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rafeskiss · 9 months ago

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pretty voice ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: you’re a singer and your tour has made its way to boston where your boyfriend and his brothers attend your show. matt is sure to let you know how well you did after the show

warnings: smut duhhhh, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap his willy!!), p in v, throat fucking, dumbification, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, swearing, creampie, use of “y/n”, probably more that i can’t think of! :)

authors note: fair warning, this is my first time publishing smut, so don’t have insanely high expectations! i’ve written it before but never shared so keep that in mind. however, i can assure you this isn’t completely horrible and i did my best to make it seem realistic but hot at the same time :) hope ya like it!

you had been counting down the days until your sold out world tour made its way to boston, massachusetts. your boyfriend, matt, and his brothers were set to attend the show which made you feel slightly uneasy.

the triplets have never seen you perform live, which is what makes this show so special. you wanted matt to know you were good at what you do. so, you paced around your dressing room doing vocal warmups and eating tablespoons of honey to help your throat.

a stage worker knocked on your door twice before coming in and attaching your mic pack to the back of your dress. tonight, you wore a black strapless mini dress from versace that had hearts of many colors scattered across. you paired this with knee high black boots, which your friends referred to as your “stripper shoes”. you fixed your hair, spraying some dry shampoo on your roots and mentally said a prayer before walking out of the dressing room.

you received your cue to enter the stage, walking up 4 steps before you were greeted with hundreds of screaming teenage girls. you forgot about needing to impress matt.

that was, until, you locked eyes with him. he was standing on the second floor of the venue, the balcony, resting against the railing. watching you so intently, mouthing the lyrics to your songs. nick was singing along to all the songs he knew, while chris just knew the popular songs. but matt knew almost all of your songs. he was your biggest fan. and you were his. most times, you would be spotted attending the triplet’s shows when your schedules aligned. you’d stand backstage, just barely out of the crowds sight. all decked out in blue attire to support your boy, and even the things the rest of the world couldn’t see were blue, too. but matt got to see them after the show. your blue bra and matching blue panties; it drove matt crazy how he got to see you like that after the show, especially if he was the one winning that night.

the show came to an end and you said your goodbyes to the boston crowd, exiting the stage. you walked into a lounge area where the triplets were, along with members of your team. you were swarmed with the usual compliments: “you sounded so good” or “you look great” and you were grateful for them, but tonight they didn’t matter. the only person who’s input you cared about was matt.

he approached you, draping his arms around your neck and you wrapped yours around his waist. he whispered in your ear, “you did so good. ‘m so proud of you.”

you blushed at this, pulling away from the hug. “thanks,” you gushed.

since your next show wasn’t until saturday, you had two days to kill here in boston. you were going to stay with the triplets until you had to get back on your tour bus and depart from matt, so you had to make it count.

matt drove you all home, you took chris’ place in the passenger seat, still in your performance outfit. the drive home was filled with conversation about the concert; what their favorite part was, what songs they liked, etc. and while you were a decently known singer, you never felt famous. until now. matt made you feel famous, like you are on top of the world. you have everything you’ve ever wanted; friends that support you, a successful singing career, and a hot boyfriend. what more could a girl ask for?

you walked through the door barefoot, matt holding your unusually heavy boots. he sets them on the floor by the door as you make a run for the couch, laying down and sighing. while it may be just a simple couch, it feels pretty damn good after wearing “stripper shoes” and prancing around on a stage for an hour and a half.

nick and chris go to their own rooms, knowing you and matt need alone time after not seeing each other for a couple weeks. matt joins you on the couch, he lifts your head up and places it on his lap. his legs were your pillow and the only thing missing was a blanket, still in your tiny dress.

“you cold?” he asks, almost as if he can your mind.

you smile, “how’d you know?”

he reaches to his side and grabs a big blue blanket and tosses it over you, it’s big enough that it covers your whole body.

matt lightly strokes your hair as you lay there in the comfortable silence.

the way your head rests is so close to his dick and he can’t help it if it slowly is getting harder, which it is. you tease him, nuzzling your head deeper into his lap, a.k.a. his dick, which causes him to speak up.

“the fuck are you doing?” he laughs.

you play it off, “just getting comfy!”

“yeah, comfy my ass.” he rolls his eyes playfully.

you press a small kiss to his clothed bulge, he’s wearing baggy jeans and his dick still stands out. he sighs, not complaining.

“you gonna do this right here? in the living room?” he questions.

“mhm..” you hummed. he helped you unbutton his jeans, his black calvin kleins peaking out through the zipper of his jeans. he pulled his boxers down, revealing his dick. he was packing a very pleasant 8 inches that wasn’t too shabby in girth either.

you licked the tip first, then you licked from shaft to tip. matt closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. he placed his hands on the back of your head, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“voice sounded so good tonight, y/n,” he breathed. “bet it would still sound good if i fucked your throat.”

he pushes your head down all the way to his pelvis, feeling you gag against his cock. he thrusts into your mouth, the wet sounds like music to his ears.

as he fucked your throat, you felt tears forming in your eyes. you hollowed out your cheeks and looked up at him with doe eyes, laying on your stomach on the couch. you admired the way his eyes fluttered shut everytime he hit the back of your throat, how he’d let out small breathy moans.

“fuck,” he whispers, pulling away. he pulls his boxers down farther so his thighs are exposed. you climb on top of hip and he rolls your tight dress up to your waist, pulling your panties to the side.

“easy access, huh?” he remarks.

you whine, “put it in already…”

his dick enters you and he wastes no time slamming you down on it, his hands firmly gripping your hips. “want it so bad, yeah? you want it so bad?” he taunts, lifting you up and slamming you back down fast.

you are shocked with the speed he did that, not able to form a full sentence. “i- uhm- mhm,” you mumble.

