#I’m not taking criticisms or notes
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Oasis can actually go fuck itself- not for the sake of a hurt child, not for the sake of the abuse winning, not for the grooming to work in the long run
#I’m not taking criticisms or notes#I’m just feeling feelings out loud#cause it’s been a long second#like there is narratively and thematically zero reasons oasis should even stil be alive#and there’s many more why it should be dead and gone#like- imagine if they’d made Alex or Kyle follow their legacy- the oath chosen for them??? it’d be horrible and outrageous and horrific even#like just for a second- if any of the mc had been involved in Caulfield or picked that#if Alex had buckled under his fathers abuse and become the soldier he wanted him ti be#if he lost his own identity and will to live for a crusade taht was never his#I want to rip s4 apart with my bare hands#sorry not sorry
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I fucking hate being employed this shit fucking sucks I wanna go home
#just had a meeting with my boss#I thought I was doing pretty good because I’m trying my best but she laid out my sins in front of me and told me to lock the fuck in#girl I AM locked in what do you want from me#I work two days a week sorry I’m not a fucking master at this#pretty much all I’ve learned is that I’m far too anxious for this job#the incident she laid out were either human error (which is fair) something due to my anxiety or something straight up did not happen?#like I had no recollection of some of the things she noted I swear to god I am being honest#and I can’t take even the lightest criticism so this was a nightmare for me#she said ‘I’m not in trouble’ but fuck it sure feels like it!#she made me feel like a burden and a failure which y’know… isn’t ideal#honestly all I can say is that I’m trying my best#I don’t love this job but I like the people here and also the job market is in shambles so it’s this or nothing#anyways I was holding back tears but I’m fine now#we are in hell
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I don’t usually make posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of anti-intellectual junk lately, and I really think we need to put the word “pretentious” up on a shelf until people learn what it actually means.
It doesn’t describe someone who likes artsy-fartsy deep meaning media. People who are pretentious are fake. They’re posers trying to be sophisticated and unique, not like other girls. They pretend to only like stuff they think will make them sound cool when they talk about it. They want to act like they know something you don’t, and they want attention for it.
By definition, if you genuinely enjoy something, you can’t be pretentious. If it resonates with you, and you analyze it, and you don’t care what people think, that’s the polar opposite, actually. If you love obscure experimental prog music, if you watch underground high concept indie films through English teacher eyes, if you spend hours in a modern art museum reading each piece as a vessel for storytelling, if your backpack’s full of poetry books that inspire you, if you play underrated games that were someone’s passion project, if you have an interest in studying the classics or the masters, you are not pretentious.
Of course, some people just don’t like some stuff, and that’s fine, but that’s not what this is about. Don’t let anti-intellectuals shame you for enjoying things just because your interests are inaccessible to them, because they refuse to be brave and put effort into critical thinking. You’re not stuck up for refusing to overlook the craft of artists.
#anti intellectualism#media#movies#books#music#critical thinking#my friend who primarily listens to one very popular band once said that people who listen to obscure music are annoying and pretentious#which rubbed me the wrong way because 1 she knows that I listen to obscure music and 2 it’s such a cowardly consumerist take. anyone can#make music and hey a lot of the people who do make GOOD music. and this goes for all *obscure* media#this post was mostly inspired by people talking about Barbie and those anti pick me girls like the pick nobody girls who insist thinking is#for boys and having fun with an empty brain is for girls. Greta gerwig is an artist. I haven’t seen the movie yet but I know it has a deeper#message than haha cute pink! I’ve seen the summaries about the true meaning. the pinkness and popularity doesn’t negate the narritive.#though in the notes I saw a lot of tumblristas comunistas shitting on the film for being one big ad that people *fell for* which tbh is#tbh almost as anti-intellectual. don’t get me wrong they milked this film to sell hella shit but I don’t believe kids who play with dolls#are the target audience as these people claim. Barbie is a culturally iconic symbol almost archetypical of societal expectations for women#you say barbie people think unblinking perfect plastic pink girly. reminds me of the poem The Last Mojave Indian Barbie. yeah yeah you all#hate brands but this one carries undeniable significance and makes for a powerful literary device. it’s been used many times before#sorry for writing a tag essay about a film I haven’t even seen but I’m tired of internet people focusing so much on proving others wrong#that they end up oversimplifying everything just as much as the other person. god I saw people doing this to Nimona saying transphobes were#looking too deep into her character and they’re reactionary clowns for making that jump. like for once the transphobes are right. she is#trans. it’s a queer story. and irl the first people who notice queerness are the bigots who can tell you’re different. sick owns telling#them the story’s not that deep is harmful and it’s like they’re ignoring the real message on purpose. okay enough rambling hehe! thanks#barbie#nimona
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i feel like people think of me as a dean disliker but like. its dean who got me so into supernatural initially. (well and sam & azazel stuff but we won’t go there rn). *old grandpa who needs to go to bed voice* i was a deangirl (reclaimed meaning of the term.. to an extent) for seasons 2 and 3. i write most of my fic from his pov. it’s just that the drive for a deangirl renaissance within me wars with my equally passionate impulse to make everyone shut up about dean forever
#the lack of talking i do abt dean on here is due to a combination of things#1 lack of confidence in my deanunderstanding as much as i have in my samunderstanding…. despite the fact i think i am. actually.#embarrassingly. a LOT like dean. like i do think i understand him critically and vividly and deeply i just don’t know how to word that#properly into meta posts 💗 i just know what’s wrong.. which is 80% of fandom dean takes#2 the fact that deanposts have a tendency of attracting the most irritating of the deangirls (sorry) into my notes#and then i get influx of followers who undoubtedly will end up blocking me when i say dean and sams relationship is unbalanced and abusive#sometimes/often especially as the show goes on…. which it is. 💖.#3 everyone talks about him anyway always all of the time#4 i’m just currently much more hyperfixated on sam#spn#oliver talks#deangirlisms#supernatural#dean winchester
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Girl help people who’ve never written anything are saying it’s bigoted to give queer, disabled, or poc characters flaws and depth and that its just a watsonian excuse for the writer to be bigoted. Yes that CAN exist (like the “she looks 12 but is actually 1000 years old! Bullshit) but to say it’s bigoted for a character to make stupid decisions or be mean with in-universe explanations (not justifications, explanations) in the writing, then you’re just trying to enforce the Hays Code Tumblr 2012 edition.
#starting to realize so many people would haaaaaaaate astra#or most of my characters tbh#Bc how dare poc or disabled characters be *check notes* flawed and make stupid decisions and be mean sometimes. Like people usually are.#ppl entirely missing the point of the post I’m talking about#SOME people on this hellsite had to go “you’re right! A character being mean or flawed is just a sign of the author’s bigotry!”#sry for the rant a mutual reblogged some absolutely rancid writing takes and I blocked them#Is it actually bigoted writing or do you just not when queer people act like people and not like moral paragons#which is not me condemning fluffy queer media btw I eat that shit up as much as I do darker stories#people just need to realize when something is a preference and not a criticism
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Since you like to say you’re always right, tell us what is next. You say you don’t make predictions, but you actually do, even if you don’t call them that.
Ok so I’m absolutely not always right. There have been some really big things I’ve been wrong about and a lot of small things too. And what I learned from that is to keep an open mind, and when I’m wrong about something, to figure out why I got it wrong and shift my world view in some ways to try to understand and guess better the next time. But it’s not even really about being able to guess. It’s about understanding when things happen. It is fun to be right on a guess though, when that happens.
The biggest thing I’ve learned, and luckily I learned it pretty early on in my time in this space, is that trying to figure out the timing something big will happen is absolutely a fools errand. And another thing to avoid is trying to come up with the exact, specific way Taylor (or others in her cinematic universe) will do something to get a point across. Like I can predict she will try to get a point across (set up a timeline, create a narrative, shore up a brand point) but I cannot predict exactly how or when she’ll do it. I also can predict she’ll set something up but then she never does. That’s because I think of lots of options. Some happen, some don’t. So this is the kind of thing I’m often wrong about. But I see them and always try to present them as options, not predictions. And if one of the options I think of happens, I have already spent time thinking about it, so it already makes sense to me.
