each member falls for their enemy (OT8)
Straykids and everything about their cum (OT8)
Boy x Boy
Just This Once (Hyunjin x Jisung) BL
Part one Part two
Between The Lines (Chan x Hyunjin) BL
Part one Part two Part three Part four
SERIES
Angry Boys (OT8 Series)
OT8 Masterlist
Enemies To Lovers (OT8 Series)
OT8 Masterlist
The Love Diary (OT8 Series)
Chan’s entry | Minho’s entry | Changbin’s entry | Hyunjin’s entry | Jisung’s entry | Felix’s entry | Seungmin’s entry | Jeongin’s entry
Escape (Chan x Reader x Hyunjin)
Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six
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melstinybrain · 11 days ago
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hello! Could I request fluff — first kisses with stray kids?
~ fluff skz headcanons #5 ~
warnings: nothing bc we love fluff in this house. also i mention this in all of my posts now in everything i write; everyone involved is meant to be of legal age + for reading purposes, it is fiction. -> okay i wanna know what this kind of vibe is called in my banner photos cuz they're like pics i got from my pinterest board but i've always liked that warm, dreamy vibe type look in photos and just never known what its called lol?
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방찬 ~ bang chan ~ your first kiss happens after an emotional heart-to-heart in the middle of the night, tucked beneath soft blankets and sleepy whispers
it's almost 2am when it happens, the world outside silent and half-asleep, and you and chan are lying side by side in his bed, the only light coming from the soft blue glow of his bedside lamp. the conversation had shifted from silly banter to something raw and honest, the kind of talk that only happens when it’s late and your guards are down. he’s on his side, head propped up on one arm, looking at you like you’re the only person left in the universe. his voice is low and gentle as he murmurs, “you know i’m scared of losing you, right?” and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that hits you right in the chest.
he keeps brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, like he needs to keep touching you to believe this is real, like you’re going to vanish if he lets go. you’re both quiet for a moment, breathing in sync, listening to the hum of the fan above and the rustle of sheets. then he leans in a little, hesitating for a beat, his breath fanning warm against your lips. “can i kiss you, please?” he whispers it like a secret, and your nod is barely there but loud enough for him to hear.
the kiss is slow and careful, his lips soft and warm, like he’s trying to tell you everything he’s too afraid to say out loud. his hand slides up to your cheek, holding you like you’re something delicate, something precious, and he kisses you like he never wants to forget how this moment feels. it’s not rushed or messy, it’s deep and meaningful, with the kind of weight that lingers long after your lips part. he rests his forehead against yours afterwards, his smile so tender it almost breaks you.
you stay close, tangled up in each other, fingers interlaced under the blanket. he’s whispering things like “you’re everything to me” and “i’ve been waiting so long to do that” with a look in his eyes that makes your heart ache in the best way. he keeps kissing your temple, your nose, your jaw, like he can’t stop now that he’s started. and even though it’s just a kiss, it feels like a promise, like a beginning to something much bigger.
the rest of the night, he holds you a little tighter, tracing soft circles on your back, pressing sleepy kisses into your hair every few minutes. you fall asleep in his arms with a smile on your face and a heart so full it feels like it might burst. and when you wake up, he’s already watching you, whispering “good morning, beautiful” with the same soft smile he wore when he first kissed you.
이민호 ~ lee minho ~ your first kiss comes after a playfully intense teasing session that spirals into something you both didn't expect
minho’s been teasing you all afternoon, that smug smirk never leaving his face as he throws cheeky remarks your way, poking fun at how flustered you get whenever he gets too close. you’re sitting side by side on his couch, pretending to watch a movie but really, all your focus is on him and the way he keeps inching closer, leaning in like he’s about to say something, then pulling away with a sly “what? did you think i was gonna kiss you?” every single time.
the tension builds slowly but surely, the kind that leaves your skin buzzing and your chest tight with anticipation. he brushes your hair out of your face casually, his fingers lingering a little too long, eyes locked on yours like he’s daring you to say something, to break first. you try to play it cool but he sees right through you, laughing softly, his voice low and teasing, “you’re so easy to read, babe.” and that’s when you finally snap.
you shove him lightly, trying to wipe the smug look off his face, but he grabs your wrist mid-motion, pulling you closer until your faces are just inches apart. there’s a flicker in his eyes, something deeper now, the teasing giving way to something more intense. “do you really want me to stop teasing?” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath, and before you can even respond, he closes the gap and kisses you hard.
the kiss is fiery, a clash of stubborn wills and pent-up feelings, his hands gripping your waist as yours tangle in his hair. it’s passionate, a little messy, teeth grazing and lips crashing together, but god, it feels right. he pulls back only when you’re breathless, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes dark and voice rough with affection as he mutters, “been wanting to do that for fucking ages.” you’re dazed and flushed, and he’s grinning like he just won a prize.
after that, the teasing doesn’t stop, it just changes. he keeps brushing his thumb over your swollen lips, shooting you looks that make your stomach flip. “can’t believe you finally kissed me,” he says, full of mischief, even though he was the one who made the move. and now that the first kiss is out of the way, he won’t stop. pecks on your cheek, kisses behind your ear, forehead touches while you roll your eyes. he’s smug as hell about it, but also completely in love with you.
서창빈 ~ seo changbin ~ your first kiss happens during a spontaneous adventure, soaked in summer rain and electric tension
it starts with changbin grabbing your hand and dragging you out into the street when it begins to drizzle, his grin wide and eyes sparkling with excitement. “come on, live a little,” he shouts over his shoulder, already soaked, refusing to let go of you. the rain picks up fast but neither of you cares, laughing like kids, splashing through puddles in the middle of a quiet street, hearts racing with something more than just adrenaline.
your clothes are sticking to your skin, hair dripping wet, and still he’s got that damn grin on his face like this is the best moment of his life. you end up taking shelter under the awning of a closed café, panting from all the running, both of you soaked to the bone. he’s standing so close, breathing hard, raindrops running down his face as he stares at you with that intense, unreadable look of his. “you look fucking gorgeous right now,” he says, voice rough, and you swear the air between you crackles.
he brushes your wet hair back, hand trembling just a bit, his eyes flicking down to your lips then back up. he doesn’t ask, he doesn’t wait. he just kisses you, sudden and hungry, like he’s been dying to for ages. the rain falls harder behind you but all you can feel is him, his hands cupping your face, the way he kisses like he’s pouring every ounce of emotion into it. it’s intense, fiery, but there's a sweetness too, the kind that leaves you breathless in the best way.
he pulls back with a shaky laugh, pressing his forehead to yours, water dripping from his lashes. “i’ve been wanting to do that since the day i met you,” he whispers, voice full of awe, like he can’t believe this is real. you’re both soaked and shivering but you’ve never felt warmer, standing there in the middle of the rain with your heart hammering in your chest and his thumb rubbing slow circles on your cheek.
he wraps his jacket around your shoulders, even though he’s already freezing himself, walking you home with one arm around you like he’s never letting go. he keeps kissing your temple every few steps, whispering “i really fucking like you” over and over like he’s scared you’ll forget. it’s the most spontaneous moment of your life and somehow, it feels like fate.
황현진 ~ hwang hyunjin ~ your first kiss happens during a quiet, artistic moment in his studio while he’s painting you
the room smells like paint and jasmine tea, soft classical music playing in the background as hyunjin hums under his breath, completely focused on the canvas in front of him. you’re sitting on a stool by the window, sunlight pouring in and bathing you in gold, his muse for the day. he keeps glancing at you, eyes sharp but full of something softer, something he’s too shy to say aloud. “don’t move,” he says gently, lips curling into a small smile, “you’re perfect just like this.”
he’s working in silence mostly, only breaking it to ask you to tilt your head or adjust your pose. but there’s this constant pull in the air, like every glance he gives you carries weight, like every brushstroke means something. he steps back from the painting finally, head tilted, arms crossed, and you can see he’s debating something. then he sets the brush down slowly, walking toward you with eyes locked on yours like he’s seeing right through you.
“you always make me feel things i don’t know how to say,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you now, hands resting on your knees. his voice is low, almost shy, but his gaze is unwavering. he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so delicate it makes your breath hitch. the moment stretches on forever, and then he leans in, slow and sure, brushing his lips against yours like he’s painting a masterpiece with every kiss.
the kiss is soft and poetic, like him, filled with meaning and reverence. his hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, his lips moving with gentle precision. he kisses you like he’s memorising the shape of your mouth, like he’s scared to break the magic. when he finally pulls away, he rests his head against your chest, arms wrapped tight around your waist, whispering “don’t ever leave me, okay?” in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard from him.
you sit together on the floor afterwards, wrapped in his oversized paint-splattered shirt, sharing sips of lukewarm tea as he shows you the half-finished painting. it’s beautiful, just like the moment you shared, and you can see it now; the adoration in every brushstroke, the longing in every colour. and from that day on, every time he kisses you, it feels like he’s still painting that same masterpiece, piece by piece, just for you.
한지성 ~ han jisung ~ your first kiss happens during a late-night songwriting session that turns unexpectedly vulnerable and sweet
it’s just past midnight and you’re both huddled on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by empty cans of iced coffee and crumpled lyric sheets. jisung’s laptop is open, a soft melody looping over and over through his speakers while he mumbles lines to himself, scribbling things out just to rewrite them again. he glances at you now and then, like he’s waiting for something but doesn’t know how to ask. you throw out a line as a joke, and he freezes, blinking like you just solved the whole damn song.
“wait... say that again,” he says, eyes wide, voice breathless. he’s looking at you like you’ve just handed him the missing piece to something way more important than a track. before you know it, he’s next to you, bouncing with excitement, clutching your hand as he plays the line into the beat. he’s all lit up, eyes sparkling, rambling about how perfect it sounds, but then he quiets suddenly. he’s still holding your hand. and now he’s staring at you with that open, almost scared expression.
“you always make everything better,” he murmurs, softer now, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. the words come out before he can stop them, and you don’t even get a chance to respond before he leans in slowly, hesitating right at your lips. “can i? please? he breathes, voice cracking slightly. when you nod, he kisses you gently, almost nervously, but full of all the unspoken feelings he’s buried in every love song he’s ever written.
the kiss is soft, a little clumsy, all warm breaths and shaky hands, but so genuine it makes your chest ache. his fingers cup your face like he’s scared you’ll disappear, and you can feel his heart racing as much as your own. he pulls back with a small, stunned laugh, cheeks pink and eyes wide. “holy shit... that actually happened,” he mumbles, before diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper, more sure, filled with a kind of affection he’s never been good at putting into words.
for the rest of the night, the song doesn’t get touched again. instead, he’s got his arms around you, murmuring sweet nothings between kisses and nervous laughs. “you inspire the fuck outta me,” he whispers against your hair, his voice still trembling a little. and even though the track is unfinished, the moment feels complete — like your lips wrote the ending he didn’t know he needed.
