When Y/N and her husband, Wooyoung, agree to look after the Overlook Hotel through the winter months, there’s hope on the horizon for him to finish his lastest novel. But the pressure of the deadline and the isolation finally fractures his mind and all work and no play makes Wooyoung a monster.
Warnings - MDNI 18+, swearing, threatening behaviour, gore, graphic depictions of violence, main character death, psychosis, Wooyoung is NOT a nice person, smut, dubcon noncon sex (this is only okay in fictional stories but is still wrong and is NOT behaviour I condone) fear play, blood play, bondage, rough sex, possessive sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, mentions of oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, use of pet names, praise kink, degradation.
Word Count - 3.8K
[Series Masterlist]
The hotel had become cold now, not just the regular cold but that bone-chilling, icy veins and stiff joints kind of cold. It wasn’t just the weather that had done it, it was the way your husband Wooyoung started acting towards you.
When you got to the hotel around two months ago, it was a chance to really spend quality time together, completely and utterly alone. The only distraction was that you’d both come here for Wooyoung to write his next novel. Over the past decade, he’d become one of the most successful young authors in the state, heck maybe even the country. You were able to quit your job because of his success, travelling for book tours and signings together as a married couple. It was an absolute dream standing beside him and Wooyoung would proudly parade you on his arm at every event, whispering in your ear how you were the most beautiful person in the room.
Wooyoung just had a creative mind, ideas spilt out of him and utter poetry flooded the pages on the thick paper he’d use in his typewriter. For someone so young for his profession, he was extremely ‘old school.’
However, earlier this year his manager had begun to demand a new story, a follow-up to his most successful book. A thriller set in a remote part of the country and New York’s number one bestseller for a total of 12 weeks in a row. Wooyoung to put it bluntly, had finally crumbled under the pressure, ideas weren’t coming like they used to, days turned to weeks which turned to months and his manager had finally had enough.
“If I don’t have a book in my hands by Christmas, Jung! I’ll drop you from my company and no publisher will take you!” Were his exact words before Wooyoung had hung up on him in the foulest mood you’d ever seen.
You found the job in the local paper, the chance to stay at the overlook hotel in the mountains over winter break, the whole place just for you. The only catch was you just had to make sure the hotel kept running, not for guests but just till the winter snow had cleared and it was open for business, plus the payment for the job was a pretty good sum and you had begun to get conscious of your dwindling funds now that the book sales had dropped.
You mentioned it to Wooyoung, “This could be just what you need for inspiration on your next book, baby! No outside noise or pressure to earn money… great scenery! Some alone time.” You winked at him during the last sentence and he chuckled, his eyes lighting up as you sat beside him, showing him the job advert. And just like that he’d agreed, he rarely didn’t agree with you if you were honest, he’d been a very romantic husband. Date nights, gifts, holidays and extremely good sex. He was perfect.
Until that day… November 28th.
The snow had covered the grounds surrounding the hotel now. It had piled up so high you could see it tickling the outside edge of your bedroom window and you were on the fourth floor.
The backup generator had groaned into action a few days ago when the power went out but when you tried to communicate with the local station on the old radio there was no answer. Wooyoung had started ignoring you, writing all through the day into the late hours of the night and when he crawled into bed with you, you had asked him why he had been hauled up in the main hall all day. He simply answered that the idea had come for the new book, he needed to concentrate and you should stop bothering him.
This was very unlike him, his usual sunshine energy, bright smile and the man who could literally yap your ear off for hours without taking a breath was now a recluse. You tried to be forgiving and boil it down to the stress of the deadline that was held over his head and maybe to the lack of other company besides you. Maybe he’d gotten cabin fever?
You prepared him a hot chocolate, to help keep him warm and perhaps some sugar could help keep him going during the long stretches of writing. You approach the main hall, the warm mug in hand, topped with fluffy pink marshmallows. As you enter, you notice he’s not at his makeshift desk, the typewriter sits there ominously.
When you round the table you decide to take a little peek at what he’s written, surely there’d be no harm in it. He always let you read his first drafts in the past.
As your eyes focus on the paper your stomach drops.
You glance at the stack to the left of the typewriter and flick through each page. It’s written over and over, in paragraphs, sometimes as columns, sometimes with typos or strange punctuation, hundreds of pages of it. The sheer volume is horrifying.
“How do you like it?” His voice echoes in the vacant space and you jump back with a gasp.
He’s standing there, in nothing but a blank tank top and loose-fitted jeans, yet, it’s freezing. He’s holding a baseball bat that hangs lifeless but ridged by his side. You glance at it and he smiles, a sickly smirk that doesn’t reach his dark eyes.
“You-you scared me, baby,” you stutter. “I was, uh, just bringing you a hot chocolate and-“
“Snooping?” He says, taking a step forward.
“Well, y-yeah, kinda.” You try to calm your breathing. “I wanted to see how it was coming along.”
He tilts his head, and the same cold stare looks over the stacks of paper before they land back on you. “You’re shaking,” he comments, faux concern on his tongue.
“It’s cold, I-“ you say and he steps forward again. “Woo, baby, you’re scaring me.”
“Have you ever thought for a second that I might be scared?” He continues his path towards you and you mirror his steps backing up towards the staircase. “Have you ever thought for one little instant about my responsibilities? Have you ever thought for a single solitary moment about my responsibilities to my manager? To my fans? Has it ever occurred to you that I have agreed to have a whole fucking book ready to publish by Christmas? All whilst taking care of this hotel, all whilst taking care of you, of us?” His voice gets louder and louder as he speaks. The grin still on his lips, his eyes wide with anger.
The back of your foot hits the bottom step and you stumble slightly, not taking your eyes off of him. “I’m sorry I- baby- please!” A tear falls down your cheek as you climb up, but your back is to the top of the stairs, and you keep tripping over yourself as he looms towards you.
He lifts the bat and swings it violently, the end inches away from your nose, you scream, you’re sobbing now uncontrollably. “Come ‘ere. Come ‘ere baby,” he beckons you with his hand, chuckling like he’s enjoying taunting you. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt ya-“
“Stop it! Stop it, I don’t like it!” You shout back.
“-You didn’t let me finish, baby! Y/N, darling…light of my life. I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he raises the bat above his head. “I’m just gonna bash your brains in! I’m gonna bash them right the fuck in!”
You make it to the top as he swings, luckily, you’re able to dodge it again. You take off running down the hallway, the patterned carpet does nothing to soften the pounding of your heels against the floor, automatically you follow the path back to your bedroom, he’s hot on your tail the entire time, screaming and shouting at you but you can’t hear what he’s saying because your ears are ringing, your heartbeat thuds inside your chest and your breathing is wrecked through your raw sobs that burn in the back of your throat.
When you glance back, he’s no longer holding the bat, but he’s chasing you like a fucking madman, like a predator who’s not tasted meat in weeks. His eyes are glazed over in fury, he’s not Wooyoung anymore he’s just some monster.
You run into the bathroom, slamming the door on his face and locking it immediately. You tremble but you’re no longer cold, you’re boiling, the adrenaline from fear and the running has made you hot to the touch. Sweat and tears drench your face and you cry out but he bangs loudly, over and over on the door.
“Stop! Stop it!” You scream but it does nothing to stunt his relentless pursuit. You hear something like broken glass and suddenly a crash comes through the door, splintering the wood, Wooyoung swings an axe into the barrier that blocks his way to you, repeating the motion until it starts to break into the bathroom. The opening is wide enough to stick his face through, “Here’s Johnny!” He growls and you rush to the window, it’s stiff but opens on your third pull with a creak.
It’s a narrow space but you can fit through it, you know his shoulders are far too broad, so you mould your way through. Sliding down the snow, your ass is soaked from the moisture.
You think of the only place you could possibly lose him, the maze. It covers about a quarter of the grounds that surround the hotel, your only source of light is the glow of the full moon and the one flood light that stays on just outside the main entrance to the building.
You flail around, your boots not the best for trudging through the thick fluffy layers of white but you have no fucking choice. He’s going to kill you if he finds you. Your beautiful husband, your Wooyoung. The reality of the situation comes over you like a heavy weight of terror, your eyes are wide in anticipation, you’re utterly exhausted from your escape and as you make your way through the maze you remember. The snow. The fucking snow will give you away, it’ll lead a path straight to you. You pray to whatever god that will listen to you, that the snowfall is heavy enough to mask some of your footprints but as you turn into another corridor of icy bushes, he’s there.
Axe cradled in both hands, a face contorted into that of a maniac, his smirk still apparent and a full demented laugh bellows out of his lungs, the air misting from his warm breath.
You just cry, it’s all you can do. The tears freeze before they even fall and he walks towards you, he doesn’t rush this time, he knows he’s got you cornered.
“Baby,” he says, in a sickening tone.
You open your mouth to beg for your life but he just shushes you with a finger to your trembling lips.
“All that running, all that screaming… and still you look so pretty when you’re scared.” He mutters. You sob, utterly frozen from the snow but mostly because of the fear that spikes in your gut. “Shhh, shh, it’s mercy, really. Just sleep for a while.”
He whacks the handle of the axe into your head, your vision blurs quickly, your ears ring and the world fades into darkness.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
Your brain feels fuzzy and you wake from the daze Wooyoung had put you in. The room filters slowly into view as you become more lucid but when you attempt to wipe the sleepiness from your eyes, you can’t. Your wrists are tied to the headboard in your temporary bedroom, you groan, “W-what’s going on?” You shiver, your body bare, your clothes and underwear gone.
“Wakey wakey sleeping beauty,” you hear Wooyoung’s estranged voice coming from between your legs. When you glance down, you realise why your body feels so tight and sore, apart from all the running you had done hours ago, your bound wrists and your bruised forehead. Your legs were also tied spread open and Wooyoung, had three fingers buried in your wet cunt, his chin glistening in the low light from him licking your aching clit. “I’ve been prepping this pussy to take me for hours, I wanted you ready. Even when you’re out cold, your body knows who it belongs to, baby. It’s so responsive to me.”
You gasp, your eyes wide in horror. You try to pull yourself away but the rope burns against your skin that has since thawed from the frozen snow. You whimper as Wooyoung chuckles when he notices the fear returning to your gaze but then his features fall and he deadpans, his eyes in a scowl. “The more you struggle, the more those bindings will tighten. Anyway, shouldn’t you be thanking me?” He says, his tone condensing.
“You’re not well baby, I don’t know what happened but-“ You try to reason with him but he just interrupts you with a sharp slap to your pussy. “Ahhhh-“ you cry out, as tears return, wetting your lashes.
Wooyoung rises off the bed, he strips off his black tank and jeans, his body is as perfect as when you last touched him, he’s lean with honeyed skin, his dark hair frames his now barely recognisable expression. His boxers have a damp spot where his precome had leaked from the pink angry tip of his erect cock. You eye the bulge and he smirks, removing his underwear and throwing it to the floor. His cock throbs, veins running down the thick long shaft. Wooyoung starts pumping it a few times in his fist as his eyes trail down your form. He stands over you from the side of the bed, he almost looks to be in some sort of deranged trance.
You don’t speak, fearing that if you say anything he’ll kill you. You can’t run anymore and you know what’s about to happen, he’s still your husband and the love of your life, maybe giving yourself to him will snap him out of this mental breakdown he’s having?
He speaks after a moment, breaking you out of your thoughts, “All work and no play makes Woo a dull boy,” he murmurs as he climbs between your legs again, lining himself up with your needy entrance. “And now, I wanna play.” As soon as the last word leaves his lips he buries himself to the hilt, your pussy welcomes him immediately, his hours of preparation suddenly a blessing. “Uhh, fuck!” He groans. He just stares down at where he disappears inside you, thrusting with all he has, like stopping would be his ruin.
“Woo- uhh, oh my god-“ you moan, trying to pull free again but to no avail. You hiss in pain from the rope tightening and he glances up, meeting your stare, there’s sweat on his brow, his tongue swipes over his lips in an almost sickening way. It shouldn’t turn you on but it does, you still love him and want him. He’s just not himself right now, you hope this works and brings him back but he still fucks into you like you’re nothing but a doll for his free use. “Does my girl like that hmm?” He doesn’t even blink, his stare is unwavering now and locked onto you, you see your husband but it’s like a different man is inside his body.
“Y-yes,” you whimper.
He grabs your throat, using it as an anchor point while his thrusts become impossibly deeper, you arch as his cock hits your g-spot over and over, it’s so intoxicating but you can barely catch a breath because his huge hand is like a fucking vice around your neck. “Uhh, take it you fucking ungrateful bitch! Take my cock! I’m gonna bury it so deep you’ll feel me in your guts!” He growls like a man possessed, he’s scaring you again and you can taste the salt of your tears flooding into the edges of your mouth but then he licks it away. “Say thank you to Woo, thank your husband for giving you his cock.” You’ve never heard him speak in third person till today, as if he’s inside one of his own stories.
“T-thank-“ you try to speak but you just can’t, his unblinking eyes travel to your neck and he changes his grip to fist your hair, arching your neck back as he bites and nibbles at your jaw.
“I said, say thank you or I’ll pull out and split open that asshole, with no prep, just spit and your cunt juices.” He shouts against your skin, the volume causing you to jump, your pussy clenches around him when you do and he grunts.
“T-Thank you, Woo, thank you for f-fucking my pussy,” you whine.
“See that wasn’t so hard was it baby,” he pecks where he drew blood on your jaw, it paints his lips a sticky crimson and then his mouth connects to yours in a brutal kiss that you have no choice but to return, the metallic taste filling your senses. He pulls away with a gasp, his grip loosening on your hair but his hips still pound into you mercilessly. “You taste so good baby, everywhere. I could just eat you, maybe I will when I’m done dumping a load in you.”
You cry out with a scream, your throat raw. “Please- no- you’re scaring me!”
He just laughs as pussy sucks him in, “Relax pretty girl, the only thing I have a taste for now is redrum, all you should be thinking about is how good I feel inside you, tell me how much you love it, say it.”
More tears spill as you speak confused at what redrum is, “I- I love you fucking me, Wooyoung. Your cock feels s-, uhhh, so good.”
His hand leaves your hair and he grabs your jaw in a possessive grip. You feel his length twitching as his thrusts become erratic, “Fuck! You’re such a perfect toy aren’t you?” You nod, you can tell he’s close now from the sound of his laboured breathing. He continues to drive into you deeper and purposefully, chasing his high. “Come, baby, let me feel you break.”
“I can’t- I need-“ you plead and he knows exactly what you mean, he pushes himself up on his palms either side of your head then brings his long fingers to your neglected clit. He pinches it with an insane look in his eyes then rubs it in circles when you wince from the stimulation. “This what my baby needs? Don’t keep me waiting. Fucking come!” He demands, his jaw is clenched and his abs tighten from the effort of holding himself back before you finish.
Your climax hits you within a second, your pussy milking his cock for all it’s worth. “Uhh, Woo! Oh my god!” You moan while your vision blurs from pleasure and he smiles watching your hips chase his heavy thrusts. “Fuck, my wife is so beautiful when she comes for me. Now you’re gonna beg for me to breed you!” He groans. “Go on beg! Like a cock drunk slut!”
“Please Woo, come inside me. I want you to breed me,” you beg but your speech is a little slurred from your drawn-out orgasm.
“Yeah that’s it, Woo’s gonna fill you up now baby, take it, take it all! Yes, yes, yes!” He growls like an animal as his seed spills into you in thick spurts, the warmth flooding your desperate cunt. He holds himself buried deep for a moment as his cock twitches from the aftershocks of his climax. He pulls out of you, his come oozing from your spent hole. He wipes the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead and smirks at you. “You took that so well baby,” he sighs contentedly. You give him a soft smile and he kisses you and you keen inside, your heart fluttering, a mix of anxiety and love. Surely that worked, he just needed this and he’ll go back to the way he was, right?
He rises from the bed, in a fluid motion, walking towards the bathroom with no rush in his steps. When you glance into the vanity mirror you notice something red in the corner of your eye. You squint your eyes, to get a better look and that’s when you see it. Written on the half-broken bathroom door.
MURDER.
Your head spins to check the door in question and it reads— ЯƎᗡЯUM. It’s a dark crimson like he had written it in blood.
His voice echoes in your mind, the memory of what he had said whilst he fucked you into the mattress. “Relax pretty girl, the only thing I have a taste for now is redrum.”
Your blood runs colder than it did in the maze, goosebumps trail over your skin and you swallow down the bile rising in your throat.
He returns to the room, his eyes still unblinking and his dark emotionless stare meets yours. You pull against the rope but it continues to bite into your sore wrists, he leans down and retrieves the axe from the floor.
“NO! NO! WOO, STOP! STOP!” You scream but he just continues to approach you, a hideous grin on his blood-stained lips.
“God you scream so pretty,” he murmurs. He raises the axe over his head. “Now, smile for me, baby. I wanna remember you like this.”
Before you can beg anymore he brings it down, his hands don’t even tremble, his movements confident. The edge spits through your flesh and breast bone with a wet crack. Your lungs fill with blood, a sticky metallic taste gurgling in your throat and you cough it up in spatters of scarlet, painting both of your faces. Your vision goes cloudy, keeping your gaze on your husband as long as possible, trying to hold on to who he was.
As he raises the weapon back over his head he regards you one final time. “Goodnight baby.”
CRACK.
DISCLAIMER - We do not own the rights to Ateez, they are used as inspiration for fiction and the actions in the fic do not represent the idols in real life.
➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.
⚠ — Heavy infatuation, invasion of privacy, explicit sexual content.
➥ For any other person, it's a simple encounter at a park, but for Hyunjin, it's so much more than that.
*Commissioned work
The general public is familiar with the name Sam N. Galeruth as a tech giant, but they don’t know what he looks like, nor the fact that this is not his real name.
And they never will.
I cherish my privacy way too much. It’s been troublesome to keep my name detached from my face, but if there is a will, then there is indeed a way. Business basically runs itself—everything is delegated appropriately, so I don’t even have to show up in person. At this point in my life, I’m used to living as a recluse, and I don’t plan on changing that any time soon.
It’s true that money doesn’t buy happiness, but you know what it does buy? Cheap thrills.
Oh wow. Yeah I’ve found a new genre of Hyunjin & it definitely ruined me for any other type😩
@cb97percent I don’t say this often & especially tostrangers but I love you🥺 your beautiful brain at the thought of derangedjin has had me in a chokehold I did not know I wanted to be in. Thank you😭❤️❤️❤️
Aw thank you so much, I love you too <3 Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, where you'll be seeking your derangedjin fix in regular intervals 🙂↕️ It's bonkers fun though, I volunteer to be your dealer ✋
On a cold autumn night y/n gets a knock on her door from two seemingly friendly men. They’re beautiful, a little weird but trouble comes knocking when she realises their true intentions.
The rain had been picking up over the evening, the drops slamming against the double-glazed glass of your living room window. It was October; the leaves were orange, the weather was turning cold, and horror movies were on television.
Tonight was a quiet night in, if you were honest with yourself most nights were as such.
You weren’t necessarily a hermit by any means, just quieter than ‘regular folk’. You enjoyed the company of a late-night K-drama and a glass of wine. Your house was a little off the beaten track, not too far from the main town but close enough to hear the faint hum of the train running if you stood in a certain spot in the garden.
The phone signal was dreadful, but your home WiFi was top-spec; well, that’s when it worked. On nights like tonight it dropped in and out, you decided to settle into a blanket on the couch and read one of your favourite smutty novels - Little Stranger by Leigh Rivers. You had always been into dark romance, if that’s what you’d call it. Something about the chase, the obsession, the sex, it all seemed to interest you more than anything in real life. Most of your partners in the past have been on the ‘vanilla’ side of the sexual spectrum. One of them tried, he’d choke you a little now and then, maybe give you a spank or two but he was ultimately like everyone else. As soon as you alluded to your kinks they’d make some excuse to break it off.
“You’re a bit too much for me.”
“I can’t keep up with you.”
“Maybe we’re just not suited to each other.”
None of them were cruel or unkind and maybe that was the problem. You needed it, craved a man to use you in ways you’d never been touched before.
But that was just a fantasy, like your book.
Suddenly, a crashing wave of rain hit the window. The sound causing you to wince and put down the pages of your book on the coffee table. You got to your feet and gazed out of the glass, it was dark and flashes of lightning lit up the trees that surrounded the grounds. Thunder erupted, echoing throughout the house and then, like always, the power went out.
Great, again?
This was happening a lot recently in the autumn/winter months. The chill of the air began to seep through your bones now that the heating had ceased to work.
You sighed, making your way back to your couch when…
Knock knock.
You turned towards your door, a crease forming in your brow. Who the fuck?
Knock knock.
You pulled your robe tighter around yourself and approached your front door, bringing your eye to the peephole.
Two men dressed in thick jackets and dark clothing were standing on the doorstep, soaked from the relentless rainfall. One was tall, with a dirty blonde buzzcut and smears of something over his cheeks. The other was slightly shorter, with dark hair framing his pale skin and prominent jawline.
They’re beautiful.
For a moment you pause, your hand hovering over the doorknob. Two men are at your door at a scarily late hour, dressed like they’ve just killed someone and you're a woman, alone, with no reasonable defence if something were to happen.
And yet, you turn the knob and open the door anyway.
The wind whistles through your house as you do so, the crack of thunder sounds out and a bolt of lightning strikes, lighting up their features for half a second.
“Hello?” You say tentatively.
They both step forward, your porch light (the only thing in your house that ever stays on) dim but enough for you to make out their faces. They both smile warmly before the man with the dark hair puts his hand on the other’s shoulder. “Hey! We’re so sorry to inconvenience you,” his Australian accent shocking you slightly. “My boyfriend and I’s car broke down a few miles up the road.” He gestures with his other hand pointing east of your house, “Our phones are dead and we’re freezing, is there any chance we could come in and use yours?”
You stand puzzled for a moment, trying to trace their possible steps in your mind's eye. The nearest house is miles away, they’re not lying when it comes to that fact. Also… boyfriend? You can’t help but feel a little better knowing they’re together. It makes them come across as less threatening, causing your guard to fall slightly.
“We won’t be long,” the other man says through chattering teeth. “Please, it’s so cold and wet out here.” He hugs himself as the rain falls even heavier now, and your robe begins to feel a little damp.
“Uhhh-“ You’re at a loss for words. A little deterred but you feel bad for them. They seem friendly enough so against your better judgment you step aside, “Urm, sure- I, I’m sorry I’m not decent though.” You look down at your fluffy slippers and robe, and they both scoff a laugh whilst stepping into your house.
Their shadows loom over you, your eyes go wide with how they suddenly feel a little more intimidating now they’re in your space. You don’t move for a moment as the dark-haired man circles you, “Don’t worry about that, we only need to call for help then we’ll be on our way.” He says, his tone is soft but there’s something underneath his words like a secret buried.
You nod, unable to say much as you shut the front door and lead them towards your living room.
“I’m Chan,” the dark-haired man offers his hand. You place your hand in his, the grip he has on you is tight but not enough for you to notice anything odd. “This is Hyunjin,” he gestures to the taller man who politely bows, you realise he’s still shaking from the cold.
“I’m Y/N, Urm… I can put the fire on if you need to warm up?” You ask.
The two men peel off their jackets, shaking out the water. Hyunjin sweeps wet drops from his face, his gaze lands on you for a beat too long.
You clear your throat and motion awkwardly toward the couch. “You can… sit there if you like.”
“Thanks,” the Australian one says, Chan, you think he’d called himself. He wanders forward with a kind of easy charm, but his eyes are scanning, as if he’s cataloguing everything. He notices the half-finished glass of wine on the table, the book left open to its dog-eared page and his lips curve knowingly.
“Good taste,” he comments, brushing his fingers against the cover before setting it back down. “Dark romance, yeah? My boyfriend’s into that too.”
“Yeah?” you murmur, glancing at Hyunjin, who’s now prowling the room’s edges with silent curiosity. He doesn’t sit, just trails his hand across your bookshelf, fingertips leaving faint streaks in the dust. His presence presses on you heavier than Chan’s words. There’s something odd in the air now.
For a second, you try to laugh it off, your nerves swelling in your gut. “Well, I guess it beats watching the news.” You say, unsure of where to go with the conversation.
Chan grins, lowering himself onto the couch. “Depends on what you like in a story. Some people like happy endings.” He says, acting like he practically lives here with the way he makes himself comfortable.
You smile politely, shifting back toward the kitchen. “Phone’s in here, I have a landline but the power's been down so it may not work for the moment.” You explain, why didn’t you think about that before they entered?
Hyunjin finally speaks, “Landline?” He tilts his head, and his plump berry-toned lips pull into a smile. “That’s rare.” His voice lowers on the last word.
“Yeah, signal’s shit out here,” you explain, grabbing the handset and passing it toward Chan. He doesn’t even pretend to dial. His thumb hovers over the buttons and his eyes are fixed on you instead.
“You live here all alone?” he asks casually, too casually.
Something in your stomach flips and you hug your robe tighter. “Most of the time. My- Urm- my friend comes by now and then.” It’s a lie, but it falls out instinctively.
Chan only hums, exchanging the briefest glance with Hyunjin. It lasts a fraction of a second, but it unsettles you more than anything else has tonight.
You force a laugh. “So how long have you two been together?” You gesture vaguely between them, anything to change the fucking subject.
Chan leans back, a chuckle slips out as he speaks, “Together, Right-.” He looks at Hyunjin, whose sharp jaw is caught in the glow of the lightning outside.
The corner of Hyunjin’s mouth twitches as if he’s amused, “About a year now, right Jagiya?” He says, his eyes glancing between the two of you.
Chan smirks, “I think so, time flies when you’re having fun.”
They both turn to you at the same time. The silence thickens and the rain hammers harder against the windows. You haven’t even gotten around to putting on the fire and yet the room feels warmer.
You take a step back. “Anyway, once you’re warmed up I can… call a cab for you or-“
“Why would we leave?” Chan interrupts, so softly you almost miss it.
Your pulse spikes. “S-sorry?”
He tilts his head, his grin stretching wider now, losing its charm. “It’s pouring, it’s late, and you’ve been such a sweet host. It’d be rude, wouldn’t it, Hyunjin?”
Hyunjin’s eyes snap to you, his gaze sharp, unblinking, hungry.
Something primal crawls up your spine. You take another step back, your hand fumbling for the edge of the counter. “I- look, I don’t-” you’re not sure what you’re saying now, fear begins to overtake you.
Chan stands, rolling his shoulders and in that moment his gentle mask falls away completely. His voice drops low and authoritative.
“Hyunjin.” He pauses as Hyunjin looks at him. “Get her.”
Time stops for a second and then Hyunjin lunges towards you with terrifying speed, your instincts kick in, you turn, shoving past the armchair and bolting toward the hallway. For a second you think you’ve lost him, until a hand like iron clamps around your arm, wrenching you backwards.