I don’t know what’s next. She could drop TS11 at midnight. She could break up with Travis tomorrow, or announce her engagement next week. But I do not think any of those things is likely.
So here’s the closest thing you’ll ever get to me making a specific, timed prediction, because to me it seems quite clear:
What I do think is likely is that her jet will go to KC, ���she’ll go to the game on Sunday✅, and her jet will then leave KC sometime between next Tuesday✅ and next Thursday. Why? Because it’s a home game, and she likes to go to home games and get the exposure and publicity that comes with that. She is working really hard at becoming an icon in KC, seem like her relationship is very serious for those who want to believe it’s serious, and she wants to shore up that relationship by spending time with him, his family, and his friends (also KC icons - the Mahomes mostly.)✅ All of this is so important to the story she’s creating. However, she won’t stay long ✅because that’s been her pattern. She also seems to be establishing that she also has her own busy, fabulous life✅ (she’s bejeweled and he lets her be✅) and when he’s busy with his football week (generally Tuesday-Sunday) he doesn’t have much time for her and she has her own life.✅This gives her the opposite option of the relationship being very serious. In other words it gives her an easy out for it to end. And Wednesday is her birthday. So she’ll either stay till Tuesday ✅and we’ll see or hear about birthday celebrations Sunday night/Monday, ✅then she’ll head out for further birthday celebrations with her other friends and family✅, or her jet will stay through her birthday, solidifying the seriousness of the relationship. But she will leave KC.✅ And then she’ll probably go to the game on Dec 17 in Boston✅. Why? Because it is a short hop from NYC, she has a huge fanbase there✅ and can expand it and shore it up, the patriots are bad so a win is likely✅, but they are a very popular team, so viewership (publicity) will be high✅. After that? Well she’s likely to spend more time in NYC✅/Nashville. Then she will probably go to the Christmas Day game in KC✅. This is a huge opportunity to “take the relationship to the next level” by spending the holidays together ✅, something the public absolutely loves to see and will further fuel the “engaged by the end of the year, after the Super Bowl at the latest” fire. Hopefully we’ll get something reputation-related for new years❌, so the extra publicity will help with that. Additionally all of this corresponds with the Eras film being released to streaming, another huge money making opportunity for her, and her attendance is an ad for the film.
After the new year, there will be some huge games with high viewership. They will be playing for playoff seeding. Then they almost assuredly will be in the playoffs✅. She will go to those games✅, which have even higher viewership, and will give her more free marketing for reputation and eras movie and anything else we don’t know about. After that, it will depend on how deep they go into the playoffs. They are no longer favored to be in the Super Bowl, but it is still a strong possibility✅. We all now know she can fly across the world after a concert to attend an event (she flew to the US during her time in SA, planned to a second time but couldn’t because of the events in Rio, and flew to London for 24 hrs for bey). The precedent has been set for her to fly from Tokyo to Las Vegas for the Super Bowl. ✅There is no bigger stage than the Super Bowl (outside of the World Cup final, if you’re thinking internationally.) The free marketing potential there is something that would be very hard for her to pass up. And if Travis isn’t playing, Jason’s team might be, and they can go together to support him. Imagine the potential of travlor in a suite together with mama and papa kelce cheering on a retiring Jason❌✅ . And even if neither of them are in the game, they could still all go together and stand in a suite as a big happy family in front of an audience of 115 million Americans. Why wouldn’t she do this?✅
Will all that happen for sure? Of course not. But you can see the logic, right? Will there be other things that happen that I haven’t thought of? Most likely.✅ I don’t actually have a crystal ball. What kinds of things could derail this? Well there’s always the possibility of the black swan, but a more likely scenario is they lose again against a team they should beat✅ and/or Travis has another bad game✅. There is a real danger of people turning on her as a distraction ✅and I think they have their fingers on the pulse of this very closely. As long as KC keeps winning, and there’s a good chance they will win the rest of their games, all will be smooth❌✅.
Also I am not even thinking beyond February. I have one interesting thought about it, but it’s just too speculative to even mention here. But as we move through the next two months, I’ll get clues to be able to guess at what will happen after she goes back on tour after the Super Bowl✅. And if I’m wrong about all of this, which I may very well be because she is notoriously unpredictable sometimes, I will simply take it as a learning opportunity to understand her better.✅
#I’m editing the tags as time goes on to note what I got right and how and adding checks and can writhing the post#People mag confirmed they celebrated her bday Monday in KC and he’s busy and she’s busy and she will have a party w/o him in nyc#and were sure to mentioned he is focused on football#and he’s gotten some criticism for dropping passes and that flop#he had a bad game vs patriots and hasn’t had a good game in weeks#she’s still doing fine other than the Mahomes continuing ick#Travis essentially confirmed she went to Gillette. decide of her strong fanbase. bad team means cheap tix for swifties to take over#don’t know for sure but looks like she wants everyone to think she’s in KC for the week#a big football analyst tweeted she’s a distraction after the Christmas loss#they didn’t win the rest of their games and they struggled at the end of the season there and Travis struggled but#he miraculously hit his act together in time to help lead his team to the Super Bowl cementing his place as the elite TE and saved the day#and happiness is everywhere because the goal (SB and adorable power couple of the year) was met#next Grammys and Super Bowl for her and him going to shows in Australia I’m guessing#got the kelce family plus Taylor importance right but didn’t mention the possibility of Jason not in SB but in suite with tay.#obvious but sonce I didn mt mention it I gave myself a partial green check#one thing I didn’t know was about TTPD instead of a new re-recording#we already got our People article that he is looking forward to joining her on tour in Europe
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made a mistake at work today and i just want to kms tbh </3
#i know making mistakes is only human but not if it’s me you know??? 😭😭😭#had to try soooooo hard to hold back my tears at work but as soon as i was in my dad’s car on the way home i started crying 😔#i wish i wasn’t so hard on myself but i feel so embarrassed humiliated and stupid#and now i feel like my colleagues hate me which probably isn’t true i’m just an emotional cry baby 😭#but i seriously feel horrible and i would love to hide from the world for at least a week 🙈#i told my team leader about my mistake and even though she was nice and understanding i was so hurt and embarrassed it was awful#and of course she noticed the tears in my eyes and i think my crush did too bc he didn’t talk to me at all after that happened#they probably think i’m so childish 😭😭😭 i’m sorry i’m such an emotional bitch with no self esteem that takes everything too personal#it’s the capricorn in me… i’m too much of a perfectionist like everyone can make mistakes EXCEPT ME#that’s what happens when you measure your self worth based on your achievements everything comes crashing down after just one mistake#i feel so foolish 😔#on a good note my crush actually remembered my birthday and congratulated me belatedly bc he was sick for a week#he actually initiated some conversations today but after that situation happened he didn’t talk to me at all anymore 💔#he probably really thinks i’m a childish baby now 🥲#i don’t take criticism well bc my mom used to (and still does tbh) berate for every single little thing#so now i think that even constructive criticism (which is obviously good and needed!!!) is aimed at me as a person & always cry 🙃#god i wish i was normal#☁️
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If I made a video essay covering every episode arc and the overall storyline and themes of Darker than Black would that be too self indulgent?