이용복 ~ felix lee ~ your first kiss happens while stargazing together in a quiet field, surrounded by fairy lights and late-night confessions
it starts with felix taking your hand and leading you to a quiet clearing outside the city, far enough away that the stars don’t have to compete with streetlights. he’s strung up fairy lights around a picnic blanket he laid out just for the two of you, and there’s snacks, a little speaker playing lo-fi beats, and the gentlest breeze brushing through the grass. he’s lying beside you, arm tucked behind his head, smiling up at the sky with a peace that makes you ache.
he turns his head towards you after a while, voice soft and deep. “i used to do this alone,” he says, his accent lilting like music. “but it’s so much better with you here.” his fingers find yours without hesitation, linking them together as he speaks about childhood dreams and homesickness, about how lonely he used to feel even surrounded by people. his voice is so full of emotion that it stirs something inside you; something quiet, something powerful.
he shifts closer, his other hand brushing over your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles like he’s memorising your face by touch alone. his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, but he doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. “can i kiss you, angel?” he asks, voice barely more than a whisper, and when you give him the smallest nod, he leans in, the starlight reflecting in his eyes as his lips meet yours.
the kiss is featherlight at first, all soft sighs and lingering touches, like he’s pouring every bit of affection he’s ever felt into that moment. it’s warm and safe and slow, like he’s tasting the feeling of being in love for the very first time. when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath and whispering, “that was magic… you’re magic.” you can hear the smile in his voice and feel it in the way he squeezes your hand tighter.
you lie there for hours after, curled into each other beneath the stars, his arm wrapped around you as he hums quiet tunes into your hair. every now and then, he tilts your chin up for another kiss, each one sweeter than the last. he keeps whispering things like “i’ve never felt this way before” and “i’m so fucking lucky to have you,” and you fall asleep in his arms with the soft glow of fairy lights around you and his heartbeat echoing in your ear.
김승민 ~ kim seungmin ~ your first kiss happens in the middle of a heated argument that turns into an unexpected confession
the fight starts over something stupid. you don’t even remember what exactly, just that seungmin rolled his eyes one too many times and your patience finally snapped. he’s standing across the room with his arms crossed, brows furrowed and lips pressed tight, throwing sarcastic remarks like they’re darts, and you’re firing back just as hard. the tension is thick, the air practically vibrating with frustration.
“you never fucking listen!” you shout, voice cracking with anger. he scoffs, shaking his head, “maybe i’d listen if you weren’t so goddamn stubborn!” it’s ugly, loud, raw; the kind of fight that leaves your chest burning and your eyes stinging. but then he suddenly stops, shoulders tense, jaw clenched, staring at you with something unreadable in his eyes. “you really don’t get it, do you?” he says, voice low and shaking.
you’re confused, heart racing, still angry but now something else is creeping in. he crosses the room in three quick steps, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “i’m like this because i care too fucking much,” he says, eyes locked on yours, “because every time you look at someone else or walk away, it makes me fucking crazy.” and just like that, he’s in front of you, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, the space between you charged with something deeper than anger.
he kisses you hard, sudden and desperate, all teeth and emotion, like he’s trying to get everything out at once. it’s intense, almost overwhelming, but there’s so much behind it. pain, love, fear, longing. his hands find your waist, gripping tight like he’s afraid you’ll pull away, but you don’t. you kiss him back with just as much fire, meeting him in the middle of all that chaos, letting the fury melt into something softer, something real.
when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavy. “i didn’t mean to yell,” he says, his voice trembling, “i just… i really fucking love you.” it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said, and the room is silent except for the sound of your hearts thudding in sync. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, like now that it’s out, he’s never letting you go again. the fight forgotten, replaced by something so much deeper.
양정인 ~ yang jeongin ~ your first kiss happens at a summer festival, under fireworks and fluttering nerves
the air smells like cotton candy and smoke, laughter and music floating through the night sky as you and jeongin weave through crowds of people, holding hands tightly so you don’t get separated. he’s smiling wide, eyes sparkling beneath the glow of neon lights, tugging you towards every game stall and snack cart like an excited little kid. he wins you a stuffed bear after three tries and immediately blushes when you call him cute, hiding his face behind his hand with a shy grin.
as the night wears on, the crowd thins out and the fireworks start, bursting in loud colours above your heads. you’re standing near the edge of the field, away from the noise, and he’s beside you, quietly watching the sky with awe. you glance over and find him staring at you instead, lips parted slightly, his expression soft and dazed. “you’re prettier than the fireworks,” he says suddenly, then panics and turns away, ears bright red.
you laugh softly, nudging his arm, and he finally looks back at you, eyes wide with nervous energy. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you all night,” he confesses, voice cracking a little, “but i didn’t know if you’d want to.” the vulnerability in his voice melts you on the spot, and without saying a word, you reach for his face, brushing your fingers along his jaw as he leans into your touch like he’s been waiting forever.
he kisses you with all the nervous excitement of someone doing it for the first time, gentle and uncertain at first, but quickly growing more confident as he realises you’re just as into it as he is. his hands fumble a little, one settling awkwardly on your waist, the other still holding the plush bear he won you. when you pull back, he laughs nervously, cheeks flushed and heart pounding. “was that okay?” he asks, and you just smile and kiss him again.
you spend the rest of the night walking around with your hands intertwined, stealing shy kisses behind food stalls and between fireworks bursts. he keeps glancing at you like he can’t believe you’re really there, whispering “i’m so fucking happy right now” every time you smile at him. the festival might end, but that kiss stays with you; sweet, loud, colourful, and completely unforgettable.
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melstinybrain · 21 days ago
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Lost In Translation (Pt. 2) - Lee Know
summary: your growing friendship brings happiness, but he's scared and pulls back
pairing: lee know x fem!reader
genre: angst, fluff
a/n: used google translate for the korean phases (please pardon any mistakes)
Part 1
Part 3 (coming soon)
~°~
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------------------
Permanent Taglist 1:
@lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world @shuuporanglinos @silly250 @thecutiepieme @stay-tiny-things @inlovewithstraykids @skz-ot8-stay @emilyywhyy @havenwithleeknow @hungryhobbit815 @seungminnieinthebuilding @beabidoobee @geni-627 @ye0lkkot @yaorzu-blog @butterflybananabread @nightshadeblooming @rockstarkkami @finannn @poody1608 @scarlet789 @mbioooo0000 @icannotbelieveit @casperlynn23 @rtyuy1346 @maddy24207 @ari-hwanggg @jisuperboard @nougatjade @skzlover24 @velvetmoonlght @unintentionalbee @theeonlywanii @enhacolor @aria-again @millannniii @silentreadersthings @minhospuddin @sillyhal @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts
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melstinybrain · 1 month ago
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Teach Me {7}
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<< previous chapter || next chapter >>
series masterlist
Pairing: jeongin x reader, bang chan x reader
Word Count: 4,3k
Tags: fluff, kissing, smut, nsfw, handjob, oral (m), fingering, 18+, minors do NOT interact (let me know if i missed any)
Summary: it's finally innie's turn and chan catches you as you leave
**************************************
When Jeongin texted you to come over you didn’t expect him to be waiting for you by the door, all fidgety with red cheeks and a nervous smile. 
‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ you ask as he lets you inside and watches as you take off your shoes. 
‘Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I’m fine, couldn’t be better actually now that we got the rest of the day off. I was just thinking about what I would do and figured we could just, I don't know, spend some time together and maybe watch a movie. Or we could bake cookies, I think Felix left some supplies here the other day,’ he rambles, turning his body to the side so you can’t look at his face. 
‘Innie,’ you take a step closer to him and place your hand on his arm. ‘Look at me, please.’ 
‘I’m fine, Y/N, I’m good, do you want something to drink?’ he already starts to move towards the kitchen, but you quickly maneuver your body in front of him, forcing him to either stop or bump into you. He stops. 
‘Jeongin,’ you say his full name and it doesn’t escape your attention that he shivers. ‘You’re kinda freaking me out here, will you look at me?’ When he keeps staring ahead stubbornly you take his chin in between your fingers and turn his head. ‘Innie, please.’ 
He sighs, loudly and like he was actually holding his breath before, but then his gaze meets yours and you smile up at him. 
‘Thank you. Now tell me what’s going on before I’ll find Channie and have him tell me.’ 
Jeongin’s eyes widen. ‘Channie hyung isn’t here.’ 
‘Then I’ll call him.’ 
‘Please don’t.’ 
‘Then talk Innie.’ 
He sighs again. ‘Can’t we just watch a movie and forget about this?’ 
You cock your head and watch him for a moment. He looks anxious, embarrassed and ready to run away from you. 
‘Just answer one question for me and then I’ll let it go. Did you ask me here to come watch a movie or did you maybe want me to show you what I’ve been up to with the others?’ 
Jeongin closes his eyes and groans. ‘Neither?’ 
You blink at him in surprise, but don’t say anything. You wait for him to continue or walk away to watch a movie like he’d said before. Only he now admitted that isn’t what he actually wants. 
‘I wanted to teach you something,’ he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. 
‘Okay,’ you say, a little confused. ‘I thought you said-’ 
‘I know,’ Jeongin interrupts you. ‘But I talked with Hyunjinnie and then I realised I do actually have something I could teach you.’ 
‘Okay,’ you repeat, nervous yet excited as butterflies fill your stomach in anticipation. ‘And you’re sure you want to do that right now?’ 
A blush covers Jeongin’s cheeks, but he nods and takes your hands in his. ‘I’m sure.’ 
‘Okay,’ you say again, smiling softly at him. ‘Lead the way then.’ 
Jeongin guides you towards his room and closes the door behind you. You’ve been in his room before, many times actually, but it feels different this time. It feels like you’ve just entered a whole new space, one where you’re relearning who Jeongin really is. 
You want to ask him questions, like; what is it that you’re going to teach me? Where do you want me? How are we doing this? 
But instead you stay quiet and let him take the lead. 
‘So,’ Jeongin clears his throat and turns to face you. ‘I’m a little nervous.’ 
‘That’s okay, so am I,’ you smile up at him. ‘But I trust you.’ 
He blinks at you before smiling back and then his hands come up to gently cup your face. The look in his eyes changes then and he’s on you within seconds, kissing you softly and just like you had a little over a week ago. He clearly remembers what to do and you relax against him, clutching his shirt between your fingers to keep him close. 
You deepen the kiss by licking into his mouth and when your tongue meets his, he groans. His hands move down to your hips to pull you closer and his lips trail to your cheek, leaving kisses along your jaw and back down to your neck. You gasp when his tongue slips out to taste your skin and you can feel him grin against your neck when your back arches, pressing your breast against his chest. 
‘Innie,’ you whisper. 