You cry out, thrashing, your slippers skidding on the polished floor. Hyunjin’s grip is merciless and his breath is hot against your ear as he drags you against his chest.
Chan’s laugh cuts through the storm outside, deep and mocking. “Oh, darling. You really thought you could run?” He steps closer, his eyes glinting as he drinks in your panic. “Silly girl. Silly enough to open the door. Silly enough to let us in.” He taunts.
Hyunjin tightens his hold, your breath heaves against your chest and Chan’s grin darkens, “Now you’re ours.”
Hyunjin’s grip shifts, one arm holding you tightly around your waist while the other trails down your side. His fingers hook against the tie of your robe, and he tugs it just enough that the knot loosens, the fabric gaping at your collarbone.
“See that?” Chan murmurs, eyes fixed on the way the robe slips lower. “She’s already opening up for us.”
You grab at the edges, trying to pull it closed, but Hyunjin catches your wrist mid-motion. He pries your hand away with deliberate slowness, exposing the pale skin of your chest to their hungry stares.
Chan tuts softly, like you’re a child caught misbehaving. “Why hide? You didn’t hesitate to let us in. Don’t start pretending you’re shy now.” His tone is almost patronising, sending shivers down your spine.
Hyunjin lowers his head, his lips graze the curve of your shoulder, his breath fanning against your damp skin. “She’s soft,” he murmurs, tasting the salt of rain still clinging to you. His teeth scrape lightly, and you jolt, a broken sound catching in your throat.
“Listen to that,” Chan says with a low laugh, stepping behind you now. His hand settles on your other shoulder, boxing you between them. “Every sound you make just proves me right. You want this.”
“I don’t-” you stammer, another lie slipping from your mouth but all you can hear is your heart thudding through your ears.
Chan presses a finger against your lips, silencing you. “Shhh. Don’t waste lies on us, darling. We see you.” His gaze flicks down, where Hyunjin’s fingers are spreading across your waist, tugging the robe lower until it barely clings to your frame.
“Hyunjin,” Chan drawls, eyes glinting with lust and cruelty. “Tell her what you see.”
Hyunjin’s mouth hovers just over your chest, his voice rough. “I see a girl who’s shaking… not from fear but from the fact you want this.”
Your knees nearly buckle, but Hyunjin holds you upright, his body a wall behind yours. Chan chuckles, brushing your damp hair back from your face with surprising tenderness before letting his hand trail lower, deliberately grazing your collarbone. “You should’ve stayed safe with your wine and your dirty little book,” he whispers, lips dangerously close to your ear. “Instead, you let the story walk right through your front door.”
Hyunjin’s teeth catch lightly on your skin, making you gasp. Chan’s laugh is darker now, dripping with promise, “Take her to the bedroom, I’m getting bored.” He instructs Hyunjin.
You’re dragged down the hall as Hyunjin looks around the rooms, his mouth making its way back to your ear, “Which one’s yours, baby?” He asks, excitement blooming in his voice. His fingers stroke your waist gently. “Come on, tell me. If you play nice I’ll make sure he does too.” The way he says the last part makes your skin crawl, anticipation swirling in your gut.
“Second door on the left,” you say, almost defeated but you can feel Hyunjin’s arousal pushing against your ass.
Hyunjin smirks against your neck, “Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard was it?”
Fear courses through you and yet, you’re loving it. This is what you wanted wasn’t it? Your fantasy is coming true right before you. You feel your lace panties sticking to you from your slick, only a whimper leaves your lips as he continues his efforts to take you into your bedroom.
Hyunjin lays you on the bed but your attempt to rise is short-lived when he pushes you down again. “I love a girl with fight in her,” he mutters as Chan enters the room, his steps unhurried.
He pulls the rope from his pocket, the material threading through his fingers. It’s almost teasing in the way he does it. “I’m afraid they’re a little wet but you don’t mind do you darling?” He asks, rhetorically.
Hyunjin unties your robe fully now, your deep red lace bra and panties on show for them, he stifles a grunt as he grabs his own crotch, “Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy,” You see him squirming more than you, his fist grasping his length through his soaked jeans.
“Down boy,” Chan calls from the end of the bed, “We’re gonna take our time with her.” He leans over you, tying your wrists to the bedpost, he pulls on the bindings harshly and you cry out from how tightly it digs into your skin. Hyunjin starts stroking your hair, “Shh, it’s okay, it’ll start to feel nice soon.” He chuckles as Chan makes his way to your right leg.
He grips your ankle and pulls it to the back of your thigh so your leg is bent at an angle.
“Shit- please I- I can’t…” You whimper but Chan puts his hand over your mouth.
“I’ll gag you if I have to! Stop complaining, I wanna hear those pretty sounds you’re going to make for us, so don’t piss me off!” He shouts in your face, and you gasp, the tears you’ve kept in now stream down your face in horror.
This is really happening and you’re powerless to stop it though truth be told, you don’t want it to. You’ve been begging for this for so long, yes you’re scared but you’re also so fucking turned on your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Such a pretty crier,” Hyunjin says, his tongue darts out almost uncontrollably, licking your tears away whilst he runs his fingertips over your collarbone. His mouth starts moving all over your face, leaving small kisses and kitten licks in its wake. You tremble, your broken sobs the only thing grounding you in the moment.
Chan continues tying your other leg, then he pushes your thighs open. He hooks a finger into your scarlet panties and pulls them aside.
“I’m gonna eat this cunt now, until you’re nothing but a broken mess and you’re going to love it aren’t you?” He says, his breath fanning against your glistening pussy.
You nod unable to speak and then his mouth descends on you. Chan’s licks are like a man starved, he doesn’t take his time like he said he would, he eats you out like he’ll die if he doesn’t and Hyunjin, he watches from the side of you, his pupils blown wide with desire and jealousy.
You cry out, the attack on your folds and entrance making your legs close around his head but Chan just pushes them open again, holding them down with a brutal force. He hums in satisfaction and you sob louder.
“Look at you,” Hyunjin whispers in your ear. “Taking his tongue, do you like it when a stranger touches you like that you little slut?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter and Hyunjin just chuckles then his fingers start to trail gentle lines down to your breasts. The difference in their movements is maddening. As his didgets find your clothed nipples he speaks again, “Just you wait until I get my turn with that pretty pussy, I’m going to devour you.”
Chan pushes his tongue flat, pushing harder now against your clit. Your orgasm coming quicker than ever before, the filth out of their mouths bringing you to the edge and then…
Chan pulls away and you scream out, “No! No please I’m so close!”
He sits up and grabs your jaw harshly, “You come when we say! Your pleasure belongs to us.” Your tears continue to fall in frustration. “Now, say it.”
“M-my P-Pleasure belongs…” hiccup. “To you.”
“Good girl, see you do catch on quick.” He laughs.
Hyunjin’s smirk grows, “Is it my turn?” He asks, addressing Chan.
Chan only nods and moves away from between your legs, letting go of your face and you sigh in relief but it’s short-lived as Hyunjin takes his place. His eyes stay on yours as his tongue lands on your folds, “mmmm, fuck,” he groans, his voice muffled against you.
“Sweet pussy isn’t it,” Chan says, a voice like sin.
You moan and Hyunjin winks at you like he’s completely aware of how good he is at cunnilingus.
Chan starts to remove his wet clothes, they slide off him like liquid silk. It’s then that you begin to appreciate the hard lines of his body. His pale skin shines in the dim street lamp that beams through the window. He’s built. Strong arms, broad shoulders and abs that you just want to run your tongue over.
But you can’t and you don’t know what’s more infuriating. The fact that you can’t move to touch him or the fact that you can’t come without permission.
“You like what you see darling?” He asks, full well knowing the answer by the look in your eyes.
“M-mhm,” you can only hum in response as Hyunjin’s lips wrap around your clit, suckling gently enough to keep you on the edge.
Chan out of nowhere pulls a knife into your vision.
“No- please- I’ll do what you ask! Please don’t hurt me!” Your fear trembles in your gut but your pussy says the opposite as you gush arousal into Hyunjin's waiting mouth.
“Uhhh fuck yes!” Hyunjin says as he swallows the slick leaking out of your entrance.
Chan pulls the blade against your sternum, “Relax, babygirl. Shh.” He coos.
You hold your breath, the knife right against your skin now.
“Breathe baby, I just need to get this off so I can see those beautiful tits.” He sighs and with that he cuts your bra open at the front, your breasts falling freely.
“Tongue out.” He commands as Hyunjin starts pushing two fingers into your aching hole.
“Uhhh,” you moan out as you present your tongue. Chan brings the knife and pushes the blade flat against it, you’re ugly crying now but no less on the brink of an orgasm. Why are you so fucked up?
Chan spits into your open mouth and pulls the knife away just as quickly. “Swallow slut.”
You do immediately, gasping for air, your mascara now running down your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re a picture like this. Ruined for us while Hyunjin edges that sweet cunt but I think there’s something missing? Isn’t there Hyunjin?” He asks then turning to his partner whose mouth is still on you.
Hyunjin pulls away with a sinful smirk and he licks his swollen lips before he answers, “Our little toy looks hungry.” He replies.
You don’t answer, you can’t.
You lie there, helpless. Your legs and hands are going numb from the rope and your tears are blurring your vision.
Chan pulls down his boxers, the last piece of fabric left on his torso.
His cock is long, thick and curves slightly to the left. He’s incredibly hard, it looks almost painfully so, the tip is an angry red and precum has begun to descend down a prominent vein.
He fists his length a few times before straddling your shoulders, he looks down at you like you’re an object made to please him. The look alone has you moaning out as Hyunjin’s tongue circles your clit and his fingers abuse your G-spot.
“Uhh- please! Please let me come!” You cry out but Hyunjin stops and he laughs.
“Not yet baby, we’re going to take everything from you first. You’re not nearly begging enough.” He says from between your legs.
But your eyes are fixed on Chan’s feral gaze, “Tongue out.” He repeats and you do without hesitation. He pushes his cock down with his thumb and rubs it down your wet muscle, the salty taste filling your senses, then he places his nuts in your mouth. “Suck my fucking balls,” he grunts, his voice edged now, darker than before. Like your submission is fueling him.
You do as he asks, your lips wrap around them as much as possible and your tongue darts over them, your spit dripping down your already wet cheeks. Chan groans loudly, “ahh, holy shit, baby! Yeah just like that.” His hand fists into your hair as his hips jerk almost uncontrollably, you can feel his cock twitching against your face.
Hyunjin looks on from the side of the bed, you’re not sure when he started taking off his clothes but he now stands naked. He’s a lot leaner than his counterpart but no less strong in stature. He kneels onto the bed on Chan’s right side and grabs his face turning it towards him and starts kissing him messily. The lewd noises from your mouths fill the room. Hyunjin’s hand begins descending down Chan’s chest, onto his abs and lands around the base of his throbbing cock.
Chan starts panting, “Fuck Hyune,” he whispers against his lips. Hyunjin begins fisting his length slowly, his knuckles brushing your nose as he does and you hum knowing it will send vibrations through Chan’s balls.
“You know I could make him come all over your pretty face right now,” Hyunjin says with a cocky look in his eyes.
You can’t respond with your mouth full but then Hyunjin stops and pulls away from Chan.
“Uhh, you fucking tease,” Chan addresses him as he climbs off of you. You gasp out loud trying to get in oxygen, your lungs burning. The two of them take a moment to gaze over your form. Both of them circle the bed, their eyes on you like you’re their prey, their cocks twitching at the sight of you bound and wrecked.
“Had enough yet sweetheart?” Hyunjin asks.
“Please, please I need to come,” you beg.
“Hmm, I dunno,” Hyunjin taunts. “I want to fill up that pretty mouth first.”
With that he kneels next to your head and grabs your hair, bringing his leaking cock to your mouth. “Open up,” He commands.
His length slides past your lips with ease, his taste a little sweeter than Chan’s but in the moment you feel utterly used. Your pussy clenches around nothing and Chan being observant as he is, notices with a grin. “You want me inside you?” He asks.
You nod, unable to speak as Hyunjin shoves further into your mouth.
Chan climbs between your legs and rips the thin panties at the crotch. “Still soaked are we?” He says knowing you won’t answer him. He guides his member to your awaiting hole and pushes in with little resistance. “Uhh, feels like home,” he whispers as if to himself then begins driving into you deep and slow. You moan around Hyunjin’s cock and he growls, thrusting down your throat harder.
His pace is relentless, your jaw aches and your throat is sore but you swallow him down regardless. “Perfect fucking throat, perfect cock sleeve,” he yells, pulling your hair tight in his fingers.
Chan starts fucking rougher into your now quivering cunt, his fingers find your clit and he strokes it in time with his efforts.
You start screaming but it’s muffled, your tears and spit lubricating Hyunjin’s length. “Mmm- uhh, Chan I’m gonna come-“ he groans.
“I am too,” he replies. “Paint her fucking throat while I breed this pussy.”
They both fuck you to within an inch of your life, you’re not sure if you’re blacking out or ascending to heaven but it feels so fucking good. Chan’s cock starts twitching and you can’t help but orgasm as he does, you squirt around him and he laughs, “Oh fuck baby, yes! Fucking yes soak me you whore!” You feel his warmth fill you, spilling out with your juices as he pumps into you a few more times. Hyunjin’s come is next, drowning your abused throat, “Here it comes, swallow it all.”
You force it down as he pulls away, choking slightly and Hyunjin surprisingly kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue but then you feel another one against yours. Chan joins in the kiss, the three of you locked in this messy tangle of lips, tongues and bodies, where the boundaries between you blur in a whirlwind of desire. You feel a sensation of hands exploring, mouths meeting and parting and breaths mingling, it’s desperate and needy like they can’t get enough of you. It's a sensory overload, your mind goes fuzzy for a moment but they both pull away, strings of spit connecting the three of you before they land on your heaving chest.
Both of them catch their breath before Chan turns to you with a dark look in his eyes. “You came without permission didn’t you?” He says, sternly.
“I-I didn’t mean to…” You begin but he interrupts you.
“Bad girls get punished darling,” he says, a smirk on his lips.
“Please I can’t feel my legs, I-“
“She did swallow everything like a good girl,” Hyunjin says as he strokes your thigh, the sensation sending tingles up your spine. His words are soft and forgiving. “Yes, she should be punished for coming but…” a chuckle leaves his lips. “If she promises to behave from now on we should untie her.”
Chan tsks behind his teeth but then he nods, “No funny business.”
You mirror him nodding eagerly, “Please! I can’t run even if I wanted to.”
He starts loosening the knots around your ankles and Hyunjin follows suit on your wrists. When you’re free, the blood pumps into them, pins and needles forming in your muscles and you wince from the feeling, rubbing at your aching wrists.
Chan leaves the room suddenly and Hyunjin reaches out to your ankle, stretching out your leg slowly whilst gently rubbing your skin.
You glance at the door, but Hyunjin follows your gaze, “Don’t even think about it pretty, he’s just grabbing something from his coat.” He mirrors his actions on your other leg but this time he leaves small kisses dampening your plush skin. You’re not sure why but you reach out to him and he crawls over to you. “You want me, hmm?” You nod and his mouth is on your jaw, nipping and biting. Open-mouthed kisses trail down your throat and you whimper. “Needy little slut,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m gonna fuck you till you go dumb on my cock.”
He bites your bottom lip as he pushes into you again and your pussy welcomes him, he pins you down with his huge hands. You helplessly grind against him but he chuckles and shakes his head, gripping your hip tighter as Chan reenters the room.
“Is she being good?” He asks, approaching the bed.
Hyunjin presses into you deeper and holds himself there, buried to the hilt. His forehead is against yours as you sob from the weight of him inside you. “You didn’t tell me her cunt felt this fucking good, she’s still… god… still so fucking tight,” he groans.
Chan just chuckles, “Pick her up,” he says to Hyunjin, not answering him.
Hyunjin’s hands reach around your back as he leans back on his knees, he holds you against his chest, his cock pressing deeper. “Uhh, what’s?” But you can’t finish the sentence because Chan has lain down underneath you on the bed, you hear a squelching sound and then you feel it…
Two sticky fingers running over your ass hole.
“Wait! I-“ You yelp but Chan’s free hand wraps around your mouth.
“Shh, you’re going to take the punishment, you’re ours slut. You belong to us, your pleasure is ours! Have I made myself clear!” He shouts.
You cry harder, you’ve never felt so terrified and yet, once again you feel arousal dripping from you onto Hyunjin’s thick cock, he just grunts at the sensation, you can tell he’s the softer one of the two. Like he’s trying not to fuck into you so you can take Chan’s intrusion.
“Shh, just take it, baby, relax,” he whispers only loud enough for you to hear.
After what feels like ages Chan starts lubbing up his own cock, “I’m gonna ruin this little ass hole now darling, ready?” He says with malice on his tongue.
You nod against Hyunjin’s shoulder which is now wet with your tears, his hands stroke you soothingly as Chan pushes himself inside your back entrance.
It doesn’t take long before Chan has you bouncing on both of their lengths without mercy, you’re screaming in pleasure, and the stretch is unbelievable. You feel so full, so used, so ruined and they don’t stop. The two of them are thrusting into you like you’re some rag-doll in between their bodies. You’re all a tangled mess of slick, sweat and spit, their hands cling to you greedily and desperately. Mouths pressed to your throat, collarbone, chest, literally anywhere they can reach.
Chan and Hyunjin’s breaths are a mix of groans and hisses through teeth. Praises slipping out now and then but you feel so fucked out you barely register anything.
Chan’s hand reaches to your throat, his grip is harsh, “Fuck, you were made for this, made to take us both.” He says under your ear, your response is a mere whimper if anything at all.
Hyunjin starts kissing you and you feel it, the throb of his cock hitting your sweet spot again and again. You gasp pulling away from the kiss, “Please… I- I can’t take any more.”
“Come on our cocks, I want you cletching that ass so I can fill you up! Or I’ll keep fucking you until you’re screaming my name!” Chan growls.
You’re not sure who comes first but you’re all moaning, gasping and shaking from your climaxes.
The three of you stay there and you drift off. Too tired from their relentless fucking but you wake up to hearing what sounds like your own moans on the television. You stumble out of bed, barely able to walk your limbs sore and your voice cracking, “H-Hello?”
You walk around the hallway, the sound of the shower fills your ears but you continue walking to the living room.
The power’s back on and the storm outside has passed as if it were never there and on your TV had a home video of you tied to your bed swallowing Hyunjin’s cock whilst Chan fucks into you.
You gasp in horror, your hand flying to your mouth as Chan steps around the corner, a towel slung loosely around his hips, steam floating off his shoulders where the wet droplets cling to his marble skin.
“Oh, you saw our little video?” He chuckles sinisterly.
You turn to him, and a single tear falls down your cheek.
“Hyunjin’s just finishing up in the shower,” he steps towards you, his head tilted with a maniacal smile on his lips. “But first we made sure to send that to your husband, you know, the one you neglected to mention.”
Your mouth hangs open in shock, “How did you-“
“Please, the white line on your ring finger, the coats and shoes by the door belong to a man and well…” he runs his fingers through your hair teasingly. “It’s what we do.”
“What you do?” You ask, you’re trembling now and not from fear or arousal but from the fact you’ve been caught.
“Catch cheating bitches like you in the act, make them pay.” He says in a hateful tone.
Hyunjin then rounds the corner giggling like a school boy whilst running a towel through his buzzcut. “It’s such a shame, you’re such a pretty girl,” he throws the towel on the floor and brings his fingers to your jaw but you flinch away and he just smirks with a tut on his lips. “And you take dick like a pro.”
Anger boils inside you and you slap him across his stupid perfect cheek leaving a red mark. His head whips left, he rubs his clenched jaw and then he and Chan both laugh, an evil and menacing laugh, one of triumph.
Then, the three of you turn toward the front of the house as you hear a car door shut, Fuck! He’s back early.
“Well, I guess we’ll be heading out.” Chan sings as he grabs his jacket and walks towards your bedroom. Hyunjin follows suit but then turns to you, “You ever wanna beg for me again, call me. I left my number in your ‘landline’.” He says the last word sarcastically like he knew you lied about not having a mobile phone but as he disappears the front door clicks open, the sound of your desperate moans echoes throughout the house from the television and your husband steps inside.
His blonde hair is a mess, like he’s not slept and driven all night long, his freckled cheeks are littered with tears and when he looks at you with soft glassy eyes and just says that one word. It breaks you.
“Baby?”
Disclaimer - I do not own the rights to Stray kids, they are used as inspiration for fiction and the actions in the fic do not represent the idols in real life.
When a string of brutal murders rocks a quiet town, Y/N and her friends find themselves caught in a deadly game of cat and mouse. What begins as harmless flirtation, jealousy, and college drama spirals into paranoia as a masked killer seems to target her group. The body count rises, loyalty fractures and masks fall. Because in this town, everyone has something to hide and a killer is hiding in plain sight.
Warnings - MDNI 18+ swearing, angst, horror, gore, gaslighting, violence, threats on life, main character deaths, possessive behaviour, multiple kill scenes, yandere themes, love?, smut, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet-names, spit roast, threesome, oral sex (f&m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, nipple play, bondage, dumbification, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, possessive sex, unprotected sex.
A/N - This was mine and @hoes4minho’s love child, we wanted to post this on Halloween but now it's a little Christmas gift for you! Thank you so much for being patient, more from the series will be posted soon! We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it.
Word Count - 22.5K
[Series Masterlist]
Classes today had dragged more than usual, but as you approached your friends at the end of the day, your heart warmed at the sight. You reminded yourself that these were the people who kept you going when life just got too… boring.
Your boyfriend, Minho, spotted you first, a small teasing smile on his lips, the dark glint in his eyes as they trailed over your form; he already had you excited to get your hands on him again. Minho was in his regular seat, leather jacket hanging off him, at your usual hangout spot after the college day had ended.
You claimed the space next to him as he moved his arm around your waist, “Someone’s looking a bit too tasty today,” he whispers into your ear before kissing the sensitive spot underneath it.
You blush and peck his mouth, “Look who’s talking,” you reply.
“Can you two cut it out?” Jisung groans from across the table. “Some of us are trying to eat, gross.”
“Not my problem, you’re a little virgin,” Minho retorts. He doesn’t actually mean any malice behind the comment, but Jisung pretends to be offended anyway, scoffing with his hand clutching his chest.
Felix and Jeongin mutter in the corner about their last class. Jeongin was new to your friendship group, having computer engineering with Felix, the blonde deciding to invite him to lunch a few months ago, and Jeongin hadn't left his side since.
The rest of your friends consisted of Chan, the appointed leader, though no one really listened to him; he was in Minho’s year, one year above your own. You’d always had a secret crush on him, but once Minho asked you out, you tried to put those feelings aside, not that well, mind you. Minho could definitely tell; he observed people more than he spoke, and he had a sixth sense for anyone who was interested in his girl, and he also knew his best friend Chan. He could tell the feeling between you was mutual, but Minho swallowed his feelings on the matter, not wanting to push you away or break up the group because, annoyingly, he wasn't the only one who had eyes for you.
Minho was neither stupid nor blind. You were beautiful, intelligent, funny, and you weren’t easy to get. Minho had spent months finally getting you to agree to go on a date with him, finding out later that you were seeing someone else at the time, but you’d broken it off. That made him feel a little better about all his hard work, in the knowledge that it wasn’t his bad pick-up lines, it was just that you already had someone, that someone being Felix.
Minho was aware he was your first, but he simply didn’t feel threatened by him. He knew you two were just two close friends who fucked, at least until he subtly put a stop to it by pursuing you.
Hyunjin was busy with his pencil, sitting in the corner, his eyes cast down at his latest sketch, his brow furrowed in concentration, and his tongue poking out against his plush bottom lip. You both had art classes together, and truthfully, those were your favourite. Hyunjin had this quiet side to him when he was painting. He would focus entirely on what he was doing, meaning that apart from the occasional whispers between your easels that always stood next to each other, art was peaceful and warm, and your time with Hyunjin felt easy.
You leaned towards him, hoping to get his attention, “What are you working on?” you asked, in a small voice. Minho had turned away from you now, chatting with Chan, though his hand still remained on the small of your back.
Hyunjin’s eyes flick up to you, then back at his drawing, then back to you again before he realises you’re speaking to him. “Oh- Urm, not much…” he rubs the back of his neck, his ears pink. “Just a doddle really.”
“Can I see?” You flutter your lashes, the words leaving your lips sweetly, and Hyunjin feels like he could just fucking die right there. He finds you so cute when you take an interest in his artwork, but sometimes he forgets himself around you. He forgets where he is.
“It’s not finished,” he mumbles under his breath in embarrassment, the blush on his ears starting to travel up his neck.
He tilts the sketch towards you so it’s only in your line of view. You pull away from Minho, enough for him to notice, but he just side-eyes you before continuing his conversation with Chan. Hyunjin watches you intensely as you glance over the lines and shading on his paper. Your eyes glow as you do, and Hyunjin swallows loudly, nerves swimming in his gut, waiting patiently for your response. His heartbeat starts to ring in his ears.
What if you hate it? What if you're freaked out?
Luckily, his worries are suddenly stamped on when a soft grin pulls on your pretty cupid's bow. Hyunjin sighs, still waiting but relishing in the moment as your eyes finally meet his again. “Is it… Me?” Your words are hesitant, and that surprises him somewhat.
He nods, unable to speak without fumbling his words.
“It’s really- you made me look… beautiful.” You say, and Hyunjin is now even more surprised, he made you look beautiful. No, you definitely do that all by yourself. Before he can say anything, however, your boyfriend chimes in as if he’d been listening.
“You are beautiful.” his arm now drapes over your shoulder, leaning over to check out the drawing himself.
He nods approvingly, thank god, Hyunjin thinks. He knows that Minho has a possessive side, which is why Hyunjin adores his classes with you. A place you can both be you without the eyes of others burning into your backs or your boyfriend decoding every word he utters to you.
“Good work, man,” Minho says, with a side smirk.
“Thanks,” Hyunjin replies plainly before tucking the sketch away in his bag. He reminds himself not to sketch you in public again; he prefers doing it in the privacy of his own home, usually. As he zips the bag shut, a loud gasp sounds from Jisung across the table. When you all look to him, he pushes the phone on the table.
Seungmin, the number one baseball player in the whole college and straight up loveable asshole, is the first to pick it up. “Shit!” he exclaims.
Changbin snatches the phone off of him, his muscles flex as he does, Seungmin playfully biting his shoulder, but Changbin ignores him.
He glances over the screen for a moment before Felix calls to him from his spot, “Care to tell us what’s going on?” his deep voice cuts through the passing students on their way home.