“use that pretty voice of yours, y/n. such a pretty voice… let me hear it,” he rasped.

you bounced on his dick, the couch shaking. “mmmmm, i love your dick so much,” you moaned.

matt smirked, “there’s that pretty voice. so, so pretty.” he continued helping you bounce on his dick, his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

he pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your bra-less tits. now your dress was basically like a belt, just covering your waist. your boobs bounced perfectly in front of his face, he was mesmerized.

you brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through it and pulling it when he’d hit your g-spot.

you let out a moan that was almost melodic, matt moaning after. “love hearing you moan on my dick.” he spoke. he gripped your hips tighter, slamming you down harder onto his dick every time.

“i’m gonna- oh god!” you whined.

“do it.” matt instructed. “cum for me.”

you nodded, babbling incoherently as you came undone on top of him. his right hand left your hip and found it’s way to your clit, rubbing you through the orgasm.

“fucked ya dumb, huh? damn,” he said.

you hummed in response, and once your orgasm passed you started bouncing again, desperate for more.

matt turned you around and pushed you onto the couch, in missionary now. now he can pound into you way easier, which is what you’re trying to ask for but you’re unable to speak.

“i— oh—“ you try.

matt smirks, “words, baby.”

this fucker, you thought. there are no thoughts inside your head other than how good his dick feels inside you, there’s no way you can speak.

“oh god… so, umph,” you sobbed as he thrusted into you with an insane amount of force. “so good,”

his thumb found its way to your clit again, rubbing it fast. your eyes rolled back as another orgasm approaches you.

“uhhh- uh—“ you babble. your brain is mush at this point, you don’t notice the bulge in your stomach. but matt does, as his hand leaves your clit and presses on the bulge his dick makes in your tummy with every thrust.

“look at that,” he says proudly. you squirm beneath him, cumming yet for the second time.

his thrusts don’t slow down, and neither do the tears running down your pink cheeks.

“can i cum inside you?” he asks as if you can even answer him. you let out a bunch of moans in response.

you let out a bunch of moans, “i’m gonna take that as a yes.” matt groans before thrusting into you once more. you lay on the couch with your dress still pulled over your pussy and your breasts pulled out.

matt stands up and pulls his boxers and pants up. he plants a kiss on your forehead before he picks you up and carries you to his room. he lays you down in his bed, his silk bedsheets feeling good on your overheated skin.

you’re exhausted, you feel like you melt into his bed. you’re on the verge of sleep but you’re startled when you hear either chris or nick’s bedroom door open.

you lift your head up, and matt opens the door to see what is going on. matt laughs and closes the door.

“what’s he doing?” you ask sleepily.

“nicks wiping the couch down,” matt giggles.

you hear nick through the walls, “i’m gonna fucking cry. never do that shit again.” he whines.

#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets smut #smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #how tf do i even tag this

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clairemercie · 3 months ago

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Aphrodite's Closet (clockwise from top left): La Perla SS 2003, Paco Rabanne SS 2001, Stella McCartney SS 2004, Vivienne Westwood SS 1999, Versace Menswear SS 2003, Jean Louis Scherrer Haute Couture FW 1998

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slay-classy · 1 year ago

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astraystayyh · 7 months ago

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Starry night.

in which you and hyune fall in love through paintings.

idol!hyunjin x museum guide!reader. love at first sight, kinda. both mc and hyune are romantics.. lots of art analysis and conversations. very fluffy and soft. like so soft i hurt myself with this you guys.

all the info about Vincent Van Gogh’s life and works are from the Van Gogh Museum. the interpretations are my own but im not an art critic, obvi, just a yearner 💔 please enjoy, feedback is highly appreciated 💞

thank you to the lovely reader who commissioned me!!!! the money went to our stayblr fundraiser for palestine. please consider donating if you are able too as well <3333

“You’ll be able to do it, right?” Your manager Martin looks at you expectantly, and you blink slowly in response. It, referring to leading a private tour of the Van Gogh exhibition.

You’ve been a museum guide in New York for four months now. When you’re not painting, you’re here, amidst the array of artworks nestled in a quaint street near East River. You’ve led group tours before, always under the watchful eye of Martin, a middle-aged man who never forgets to bring you a vanilla bourbon macaron every morning.

However, you’ve never handled a private tour before. You see the desperation in Martin’s eyes as he awaits your answer—he’s the one who usually handles these tours, but he has urgent family matters to suddenly attend to.

You blink again, your tongue unknotting in a split second. “I’d be happy to,” you beam. The exhibition feels like a second home to you; you’ve visited it countless times long before you started working here.

Martin heaves a sigh of relief, smiling back at you. “I believe in you,” he reassures, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Remember why I chose you.”

You grin at his words, nodding vigorously. Your love for art brought you here; your very being seems molded to breathe in paintings and live among them. It’s as sweet a life as it can get.

“You’ll find all the details about our guest in our log. He’s famous, so he’ll be a bit discreet. He’ll expect you to be too,” he explains, hurriedly packing his things. You nod, taking the keys to the art gallery from his hand.

“Don’t worry, the gallery is safe in my hands.”

“I know,” he says with a comforting smile, before finally waving goodbye. You take a deep breath and check the booking for tonight’s exhibition—Hwang Hyunjin.

The name is unfamiliar to you, and so is the face that greets you at 8 p.m. sharp—at least, what you can see of it. He’s wearing a navy cap and a face mask, with a varsity jacket sitting perfectly atop his broad shoulders. He looks young, roughly your age.

“Hi, welcome to our Van Gogh exhibition,” you greet him with a grin. He bows slightly in response.

“No one’s here, so you can remove your mask if you wish. I can take your bag as well,” you offer with a smile. He nods and hands you his black duffel bag, which you quickly pass to the security guard, who places it inside a safe cabinet.

Hyunjin removes his Versace cap, running a hand through his silky black hair. There is an aura of assurance around him, as if he’s poised before a camera in a professional photoshoot. But then, a shy smile appears on his face as he finally removes his face mask, his eyes glinting beneath the golden lighting.