‘Mhm?’ he hums, kissing you deeply again. 
Your brain goes quiet, not able to think about anything except Jeongin’s mouth on yours and tingles of pleasure start to travel through your body. Your skin buzzes with electricity when his fingers slip underneath your shirt to explore your bare skin. 
‘Your skin is so soft,’ Jeongin whispers against your lips. ‘Can I take off your shirt?’ 
You nod, feeling too breathless to use your voice. Your shirt is on the floor within seconds and Jeongin’s pupils widen as he takes in your half naked body. His fingers trail the lace of your bra before he carefully moves them to cup your breasts over the fabric. 
You bring your free hand up towards the clasp on the back and unclip it, the material immediately falling forward at your front, only being kept in place by the straps on your shoulders. Jeongins eyes widen, but he helps you remove the straps, freeing your breasts. 
‘Fuck,’ he whispers. ‘The real thing is so much better than-,’ he trails off, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment. 
‘It’s okay Innie,’ you giggle, taking a hold off his hand to guide them towards your chest. ‘I’m real, you can touch me.’ 
And he does. 
You get lost in his touch, his praises and soft kisses and before you know it, the both of you are in just your underwear and panting loudly. You're in Jeongin’s lap, your fingers buried in his hair as his are clasped around your waist, keeping you close. 
You kiss and kiss and kiss, until you’re dizzy and desperate for air. 
‘What was it you wanted to teach me?’ you ask, panting, as you pull back from Jeongin’s mouth. 
‘Huh?’ Jeongin’s eyes look a little hazy. 
‘You wanted to teach me something,’ you repeat with a giggle. ‘I mean, I’m fine with just kissing and uhm touching, more than fine, but-’ 
You expect it to be a hand job, it was the first thing your mind thought of when he told you he had something to show you anyways. It makes sense that he’s done it for himself before, he is a man after all, a man with needs. But saying it out loud? Even after all you’ve done already, it still makes you feel like a blushing virgin. Which you basically still are. 
‘Oh, yes,’ Jeongin bites his bottom lip, already kiss swollen, and moves his hands to caress your back. ‘I thought I could teach you how to- ehm, jerk me off?’ 
‘Okay,’ you nod, smiling sweetly. 
‘Okay?’ Jeongin looks at you with hopeful eyes, like he hadn’t expected you to agree too quickly.
‘Yes, Innie, I just-,’ you clear your throat and push away the sudden shyness of talking like this, you have to get used to it anyways now that you and the guys are going farther every lesson. ‘I’ve never seen a dick before.’ 
Jeongin’s cheeks turn red again, but his lips curl up into a grin. ‘You mean I actually get a first?’ 
‘Well, I’ve never jerked somebody off, so that’s a first too.’
‘I can’t believe my dick will be the first you see,’ Jeongin shakes his head in amazement and you can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. 
‘I might have seen one on TV, I did watch Game of Thrones, but yes you will be the first.’ 
Jeongin chuckles. ‘I thought you were going to say you’ve watched porn, but I guess Game of Thrones works too.’ 
The two of you laugh and whatever nerves were there, completely disappear. You go back to kissing and touching, exploring each other’s bodies. You learn that when you graze your teeth against the delicate skin beneath Jeongin’s ear that he will whimper and when you lick up a stripe from his collarbone to his neck that he bucks his hips. He’s responsive to every touch and you like it, it makes you feel powerful. 
It takes you a while to be brave enough to touch him through his underwear, but the sound he makes when your fingers brush his hard length gives you such a rush that you do it again, and again. 
‘Unnghh please, Y/N,’ Jeongin moans. ‘Take it off.’ 
You leave a last lingering kiss on his collarbone before carefully slipping off his thighs. You try not to think too much and just hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers to pull it down. The fabric gets stuck at his tip and Jeongin hisses through his teeth. 
‘Sorry,’ you mumble, your eyes on the wet patch on his boxers instead of on his hard length that’s begging to get free. 
‘S’okay,’ Jeongin mumbles. 
You fumble for a short moment before you’re finally able to slip the boxers down Jeongin’s legs. 
‘Oh,’ you say dumbly as you watch with wide eyes as his dick springs free and slaps against his stomach with a soft thud. 
Yeah definitely not like on tv. 
For starters, it’s bigger than you thought, but you know that also differs per person. There’s a thick vein that seems to pulse and the head is purple ish and leaking precum. 
Jeongin’s hand grabs onto yours. ‘It’s okay, you can touch it, it won’t bite.’ 
You look up at him and the two of you share another grin before your gaze is dragged down again. He slowly guides your hand towards his dick and your breath hitches in your throat when you touch the velvety soft skin of his shaft. You carefully caress the skin and Jeongin sucks in a breath when you wrap your fingers around him. 
‘That’s it, don’t be too afraid to squeeze and move your hand up and down, but also don’t squeeze too hard,’ Jeongin explains, his voice hoarse and breathless. 
You hum and follow his instruction, moving your hand upwards towards the tip. Out of instinct you wipe your thumb over the slit at the top to collect the drop of fluid that’s already there. 
‘Fuck,’ Jeongin groans and when you look up at him with wide eyes, you see he has his own squeezed shut. His mouth hangs open and his chest is moving fast as his breathing increases while a flush is spreading in his neck and up towards his ears. 
You repeat the same movement and then swipe your thumb over the ribbed edge just underneath the tip before moving all of your fingers down again and squeezing softly. 
‘More, Y/N,’ Jeongin pants and his hand covers yours again, squeezing your fingers tighter around him. ‘Like that.’ 
You nod and focus on the movement, occasionally collecting precum from the tip to lubricate your fingers and make Jeongin moan in the way you like. It’s quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds. 
Once you find a nice rhythm you lean in to catch Jeongin’s lip in a kiss, licking into his mouth once, then twice, before letting go again. Jeongin’s eyes open when you lean back again and his lust filled gaze nearly makes you let out a moan of yourself. 
‘You look so hot like this,’ you tell him without thinking. 
Jeongin grabs onto your neck and pulls you in for another messy and wet kiss. ‘Says you,’ he pants against your lips. 
A sudden thought enters your mind and it’s only because you feel confident at the moment that you decide to act on it. Maybe reading all that smut will pay off after all. 
‘Innie, can I try something?’ you ask. 
‘Yeah,’ he pants. ‘Whatever you want.’ 
You grin at him and press a kiss on the corner of his mouth before trailing a path of kisses towards his neck while your hand keeps working on his dick. You move lower and nibble his collarbone, earning another moan from Jeongin as you suck on his skin. 
‘Wha?’ a confused sound leaves Jeongin’s mouth when you slip down to the floor and kiss his stomach and his thighs, still teasing him with your fingers, but slower now. 
‘Shh,’ you hush him as you move your fingers all the way down. ‘Just let me try.’ 
Before he can react again you lean forward and lick a fat stripe from the bottom of his dick all the way to the top before swirling your tongue around the tip like it’s a lollipop. 
Jeongin’s entire body stiffens and then relaxes as he lets out the loudest moan yet. 
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he mutters, his eyes wide as his hand reaches out to take a hold of your head. ‘Shit Y/N.’ 
You chuckle at his reaction, feeling pleased. ‘Should I continue?’ 
‘Yes, yes, please yes,’ Jeongin chants, subconsciously pulling your head closer to his groin.
You repeat the motion and then carefully take him into your mouth, not wanting to graze him with your teeth. You press your tongue against the underside and hold still, getting used to the heavy feeling. 
‘Y/N,’ Jeongin moans, tangling his fingers through your hair. 
He doesn’t pull you closer, just holds you, but you can tell by the sounds leaving his mouth that he wants you to move. So you do. You slowly start to bob your head, swirling your tongue and applying pressure, licking and sucking and exploring. His skin tastes salty as does the precum you lap up and you find that you don’t hate the taste.  
All of a sudden your head is pulled back and you’re forced to let go of Jeongin’s dick with a small plopping sound. There’s a trickle of drool dripping down the side of your mouth and when you look up at Jeongin, his gaze locks onto it for a moment before he looks at you. 
‘Are you okay?’ you ask. 
Jeongin snorts and loosens his grip on your hair to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. ‘I’m perfect, baby, I just didn’t want to come in your mouth.’ 
‘Oh, why not?’ you frown at him. ‘You could have.’
Jeongin blinks at that, his hand stilling against your cheek. ‘For real? I just-’ he shakes his head. ‘I didn’t want to without knowing you’d be okay with that.’  
You lick your lips and smile up at him. ‘I’m cool with it.’ 
Jeongin groans and closes his eyes while his fingers move back to your hair. ‘You’re going to be the death of me, of all of us really.’ 
‘Do you mind?’ you ask, cocking your head in a teasing way. 
Jeongin shakes his head and tightens his hold on your hair. ‘Please,’ he whispers. 
You take him back in your mouth again, deeper this time. You feel your eyes water when his tip hits the back of your throat, but you hold still and breathe through your nose for a moment before you start moving again, twirling your tongue against the underside. 
‘Fuuucckk,’ Jeongin moans. ‘Just like that, baby.’ 
Who knew sucking dick could be fun? You sure never thought so before, but his moans and groans only motivate you to go faster, deeper and to try and coax as many sounds out of him as possible. 
‘I’m close,’ Jeongin pants and you feel his thigh clench under your hand. 
You suck a little harder and look up at him from under your eyelashes. When his gaze locks with yours, his mouth falls open and he comes. You try and swallow it all without thinking, still breathing harshly through your nose. It tastes weird, a bit salty and sour at the same. 
‘Y/N,’ Jeongin whines, pulling at your hair. ‘Too much.’ 
You realize he’s pulling you off of him and with a last lick over his swollen head you let go. 
‘Was that any good?’ you ask, whipping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
Jeongin barks out a laugh and cups your cheek. ‘Good? Babe, that was absolute perfection. I can’t believe that was your first time doing it.’ 
You shrug and smile sheepishly at him. ‘You can thank the smutty books I read.’ 
Jeongin chuckles and helps you to your feet, his hands linger on your bare hip. ‘I will once I can think properly again.’ He scoots back on the bed and falls down on his back with a big happy sigh, a dopey grin on his face. When he notices you’re still standing at the edge of his mattress he makes grabby hands at you. ‘Come here.’ 
You crawl towards him and slump down next to his body, cuddling up against his side. Your heart is galloping in your chest and the adrenaline from what you just did is racing through your body. You feel alive and you want more. More of this feeling. 
When you look up at Jeongin his eyes are drooping and you can’t help but feel endeared. 
‘Sleep, Innie,’ you whisper, leaning up a bit to press a kiss to his cheek. 
His eyes snap open. ‘No, what about you?’ 
‘I’m fine,’ you lie. You are fine, but you’re  also aching with want and you’re pretty sure your lace panties are soaked. ‘This was about you.’ 