Changbin huffs a sigh, then begins reading, “Local English professor found dead in home invasion. Guys, he was stabbed thirteen times.”
Jeongin gasps loudly, and fear creeps into his gaze when Changbin passes him the phone so he can read the article.
Jisung finally stops gawking, “It’s that hot English professor, Mr Thompson.”
“No more left at the school now,” you say, attempting to lighten the mood.
“So you’re into older guys now, hmm?” Minho teases, his smirk back on his face, he squeezes your shoulder, the motion familiar now that you’ve been together for so long.
You roll your eyes, teasing him back, “Don’t be jealous, baby, I just like a man who can keep up with me in class.”
You and Chan exchange a look, just long enough for Minho to notice. The others were all too engrossed in discussion about the news report to catch on. Minho’s smile fades and turns into a cold stare in Chan’s direction. Minho attempts to keep himself calm, Chan is his friend, and you’re his girlfriend, he reminds himself, but Chan notices the shift in atmosphere, almost as if he can feel the daggers Minho is throwing at him with his eyes.
He looks up from his tray, his eyes meeting Minho's intense gaze. "What's up, Minho? You look like you've seen a ghost." His voice is casual, but there's an underlying edge of defensiveness.
Minho replies, low and cocky, “Nothing, just enjoying my lunch.”
The lunch that started with a morbid joke has quickly turned into a silent battle between Minho and Chan, with you caught in the middle. You decide to defuse the dick measuring contest and change the subject.
“Sooo,” you hiss between your teeth. “What’s everyone wearing to Seungmin’s party tonight?”
“It’s a Halloween party, right? Aren’t we wearing costumes?” Hyunjin asks, fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers, a nervous habit of his.
“Nah, I just want you all to show up looking hot.” Seungmin chuckles. “I don’t need any of you ruining my game by dressing like a fairy.” His eyes glance to his freckled friend when he says it.
“Hey! I look sexy as fuck with wings. You were the one hitting on me!” Felix shouts, referring to last year's Halloween get-together at Changbin’s house. You and Minho were making out on the stairs when you saw Seungmin whispering in Felix’s ear and running his fingers over his pink glittery wings.
“My point is,” Seungmin says, ignoring the accusation. “Some of us are trying to get laid. So just look good, okay?”
Changbin laughs and high-fives him. He mutters about winning some stupid bet they have on who can take someone home first.
Hyunjin makes eye contact with you, but quickly glances away like he’s been caught. He internally scolds himself and starts picking up his bag. “I’ll see you all later.”
A string of ‘Bye’ and ‘Catch you later’ echoes from the group as you watch him walk to his black car. The others all continue to talk about the weird home invasions that have been reported in the town, but all of them agree that Mr. Thompson being found stabbed in his home is a little worrying.
You, however, zone out from the conversation and stare at where Hyunjin’s car was sitting before he drove off, ‘cigarettes after sex’ blaring from his vehicle's stereo as he turned down the street.
“You okay, baby?” Minho says, pulling you out of your trance.
“Yeah, just thinking about what I’m gonna wear tonight,” you mutter as an excuse.
He smiles, pulling you closer, his nose ghosting your throat, “You know my favourite colour on you, right?” he whispers, suggestively.
“Black,” you reply, playfully. Holding back an eye-roll at how predictable he is. His lips meet your neck as he peppers kisses over your skin, but he quickly pulls away when Jisung yells at you again.
“Get a fucking room!”
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The bass from the speakers pulses through the floor as you walk into the house, the warmth and noise of the party overwhelming you immediately. The first thing that catches your eye is Jeongin, who’s clearly had a bit too much to drink. Seungmin and Changbin are gently guiding him out; he’s stumbling and laughing, but then he sees you, and his smile grows wider.
“Oh, hey Y/N! I wish you had got here earlier we could have played seven minutes in heaven,” he winks at you and you’re almost caught off guard by his sudden confidence.
“Aww, you poor thing!” You laugh. “I dunno how Minho would feel about you trying to steal me.”
“Get in line, baby bread. Come on we’re taking you home.” Seungmin interrupts with a sigh but you know he’s only annoyed because he’s leaving his own party to look after his friend.
“No fair! I wanna stay!” Jeongin moans but he stumbles again with a hiccup.
Changbin supports his weight dragging him out with the ease of a man who spends hours in the gym. “We’ll be back in a sec,” he says to you.
“Look after my house for me will you?” Seungmin calls out as they continue to Changbin’s car.
“Will do!” You reply shutting the front door. You make your way to the kitchen, where you find Jisung nursing a soda. He grins as soon as he sees you.
“Not drinking tonight?” You ask with a confused expression.
“Nah, I gotta huge test tomorrow in media studies and I need to ace it if I wanna keep my grades up this semester,” he says shaking his head before he takes another sip. “Get a drink, let’s go and dance. That outfit is way too sexy for you to stay in the kitchen all night!”
You chuckle and before long, the two of you are dancing together in the living room, a drink or two down.
Jisung spins you around and holds your hips so you’re grinding against him, he knows what he’s doing, he knows that Minho is here somewhere though you haven’t seen him all night which is a little weird but he’s never been a huge party guy, only really arriving to hang out with you or Chan.
It’s easy and comfortable with Jisung though, his only motive is to have fun and tease Minho for not grabbing you first. You’ve dressed to turn heads tonight and as you move on the dance floor, you know you’re drawing attention but you and Jisung just continue to laugh and enjoy the moment together.
Across the room, Hyunjin can’t keep his eyes off you. He’s trying to be subtle, but Felix notices immediately. He slides up to Hyunjin, nudging him with a grin. “You’re staring at her again,” he says, teasingly.
Hyunjin flushes slightly, shaking his head. “I’m not staring. Just…she looks good tonight,” he mumbles.
Felix chuckles, his eyes follow Hyunjin’s gaze, the sway of your hips makes him lick his lips at the memory of your body beneath his. “Yeah, she does, you should see what she looks like in bed,” Felix drops the comment casually as he sips his alcohol.
“What?” Hyunjin spits, he’s no longer watching you and turns to look at Felix instead, who’s smirking over his red plastic cup.
“You didn’t know?” Felix says with a tilt of his head.
Hyunjin’s jaw tenses for a moment. He tries to brush it off, but Felix can see the flicker of jealousy in his features. “You’re just messing with me,” Hyunjin mumbles, but Felix shrugs.
“Ask her or Minho if you want to, hell, I think most of the guys knew about it, we weren’t exactly hiding it. We were each other’s firsts,” Hyunjin visually shudders when Felix says it. “We just kept hooking up but then she started seeing Minho so we called it quits,” his tone darkens slightly at the last part and Hyunjin can tell it wasn’t his idea that you stopped fucking though he can still feel the blood boiling under his skin, a flush to his face.
He swallows and turns back to watch you as you giggle innocently at something Jisung whispers in your ear. He pushes down the jealousy and heads towards the kitchen, “You want another?” He asks Felix who nods immediately, “if you wouldn’t mind mate.” Hyunjin passes Minho who’s emerged from the kitchen, dressed in his usual dark clothes and leather jacket. Minho nods at him and he returns the gesture squeezing through the bodies of people who crowd the area.
Meanwhile, you’re still dancing with Han, oblivious to the conversation across the room and the several pairs of eyes that are on you. You spin around and bump right into a large body, your face nearly hitting his muscly chest.
Chan catches you easily, his hands warm on your arms as he steadies you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Looks like you’re having a lot of fun tonight.” He gives you elevator eyes, his pupils blown out slightly. “Cute outfit.”
You laugh languidly and lean into him a little, the buzz of the party and the drinks making you bolder. “Well, you’re always there to catch me, aren’t you?” you say, pushing your luck. Chan smiles, playing along, and for a moment, you’re just hanging onto him, letting the world blur around you. “Fuck, you are trouble aren’t you,” he chuckles.
Minho watches from a shadowed corner, his gaze cool and unreadable. He doesn’t intervene, instead, he just watches as Chan eventually offers to take you upstairs to rest, stating you’ve overdone it with the drinking, you attempt to argue but his hand is already on your lower back as he leads you away.
Minho’s eyes narrow just slightly, a flicker of something darker settling in his chest. As the party hums on, he steps outside onto the back patio, the cool night air a relief against the simmering irritation he feels. He lights a cigarette, taking a slow drag as he watches the shadows stretch across the yard. A moment later, Jisung joins him, leaning against the railing and offering a nod of camaraderie.
“Needed a break from the chaos?” Jisung asks with a half-smile.
Minho exhales a stream of smoke, his eyes in a fierce scowl. “Yeah. Just needed some air.” His voice is calm, but there’s a hint of something else beneath it, a tension that Jisung doesn’t entirely miss. They chat idly for a moment, but Jisung can sense that Minho is distracted. Eventually, he decides to head back inside, leaving Minho alone with his thoughts and the ember of his cigarette.
Hyunjin and Felix are still in their corner, the conversation about you lingering between them. “What’s she like then? Hmm,” Hyunjin asks, now tipsy, nudging Felix with his elbow.
Felix scoffs, “You really wanna know?”
Hyunjin downs his drink and looks at him expectantly.
Felix tuts under his breath, “She’s subby as fuck, and…” he pauses now making eye contact with his friend. “She whimpers beautifully.”
Hyunjin’s eyes darken and he nibbles at his lower lip, like he can imagine it, “fuck,” he replies but then Jisung approaches them still sporting a soda in hand.
“Hey, what are you two conspiring about, it’s a party come and play some drinking games with me?” He whines.
“Felix was telling me how he and Y/N used to fuck-“ Hyunjin begins but Jisung quickly cuts in, “Jesus Christ! Can you not! She’s my best friend, plus are you mad! Minho is around here somewhere and if he catches you he’ll have your heads, you know how possessive he is over her!” He exclaims, glancing over his shoulder towards the back door.
“W-weren’t you the one…” Felix hiccups. “The one grinding your dick against her ass earlier.” He says pointing to the make-shift dance floor and slurring his words.
“Minho doesn’t fucking care about me, I’ve been best friends with her longer than any of you have known her, he doesn’t see me as a threat!” Jisung says hastily, his tone defensive.
“That or he knows you’re an absolute virgin!” Felix shouts.
Jisung’s eyes go wide and he scans the area luckily the crowd of voices drown out Felix’s words over the blaring music. “Shut up!” He yells but Felix laughs and starts lying sideways on the couch, his eyelids growing heavy. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, dickhead. Let’s get you home.” Jisung says with a sigh, putting his arm around the blonde.
“Want me to go with you?” Hyunjin asks, worried Jisung will struggle to hold him.
“Nah I got him, you stay and have fun,” Jisung says, to which Hyunjin just nods and replies, “See you tomorrow.”
Jisung returns the statement as a limp Felix leans against him, making their way to his car out front.
Upstairs, Chan tucks you into bed like you’re a little girl, already removing your boots from your sore feet as he explains Seungmin is staying at Changbin’s so you can stay in his bed tonight, the sheets smell of Seungmin, it’s a comforting deep spice that warms your bones. “There you go sweetheart, I’ll get you some water.” Chan rises but you grab his wrist.
“Stay with me?” You ask fluttering your lashes, he’s so handsome in the low light of the bedside lamp.
His eyes soften at your request and he sits back down beside you, moving the hairs that stick to your forehead. “Only till you fall asleep, deal?” He offers, to which you nod and as you curl up in bed with Chan stroking your hair.
Neither of you noticed Minho watching from the doorway with his fists clenched.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
Jisung plonks Felix on the bed after the fight to get him up the stairs. “Hey! Felix, I’m gonna head out, do you need anything?” Jisung asks, a little too loudly for Felix’s sensitive ears but he just mumbles a ‘no’ in response, kicking his shoes to the floor. Jisung nods though Felix’s eyes are now closing and he leaves through the front door.
Felix starts to drift off to sleep when his phone rings, startling him. He looks at the screen and the caller ID is Y/N, he answers it in a lazy tone, “Hey babe, you okay?”
“Hello Felix,” it doesn’t sound like you.
“Y/N?” He asks but the caller doesn’t answer his question.
“What’s your favourite scary movie?”
Felix pauses confused but decides to play along in his half-drunk state, he starts walking around the top floor of his house aimlessly, “Uhh, I’d say Saw 2. I don’t watch a lot of horrors to be honest.”
“So you’re into gory films, Y/N says she used to love watching them with you, she said that was her favourite thing about hanging out with you.”
“She said that, hmm? Who is this? Y/N, how are you making your voice sound like that?” Felix laughs.
“You see, I’m not Y/N,” Felix stops pacing the room then, he looks over his shoulder but sees nothing but the empty hallway. “I’ll let you find out if you play a little game with me, a little pop quiz.”
Felix looks out the front window but the trees just sway in the wind, “I’m not much of a movie guy.”
“The real question is which door did you forget to lock?”
Felix’s blood runs cold and goosebumps shift over his skin like a chilling Mexican wave. He glances down the stairs and starts to walk down them, tentatively. He keeps his tone light, “Very funny asshole! Give the phone back to Y/N.”
“She’s a little busy right now,” Felix checks both doors finding they’re both locked.
“Look I’m going to sleep, next time you wanna scare someone find an easier target.” He hangs up before waiting for an answer and trudges back into his bedroom before flopping onto the bed again.
Suddenly the closet door bursts open revealing someone in a ghost face costume, a knife held in his hands but before Felix can even scream the blade is plunged into his chest. The man in the costume leans over him as he twists the knife slowly, like he’s enjoying it. The mask is now the only thing in Felix’s blurred vision, “Are you scared now?” The voice from the phone call says in a menacing tone.
Felix tries to push him off him but he’s too weak, “F-Fuck you,” he whispers as the light leaves his eyes and he stares off to the ceiling in a cold, blank stare.
The killer pulls the blade free, wiping it onto the side of his black costume, as the crimson starts staining the sheets below. He strolls downstairs in no rush whatsoever and grabs some popcorn from the cupboard, he turns on the stove and places the popcorn on top. As he hears the small popping sounds echo in the kitchen he turns and leaves out the back door and strolls freely into the night.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The morning sun beats down on the college quad. It’s one of those lazy days between classes when everyone gathers outside. You’re sitting on Minho’s lap, his hands resting on your thighs as the two of you are locked in a heavy make-out session that earns a few glances from nearby students.
“Jesus, are you two trying to be arrested for public indecency,” Jisung groans as he drops his backpack onto the table.
You pull back, your lips swollen from the kiss, rolling your eyes. “Morning to you too, sunshine.”
“Morning? It’s nearly noon,” Jisung mutters, popping open a soda. “Some of us actually made it to class today, y’know.”
Minho smirks, his voice low against your ear. “You jealous?” He asks Jisung.
“Of what?” Jisung shoots back. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than kiss either of you. No thanks.”
Laughter bubbles up from the group. Changbin shakes his head, grinning, while Jeongin tries to hide his amusement behind his hand. You stretch, pretending not to notice Minho’s arm tightening around your waist.
“Where’s Felix?” you ask, glancing around the table.
Jisung shrugs. “Oh, he was so drunk last night, poor guy’s probably dead.”
Everyone laughs again, except Hyunjin and Minho. Their eyes meet across the table, a fleeting smirk passing between them but it’s gone before anyone can notice.
“Oh, me too,” you say, giggling. “I was fucked.”
That wipes the smirk right off their faces. For a moment, both of them freeze. Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, and Minho’s fingers go still on your leg. You don’t catch it, but Chan does.
Chan leans over from the bench beside you and pulls you gently until your head rests on his shoulder. “Well,” he says, voice warm and teasing, “you slept like a baby, didn’t you?”
You grin, letting him pat your head as he coos, “Our little angel finally got her beauty rest.”
“Gross,” Jisung complains, shoving a chip into his mouth.
Jeongin groans, “Why does all the fun stuff happen when I’m not there? I swear I miss everything.”
“Because you go home at ten like a grandma,” Seungmin says dryly, kicking Jeongin’s shoe under the table.
Changbin claps his hands suddenly, changing the subject. “Alright guys, big game tomorrow. You all coming to watch us destroy the other team?” His gaze lands on you a little longer than on anyone else.
You grin, playing with the straw in your drink. “Wouldn’t miss it.” Everyone else murmurs their agreement, and Minho nods lazily, draping an arm around your shoulder again, as if to stake a silent claim.
Soon the group starts to split up for class. You grab your bag and fall into step beside Seungmin, who’s heading in the same direction. The hallway bustles with chatter as the two of you walk through the double doors.
Seungmin glances sideways at you, his lips twitching into a playful smile. “You gonna watch me in the game tomorrow?”
You arch a brow, “Hmm… what’s in it for me?”
He leans closer, lowering his voice just enough that it feels conspiratorial. “Watch,” he says, eyes gleaming, “I’ll hit a home run just for you.”
You laugh, heat blooming in your cheeks. “We’ll see about that.”
He winks, and you both start talking about your next class together as you disappear into the hallway, completely unaware of Minho a few steps behind you. He’s silent, his eyes fixed on the back of your head. His expression gives nothing away, but the quiet intensity in his gaze says everything. He nods at Hyunjin who nods back and they filter into the corridors with everyone else.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The crowd erupts in cheers as Seungmin sprints around the bases, he reaches the last one, after hitting a home run.
Minho’s hand is in yours, and Hyunjin sits beside you, doodling the players, absentmindedly.
“Fuck yeah, that's our boy!” Jisung yells in astonishment, clutching his plastic beer cup, his smile so wide that the blue and white streaks of paint flake off his cheeks.
He and Jeongin are both chanting as Seungmin tears away from the group hug he’s engulfed in and he approaches your section in the bleachers, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on you.
You briefly recall what he said to you yesterday. “Watch,” he says, eyes gleaming, “I'll hit a home run just for you.”
When you catch his eye, he smiles widely, points directly at you and winks. Some of the crowd follow his gaze in confusion.
You just sit there stunned. You thought he was joking, but that doesn’t stop the blush from creeping up your cheeks.
Jisung and Jeongin start laughing, mocking Seungmin's celebration by winking at each other.
“I think someone's after our girl, Min,” Hyunjin mutters to Minho under his breath. But it's loud enough for you to catch and when you glance at Minho; he's oddly calm.
“In his dreams,” Minho says with a shrug of his shoulders.
You want to butt in and stand your ground, say that it was just playful but an announcement on the PA system brings your attention back to the pitch. Your eyes find Seungmin again, where Chan pulls away from a hug, patting him on the back.
“Kim Seungmin, Pitcher 08 is now being substituted for, Christopher Bahng, Pitcher 23 please approach the field.”
You were surprised by the announcement, hadn’t he just scored a home run? You pouted as he made his way off the pitch, waving to the stands as everyone cheered him off. You were hoping to see more from him, he was on top form today, you looked forward to seeing him later and congratulating him yourself.
“I'm going for a smoke and to find a bathroom”, Minho announces, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek “Be good while I'm gone, princess,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls away with a smirk. You turn your attention to the start of the next pitch as Chan walks up to bat, and Minho disappears into the crowds of people behind you.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The locker room is eerily quiet; the usual chatter of teammates has long since faded away. The decision to substitute him out stung but gave him the locker room to himself. He took his time, letting the hot water of the shower cascade over him, washing away the sweat and grime of the game. His hands were rubbing the soap in slow circles over his abs. Steam fills the room, creating a thick fog that obscures his vision slightly.
He steps out of the shower, the cool air hitting his damp skin, making him shiver. He dries off quickly.
He changes in the privacy of a stall, he can hear the distant roar of the crowd, the echo of the game still ongoing. He emerges, his clothes sticking slightly to him, and strolls towards the sinks. His reflection stares back at him in the mirror, his eyes tired but his expression determined. He runs his fingers through his wet hair, sighing deeply.
His phone rings, the sudden noise making him jump. He glances at the caller ID, not recognising the number and chooses not to answer. It was probably just another spam call or his father calling from one of his offices, asking about the game. The ringing stops and Seungmin continues to style his hair.
Suddenly, a low, modulated voice echoes through the tiled room. "Why didn't you pick up?"
Seungmin's heart leaps into his throat. He spins around, eyes scanning the room, but all he can see is the dense steam. He looks back at his reflection in the mirror and catches a figure behind him, a man dressed in long black layers of clothing and a white mask.
The man steps towards him slowly, a baseball bat with barbed wire wrapped around the end hangs from his gloved hand.
Goosebumps trail over Seungmin’s skin, "Who are you?" He stammers. He tries to keep his calm, but his heart is pounding under his Burberry t-shirt.
The masked figure laughs and he replies in the same ominous voice, "You should have picked up the phone, Seungmin. Now, it's too late."
Seungmin's instincts kick in, and he attempts to turn and run, but whoever it is, is quicker. The man swings the bat through the air, and it collides against Seungmin's side, ripping the cotton of his clothes and scraping large gashes that ooze with thick globs of scarlet.
Pain explodes through his body, and he collapses to the floor, gasping for breath. The impact was so brutal.
"Please," Seungmin pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
The killer stands over him, the bat still firm in his grasp. "Because you touched what's mine, Seungmin, and it's fucking fun," the killer responds in a surly tone, he squats over him and tilts his head. "And…Because I can."
Seungmin tries to crawl away, but his hands slip on the wet tiles.
His vision is blurred, his eyes stinging from the water vapour in the air mixing with his tears.
The ghost-faced figure brings down the bat on his leg, the sharp pain flooding his senses. Seungmin’s hands slip, and he faceplants the hard floor, his cries of agony drowned out by the roar of the crowd celebrating the team's win.
The bat comes barrelling down again and again, each strike harder than the last. Blood bursts and spatters over the locker room.
Seungmin's strength fades with each blow, his vision swimming in and out of focus. There’s blood in his eyes, and he chokes on it as it floods his mouth. He can feel the life being beaten out of him, the pain becoming a distant, numbing sensation. As his consciousness began to slip away, he heard the killer's voice one last time.
"Say goodnight, Seungmin. Say hi to Lixie for us."
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The buzz of adrenaline still courses through you when your group all meet up next to the bleachers after the game. Chan had hit another home run meaning your college’s team was third in the league. You felt immense pride for your friends, knowing how hard the guys trained for every game. Chan and Changbin had headed straight home to shower, whilst you all discussed how to celebrate.
“Baby! I can’t believe you missed Chan’s home run!” You exclaim.
“Sorry, Yeonjun and I were catching up,” Minho says, time had run away from him whilst he and his friend smoked near the bike sheds.
Hyunjin glances at you, a small smile on his lips. His hair is fluffy and covers his eyes but he runs his hand through it, another habit of his, and looks at you with a hopeful gaze. “Hey Y/N, you wanna work on that art project we have due next week?”
You nod, everything had been so crazy recently that you’d actually forgotten all about it. Thank god Hyunjin was more switched on when it came to art class. “Yes, I’m free now if you fancy coming back to mine?”
“I’d love that,” he says shyly and follows you to your car in the college parking lot.
“Hey! No fair! We were all gonna meet at Changbin’s, have a few drinks, celebrate their win.” Jeongin yells, enthusiastically. “Don’t you wanna see Seungmin?” He winks at you, imitating his glory pose again and Jisung starts laughing loudly, clapping along to Jeongin as he points randomly to the sky.
You roll your eyes at them but before you can answer Minho interrupts, “He texted earlier, said he’s got dinner with his dad.”
You frown, a little annoyed you couldn’t congratulate him yet. “Well, I gotta do this project anyway. Maybe catch you guys later?” You offer.
Minho nods, pecking you on the lips. “See you later, baby.” He mutters against your mouth.
“Ew!” Jisung and Jeongin say at the same time before hollering in laughter again and walking away. Arms around each other’s shoulders, clearly a little tipsy.
Minho heads towards his motorcycle, and you turn back to Hyunjin who’s a little flushed, fiddling with his silver rings. “Ready?” You ask.
He nods with a smile, “Let’s go. Your place or mine?” He chuckles at the suggestion.
“Mine’s fine,” you say and you both stroll to his car, chatting amongst yourselves about the game.
By the time you reach your house, the quiet between you has softened. Inside, you toss your bag aside and gesture toward the kitchen. “You want tea or coffee? I’ve got that fancy herbal stuff you pretended to like last time.”
Hyunjin grins. “Coffee’s good. The herbal thing tasted like grass.”
You laugh and hand him a mug. The small domestic moment feels unexpectedly intimate, his fingers brush yours as he takes the coffee, his smile lingering a second too long. You both set up on the bedroom floor, your papers spread out, pencils rolling toward the edge of the rug. He kneels beside you, studying your half-finished sketch. “You’re getting better with light,” he says quietly. “You used to over-shade everything.”
You glance up, surprised at how observant he is of your work. “You actually noticed that?”
He chuckles softly, “I notice a lot.”
There’s something in his tone that makes your stomach flutter. You clear your throat, pretending to focus on the page. “Okay, critic, your turn.”
He shifts closer, drawing something quick and fluid, his sleeve brushing your arm. You can smell paint and soap on him. When you lean over to watch, his pencil pauses.
“You make me nervous when you do that,” he admits, not looking up.
You turn to his profile, “Do what?”
“Watch me.” His voice is a little lower now. “It’s like you’re studying me instead of the drawing.”
You smile, coyly. “Maybe I am.”
That earns a quiet laugh from him and his cheeks flush. He keeps drawing anyway, lines flowing easily again. For a while, the only sound is the scratch of a pencil against paper and the classical music you’d put on your stereo in the background.
When you finally sit back, you realise how close you’ve drifted. Your knees are almost touching and you can tell he notices too, you catch his eyes flicker to your lips, then away.
“So…” you say softly, “do you think it’s done?”
He studies the sketch. “Almost. Just needs… something.” He hesitates, then reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “There,” he murmurs. “Now it’s perfect.”
Your pulse jumps and he clears his throat immediately, his expression flustered. “Uh, I mean, the composition. The balance looks better now.”
“Sure,” you tease lightly. “The balance.”
He laughs under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re a terrible liar.” You retort.
He grins, meeting your gaze for a heartbeat too long. His phone chimes, he glances at the screen and lifts it to read the message. Then he stands abruptly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I should go before I embarrass myself more.”
“Already too late for that,” you say, you give him a forgiving smile.
Hyunjin pauses at the door, his eyes are gentle. “Thanks for tonight. I had a really good time.”
“Me too,” you reply.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?” The way he says it is so sweet.
You nod, “You’d better.”
He lingers a second longer, then slips out into the cool night. The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence he leaves feels heavy and bright all at once, you push the light flutter you feel in your stomach down. Ignoring the way it swirls in there, you have a boyfriend but Hyunjin stays in your thoughts long after he’s left.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The hours since Hyunjin left were spent in front of the television, watching your favourite anime whilst you clean up the lines on your sketches for the art project, the subject matter being death. You and Hyunjin had decided to draw studies of a flower's life. The first being vibrant paintings covered in layers of bold colours and fluffy textures, that turned into bleak grey sketches.