#ra speaks#personal#darker than black#dtb#tag rambling#yes I’m making it for me ™ but it’s also an absolutely massive project like#the video introduction I’ve drafted is 2.5 pages font size 11 1.5 spaced. it’s a lot of text.#and reading it out loud definitely takes longer than 20 minutes#and that’s without getting into the actual arcs and episodes of the show that’s just me rambling abt my personal discovery and interest init#but my real reason is that the wikia has some glaring inconsistencies/shortcomings in terms of its summaries and descriptions plus a lot of#subjective interpretations posited as canonical fact#which y’know I could remake the wikia piece by piece in a doc.wiki format#but to do that I’ll need a thorough rewatch with notes on all canonical events and circumstances as portrayed through the media itself#instead of through a personal lense#sorry I looked up video essays for dtb on YouTube and one of the first literally criticizes the show for something that’s#explicitly addressed in episode 9 like sir did you even fucking WATCH the show how is this the most popular video on the show
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me when i rant to my corporate journal (I can’t post it because im afraid the wording will stir up problems centered around misinterpretation of what im trying to say)
#I’m terrible at wording things so it’s literally just a bunch of paragraphs that basically read#“I’m fine with you doing this thing under this specific context and even then it’s such a complex concept/issue it’s more case by case”#S.K’s confession booth drafts#Yeah felt like posting this one#My corporate journal is the stupid journaling app that iPhones have now btw#It’s easier for me to write rants in there than the notes app for whatever reason#Later revision to my tags on this post: this may or may not be about a thing that comes up a lot in the Jash community#Bold revisions and statements from a man who’s too scared to take criticism/sar#Not saying I condone shit. I’m just saying I’ve got a weird mixed view on it that I feel some ppl aren’t ready for
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SO MUCH LORE!!!!
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we decided to watch profit (1996) bc we are nothing if not morbidly curious and I don’t know how to process what I’ve just seen
#but profit IS now my poor little meow meow and I won’t be taking criticism at this time thanks#that aside they were really like how do we make character the weirdest little freak known to man#and also give him a traumatic backstory that would be too over the top in a whump fic#while also making him gaslight gatekeep girlboss yas slay#…. I won’t say no notes but I have no idea what my notes would be because my brain just short circuited#they weren’t wrong that man can sure be curled up naked in a box because he can’t sleep any other way#I’m aware I sound insane but what I just witnessed was BEYOND. lmao#to be clear we only watched the first episode lol so I’m sure we’re in for a Ride#anni rambles
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never making a joke about bo-katan again until the star wars fandom develops a sense of humor
#why do SO many people think i was seriously criticizing her when i made a joke about her being a part of the infighting#like apparently that means i’m incapable of critical thinking and understanding character growth#like im sorry my sense of humor is better than yalls and i thought that bo-katan ‘ex terrorist that helped maul take over’ kryze#saying no fighting was funny as fuck#i am aware of following a narrative i can see she grew up#leave me ALONE#i dont need anymore professors in my notes going well ACTUALLY 🤓
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Kamala is Brat!!!! Stay mad!!! But your music exists in the context!!!!!
💀 this is the only ask i have like ever received on this blog y’all are so weird
maybe re-examine your life and what brought you to sending asks to random nobodies to defend a politician’s bratness. thoughts and prayers
#ask#i’m literally going to vote for her if she’s the nominee go bother someone else lmfao#this is such a strange thing to fight for i kind of don’t even know what to say 😭#how did this person even find my nothing post#i just imagine them seething and going through the kamala harris / brat tag responding to every remotely critical post#weirdo behavior maybe take that energy and do something useful with it !#also can i just point out truly wtf does this even mean#kamala is brat. i don’t think kamala is partying with the girls and falling in love again and again and doing coke or whatever like what#nonsense statements#i’m just baffled LMFAO very embarrassing#did my zero note post strike something within you
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So I haven’t talked about this on main before, but the situation in South Gaza has gotten so horrifying that I’m p much throwing caution to the wind to desperately plead for eyes on this. I’m raising awareness about stories from activists in Gaza right now, including one of our own.
My lovely, wonderful friend Swin (aka tumblr user @combaticon) was deployed as a volunteer medic to a Gaza hospital on the 9th.
When the bloodshed started, she heard they needed extra hands in Gaza, she spoke Arabic and had the training, and she went.
I’ve been in contact with her throughout. She’s so incredibly brave it takes my breath away. My heart bleeds for these children she’s taking care of and how resilient they are is… astonishing.
Swin and these poor people have been under siege for so long, and they’re in desperate need of critical supplies. They have to filter water through their clothes, and it’s getting dangerously cold. Foods finally been getting through, but there’s not enough blankets and jackets to go around and there’s no fuel for the generators.
Their comrades in the West Bank have been completely pushed out by settler thugs. It’s incredibly unsafe to even be doing humanitarian work for Palestinians. Remember this the next time a Zionist tells you they’re doing this to ‘feel safe’. The IOF is arming lynch mobs.
On a personal note, this has been the most gut-wrenching week of my life. Every day when I wake up without a text from her I feel so much fear. I fight back the grief but I don’t know how to help or what to do. It’s terrifying.
Swin has asked for nothing, absolutely nothing other than something it can show the people around it to make them feel like they’re not going to be abandoned. To make sure they’re not forgotten in some pit praying Rafah opens before Israel decides to slaughter them all.
Today was a bad day. She’s alive but beyond worrying about her privacy now; she’s asked me to share this and to beg that we not lose steam and forget about them. Please share this, and please keep being fucking annoying and loud and digging your heels in with fury because we cannot let these people die silently.
[Times of Gaza] [QUD network] [Eye on Palestine]
[link to GCC registration website as the link in this picture is broken]
Please keep in mind that the Global Conscience Convoy is NOT soliciting donations, and registration is to sign up for attendance to the actual event in Cairo. There’s a list of other actions you can do to boost awareness for their protest at Rafah on the website.
#palestine#world news#gaza strip#israel#dis.txt#long post#psa#important#i just want her to come home man#i’m so so so so proud of her
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happy ending, new beginning | hhj (m)
summary: when your friend gifts you an appointment for a massage, he fails to mention one critical detail. luckily, it turns out to be a pleasant surprise with a very happy ending.
pairing: hyunjin x fem reader
genre: smut
word count: 8.3k
rating: mature (18+)
warnings & features: profanity; mentions of the reader having a menstrual cycle; graphic sexual content; the “massage with a happy ending” trope; fingering; risky workplace sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; pullout method
author’s note: i really cannot believe this is as many words as it is because there is seriously no plot here. i hope you enjoy!
{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }
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The cozy parlor smells nice, like powder and fresh linens.
The receptionist at the counter smiles. “Hello, good morning. Checking in?”
You smile back and approach them. “Hi, yes. I’m supposed to have an appointment at ten o’clock?”
You give them your name. They tap a few things on their screen and nod.
“All right, you are all checked in. If you want to have a seat, Hyunjin will be with you shortly.”
No sooner have you taken a seat and crossed your legs than the glass door behind the receptionist’s counter opens. Out steps a tall, thin man dressed head to toe in white. Thin, white short-sleeved shirt, loose-fitting white cotton pants, shiny white designer shoes. His blond hair is buzzed short. His ears are decorated with multiple golden piercings. His eyes are a deep brown, and there is a distinctly feline quality to his gaze.
He’s beautiful.
Of course Minho booked you a massage with the most beautiful masseur ever.
The man smiles brightly and says your name as a question. His voice is soft and rather pleasant. A lovely voice to match a handsome face. Of course.
You stand and manage to smile back. “That’s me. Hi.”
He extends his hand and you shake it. His skin is warm. Soft, too.
“Hi, I’m Hyunjin, nice to meet you. Please, come on back.”
He holds the door open and ushers you ahead of him. His hand grazes the center of your back, and your heart flutters for some reason.
“We’ll be in the last room on the right,” he says.
You walk down the short hallway and turn through the last door on the right with Hyunjin right behind you.