Jeongin frowns and opens his mouth to argue. 
‘Sleep,’ you repeat, kissing his lips this time. 
‘Will you stay till I fall asleep?’ 
Your heart melts at the puppy eyes he gives you and you smile at him, brushing a piece of hair out of his eyes. ‘Of course, Innie.' 
He closes his eyes and you continue to gently stroke your fingers through his hair. It doesn’t take long before his soft snores fill the air and you bite your lip to keep in a giggle. You stay a little longer until you’re sure he’s fast asleep and then you carefully slip out of his bed. 
Your clothes are scattered across the floor and it takes you a few turns around the room to find your bra. You quickly get dressed and with a last look at Jeongin’s sleeping form you slip out of his room. 
‘Y/N?’ a familiar voice calls out. 
You jump in surprise, closing the door of Jeongin’s room harder than you like. 
‘Shhh,’ you hush as you turn around. 
Chan raises his eyebrows at you and there’s a teasing smile on his face. ‘What are you doing here?’ 
You shrug and try to look as innocent as possible. ‘Uh, Innie and I watched a movie together?’ 
Chan chuckles. ‘Is that so? Then what happened to your hair?’ 
Your hands fly to your hair and Chan laughs at the face you pull. You totally forgot about the way Jeongin had pulled on your hair, it probably looked like a bird's nest. 
You burst out in a fit of giggles. ‘Busted?’ 
‘Did you have fun?’ Chan asks as his eyes glide over your body, probably noticing the hickies Jeongin left on your neck as well. 
‘I did. Turns out Innie had something to teach me after all,’ you grin. 
‘Oh?’ Chan raises his eyebrows in surprise, clearly thinking you’d shown Jeongin what the others had shown you instead. 
‘Mhm,’ you nod, your cheeks reddening. ‘It felt really empowering.’ 
Chan his eyes widen and then he chuckles. ‘Ah, I think I know what went down there.’ 
‘Oh I went down there alright,’ you sigh, remembering the sounds Jeongin had made when you dropped down on your knees and took him in your mouth. ‘It was very spontaneous, but I somehow knew what to do. Or maybe all the smutty books I read came in handy after all.’ 
Chan sputters and you can’t help but chuckle at the look on his face. He looks both shocked and turned on at the same time. 
‘You-,’ he starts saying, but his voice comes out weird so he clears his throat. ‘You tried something new?’ 
You nod, licking your lips as if the taste was still there and Chan his eyes zero in on your mouth. 
‘And you liked it?’ he asks. 
Your face heats up and you nod again. ‘Yes, I did. Is that weird?’ 
Chan looks up from your mouth and shakes his head. ‘No, it’s not. I’m just-’ 
‘Surprised?’ you ask. 
‘No,’ he chuckles. ‘Not really, not after the way you’ve taken to the lessons so far. I know some women don’t like giving head though, but it can be really good, just like going down on a woman can be really good for us men.’ 
You blink at him and warmth floods into your body at his words. The thought of any of the guys putting their mouth there again makes you shiver and clench your thighs together. It probably doesn’t help that all the pent up tension and lust from your little adventure with Jeongin is still inside of you, begging you to do something about it. 
A small part of you wants to ask Chris to help you, you’re pretty sure he’ll say yes, but you worry it will feel weird because you’d been naked with Jeongin minutes ago. 
‘It’s not weird to talk about this, right?’ you ask, trying to distract your brain. ‘I know we’ve always been open towards each other and that you’re teaching me this stuff too, but if it makes you uncomfortable? I mean, it must be weird to know what I’m doing with your friends?’ 
Chan takes a moment to answer and you don’t notice how his eyes have darkened, too preoccupied with your own feelings. 
‘I don’t mind, Y/N,’ Chan says, taking a step closer to you. ‘You can talk to me about anything. Ask me anything.’ 
You blink up at him. 
Did he just read your mind?
‘Anything?’ you whisper. 
‘Anything,’ Chan repeats, stepping closer to you. 
You bite your lip and gather up all the courage that you’ve gained with Jeongin just now.  ‘Will you help me?’ 
‘Always,’ Chan says, holding out his hand for you. ‘Come, with me.’ 
You take his hand and allow him to lead you to his bedroom. As soon as the door closes he’s on you, kissing you like a man possessed. His hands roam your body, disappearing under your shirt and causing goosebumps to erupt over your entire body. He swallows your moan and pulls you even closer to his strong body, not allowing there to be an inch left between you. 
‘You drive me mad Y/N,’ Chan whispers against your neck, pressing a trail of kisses over the marks Jeongin made. ‘In a good way, a very good way.’ 
‘I’m glad?’ you giggle, arching your neck to give him better access. 
Chan hums and lets his hands wander towards your ass, lifting you up with ease like you weigh nothing at all. You whine when you feel his growing bulge press against your core in exactly the right way. It sends a sliver of pleasure up your spine and you want more of it. 
‘Please Channie,’ you whisper, arching your back to press yourself even closer to him. ‘Please touch me.’ 
‘I got you, baby,’ Chan replies, bucking his hips against yours to create the friction you so desperately want. 
You whine again and clasp onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as you try to rock against him. He chuckles softly and with one last grind he suddenly moves, carrying you towards his bed and gently dropping you on his dark blue covers. 
‘Let’s get this off shall we,’ he smiles, pulling your sweats down your legs along with your panties. Your legs open on instinct and this time you do see his eyes darken as he takes you in. ‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful.’
All you can do is whine. ‘Channie.’ 
‘I know, I know,’ he soothes, gliding his hand over your bare legs before he lays down beside you and claims your lips in a kiss. 
Your hips buck in the air when his fingers ghost over your core and you want to scold him for teasing you like this, but then he touches you. Actually touches you. His fingers glide easily through your wet folds and you breathe out a shuddering moan.
Fuck that feels good. 
‘More, please,’ you beg him, bucking your hips again. 
Chan chuckles against your lips, but gives you what you need. He flicks your clit with his thumb before pressing his finger inside and curling it just right. Your back arches and your legs spasm as pleasure builds in your lower belly. 
‘So pretty, so wet,’ Chan murmurs, kissing your neck. ‘Did getting innie off get you all worked up?’ You moan in answer and he chuckles, entering a second finger. ‘That’s it, baby.’ 
‘Chan,’ you pant, closing your eyes as the pleasure gets almost overwhelming. 
‘It’s okay baby, let it go, come for me yeah.’ 
And you do. 
Hard. 
Chan cuddles you close afterwards and whispers sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for being good for him and Jeongin, telling you how lucky they are with you in their lives and how he hopes this will never change. You just hum, nod and kiss his chest in reply as sleep fights to overtake your brain. 
‘Let me get you some water and then you can sleep, okay?’ Chan whispers, pressing a kiss against your temple. 
You hum again in reply and barely register him leaving the bed as sleep overtakes you. 
************************************** a/n: reader is such a lucky gal, isn't she hehehe. I hope you enjoyed this new smutty chapter my darlings <3 Have a lovely weekend!
disclaimer: the last half of the chapter isn't edited yet (but will be) because I really wanted to get it out for you guys. I just spend the last 2 hours finishing the chapter. -brain is fried- so editing now was a no go lol
big smooch and pls let me know your thoughts <3
taglist: @lunearta @danceonmyheyday @gigizzz @kaqua @haven-skies @livixcore @halfchrissyhalfuniverse @jesuschrist2006 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @hanji-coffee @wolfhallows4 @sweatyracoon @symmieangela @hanniesbubuwife @astro3des @galaxy4489 @inlovewithstraykids @httpseungmxn @thebonsaibadass @stay-tiny-things @skzbiasot8 @darkwitchoferie @duwangdays @iknow-uknow-leeknow @yoongiismylove2018 @hyunjinsruinedpainting @steadysuitenthusiast @hwangjoanna @stay1ngsane @stellmeiv @shycreationdreamland @hannie-and-binnie @deadpool15 @thillusionist @emmxxsworld @itza-meee @mel-onthemoon @gloriajovicc @nchhuhi @energyjuice4life @potentialgay @nicolovescats @foreverdebbie @paperclip-skz @yelhsaa @velvetring00 @hyunjinvoid @blckchrryy @0sunshinecryptid0 @iamwritteninyourstars
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melstinybrain · 1 month ago
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𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.
— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.
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words・15.2k
pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)
genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!
warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.
playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes
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a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡
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“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”
Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”
Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“Please, angel.”
“No! Leave me alone.”
Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”
At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 
When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”
Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”
You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.
The air between you curdles like sour milk.
Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.
You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 
“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”
“Because you’re so scholarly.”
“I am not scholarly.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”
“I need to get my steps in somehow.”
“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”
“God, I learned so much about you that day."
“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”
“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”
“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”
He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.
But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.
He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.
“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.
You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”
He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.
“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”
“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”
All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.
“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.
Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.
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“Hwang, I need you in my office.”
Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.
“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”
“Thanks, cap.” Useless.
Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.
Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”
“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.
From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad
Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”
“Yep.”
From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology
“That’s bullshit!”
“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”
“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”
“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”
Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”
“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”
He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”
Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.
The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.
Then comes the yelling.
“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”
“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”
“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”
Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.
“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”
Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.
He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.
“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”
“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 
Hyunjin shudders.
It just might, actually.
Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.
It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.
At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.
Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.
Piazza replied within the week.
For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.
But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.
He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”
“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”
Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.
“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”
Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.
Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”
Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”
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A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.
“I thought you said your order was complicated.”
You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.
“Was it not?” You ask.
“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”
“What? Really?”
“No.”
He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.
“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”
“I do, but you don’t.”
Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.
“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”
“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.
You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”
Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”
“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.
You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.
You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.
He’s thinking.
That can’t be good.
Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”
“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”
“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”
“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”
Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”
Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”
“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”
The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”
“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”
Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”
“I can see it.”
“I can see killing myself, maybe.”
The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.
“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.
Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”
Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.
“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”
You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.
Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.
“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.
“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”
“You have a kid, don’t you?”
“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”
“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”
“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”
You suppose you can’t argue with that.
“What do you have to tell me?”
A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.
“I’m failing anthro.”
So much for a serious conversation. 
“Come again?”
He repeats the mystifying statement.
“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”
“I just said that, yes.”
“You’re failing anthropology?”
“Mhm.”
“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”
“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”
This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”
“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”
Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.
“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”
You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”
“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”
“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”
“Do you want it to?”
“Just tell me the deal, boy.”
“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”
Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”
“On which part?”
“All of them. Everything.”
Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”
You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.
He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.
“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”
“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”
“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”
“Let me guess. Not for you.”
“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”
“To dinner or to practice?”
“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”
He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.
“—you should manage our team.”
“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”
“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”
“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”
“Me!”
Oh, right. “But you hated it!”
“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”
You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”
Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”
“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”
“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”
You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”
He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.