Hyunjin had suggested the idea, wanting to recreate the stages of the plants wilting away to nothing but withered, decaying petals. He said he found death in nature beautiful, that it wasn’t about the end but about the rebirth. How their seeds made new flowers and their nectar a gift to the bees to make honey.
He intrigued you, his perspective on death, on art and what he found beautiful.
You slip into one of your boyfriend’s oversized t-shirts, now one of a huge collection in your spare drawer, you always found a way of stealing one every time he stayed over.
The anime, now rolling the credits, you pull out your phone to text Hyunjin, realising you hadn’t opened your messages from the group chat.
[Chan]: Hey guys, I still haven’t heard from Lix?
[Jeongin]: Me neither. Today is our usual gaming night but I texted him and it’s been left unread.
[Minho]: That’s weird.
[Chan]: @Lix325 You there bro?
He gets no response in the chat from your former lover. Worry starts to build in your gut. You know, Felix, it’s very unlikely for him not to respond to you. The blonde was chronically online, whether he was gaming or on socials. Something wasn’t right.
You type a reply.
[Y/N]: Ji, would you mind heading over to his later and checking on him? You live the closest. I would join you but I’m going to have an early night.
[Changbin]: I can pick you up after this stupid ‘celebratory’ dinner?
[Y/N]: I thought you guys were all partying at yours?
[Changbin]: That was the plan but my dad heard about the win, so I got roped into dinner with him and my sisters.
[Jisung]: Will do, Y/N. Thanks, Bin. Message me when you're on your way?
Changbin sends a thumbs-up emoji and you text Hyunjin as you had previously intended.
[Y/N]: Hey, how’s the painting coming along? Hope you got home safely?
Hyunjin replies almost immediately.
[Hyunjin]: Yeah, all good. Just finished the painting. How’s the sketch?
You smile at your phone, about to respond, when the cool night air begins to seep into the room as your window slowly creaks open, the sound barely audible but enough to stir a sense of unease within you. When you glance over from the foot of your bed, a shadowy figure climbs in.
Minho's silhouette emerges from the darkness, his gaze locked onto you as he slides next to you on the bed, his body pressing against yours. He wraps his arms around you and pecks you on your lips.
"You okay, baby?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.
Immediately, your body relaxes, melting into his embrace.
“All good,” you say, though you still have residual worry about Felix. “What are you doing here?” You tilt your head teasingly. You know he read your message in the chat about getting an early night and here he is climbing into your window as he does most evenings but the look in his eyes tells you he’s not here to talk.
“I-” He pauses, when his gaze drops to your phone. An almost cruel smirk twitches in the corners of his mouth. “What are you and Hyunjin talking about?”
You follow his line of sight, locking the screen and looking up at him with those cute doe eyes that Minho loves so much. He mentally restrains himself from kissing the look off your perfect face, he’ll get to that after he teases you a little.
“Oh, just the art project,” you sigh, sweetly. You dip your head, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt.
“Mmhmm,” he hums. His thumb glides over your jaw and he tilts your chin up to meet his heavy gaze. “You know, I think Hyunjin’s got a little soft spot for you, baby.”
You scoff a laugh, “No, he doesn’t.”
Minho grunts in response and rises from the bed. He removes his jacket and navy shirt as if he’s staying for the night.
You take the hint, crawling into the covers and setting your phone on charge on the bedside table. As you move, Minho eyes the way his t-shirt skims your thighs, then rides up, your red lace panties on show for his greedy stare.
Red. Another one of his favourite colours on you.
He soon joins you in bed, “What would you do if he were into you?” he whispers, intentionally.
You fear his jealous streak is about to rear its ugly head, “I don’t know, baby.” You’re not sure what comes over you but you decide to tease him back. “I’m wondering what you would do?”
Minho's hands begin to roam, his touch is possessive and demanding. He trails kisses down your neck, his lips soft but insistent, his teeth nipping at your skin. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, his body tense with need. His hand glides under your lace panties, fingers expertly finding the spot that makes you gasp into the pillow below.
“I guess you’d just have to find out, wouldn’t you?” He speaks through gritted teeth, his voice raw.
"Minho," you gasp.
He doesn’t respond with words, instead choosing to show you his intent with his actions. He rolls you onto your back, his body covering yours as he continues his ministrations.
"You drive me crazy," he groans. "I can't get enough of you. You're mine, do you understand?"
His possessive tone sends shivers down your spine, and you arch into his touch, craving him. Minho knows that your body always responds to him instantly. He obliges, his fingers move faster, his thumb circles your clit in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. You could feel your arousal leak from your core, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more friction.
"Please, Minho," you beg.
He just smirks against your skin, "Please what?" he taunts, his fingers slow down, in a light motion. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," you whisper, your body writhing beneath him. "I want you inside me."
He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends another wave of desire crashing through you. "Not yet, baby," he says, his fingers picking up speed again. "I want to hear you scream my name first."
“Oh fuck!” you’re whimpering now. Your orgasm creeping up on you but his unrelenting fingers don’t stop and push you over the edge, coming over his digits with a force that makes you bite into his shoulder so hard, you draw blood. The iron taste floods your mouth but he grabs you by the throat and pulls you into a brutal kiss.
The taste of his blood on your tongue seems to drive him wild. He flips you over, prodding your entrance with his hard length. He enters you roughly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his thrusts deep and bruising.
You moan, the sensation of being filled by him overwhelming. He sets a punishing pace, his body slapping against yours, the sound echoing in the silent room.
"Fuck, you feel so good," his voice rumbles from his chest, trying to restrain himself. "So tight, so wet. You're perfect, aren’t you?"
You can feel another orgasm building, your body tenses as he hits that spot deep inside you. When you come again, you convulse around him, his name on your lips, your cunt clenching around his cock.
He follows soon after as you milk him for all he’s worth. “Uhh, fuck- baby, take it all!” He shudders as his hot seed fills you and drips out, your tight pussy unable to contain it.
Minho is far from done with you. He manhandles you onto your back, his body firm over you. He enters you slowly this time, his thrusts are lazy and deep. He leans down and kisses you, it’s all encompassing. You can taste your own desire on his lips as well as his blood, causing your arousal to slick his cock, mixing with his earlier release.
He breaks the kiss and his lips start trailing down your neck. He nibbles at your throat, where he knows you’re most sensitive. “You're mine," he growls. "Say it."
"I'm yours," you pant, your voice barely recognisable. "Always."
He smirks at your admission, his pace unrelenting. You can feel the pleasure building in your lower abdomen. He ruts into you now and his fingers return to your clit, chasing your climax.
"Come for me, baby," he commands. "I want to feel you come around me again."
“Oh my god, Minho! Fuck!” You whimper, flooding his cock.
“There’s my girl, fuck! Good girl! Gonna fill you up again, baby, mark what’s mine,” he grunts, pushing your thighs further apart. He paints your insides in thick spurts again with a deep groan, then pumps into you slowly a couple more times before pulling his softening cock out of your spent cunt.
You feel exhaustion over take you almost immediately, you both collapse into the bed together as he peppers kisses over your face. Your body is slick with sweat, you take a deep breath, calming yourself down.
Minho rolls off you, walks into your en-suite and returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you with gentle hands. You start to drift off to sleep, his heartbeat a calming presence and his arm a comforting weight around your waist.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
You were ripped from your sleep with a loud banging on your door. Minho was up and pulling on his lounge pants before you could even wipe the sleepiness from your eyes. The harsh shoves against wood sounded until Minho had made it to the front door, where Chan, Jisung and Changbin all stood with grimace expressions.
Minho steps back into your room, “Cover yourself, baby. The boys are coming up.” He says as he throws you his t-shirt.
You slide it on, the cotton cool against your skin, your nipples pebble under the shirt and as the three of them follow Minho into the room, you catch Chan glancing at your breasts before he corrects himself. It sends a small thrill through you and you hope that Minho doesn’t catch the slight flush on your cheeks.
From how stern his face is, you worry he did, but then he speaks, “We need to tell you something, baby.”
Your eyes dance over the four of them and the men who just entered, their eyes are bloodshot but soft and Jisung has dried tears on his puffy cheeks.
You perch on the end of your bed, your shirt riding up and stretching over your naked, plush thighs and you catch Chan’s eyes wandering over you again.
“Felix is dead,” Jisung whimpers.
For a moment, the world ceases to exist. The ground under you swallows you whole. The words hit you like you’ve been dunked in ice water. Felix, your best friend, your childhood sweetheart, is gone. The room spins around you, the walls closing in as the reality of it sinks in. You feel a wave of nausea, your stomach churning as you struggle to comprehend the news.
Your voice shakes, "How could this happen?"
Changbin looks at you, his eyes filled with a grief that mirrors your own. "It's fucked up, he-" his voice is hoarse. "He set fire to the house, he left popcorn on the stove."
Chan speaks up, “At least that's what all the police are saying for now. I don't fucking know, man, with all these people being killed in their homes lately… I just- FUCK!” Chan shouts before huffing a defeated sigh.
“I think we should go tell the others, in person. I don’t want them to find out on the news or in a fucking group text.” Changbin suggests.
“Good idea, man,” Chan mumbles, his fists still clenched.
“Let’s go,” Minho says, shoving on his sweater and jacket. “Who’s place first?”
You grab some clothes and head into your ensuite to change privately and by the time you return, the guys have already figured out a plan.
You climb onto the back of Minho’s Motorcycle, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“We are going to Hyunjin’s first,” He shouts but it's muffled due to you both wearing helmets.
As you all arrive, the others in Changbin’s Chevy Tahoe, rain starts to fall. You pull the helmet off your head and shake out your hair. Minho glances at you and pecks your forehead.
“I forgot how sexy you look when you do that,” he mutters under his breath, for your ears only.
You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, still thinking about the loss of Felix. You approach the door first, Chan stepping next to you.
“I can tell him,” he says, his eyes still sorrowful.
You pause, “I’d like to, I need to say it out loud, otherwise… It doesn’t feel real.”
Chan nods and leaves you to it, the other men all waiting by the car, the rain now dampening your lashes. You knock tentatively and wait a couple of beats before Hyunjin pulls open his door.
He’s wearing a black tank and dark shorts, rubbing his eyes when he sees you, surely you’re not real right now, he thinks to himself. He’s tired and half asleep, but when he glances over your shoulder and notices his group of friends leaning against Changbin’s car, his brow furrows.
“Hey,” he says shyly. “What’s going on?”
That conversation was the beginning of the worst night of your life.
After breaking the news to the others - Jeongin taking it the hardest, you all made your way in various vehicles to Seungmin’s house, he was the last to know.
Jeongin was still sniffling in the back of Hyunjin’s car with Jisung’s arm around his trembling shoulders.
You and Minho stay by his motorbike, his arm around your waist. He kisses the corner of your mouth once you remove your helmet.
You and your friends watch as Chan decides to let Seungmin in on what’s happened, his knuckles strike the door in a familiar rhythm. Rain taps against the hood of his jacket, beading and rolling down the tense line of his shoulders.
You all wait, nervously.
A few moments pass, and no one comes to the door, Chan turns back to the group.
“The lights are off,” Changbin calls to him. “Maybe he went to a party or-”
“And not invite us?” Minho scoffs. “Unlikely.”
“He didn’t reply in the group chat earlier either,” Chan mutters as if to himself. He tries again, louder this time, “SEUNGMIN, open up man! Please!” His voice cracks on the last word, his palm against the door frame curls into a fist, and he walks back to the car.
“Where the hell is he?” You say, your eyes on your boyfriend.
“I dunno, baby,” Minho says, his brows furrowed.
“Where did you guys last see him?” Hyunjin asks, leaning out of his car window, running his fingers through his dark hair.
“The game?” Chan says, glancing back and forth between the group.
“Shall we start there? Maybe he stayed for some reason?” Changbin says. “You know what he gets like after we win? He practices over and over on the pitch.”
“It’s nearly 2am,” you mumble in disbelief and holding back a yawn. “You think he’s still there?”
Chan nods, “The boys and I found him asleep in the locker room the next day, before. The guy doesn’t know when to quit.”
Changbin scoffs, “There’s a reason he’s the number 1 baseball player in the college.”
“We start there, then?” Chan suggests.
You all pile into your respective vehicles, you and Minho, taking off on his motorcycle.
Unsurprisingly, you both get there first, but as the others start parking up, you lose your patience. You’ve had what feels like the longest day ever. The game, the project with Hyunjin, the sex, then the news about Felix. Driving around town to tell everyone. It’s been emotionally and physically taxing on you.
You decide enough is enough and run into the college hallway, leading to the main gym's locker rooms.
Minho and Chan race after you, their voices a distant echo as you rush into the male locker room.
When you enter, your eyes find trails of dark, viscous crimson that pool into the wet room's drains. You tread lightly, your heart beginning to pump loudly in your ears, no longer able to hear the guys calling after you.
The metallic stench fills the air, and you can almost taste it, your face pulled into a grimace as you attempt not to swallow.
When you turn around the corner, you freeze as your gaze lands on a sight that will haunt you for the rest of your life.
Seungmin's body was a tangle of long limbs on the tiled floor, his hands wrapped in bloodied barbed wire, his head and torso, a grotesque sight, beaten and bruised and his eye wide and unseeing. Well, that was the one you could make out. The other was caved in along with half his head. A huge dent there and around his neck and shoulder.
Coagulated blood had gathered around deep gashes, over what used to be beautiful, smooth marble-like skin.
Your eyes search the area for a moment as if shielding yourself from the trauma.
That’s when you see it, the word "mine" smeared in what you assume to be his blood across the wall, the letters thin from the fingers that had written it, and it drips down the blue and white striped paint below.
You feel a scream rising in your throat, but Minho's arm wraps around you, pulling you back and tearing you away from the scene.
"Don't look," he says, pained, as if he’s struggling with his own reaction. "You don't need to see him like that."
Chan's face is grey as he steps in, his sunken eyes from lack of sleep now filled with horror. "Get her out of here, Minho,” he says, his voice is quiet as if he’s gone into shock.
“Chan, I-” Minho starts in a small voice, as he holds your face buried in his chest.
“I SAID GET HER OUT OF HERE!” Chan screams.
Minho nods, he can’t blame him for the sudden outburst, his arm tightens around you as he leads you away from the locker room.
Everything feels like it's moving slowly and too fast at the same time. You collapse once you make it into the hallway. Changbin and Hyunjin stand there puzzled, but Minho holds you and speaks to them as your cries fill the school corridors.
You don’t make out what he says or how he explains what you’ve just seen to them. All you remember is the distant wail of sirens and Minho muttering in your ear as he stroked your back in soothing circles.
"You're safe, I won't let anything happen to you."
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The next evening, you receive an email from the college principal announcing a vigil would be held for Seungmin, Felix and Mr Thompson.
You attend, feeling like a ghost yourself.
You decide to sit with Jeongin, who’d also taken the news very hard, and you feel a comfort in knowing you weren't the only one crying yourself to sleep last night.
Chan did what he usually does when something bad happens, he went into hardcore leader mode. Hyunjin shut himself off a little, not speaking again, just nodding or shaking his head when you had calmed down. Changbin sat with his family but sent a nod and a small smile in your direction and Minho was being Minho; he wasn’t really a crier. He dealt with his emotions quite coldly, and although you understood that was just the way he was, you needed comfort in that moment.
So sitting between Jisung and Jeongin just felt right, your shared grief a bond that others maybe couldn’t revel in as much as the three of you, you all being the more sensitive souls in the group.
Jeongin lays his arm around your waist, letting you cry onto him as you all listen to a speech from the college principal.
Hyunjin watches from a distance, his jealousy evident in the tense set of his shoulders and the tight clench of his jaw. Minho lays a hand on his knee, calming him. They share a look of understanding before turning their attention back to you, ensuring you’re safe.
The seven of you gathered after the vigil, all a mix of glum faces, but you were just happy that you had the guys there. All supporting each other even in the silent, unsaid moments.
“I still don’t understand,” Chan mutters.
“I know, man,” Minho says, placing a palm on Chan’s broad shoulder.
“No, I mean the writing on the wall,” he replies, a frown on his features. “‘Mine?’ What does that even mean?”
“I can’t think about this right now,” Jeongin says, slight irritation in his voice. “I have a fucking debate class coming up in politics, and I need to ace it.”
“Hey, dude. I know, I’m sorry.” Chan says, holding his hands up in defeat. “We can talk about it another time, yeah?”
Jeongin nods, you can see the guilt in his eyes for snapping at him, but no one comments on it, letting him walk away from the group.
“Just give him some time,” Minho says under his breath to the leader.
Chan lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah, I think we all need some sleep.”
“I gotta thing I need to go to anyway,” Changbin mutters. “See you all later.”
You all bid each other farewell.
Minho kisses your forehead when he drops you off at home and offers to stay with you. You tell him you need a few hours alone, but he’s welcome to join you later if he’s still up.
You wanted to cry and scream and punch a fucking wall. Just do something to quell the ache in your heart, and you didn’t feel like having him see that visceral side of you.
You also felt a little scared to be on your own overnight, and he could tell, being the observant boyfriend he was. So he agreed to come by later, and you headed into your house, offering a small wave over your shoulder as more tears began to fall silently down your cheeks.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The heaviness from the vigil weighed down on Jeongin, two of his friends were dead and the unease that had crept into his bones whilst he comforted Y/N was still very much there as he made his way to the local library.
Jeongin liked to study when he needed to take his mind off of things, he found it was the best way to keep himself focused and busy. It was that, or rotting in his room playing a video game or watching random crap on Netflix. He also wanted to make his favourite Hyung proud, Felix, though Jeongin had only just gotten close with the friendship group, being a year younger than all of them, he hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know everyone on a one-to-one level but Felix had been kind to him, welcomed him into the fold, took him to the baseball games and the frat parties. Felix also wanted Jeongin to do well in college. He had told him he was smart and if he put his all into it maybe one day he would be the town mayor or maybe a deputy on the police force. Felix could be an asshole sometimes but he was gentle and a loyal friend. Now he was gone, along with Seungmin and Jeongin had no idea how to deal with the grief he felt. As well as the fact that he had started to harbour feelings for Y/N and she was spoken for by someone who was not only older and stronger than him but also his friend.
So the library it is, he’ll study as long as it’s open to get rid of this grief/guilt combo that was eating away at his insides. He preferred the library at night, it's quiet and not full of annoying loud students using the best tables and gossiping about the latest hookups at parties.
When he steps in and greets the assistant, an older lady named Ruth, she always has a frilly dress on and smells like lavender.
“Another late one, Mr Yang?” Ruth asks.
“You know it, I’ll be in the back section by politics, let me know when you’re shutting up,” Jeongin says as he makes his way through the history section.
“Will do, and Jeongin?” Ruth calls out as he was about to tread deeper into the library. He peers back around the shelf and meets her gaze. “I’m truly sorry about your friends,” she offers in a low but steady tone.
Jeongin nods with a small smile and continues his path into the Politics section of the room, he couldn’t quite get the words out to thank her for the gesture, he swallows down the lump in his throat along with his need to cry. He’d done enough of that, now was the time to get it together for his future.
He looks over section H-J in search of a piece of text he needs for a debate coming up in class. He finds it, takes a seat by the long window and settles in, notebook and pen at the ready. He jots down several quotes he needs for his argument on the matter. When he hears footsteps down the walkway between History and Politics, he glances over but sees nothing.
He shrugs it off and continues reading when, suddenly, a hand grabs his shoulder. He flinches, a small gasp leaving his lips before his eyes meet Ruth’s. She stands over him with an apologetic expression, “Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just headed to the closet down the hall. I forgot to get some paperwork. You’ll be okay by yourself?” She asks, tentatively.
Jeongin lets out a breath he’d been holding and smiles back at her, “Sure, and it’s okay, I’m just a little jumpy recently.”
Ruth pats his shoulder and says, “I’ll be right back.”
Jeongin winces, “Hey Ruth, please don’t say that. That’s what the victim says in horror movies right before they get chopped up!”
His voice is frantic but Ruth just waves him off with a small chuckle, “Oh, you kids and your silly imaginations! I’ll be fine.” That’s when she leaves, still giggling to herself. Jeongin hears the door open and clatter shut but only a few moments later, he hears it again.
He rounds the bookcases muttering as he goes, “That was qui-,” he stops in his tracks as his eyes land on a hooded figure entering the library, as it turns toward him he sees a flush of the white of the mask before Jeongin is jumping into the history section, his hand pushed onto his mouth so his small whimpers can’t be heard.
He creeps down the aisle of the bookshelves, his footsteps are wide and slow, he puts his feet down onto the carpet in light movements and that’s when he looks through a gap in the shelves. The ghost face killer is on the other side, skulking around in search of him. Jeongin ducks down and crawls away to the other side of the library into the art section. Tears start to spill down his cheeks but he keeps his small sniffles to a minimum. He just needs to reach the door or see Ruth returning so he can call out to her for help. He presses his back against the L-N section and tries to slow his breathing.
Ring Ring.
“Uhh-“ he groans. It’s Y/N calling, maybe he can get her to call the police? He quickly answers, “Y/N? I’m in-“
“Oh, I know exactly where you are, Jeongin,”
“Y/N?” Jeongin asks, his voice shaky. “You sound weird?”
“Well, you see, I’m not Y/N,” the ominous voice says with a teasing lift in his tone.
“Who is this?” Jeongin starts to really cry now, all tears and snot. He trembles against the shelves.
“Do you like scary movies, Jeongin?”
“I guess I-“ he starts to answer but then he sniffs and whimpers down the phone and the voice on the other side chuckles.
“Have you ever seen the movie IT?” The voice asks.
“The o-old one or t-the new one?” Jeongin stutters.
Suddenly, the ghost-face killer comes into view, at the end of the art aisle, his knife is high in the air, Jeongin doesn’t know for sure but those long dark holes for eyes feel like they’re burning into his skull.
Jeongin rises to his feet, pocketing his phone and starts running. He stumbles against shelves, knocking over books as he goes but he doesn’t care about that, his eyes are on the door, his route clear as he makes his way closer, weaving through the classics and literature section.
The hope of escape quickly fades when the ghost face killer steps into view, blocking the doorway, his head tilted in a way that sends shivers down Jeongin’s spine. Jeongin sobs, stepping back and turning around when the ghost-face mask is there again behind him, he glances back and forth between the bodies. Suddenly aware that there are two killers after him. He moves sideways, attempting to back against a bookcase, the dread and realisation flooding his pupils, causing the clocked figures to both laugh in that evil tone from the voice modulators.
The two killers take slow, deliberate steps toward him, hemming him in, the shelf digs into his back but he continues to push himself further to get away. Cornering himself in the process.
Jeongin’s chest heaves, “Wh-what do you want from me?” he stammers.
The Ghost-face nearest the door tilts his head again. “You’re smart, Jeongin. You like to figure things out, don’t you?”
The second one, voice distorted and almost playful, circles around him. “So figure this out… why do the side characters always die first?”
“I’m not- I didn’t do anything!” Jeongin pleads, eyes darting between them.
“You sure about that?” the first Ghost-face says, pacing closer. “You’re sure you didn’t touch what’s ours?”
“What the fuck do you mean?” He begs.
“You’ve got quite cosy with Y/N recently, haven’t you?” the second voice purrs.
Jeongin backs into the shelves even further, books tumbling to the floor. “Please, I don’t even know who you are-”
“Sure you do,” the one by the door says menacingly. “We sit with you every day.” The words hit him like a slap. He shakes his head violently. “Minho?”
The two killers exchange a look, an almost affectionate glance between predators. The closer one leans in, the mask inches from Jeongin’s face. “Sure, they always blame the love interest, don’t you think that’s a little too obvious, Jeongin? You shouldn’t have come here alone, kid. Didn’t you learn anything from your horror marathons with Jisung?”
Jeongin’s voice breaks, “Please, I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
A low chuckle from the modulator fills the silence. “You’re right about one thing,” the voice says. “You won’t.”
For a heartbeat, everything stops. The sound of the clock ticking above the exit and the hum of the fluorescent lights.
Jeongin whispers, “Why Felix? Why him?”
“Because everyone’s a suspect… but not everyone’s innocent.” He barely has time to breathe before they both move, they’re on either side of him now. The tears drip off of Jeongin’s chin and he cries loudly. “Don’t worry, we’ll give Y/N a shoulder to cry on.”
The first blade cuts into his stomach like a bolt of lightning, his abdominal muscles clench and the pain throbs up his spine, a gasp leaves his mouth before another slice glides over his chest. Jeongin screams but it’s cut short by the second killer raising the knife and shoving it down his throat, and blood oozes from his mouth and pools onto the carpet below. A course gargling sound leaves Jeongin’s lips and the killer twists the blade inside before pulling it free and letting the young man’s lifeless body drop like a bag of bones onto the library floor.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
After making it home, you realised how much crying you had done. The world didn’t feel the same anymore without Felix and Seungmin. You almost felt like a piece of you had disappeared, been ripped out without your permission. Felix was your first love and though it fizzled out when Minho came into your life, he was still precious to you and so was Seungmin. He had a grounding presence to him, he always found a way of calming you down when you were overthinking or making you laugh when you needed humour to quell the darkness inside you.
But now, you’d never have that again. Only the fond memories were there now.
You got under your duvet and cuddled up in a fetal position. Sleep took over you quickly, but then you woke to a sudden hand over your mouth, your eyes blowing wide open to find Minho standing over you, like an ominous shadow. You slap his hand away and whisper-yell at him, “What the fuck, Minho! You scared me!”
He chuckles, perching himself next to you on the bed with that cocky smirk of his. “I’m sorry, baby, I just didn’t want you to scream. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says, his tone softening.
“It’s okay, I’m just, well- you know. The vigil was a lot. Like, accepting that they’re not coming back,” you say, fidgeting with the zip on his leather jacket.
He nods, stroking a stray hair from your face. “I know, baby. It’s gonna be hard for a bit but we all have each other. You have me, you know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” He says, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze.
You drop the zipper on the jacket and lean forward to kiss him. He hums approvingly when your lips touch his and then he darts his tongue out to deepen the kiss. When you oblige, he groans, sliding his wet muscle over yours. His hand reaches for the nape of your neck, holding you in place to continue to take what he wants, you feel his breathing change. He’s horny and if you’re being honest with yourself, you are too.
You pull away from the kiss and whisper against his lips, “Please Minho, I wanna turn my brain off, will you do that for me?”
A smile grows on his mouth, his eyes darken and he huffs out a contented sigh before he replies, “I actually wanted to surprise you, baby, I have a treat for you.” Your eyes light up with excitement, “but…” he pauses, concern falling on your features. “I wanna tie you up and blindfold you, I just want you to feel first, can you do that for me?” His tone is sweet but the look on his face is one of desire.