You feel your breath catch in your throat; for a split second, the world around you seems to still, the paintings dimming before the beautiful face in front of you.

“Right,” you clear your throat, “shall we?”

Hyunjin nods, falling easily into step with you. You pause before the first painting, ‘Woman with a Child on her Lap’, 1883.

“This is rumored to be about Sien Hoornik, who became both Vincent’s lover and model. She was a former prostitute, pregnant at the time, and had a five-year-old daughter. Vincent was determined to help her through her hardships, and they dated for a year and a half. But then, he broke it off because he said she was too far gone to be saved.”

Hyunjin nods, his eyes fixated on the painting, his head tilted slightly to the side. “The eyes are telling,” he speaks for the first time, and his voice floods your being like dewdrops reviving flowers at dawn. It is smooth and soft, the end of his words getting lost in the air and caught by your heart.

“The way the mother and daughter look at each other, I mean.” He clarifies, stealing a fleeting glance at you. “There is disdain on the mother’s face, but more toward herself, I think. Maybe because she sees her reflection in her daughter.”

Groups usually scurry past this painting, eager to see Vincent’s more renowned works. You feel your heart soften at how much he seems to be thinking about it, lost in his own world. You’re not even sure he remembers you’re there.

“Vincent was really determined to help her, although his brother Theo disapproved. His parents did too.”

“Isn’t that what love is? To hold someone’s hand even if everyone tells you to let go,” he mutters quietly, his eyes still lost in the painting. A hue of vulnerability colors his words before he clears his throat, as if unwittingly revealing his inner thoughts.

“That’s a beautiful way to view it,” you smile, and he nods, shyly biting his lower lip. For some odd reason, his timidity stirs something unfamiliarly tender within your heart.

You walk over to the next set of paintings. “When Vincent moved to Paris, you can see how his style developed. He let go of the darker tones he used in his infamous ‘The Potato Eaters’ and began using lighter colors, like here,” you explain, pointing to ‘The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry’.

“Do you think it’s because he was happier?” he suddenly asks, and you frown slightly. “Pardon?”

“The shift to lighter colors. ‘The Potato Eaters’ is so sorrowful and shrouded in darkness. ‘The Hill’ is much more colorful, lighter, you know?” His eyes glide to yours, a twinkle of curiosity glimmering in them.

“Vincent did flourish in Paris. For once, he was in the same city as his brother Theo, whom he loved dearly. But he was mainly influenced by modern art, which uses much lighter colors than his previous works. Art critics usually attribute this change in the influence of his contemporaries, such as—”

“But what do you think?” he interrupts softly, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are penetrating, and you find yourself lost in the seas of emotion they contain.

You quiet down, licking your lips tentatively. No one has ever asked for your opinion on these tours before.

“Well,” you begin slowly, “I think it’s possible. Being around his brother and other artists who embraced brighter palettes could have uplifted his spirit. But also, maybe the light colors were his way of reaching for happiness, even if he didn’t always feel it. Art often mirrors our hopes as much as our realities.”

Hyunjin listens intently, a thoughtful look on his face. “I agree,” he finally says, smiling sincerely. You don’t know why the sight of his grin renders your brain putty, like melted ice cream under the kind sunrays.

“His use of lighter colors continued when he moved to the south of France. He was delighted with the bright colors in Arles, painting orchards in blossom and workers gathering the harvest,” you explain, pointing to the respective paintings.

“That’s when he told his brother that he wanted to open a studio for fellow painters. He wrote in a letter the following: 'you always lose when you’re isolated.' He sent out many invitations, but only one painter agreed to come.”

“Paul Gauguin,” Hyunjin swiftly replies.

“Exactly. He was the first and last painter to move in with Vincent.”

“It seemed like the more he tried to escape loneliness, the more it found him,” Hyunjin muses, his eyes fixed on ‘Portrait of Gauguin’ by Vincent. The bright colors he asked you about earlier make you wonder if, beneath the spotlight, Hyunjin too feels lonely.

“Sometimes loneliness becomes a friend. You have to make room for it to allow other things to come in,” you say softly.

“It’s sad how nothing good came out of that roommate situation, though” he frowns, and you nod in agreement.

“Paul and Vincent were very different. They had a lot of eclectic views that often led to disagreements. I assume you know their most prominent one.”

“Yes, when Vincent cut off his ear.”

“Correct, he then wrapped it in newspaper and presented it to a prostitute in the nearby red-light district.”

“A prostitute…” Hyunjin muses, his thumb swiping slightly across his lower lip. “It seems like phantoms of his first love found him again. Even in his most disoriented state, he somehow remembered her.”

“You speak of love beautifully,” you suddenly say, before biting your tongue harshly, instantly regretting your words. But Hyunjin’s eyes seem to soften as he gazes at you, the warm light dancing across his pupils.

“It is a beautiful feeling.”

“Only to those who have beautiful souls,” you speak earnestly, and your words seem to morph into brushstrokes, painting the gallery in hues of red. Intimate, soft, too intimate all of the sudden.

“Vincent’s mental health rapidly declined, and he put himself back into the mental asylum,” you quickly clear your throat, though you can still feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you, not the painting. “Still, that’s when he created some of his most famous artworks, like ‘The Starry Night’. He was inspired by the view from the asylum’s window. It’s dominated by vivid yellow and blue, and the colors and paint seem to describe a world outside the artwork itself.”

“It’s breathtaking,” Hyunjin marvels, lost in the painting, leaning in until his nose almost brushes the canvas.

You suppress a giggle, but your laughter fades as you take in the mole right by his jaw, then the one by his neck. The delicateness of his face, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his lashes.

He’s beautiful. The painting could seep him in and he’d fit right in with the silver stars. Outshining them too, surely.

“I really liked the tour,” he smiles, nearly two hours of lazy strolls later. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you grin back, grabbing his outstretched hand. His fingers wrap around yours slowly, deliberately, as if on a mission to ignite your nerve endings. To set your soul ablaze with his palm alone.