In your mind, you pictured a sterile white room. Instead, the walls are painted a beautiful shade of green with paintings of flowers and landscapes displayed upon them. There is a long counter along one wall with a round porcelain sink in the middle. Near the sink are a multitude of candles and small bottles and vials. Rolled towels are stuffed in the shelves beneath the counter. In the center of the room is the massage table, longer than it is wide. A white sheet is fitted on top of it. The smell of powder and fresh linen is stronger back here.
Hyunjin steps around you, and you catch the scent of him when the air moves. He smells of something rich and slightly sweet, like dark chocolate. He pulls a fluffy white towel out from under the counter and sets it on the edge of the massage table. Then he looks to you and smiles again. The groove of a dimple appears in his cheek.
“I’m going to step out for a few minutes,” he says. “I want you to undress entirely, please. Bra, underwear, everything. We don’t want to stain any of your clothing with the oils. Then I want you to lie face down on the table with the towel over you like it’s a blanket, please.”
You nod along to his instructions. When he is finished, you say, “Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He leaves and gently shuts the door behind him.
You undress and pile your clothing on a nearby chair, sliding your shoes underneath it. Then you pick up the towel and shake it open before climbing onto the padded massage table and lying face down under your makeshift blanket.
It takes several minutes, but eventually there is a knock on the door. Hyunjin calls your name and asks, “Are you decent?”
“Yes. Come in,” you say, turning your head to see him enter.
He steps inside and closes the door again. You lock eyes for a second, then he moves to the counter. Music begins playing. A slow, relaxing piano melody. You hadn’t even noticed the speaker there. He also lifts one of the candles, but before he lights it, he turns back to you and asks, “Is it all right if I dim the overhead lights and light a few of the candles? They’re not scented.”
“Oh,” you say. “Uh, sure.”
He gives you a crooked grin. He really is incredibly beautiful. “It’s all right to say no,” he says.
“No, no. That sounds fine. Just seems kind of… I don’t know. Intimate, I guess. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Hyunjin’s face changes. His grin falls and his eyebrows dip in what appears to be confusion. “Is that not what you requested? When you made the appointment, I mean?” he asks.
You fidget with the sheet, plucking at an imaginary loose thread. “I didn’t set it up myself, actually,” you explain. “My friend did. As a gift.”
Hyunjin’s shoulders drop. It seems like realization is hitting him.
“Ah,” he says, turning all the way from the counter to face you fully. “I’m sorry, this is my fault. I should have confirmed everything with you before I left the room.”
He steps over to a screen the size of an iPad mounted face-high on the wall by the door. He pulls something up on it and nods to himself. Then he looks back to you and explains, “Your friend booked you with me for the full deluxe package. That’s a two hour session which includes establishing relaxing ambiance—the candles, lighting, music, et cetera—the massage of course, use of any and as many essential oils as you wish, and a… a happy ending, if you’re familiar with the term.”
You nearly choke on the spit in your mouth. “O-Oh! Oh my god,” you stammer. “You mean…?”
“An orgasm, yes,” Hyunjin says. “To be clear. Which I should be and should have been from the start.”
Oh, you are going to fucking kill Minho when you see him. No wonder he had been so excited to give you this gift. He does like giving you things you would never buy for yourself, and this definitely fits into that category. Plus, the main reason he did this for you in the first place is because of the recent breakup you’ve gone through. ‘It’ll take your mind off it for a while.’ ‘You deserve to treat yourself.’
Full deluxe package, huh. That twisted fuck.
“No, you’re fine,” you tell Hyunjin, “it’s my friend who should have been clear from the start. Fucking prick.”
Hyunjin chuckles a little. “If you want to cancel, I totally understand. I’ll refund your friend.”
You chew on your lip in thought for a moment then ask, “You really offer that here?”
“Refunds?”
You laugh, loudly and genuinely. “No. You know what I mean.”
Hyunjin laughs too. “Yes, I get paid to massage people then make them come. Though not as many people book for that as you might think. You’d think they’d at least be curious, but I think they assume it’s a terrible joke. Anyway, I know this was a lot to spring on you. It’s all right to change your mind and decline. That goes for anything that happens in here this morning.”
You think for another moment. Another question comes to mind. “What if I had a partner?” you ask. “You wouldn’t offer this in that case, would you?”
Hyunjin consults the screen on the wall again, scrolling with the tip of his finger. He points to something and replies, “Your appointment form says you’re single, unless your friend lied about that.”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “No, that’s correct. I was just curious.”
“Everything that happens here is private and confidential,” Hyunjin says, sort of dodging your original question at first, but then he adds, “but no. I wouldn’t offer this service to people in relationships. Unless they’ve lied on their appointment form, of course.”
“Huh. Well I guess that’s on them and not you then.”
Hyunjin gives a tight smile. “What other questions or concerns do you have?” he asks. He sounds patient and genuinely curious. You get the impression he is good at this. At his job.
“What if I was on my period?” you ask.
“We have tampons. Or if you wanted to put your underwear back on and wear a pad, we’d have to get you cleaned of all the oil first. I would also lay an extra towel beneath you.”
“So… you’d still do it?”
Hyunjin flashes an easier smile. “I would use gloves for sanitary purposes, but yes, I would. Are you on your period? Do I need to step out again or get you anything? Or would you prefer to reschedule?”
“No, no. I’m not. Just curious again.”
“These are good questions.” Again, he sounds genuine and kind.
Are you really willing to let this beautiful stranger give you an orgasm though? It wouldn’t be the first time, but this isn’t exactly a dating app hookup or picking someone up at the bar.
Still, if this is what his job entails and it is a totally normal occurrence for him, why not go along with it? What would it hurt?
You shake your head again. “I can’t think of anything else,” you say slowly. “And I… I’ll go with everything that was booked.”
“You sure? No hard feelings if you want to omit some things or reschedule or completely cancel. I promise.”
You swallow and nod. “I’m sure.”
Hyunjin flashes a brighter smile, bringing back the dimple in his cheek. You entertain the idea that he might actually be relieved by your answer, but surely that is not the case. This is work to him, and this is still a customer service type of job.
“All right. So, would you like me to dim the lights and light some candles?” he asks, easily picking up right where he left off.
“Sure. That would be nice.”
He does so quickly, lighting and placing the candles in various places around the room before dimming the overhead lights. You can still see him well enough to watch him move back to the counter and wash his hands at the sink. The faint light catches on the jewelry in his ears. After he dries his hands, he starts examining the bottles. He does not look at you when he speaks again.
“So, you’re booked for a full body massage. No pun intended,” he says, making you laugh. “But are there any specific areas you want me to focus on? And yes, you’re allowed to say something like your breasts or your glutes or your pelvis.”
Heat rises in your face. “No. Nowhere in particular,” you answer.
Hyunjin nods to himself and lifts a couple bottles. “Your form said no known allergies to any oils or lotions or skincare products in general. Is that correct?”
You sigh. “Yeah, that’s correct. Minho might be a prick but he knows me well.”
Hyunjin laughs again. You like that sound.
“All right, what about scent preferences? Dislikes?”
“Uh… what do you recommend? What’s your favorite?”
He looks at you. “Oh. Well, I like green tea and eucalyptus the most. Lavender is nice too, if you want to relax to the point of falling asleep, which a lot of people do. We also have rose oil, coconut, ginger, frankincense…”
“The green tea one sounds nice,” you decide.
“Good choice.”
Hyunjin sets both the bottles in his hands down and lifts another. He opens it and pours a healthy amount into his palm.
“These are all safe for even the most intimate areas,” he says, rubbing his hands together to warm and spread the oil, “but let me know if you feel any burning or unpleasantness at any time, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
He touches your arm that is closest to him. You automatically lift it because you think that will make his work easier, but he gently pushes it back down and says, “Just relax, please. No need to lift a finger. I’ll do all the work.”
Something in the way he says that has heat rushing south between your legs. How are you supposed to relax when you know what is waiting for you at the end? Maybe it would help if you didn’t stare at the handsome man touching your body the entire time, so you turn your face to fit it into the cutout in the table and mumble an apology to the floor.