“What is this, mock trial?”
The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.
“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”
“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”
“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”
“I would never.”
“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”
“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”
You stiffen. “I haven’t—”
“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”
You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—
Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.
“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”
He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”
“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.
He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.
You do kick him under the table, though.
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The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.
“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.
The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.
“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”
“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”
“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”
Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.
“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.
“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”
“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”
“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”
“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”
Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”
The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.
You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.
“Go easy on me, yeah?”
While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.
“I can’t promise anything.”
With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.
A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.
Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.
“You’re not nervous, are you?”
“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”
“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”
“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”
“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”
“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”
“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.
“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”
The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.
“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”
One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.
So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 
Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.
Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.
Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”
He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.
“Caring about me.”
Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.
“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”
“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”
It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.
As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”
“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”
You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”
The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.
The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.
You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.
Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.
“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.
Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”
“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”
The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”
He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.
It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.
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A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 
“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”
You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”
“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”
You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.
“Motherfucker!”
He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.
“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”
“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 
“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”
The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.
“You should’ve opened with that.”
“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”
“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”
You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.
You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.
Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.
With that, his attention span has run its course.
“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”
You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.
“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”
“I think so. I hit my stride.”
“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 
“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”
“It really is.”
“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”
“I really would.”
“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”
“Didn’t you come up with that?”
“No, hello? I live in that village.”
He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”
“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”
Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”
“Really?”
“No.”
You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.
“But I do give a fuck about you.”
There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.
He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.
Then he opens his texts.
Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡
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He picks you up at 7:53.
You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.
“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.
Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”
You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”
“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”
“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”
“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me, Minho.”
“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”
“I want nothing to do with this.”
When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.
“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”
“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”
He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”
“I’m okay, I think.”
“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.
You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”
“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.
You purchase an hour.
One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.
But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.
“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.
You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.
You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.
“I already did,” you finally answer.
“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”
“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”
“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”
Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”
He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”
“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”
“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”
“Then you’re smarter than you look.”
“Well, you look—”
His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.
“What was that?”
“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 
When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 
He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.
Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.
Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.
“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”
“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”
“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”
“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”
He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”
“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”
You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 
Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.
He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.
“Do you want to be alone?”
You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 
“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.
When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 
Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.
You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.
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Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.
Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 
Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.
Then came the arcade.
Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 
In person, that is.
That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.
Then you listen to it again.
And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.
As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.
Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.
“It’s been a while,” he greets.
“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”
“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”
You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”
Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.
Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 
Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.
You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.
“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.
His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.
“Is this enough space?”
More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.
“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”
Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.
The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.
The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.
There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 
“How do you see under these things?”
“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”
“And?”
“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.
Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.
But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.
This cannot be his burden alone.
You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.
“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”
You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”
The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.
“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”
His role model.
“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”
The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”
“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.
“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”
You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.
Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.
You stop thinking after that.
You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.
You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.
“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”
His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.
“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”
“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”
You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?
“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.
“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.
“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”
Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.
The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.
“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”
Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.
“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.
“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”
“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.
“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”
Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”
The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?
“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”
When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”
You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.
“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.
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Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.
A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 
Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.
“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”
You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”
He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”
You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”
Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.
“Traitor.”
Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 
“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.
You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 
“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”
He stops speaking.
“Is that all?”
“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”
“You are about to be a professional athlete.”
“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”
Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.
“Let’s get this over with.”
At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.
At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.
You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.
Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.
“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”
Hyunjin is already out the door.
A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.
“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 
“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”
Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”
Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”
Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”
“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”
“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”
“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”
“She really is.”
A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.
Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.
It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.
At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.
Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 
Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.
Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 
“Yeonwoo, right?”
He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.
“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”
“Also a singer?”
He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”
“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”
Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.
“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.
“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”
“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”
“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”
“The arcade wasn’t enough?”
“Don’t insult me.”
“Whenever you want, then.”
“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”
“Bet.”
They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.
“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”
Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”
Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 
Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.
But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.
He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.
It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?
Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”
Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.
“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”
Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.
Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.
Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.
But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.
You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.
You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.
It has always been him.
The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 
It’s not awkward this time.
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Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.
He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 
He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.
The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.
He balls his fingers into fists.
“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”
An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.
“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”
His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.
He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.
“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”
Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.
The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”
Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”
Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.
“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 
“Love you too, Bin.”
Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.
“The short answer,” she deadpans.
He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.
In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.
Hyunjin thanks you.
You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.
What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.
You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.
Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.
“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 
“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.
He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.
He calls out to you.
You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.
You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 
Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.
“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.
A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”
Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they���re colliding again.
He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.
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“Hwang, I need you in my office.”
Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.
“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”
“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.
Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.
Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”
From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano
“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”
In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”
You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.
“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 
She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.
Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?
He’ll be here in eight minutes.
You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.
Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.
You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.
He finds you a sobbing mess.
“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”
“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”
“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”
“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”
Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.
Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.
“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 
He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.
You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”
He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”
“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”
“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”
You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”
He returns in a flash. “You love me.”
You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.
“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”
“No, no. The opposite, actually.”
Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”
“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.
“Duty calls, my love.”
“Tell me your thing later too?”
“Of course.”
You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”
He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.
“Hypocrite.”
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Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]
This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.
I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.
As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. But only sometimes.
You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It really fucking does.
I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I’ll genuinely commit homicide if I have to do all this again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.
Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.
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🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
3K notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 1 month ago
Text
STRAY KIDS MASTERLIST
in-progress = 📜
complete = ⭐
requests = 💥
✅ = headcanons
🥀 = angst
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One Shots
➡Just a Touch ⭐ Soulmate AU
➡ Trinity ⭐💥 Mafia AU
Series
➡Escape to District 9 masterlist 📜
Drabbles
➡ Drabble #2 ⭐ Idol!Chan
Texts
➡ Texts with bf!Chan - 1
➡ Happy Birthday (2023)
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One Shots
➡ All Night ⭐ Bartender AU
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One Shots
➡ Dim the Spotlight ⭐💥 Bodyguard AU, Husband!Changbin
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One Shots
➡ Oh, it’s you  ⭐💥Enemies to Lovers AU
➡ Nice Try ⭐ Friends to Lovers AU
Texts
➡Happy Birthday (2024)
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One Shots
➡ We Need to Talk  ⭐💥 Mafia AU, Husband!Jisung
➡ Of course, I care ⭐💥Mafia AU, Bodyguard AU
Texts
➡Happy Birthday (2023)
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One Shots
➡ The Unspoken Rule ⭐Best Friend’s Brother AU
Texts
➡ Happy Birthday (2023)
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One Shots
➡ Smile ⭐ Classmate AU, Friends to Lovers AU
Texts
➡ Happy Birthday (2023)
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One Shots
➡ Match Up ⭐ Friends to Lovers AU, Co-worker AU
➡ Happy Birthday (2024)
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Texts
➡Texting your bestie - Hyung line || Maknae Line
➡When you get into an accident - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
➡What are you? A Disney Princess?
➡Close Up - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
➡Contact Names - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
➡Could you do me a favor?
➡Random texts ONE
➡Impatient, are we?💥
➡Oops! Wrong Number! - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
➡ Aggressive Affection
➡ Song Association
➡ A or B?
➡ School Blues - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
➡ Mother’s Day - 2024
➡ Friend or Headache?
➡ BUT THE CHILDREN (ft. SKZOO)
➡ Things to call your homies
SKZ as:
➡ DCCC Shirts
Headcanons/Reactions
➡When you have a dangerous job/hobby ✅
➡ Sweet Sugar - Hyung Line || Maknae Line
Other
➡Flowers are sad ⭐🥀
➡SCORPIUS 📜 ONE TWO THREE FOUR
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melstinybrain · 2 months ago
Text
500 Follower Part 1
Sex Education
[Bangchan/Maknae Line x Reader]
MDNI!!!!
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Word Count: 6,554 😳
Not proofread
SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend Bangchan decided his Maknae need a little lesson on intimacy… you say yes to helping him.
WARNINGS: Sex, unprotected P in V, F!Recieving and M!Reciving Oral, Rough Fingering, Nipple Play, Degradation AND Praising, Choking mentioned like one, Voyuerism and HEAVY Exhibitionism, Begging, Munch!Han, Male masturbation, Use of Pet names, i’m sure i forgot stuff im sorry
NO TAGS DUE TO CONTENT
My Library HERE :)
_________________________
"Hyung?”
Chan groaned, rolling his eyes as the youngest members of his group came running up to him, Seungmin, Felix, Han and Jeongin murmuring to each other with flushed faces.
"Can I help you?"
The older sighed, closing his phone as the four stopped in front of him. He was sat alone on the couch, everyone else doing their own thing and preparing for bed after a long day of practice and work. He wanted nothing more than to go up to his room, take a nice, warm shower and sleep the night away with you.
But his boys seemed to have other plans.
"We just wanted to know..." Jeongin started, looking over at Seungmin and fidgeting with his hands. "...How do you get a girl to sleep with you?"
"What."
"I mean," Seungmin piped up. "How do you get a girl to be willing to have sex with you? We're trying to figure out how to do it."
Chan blinked, unsure what to make of his bandmates words. Did they think he had some sort of secret knowledge that would give them the ability to bed any girl they wanted? That he was some sort of Casanova?
"What makes you think I have any idea?" He asked, leaning forward to place his phone on the table before them.
"Because you have a girlfriend." Jeongin huffed, clearly frustrated that the older man wasn't understanding what they wanted.
"And? You think all I do is have sex with her?"
"Well, yeah!" Han spoke up, gesturing to the door. "I walked in on you guys just last week fucking away on the couch like animals.”
Chan flushed red, recalling the time they had been caught and how quickly he had pushed you off his lap and pulled his pants back up, hiding the both of you from their curious gazes.
"You guys... You're young, okay? You don't have to worry about anything like that. Don't worry about things like sex until you're ready."
"We’re in our 20’s old man." Seungmin said, voice firm and resolute as he crossed his arms over his chest. The other maknae nodded in agreement, shifting their weight from foot to foot as they avoided the older's gaze. “We just want to know how. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
Chan groaned, looking at his phone with a frown before looking back up at the group before him.
He couldn’t tell them everything he knew. They were still young and inexperienced, and the last thing he needed was them trying to put their hands all over you.
But he couldn't let them keep thinking that the only way to a girl's heart was through her vagina.
"I'm not gonna give you a full list, but I can give you some tips."
A few days later, Chan approached you with the idea. “Hi Channie, how was your day babe?” Your voiced cooed as he walked into the kitchen of the dorms.
You had a towel in your hands and were busy cleaning the mess the boys had left behind after a meal, humming to yourself as you moved around.
He didn’t respond at first, instead approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"My day was fine, just thought of something interesting. Wanna help me teach the kids a lesson?"
"A lesson?" You asked, turning your head slightly to look up at him. He hummed, kissing your cheek before speaking again.