“Yeah- okay… I-“ You stutter, caught off guard by his instructions. You and Minho had played before with some light bondage but it had been a while ago, suddenly, you felt a little tentative.
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“You know I do,” you say with a smile and his face changes, as if the words felt like more than they were.
He kisses you again, “Lay back, baby.” He commands and you do so without a second thought. Minho rises from the bed and shrugs off his jacket, he looks through his backpack and brings over some soft rope and a silk blindfold. Goosebumps begin to appear on your skin and he notices, he runs his thumb over your cheek, “What’s the safe word baby?”
“Red,” you whisper, your gaze on his.
“Good girl, now strip for me.” He says, lust on his tongue. You begin to undress, he helps you out of your clothes but tells you to stop when you’re left in your underwear. You internally praise yourself for wearing matching black lingerie, a colour he loves on you. “Always so perfect.” He mutters as he ties your wrists to the headboard. “Ready?” He asks when he pulls the blindfold over your eyes, the silk grounding you.
You nod, “Yeah, I’m kinda nervous.”
He chuckles, “That’s okay, I’m here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I just hope you like your surprise.”
His hands fall away from you and you feel him rise from the bed, his footsteps falling away from where you lie, you hear him stumbling by the window and muttering under his breath. You frown, tilting your head to try to listen but you can’t hear what he’s saying. As he approaches and sits beside you on the bed you feel it dip again at the end of the bed. “Minho?” You say, a little trepidation in your tone.
“You trust me, right baby?” He asks again.
“Y-yes.”
“Good girl, spread your legs for me.” You do what he asks but you’re trembling now. You can feel another presence in the room but you don’t argue. You’re already wet from anticipation. Whoever is at the end of the bed lets out a strangled groan but you still can’t quite tell who it is. Suddenly, their large hands press your thighs further apart, cold from their rings bite into your skin and their mouth runs along your inner leg, lightly gliding down causing you to shiver.
Their lips connect in a wet open-mouthed kiss that continues to where you need it most. “Uhh,” you gasp. “Please…”
“Begging already, such a greedy girl.” Minho taunts.
The person between your legs brings their fingers to your panties, soft and warm, swiping over your pussy lips, your wetness soaking the fabric. “Feel good, baby?” Minho whispers in your ear.
“Y-yes,” you whimper.
Then, a they lick a long stripe up the lace covering your core, you gasp loudly and the man grunts, a low, “Fuck.” You still can’t pinpoint who they are, you know the voice but it’s not enough sound to distinguish between your group of friends. At this point, you’d be happy whoever it is because they’re teasing you so deliberately and deliciously that your cunt clenches when he pulls your panties to the side and his breath hits your core. “Beautiful,” they mutter under their breath.
“She is isn’t she, have a taste. I know you want to.” Minho says cockily. “You want it too don’t you baby?” He turns to you, his lips ghosting your ear. You nod enthusiastically but that’s not enough for Minho. “Use your words, ask the man nicely.”
“Please, I-I need it,” you beg and Minho chuckles darkly.
“You heard her, eat that sweet pussy. I want to see how long she can take it.” Minho commands.
The man wastes no time planting his lips against your labia, he spreads your slick and his saliva around, teasing your entrance and clit, just before the tip of his tongue reaches the edge of your hole, he reverses the motion. It’s maddening and so fucking good at the same time, his lips are plump and juicy against your aching cunt and it quivers beneath him, he hums approvingly, the vibrations sending shockwaves to your clit. You start panting and then you feel Minho’s hands caress the swell of your breasts, he pulls them free from your bra, your nipples hardening from the cool air. His fingers begin to flick and pinch them and you arch from the bed, “uhh, fuck, don’t stop!” You cry out.
Minho laughs, his tongue darts out, wetting one of the buds before he gives the same treatment to the other, “Don’t worry baby, if you take what we give you, we won’t stop.”
The man between your legs finally presses his mouth to your clit, you whimper and he sucks, pleasure building in your lower abdomen.
“Finger her, I wanna see her soak your face.” Minho commands and the man obliges, his middle finger breaches your entrance and he curls it in a ‘come here’ motion, hitting your sweet spot immediately. The texture of his rings adds to the already blinding pleasure he gives you.
“Ohhh-“ you moan.
“He’s a natural isn’t he baby? You gonna come?” Minho asks. You nod and the man sucks harder, pushing into you deeper, more digits adding to his efforts, you shake violently and Minho plants his mouth onto your nipple, flicking the other to help bring you over the edge.
You come with a loud cry, tears staining the blindfold as you flood the man’s greedy mouth, he continues to finger you through it, slurping your essence from you. You spasm from the aftershocks and Minho kisses you. “Good girl, you wanna see him? Wanna see who’s made you come?”
“Yes, please- please Minho!” You beg and he pecks your cheeks before slipping the blindfold off of you. Your vision is blurred from your tears and the low light blinds you momentarily but when your eyes adjust you peer down and see Hyunjin licking your slick from his fingers, he hums and finally speaks, “You taste even better than what I imagined,” he smirks.
“Hyunjin!?” You gasp.
He rises to his knees and leans over you, “Hey sweetheart,” he glances at Minho. “Can I kiss her?”
“By all means, what’s mine is yours now,” Minho says.
You don’t have time to ask why he’s said that because Hyunjin’s thumb caresses your lower lip and he leans in to kiss you, almost hesitantly. “Gonna reward me for eating your pussy good?” He whispers against your lips and your gaze meets his, his pupils are blown out and full of need. You initiate the kiss and he follows your lead, your tongue swipes over his lips and they taste like you but also like him, sweet and warm, the two of you deepen the kiss, folding as one like you’ve always fit together and it feels… right? Like you were meant for both of them, you moan into his mouth and he swallows it down. You feel him shiver over you, the kiss affecting him as much as it does you. When he pulls away he looks into your eyes like you’ve hung the moon and mutters, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks flush from his admission but Minho abruptly speaks, breaking both of you from your trance. “Be a good boy and fuck her, I wanna see her broken under you.”
Hyunjin nods, looking at him and then looks back at you, “Is that okay?”
You open your mouth to say that yes it very much is but Minho speaks for you, his tone unwavering. “She wants us to make decisions for her tonight,” he grabs a fist of Hyunjin’s dark hair, and pulls on it. Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he whimpers. “You stuff that greedy cunt full when I tell you to! If she’s not going dumb on your cock in a matter of minutes I won’t let either of you come and I’ll fuck her myself, am I clear?”
You can’t help but find the dynamic between them incredibly arousing and from the look of the huge bulge in Hyunjin’s pants you can tell he feels the same. “Yes sir,” Hyunjin’s Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows down another groan.
Minho shoves him backwards and Hyunjin rushes to remove his clothes. Minho turns back to you, his jaw tight but a smile forms on his beautiful mouth. “Sorry about that baby.” He coos whilst stroking your hair. Minho has been dominant to you before but never have you seen him like that, it sends a rush of fear that quickly changes to desire when he pecks you on the cheek and unties you. “I want you to enjoy it, baby, touch him if you like.”
You kiss him as a silent thank you. When Hyunjin climbs over you again, bracing himself on his hands either side of your head, his hips nestled between your legs, Minho reaches down and spreads your labia open with his fingers in a V shape. Hyunjin glances down at your glistening folds and groans, “Uhh, such a pretty pussy, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
“Please Hyunjin,” you beg and Minho smirks, “Don’t keep our baby waiting.”
Hyunjin wraps his hand around the base of his length and pumps it a few times for good measure then runs it along your slick, lubricating it up for insertion. He brings his thick cock to your entrance and pushes in an inch, you both moan and Minho takes his hand away. “There you go, there’s a good girl,” he whispers lowly. He kisses your jaw as Hyunjin continues to bury himself into you, and once he’s all the way in his cock twitches inside you. “Fuck! She feels incredible, so fucking tight, so fucking perfect.”
Minho scoffs a laugh, “Oh, I know. Don’t be shy, she likes it rough.”
Hyunjin thrusts in a few times at a comfortable pace before he pushes your thighs to your chest in a mating press and somehow he feels even bigger and deeper than before. You grab his cheeks and pull him down to kiss you and he gratefully returns it, grinding his hips in a lazy motion at first, your fingers running through his dark waves but his speed picks up all of a sudden and he pumps into you like a dog in heat, the stretch burns but then quickly turns into intense pleasure, you moan, gasp and fucking cry but he doesn’t stop. His balls slapping against your asshole, his hips kissing yours and the small trimmed hairs that decorate the base of his cock tickle your clit over and over with no let up. You had no idea he had stamina like this but you thank whatever gods made him as your mind starts going blank, eyes rolling into the back of your head and dribble falling out the corners of your mouth, completely cock drunk.
Minho notices and pats Hyunjin on the shoulder, “There she is, that’s the brain-dead doll I wanted to see. Good boy.”
“She takes it so fucking good,” Hyunjin growls through his heavy breaths. Your pussy starts spasming around his length, “You gonna come sweetheart, fuck, you’re choking my cock!”
Hyunjin leans back slightly and starts running his finger over your clit, you whine at the extra stimulation, your hole quivers around him and in seconds you're flooding his member and balls.
“Shit! She fucking squirted! Good boy Hyunjin, fuck! I need to fuck her mouth, flip her over for me.” Minho groans.
You’re barely able to form a single thought as Hyunjin pulls out, kisses you and turns you onto your hands and knees.
“Ass up,” he spanks you, jolting you out of your daze. You arch for him as Minho releases his cock and it bobs in the air before he presses it to your lips.
“You’ve got several little fuck holes for a reason baby, suck it while he ruins that cunt.”
You don’t argue because you’re in a state of bliss, your pussy welcomes Hyunjin back in as Minho slides into your mouth, you moan around him and he strokes your cheek.
“There’s my girl, always so eager to take me.”
He starts deeply thrusting into you almost immediately, spit and precum drips down your chin, tears fall from your eyes but you try to keep your gaze on his, knowing how much he loves it.
“Perfect fucking throat, that’s it, keep your eyes on me. Don’t you worry baby. Hyunjin and I are gonna train that little asshole of yours to take us too, so we can have you whenever we feel like it and you’ll let us won’t you,” He grunts.
You try to nod as an answer but he grabs your hair and fucks your mouth faster, you gag around him but he doesn’t stop his relentless pace.
Hyunjin’s cock starts twitching inside you and you can tell he’s close so you try to buck your hips back onto him but Minho holds you in place, the two of them using you for their pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm forming in your gut when Hyunjin moans out, “Fuck, she’s gonna squirt on my cock again. M’gonna fucking come.”
Minho answers him instantly, “Fill her up, she loves it.”
“Oh my god! Take my load sweetheart! Yes, yes, yes!” Hyunjin yells. Minho's permission pushing him over the edge, he shoves his cock in deep, flooding your insides which triggers your own orgasm, you moan around Minho’s length and he groans, his tone rough.
“Oh baby, I’m coming! Uhh-“ He paints your throat white in thick spurts. “You swallow all of it, don’t you dare fucking waste a drop!”
You do as he asks but he holds you to the hilt for a moment feeling your throat tighten around him before he pulls out with a gasp on his lips.
You drop to the bed, coughing a little, once he loses his grip on you. He walks to your bathroom retrieving a warm cloth while Hyunjin pulls you into his arms singing praises and pecking your forehead.
Minho returns but Hyunjin offers to clean you, actively insisting on it. Minho doesn’t argue and takes his place by your side.
“So did you like your surprise?” He asks, gently, his dominant side falling away to show you love again.
You smile dreamily and nod, “Thank you.”
He kisses you, “You gonna thank Hyunjin too? He made you squirt all over him baby.”
“Thank you Hyunjin,” you mumble, a flush on your dewy cheeks.
Hyunjin’s grin grows as he finishes wiping you down, he crawls over you again and strokes your cheek, “Anytime, sweetheart.”
The three of you cuddle into bed, and they lie on either side of you, your limbs all tangled under the sheets. As you all drift to sleep, you’re not sure if this means that now they’re both your boyfriends or Hyunjin will just join you from time to time. You hope he is, but you’re so tired you can’t form the words to ask.
The three of you jolt awake after an hour or so when your phone rings, you reach over to it, groaning loudly and pick it up without thinking. “Hello?”
“Y/N, sorry, it’s urgent. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Chan says, there’s a hint of sorrow in his tone but you sit up, suddenly awake when he says the word ‘urgent’.
“What is it? What’s happened?” You ask and Hyunjin and Minho both look panicked.
“Are you alone?” He says.
“No, Minho and Hyunjin are with me,” you say. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“I’m glad you’re safe with them. I tried to call them but they didn’t answer. I got so worried, but… god, Y/N. I don’t know how to tell you this…” he stalls.
“Please, Chan! Tell me!” You beg, Minho takes your hand, his face full of concern.
“It’s Jeongin,” you hear Chan’s voice break, a quiet sob spills from his lips. “He’s dead, he was found in the library by Ruth, she’d been locked in the closet and the security guards found her, they were wondering why the lights were still on.” He pauses, catching his breath, he sniffles and continues, “He was murdered, Y/N, some sick fuck stabbed him!” His tone turns angry and you gasp, dropping the phone onto your lap.
You begin to cry and Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, “Hey, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” He offers.
Minho grabs the phone, “Hey man, sorry Y/N she’s, well… she’s in shock.”
“I get it, I wanted to tell you first but I know it’s late and-“ he starts but Minho interrupts gently. “Oh don’t worry about that, I get it.”
“Everyone’s gonna meet up, I think we’re being targeted. Three of us Minho! Three! Don’t let her leave your fucking sight until we’ve all discussed how to move forward.” Chan says his voice is raw with fury.
“I got it, text me a time and place. The three of us will come together.” Minho replies.
“-and Minho,” Chan mutters.
“Yeah?”
“Look after her,” The words make Minho feel a little on edge, who is he to tell him how to look after his girlfriend? But he swallows it down, it’s not the time to be possessive.
“I will, see you soon.” He hangs up the phone and joins the hug with you and Hyunjin.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
The dimly lit living room is filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the old house. Chan stands at the front of the room, his face full of concern. The group is gathered, as you look around, everyone's eyes are on each other in a blend of fear and confusion.
"Alright, listen up, Jeongin is dead,“ his voice breaking slightly as he says his name. ”The sick fuck that's hunting us for sport got to him last night," Chan continues after a deep sigh leaves his lips. His voice is steady despite the turmoil inside him. "We've got a serious problem. Our group is clearly being targeted, and we need to figure out who's next. I think we're being set up, and quite frankly, I don't trust anyone right now."
Unease crackles through the room; you feel it in the way Minho’s fingers tighten on your thigh and his body freezes, just for an instant.
Jisung sits in the corner and shifts uncomfortably. His eyes dart around, avoiding Chan's gaze but Chan turns to him regardless.
“You were with Hyunjin and Felix at the party, right? After you and Y/N were dancing?" His voice is sharp, almost accusatory.
“Yeah- But-” Jisung stutters, then Hyunjin interrupts him.
“I stayed after they left,” he mumbles, sitting on the sofa with Changbin, for once he’s too distracted to have a sketchbook in his hands.
Jisung's face flushes. "I told you, I don't know! I took him home, he was out of it, and I dropped him in his bed. I didn't see him after that. I swear," he says, speaking quickly like he has word vomit.
“You were the last person to see him alive AND you were at his house, where he died. Dude, you gotta admit it’s not looking good for you.” Minho says, his tone stern.
You almost feel bad for Jisung as you lean closer to your boyfriend, hooking your arm around his as if it would protect you in the moment but then Jisung starts rambling, “Look, there’s a pattern here… if we figure that out then maybe it will lead us to the killer?”
“What do you mean, pattern?” Changbin asks, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“It’s like a horror movie, right? We’re all being picked off one by one.” He says as if it’s the most obvious explanation. The rest of you exchange awkward looks before he speaks again. “Okay, hear me out. First, we’re all at a party, everyone knows the killer is always killing the cute blonde who sleeps around first, I mean, usually it’s some dumb girl with big tits but Felix still fits the profile.”
“Right…?” Chan replies, drawing out the word.
“Seungmin’s next, the jock. They are also a target for the killer, he wants to get rid of someone who’s a physical threat to him.” Jisung continues.
“Hang on, you keep saying he? Y/N could be the killer?” Changbin interjects.
You gasp, completely blind sided by the notion. “What the fuck, Bin!”
“She was with Hyunjin and I when Jeongin was killed,” Minho says in your defence.
“-and me, you know, you night of the party,” Chan says, though it comes out small, his tone guilty, worried about how his words come across. “We fell asleep in Seungmin’s bed after she drank too much.”
Minho’s frown doesn’t leave his face, though he doesn’t comment. He knows what he’s saying is true and he hates the thought of someone accusing you of such things.
“I think it’s a guy because they killed Seungmin, one of the top athletes in our school. No offence Y/N… but I doubt you could overpower him.” Jisung cuts in.
“None taken, because I didn’t murder him!” You say, with a raised voice, side eyeing Changbin who sinks further into the couch. “You would throw my name in though, if you were the killer,” you continue.
Hyunjin scoffs a laugh but backs down when Changbin sends him daggers.
“You know who could overpower him? Binnie!” You say, exasperated, looking at the others for back up. “He’s all muscle, he could easily take down another guy? Maybe you were jealous of Seungmin’s success, you were the number 2 player in the school before he died.”
Chan puts his hand up, “He was until I scored the last home run.”
“Don’t remind me,” Changbin says, rolling his eyes. “You forgot something, though? I was with Seungmin the night Felix died. On the pitch, when Seungmin was murdered and I was having dinner with Anna, when Jeongin was killed.” He counts down the fallen members of your group with his fingers as he explains.
“No way you’re seeing Anna? from bio?” Chan smirks.
“It’s nothing serious,” Changbin says, trying to contain a cheeky smile.
“My guy,” Chan says, fist-bumping him.
“And conveniently, Seungmin isn’t here to confirm your alibi for Felix’s murder?” Minho says.
Changbin’s face drops, and he opens his mouth to respond but Jisung continues his nerdy speech about movies.
“Now, you know who you should never trust in these situations?”
You avert your attention back to Jisung, letting Changbin off the hook for a moment.
Jisung tilts his head, almost expecting someone to jump in with an answer but when no one responds, he tuts loudly. “The love interest,” he says, his eyes on your boyfriend.
Your arm drops from Minho and you turn to him. He stays cool, his face deadpan but his eyes glance at everyone. He laughs, leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “Me?” he tsks. “I was at the party all night.”
“and when Seungmin died? Didn’t you leave the game halfway through?” Jisung says.
Your eyes go wide, he had left. Right after Seungmin. Your blood runs cold but then Minho responds, pushing your doubts away.
“I was smoking with Yeonjun, I hadn't spoken to him in forever.” He shrugs. “We were just catching up and before I knew it, the game was over.” He turns to you, “You believe me, don’t you, baby?”
You nod, it couldn’t be him. You knew when Minho was lying, you’d been with him long enough. “Of course I do,” you say.
Jisung and Chan glance at each other and then Chan speaks up, “and what about Jeongin?”
“He was with me and Y/N, we already covered that,” Hyunjin says, finally finding his voice. He’d been quiet for most of the conversation, just sitting next to Changbin and absentmindedly playing with the loose threads on the couch.
“Who said the love interest I was talking about was Minho anyway?” Jisung taunts.
Hyunjin’s ears go pink, his eyes dart to Minho’s, then yours, then back to Jisung’s. “W-What?” he stutters.
Hyunjin felt like he’d been caught. How could they know what the three of you were doing when it had just happened? He sucked on his bottom lip nervously before responding, he didn’t know how much Jisung knew and he didn’t want to out you and Minho in case you wanted to keep it private. “I- We-”
“Oh, come on, Hyun. We’re not blind.” Jisung says, his arms gesturing to the room. “Everyone knows you have a massive crush on Y/N.”
Chan interjects, a light laugh leaving his lips, “It is kinda obvious dude.”
Hyunjin stands up all of a sudden, his usual sweet demeanour disappears in a blink, he shoves a pointed finger against Chan’s chest. “Talking about obvious? Aren’t you always eye fucking her?”
Hyunjin’s actions take you by surprise. Where the fuck had that sudden rage come from?
Chan pushes his hand down, slowly, he stands his ground and when he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “Take your hand off me.”
Changbin rises now, pushing them away from each other, “Let’s just cool off a second, guys… Jisung, you said something about a pattern? In the killings? So if this were a stupid fucking horror movie, who’s next? You?” he asks as the men separate. Hyunjin sits back down with a heavy sigh, whilst Chan starts pacing in his corner of the living room.
Jisung laughs but when no one joins him he huffs, “Oh come on. Everyone knows the only way to survive a horror movie?”
“Well, you’re either the final girl,” he exclaims, gesturing to you with an amused grin. “Or… you’re a virgin.”
You all erupt with laughter but Hyunjin cuts in, his tone serious, “Or you’re the killer?”
“What- No… I-” Jisung defends himself, stammering over his words.
“Where were you during the ‘death scenes’ then?” he says, gesturing with bent fingers.
“Well, I was… at home-”
“Alone?” Chan asks, turning to him.
“Yeah, but-” he points to you. “I was with you for the entire game, right?”
“There could be more than one?” Chan mutters under his breath.
You suddenly feel a surge of anger, sick of the stupid movie conspiracies and accusations when you’re meant to be sticking together, that was the point of the meeting.
"This is ridiculous," you yell, standing up abruptly. "I can't believe we're all turning on each other like this."
You storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. Changbin follows you, glancing at Minho on route, who just stares at him blankly.
He finds you in the hallway, your back turned to him. As he approaches, he notices the bruises on your collarbone and arm.
"Hey, are you okay?" Changbin asks, his voice softening. “Did someone do that to you?" His fingers, grazing your purpled skin.
You turn to face him, your eyes wide. How could you explain how you got these bruises to Changbin? What would he think if he found out you slept with Hyunjin and Minho? "No, it's nothing. I'm fine."
Changbin's brow furrows. "Are you sure? Because it looks like someone's been hurting you. Is it Minho?"
Your eyes widen in surprise. "No, of course not! Minho loves me. He would never do anything to hurt me."
Minho appears in the hallway, his expression worried. "What's going on? Why are you questioning her away from everyone?"
Changbin's voice hardens as he turns to Minho. "I'm just trying to figure out who's been giving her huge bruises. But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Minho's face darkens, and he takes a step forward, his voice low, almost threatening. "What the hell are you implying, Changbin? You think I had something to do with this?"
Changbin holds his gaze for a moment before turning away. "I don't know what to think anymore. But I'm keeping my eyes open."
He leaves you and your boyfriend alone in the hallway. Your gut filled with anxiety, you hated seeing your group torn like this. Half of you are gone and the other half are fighting with each other. You look at Minho, your heart aching with a mix of love and trepidation.
"I'm sorry, Minho," you whisper. "I don't know who to trust anymore."
Minho pulls you into a gentle embrace, his voice soothing. "It's okay. We'll figure this out together. You're safe with us, I promise."
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
Changbin’s house is a testament to his family’s wealth, a place that usually feels like a safe fortress. Tonight, though, it’s just a big, shadowy space where all of you are trying to pretend that nothing is wrong. Halloween decorations hang around the living room, plastic skeletons and fake cobwebs, which make you smile despite what’s happening.
You’re all lounging on the sofas, trying to laugh at the cheesy horror movie on the TV. Jisung cracks jokes about how the characters in the film never turn on the lights, and Chan rolls his eyes good-naturedly. Minho sits in the corner, quiet and watchful with his arm around your waist, while Hyunjin sketches something, stealing occasional glances your way.
Eventually, Changbin stands up. “I’m gonna grab some beers from the basement. Anyone want anything else?”
A chorus of “nope” and “we’re good” follows him as he heads downstairs. Jisung jumps in, “Hey Bin, are you trying to get yourself killed, going to the basement alone? Are you watching the same movie I am?”
“Come with me then if you’re that worried!” Changbin snaps, the stress clearly getting to him. “Jesus, I’ll leave you to it on second thought,” Jisung comments.
Chan turns to you and asks if you wanna get some snacks from the kitchen with him, you agree not really wanting to go anywhere alone after what happened to your friends, you had almost argued with Changbin about going to the basement alone but you see Jisung follow him, muttering about his mood swings, just after he turns down to the staircase and the anxiously in your gut fades. Minho loosens his hold on you with a huff but you don’t ask why he seems so moody, it must be the grief of losing his friends. Minho tends to lead with anger when he’s upset, rarely allowing himself to be vulnerable around you.
The basement is well-lit, almost too bright against the dark stairwell. Changbin flicks the light on and steps inside, the chill of the basement settling around him as he opens the fridge. As he gazes over the options for drinks, the lights flicker. Changbin pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Ha ha, very funny, Jisung!” he calls up the stairs.
Jisung’s laughter echoes down. “Gotcha! Just making sure you’re still alive, man.” Changbin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious.”
Jisung disappears with a final chuckle, and Changbin returns to the fridge. He leans in, grabbing a six-pack, when the lights flicker again. This time longer, more ominous. The basement plunges
into darkness for a heartbeat before the lights blink back on.
He stands up and turns, ready to yell something up the stairs but when he shuts the fridge door, Minho is standing right there.
“Jesus!” Changbin jumps, nearly dropping the beers. “Minho, you scared the crap out of me.”
Minho just smiles, but it’s not his usual smirk. There’s something off about it, something cold. “Sorry, Changbin. Didn’t mean to spook you.”
Changbin relaxes a little, laughing it off. “It’s fine, just- everyone’s on edge, you know? After everything that’s happened.” He hesitates, then decides to mention it. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I noticed some bruises on Y/N’s arm. I know it’s not my business, but it looked bad. Are you guys okay?”
Minho’s eyes darken slightly, the smile never reaching them. “You’re right, it’s not your business.”
Changbin frowns, opening his mouth to speak but Minho is faster. He slams Changbin’s head against the edge of the fridge, the impact stunning him. The beers clatter to the floor, rolling away as Changbin tries to push him off.
“Ahh, Fuck!” Changbin yells.
Minho’s grip is in his hair, pulling him back only to slam his head against the fridge again. Changbin starts getting dizzy and mutters something under his breath. Minho pulls him in, his face inches away from Changbin’s now red cheeks. “What did you say?”
“She’ll never stay with you once she finds out,” he slurs, his eyes unfocused.
Minho laughs darkly, “Actually, I think she will. Now I’ve given her what she’s always wanted. And Hyunjin will help me convince her, you know how soppy and romantic he is. She’ll take his word.”
“Hyunjin?” Changbin mumbles.