“Don’t be sorry,” Hyunjin says, gliding a firm hand up your arm, coating it in the fragrant, pleasantly tingly oil. He starts making conversation by asking, “So what made your friend book this appointment for you? Work stress? Just for fun?”
It would be easy to answer with one of those choices, but he has been so kind, so you feel compelled to tell him the truth.
“I went through a… sort of a nasty breakup a few months ago. I’m getting over it, but I was pretty down about it for a while.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. And I’m sorry to bring it up.”
Hyunjin kneads downward from your bicep to your wrist, then slots his fingers between yours to hold your hand and roll your wrist in a gentle circle. Somehow, that gesture feels every bit as intimate as if he was already touching between your legs.
“You’re fine,” you say.
He lets go of your hand and goes back to your bicep, repeating his earlier motions until he reaches your hand again. He rubs at your fingers, either intentionally or unintentionally popping a few of your knuckles in the process.
“We don’t have to talk at all, by the way,” Hyunjin says. “You can tell me to be quiet.”
You smile at the floor. “No, I… I like conversation. Better than sitting here in silence, I think.”
“Well, your emotional and mental comfort are as important to me as your physical comfort,” he says. His hand moves to your upper back between your shoulders, skirting along the edge of the towel. “Is it all right if I pull the towel down a bit? Just to the middle of your back for now.”
“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”
He folds the towel back just as he said. The air is a little cool on your bare skin, but his warm hands are there to soothe that problem in no time. The oil feels pleasant as he smears it along your skin. The scent of green tea envelopes but does not overwhelm you. The song changes in the background to a different piano melody.
Hyunjin hums in thought as he prods your shoulders with his fingertips. “You have quite a bit of tension up here,” he says. “Do you sit at a desk all day for work?”
You nod against the table. “Yeah, actually. And I’ve been told my posture isn’t great.”
He chuckles. “I wasn’t going to lecture you or anything, I swear. I was just curious myself.”
A couple quiet minutes go by as he works the knots in your shoulders. You’re the one to speak up and carry on the conversation this time.
“So how did you get into this job?”
“Oh, a friend of a friend thought I’d be good at it. It sounded fun. I thought it would just be a temporary thing but then I was actually going to school for it, and then I was doing hundreds of hours of training and getting my whole license, so I guess this is my career now. I like it though. It’s interesting, you know. Unconventional. Can’t imagine doing something like sitting at a desk all day.”
You both laugh again. You did not realize your legs were tense, but you feel them relax as you sink just a little deeper into the cushioned table.
“I feel like it could make relationships awkward though,” you say, then immediately wish you hadn’t. That was probably too personal.
Hyunjin hums but does not pause his work for a second. He pushes his thumbs up and down along the upper part of your spine and says, “I went through a rough breakup a while ago myself because of my career. I told her it was just work and there are other jobs out there that involve touching people’s genitals, but that was a mistake. I mean, I know it’s not the same. There’s definitely a difference between what I do and what a cerologist does. I get that.”
“A cerologist?”
“Sorry. A wax specialist.”
“Ah. Right.”
He sighs heavily. “Anyway, I’ve been hesitant to get seriously involved with anyone since then.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” you say, shifting your weight a little. “It is just a job though.”
“Easy for someone who’s not my girlfriend to say,” Hyunjin jokes. The laughter in the room is more awkward this time. “Sorry,” he says after. “That was weird. I’m sorry.”
It takes more strength than it should, but you turn your face to look at him. He meets your eyes. The candlelight behind him gives his form a glowing outline. Coupled with his white clothing and golden hair, he looks positively radiant.
“It’s all right,” you say. “For whatever it’s worth, I think you’re really good at your job, Hyunjin.”
There are dimples in both his cheeks when he smiles this time. “Thank you. That’s kind of you.”
You shrug. “It’s true.”
He holds eye contact with you for a few seconds longer before looking away. He inhales deeply and clears his throat. “Is it all right if I lower the towel again? Down to your lower back this time?”
“Trying to see my tattoo?” you tease.
He lets out that warm laugh. “If you have a tattoo anywhere on your body, I’ll probably see it, don’t worry. May I, though?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He folds the towel further and sees nothing but naked skin. He laughs under his breath and turns back to the counter to pour more oil into his hands. It squelches when he rubs his hands together.
You wonder how much time has gone by already. He still has your lower back, your legs, then your entire front to do, you assume. And that’s before you even get to the grand finale.
When his hands smooth their way across the small of your back, your thoughts dissipate. Your breathing slows after a while, until a particularly good press of his fingers on your lower spine elicits a moan from you.
“Sorry, I—” you start, then promptly shut your mouth. You should not have acknowledged the sound at all. That made it a hundred times weirder.
“No, don’t be sorry,” Hyunjin says again. “That’s a good thing. It lets me know it feels good, which is important, obviously. And the walls are soundproof, so don’t worry about that.”
You let out a tiny breath of laughter. “It feels really good,” you say honestly.
“The pressure is okay then?”
“You could go a little, uh, harder, actually.”
“No problem.”
He starts using the heels of his palms to rub outward from your spine to your sides, all the way from your lower back up to your shoulder blades. The oil is very slick, but his hands never slip or fumble in their movements. He does this over and over, moving up and down from the center outward. Another quiet moan comes straight from your throat.
“That’s it,” Hyunjin whispers. His voice is so soft you’re not even sure if he meant for you to hear that or not. A crazy part of you wonders if he ever gets hard during these sessions, but you’re definitely not saying that out loud.
After a while of Hyunjin maintaining a steady rhythm, you start to feel boneless, especially when he steps around the table to give your other side the same attention. He is probably running on auto-pilot mode by now, but your heart skips a few beats when he does the same hand-holding move on your other hand. If he notices the change in your breathing, he does not comment on it.
Eventually, Hyunjin says, “I’m going to move on to your legs now, if that’s all right.”
You hum in understanding. Your throat feels a little dry. Hyunjin carefully peels the towel off your legs and folds it upward. Only your butt remains covered at this point.
His touch feels softer when he lays his hands on the back of the thigh closest to him. For a second, it feels like his thumbs swipe back and forth with no real intention behind the movement, but then his hands glide all the way down to your ankles with the same pressure he was using on your back.
“Is the pressure still okay?” he asks.
“Y-Yeah.” You swallow through the scratchiness in your throat. “Yeah, it’s good.”
“Good.”
He squeezes down your leg repeatedly, as if he is trying to push all the tension downward and out through your foot. He keeps you in that boneless state, expertly working your muscles. After a while, you stop feeling embarrassed about your soft moans.
“Are your feet ticklish, or may I move on to those?” he asks. It feels like you have been floating, so it takes you a moment to register his words.
“I mean, they’ve never been especially ticklish?” you say. “Have at it.”
Hyunjin tickles his fingertips against the sole of your foot and laughs with you when you jerk it away. You turn your head to look at him. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes. Or maybe it’s the candlelight.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” he says. Could he possibly be flirting with you?
You swallow again and say, “You better watch it, mister.”
His eyes glimmer when he nods. “I’ll behave, I promise. Permission to continue the professional way?”
“Granted,” you say, giving him a smile before turning your face back into the cutout.
He takes your foot in a firmer touch so as not to tickle you again, even accidentally. For some reason, this part of the massage feels the best yet. His fingers really know the exact ways to release the tension in your body. You knew he was good at his job.
He steps around the table again and switches to your other leg and foot. It seems like he is focusing longer on your inner thigh this time around. Your toes curl at the thought of his fingers moving just a little higher. Of course he notices.
“I know,” he says quietly. “Relax.”
Hyunjin’s touch lingers on your skin after he finishes with your other foot.
“Would you like me to do your glutes before we move on to your front?” he asks. His voice is not only low but also deeper now.
“Sure,” you say, your voice hardly more than a breath.