His hand holds yours for a few seconds longer than necessary. Your blush mirrors his when he finally lets go.

He quickly bows again, grabbing his bag from his manager, who was waiting by the door. He almost bumps into the handle on his way out, and you let out an endeared chuckle, your eyes lingering on his figure until he disappears into his black van.

You think you'll never see him again, two lines crossing serendipitously at one point, never to cross paths once more. The thought sends a pang of sorrow latching onto your heart, before you quickly brush it away.

But then you do see him again, the very following night, at that.

It is near nine p.m. when Martin exclaims suddenly, “Mr. Hwang!” and you freeze in your place, book guide in hand.

It has been exactly twenty-four hours since you last saw Hyunjin, but when his voice softly echoes through the art gallery, it feels like a lifelong ache finally soothed.

“Please, call me Hyunjin,” he says, shaking Martin’s hand, though his eyes quickly find yours. They stay on you, unmoving yet tender, like a cotton blanket draped over your being.

“How was the tour with Miss Yn?”

“Ah—“ his gaze finally drifts away from yours. “Yes, it was really nice. That's why I came again,” he explains, a touch sheepishly, and your quizzical eyes meet Martin’s.

“Hyunjin booked another private tour. He specifically requested you to be his guide,” Martin explains, and your eyes widen in shock. You don’t have time to reply because your manager quickly scurries away. “I’ll leave you two then. Have fun!”

You wait until Martin disappears into his office before turning to Hyunjin, who avoids your gaze, one hand deep in his pocket, moving side to side. You remain silent for a few moments, simply admiring the side of his face. You’ve always had a deep appreciation for art running through your veins, after all.

“Hi,” he finally says, his eyes quickly meeting yours. You can’t stop the smile that floods your face, coating every nook and cranny of your features.

“You came back,” you say with a breathy giggle.

“Mm,” he instantly grins. “I don’t know when I’ll be back in New York, so I wanted to truly memorize the art here.”

“When are you going home?” you ask as you take his bag again, your eyes taking in his outfit—a green cap this time, a knit vest over a white shirt, and a silver teddy bear necklace nestled perfectly against it. Pretty.

“Tomorrow. We had a tour stop here, and we’ll go back to Seoul now.”

“And you’ll be spending your final night in the city here?” you chuckle slightly, and he shrugs as if it’s the most obvious decision he ever had to make.

“Why not? I think it’s beautiful here.” though his eyes never move to look onto the paintings, gliding across your face instead.

“And I forgot to take pictures yesterday,” he quickly adds, pointing to the camera in his hands.

“I’ll help you then,” you offer, and he smiles so brightly that it renders you speechless, suddenly wondering if the first person who ever drew a portrait had a similar thought—that they saw a smile so beautiful they just needed to immortalize it.

Hyunjin is at ease before the camera. You can tell by the way he almost pretends the device isn’t there, his eyes fixed on the paintings, mere centimeters away from the canvas. He’s whisked away into another world. You see your love for art mirrored in his soul as well.

“Do you paint, by any chance?” you ask between pictures, and he nods.

“Whenever I have free time. And you?”

“I do. I can show you later, if you’d like.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, pointing his finger at you, before looking directly into the camera this time. “I’ve been painting magnolias lately.”

“Really? Why magnolias specifically?”

“I read a poem about them. It said that when magnolias wither, they aren’t considered beautiful anymore. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t at one point. It really moved me.”

“You have to be very optimistic to view it that way,” you say as you finally hand him the camera, satisfied with your pictures. You are both standing in front of ‘Almond Blossom,’ the pastel colors drawing you in.

“Withering flowers mean that at one point they were in full bloom. Grief means that at one point you did love,” you muse. “It takes a lot of gentleness to find beauty in endings, to celebrate them as proof of what once was. Don’t you think so?”

You turn to look at him when the flash of a camera catches you off guard.

Hyunjin looks at your picture, a soft smile on his face. “You fit right in with the flowers,” he compliments, though it does not feel superfluous or bearing a hidden intent. It’s a simple observation he wished to share.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, a blush sprouting from your very veins. You quickly fix your posture, pointing to the painting. “I told you yesterday that Vincent painted this for his brother Theo, to celebrate his newborn, whom he named after Vincent.”

“Yes, I remember,” he nods, slinging the camera over his neck and taking a picture of the painting up close. “It seemed to bring Vincent a lot of solace in his final days.”

“I’ve been thinking about your question, whether Vincent was happy. I think he was hopeful more than anything. He had hoped his works would be recognized, he had hoped he wouldn’t be as lonely anymore. Sometimes hope keeps you going much more than happiness.”

“Because happiness will eventually wear off?”

“Right, it’s only natural. But hope… it’s like a flame that never goes out. It might flicker and dim, but it will still be there on your darkest nights.” You bite your lip slightly, your thumb digging into your palm.

“I hope you’ll always have hope in your life, Hyunjin. You’ve been my favorite person to talk about Vincent with,” you say sincerely, your eyes unwavering from his.

You imprint the way his gaze softens into your mind, the slight blush that powders his cheeks, the way his teeth peek behind his smile. You memorize his velvety voice in your mind, the way he accentuates certain letters and how it pulls at the strings of your heart when he says—“I’m very happy I met you, Yn.”

May is gone, and with it Hyunjin, and you think you are a fool for thinking of him as often as you do after only five hours in his presence. You don’t know why your mind is permeated with his essence. But why wouldn’t it be? is the better question. When he’s beautiful, truly, body and soul.

You feel slightly less foolish when a postcard is delivered to your exhibition on a sunny Saturday, one month later. It depicts the front entrance of the Museum of Modern Art in Seoul.

June 13.

“yn,

i saw Vincent’s works once again in this month’s exhibition. somehow they seem less beautiful without our conversations.

i hope you’re surrounded by art, too.

hyunjin.”

June 23.