"Remember a few days ago, when the kids asked me how to get girls to have sex with them?"
"Yeah, they said you didn't give them any real answers, though."
"That's because I didn't want them trying to seduce my beautiful girlfriend." He purred, hands sliding up your shirt to feel your bare skin. You giggled, reaching back and placing your hands over his.
"I think that's a great idea." You hummed, feeling him squeeze your breasts. "I think we should have a bit of fun with it. I have this weird desire to take this entirely too far.”
"That can be arranged."
You had taken the rest of the night and the next morning to prepare yourself. You had told Chan that you were going to make the most of the situation and have a bit of fun. You all gathered in you and Chan’s bedroom that night and went over some ground rules and boundaries.
But it had taken Chan no time at all to have you pinned beneath him, both of you naked. His deep voice was purring in your ear as he hands began roaming your body. You could sense the four pairs of eyes watching you two, but the sensation of Chan’s hands was entirely pulling your focus.
He had begun slowly, fingers gently ghosting over the curve of your neck, then the top of your breasts. His hands cupped your chest, squeezing the flesh as he pressed his lips against the spot where your neck met your shoulder.
Your hands lifted and grabbed his, and he watched you as you guided him to touch the soft buds on your chest. He didn't need much direction after that, his thumbs and forefingers coming up to pinch your nipples as he spoke to the four Maknae. “The key to having sex with a woman is finding what makes her tick. She has to feel good, she is your priority.”
You let out a soft moan, squirming beneath him as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. You could hear the four men to your left breathing hard, and you wondered what kind of faces they were making. Were their cocks already tenting their pants, or were they trying their hardest to maintain composure?
Chan didn’t stop, his lips traveling across your shoulder and to the other side of your neck, pressing light kisses across your skin as his fingers continued toying with your nipples.
"When she feels good, she's more likely to want you to fuck her. It's better for the both of you if she's wet and excited. You know how to find her clit, right boys?"
They didn't respond, and Chan stopped moving. One of the little perks you and him thought up. If the Maknae didn’t behave, then he’d punish you. You both knew the guys would get off on the imagery of you coming undone over and over, so why not use it to make them behave?
"Answer me, kids."
"Yes hyung."
“Good. I’ll make you guys show me later.” All four boys audibly gulped at the realization.
Chan removed his hands from your breasts, sliding his fingers down to press against your already soaked core. Your breath hitched, and you bucked against him.
"If you wanna please a girl, make sure to find her clit. It'll make her come a lot faster and harder than if you just start putting your dick in."
His fingers pressed against you, rubbing at the bundle of nerves, sending chills up your spine. You whined, legs spreading further on instinct as your eyes fluttered shut.
"Don't forget about the rest of her body, though. Girls like to have their breasts and nipples played with."
You whimpered as he began grinding against you, his hard cock pressing against where you craved it most. You reached down between your bodies, hand gripping his hip tightly.
"And, when she's getting close, make sure to give her something to hold onto. Let her dig her nails into you, or have her grab the sheets. If you really wanna have fun, let her nails paint your back in scratches.”
He pulled away, leaving your body cold as his hands slipped under your thighs. He yanked you forward to turn you towards the four other men, causing you to fall back and brace yourself with your hands. You watched with wide eyes as he got comfortable on his knees, his hands gripping the back of your thighs tightly.
You felt a surge of embarrassment wash over you.
You were spread for the four of them, dripping wet and wanting, your boyfriend between your legs.
"Now, I want you to watch this." Chan instructed, leaning forward and latching his mouth onto your clit. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves.
He was always so good at this.
Chan's hands slid from the backs of your thighs, and up your sides. He didn't hesitate to grab handfuls of your ass, and squeezed hard enough for you to let out a whine.
"Fuck, babe go easy!" He did just the opposite. Something primal awoke in him, as it always does. He was gonna ruin you, and when he was done, the four men watching would do the same.
His grip tightened, and you were sure his hands would leave bruises. He sucked at your clit, swirling his tongue around the little nub. Your hands came down to grip his hair, and you couldn't help but grind your hips against his face.
The sounds of his tongue working your pussy were absolutely filthy, and the way he was groaning into you was making the coil in your stomach wind tighter.
You didn't care about the audience, or how lewd the situation was. Your sole focus was the man between your legs, and the pleasure he was giving you.
"C-Chan! I'm gonna cum!"
"Then cum, baby." He hummed against you, and the vibrations sent you over the edge. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back and curling in on yourself.
You were panting, chest heaving as you tried to regain control of your senses.
"Now, did any of you see what I did?"
"You licked her pussy." Han blurted out, his face flushed and his hands shaking.
"Yeah, no shit. Did you notice anything else? Like, how I moved my hands, or where I put them?"
There was silence, and Chan let out an irritated huff.
He turned his head and looked over at the four Maknae, noticing their flushed faces and fidgeting hands. He was sure the four of them had hard-ons, and that they were aching to touch themselves.
But the thought of any of them being between your legs and eating you out?
Chan almost wanted to call off the whole thing.
Almost.
“Han get up.”
He stood, turning around and facing the four Maknae. He took a seat on the bed beside you, grabbing your arm and pulling you close. He kissed your temple, and whispered into your ear. “You’re gonna take a turn.”
Han slowly stood, trying to shift his weight to adjust the achingly hard cock pushing against his pants. The poor guy looked like he was gonna be sick, but there was a sparkle in his eye that made you excited.
Chan was a bit nervous. You had agreed to this, but was he willing to actually share you? Was it worth seeing the four maknae come undone?
Chan decided it was.
"You're gonna do exactly what I did, okay?"
"What if I fuck up?"
"I'll show you what to do, idiot." Bad cop.
“You’re gonna do great honey, I’ll help you.” Good cop.
Just another little perk you and Chan had decided on adding. Who doesn’t like getting degraded or praised?
Han kneeled between your legs, his eyes looking down at the mess between your thighs. You could tell he was nervous, and his shaking hands did little to reassure you that he could handle himself.
"Hands." Chan barked, and Han quickly placed his hands on the backs of your thighs. Chan reached over and gripped his wrists, moving his hands closer and forcing him to squeeze the supple flesh.
"Make sure you can reach everything."
Han gulped, nodding his head.
"What if I do a bad job?"
"If it doesn't feel good, she'll tell you."
He nodded, his grip tightening and making you shiver. He leaned forward, his warm breath fanning across your exposed pussy.
"Start with little licks, work up to the big stuff.”
“Wait!” It came out breathy, but all five guys looked at you. “You four feel so covered…please, don’t make me and Chan look so exposed.”
Seungmin, Jeongin, Felix and Han all shared a panicked look. It was true, you and Chan were completely void of clothes and the four of them were still fully dressed.
“Don’t want you to get messy now do we?” You cooed as you ran a hand through Han’s hair, him still kneeling between your legs, almost frozen.
One by one, they all got undressed.
Their hard cocks all bobbed and swayed with their movements, and the sight of their naked bodies sent a pulse straight to your pussy.
This was the best decision ever.
Han took a deep breath before he leaned forward, his tongue pressing lightly against your core.
You moaned softly, encouraging him.
Han seemed to get a bit more confident, his grip on the backs of your thighs tightening as he continued to lap at your pussy.
He wasn't very good.
His licks were a little too soft, his tongue moving in slow, wide motions. You let out a fustrated groan and Chan knew exactly what that meant. He fisted the hair at the back of Han’s head and guided his head deeper into you. Han’s nose pressed against your clit and you let out a loud moan at the sensation. “Get in there, don’t be gentle.”
You could tell Han was panicking. The younger was squirming against the harsh grip Chan had on his hair. His hands slid further up your thighs and grabbed a hold of your ass, squeezing roughly.
It was almost cute.
Chan didn't loosen his grip, though. If anything, he just held Han tighter.
"Make sure you pay attention, boys. When she's squirming, you know you're doing a good job."
You whimpered and rolled your hips, feeling his nose bump against your clit again. His grip on your ass was getting tighter, and the way his tongue was moving was making you see stars.
"Han, baby, you're doing so good."
Chan growled, his free hand moving up to grip your hip.
You could sense the tension coming from the older man.
Was he getting possessive?
You couldn't deny the thrill that sent up your spine.
"She's getting close." Chan growled, his grip tightening on the both of you. "If she tells you to stop, listen. She'll need a minute."
Han's pace sped up, and Chan released his hold on the younger, his hands going back to gripping the sheets.
You whimpered, squirming under his touch. You could feel the coil in your belly winding tighter, ready to snap.
"Han! I'm so close!"
Your orgasm hit you hard, and Han was quick to pull away. His chin was glistening, and he had a smug look on his face.
Chan’s breathing was tight as Han spoke. “I wanna do that again.”
Chan didn’t waste a moment. He reached out and grabbed the younger by the neck, pulling him close. He leaned forward, growling in his ear.
"You wanna taste her again? You think you can handle it?"
Han nodded his head, swallowing thickly. Chan hummed, letting go of his neck and moving to lay on his side.
"Good. Felix, come here."
The younger was quick to stand, walking around the bed and settling between your legs.
"You're gonna learn how to do this right, okay?"
Chan leaned up and placed his hand on the back of the youngest's head. He leaned forward, forcing the maknae's head down between your legs.
Felix's lips and tongue were a bit rough, and his technique wasn't the best, but he was eager to please. He would lick and suck at your clit, only stopping every once and awhile to take a breath.
"She likes her clit played with, not sucked on." Chan hissed, moving his hands to your hips. Felix pulled back and you whined, rolling your hips.
"Sorry, hyung."
"That's okay, sweetheart. You're learning. Here, let's try something." You sat up a bit and signaled to Chan.
Chan gently pushed him back and slid between your legs.
"Watch."
He didn't waste a moment, latching his mouth onto the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a high pitched squeal, squirming and grabbing his hair.
"You're a fucking tease, Channie." You breathed, grinding your hips against his face.
He didn't say anything, instead sliding his tongue down and pushing it inside of you.
"Fuck!"
Your back arched, and Chan pulled his mouth away from you. He looked at Felix and the maknae nodded.
"Don't suck, play with it with your tongue. Make sure to get her dripping wet, then push your tongue inside. And move your head with her, or you'll hurt her."
Felix nodded, his hands grabbing your thighs. He was eager to start again, and leaned forward. His tongue pressed against your clit, and he started moving his head like Chan told him to.
"Felix... baby, that's so good."
His tongue was a lot gentler than Chan's. His licks were shorter, quicker, but it was making you feel good as hell.
He wasn't hesitant about it, and the fact that he was doing what Chan said was a major turn on. You had always loved a man who followed orders.
You could feel his nails digging into your skin as he continued lapping at your clit. The pressure was building in your core, and you knew that you were going to come hard.
"I'm gonna come, baby."
"Good." Felix's voice was low and muffled against you.