It takes a second before the towel lifts from your butt. Hyunjin sets it down on the back of your calves, out of his way. It takes another second before you feel his touch. He starts with your hips rather than going straight for your butt cheeks. He kneads them gently. It takes all your willpower to stay relaxed.
His thumbs eventually inch their way onto your butt while the rest of his fingers remain splayed over your hips. He presses his thumbs firmly up and outward over your cheeks. Soon he goes from using only his thumbs to using his entire hands. He easily draws more moans from you this way.
What you don’t expect to do is curse under your breath. A tiny but still audible: “Fuck.”
Hyunjin exhales hard. On one upward stroke, you could swear he gropes your flesh more than presses it, and you find you don’t mind that at all. You were wrong — this part feels the best so far.
You would have been more than happy for him to continue this part for hours, but you are reminded of the limited timeframe when he stops his movements.
He lifts the towel off your legs, but one of his hands is still resting on the small of your back when he asks, “Ready to flip over for me?”
As if you aren’t putty in his hands to mold as he pleases.
You start to turn over but you are still floating and boneless and your arms give out. Luckily your fall is all of an inch and does not hurt at all, but you are embarrassed by the fumble nonetheless.
Hyunjin curls an arm behind your back and says, “Here, lean against me. I’ll turn you over.”
“Sorry,” you say as you do as he asks. He is stronger than you expected him to be. He eases your body back into the center of the table like it’s nothing. The towel settles over you again from your collarbone to your toes. You pull your arms out from under it.
Hyunjin keeps his eyes on yours when you settle on your back. “Don’t be,” he says once again. He smiles that beautiful, dimpled smile. His fingers trail down your arm. “Still feeling good?” he asks.
You nod silently.
“Good. May I massage your chest?”
Only when he asks do you become aware of your hard nipples standing against the soft towel.
“Yes,” you say.
His eyes drop to your covered breasts. He peels the towel down, folding it down to your belly button. Then he turns to grab the bottle of oil again. He only adds a little more this time. He purses his lips as he reaches for your chest.
He starts just below your breasts and moves upward, cupping them gently—briefly—before pushing up further. The tips of his thumbs barely graze your nipples, but it’s enough to send a pulse of desire between your legs.
You hiss and bite your lip. You might have gotten comfortable with your moans, but now he can see your every facial expression, so it feels embarrassing again.
His hands lift away from your body and his eyes flick to your face in concern. “Did that hurt?” he asks.
“No, uh. The opposite actually.”
“Oh. Phew.” His face relaxes. “Do tell me if it does hurt though. I know this area can be very… tender.”
You nod and take a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.
“That’s it,” Hyunjin says gently. “Breathe. Relax. Enjoy my touch.”
You close your eyes. You don’t think you want to risk eye contact with him while he is doing this.
His hands return to your chest. He gently pushes your breasts up, then smooths over your collarbone, again and again. This part feels the most like fondling so far, but as he said, this can be a tender area, so he can’t exactly be as firm as with your back or your legs.
You sigh when his fingers ghost across your nipples again, lips parting ever so slightly. Hyunjin makes a soft noise as well. You crack an eyelid to look at him. He is focused on your chest with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed again in concentration. He looks so handsome you can’t help but blink your eyes open the rest of the way.
He smooths his face over and smiles when he notices you watching him.
“How am I doing?” he asks. “Still feeling good?”
“You’re really good at this,” you say. You sound somewhat breathless, which surprises you because you haven’t even done anything to get that way.
“Thank you. May I move the towel down a bit?”
“Sure.”
He tugs it down below your belly button, still leaving your legs and crotch covered.
“Is your stomach ticklish at all?” he asks.
“No, not really.”
He does not pull the same flirty stunt with your stomach as he did with your feet. He simply goes straight back to work, running his hands gently down your sides and across your stomach. It feels more like rubbing than pushing or pressing, probably because of all your organs just below.
His fingers frequently brush the edge of the towel when they move downward. Sometimes they dip right below the towel and skim just above your pelvis, briefly at first, then lingering for longer and longer.
Your heart kicks up when you realize what is next. Is it that time already?
Hyunjin notices the change in your breathing. You lock eyes with him again.
“We don’t have to,” he says quietly. His lips hardly move. His eyes are molten chocolate.
He stops dipping his fingertips beneath the towel. It surprises you how much you wish he would continue. You think you’ll go crazy if he doesn’t continue. You have to be honest with him.
“I want to,” you say.
You expect him to move the towel away—or ask to move it away, as he’s been doing—but he merely pushes beneath it again, this time with his whole hand. The hand not beneath the towel curls gently around your shoulder at first, then behind your neck, as if he needs to hold you steady.
“Is this all right?” Hyunjin asks. He has not broken eye contact with you.
You are not sure if he is asking about the hand holding your neck or the one teasing along your inner thigh, but you are enjoying both of them, so you nod and say, “Yes.”
“It will never be too late to change your mind and tell me to stop, okay?” he says. His hand rubs against the crease where your crotch meets your leg. He holds you there too.
You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak clearly with words instead of moans.
“Try to relax,” he says. “Don’t undo all my hard work now.”
You giggle at his joke. He smiles down at you. His eyes still have not left yours.
“And tell me if the oil irritates you at all,” he reminds you.
With that, he cups your pussy whole. You both make a noise at the sensation. You can tell you were wet, even before the oil. He must feel it too, along with the heat of you radiating into his palm. You think you hear him swear under his breath, but he clears his throat immediately after and finally looks away from your face.
Hyunjin separates his fingers and drags them down each side of your slit, avoiding your clit and your hole. Your eyelashes flutter closed. Your legs twitch and one of your hands briefly balls into a fist on the table before you relax it again. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly through your mouth. Hyunjin lightly squeezes your neck.
“Very good,” he murmurs. His fingers slowly drag up the edges of your pussy, back down again. “Breathe. Relax. Let me do all the work.”
You lick your lips and keep your eyes closed, enjoying the steady rhythm he builds of gently rubbing you up and down, spreading the oil—and surely your own wetness—over your sensitive skin.
You nearly manage to relax again when the tip of his middle finger brushes the hood of your clit. Electricity forks throughout your entire body. Your eyelids scrunch tighter and your hips twitch against the table. Hyunjin does not say anything; he simply strums that fingertip over your clit every time his hand passes back and forth. His hand continues sweeping up and down a few more times before he rests it in place and uses that wicked fingertip to draw circles into your hardened clit.
“How’s the pressure?” he asks. His voice is low and deep again.
You let out a whimper before you can speak. “Good. S-So good, ah—”
“Should I go faster? Slower?”
“F-Faster, please.”
He does so immediately. Your hips buck an inch off the table at the rush of pleasure from the change of pace. Hyunjin chuckles under his breath, but again, he does not comment on your obvious lack of relaxation.
He does say your name, however, in that low, deep voice. “I want to make you feel so good,” he says.
You’re not sure if he says those words in that tone to all his clients, but you can’t follow that train of thought right now. A fresh wave of arousal takes you, shuddering through all the muscles he just massaged. The area beneath your backside feels wetter than before with the combination of oil and arousal beginning to pool there.
“Hyunjin,” you moan before you can stop yourself.
His breath catches in his throat. You look at him again and see his eyelids are heavy over his deep brown eyes. That glowing halo of candlelight is surrounding him again.
“Fuck,” he says, not loudly, but clearly this time. He bites his lip and skims his gaze down the length of your body before meeting your eyes again. “I swear I never say this to clients, but you are so fucking beautiful.”
You whimper again when his fingertip edges beneath the hood of your clit. When he shifts his weight, you notice the considerable tent in the front of his thin pants. You moan just from the sight of it. He notices that you have noticed his problem, but he does not remove either of his hands from your body to deal with it. Again, you wonder if this always happens, even if he does not call every client beautiful.