“hyunjin,

i visited claude monet’s immersive exhibition, you have to visit it as well, once you’re back in new york.

i am still surrounded by art, as always. i don’t think i could ever part from it.

did you finish your magnolias? i hope you’re seeing beauty in them even after they wither.

yn.”

July 5.

“yn,

claude’s works are so different from vincent’s... don’t you think it's beautiful that they lived at the same time yet depicted their world so differently?

my magnolias are finished. i’ve been drawing scenes from your exhibition lately, the picture i took of you is particularly inspiring. i hope you don’t mind.

hyunjin.”

september 26.

“hyunjin,

leaves are falling all over new york. new beginnings are upon us. i hope this view of my window inspires you too.

i wish you happiness no matter the season.

yn.”

october 7.

“yn,

i just saw the first snow at dawn, it was such a pretty view! i’m happy i’m alive today.

i hope snow reaches you fast enough, too.

stay warm.

with love,

hyunjin.”

october 23.

“hyunjin,

i’ve always preferred spring, but snow brought me such a happy opportunity. i’m invited to an exhibition in seoul, next month!

i’ll enjoy it well and think of our conversations.

with love,

yn.”

october 5.

“yn,

the weather is beautiful in seoul lately. i’m happy you’ll be here to see it.

it is late at night, and the moon is shining brightly. i hope it’ll shine as brightly for you too, in new york.

with love,

yours.”

The click of your black heels against the marble floors echoes through the museum, a comforting sound as you stroll through the immersive Vincent exhibition; now gracing Seoul. The colors wash over you, reflecting off your skin, swirling around you until you feel as though you’re being drawn into the very heart of the paintings.

“Enjoying the art, Yn?” a voice like honey drips across your being. Your heart skips a beat, plummets to your knees and races back to its place once again. You feel an ache inside you unfold. memories of Hyunjin’s voice rewriting themselves, perfecting your recollection of his accent and the tender way in which he spoke your name.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, though you refuse to turn around and meet his eyes. Not yet. The scent of his rose perfume is enough to have your heart rattling against your ribcage— a bird wishing to escape its cage and deliver your love letter to its rightful owner.

“Isn’t it an amazing coincidence we met here? In Seoul, no less,” he says, his voice airy as he inches closer.

“I know you’re the one who invited me,” you giggle, finally turning to meet his gaze. His eyes widen slightly before morphing into crescents, as if lifted from Vincent’s Starry Night.

“How did you know? I thought I kept it a secret in our postcards,” he grins sheepishly.

“I kept pestering Mr. Martin about why the museum invited me specifically until he finally told me you were behind it.”

“Well,” he licks his lips, his eyes roaming over your face. “I admit, I missed you. I wanted to see you again. And I happen to be a major contributor to the museum.”

“Fancy,” you beam, before your grin morphs to something much softer, as you realize that you are away from your work, and that the Hyunjin of your postcards is finally before you.

“I missed you too. Show me around?”

“Am I your guide now?”

“Mm. I expect you to be an expert.”

“Oh, I am.”

Hyunjin speaks of the paintings as if it’s his first time seeing them, finding new things to admire, new details to point out to you. You find it hard to keep up, only because your eyes seem more interested in observing him. You’ll tell him later that you were right in thinking he’d make every painting more mesmerizing.

But for now, you stroll together, his hand brushing against yours every now and then. Before long, you’re far from the museum, walking into the chilly Seoul night, his jacket draped over your shoulders.

And you talk, you talk about every painting you’ve seen since his departure, the flowers you’ve picked, and the strawberry field you visited at the end of June. He shares stories of his favorite painters and his beloved dog, Kkami, whom he misses dearly. He speaks of the moon and how your postcards lessened his loneliness. You tell him you’ve kept every card by your bedside, the first and last thing you see each day.

Suddenly your pinky is entwined with his, your cheeks ache from how much you’ve spoken and laughed, your heart lighter than it had ever been.

“Thank you for walking me to my hotel,” you smile softly.

He nods, his thumb swiping across your palm tenderly. It’s only after a while that he speaks again. “I know you said that happiness wears off eventually. But right now, the happiness i feel… I think it will last me for the next four months, at least.”

“Just four months?” you tease, and he giggles, tipping his head back. You wish you had your paintbrushes, your camera, a simple pen, anything to commit his laugh into something tangible.

“For a long time,” he finally says, quietly, resigned. Tomorrow’s flight ticket makes your heart ache, all of the sudden.

“I… I’ll get going. Thank you for inviting me,” you smile, dropping his hand. You know it’ll hurt the more you hold it, the easier it’d be for you to remember the softness of his hand.

So you walk back, you’re near the hotel door, a hand suddenly wraps around your wrist, the security guards both discreetly look away.

“Yn,” Hyunjin turns you around, his eyes are as wide as the full moon hanging close to earth, listening in to your conversation.

“You didn’t- you didn’t show me your paintings.” he says a bit too quickly, desperately.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“Back in New York, you promised to show me your paintings. You didn’t.”

“You remember?”

Hyunjin's chest heaves in response, his warm palms cradle your cheeks, his eyes speak of a yearning you haven’t thought existed. When his lips crash upon yours, fervently, passionately, like the collision of all stars in Starry Night, you have your answer.

He remembered. He remembered as much as you.

Epilogue— seven months later.

“Now… next question,” Hyunjin grins as he takes out a folded paper from a glass jar, five sets of camera’s all pointed at him in the shooting set of Elle Korea.

“If you could feel only one emotion for the rest of your life, what would you choose?”

Hyunjin puts the paper down, adjusts the sleeves of his Versace blue silk shirt. He doesn’t need to think too much to answer— he already has his reply.

“Someone told me, a long time ago, that hope keeps you going longer than happiness. Because happiness wears off eventually. But hope doesn’t. hope is like a flickering flame, it surges and it dims, but it doesn’t go out, so I choose hope.” he smiles suddenly, eyes looking into those of the staff behind the camera.