“Oh, that’s right. You didn’t know…” Minho pauses, his eyes trail down Changbin’s form like he’s nothing but an ant ready to be squished beneath his leather sole. “I let him have her last night. The poor boy is so obsessed with her, he’d do anything I asked just for a taste of her sweet little pussy.” He says through gritted teeth.
“You’re sick!” Changbin shouts.
Minho yanks on his hair again and Changbin hisses. “He was the one who bruised her like that,
he was so fucking desperate. Eating her out like it would be the only chance he had.” He tuts, “Once we’ve gotten rid of that cunt Chan who keeps sniffing around our girl, we’ll take her and she’ll come running into our arms.”
“Fuck you!” Changbin spits.
Minho growls, seeing red and opens the fridge door, he holds Changbin’s head where the door meets the frame and smashes the door into his skull. There’s a sickening crunch and Changbin’s vision blurs.
“Sorry, Changbin,” Minho murmurs, almost gently, as he keeps slamming the door into Changbin’s head. “But you were starting to ask way too many questions.” Minho’s voice is eerily calm as he continues, the words punctuated by the dull thuds of Changbin’s skull meeting metal. “You see, you really shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to Y/N.”
Changbin gurgles, trying to form words, but Minho’s grip is unrelenting. The world is slipping away in a haze of pain and confusion, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth.
Minho tilts his head, almost like he’s contemplating a piece of art. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure everyone thinks it’s just another random attack. Wrong place, wrong time, all that.”
The final blow comes swiftly, a brutal slam that leaves Changbin crumpling to the floor, motionless, his brains dented in and blood pooling out of the crippled bones. Minho steps back, wiping his hands casually on his jeans. He takes a deep breath and lets out a contented sigh like he hasn’t just bashed Changbin’s skull in. He leaves through the basement side entrance, ready for his next move.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
“Honesty! LOOK BEHIND YOU!” Jisung shouts at the television, the screen shows a guy in his kitchen making dinner with the villain stalking behind him quietly, holding a knife high in the air.
A figure looms behind Jisung, watching as he continues to scream at the tv with an eerie patience, he steps closer and closer, his breathing slightly laboured when he grabs his shoulder.
“Fuck! Hyunjin! Not funny, bro!” Jisung yelps and lets out an embarrassed chuckle, his heart racing wildly as Hyunjin drops next to him on the couch.
“Too easy,” Hyunjin laughs, offering Jisung a gummy sweet.
He takes the treat and chews loudly, “Are we crazy?” Jisung asks him with furrowed brows. “There’s a killer on the loose and we decide to watch horror movies and all split up in an old house.”
“Maybe a little,” Hyunjin mutters with a strange smirk. “But only if one of us was the killer, right?”
Jisung turns to him, his eyes dancing over Hyunjin’s features. “What?”
Hyunjin scoffs a cocky laugh and pulls a large blade out of his jacket pocket suddenly and leans over Jisung in one fell swoop, his hand pins Jisung by the throat and he presses the flat side of the blade against the younger man's cheek. Jisung trembles in horror, his eyes wide and glistening with tears threatening to spill.
Jisung’s breath hitches, his voice comes out whiny and loud, “No? It’s not you…” A tear falls down his flushed, puffy cheek. “You wouldn’t we’ve been friends for-”
Hyunjin presses a hand over his mouth, leaning in so his face is only an inch away, his jaw clenches with restraint as he mutters, “Shh, we don’t wanna scare anyone, don’t cry like a little bitch.”
Jisung whimpers under Hyunjin's hand and Hyunjin smiles a maniacal grin, pushing the knife harder against the soft skin of his cheek, the sting causes Jisung to yelp when footsteps approach from the kitchen.
Hyunjin thinks quickly and pulls Jisung by the grip on his throat and yanks the scared boy on top of him. Jisung grunts when he lands on him as you enter the room with a bag of popcorn, your eyes taking in the scene.
Hyunjin grabs Jisung’s hand and places the knife into it, plunging it into himself harshly. The blade cuts deep into his side, the large gush flooding with crimson and he growls deeply in searing agony.
Hyunjin’s face changes right before Jisung's shocked eyes from the villain into a soft, helpless victim, the change so maddeningly smooth he stutters his words but Hyunjin interrupts him with a scream, “Y/N! RUN! IT’S JISUNG! HE STABBED ME! RUN!”
You have no time to think because your body immediately reacts, you drop the popcorn, the sugary snack spills onto the floor and your boots crunch them into the carpet as you sprint towards the front door.
You rip it open and come face to face with a man in the ghost-face mask, he tilts his head with a sickening flare and you scream. Arms fly around your waist and pull you back, “Get behind me!” Chan yells as he puts himself between you and the masked man.
Before you can do anything, the killer lunges for Chan, toppling them onto the floor. They scramble in a flurry of limbs, one moment Chan is being punched in the ribs the next he’s kicking the masked man off him.
The killer slams into the doorframe with a yell that sounds unfamiliar, the voice changer crackling as he stumbles. Chan grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs, the two of you grab at the bannister.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Chan says as you both run through the upper hallway looking for places to hide.
Whilst you run from the killer, Hyunjin grabs Jisung again, pushing him onto the floor with a groan, his t-shirt stained with blood from his stab wound. Jisung attempts to crawl away.
“Help! Minho, Changbin! Help-” Jisung’s screams are cut short as Hyunjin kicks him in the ribs, laughing manically.
“Minho isn’t gonna save you, I thought you were a horror movie nerd?” Hyunjin says as he fists his dark curls.
Jisung winces from the burn to his scalp as Hyunjin leans over him pressing his lips to his ear, “Never trust the love interest,” he says through gritted teeth, dropping him to the ground like a rag-doll, he reaches for the television remote and whacks him over the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
“Get in there,” Chan whispers to you as he opens the cleaning closet.
“It’s Jisung… Chan, one of them is Jisung,” you sob.
“Shh, it’s okay…” Chan says, before you interrupt.
“No! Let's hide together!” You cry.
“Trust me,” Chan says as he glances at the stairs where he can hear footsteps approaching. “I’ll distract him, go.” Chan’s tone leaves no room for you to argue as you climb in next to the brooms and mops, the air is thick with bleach, you hold a hand over your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing and sobs as you see the light shining under the door go dark.
You know he’s there, you can feel him hovering, like he already knows where you are but wants to taunt you.
But then, he steps away and stalks down the opposite corridor.
You’re panting against your hand, fear pumps through your veins and your lungs burn from running up the stairs.
Unbeknownst to you, Chan is hidden under Changbin’s Father’s bed, he curses himself at the foolish idea but he’d rather the killer found him first, he needed to get you out of here. He wills himself to calm his breathing, as he listens for footsteps, after two minutes of silence, he fears the worst. He crawls from under the bed slowly and rises to his feet, creeping towards the bedroom door when the killer appears from behind him as if he’d been in the room with him the whole time waiting for him to come out.
“Fuck!” Chan screams as he sprints away from the killer down the hall, but as he approaches the bannister a burning pain in the back of his ankle causes him to trip over onto the floor, blood spurts from his severed achilles heel and he screams in horror as he cradles his leg.
The killer slowly comes into view from behind him as the second one walks up the stairs, wiping his knife with his glove after making his cut.
Chan attempts to crawl away but groans loudly as he puts weight on his foot.
You burst out of the cleaning closet, unable to do anything while Chan suffers. Your eyes are so wide with shock as you realise you have no defence.
“There she is,” One of the masked men says in the ominous voice that makes your blood curdle.
You slowly back away as he steps into your space, and suddenly you're plunged into darkness. Your hands scramble for purchase, unable to see anything.
“Y/N! Y-” Chan’s pleas fall silent as someone hits the side of your head, your mind goes into a haze before sleep overtakes you.
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
Your head hangs forward heavily as you come to, your hands feel numb from the bindings on your wrists and your shoulders burn, your limbs, taught.
When you lift your head, you blink through the blur to see Chan tied to a dining chair next to you in Changbin’s kitchen.
“Chan?” you call out, your voice raw from screaming.
His head is bloodied and bruised, it hangs limply to the side, his eyes closed,
“He’s not awake yet, baby.”
You turn towards the kitchen island to see your boyfriend leaning against it with a cocky smirk on his face, his hands busy wiping a knife clean.
“Minho?” you whisper in disbelief.
Next to him, Hyunjin sits on the counter, his legs dangling with a towel pressed to his side, scarlet soaking the fabric.
“Hyun- Where’s Jisung… he-” you stutter.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Minho says as he pushes off the island and makes his way towards you.
You stare up at him with curious eyes, confused by what’s happening. He squats down in front of you and holds your chin softly in his hand. He looks over you, tilting your head left and right.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“Untie me, Minho.” You mutter through your teeth, anger beginning to fill you.
Minho jerks your chin up suddenly, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. His voice is stern and final, “Don’t you dare command me, baby.” His face presses against yours as he kisses the sweet spot under your ear and then snarls, “I thought you liked it when I tied you up.”
You attempt to pull away but his fingers dig into your skin.
“Be a good girl for me and listen.” He says, his voice gentle again as he lets go and walks back to Hyunjin.
“Minho,” Hyunjin groans. “It hurts.”
Minho doesn’t answer straight away as he lifts his shirt to check the damage. Hyunjin hisses before Minho snaps, “Quit whining, it’s not even that deep.”
Hyunjin presses the towel back onto it, a frown on his face and a sick part of you pities him. He meets your gaze as Minho goes to Chan’s limp body, and his eyes have the same look in them as when you removed the blindfold during your night together. Pure desire.
You’re not sure what possesses you but you smile back, hoping to sweeten him up. If Minho won’t let you go, maybe he will. His eyes soften, there might be hope yet for you.
Chan shudders awake when Minho flicks water on his face.
“Our knight in shining armour has finally decided to join us,” Minho taunts.
Chan glances back and forth between the three of you, then pulls at his bindings to no avail.
“What the fuck!” he screams, the chair groans from his efforts.
Hyunjin and Minho laugh together, but like day to night, Minho’s face drops and his stare turns cold.
“Surprise,” he says.
“So it was you two… all along. I should have fucking known. You’ve always been so possessive over her.” Chan says, fury in his eyes.
“What?” you say, confused.
“I know, baby, it’s hard to believe,” Minho says mockingly. “But people do crazy things when they're in love and I wasn’t going to stand by for much longer and watch all of our friends lust over what’s mine.”
The image of the blood-soaked wall in the locker room where Seungmin’s body was found flashes in your mind like it was obvious all along. Had you just chosen to ignore the signs?
“Ours.” Hyunjin cuts in with a small voice.
Minho turns to him with a small chuckle, parting from his lips. “Right. Ours.”
“You absolute psychopaths! You killed them… all of them. Why? Because you were threatened? She’s already your fucking girlfriend!” Chan shouts.
“Watch your tone,” Minho retorts, his hands balled into fists by his sides.
Chan laughs in disbelief, “You’re out of your fucking mind. She would have left you as soon as she found out about this.”
Minho smacks Chan across the face, his head jerking sideways from the impact.
“Minho, please stop!” you whimper.
Hyunjin watches on with dreamy eyes like he’s enjoying it.
Chan turns back to Minho with an angry stare, his tongue pushes on the inside of his cheek.
“Jesus Y/N, he’s always the fucking hero in your story,” Minho says, waving his arms theatrically. “Not this time, now you’ll only have me and Hyunjin. You’ll be our final girl.” His voice is sickly sweet as he strokes your cheek softly.
“You think she’ll still love you? After this?” Chan retorts.
Minho gets up in his face, fisting Chan’s hair. “I fucking know she will.”
Hyunjin giggles as he watches the two of them. Minho shoves Chan’s face away like it offends him and walks back to Hyunjin slowly, his eyes on Chan in a predatory glare.
“What did you do to them? I want answers!” Chan shouts, a grimace on his features.
“Well, we experimented first, didn’t we, Hyun,” Minho says, patting the younger man’s shoulder like a proud father.
Hyunjin nods, enthusiastically, “That fucking English teacher, he screamed like a high schooler.”
“Yeah, because you kept stabbing him in the wrong place, dipshit.” Minho retorts. “We didn’t know what we were doing then, all I knew was my girl kept flirting with him in class.” Minho looks at you then, disappointment apparent on his face.
“I didn’t-” You start but Minho holds his finger up to silence you.
“Oh, but you did. You couldn’t help it…” He says condescendingly.
You scowl at him and he pushes from the kitchen island approaching you with measured steps.
“Don’t look at me like that, Baby,” He says in a low voice.
“Or what!” You spit.
He grabs the knife from the countertop and takes long strides to Chan, grabbing his long dark locks and pulling them at the root. Chan hisses and Minho shoves the blade to the right corner of his mouth.
“Or I’ll carve a pretty smile into your little crush here,” Minho snarls with a psychotic smirk. “You want me to ruin his face?”
“No!” You scream out, tears spilling onto your flushed cheeks. “Please! Stop! Don’t-”
Minho steps back, putting the knife back on the side.
“So you do like him?” Hyunjin mutters.
“He’s my friend of course I-”
Hyunjin jumps off the counter, as if given a jolt of energy.
He strolls up to you with a deranged look in his eyes, “Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” his tone is almost condescending, wistful in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You’ve fancied him for a long time, haven’t you?” he grabs your chin harshly, making you look at Chan. “Tell him.”
Tears streak down your face as Chan looks at you with pleading eyes.
“TELL HIM!” Hyunjin suddenly screams, and you shake violently from the jump scare as Minho laughs humourlessly.
“I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids,” you whisper defeatedly.
“Now your turn,” Minho whispers to Chan. “Go on, tell her how you feel.”
“I’ve felt the same for a few years now,” his voice is raspy.
Minho huffs out of his nose as if frustrated, “and that's why we have to get rid of you too.” he mutters as if to himself, he grabs the knife and stabs Chan’s shoulder. Blood oozes from the wound as he cries out.
“Please no! Please!” You sob but it’s no use.
Hyunjin leans down, his face in line with yours and he whispers, “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” He kisses you, his tongue dominates your mouth immediately but you don’t pull away, scared of what they’ll do to Chan if you don’t comply, your body reacting on instinct. He mutters against your lips, “Fuck, Sweetheart, I love you so much.” You jolt as if struck by lightning. He hadn’t ever said that to you and now is the time he decides to drop it, like he’s not affected by what’s transpiring.
Minho smirks at both of you, “Took you long enough Hyun,” he chuckles, ignoring Chan’s whimpers.
Chan lifts his head defiantly, “Just tell me why? Why the others?”
Hyunjin beams, “Well after the that was the night of the party at Seungmin’s,” he pats your cheek, “Lix decided to tell me that you were his first,” he eyes burn into yours as he bites his lip in restraint. “and I couldn’t have that… you were already Minho’s, fancied Chan… but that little blonde bastard too! I followed him and Jisung back to his, waited till Jisung left and made my first solo kill,” he smirks, gazing into the distance like the memory of it pleases him.
“Then there was Seungmin,” Minho butts in. “He thought he could dedicate his home run to MY girlfriend?” he laughs petulantly.
“You’re pathetic,” Chan wheezes.
Minho’s head snaps towards him, “What did you say?” he asks, his tone low.
Chan spits blood, “I said you’re pathetic-”
Minho stabs him again, in the thigh this time and Chan groans.
“Jeongin, begged us Chan…” Minho taunts quietly. “He was sobbing when I shoved my knife down his throat.” A smile stretched over Minho’s features. “He’s pathetic, I’m just a man in love.” Minho strides over to you, drunk on power and starts kissing you deeply. When he pulls back, his pupils are blown out. “Tell me you’re ours, baby, say who you belong to.”
“You and Hyunjin,” you whimper.
His thumb runs over your cheekbone, “Good girl,” he says with a salacious look on his face.
“Changbin…” Chan grunts, swaying from blood loss. “What did you do to Changbin?”
Minho grins at Hyunjin, then turns back to Chan, “I smashed his head in the fridge door,” He says, nonchalantly. “He was asking too many questions.”
“Where’s Jisung?” you cry.
Minho strokes your hair as he speaks, as Hyunjin picks up the knife and slowly drives it into Chan’s stomach, his eyes glazed over in wonder. “He’s okay, he’ll be spared.”
Chan groans lowly, his head dipping forward as he bleeds out. “You’re using him… aren’t you?” he mumbles.
You sob uncontrollably as Minho reveals the final stage in their plan.
“He’ll take the fall, us three will be long gone,” he runs his thumb over your jaw in faux comfort. “Just us and our perfect girl, our final girl.”
You sob as Hyunjin stabs Chan a final time, and blood drains out of his mouth as his body goes limp.
“No!” you cry.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Minho mutters as he returns to the kitchen island, he grabs a bottle of clear fluid and pours it onto a tea towel, he approaches you again and shoves it under your nose. The substance burns your nostrils immediately as you fight to stay awake.
“Say goodbye-”
✞══════ 31 DAYS OF HORROR ══════✞
Jisung wakes up on the floor. The room feels like it’s spinning, he groans, “What the fuck,” as he sits up. Memories of just before he blacked out come flooding back like an unwanted nightmare - the knife, the pain and Hyunjin...that bastard!
Jisung winces and holds the side of his head. He can hear what sounds like sirens in the distance. He gets up, stumbling, his hands flying out to grip the nearest object. He stops for a moment, using the couch to keep his grip steady.
“Y/n!” He shouts, but no one answers.
The house is eerily quiet. He sucks in a sharp breath and the pain in his head pounds incessantly.
“Y/N!” His scream turns into a broken whimper and nothing but his own voice echoes back at him. Panic rises in his gut as he drags his bruised body to the hallway and sees that the door is wide open, a trail of blood leading from his feet to the front door.
He follows it and on the doorstep lies a large kitchen knife drenched in scarlet. He recognises it as the one Hyunjin had tried to stab him with.
The memory flashes again like lightning, making his head throb and tears spill from his eyes. He blinks them away to see a mass of black fabric on the floor. Jisung bends down, wincing in pain as he turns it over to reveal a blood-soaked ghost-face mask.
“What the-” is all Jisung can get out as the realisation floods him that it was Hyunjin and Minho the whole time, taking out his friends one by one.
“Fucking evil motherfuckers!” Jisung screams out, throwing the mask to the floor with what little energy he has left. He falls back onto his knees and breaks down, the salty tears stinging his tired eyes.
He notices something else left on the floor in the pool of crimson. He gasps as his brain catches up. There was no denying what it was, he'd know that colour and texture anywhere - a roughly cut chunk of your hair.
He reaches out and picks up more of it as the tears continue to cascade down his puffy cheeks, he realises it’s charred like it had been burnt, the putrid smell hits the back of his throat, the grief in his stomach twists like a dagger. The thought of what those two maniacs he called his best friends did to you makes him retch and cry out.
A tapping noise snaps him from his heaving. Still fearful, he grabs the knife from the floor and drags himself up, following the sound to the kitchen. His breathing comes out heavy and the blade shakes in his grip.
He hobbles into the kitchen, and the scene he's met with is straight out of the horror movies he loved so much. The reality hits him like a runaway train, a stark contrast to the usual thrill he feels as an observer.
Chan's body is slumped over, tied to a dining chair.
The same ones, they would all sit around and eat dinner Changbin’s father had made while they chatted about everything and anything as kids.
Chan’s face is a pulpy mess of broken bones and torn flesh, with eyes swollen shut and dark red haemorrhaging from multiple stab wounds over his torso. His hair is matted with thick, congealing blood, and his clothes are shredded and soaked. The ropes cut deep into his wrists and ankles. The air is thick with a coppery scent and the faint, sickly sweet smell of burnt hair.
Jisung swallows, holding back more tears. He feels almost numb now when he notices the sound is coming from Chan’s lifeless body.
The pat pat pat that echoes is his blood draining out onto the expensive tile. Jisung is speechless and can't help but just stare at Chan's corpse.
Their leader was dead, the man Jisung had looked up to, who had helped him when he was at his lowest, spoke up for him and understood him through all his quirks and weirdness. Now he was reduced to nothing but a beaten, bloody mess, cold, his life force draining out in the middle of Changbin’s kitchen.
Jisung collapses in grief and crawls to Chan, not caring about the crimson that soaks his jeans. His hand circles Chan’s cold ankle as he sobs uncontrollably.
“I'm sorry, Chan, I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything to help you. I'm sorry I couldn't save Y/n,” he begs as if his friend can hear him.
All hope he has leaves him, he doesn't know how long he kneels there crying into the pools of Chan’s blood, muttering apologies, but it was long enough for the sirens to get closer.
His ears ring from the noise and he’s brought out of his trance as the police shuffle into the house. A soft, authoritative, deep voice speaks. The policeman is standing by the kitchen door, his gun drawn and pointed right at Jisung.
“Hey, son, I'm Officer Park. Keep your hands where I can see them. What’s your name?”
“Han Jisung”, he croaks out, his eyes wide as he raises his hands slowly, the blade still in his grasp, he forgot he was holding.
“Alright, Jisung, I'm gonna need you to put the knife down and come with me so I can ask you a few questions. Are you aware of your right to an attorney? Anything you say-”
Before Officer Park can finish reading him his rights, Jisung drops the knife; it clatters to the floor, and he turns to Officer Park with a panicked look on his face.
“Wait, no, no! You think I did all of this?” he cries out, as officers swarm, tackling him to the ground and locking handcuffs on him, the steel cold against his burning skin.
“Please, you have to believe me, I didn't do this, I swear!” Jisung fights the whole way to the front door, pleading his innocence.
BREAKING NEWS
"Good evening. Tonight, we bring you a chilling update on the string of murders that have rocked our small town. A killer terrorising local teens from Woodsboro High School has struck again for the final time tonight, leaving a trail of terror and tragedy in his wake. Our town can sleep well tonight knowing the elusive and ruthless killer is finally behind bars. The victims, all friends and an English teacher from the school, were targeted in a series of seemingly random attacks. However, police have discovered a disturbing pattern… Each victim received a cryptic phone call moments before their death.”
The female news reporter places two fingers on her earpiece.
“We have just received word that the suspect in custody was caught at the scene of the crime, a local teen by the name of Han Jisung. Sources close to the investigation have revealed that he may have been driven by an obsessive love for an unknown individual who is currently suspected to be one of the three unidentified victims found burnt alive in the house. The rest of the victims' families have been notified. I am Skye Rivers, and this is Woodsboro News."
DISCLAIMER - We do not own the rights to Stray Kids, they are used as inspiration for fiction and the actions in the fic do not represent the idols in real life.
I wanted to thank everyone for the love I received for this fic! It’s my second most successful fic I’ve posted on my page! It was literally a random fantasy I had after seeing Stray Kids live and I didn’t expect it to be so loved, so thank you once again.
I also wanted to apologise for the fact we’re taking so long to finish 31 days of horror but we’re still super thankful for everyone’s patience, kind comments, likes and reblogs. Another one will be out asap!
One more apology for those who are waiting on the next parts for ‘Red Light, Green Light’ and ‘Stray Things’. These will be my priority once #Staytinyhalloween is done. 🫶🏻 Thank you for your patience and I hope you’re looking forward to the next instalments!
I wanted to come on here and ask, since you guys loved this fic, would you like it if I made it into a series? I have some ideas for a continuation of the story but wanted to see if that was of interest to you guys?
warnings: alien!han & human!reader ⋆ switch!han & switch!reader ⋆ tentacle!play (han has a different anatomy!) ⋆ sucking tentacles! & penetration by tentacles! ⋆ sensory!play⋆ small!dry humping ⋆ obsessive behavior ⋆ a lot of drooling ⋆ dirty talk ⋆ han whimpers a lot⋆ spitting! ⋆ biting! ⋆ marking! ⋆ nipple!play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ oral (f. receiving) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ breading kink! (ehm a very big one) ⋆ tummy bulge!⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!
summary: after so many wishes, you almost learned to accept it — the silence, the feeling that your fate had already been sealed by your own loneliness, but then, after so many nights of whispering your hopes, one of them was finally heard and its answer came falling from the sky…
main masterlist
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Everyday was the same for you — a never ending circle. It was all too quiet for you after a while. You wished for a change, even the smallest one, because you couldn’t accept that this is it. You wished for a change in anything and everything — when you would blow on a dandelion or even when you would find a piece of clover, but none of it worked. Your life was simple, almost perfect, you really had no reason to be wishing for something more, but to you, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed. On each birthday or new year, you just decided to hope — hope that it would come to you eventually. However you did break your own promise, a single wish that somehow was heard — heard from the stars above.
You don’t even know, what you wanted anymore. If something would come, you think you wouldn’t know what to do. Every day you woke up to the sound of the rooster singing in the coop. A small farm at the outskirts of a small city was given to you by your aunt and being a struggling young adult, you took the opportunity. You just didn’t know that would be the last gift you would ever receive from her. She passed away few months after that, like it was her last wish. You can still remember her smiling at your clumsiness and the way you struggled to even feed the animals from a close distance. You could have gone home, sold this place which she gave to you — but you would never do that to her. Not after everything she done for you, living her last moments with you, showing you what she loved the most and that is why you feel so horrible of asking for a change. It was her home after all, everything here is still hers, she did everything — you just wished you could bring something of yours to this place too.
Sometimes you think you don’t deserve it — everything she left you, but you then remember her telling you that there was no other person that could have deserve this more than you. From all the production her lovely farm gives, you didn’t have to worry about working, just living and that is maybe what you struggle with the most. You want a change, however you don’t do anything to get it — you hate yourself because of it, that you just expect it will fall right on your head. The once difficult things had passed, they were now simple — your everyday routine, but still you always try to find even the slightest of changes.
Today, just like any other, was spent outside. Your own body was moving around unconsciously, on an instinct, while your mind was stuck. You wonder why you didn’t try more and maybe go for the thing you have spent most of your life studying for, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t enough…you wanted something more — something otherworldly. Something new that could open your clouded mind and see that it all make sense. With you being here, with you deciding to stay and wait for a bit longer. The animals keep you company at least, reminding you that you are not so alone as you might think. The cat left by your aunt didn’t leave your side — a beautiful black, fluffy ball, lighting up most of your days. However, today it was different…
From the way she kept looking around, like searching, sitting closely to your side, observing her surroundings — you didn’t think much of it, till you noticed the others behaving differently as well. You are no fool, you know that animals sense things humans cannot, but somehow you felt your heart beating just a bit faster than usual. You blamed it on the earth itself. It was so quiet throughout the day, more than you are used to. It was a beautiful day, but it felt like it was the calm right before a storm and you were only proven right, when you saw the news. A meteor shower was announced, at midnight and that is a change you were waiting for all along — but as all people say…change comes, when you least expect it and that because true.