“Can I take the towel off you? Please?” he asks in a pleading tone.
You pull it off yourself and let it drop to the floor. Hyunjin immediately looks between your legs at your naked pussy in his hand and lets out a groan from so deep in his throat that you swear you have a tiny orgasm with the next flick of his finger.
He looks back to your face. His sharp cheeks are noticeably flushed. His sharp jawline flexes beneath his flawless skin.
“Tell me if I’m out of line,” he whispers.
You bend your knees and spread them apart, a clear invitation for him to keep going. He gets the message.
“Fuck, I’m going to make you come so hard,” he says. He adds his ring finger to the circles he is drawing on your sticky clit. It feels incredible, but you still feel horribly empty inside.
“Want your fingers in me, please,” you boldly murmur.
“Yeah? You want them inside you, beautiful?”
“Well, not just your fingers.”
You meant to keep that to yourself—you really did—but you must have said it out loud because Hyunjin sucks a breath through his teeth and stops drawing those maddening circles. His cock visibly bounces in his pants. You look up at his face. An almost pained expression crosses his sculpted features.
“I… can’t, I… I never…”
“Sorry,” you say, mortified, “forget I said that. I’m so sorry.”
“I want to,” Hyunjin says, quickly and earnestly. “Trust me, I really fucking want to. I just—my license… I can’t…”
You nod over and over. “I totally get it, I’m sorry. Please ignore me.”
The pained expression does not leave Hyunjin’s face. He bites his plump bottom lip again. His eyes drop in a straight line from your eyes to your mouth to your chest to your pussy and back up again. He dips his middle finger into your pussy, only up to his first knuckle. You automatically clench around it, trying to pull it deeper. It works. He slides his finger the rest of the way inside and curls it, drawing another moan from you. He adds his index finger and curls them both, then scissors them like he wants to work you open.
He breathes hard. He gives the back of your neck another tender squeeze then mutters, “Fuck it,” and moves that hand to the strings on the front of his pants to untie them.
Your heart races. You gasp when he pulls his dick out in front of you. The tip is rosy and thick. The wetness gathered at the slit looks delicious; your immediate thought is how badly you want to lick it up.
“This has to stay between us,” Hyunjin whispers, frantically tugging his pants down to his knees with one hand. His erection stands stiff in the open air.
“I know,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I swear.”
“Come here. Please…”
Hyunjin takes your hands and helps you scoot to the edge of the table in front of him. He stands between your legs and takes the back of your neck again, forehead propped against yours. You breathe hard and stare into his eyes until you notice movement below. You watch him take his cock in hand and guide the head right to your pussy. When he pushes inside, you both gasp over the tight, wet, smooth entry. He shoves his hips forward, easily bottoming out in one stroke.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders. Hyunjin stares at your face and tries to breathe calmly through his nose, but you are not making it easy for him with the way your warm pussy is repeatedly clenching around his throbbing dick.
“Tell me when I can—”
“Please.”
He starts rolling his hips into you. Gently at first, then with more desperation. Your head rocks back and you moan toward the ceiling at the rise of pleasure. He keeps his grip behind your neck, not letting you fall backward. His other hand has a firm hold of your ass cheek, keeping you steady against his frantic thrusts. His dick rubs against almost every sensitive part of you. You shift your hips a little; it’s enough to angle his tip into that perfect spot.
“Oh fuck, right there, right there,” you pant, bringing your head around to press it back to his forehead and look into his eyes again.
Hyunjin moans and holds you tighter, pounding that spot again and again and again.
You notice him staring at your lips, so you tilt your face and lean in. He meets you in a kiss far more gentle than expected for the way the table is creaking beneath you. He ends it too quickly for your liking, studies your face for a second, then he kisses you again, much deeper this time. As soon as you feel his tongue prod against your lips, you part them and let it swarm into your mouth. His tongue tastes of mint and sugar and he moans so prettily into your mouth. He’s perfect.
You voice your pleasure into the tender kisses. “Yes, yes, fuck, Hyunjin, yes—”
Hyunjin pulls away from the kisses with a low groan. He nearly pulls out of your pussy too, to your great dismay. His hips come to a shaky stop with just the tip of his cock left inside you.
“Sorry, I just need a minute,” he says, breathless and smiling sheepishly. “You’re so tight and you sound so hot and it’s… it’s been a while for me.”
“Take your time,” you say. You’re not sure how much time is left in your session, but you won’t complain if he wants to prolong something he shouldn’t be doing in the first place, and you certainly don’t mind being told how tight and hot you are.
Hyunjin’s fingers massage the back of your neck. He pulls you into another tender kiss. You clutch his shoulders, nails digging into his smooth skin, and feel his cockhead twitch inside you. He begins moving his hips again, but he only fucks you with his fat tip now. You whine and whimper because it isn’t enough.
“What about my ‘happy ending’?” you tease, pouting against his lips.
Hyunjin laughs and kisses you again, tongue briefly curling against yours, before answering, “I know, don’t worry. I’m still going to make you come so hard, especially now that it’ll be on my dick.”
He says that but he has the audacity to pull all the way out of you. Before you can protest, he takes your hands again.
“Here,” he says, tugging your hands. “Let’s turn you around.”
You slide off the table. He holds your waist in a strong arm to keep your oily feet from slipping on the floor.
Hyunjin turns you around and bends you over the massage table. He whips off his shirt and follows you, draping his warm body over yours. His wet cock throbs against your ass cheek.
“Is this all right?”
“It’s good, Hyunjin, please…”
He takes your hip in one hand and puts himself back inside you with the other. You moan at the stretch, the friction, the raw pleasure.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. Once he is secure enough inside you, he lets go of himself and runs that hand up the length of your spine. “I want to hear all your moans, pretty girl. Let me know how good it feels.”
When he bottoms out this time, he does not give you a moment to adjust; he builds up a relentless pace right away. It takes him a second to find the right angle in this position, but he eventually hits that spot inside you again that has you seeing stars. He hits it over and over, keeping you right there on the end of his pounding cock.
“Fuck—yes—Hyunjin, yes!”
“That’s it, baby, fuck, just like that. You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”
The hand that is not holding you steady at the hip is making its way all over your body, the body he has had his hands on all morning. He holds the back of your neck again for a while, holding you down to take everything he gives you. He wraps it around your front, pawing back and forth between your heaving breasts, giving each of your nipples a few good pinches. He trails it down your stomach to stuff it between your legs where he finds your clit again. He pinches it the way he pinched your nipples, just to hear you squeal. Then he resumes drawing the circles that started this all.
Hyunjin gets you to come in only a few minutes with his talented fingers. He is like a man possessed, a man with something to prove with how quickly he unravels you.
“Hyunjin, fuck, I’m coming, I’m—” you gasp, though he surely feels it for himself.
He groans and folds himself over you, face pressed to your back, writhing and bucking with you through your orgasm. His hips do not stop bouncing against your backside. He keeps grinding his cock deep inside you, slamming his heavy balls against you. His fingers do not stop playing with your sensitive clit.
He eases the pressure of those fingers once the force of your orgasm wanes, but he never stops completely. His cock throbs hard between your silky, sensitive walls, but he manages to withhold his own orgasm.
“There we go—mmm, fuck—yeah, that’s it,” he says, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your slick, sweaty skin. “So fucking good. That’s just the first one, baby.”
You push yourself up onto your palms against the table, elbows wobbling just like your knees in the aftershocks of your intense climax. Hyunjin moves with you, leaning back to stand straight. He moves a hand against your collarbone to pull you into his chest. You turn your head. He is already there, ready to meet you in a kiss that leaves you even dizzier.
He already alluded to more, but now he asks, “Can you do another one for me, or are you satisfied?”
“You didn’t come yet, did you?” you ask in return.
He exhales a breath of laughter. “No. If you come again, I will. I won’t be able to hold out twice. But that’s not what I asked, pretty girl.”