“That got deep all of the sudden, right? Done worry, Stay, I have hope, happiness and love, all at once.”

He chuckles quietly, picking up the last piece of paper.

“Finally… who’s your favorite painter? Ah, easy, it’s Vincent Van Gogh.”

“What's your favorite painting by him?” the shooting director asks behind the camera, his eyes fixate on the lens. He knows his love will be watching.

“A woman with a child on her lap. It’s not very known, but… if you look into it closely, beautiful things might come into your life and change it forever.”

from left to right, Woman with a Child on her Lap, 1883 — Portrait of Gauguin, 1888— The Potato Eaters, 1885—The Hill of Montmartre with Stone Quarry, 1886— Almond Blossom, 1890— The Starry Night, 1889.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin imagines

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hyunjinsjeans · 5 months ago

Text

He Knows (Hyunjin ver.)

Chan ver. | Lee Know ver. | Changbin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: You have been meaning to tell your husband you want to have a baby, but since you have had issues with your periods he is wary of your health. The right time comes when you are with him during a schedule.

Type: Fluff 🧸, 👍 SFW, female reader 💃

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and periods/period issues.

Word count: 3825 words (oopsie doopsie!)

AN: Sorry this is not really a blurb... I couldn’t stop writing :) so if it is longer than the previous ones… well, it is what it is. Also, FYI: I do believe I will post the full-length fic at some point (because yeah, I did write a lot this time...). No real proofreading.

You groaned from the back of the large car. An SUV, the manager had called it. The cameras were already on sight and you began feeling the burning of anxiety creeping up your legs like ants on a tree.

A hand reached out from the seat to your right, it found your knee and squeezed with the ring finger and thumb. You took in a deep breath and reached to put your hand on the extended forearm. To your left, there was a shift as the seat belt came undone.

“It’s okay, they know you already” Hyunjin tried to reassure you.

As much as he wanted you to be calm, he was struggling to keep it together himself.

“Yeah, but I’ve never walked the airport with you…” you whispered.

Han leaned over your shoulder to speak to the two of you.

“If it’s too much you could walk in the back with the staff like you usually do,” your friend offered.

Hyunjin tilted his head, his large Versace glasses already laid on top of his hair like a headband. His eyes showed little liking for the idea although the three of you knew it was the safer option, as you had done it that way several times in the past and fans seemed to take little notice of you.

“I’d rather hold your hard through it, but if you’re more comfortable with that…”

Both of your eyes slid down to your hands as his fingers came to cover your hand that was still touching his arm. You let your head hang, biting your bottom lip, you tried to think about it.

“I’d prefer to be with you,” you admitted, still deep in thought.

Han watched you two for a second and leaned back on his seat, to him it was clear what was going to happen and he did not need to intrude in your conversation any further.

To your right, Hyunjin pressed a feather-like kiss to your forehead.

“We can be the last in line then,” he offered.

After you nodded, he looked back at Han and reached out his hand to catch his attention.

“Do you think you could go before us?”

Han hummed a positive response and gave you a smile in time for the car to come to a stop. “Let’s go!” He nudged you.

The airport was crazy. An entirely new experience for you. Whatever the boys ever said about it to describe it fell short to the true madness of flashes, phones, faces, yelling and shoving that went on while you walked hand in hand with your husband. It was true that you had traveled together, but the times you had tagged along you had walked behind them and surrounded by their staff. A couple of times you even got to leave in a different car, entering the airport far behind the boys, cameras already packing up and leaving. This time you were walking in the middle of the chaos, hand held in Hyunjin’s firm grip. You squeezed his hand back and thanked him in your head for handing you the cap, face mask and big sunglasses. You were well concealed, safe from the scrutiny even if you were standing right there in front of everyone.

The walk to the gate was interesting, to say the least. Fans knew who you were, Hyunjin made little effort to hide you from them after he decided he wanted to marry you. Nobody was entirely shocked you were there, some were curious as to how your relationship was. The dynamic was foreign to his fans, never having seen you two interact for long periods of time as you let him do his thing and got cut from any content if you happened to be captured on videos or photos.

You sat together in business class, each in a little compartment of your own. A small curtain set the seats apart, though it did nothing to pull you from each other. You two still managed to watch the same movie chat while the credits rolled. Hyunjin took some time to draw in his sketchbook, in the meantime you pulled out your tablet and continued reading a manuscript for work.

“Is that one good?” Felix wondered from the seat to your left.

You made a face, unable to decide yet since you had only read a few pages. “It could be, I’m only starting it. But the writer is new so who knows.”

Felix liked to ask about the manuscripts you worked on, as an assistant editor it was your job to get the stories clean and ready for publishing. Your boss always asked you to read a story before deciding if it had potential, so you were in a constant loop of editing and reading, editing and reading.

You were each caught up in your own worlds when your alarm went off. Phone buzzing on the little table next to your seat. You shut it off and went to reach inside your carry on, quickly taking a couple of small pills from your prepackaged pill case and went to grab your water bottle ignoring the way hyunjin’s brow arched watching your actions. As far as he knew you were not on any medication and you’d taken your vitamins in the morning; so why are you taking some pills now?

A couple months ago, he had insisted on going with you to see the doctor; you had been dealing with what he referred to as “inhuman pain” during your periods for the last few months. He didn’t know how to help, so he did the only thing he could think of, which was taking you to see someone who knew what to do. Hyunjin had simply had enough of coming home to his favorite person curled in a ball of sweat under a blanket while some drama played on tv. He wasn’t even able to properly hold you because sometimes the cramps were so bad you couldn’t straighten up enough for that, so he had to curl himself around you. The pain would also take away your appetite and make you nauseous. The whole thing was a head scratcher for your husband.