You let out a loud moan, your body arching off the bed. Felix's tongue kept moving, even when your body went slack.
You were panting, and you could hear the others talking.
"That was really good."
"You think?"
"Yeah! It was really hot."
You rolled over, pressing your face into Chan's chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling against him.
"Chan... I need a break."
"Okay. We're taking a break."
The two of you got comfortable, laying down next to each other. Your head was resting on his chest, his arm around your waist and his thumb rubbing small circles into your side.
"What about us?" Seungmin spoke up, looking at the two of you with a pout.
“C’mere.” You sat up and gestured Seungmin to stand in front of you as you laid on your stomach, his cock in your face.
Your boyfriend had a firm grip on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. Seungmin was hesitant, his hands shaky as he placed them on your head.
You opened your mouth, looking up at the boy.
Seungmin was the biggest of the four Maknae, but his size wasn’t gonna scare you off.
"I'm gonna suck you off, okay?"
Seungmin's breath hitched, his grip on your hair tightening.
"O-Okay."
"Tell me when to stop."
You took him into your mouth, your hands grabbing the backs of his thighs.
Seungmin whimpered, his grip tightening on your head. He was careful not to push you, though, and the fact that he was letting you lead the pace was a huge turn on.
You could feel Chan's hands slide up your back, his fingers brushing against your spine.
"Keep going." He whispered, and you moaned, closing your eyes and sucking Seungmin's cock.
The taller let out a loud moan, his hand grabbing your head. His hips began bucking forward, and his cock slid deeper down your throat.
"F-fuck, you feel so good."
Chan's hands squeezed your hips, pulling you back a bit. "Slow down."
"But she feels so good."
Chan hummed, leaning forward and kissing your neck. His hands moved up and cupped your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.
You moaned, and Seungmin let out a loud groan.
"I-I'm close."
"Good." Chan purred, his hands sliding back down to your hips. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against your back, his cock rubbing against you.
You whimpered, rolling your hips. You could feel his cock slipping between your legs, his shaft rubbing against your pussy.
Seungmin's grip on your hair tightened, his cock pulsing in your mouth. You sucked hard, swirling your tongue around the tip.
"Gonna cum."
"Do it, baby." You purred, looking up at him through your lashes.
Seungmin's cock twitched and he let out a loud moan. His hot cum spilled into your mouth and you swallowed, moaning at the taste. "Fuck, that's so hot,” he mumbled.
You pulled back, wiping the back of your mouth with the back of your hand. "How was that?"
"That was amazing."
You smiled, sitting up and kissing his cheek.
"You guys wanna get back to it?"
They nodded eagerly, and you giggled, leaning forward and kissing Chan deeply. He hummed, his hand reaching up and cupping your cheek.
"I love you." You said against his lips.
"I love you, too." He smiled back.
You were the first to get into position, laying down on the bed and spreading your legs. Chan spoke up, “The next thing I’m gonna show you is how to fuck her with your fingers. You gotta be careful, you do it wrong and she gets hurt.”
Seungmin was the first to step forward, his face flushed as he got between your legs.
He was shaking slightly, his fingers twitching as he brought them closer to you.
Chan moved behind him, placing his hands on top of Seungmin's.
"Start with one finger. If she says it's too much, add a little bit of spit and try again. You're gonna wanna curve them upwards, and move them in and out."
Seungmin nodded, his finger pressing against your entrance. You let out a soft whine, biting your lip as his finger pushed inside.
"Now move it in and out, slowly. Like I said, if she says stop, stop."
"O-okay."
Seungmin moved his finger in and out slowly, his gaze focused on your pussy.
You whimpered, rocking your hips.
"Seungmin, that feels really good."
"Does it?"
"Yes, baby."
"That's good. You're doing a good job, Minnie." Chan hummed, moving his hand to his shoulder. "Now add another finger."
Seungmin nodded, pulling his finger out and adding another. He pushed them both inside slowly, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.
"Good. Now move them."
Seungmin's fingers began moving, the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers was making you dizzy.
"She likes it when you curl your fingers a bit. That spot is a girl's best friend."
"Curl?"
"Yeah, like this."
Chan's fingers curled up , demonstrating the motion and the younger's eyes went wide. He mimicked the motion, curling his fingers and brushing against your g-spot.
"F-Fuck! There!"
"There?"
"Yes, fuck, keep doing that."
You reached down and began rubbing your clit, moaning loudly as the pleasure was starting to overwhelm you.
Seungmin continued fucking you with his fingers, his pace speeding up. Your moans were getting louder, and your grip on the sheets was tight. You could sense the more Seungmin got comfortable, the more he got into it.
"Minnie, I'm gonna cum!"
"Go ahead. Cum."
Your orgasm hit hard, and you cried out. Your entire body was shaking, and you were gripping the sheets tightly.
"That was so good." You breathed, looking up at him.
Seungmin beamed, pulling his fingers out and then tapped your chin with his other hand. “Open up.” You obeyed and he shoved his fingers in your mouth as you sucked them clean of any trace of you.
"Fuck." Jeongin mumbled, his cock twitching.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” Han asked as Seungmin began to go back to sitting down.
“I saw it in a porno once.” He shrugged.
"Don't worry, Innie. You're next."
"Wait." Jeongin spoke up, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting away from the scene before him. "I don't know if I can do this."
Chan and you shared a look, before Chan responded.
"Why not? Do you not want to?"
"I just, I'm scared. What if I hurt her?"
"Then she'll tell you. If she doesn't feel good, she won't be shy about letting you know."
"But what if I do something wrong?"
"I'll guide you. Come here."
Jeongin hesitated for a moment before walking towards the two of you. Chan guided him, pulling him closer and placing his hand between your legs.
"She's still a bit wet. That's a good thing."
"Really?"
"Yes. It means she's turned on. It's a good thing." Chan gently pushed two of Jeongin's fingers inside, and the younger let out a soft gasp.
"She's warm."
"It feels really good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah."
Chan began guiding his fingers, pushing them in and out slowly.
"This is how you fuck a girl. Slow, deep thrusts."
"Okay."
"And don't forget, make sure to hit her g-spot."
"G-spot?"
"Yeah. It's a super sensitive area. Curve your fingers, like this."
Chan guided his fingers, showing the youngest how to curl them. He brushed against your g-spot, and you let out a loud moan.
"Found it!” He looked to Chan, shocked and semi-proud of himself. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.
Jeongin's pace picked up, his thrusts becoming faster.
"She likes it when you're rough. She's not made of glass, Innie. Go as hard as you want, but make sure to give her a second to breathe."
"Yes, hyung."
His pace sped up, his thrusts getting rougher.
"I'm close, Innie." You gasped, grinding your hips against his fingers.
"Come for me." He said in a breath, his thrusts becoming harder.
Your orgasm hit you hard, and you threw your head back. Jeongin's pace didn't slow, his thrusts growing more aggressive.
"Innie, fuck." He pulled his fingers out and moaned as he licked them clean.
"You're doing so well, baby." Chan hummed, kissing the your cheek.
"Now, I wanna watch you finger her." Jeongin spoke up, shy despite what he just did.
Chan and Jeongin switched places, Chan’s fingers pressed against your entrance, pushing inside and curling immediately.
You whimpered, grinding against his fingers. Chan’s pace was fast and rough, and it was making your head spin.
"She likes it rough. She loves it when you fuck her hard."
Jeongin nodded, his hand wrapped around his cock. His hand moved up and down his length, and his breathing was ragged.
"Channie." You whined, rolling your hips against his fingers.
"Come on, baby. Come for me."
You let out a loud moan, grinding your hips against his hand as you came.
"Fuck." Chan purred, pulling his fingers out.
"You wanna taste her?" He signaled to Felix.
"Y-Yeah."
Chan brought his fingers to the younger's lips, and Felix eagerly licked them clean.
"God, she tastes so good."
"You can have more later.” Chan hummed, standing up and moving over to the youngest.
“What’s next?” Han said, his hand lazily stroking his cock, the head red and angry.
“You’re gonna fuck her.”
The two of you shared a look and you smirked, laying back down and spreading your legs.
Chan helped the boy line himself up, the head pressing against your entrance.
"Take it slow, okay?"
Han nodded, pushing his cock inside slowly. You moaned, throwing your head back as he slid inside.
"F-Fuck." He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
"Good?"
"So good."
"Don't be afraid to fuck her. She can take it."
Han didn't hesitate. His pace was quick, and he was hitting all the right spots.
"God, you're so fucking tight."
"Han...you're doing such a good job."
Chan was still beside the two of you, his eyes dark and his expression hungry. “Baby-“ You reached your hand out to him and grabbed ahold of his cock. Your hand made work of your boyfriend while Han fucked into you at a delicious pace.
"She feels so good."
Chan chuckled, his cock throbbing in your hand. "I know she does."
"Fuck, I'm close."
"Come on, baby. Cum for me."
Han's thrusts became harder, his nails digging into your hips. His cock pulsed and twitched, and his breathing was erratic.
"C-Can I come inside?"
"Yeah, baby. Come for me."
Han's cock pulsed, his hot seed shooting deep inside you.
"God, that was good." He panted, pulling his cock out.
"You think?"
"Yeah." He laughed, ”I really wanna eat her out again.”
Chan's gaze darkened and he growled, "It’s my turn to show you how it’s done first.”
Chan's hands grabbed your hips and pulled you down the bed. He stood between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance.
"You ready for me, baby?"
"Always, Channie."
Chan hummed, and pushed himself inside. You gasped, your hands flying to his arms.
"Fuck, Channie."
Chan began pounding into you, his pace rough and brutal.
"Look at you. Taking me so well. You're such a good girl." His chest was pressed against yours, his words of praise tickling your ear.
His hand reached up and wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently.
"You're mine."
"All yours."
"That's right. Mine."
Chan's hand squeezed tighter and his thrusts got harder. You were quickly becoming a whining mess.
"You're not gonna last long, are you?"
"N-no."
"That's okay. You can come whenever you want."
"W-What about you?"
"Don't worry about me. Just come."
You let out a loud cry, your orgasm hitting you hard. You clenched hard around his dick, and he visibly jolted at the feeling of you gripping him.
"Such a good girl. I'm almost there."
"Come for me, Channie."
"I'm so close."
"Please, baby."
Chan's cock pulsed and he let out a low groan, his hips stuttering as he came.
He stayed inside you for a few moments, his forehead resting against yours.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm great. Are you?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
You hummed, turning your head to look at the boys. They were all staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.
"Did you guys enjoy that?"
"It was awesome." Felix looked like he was about to combust.
"You looked amazing." Seungmin cooed as he began approaching the bed.
"I didn't know you could be so dirty, hyung." Jeongin ran a hand through his hair as he ran his eyes over your body.