The farm was a little away from the city and even at night its lights weren’t strong as the once in the sky. You could probably name each and every star from memory, still counting them down, till you maybe find a new one. Never once you saw one passing however, like you were stuck in time, but the sudden news, made you feel warm in expectation. Maybe you could make a one last wish, maybe it would bring you something that would change your view of the world around you forever.
At night, everything turns quiet — even the crickets and the owl, that would always sing in the distance. You feel a slight bite at the tips of your fingers, making you pull the blanket around you just a bit tighter. Your warm breath materializes infront of you, clouding your vision for a moment, before it dissolves into the night’s breeze. You are alone, you know it, but being alone for so long couldn’t stop the paranoia slowly creeping up on you. You feel a presence, somewhere far away, but you only shake your head at yourself, head tilting up to the sky. A soft purr echoes under you, slight pressure digging into your leg, making you snap out of your thoughts all together.
You don’t know for how long you have been waiting outside, staring into the abyss up in the skies, waiting — just waiting for something to appear between the already known stars. You feel silly somehow, sitting outside on your porch, while the others in the world are doing something else with their lives, already forgetting about the simple, small news that brought you a sense of excitement. However you feel lucky, because you know that you might be the first one to see it, first one to make a wish. Another sigh leaves you, cold biting your cheeks, when a small gust of wind passes by. It brings you a fresh breath of air, an unfamiliar feeling that momentarily makes you choke, because at that a first light passes in the sky.
The shinning light reflects in your eyes, pupils galloping another one passing by. It is beautiful — you sometimes forgot how your planet can be this mesmerizing and you can’t help, but wonder if maybe you are not the only one up there experiencing such a show. You start to count them, but each time another one passes by, now too many up in the sky, that it made you lose your count. So you decide to just to admire, just wait. Each meteor cuts through the darkness, flying through the sky, till they disappear behind the trees. Every one of them flies the same way, like they also have a destination to fulfill. But then you saw it — a one so different from the others.
It is faster, brighter than the others and you blink a little as you swear it had a different hue of color to it too. Everything stills for a moment, your next breath not leaving you as you watch it glide through the sky. It passes the others, falling faster and you swear you can see it moving into a different direction — like it came from a whole different place than the others. That is what you were waiting for…you were waiting for a feeling, for the right star that you wish upon. In the midst of the meteor shower, the bright light seems so out of space — moving so differently, but it seems like it had a destination just like the other. So before it vanishes, you try to make your wish. However your mind was frozen, completely mesmerized, eyes unmoving and forgetting…though you didn’t know that your wish was already heard.
When the striking glow disappears, the feeling doesn’t — like something was slowly making its way to you. To your heart, body and mind all together. It was nothing, just a one small change shouldn’t make you feel like this. It was something that you quite couldn’t comprehend yet, like somewhere in your head there was a door ready to be open. When it left, so did your interest. You didn’t find the appeal to watch the sky any longer, but you tell yourself it was the cold lightly biting at your skin. Standing up to your feet, your blanket drips around you, flowing lightly in the night’s breeze as you make your way inside.
The old home creeked at your every step, the sound of the wood under your feet almost screeching in the quietness. A wave of tiredness washes over you, blinking rapidly at the sudden feeling, shoulders drooping. You didn’t even notice how your muscles were screaming for you to lay down till now, slowly melting from the freezing outside. It was something about the darkness around you — it felt so different somehow, you couldn’t help but quicken your steps to your bathroom, heart beating faster. Paranoia…or was it? You have always felt safe here, knowing that there wasn’t no human being anywhere near you, but that was it.
You swallow your deep breath of what seem like fright, closing the door behind you like it could close off the feeling altogether. However even when your hands come to shed your clothes, even when you stepped inside your shower — warm water piercing your cold bitten skin, it doesn’t go away. Being so alone, without any contact of another, really maybe does something to a person. You are just searching for it, seeing it and imagining — your own mind is playing ticks on you again. It happened before, so many times, when you first stayed here…each one you think it might be different, that you maybe be right, but now — you hope you are not. It truly feels like something out of this planet, something that your human self can’t quite catch…before it is too late.
Your bed awaits for you, cold, even when you pull your covers up to your chin. It is so lonely. You lack the warmth. Your eyes stay on the moonlight hitting the walls — no movement, no shadow passing by…You want to fight the exhaustion, not ready to close your eyes just yet, like something would appear the moment you do. You sigh softly at yourself, blowing hot air onto your freezing fingers, curling up into a ball to fight the cold as well as the feeling of upcoming doom. No one is here…that’s what you repeat to yourself silently, eyes drifting close for a brief second. You couldn’t fight no more, a low hum filling your exhausted mind, the sound taking you to, what seem like an almost blissful sleep.
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You feel a small trail of sweat gathering at your hairline, skin ablaze from the duvet draped over your body, caging you in the suffocating heat. The air in the room is the same — cold, but you can almost taste the sudden density of it. Your mind is awake before your eyes can blink open, the state you are in making your wonder if you had a nightmare…no, you weren’t dreaming. Your head is in a haze, muscles strained, not even twitching, ready to fall back into the land of dreams, before you hear a sound. It was quiet, hidden by the humming of your blood in your ears. Just a creek of your old wooden home.
The house talks all the time, the years spend here reflecting in its state. You are still too exhausted to even move, but the sound does linger. You are pulled back to your reality slowly, the uncomfortable heat under your blankets making you finally take a move — just a small shift, another groan of the wood is heard…but it didn’t came from your bed. It was coming from outside your door. Your eyes open at that, still glued together with sleep, staring up to your bedroom’s ceiling. The cold air however doesn’t soothen you and you ignore your body trying to pull you back to sleep as your heart beat quickens and hearing sharpens.
No sound — maybe you have imagined it, maybe it was just the house, nothing more. You look down your body, eyes falling on to your cat who is soundly asleep next to your feet. The thought of maybe her being the cause of the sound flies away and now you can’t help, but feel uneasiness rising in you, because never once you have woken up just like that. Maybe your unconsciousness sensed something unfamiliar, something different. Then — then you hear it again, a creak, louder, heavier and it makes you gasp lightly. It sounded like a crash, the noise ringing in your ears. You don’t feel a stir next to you on the bed, but you are sure the thing you heard, wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you.
It couldn’t be the wind banging against your windows or one of the animals maybe coming loose — no, it was inside, right here with you. You become wide awake, fear filling you as you slowly and carefully sit up. You don’t want to believe for a moment longer, just so you could calm your racing heart, but the more you turn to stare at your bedroom door, the more you became uneasy. It is still dark, your bedside clock reading 3:00 am — the witching hour. You must be dreaming, this must be a true nightmare.
In your exhausted state you forgot to bring your phone here with you, such a stupid mistake to do. The air shifts around you as you pull your covers down your body. It is so quiet, unnaturally so. It could be anything — anyone. What if you are not so safe here as you once thought? Between your anxiety and fear, you feel a spark of curiously dispise yourself. There is no way you could just lay back down and fall asleep, knowing that the sound you heard wasn’t your imagination. You suddenly remember about the baseball bat your aunt kept after her husband — a once sweet memory how the two have met on a playing field could probably save your life as well.
You shuffle down your bed, feet touching the freezing floor. You are quiet, you try to be, breath becoming heavy as you realize what you are actually doing. However there was no escape here for you, nowhere to hide — window to your bedroom was too high for you to jump down without breaking a bone. You choose the fight in your instinct, making your way to the closet. When you open it, your eyes instantly fall to your chosen weapon, momentarily hasitent. Bang! Your heart almost jumps from your chest, head whipping to the door. The noice was different, no doubt that it wasn’t the house itself — each time they were louder, not frequent and with no rhythm.
Somebody is inside…Your hesitation disappears, shaking hands grasping the bat, standing slowly up on your trembling legs. It almost sounded like something fell and you hate that you will soon find out what exactly it was. The wooden floors creek lightly under your feet, realizing that one of the sounds you heard was maybe a footstep as well. You always were more scared of humans than the animals. They were unexpected, full of emotions that could burst so suddenly. You are shaking in terror, when you go to the door to wrap your hand around the door knob. You know that the person — you still hope it isn’t, definitely knows about you. Your belongings lay everywhere, your house warm in the sense of a human touch.
You hold your breath, grip tight around your weapon, that however still shakes in your mocked strong grasp. You realize that you have no idea about the verabouts of your enemy — they might be just waiting for you. No, if they were, they would be quieter, stealthier. You really can’t help it, but feel curious about their intentions. If it is an intruder, why are being so loud? Their actions became more vivid, the more you stayed back, like they wanted you to finally come out from your hiding…Maybe it is a trap. Though also if they wanted to hurt you, wouldn’t they do that when you were asleep? You really can’t keep guessing, it only makes your head spin, unfocused.
You take a deep breath, finally finding the courage to push the door open just slightly, ears pricking at any sound that could indicate danger. Nothing — why is it like that? One second you hear something and then it becomes eerily silent, you quickly realize that it wasn’t that…it was in the distance. Your eyes scan through the hallway, no one, no print or a door open. But then you hear the faintest of a noise — like a sigh. It sounded human, the reality washing over you like a cold shower. Your vision lands into the direction, head sticking out of the doorway, till your eyes land on the stairs. It came from downstairs…
You can’t fight the tears of fright anymore, even so, you still take a move to walk outside your room to the open. You are being stupid — you know that, but there was no other way for you to go. With careful steps, both of your hands come to wrap around the handle of your weapon. Maybe if you are quick enough, you could run out, but your small plan is so incomplete as you don’t even know who you are even facing. You just have to trust yourself of not holding back, if it will be needed. Walking your way towards the staircase, you cringe lightly as even with the most careful steps the floor under you creeks. Even if you heard the sound coming from downstairs, you found yourself looking back into the dark. You can’t even switch a light on, only the light of the moon lighting up your dark path — you can only listen and hope.
With the first step on the stairs, you plant your feet so they would slide across the small platform, knowing that even the sound of your heal hitting the surface could alert the thing in your house. You breathe out every time you descent more, silently counting down, till it becomes one — only one more and you will be at the same level. However you stop yourself, standing up right on the last step, whole body trembling. A single tear rolls down your cheek when you hear a shuffle not so far from you, coming right from your kitchen. The door to the outside is also there and you now know that you can’t do anything, but fight. You can’t run — that would be stupid of you as the person might be standing right around the corner.
You stare is plastered on the painting before you — a beautiful, yet simple landscape of the outside you have come to love, the one which you so long for. It is so dark however, you are only picturing it in your mind. Your eyes fall down to your feet, not ready to take the step that might be your last. Though your vision is so minimal, it didn’t mean you couldn’t sense anything else. A wave of sweet, metallic smell hits your nose, face flashing with confusion just for a moment. You realize that maybe your eyes were only clouded by your own dark thoughts, because as you turn to look into the direction of your kitchen, they come to find something way more interesting.
It was glowing — a purple fluorescent substance stained the surface of the floor. You haven’t seen anything like it before, it was blooming with life. The sight strikes you so much that you don’t even realize you have stepped down from the last step. How did you not see it? Were you so scared, that you truly weren’t aware of your surroundings as you thought you were? Your eyes must be deceiving you…However when you step closer, the smell hits your nose again. It was familiar — recognizable, but how can it be coming from something so foreign? You take a small step closer to it, just a shuffle, before you kneel down to the small puddle.
It didn’t look appealing nor disgusting, it was almost mesmerizing to you. It didn’t look artificial, it was just some sort of liquid. Your fingers twitch next to you, eager to touch the glowing substance, but a sound stops you. Your eyes widened, momentarily frozen at your spot, because it sounded like a grunt — a sigh filled with pain. Then a shadow leans out of the doorframe of your kitchen, making you jump back up to your feet. Your heart stops, hands shaking as you hold your weapon over your head, watching in fright as the silhouette of a figure appears from the dark.
Trembling with horror, your sound of being startled gets stuck in your throat — the figure is hunched up, seeing their hand tightly gripping the doorway, but even, when another sound of pain leaves their lips, you don’t feel any pity nor curiosity. “Stay back!” Your voice is not a loud or strong as you wanted it to be, realizing that your biggest fear became true. However it seems like you were not the only one startled….Their head tilts to you and you don’t have to see their eyes to know that they are looking at you. They slightly jump at your voice, like they weren’t expecting anyone to be here — no, you know better than that, but you pray that you won’t live up to their intentions with you.
They suddenly move — sharply, but not intentionally it seems like, because they nearly lose their footing while doing so. Though it makes you back away from them, mind stuck and you have to scream at yourself for waiting. Waiting — you wish you didn’t have to do that. Their hand leaves the doorway, balancing on air, their move also making them show their other hand. It was coated with the same substance as the floor, illuminating their palm, as they held it up in defense. “I am hurt–“ Their voice is rough, small cough leaving their lips and by the lower tone you realize they are a man. A man got into your house…
You raise your weapon higher, but something stops you from swinging it — he lets out a near sob. Like a reminder, the smell of the liquid rushes back to your nose and when your eyes slowly drift to his shoulder you see it…an outline of a wound, illuminated what you think might be blood. “Hurt?” You repeat in disbelief, eyebrows furrowing, stare not moving from his shoulder. You must be seeing things — this is a dream, it must be, because why are you actually believing that the fluorescent substance is blood. The fear of unknown makes you shake, backing away from him even when you seem to have the upper hand. You think you don’t want to why and what you are seeing right now.
He must realize you are only more frightened by the sight of his blood, but it doesn’t stop him from moving closer to you, his hand glowing in the darkness. “I am not here to hurt you…” He says softly, voice still broken with pain. His words don’t move you, don’t make you feel better — because he is slowly making his way towards you.
Backing away, each time you take a step, he only moves closer to you, your head whipping around in panic. You know that you can’t just bash his head right now — wake up from this nightmare, but you can only seem to able to cry in fright. “I said — stay back!” You scream at him, not fully convincing even yourself that you sound strong and confident. “I will call the police!” Your words are frantic and you are in shock that you are acting the worst way possible in this situation. You shouldn’t be talking to him, you should be running or fighting right now, but you are too frozen with fear.
Your feet hit the stairs again, almost falling over, making you look back. It was just that second, that was enough from him to step slightly into the light of the moon. You still can’t see his face properly, but you can make out the outline of his features and his glimmering eyes, staring right into yours. You both are so close to each other right now and that makes even him stop for a moment just to look at you. Your skin burns under his piercing stare, chest heaving, trying to keep up with your racing heart. He slightly towers over you, even with his hunched up figure, hands falling to his side in defeat as he lightly wobbles in his spot.
You have no where to go, you are completely caged — no, you could, you just…you just don’t want to somehow. You are too struck by everything, from his appearance to the way he really doesn’t seem to want to harm you. However you still can’t be so sure, but one thing that ease you a little is that he truly seemed to be in pain. Your eyes blink, seeing him in a new light, watching his shoulders moving harshly with his fastening breaths. The grip on your weapon loosens just a little, frowning when your eyes go back to his wound. You can see it better now and the thing that scares you the most is that it looks real — his blood is radiating, the color of a vibrant purple, leaking from the cut the more he breaths out.
You can’t breathe yourself for a moment, trying to see if this is the true reality you are experiencing. He is different — how much you still don’t know and it should scare you more than make you curious. “Y-your blood…” Your own voice is foreign to you, trailing your eyes over his body like you are trying to figure out where the lie begins. There is nothing however…he is real. Your words seem to wake him up from the trance he was in. Unknowingly to you — you weren’t the only some mesmerized by the sight in front of you.
“Don’t be scared, please-“ He breaths out, his plea ending in a whine. He doesn’t look away from you, but you can see the way the light in his eyes dims a little. His whole body starts to tremble, hands trying to steady himself. It happens so fast…His body stills, breathing shudders, eyes close and just like that, you don’t even have the time to feel startled as he falls down to the ground, completely motionless.
You stare at the spot he was once standing at and it was almost like his presence was still there right in front of you. Sigh leaves your lips, tasting the saltiness of the few tears you have shed. You should feel relief — relief that this man who broke into your home was laying unconscious on the floor, but your worries only grew bigger. His body hit the ground hard, move so unexpected that you still are trying to fully grasp all of what has just happened. Your head tilts down to his direction, lying down in the spot where the streak of moon light was the brightest. His longer, dark hair covers his face, chest softly rising, indicating that your problem only seem to become bigger, than you anticipated.
Should you call the police? Should you just leave him there? Let his open wound out in the air? Do you — are you really thinking about helping him? You don’t even know what or who you are dealing with, but still the reality that he might be something other than human being, starts to rise to the surface. You are defeated, putting down the baseball bat you held over your head, heart beating in your ears. In the light you can finally take a look at him — he was lean, but under his foreign attire you can make out desent amount of muscle that makes you realize that if he wanted to, he would have taken you down easily. Not to mention you still don’t know what he is…
Your own legs move before you can process it, walking closer to his body and to the small puddle next to him. You really should be running right now, calling for help, but it is like something is drawing you in. Behind the metallic smell, there is something sweeter — scent so interesting and intense that it makes you fall softly to your knees. You don’t tear your eyes away from him for a moment longer, eyes trailing over his jawline and features that are still covered by his hair, but the fluorescent light is too much for you to ignore it any longer. Looking down next to your feet, you now know that there is definitely nothing stopping you from grazing your fingers over the liquid — the only thing that should concern you is completely harmless right now.
You hesitate a little, wild thoughts running through your mind — it’s his blood, you are now completely aware of this reality, but you wonder if it might hurt you in a sense…Like from the movie Alien — unknowingly to you that word will change your whole life completely. Your fingers dip into the substance, withdrawing quickly like you are afraid it would burn you, but to your relief it doesn’t. Your fingers spread the glowing purple across your skin, it isn’t a dye, it isn’t a joke nor a lie. Soft gasp leaves you when from the corner of your eye you see him move, ready to jump back. However there is only a small whimper and a move of his head, hair sliding down his face, till you get a a small glimpse of his nose and lips.
“What…what are you?” You whisper to yourself and like he could hear you, his lips fall apart in a sigh that mixes with yours. You don’t know what to do, because you are still trying to understand everything, but the unknown is too big for you to decide. There are just two choices for you — either you call someone and let them take him away or leave him…right here with you. You feel so stupid that you are leaning towards the other.
Your head pounds, hands reaching towards him, fingers twitching. You still hope that this is a dream somehow, but when you graze your hands over his side, he is warm…he is real. You might regret this, but for now, you told yourself you did the right thing. You shuffle your way behind him, hands sliding down the floor, till they touch the underside of his armpits. The material of his jacket feels soft, but it shined like the most beautiful leather. You shake your head at your own thoughts — you have bigger problems than taking apart his appearance, though that is also a big thing. You sigh heavily through your nose, pushing away your curiosity to concentrate.
Your strength seemed to leave you the moment you heard him walking through your house, almost falling over as you try to pick him up. You can’t believe, you are doing this…Bracing yourself, your hands grip tightly at him, slowly rising to your feet with his upper body. Huffing, your head turns to watch your steps, dragging him over the floor to the direction of your living room. Your heart almost stops, when you hear him let out a small cry, as the tips of your fingers dig under his wound. It makes you look down at his face, but now the dark hides his features from you, yet again.
You ignore him — the best you could, telling yourself that you are actually really kind of not leaving him there on the ground to bleed out. The journey to your couch is short thankfully, but dragging him towards it made you use all of the strength left in you. You take a couple of few needed breaths of oxygen, breathing in each time you pull him. The soft carpet is like a kiss to your frozen feet, but it burns just a little, when you pull him closer to your chest. The scent of his blood hits your nose as well as the other one — sweeter, warmer, you fight the heat trying to creep up on your face as you realize it is his natural scent that smells like this. You tell yourself that it only wraps around your head, because you are pushing your strength to the limit, making you dizzy in the process.
With all of your strength, you let out a small cry as you pull him to the couch. You move out of the way of his body just barely, stumbling slightly as you go to push his feet on the cushion as well. You are thankful that you were quick enough to move, you certainly wouldn’t be able to shove his body of you right now. The adrenaline from before seemed to vanish a long time ago, but if it was present you don’t think it would make any difference in your strength. You are so tired…Huffing, you pull away from him finally, silently asking yourself if you should take his shoes off so he wouldn’t dirty your soft beige couch — you ignore it for now, eyes moving back to the spot on his shoulder.
In the still darkness, his blood is the only light in your living room, sighing softly to yourself at the gruesomeness. Your vision is slowly getting use to the darkness surrounding you and when it was enough, you slip past his body to the switch on the wall. You blink harshly at the sudden brightness, fingers digging into your eyes, but you don’t waste your time — hand reaching before you, blindly trying to touch your fridge. Just at that you come to feel how cold it is, your whole body shivering, goosebumps running up your arms. Your fingers touch the cold surface of the fridge the same second you finally open your eyes.
Your small reflection stares at you for a brief moment, black spot clouding your vision, but you don’t want to acknowledge the look of fright that seems to permanently lock on your features. Pushing yourself on your tippy toes, your hand reaches to the top, grasping the handle of your med kit. It is heavy, hand slapping back to your side, plastic bumping into the softness of your thigh. The pain is subtle, forgotten as you open the small box on the counter. You don’t even know how bad his wound is…and if it truly is bad you don’t think a disinfection and a bandage is gone be any help. Turning around to grab the scissors on your kitchen counter, the knife sitting at the corner blings at you.
You can’t help, but pause, thinking. He might be unconscious and hurt, but what if it is an act? What if he is faking it? Lying to you and waiting for the right moment to strike? Your face falls at your own thoughts, head turning towards his direction, but the racing thoughts seem to dissolve the moment you do so. You can see the top of his head so clearly now, black hair shining in the new light. You forgot about your own thoughts just that, grabbing your supplies quietly. Your eyes don’t move away from him, breath catching each time you get closer and the more skin you see and it is stops, when you come stand right in front of him.
Dark hair framing his soft features, stopping right at his sharper jawline — cheeks plump, just as his pouty lips that are parted with soft sighs. His eyelashes graze his cheekbones, reminiscing his glimmering eyes and the way the pierced through yours. He looks normal, in a sense, but also too perfect, skin is too clear and glowy…blood purple. You blink, eyes still wide and you lap lightly at the air around you. Even injured, his skin glistens, cheeks softly flushed with life and you definitely have to keep it that way — kneeling down by his head to look closer at his injury.
His jacket seems to cover most of it and you hope you won’t anger him for cutting your way in. You gently cut the fabric around his found, the material so dense your scissors almost break. You frown in small confusion, trying harder but each time the blades only get stuck — ‘What is this?’ In the light the fabric flickers in green and purple hues, almost like a fish’s scales. You have nothing sharp enough with you to cut through it, so it only leaves you to tug his jacket down his shoulder.
The material is stuck on his skin by his blood and you feel bad as he whimpers in pain. Though his eyes are still close, even when you gently lift him up to slide his jacket down his upper arm. The dried blood glows dimmer than the fresh one, a scab not letting you see the true damage. Grabbing the disinfectant and piece of cloth you pour the liquid into it, biting your lip at the sting he will feel. Your own hand shakes a little, sitting up on your knees so you are right infront his wound — and his face. The moment you dap a little at the wound with the cloth it twitches, but to your surprise there is nothing more than that. In small relief and confusion, you move your eyes back to his injury that slowly reveals itself.
It just a scratch — nothing deeper than that, but it is big. Maybe this wasn’t why he was hurting so much, because as you wipe away his blood that turns dark purple on the cloth, a bruise appears. You wonder how he got it…As you clean away the last bits of blood, your eyes catch the time on your clock — almost two hours, it already almost have been two hours since you woken up. It is still dark outside, but you know it won’t be long till the sun will rise. How fast can things change…You almost want to laugh in disbelief, shock and tiredness. You are more mentally tired than physically.
You work on his wound quietly, gathering your thoughts slowly. It is fascinating that even the tender skin around his wound is purple and not red like you are use too — you really are believing this. Maybe you have been locked away for too long, maybe you are just schizophrenic and this is all in your head. That would be too good to be true. He is real unfortunately for you and so different, though you still don’t know how much exactly. You are scared of the unknown, you are scared that he might be just lying to your face, trying to get you to treat him, just like you did, before he will strike. But his voice…the sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes blinked at you in plea and pain — you hope you are not digging your own grave with your kindness.
Placing the used cloth and scissors on the table behind you, your nose scrunches up at the alcohol staining your fingers. It burns your senses for a moment, taking few of those napkins you always keep on the table to wipe away the excess. Your eyes strain on the cloth with his blood, its slowly dimming light reflecting in your pupils that become larger as you feel sudden goosebumps raising all over your body. Small gasp gets stuck in your throat, your body reacting way before you hear a rustle of fabric behind you. The groan leaving him isn’t quiet like his sounds before, making you whip your head around, hand falling on top of the used scissors.
You are in shock — eyes wide, glaring at his figure while he starts to shift more in his place. His eyes blink softly open and you wonder what exactly had woken him up…was he even unconscious? You back away from him quickly, standing up to your feet in a jump, watching him raise his hand to his temple. “My head-“ His words end in a hiss, eyes blinking rapidly. You didn’t even have the time to check his head when he fell down, but to your small relief there is no blood staining his fingers.
Everything is moving to fast to your liking — hating the way you didn’t even have a split of time to think about everything that had happened. He is moving too fast, even when his movements are shaky with pain, you still point the scissors at him as he tries to sit up. “Don’t move.” You warn. Your voice cuts through the awful silence and it seems like he just now acknowledged your presence, jumping in his spot, widened eyes meeting yours.
For a second you swear you see his eyes flash purple, matching his blood that stained his jacket, but you are too caught up with trying him to stay still. It is for his own good — raising his hands in surrender, with his elbows supporting his weight, waving his hands in panic. “Okay! Just…can you put that down — please-“ His fingers points at your chosen weapon, lips parting in heavy breaths.
“No.” You say, both hands now grasping the scissors, like you were holding a gun. It is silly really, but somehow your threatening — self defense, is good enough for him to stop moving. You are surprised that he feels threatened by such small scissors, but it helps your body to slow in its shakes, standing crouched on your jelly legs.
“Wait, wait, I-I-“
“How did you come in?” You ignore his stuttering, raising your weapon higher at him, but then his face suddenly falls down, eyes flickering behind you.
“The front door was unlocked…” He says like it was the most normal thing — like it was your fault in the first place. Somehow it feels like it, heat gathering at your cheeks at the realization that you forgot to close the door in your tiredness. Your glare softens just a little, not because you feel sorry for him for whatever reason, however it seems like he thinks that, hands falling back to his side. “I got lost-“
“Lost?” You repeat, cutting him off. You did forgot about locking the door, but still it doesn’t justify him letting himself in. You however understand that the city is quite far, but what could he have been doing out here in the first place? “So you just let yourself in someone’s house?” You raise your voice, but to your surprise his eyebrows drew together in a frown of understanding, not fright like you were expecting. You really must look silly, standing before him in your teddy bear pyjamas, hair a mess and scissors pointing at him.