“Then I’m not satisfied yet,” you say, grinning and kissing his smooth, pink cheek.
Hyunjin chuckles. “All right. Let me turn you back around then. I want to see your face when you come around me this time.”
He has to pull out again to sit you back on the table, which is tragic, but the sight of his veiny cock glistening in a layer of your juices is worth it. You reach for it, letting the weight of it simply rest in your palm for a second before taking proper hold of it in a loose fist. Hyunjin groans and wraps his hand around yours, guiding it up and down his length. The skin is smooth and velvety soft but stretched tight over his solid length and girth.
You only give him half a dozen guided strokes before he pries your hand away.
“I bet you’re pretty good with your hands too, huh baby,” he says, caging you in his arms by planting his hands beside you on the table. “I wish we had more time for you to demonstrate.”
You nearly forgot about the time constraint. You nod and spread your legs. Hyunjin grabs you under one of your knees to help hold you open and also tug you closer to him. He takes his cock and smacks the tip against your clit a few times, still taking the time to rile you up just a little more before sinking back inside you.
“God, this pussy,” he grunts. The grip he has under your knee tightens. His other hand returns to your ass, practically yanking you the rest of the way onto his cock. “It wraps around me perfectly.”
He fucks you again, deep and hard. The table starts creaking again. You hold each other close as he works you both to your highs. He has his face in your neck, kissing and licking and nibbling at your skin. You try to do the same, but all his neck receives in return is a babble of breathless nonsense drawn from your lips with every firm thrust.
His fingers slip their way between your legs again, feeling where his cock is moving in and out of your pussy. His thumb presses against your swollen clit and you lose a bit of your mind. He pulls his face out of your neck to look at you again.
“You first, baby, fuck,” Hyunjin pants. His sweet breath tickles your face. “Please come for me again. Let me feel it again. Let me see it this time, hm? Let me hear how good it feels to come all—over—my fucking—dick.”
“Oh fuck, Hyunjin, don’t stop, don’t stop, please,” you say, moaning it over and over again until your orgasm takes you. You go rigid and then boneless in a different way, trembling through the waves of your second climax.
Hyunjin groans triumphantly and watches it all. “That’s it, that’s it. Fuck yes, that’s so good, baby, oh, yes—”
He fucks you through your orgasm as long as he can but his own quickly catches up to him. He pulls out at the last second and frantically jerks his cock. His cum shoots out in long streaks, landing all over the place — your stomach, your thighs, the table, the floor. Part of your lust-addled brain hoped he would lose himself completely and come inside you, but the sensible part of you is relieved he didn’t.
He squeezes the last few drops out of his tip and lets go of his cock. It hangs heavy between his legs, flushed and spent. Your pussy is in a similar state; aching in the best way, swollen and throbbing after a thorough fucking. You think you can feel your heartbeat in it.
Hyunjin is as out of breath as you are but he reaches for you and claims your lips in another kiss. When he pulls away, you become aware of just how oily and sticky and sweaty you both are.
“Holy fuck,” you giggle, making him giggle too.
“Yeah. ‘Holy fuck’ is right.”
He clears the rasp in his throat but does not say anything else for a little while. He rests his forehead against yours while you both float back down to earth, waiting for your breathing to settle and your heartbeats to calm. One of his thumbs traces mindless circles into your hip. You absently massage the prickly hairs at the nape of his neck.
Finally, Hyunjin takes a deep breath and straightens. He fixes his pants and pulls his shirt back on. You watch him walk to the other side of the table and pick the towel off the floor. He helps get you cleaned up as best he can. You know you will still walk out of here smelling like green tea and sweat and maybe even his cum, which you help wipe off the floor. He tells you not to fuss over the cum stain on the sheet since he will have to strip it and sanitize the table anyway.
The feeling of his skin on yours lingers even after you have both been wiped and patted and dried off. Hyunjin gently takes your hands and meets your eyes again.
“I hope I—um—” he starts, then swallows and tries again. “I swear I don’t do that with clients. Ever.”
“I believe you,” you say. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”
“I hope I didn’t mess anything up,” he goes on, “because it kind of felt like there was something between us, even before the sex. Unless I’m mistaken?”
Your heart flutters. “No, I… I agree,” you say, the hint of a smile tugging your lips. “Maybe I’ll make an appointment myself next time.”
Hyunjin laughs. “Well I was hoping I could give you my personal number. Maybe take you out on a date sometime. Then you’d never have to make an appointment again.”
“Oh! Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
“You’ll have to thank your friend for me for booking you this appointment though,” he jokes.
You burst out laughing because you forgot Minho is the reason you are here in the first place.
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to thank him earlier,” you say, making Hyunjin laugh again, “but yeah, I guess I will now.”
You smile at him. Hyunjin cups your face in his hands for another kiss before he lets you get dressed, puts his number in your phone, then walks you back to the waiting room. He bids you goodbye with a gleam in his eye that makes your heart flutter once again.
You hope this is the start of something happy and new.
---
copyright © 2025 by daizymax / lxveuntold. all rights reserved. back to masterlist
#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#happy ending new beginning#lxveuntold
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── ୨୧ ! MIDNIGHT COMPANY
chris sturniolo x reader
SUMMARY: While filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.
WARNING: Toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.
She really didn't.
She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.
But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.
"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."
Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.
"Okay."
They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.
He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.
He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.
"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.
Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.
"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.
"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.
Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.
They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.
"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.
Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.
"I-I think so."
Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.
"You’re not even paying attention."
"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."
"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.
Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.
As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.
Crash!
The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.
"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.
She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.
"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.
"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.
She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.
"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."
But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.
She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.
A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.
Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.
Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.
"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."
"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.
"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"
Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.
"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."
She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?
"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"
She nodded, swallowing hard.
"Now, get up."
She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.
"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."
The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.
"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.
"But-"
"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.
Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.
The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.
Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.
When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.
"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."
Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.
"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.
Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.
As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.
Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.
Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.
"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.
"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."
Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.
"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.
Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.
"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"
The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.
"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.
"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.
Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.
"I’m sorry..."
"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"
The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.
Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.
"This guy’s a piece of-"
"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.
"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.
"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.
"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.
"I wasn’t-"
"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"
Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.
"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."
"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.
She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.
Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.
"Do we step in?"
"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.
"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.
"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.
Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.
"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"
He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.
She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.
"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."
Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.
"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."
"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.
Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.
Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.
"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"
"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.
But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.
He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.
"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.
He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.
Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.
"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.
She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.
He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.
"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.
"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."
She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.
Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.
"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"
She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.
"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.
She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.
"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."
After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.
"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.
Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."
She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.
"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.
"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."
She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.
Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.
"I don’t think you are."
"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.
Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.
"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."
She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.
"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."
Chris’s heart sank at her words.
"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.
She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.
"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."
Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.
"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."
"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."
Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.
"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."
Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.
"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.
Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.
"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."
Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.
"You don’t know anything about me."
Chris held up his hands.
"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."
She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.
"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."
Chris watched her for a second too long.
"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."
"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.
Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.
"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"
Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.
"No! No, I can’t call anyone."
"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."
"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."
Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.
"Please, I’m just trying to-"
"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."
Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.
"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."
"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."
She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.
"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"
Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.
"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."
Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.
"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."
"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."
Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.
"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."
She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.
"Why do you care so much?"
Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.
"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."
She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.
"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."
Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.
"I don’t even know what I’d do."
Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.
"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."
She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.
"Okay." She said.
Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.
"Okay." He echoed.
For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.
He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.
"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."
Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.
"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.
Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.
"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."
That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.
"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."
Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.
"What are they like?"
Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.
"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."
This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.
"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."
She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.
"Must be nice." She murmured.
Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.
"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."
Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.
"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.
"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."
She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.
"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"
"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."
Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.
"Thanks." She said quietly.
"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.
"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."
Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.
"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."
She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.
"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.
Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.
"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."
Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.
"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.
Chris gave her a warm smile.
"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."
Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.
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