A good thing was, the doctor could not find anything alarming in your ultrasound and although he laid it out clearly, he gave you two options. Hyunjin had been a little more than upset when the doctor turned to him as if it was his decision what to do with your body. He knew enough about keeping a straight face to turn the attention to you, making it clear it was your call. You could either take a stronger form of medicine, work out more and change your diet to appease your period cramps or you could go on birth control.

You two had not talked much about having kids, besides knowing and agreeing you would be fine having only one baby. Hyunjin was sure he might be tempted to have a second one, but if life was too busy he would call it a win if he managed to give his love and attention to a smaller family. He just didn’t want to bite off more than he could chew. And you were on the same page.

The doctor sensed you two needed to have a chat and gave you an appointment for the following week.

You didn’t talk about it a lot. Hyunjin told you whatever you wanted to do was okay by him, but he did remind you that the birth control route sounded a lot easier considering you already had a busy and fast paced routine.

He was clueless indeed. Even the doctor thought about it. In the meantime your husband was thinking you had a million reasons to consider the two options. And he missed the one that was actually making you doubtful.

You did not tell Hyunjin anything other than the same you told him when you first started having sex. That you didn’t want to play with your hormones and you preferred to use condoms as a way to be safe. He respected that then, same way he respected it today.

This time, though… It was a bit of a lie. You kind of hoped he would get it, of course he didn’t. You talked to your favorite confidant in Hyunjin’s group. Changbin. He heard you and knew right away that you declined the offer of birth control so that you could easily become pregnant if you and Hyunjin decided to try.

“Why didn’t he get that?” You asked Changbin and he simply shrugged, reminding you that he was a founding member of baboracha.

“I doubt he missed that on purpose,” he tried to comfort you.

So there you were, flying together to Italy. To Milan, to be precise. It was your first time there, Hyunjin was excited to bring you to his dinner with some big names from the Versace brand. He also could not wait to whip out his camera and spend film after film with you in those beautiful streets.

Landing was quiet, you all picked up your stuff and you got ready to get off the plane and run along with Hyunjin to go through customs and then have a quick walk out to the large cars waiting outside for the group.

You were at the hotel soon enough and Chan was handing out room keys. He met his girlfriend there so at least you weren’t the only girl tagging along with the boys anymore.

You had a room key each, agreeing on using mostly Hyunjin’s you put yours away in your wallet. You rode the elevator with I.N and Seungmin, Hyunjin had quickly draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you onto his side but he kept a light conversation going with his members. You laughed along and intervened to help the boys pick at Seungmin’s new hair. He looked great but he was being annoying about having to change it again for this event.

You said your goodbyes in the hallway and everyone parted to their assigned rooms. Hyunjin let you inside first and you pulled your luggage behind you with a sigh at the fresh scent of a clean room. You were exhausted after the nerves of the airport shenanigans and then the flight, and then the usual travel stress… Hyunjin had not shut the door behind him when you threw yourself face first into the bed, fluffy pillows swallowing you up.

He chuckled and it reminded you of the dooking of a ferret.

Fortunately, you landed in time for dinner so you would not have to stay awake for that much longer.

“You should have slept more on the way”, your husband commented, pushing the suitcases into the closet space.

You groaned. “Yeah yeah, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Hyunjin dropped his jacket on the armchair by the desk. “We have like 30 minutes before it’s dinner time.”

“Uhmmmm,” you flipped onto your back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. “I’ll get changed then”

Hyunjin watched you as you went for your white suitcase, you opened it and looked around for a solid minute before pulling out a yellow dress and a pair of sandals. You picked up your hair with an elastic that was on your wrist and kicked off your shoes. You grabbed your bag of toiletries and your plastic shower sandals and pointed at the bathroom.

“I’ll be quick,” you said over your shoulder and saw Hyunjin nod.

He decided to get changed too, giving up the well thought out look for a simple pair of sweatpants, sneakers and a t-shirt. He sat down in the middle of the bed with the sketch book and continued with his drawings until you came out of the bathroom. You managed to shower and dry your hair in record time. You changed right there, in the small closet space across from Hyunjin, he looked at you pulling up your pink panties and then a nude strapless bra. You then threw the yellow dress over your head with a huff before fixing your earrings and necklace, your rings shining bright on your left hand. You stepped into the selected brown sandals and turned to your husband.

He was staring.

“I’m ready, I did it.” You gave yourself a pat on the shoulder, happy to have freshened up in such a short time.

Hyunjin turned to his phone to see the time and got a text right away. It was Chan on the group chat, asking everyone to meet in the lobby in 5 minutes.

“Just in time too.” He celebrated.

Dinner was a lot of fun, while everyone was tired it was still fun to walk around the streets of Italy with your favorite people. Hyunjin was always happy to see his members take to you so well, especially the younger ones. Felix, Seungmin and I.N were fond of you like little ducklings following their mother; and you enjoyed the feeling of having younger siblings, having grown up as an only child of divorced parents… siblings were something you could only dream of before meeting Hyunjin.

On the other hand, you were also close to Changbin. The older member was protective of Hyunjin, and when you were introduced to him he could not help but see how similar the two of you were. He had also seen so much of his own sister in you he was unable to do much more than to treat you in a familiar way; which was great because you ended up moving in with the two for a while before you and Hyunjin were able to move into your own place.

So the group had a lot of fun ahead of their busy schedules for the next couple of days. Chan’s girlfriend was there too, and the boys were excited to hang out with the two of you. Unable to help themselves, would their partners have the same chemistry as they did among themselves? So far, the answer was yes. You walked back with your arm intertwined with Chan’s girlfriend’s. The two of you came from different parts of the country, both were eager to learn about the other and how you found yourselves in such a unique place. Chan’s girlfriend was slower when she spoke, more calculated; while you were all giddy and eager. A true strange pair, but you kept laughing and giggling. Turning to your partners ever so often.

“They’ll be plotting our demise soon enough,” Chan joked with Hyunjin.

“No kidding, what are they even looking at? What’s so funny?” Hyunjin had a puzzled look on his face that made the others laugh.