You chuckled, turning back to face your boyfriend. He kissed your cheek and pulled out, laying beside you.
"I'm not sure I could get hard again for a while, baby. Give the boys some attention.”
"Okay." You sat up and grabbed Jeongin's wrist. "I want you."
Jeongin didn't hesitate, climbing onto the bed and pushing himself inside.
"Oh, fuck. You feel so good, baby."
"So do you."
Jeongin's hips were sharp and quick, his pace fast.
"I'm not gonna last long."
"It's okay sweetheart, just keep going-Fuck!”
Chan's voice filled the room.
"Wait a second." Jeongin slowed his motions as Chan grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your clit. “If you know you aren’t gonna last long enough for her to finish, help her get there faster. Play with her clit.”
Jeongin nodded and his thumb started rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves. Your eyes fluttered shut and your back arched off the bed, the feeling of both sensations beautifully overwhelming.
"I'm close. So close."
"Me too."
You felt another hand join the one between your legs. You opened your eyes and looked up, seeing Seungmin kneeling beside you. His cock was in his hand, his strokes quick and erratic.
"C-cum with me, sweetheart." You placed your hand on Jeongin’s arm. "I'm close, just keep going."
"Fuck, me too." You could feel his thrusts becoming harder, his breathing ragged. His pace was brutal, and his grip on your thigh was painful.
"Seungmin."
"Yeah, baby."
"Kiss me."
"As you wish."
Seungmin leaned forward and his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and messy, and his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, your orgasm quickly getting ready to snap.
"Gonna cum." Your orgasm hit hard, and your whole body shook. Jeongin's cock pulsed, and his hot seed spilled inside you.
"Shit." He pulled out, and collapsed beside you.
Seungmin didn't stop kissing you, his grip tightening on your waist as you sat up. “I wanna ride you. Sit against the headboard.”
Seungmin nodded, sitting up and positioning himself. He gripped his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and you both groaned.
"She feels so good hyung." Seungmin looked to Chan.
"Fuck me, Seungmin." Seungmin's hands rested on your hips and he slowly pushed himself inside. Seungmin began rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out.
"God, I've wanted to do this for so long."
"What?”
"You were with him." He gestured towards Chan.
“You were having fantasies about my girlfriend?”
Seungmin nodded, biting his lip.
"I was jealous. I wanted you."
"And now you have her, but one night only. She’s mine, don’t forget that.”
"Yes, yes I do."
His pace picked up, his hips slapping against yours. You could feel his cock hitting deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix.
"You're so tight. Fuck."
"You're so big."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"I'm gonna come."
"Do it."
"Fuck." Seungmin's thrusts got faster, and his grip tightened. His cock pulsed and twitched, and his eyes fluttered shut. He cried out, his orgasm hitting hard.
"Oh my god." You cried out, collapsing against Seungmin as he rode out his own orgasm.
“Okay, she needs a break.” Chan helped you off Seungmin’s lap, but you interrupted him.
“Han, come here, please. Want you- to eat me out again.” Your words came out in pants, but Han looked more than eager to oblige.
You laid back on the bed, and Han crawled between your legs, his tongue running over your sensitive flesh.
You whimpered, the sensation bordering on overstimulation. Chan noticed your discomfort and he reached his hand down to rub slow circles on your hip, the feeling helping ground you. “Are you sure baby? You can stop at any time.”
“I’m fine, I promise.” You let out a moan and then signaled to Felix. As he came over, you turned your head to take him into your mouth.
While you were focused on Felix, Chan spoke up.
"Han, you gotta be gentle. If she says stop, you need to listen. Do not push her."
Han nodded, his tongue continuing to explore your pussy. He was gentle, his tongue gliding over your clit.
"Oh, fuck." You moaned around Felix's cock, your hand wrapping around the base. You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard.
"She's amazing." Felix groaned.
"I know. And she's all mine."
You whimpered, feeling another orgasm building up. Your hips rocked against Han's mouth, and he seemed to notice, his movements speeding up. "Gonna cum." You moaned, grinding against his mouth.
"Come for me."
"Yes!" You cried out, your orgasm hitting hard. Your hips bucked wildly, and your back arched. Han lapped at your cunt, cleaning you up before pulling away and licking his lips.
"That was the best meal I've ever had. I could do that all day.” Han stepped away as you continued to suck Felix’s cock.
“Stop- wanna fuck you.” He groaned.
Felix pulled out and then quickly lined his cock up with your entrance, slamming into you.
"Fuck." You gasped, your hands gripping the sheets.
"Fuck, you feel so good."
Felix's thrusts were hard and fast, and his grip on your thighs was almost painful.
"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." His hand shot down to your clit to help you along as Chan said earlier. Always following instructions.
"Come for me, Felix."
Felix's cock twitched, and he cried out, his cock pulsing and his hot seed spilling inside.
You let out a soft groan, and he pulled out, falling to the side and catching his breath. Each of the Maknae looked entirely spent, dicks limp and eyes closed.
"I wanna see her get fucked by Changbin." Felix looked at Chan, and the eldest nodded.
"Changbin? Why?” Chan questioned as he moved towards you.
"He's the biggest. I wanna see her stretched around his cock." Felix was dazed on the bed next to you.
Chan's gaze shifted to you, a wicked grin forming on his face. "Oh? Is he now?”
"Mhm." Felix nodded, biting his lip.
"Is that what you want, baby? You wanna be stretched around his cock?"
"I wanna be stretched around yours baby.” You could tell Chan’s possessive side was coming out.
"Good answer.”
Chan made his way over and settled between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance.
Chan slowly slid inside, and you moaned, your back arching off the bed.
"You feel so fucking good, baby. I love you.” Chan’s thumbs were rubbing circles against your hips.
“You fit so good, I love you too. Fuck!”
His pace was quick and rough, his cock hitting deep.
"I love you so much." Chan leaned down and looped his arms under your back, holding you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck.
"I love you, too." Tears were lining your eyes as sheer pleasure flooded your system, the overstimulation starting to hit you.
You moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck." He growled, his cock throbbing.
"Fuck, I'm close."
"Come for me, baby."
"Chan..." Your eyes were squeezed shut, and you were barely able to breathe.
"That's it. Come for me."
You let out a strangled moan, and you came, your walls clenching tightly around his cock.
"Good girl. Such a good girl."
"Come for me, Chan. Come inside, please." Chan's grip tightened, and he groaned, his hips stuttering.
"Fuck." You both stilled, your breathing ragged.
Chan slowly pulled out, his forehead resting against yours.
"How do you feel, baby?"
"Sore, but I'm good. I'm happy."
"Me too. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Chan helped you stand, and he held you tightly.
"Alright boys, we need to get cleaned up. We have practice tomorrow and a few of you have vocal lessons and a photoshoot."
You chuckled and kissed his cheek.
"Alright. Go shower, we'll clean up the room." Han offered with a lazy smile.
"We?" Felix whined, sitting up.
"Yes, we. Come on." Seungmin said, slapping Felix on the shoulder.
"Thanks, guys." Chan grabbed your clothes and carried them into the bathroom, turning on the shower.
You smiled and joined him, letting the hot water wash away the sticky evidence of your activities.
The boys did an excellent job at cleaning the bedroom. It was spotless, and it smelled clean.
You and Chan were in his room, him snuggled against you as you ran your fingers through his hair.
"I think we need to have them all over for dinner. Or a movie. Something." You said softly.
"I'll ask if they want to. Why?" Chan was running his hands through your hair gently.
“I feel like I owe them a thank you." You couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Yeah, they would probably like that. I'll talk to the manager tomorrow and see when they have open schedules."
"Thank you, baby."
"No problem, love." Chan kissed your cheek and snuggled closer.
"Hey, Chan."
"Yeah?"
"What was all that about earlier? About not touching me because I'm yours?"
"I was just playing, baby. You know I'm not really like that, right?"
"Of course. It was really hot, though."
221 notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 5 months ago
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Sleep Is For The Weak
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Pairing: idiol!bang chan x reader
Tags: smau, strangers to lovers, fluff, suggestive
Summary: you and chan get matched up on a forum for people who suffer with insomnia and spent most of your sleepless nights texting each other. neither of you expected to fall in love..
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Part 1 -> out now!
Part 2 -> out now!
Part 3 -> out now!
Part 4 -> out now!
Part 5 -> out now!
Part 6 -> out now!
Part 7 -> out now!
Part 8 -> out now!
Part 9 -> out now!
Part 10 -> out now!
Part 11 -> out now!
Part 12 -> out now!
Part 13 -> out now!
Part 14 -> out now!
Part 15 -> out now!
Part 16 -> out now!
Part 17 -> out now!
Part 18 -> out now!
Part 19 -> out now!
Part 20 -> coming soon
More to follow ;)
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a/n: welcome to my new smau series! This time it's Chan's turn to find love in an unexpected place <3
Taglist : @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz
2K notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 5 months ago
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james: i'm too good for revenge...
sirius: well, i'm not. give me the bomb.
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melstinybrain · 5 months ago
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sirius: do you ever get water hungry?
peter: water hungry?
remus: do you mean thirsty?
sirius: oh... yeah.
192 notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 5 months ago
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james denying any feelings for reg: i feel nothing for you. nothing!
reg, very amused: is that so?
james, more irritated: yep. nothing.
regulus: *steps forward*
james: *swallows but stays put*
regulus: relax potter, i won't jump you.
james: *shoulders slump*
regulus: not until you ask me to anyway.
525 notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 5 months ago
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MDNI
remus to a begging sirius: ah, ah, ah; beg properly. do you think you're gonna get what you want from me just because you started whining and pleading? poor darling, that's not how it works. not at all, angel. if you want me to give you what you want, use that mouth.
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melstinybrain · 9 months ago
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evan: i wanna do bad things to you.
barty, smirking: like what?
evan: break your legs.
evan: choke you to death.
evan: push you off the astronomy tower.
barty: kinky.
evan:...
evan: i'm planning to kill you, you little shi-
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melstinybrain · 9 months ago
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regulus: *staring intensely at james' chest*
james: what is it?
regulus: your shirt.
james, looking down at his shirt: what's wrong with it?
regulus: it's still on you.
186 notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 9 months ago
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sirius: you know, I'm jealous of you.
remus: huh? why?
sirius: your partner is hotter than mine.
sirius: *walks away*
remus: wait, but-
remus: but wE ARE DATING-
remus: COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!
126 notes · View notes
melstinybrain · 9 months ago
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james: if remus jumped off a cliff, would you?
sirius: *stares into the distance with a blank expression*
james: sirius!
sirius: well- er- I mean, it depends.
james: DON'T JUMP OFF A CLIFF!
sirius: well, I wasn't planning on it.
james: but if remus did, would you?
sirius: *stares into the distance yet again*
james: SIRIUS!
560 notes · View notes