***

You woke up to the morning sun slipping through the curtains. It warmed up your side of the bed and left a yellow line that ran through the carpet and sheets and across your figure.

Behind you Hyunjin still slept. You could hear the soft whisper of his deep tranquil breathing. You rolled onto your other side and turned your back on both the sun and the alarm clock that would go off in a few hours. The boys didn’t have to be out until later in the afternoon so you wanted to avoid waking up your husband if he had time to sleep some more.

He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed and his lips loose - mouth open a little bit. You sighed with the soft squeeze of glee taking over your chest. Hyunjin’s chest moved up in slow time and then once his lungs had acquired enough air his chest would move down once more. You closed your eyes, focusing on how his breathing sounded. Like ocean waves crashing into the shore and being pulled back into the immense body of water.

You were beginning to feel heavy and numb when his slim fingers found your waist and traveled around it to your back, pulling you closer to his warm body that was now facing you. Hyunjin groaned in his sleep and dug his arm around you higher, until your own arm held on to his back and your cheek was pressed against his neck.

“Do you want to sleep in?” He whispered, breath hitting the top of your head with every word. “We could have room service, or go out and get a coffee..”

You took a deep breath, inhaling his strong scent. It was woody and fresh, sweet with a hint of lemon. A smell you were used to being surrounded by at home, where the pillows and the closet smelled like him even when he was away for work. You focused yourself and replied in a whisper as well, unwilling to break the morning daze using a higher volume.

“I thought you wanted to sleep in,” you nuzzled his neck, “we should get ready and go out for a bit, maybe find a café or something.”

“Mhmmm,” Hyunjin felt goosebumps form on his skin but didn’t pull away, “I’ll take a quick shower.”

Five minutes later, you two were still unable to peel yourselves off of each other, you laid on top of his body while his breathing remained even, an arm covering his eyes. He had to mentally slap himself into consciousness, opening his eyes to the beautiful cream colored details on the ceiling, turning to his side to find your eyes closed and your hair a mess behind you all over the pillow. He ran his fingers through it and pushed his head down to kiss the top of your head.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he started. “I saw you taking some pills on the plane. What… what were those?”

You opened your eyes slowly and blinked a couple of times, you rubbed your eyes with your hand and tilted your head back to look up at him.

He truly was clueless.

“I’m taking some new vitamins,” you explained, mentally bracing for the two opposite ways this conversation could go. “I spoke to the doctor a few days ago, and I was thinking…” you doubted a little.

His fingers dancing on your naked shoulder caught your attention and you consciously had to find the sound of his steady heartbeat to focus again. He granted you his patience, puffy morning eyes staying on your face while your eyes stared far into the wall.

“I was thinking we could have that baby we talked about,” you finished, at last gaze returning to look in his direction.

“… that baby we talked about,” he repeated under his breath, he did remember.

You pushed yourself up, your hand on his chest as you did so. He looked up at the ceiling now, his eyes moving from side to side as they did when he was deep in thought.

“You are taking vitamins. And you want a baby.” He said. “You want to have my baby?” His gaze suddenly fell on your face.

You nodded, your hair cascading down your back as you sat up to look at him. Your hello kitty pjs pooled around your waist, the pants’ legs bunched up at your knees. He, on the other hand, seemed to be perfect all the time, having slept in his underwear only his hair looked somewhat out of shape. Dark strands sticking out in all directions.

But to him you looked perfect too. His arms pushed him to a sitting position as well, and you stared at each other for a moment.

“Who else’s?” You slapped his knee with a giggle, “yes, Jinnie. I want to have your baby. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since we saw the doc that time.”

Thinking back, Hyunjin could see how obvious you had been. Throwing hints here and there, volunteering to hold people’s babies, babying kkami to an almost stupid degree (not that anything you did was stupid in his eyes), being so eager during sex, being so disappointed and grumpy during your periods the last three months… looking up freaking baby socks patterns for your next knitting projects…

“What if it’s painful?” Hyunjin could not help but be concerned. “You have a bad time every month, I don’t want this to cause you worse pain” he explained, reaching out to hold your hand. “And giving birth sounds terrifying!”

His dramatic side was coming out; you saw it often and you were used to it, but you were surprised to hear this from your husband. He was being honest telling you about his fears of going into something so big and important. He was not wrong about everything.

“Giving birth does sound terrifying,” you admitted. “But we’ll have a baby afterwards!” You could not help the joyful smile that took over your features. “And I’m healthy, we are safe to go.”

Hyunjin sighed and pushed his hair back. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to hold you and kiss you and have you wrapped in his love, though there was no way he could do so as freely… it was your body, your wellbeing on the line here.

He was a man, but he was no fool; you would give up your autonomy for 9 months to grow a baby - your baby inside your womb. You would not be able to live your life the way you were used to, you wouldn’t be able to travel or drink, you would have to be at the doctor’s office every other week. You would have to give up your clothes and your comfort, take time off from work and see your own body change with the miracle of life. He considered you a little crazy for wanting all of that.

At the same time he considered himself so lucky to have you want all of that with him. He saw how much you not only loved but also trusted him. You were ready to face any challenge with him, meaning you could rely on him entirely. He knew you would only ask if you were sure the two of you could handle it.

Being honest, he was a little crazy too. And he wanted the same things you wanted, it had always been that way.

“If we try,” he let his thumb run over the back of your hand, “I don’t want you to worry about it. If it takes time for it to work…”

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll be patient”

“Then I’ll be patient too.”

You jumped to sit on your ankles, “so… is that a yes?”

Your eyes were open wide like a child’s waiting for permission to go to the playground. Hyunjin tsked and looked to the side.

“Yes Y/N, I want to have a baby with you,” he leaned forward and kissed the back of your hand.

“Jinnie!” You threw yourself at your husband.

It was arms flying in the air to wrap around him, he found himself lying on the bed again with you on top of him kissing all over his face in excitement.

—-----

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