“I know.” He breaths out, looking ashamed, but not regretful. “I was hurt, I-“ His hands come to his chest, but at his own words he just at that feels the cool air on his exposed skin. His head tilts down to his shoulder, hand trailing over his chest to pull down his jacket that had ride back up. You don’t even register that he sits up with his movements, too shocked by the genuine look of gratitude on his face. “You treated me?” He whispers to himself mostly, fingertips trailing over the bandage on his shoulder.
“Barely…” You say, mimicking his tone of voice. ‘You woke up quickly’, you say to yourself, frowning a little. You are disappointed that you feel warmth by his genuine reaction, watching his blood stained hand squeezing in a fist when his other presses a little over the wound. His blood…purple and shining. Your lips fall apart, thoughts repeating the question that has been haunting, before it is finally being asked. “What are you?”
Your question hangs heavy in the room, hands falling down a little, when he turns to look at you. You didn’t even notice that the purple you saw in his eyes is wrapped around his irises — present, another small difference between you and him. He doesn’t look startled, like he expected, he would have to give you an answer the moment he wakes up, but you see the small hesitation in him. “I am like you- “ He says firstly, but you only shake your hand in disagreement.
“No, you are not.” You both look so alike — though the almost subtle differences are too great to be ignored. If you didn’t see his blood, purple and fluorescent, the flicker in his eyes, there would still be this…inhuman perfection. “I can see your…blood, it isn’t like mine, it is-“ You don’t have to say it out loud, but it does make it more real. You are blinded by your own thoughts, gasping lightly, because when you blink he is suddenly sitting upright right in front of you. How did you not notice him moving? You watch him let out a small groan, hand grasping the side of his head again, but you are too in shock not to panic a little. “Hey — stay back!”
He isn’t even doing anything, he seem to ignore the scissors pointed in his direction, because he realizes something — you are no threat to him, the only treat here is your mind trying to keep up with your heart. He looks you over, from your shaking hands to your frightened eyes, his face shows calmness like he is trying to make you mimick it, but it is really harder than it seems. “You are right, I am not like you.” You knew this yourself, but still hearing him say it — the way he said, it makes you shiver, tremble, standing before him completely frozen in expectation. “I came from far far away, from somewhere your mind can’t even imagine.”
Your breathing shatters — somehow you don’t think he wanted his words to come out the way they did, watching his features soften a little at your startled gasp. However he said the truth and there is no way which to put it to not make you feel less scared. Your world is slowly turning upside down before your very eyes and you hate you can’t do anything about it. He just appeared…”What do you want?” You breath out shakily and his still calmness doesn’t help you feel better.
He frowns at the choice of words. “What do I want?” He repeats, eyes flashing purple, while they scan your trembling body.
You are confused by his own confusion, taking a deep breath in, as your mind fills with every single possibility this could have ended in. “You could have…you could have hurt me when I was asleep, but you didn’t…” Your gaze meets his again, whisper leaving your chapped lips. “Why?”
“Like I said, I got…lost. I-” The word is heavy on his tongue, eyes drifting for a moment like he was contemplating something and when he turns back to you, you see it — the unnatural, purple light in his eyes. He watches you carefully, analyzing each small twitch in your face by each word that leaves his mouth. “My ship got hit by the shower and you were the only one near–“
You can’t hear anything, but the first half — a ship…hit by the meteor shower. The air around you becomes dense, head in daze, because his face doesn’t show even hint of a lie. It explains everything, it could, but the possibility of him being an — you can’t even say it. “A ship? You mean…a space ship?” Your voice is so quiet, you can’t even hear yourself between the ringing in your ears. He is silent still, only nodding to your question that you didn’t even need an answer to. “This is a joke-“ In your state, the scissors slip from your fingers, clacking loudly on the floor.
Your hands come to wrap around your arms, creating an awful excuse for a shield — you are mostly trying to shield yourself from the truth. You can see it, even taste it, but still you need to hear it from his lips. Seal the truth that will change your whole view of the world. “You were the one, who said I was different.” You don’t have to even nod to acknowledge his words, both of you are just waiting for the other — for you to accept it and for him to finally tell you what. The look of horror on your face doesn’t seem to faze him, but he does sigh, creating a small puff of mist before him. “Listen, I know how your humans can be and–“
“Humans?” You are stating it more than questioning it, you already know you are different from each other — separated by the stars, but you need him to say it out loud. “What — what are you then?”
The beat of silence is heavy and in that second pray to wake up from this nightmare, though you are only met with pair of unhuman eyes. “You, like your people, would call me an alien, a creature from another planet.” The truth — the unimaginable truth becomes real. However you can’t fight the denial and fear you still hold.
“No…” You breathe out shakily, hands coming to press against your eyes, even if you know they are not deseaving you. Your ears are not ringing, you heard him clear as a day, your fingers still smell faintly of the disinfection and his blood. You can’t believe it — your whole reality is changed right now. There truly is no denying it…Tears burn your eyes, still heavy with exhaustion and you can’t help, but let out a small cry. You don’t know what to do, the change is too great and too quick for you to handle. You don’t even know if you can truly trust him, because he is more than a man, who appeared in your home uninvited — his whole biology is different. So when your eyes are still close, body turn away a little, you are startled wildly by his voice that comes from the spot right beside you.
“Hey-“ You don’t hear the softness in his tone, nor see the look of concern — you can only see a galaxy reflecting in his eyes. The purple hue, the perfect skin and blushed lips…he is so uncanny in a sense, his moves so smooth and quick that your human self has hard time doing anything else but panic.
His hand is so close to touching you, so careful, yet it is so quick to your eyes. You flinch away before his fingers could even graze your skin, backing away. “Don’t touch me! You are crazy-“ You point at him, head snapping around your surroundings. You don’t want to face him no more, too emotionally drained to just take the truth as it is. Your loudness makes him show his hands in surrender, but you can’t even register what he is doing, taking careful steps back, like you are still debating where to go.
“Wait.” He sighs, but he can only watch your eyes widened as you turn back to him, before you turn swiftly around. “Wait — wait!”
You fear you should have done this way sooner, when you still had the chance…Your naked feet squeak across the polished floor as you dart away from him, cry of fear leaving you. You could have been far away right now, somewhere safe — somewhere you could only be left to wonder of his nature. You could have pretend that it was nothing, but your imagination, but no…you had to be curious, you had to know the truth. And now? Now you are running away like the biggest coward.
You don’t even know where to go, you just want to run away from him, from the responsibility to take in the truth. Your hand digs into the doorway, heart racing in your chest. The only place that could maybe make you feel safer is your bedroom, eyes lifting to the second floor, but just as you were about to run up the stairs you hear fast footsteps approaching you from behind. You only have time to turn your head, your small pause in your quick steps enough for him to close the distance between you two.
You don’t really think — when is hand comes to your shoulder, pressing down, you whip your hands out wildly. Your foot slips on the floor, his hand falling off you, but in your distress you grasp it yourself. Warm skin meets yours, your move too sudden for any of you to do anything other than stumble together down on the floor. A yelp leaves you, landing on your lower back harshly, while he lands infront of you on his knees groaning in pain. You ignore the piercing pressure, shuffling away from him to press your back on the opposite wall.
Your breathing is heavy, just like his and something stops you from picking yourself up again — you can’t run from it, you can only face it now. Watching him, he to your surprise only goes to lean back on the opposite wall to you, hand falling on top his shoulder. “Listen, I — shit–“ Sigh of pain leaves him, eyes still closed, letting you take another look at him.
He didn’t run to hurt you…he just wanted you to stop and listen. You did, but somehow only now it seems to be getting to you. Catching your breath, small specks of sweat gather at your hairline, mostly just from all the emotions you are experiencing. He really doesn’t look like a threat one bit — he looks rather…you can’t quite point it out. Your stare is unmoving from him, watching his hand come to press lightly at his now covered wound, but he withdrews it just as fast. “This isn’t happening…” You mumble, but your words don’t even have any meaning right now — more so, you are now only surprised that you are coming to slowly accept the truth.
“You know, what you saw–“ He says, eyes blinking at you, but they close again to focus on breathing through the pain.
An alien — a creature from another planet or even galaxy is right in front of you, looking so alike. There truly is no explanation for his blood or the shine in his eyes, he is just that much different from you and real. As your heart for the first time slows to a steady rhythm, your mind goes back to few hours ago. He looked more scared than you…hurt, pleading for you to treat him. Even he seemed to be surprised by your gesture, like he already excepted a different fate for himself. You did as well, you thought there would be already police by your door right now, taking him away — not treating him and caring.
You did wish for a change, but this? His words then echo in your mind. Why and what led him here and it makes your lips fall apart. “You were the one I saw in the sky.” You whisper so quietly, but he still does hear you and you swear you can see the memory of the falling meteor reflecting in his eyes. ‘My wish,’ you thought. His chest doesn’t move rapidly no more, nor there is a look of pain on his features, he is just calm and finally you feel yourself mirroring it.
His eyes go momentarily to your arms that held your legs tightly to your chest and he has to sigh at the expression you give him — there is still fear in you somewhere deep inside, but mostly you just look defeated and exhausted. “I won’t hurt you — can’t even if I wanted to-“
His sudden laugh is heavy in the silence that follows and his smile turns quickly sheepish at your small glare. “That doesn’t make me feel better-“ You say, frown prominent, not really finding this situation funny.
“Yeah, sorry-“
He then looks down to the wooden floor, hands clasping together over his lap and you think your staring might be making him a little skittish, but you are too caught up in taking apart his appearance to notice it fully. His pants seem to be from the same material as his jacket, that in the moonlight shows up in deep purple that reflects almost in neon green. Some of the light from the kitchen lets you see his face — so human-like, plump and full of life. If he truly is in such pain that he is expressing, his face doesn’t really show it. There is no wrinkle in sight, just soft looking skin. However till now you didn’t realize his tank top is almost see through, material so reflective you are only getting a small glimpse of skin underneath.
You blink — eyes catching his and you would almost feel embarrassed by your ogling if you didn’t just caught him staring too. You both twitch in your spot, gaze leaving each other for a second, before your words make your eyes meet again. “So, you really are an…alien. You are different from what I thought you guys would be.” You say truthfully and now you really almost want to laugh that you are using the one word in serious matter. Though he beats you to it again, the sound now sounding more genuine and not so dry, but it is still bold, considering you were just few minutes ago refusing to believe his nature. Changes really come in quick…
“Yeah, I know the stories of your kind and your way of interpreting us — though there are some with such resemblance.”
You tilt your head at him, curiousness basically radiating from you. You can’t lie that you weren’t curious before — though you just hope, you won’t regret it. “Some? There are more of you?” You question.
“Well…you actually didn’t believe, you were the only ones up there,no?” That makes you a little embarrassed. Not because you didn’t believe, but because most of people on this planet did — believing they were center of everything. However after some time, you really couldn’t help, but feel this way a little as well. You weren’t a believer, but also not an sceptic, you always wanted to be proven wrong and now? You are talking to one of them, a real one, not an imagination or a character from a movie.
“How do we look so alike?” You exclaim, eyebrows furrowing. His blood and eyes seem to be the only main difference you can spot, but the look he sends you tells you there still might be something there — but both of you know you are not ready for that yet.
“Trust me, we are not alike…” Shaking his head, his tone turns a little deeper at the end, eyes turning a darker purple, but by an blink of an eye it is gone, leaving you to wonder if you didn’t just imagine it.
Small silence fills the space between you two, fingers digging inside your palm in a small thought. You are thankful that he isn’t talking till you are, but you can’t lie that his move to grasp you helped you take down the walls around you. His eyes stare to the spot next to you, hands clasped together in waiting, but he himself looks in deep thought. You realize that is mostly to dull out the pain in his shoulder — your eyes trail over your amateur job and just a sliver of fluorescent purple shines through. “So-“ You start off, your own voice surprising you, but you do continue, gaze meeting his yet again. “You really don’t want to-“ You trail off, there is no need for you to finish.
“I won’t hurt you.” He says slowly, promise vibrant in his words, making relief wash over you. “To be honest, I think you kind of have a upper hand here-“ He is still trying to lighten up the mood — you wonder if it is just him or his nature, but it does help. It makes this whole situation a little less crazy, if that’s even possible. Silence doesn’t stretch out too long, because the sound of little footsteps nears you two, before there is the familiar sound of a purr.
You nearly forgot about your cat, but you are even more surprised that he doesn’t seem to be phased by your sudden company. He didn’t even showed up, till now, like he was waiting as well. Your next breath gets stuck in you as your cat paddles across the floor to stop next to the man before you. You can only watch in shock, as he lightly grazes his fingers across the creature’s fur, small smile playing on his plump lips. “Huh, you have a cat–“ He states, watching the fluffy ball disappear around the corner, after few scratches. “Hope it’s not a Flerken.”
“A what?”
“You don’t want to know.” He shakes his head in your direction, but his gaze still carefully analyzes your cat’s movements, before there is only you two alone again.
The distant clock in the kitchen clicks too loudly almost, as you try to gather your racing thoughts. There is so much you want to ask — but there is so little that is important right now and so much your body can handle. It is a lot, everything, but you know you can’t just leave without some of your question being answered. “Where is your ship?” You ask, reminiscing the what you can now be certain was his ship, falling down the sky.
Your question seems to only make a weight fall on his shoulders, sighing tiredly, hand coming to press against his temple. “In the forest, ruined…” He explains to you softly.
Suddenly you realize something at his words, gasping so loudly it echoes. “You — you have to run, someone definitely knows you are here-“ You don’t know since when you started to care so much about his well being, but one thing you will stand for is that no one deserves to be locked away — to be experienced on. The thought makes you sick to your stomach, even if you just met him, even if you just accepted him and what he is. Your heart beat picks up, stilling in your spot, but to your surprise he only waves a hand at you in resurement.
“Your technology is too out dated to pick up on ours.” He explains, making your tense muscles loosen a little, not really picking up on the remark. “No one knows about me other than you…”
That hits you harder than it should — it still leaves you in a state of fright. What are you supposed to do? One thing you remember your aunt telling you was that you should live in the present and not worry about the future. However that is the hardest thing for you, with having so much time, with being so alone…not anymore. You look at him through your eyelashes, seeing him in the dim light taking a look at his treated wound, fingers carefully grazing over the white bandage. “Does it still hurt?” You ask, true concern in your tone and he is the one mostly surprised by it.
His hand falls back to his lap, stare leaving his arm to look at you again — you shiver every time he does that. “It is better, thank you…I am just tired-“ The same words keep circling your mind as well, however you are the only one who looks the part. You feel so exposed with his piercing eyes, but you are still not sure if the feeling that it leaves in your tummy is good or not. “What’s your name?” Your mouth just opens for a moment at his question, but the genuine curiosity in his eyes, melts the small hesitation away.
“Y/N.” You say.
“Y/N…” He repeats and you swear you hear a foreign sound rumbling at the back of his throat. He whispers your name so it stays, before he gives you his with his hand outstretched to you. “I am Han.” You repeat his name as well, but silently in your own mind. You are too flabbergasted by his hand, that is outstretched into your direction. Seeing you not take it, makes his small excitement of getting to know your name shatter. “Oh — you don’t shake hands?” He wonders out loud, hand falling back to his side.
You shake your head quickly, trying to not upset him. “We do, I just-“ You shrug, trailing off, not really knowing what to say, but he beats you to it.
“You dont want to touch an alien.”
You hear the hurt in his voice, but can you really say no to his statement? You mostly don’t want to touch someone you just met under all these circumstances — it didn’t matter if he was an alien or not. “I already did — basically.” You say, not really finding the need to lie and make him feel better, but seemingly it does make the tension in shoulders loosen a little.
“Right…” Han trails off, turning his head away from you, lips moving in silent words which you quite can’t make out. When he turns back to you, you are startled by the look of sadness. “I know you don’t want me here…so I will be going-“ You are speechless for a second, watching him sit up to his knees. Just hour ago he begged you to help him and you did, but you just didn’t expect him to leave so soon. Where would he even go? Does he even know earth? Does he know how to mask himself as a human being? That shouldn’t be your concern really, but he literally fell into your life so suddenly — he completely changed it so quickly, that you don’t want him to go.
Han, just barely makes it up to his feet, hands grasping tightly onto the wall next to him, while you lean into his line of sight. “Wait, you are still hurt and I can help you if you need it.” It seems like he was only testing you or just making sure that your silent kindness wasn’t just a form of panic, because almost instantly his body slumps against the wall in relief.
“Thank you.” Turning back to you, as you slowly stand up to your own feet, Han’s eyes shine so brightly in the soft light of the moon — so thankful and so greatful. “You are kind for a human and a woman-“
“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, taken back by such words, but again they are not answered.
“I will tell you later…” He says. Later — he really is making himself comfortable fast. You are surprised he isn’t opposed to this, but what else can he do? His ship is ruined from what he told you, hurt and too tired to keep going further where there would be only danger ahead of him. He really trust you enough to not tell anyone…and you won’t, but still — isn’t this maybe too immature for him to do? You stand before him, not as close as before, but close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. It’s something you are not used to. In your small trail of thoughts, you don’t realize your glaring eyes, but you do notice how his adam’s apple moves a little “Do you have some water?”
You can almost hear how dry his throat is and without a word you slip by him to make your way to the kitchen and then you smell it again — the sweetness, that wraps around your senses. It makes you see blurry, not necessarily in a physical way, it was like you were blinded for a split moment, but it disappears just as quickly. You don’t have to turn around to see him behind you, his loud, familiar footsteps give him away right away. It is slightly unsettling, not used to feeling another presence next to you, maybe you needed this — maybe you are the one being saved.
You make your way to the cupboard, grabbing a tall glass, before you turn to your sink to fill it with tap water. It is quiet for that part, seeing from the corner of your eye how he goes to sit down on one of the stools next to the kitchen island. He is in full light now and even if you already did look at him, you can’t seem to get enough. There is just something about him…Turning around, you don’t even fully place the glass on the table before he takes it from your hands, fingers grazing over yours and you blame it on his alien-self as you feel a shiver going up your spine at his touch. He seems to be thirsty — teeth clinking a little on the glass, head rolling backwards to drown the water as soon as his body allows him to.
His throat bobs, streak of water rolling down his skin, your eyes falling the movement unconsciously. The water is gone fast, deep satisfied sigh leaving him, eyes shining in thankfulness. Placing your elbows on the table before you, you don’t particularly meet his gaze, too much in thought — too much to say. “How can you even understand me?” You voice out your thoughts, small frown on your features. He speaks you so fluently, like any other person on this planet. Was he a liar? Because you really can point out any more differences between you…maybe you are not just in the right situation quite yet.
For your answer he firstly tilts his head to you, hand brushing away the long strands hair from his skin, revealing a small circle device behind his ear. “This–“ He taps it lightly, making it flicker. “But your language is actually well known among us — that’s why I am able to speak with you without any problem-“
“Really?” Almost childish curiosity shines in your face, but you are too tired to fight it. “Have you are met someone like me before?”
Han’s lips lift slightly at the corners, shaking his head softly. “No, I have never met someone like you before actually…” He trails off, eyes looking around briefly. “So…you will let me stay then?” He is nervous — scared maybe.
“Depends, will I really not be in trouble?” You ask, truthfully. “I don’t want to be locked away and be experienced on-“ You mean it mostly in a different way then he thinks, not realizing fast enough the double meaning in your words, but surprisingly he doesn’t take it to his heart, only finding amusement.
“You definitely don’t have to worry about that.” He reassures you, fingers taping on the empty glass as an unknown emotion flashes in his eyes. “No one knows…I will be here, till I get better, I promise.”
“Will you erase my memory after?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing…” You mumble and you nearly laugh at yourself — you just can’t help it. This is still so unbelievable, your body tired enough to maybe still be able to convince you that this is only a dream. Resting your head in the palm of your hand, you watch his fingers trailing over the rim of the empty glass for a moment. No one other than you touched it in so long…nothing other than a human. You wonder — you know that if he would be any more different from you, it would have all ended up differently. Maybe he is still hiding, being kind enough to not scare you more than you already are. That wouldn’t be kind to your hostesses…
“Thank you…do you have some spare clothes, I could borrow?” You don’t know how much the material on his body is uncomfortable, but you nod in understanding nonetheless.
“Of course, I will take a look later-“ A small cough leaves you.
“Thank you.” Again.
“Right…” You roll your weight on your feet a little, before your eyes trail over to the clock — it is almost sunrise. You feel exhausted, but you don’t think you can fall asleep quite yet. Han looks the same as you, but there are no dark circles like on your face that could indicate his exhaustion. It is just a feeling. You don’t even know for how long he has been lost in the woods, how many times he was close to giving up before he saw your house. He walked in because there was no place for him to go and now he chooses to trust you. He must be so far away from his home…Your back straightens up, head turning to look out the window behind you. “Are you hungry?” It is still so late — or early, but your question is thankfully answered with a sigh.
“A little.”
You don’t ask anymore, turning around to make your way to the fridge and find something that could satisfy his foreign tastebuds. The air in the fridge is no different from the one in the room and not even goosebumps rise one your skin as you grab the small bowl of eggs that needed to be eaten. There surely can’t go nothing wrong with that…You don’t want to second guess your pick, knowing he also knows so little about what food he can eat. If he doesn’t like it, you won’t take it to your heart, not when you are moving on the last bits of energy left in you.
Placing the bowl next to the stove, you bend down to the sliding drawer to pick up a pan. Your moves aren’t too frantic, but in the awful silence, the clinking sounds of the pans smashing against each other makes you cringe. “Sorry, I don’t usually have guests-“ You don’t even know exactly for what you are apologizing for, pouring small bit of oil in your chosen pan, before you turn the stove on.
“Definitely not someone like me.”
“Definitely…” You say, but your voice lacks the playfulness his has. You just grasp how silly this all is — you are literally cooking scrambled eggs for an alien right now. The reality is still bizarre to you, as well as your communication skills it seems…”Do you live far — I mean-“
Your eyes become wide in embarrassment, turning your gaze from your cooking to him — he is watching you so closely, hands clasped on the table, small innocent smile on his lips. “I know what you mean and yes.” He says, not making fun of you to your delight.
You try to flash him a small smile as well, you really do, but you are still in a state where you think it is not appropriate to do so. Placing the last empty shell into the bowl, the sound of the sizzling eggs fills the kitchen. Your spatchula hovers over the yolks, vibrant and yellow like the sun and the sight makes you look up to the window before you. The stars seem so different now — at least in their meaning. Your head turns back to him, swirling blindly the eggs in the pan as you are met with the same unmoving stare yet again. “How is it?” You ask firstly. “Being up there in space…millions of possibilities.”
The way you said it is so dreamy, full of wonder and like you, his eyes move towards the window, however there is no warmth like you expected there to be. “It gets boring after a while.” Han confesses and can’t help, but frown.
“I can’t imagine that.” How can it be? You are stuck in one place only, while he can go anywhere he wants — it is almost poetic.
“When you don’t know where your true home is, it is hard to feel any sort of happiness…” You still at his broken tone and you feel worst that he looks like he has already excepted this truth. He is more lost then he lets out — you understand him so greatly. “My planet is just a dump…” He mumbles, gaze falling to his hands.
“How so?” You ask, turning off the stove.
“We don’t have…” His eyes meet yours again, seeing a small blush covering his cheeks, voice becoming small — his cheeks are red. “-many women left on our planet.” He explains, like that is the cause of his planet’s doom — you do understand why, you really do, but it makes your chest fill with this sudden warmth that only intensifies at his eyes.
“Oh…” You don’t really know what to say to that information, choosing to occupy yourself with finding the most perfect plate for his not so perfect scrambled eggs. However it seems like you aren’t the only one lost for words.
“You are the first human I have ever seen.”
He only made this situation more awkward, but you swallow it down — this is different and even if his words are mostly making himself embarrassing, you have to remind yourself that he is from another planet. Though you feel just a bit exposed under his purple eyes, while your tongue comes loose from between your teeth. “And?” You ask, turning around, with a steaming hot plate in your hand, placing it before him, but even hunger doesn’t make his gaze move away from yours. “What do you think?”
You catch his eyes trailing over your figure at your question — wide in wonder, but whatever he wanted to say first disappears as he stops to stare at your face. “From what I gather you are kind — vicious a little and I understand why.” His smile isn’t visible, but it is heard in his voice, that becomes quieter at his next words. “Though most information about your kind says that if we ever encountered you, you would kills us with no hesitation or worse-“
“I know-“ You sigh softly, apologetic look on your face. “I am sorry about that — I won’t tell anyone that you are here, don’t worry…besides you could almost blend in, almost…” You whisper the last word, stepping closer to him, pushing his plate more towards him, but even that action doesn’t move his stare away from yours. “Is it only your blood that is different or- “ It is maybe an intimate matter, but you think you have the right to ask this.
“There is a lot about me that is different…it is just not the appropriate situation to show you.” He explains to you, leaving you to wonder in what exact situation you will have to get yourself into to find out.
“Alright…” You push his plate even closer to him, clasping your hands together, only to realize something, just as he leans down to take a whiff of the food. “Oh, wait. I forgot the-“ Your words die on your tongue, not even having proper time to turn to the drawer filled with utensils, because he digs his fingers in the food just like that…
Hum leaves him, lips closing around his fingers, savoring the taste of the food you made for him. You are standing before him in shock, gaze unmoving from the way he is stuffing his face. “It is good — what is it?” He asks, mouth full as his hand before he shoves another portion inside his mouth.
“Just eggs?” You trail off, because you are certain you have never seen someone so eager for some scrambled eggs before — you would already feel sick to your stomach by now.
Your answer makes him pause, eyes falling down to the plate. “What kind of eggs?”
“Chicken?” What else you are supposed to say? Though he only seemed to stay in thought for a bit longer, before he starts to eat again, but now atleast without scaring you with a choking hazard. You know you are watching him maybe too closely, not even phased by his eyes traveling towards you as well. His plate is nearly empty, looking over your bloodied, puffy eyes that are barely open — you don’t really feel how tired you truly are, because for the first time you don’t want to fall asleep and wish. Wish from something to change. “You can go back to sleep if you want.” Han says, wiping his mouth onto his sleeve.
You blink at him, flinching a little at his voice that seem to be louder than it actually is. “No, it’s fine-“ You wave your hand at him, but doing so, your mouth falls open in a yawn, that you are not quick enough to cover.
“No, please. I am tired myself.”
You nod, because that is maybe the only convincing you need right now — nothing will change, while you will go back to sleep. The plate would be still here, the medkit and the blood stains. You truly are too tired to make something about all of those things, you think you did enough for now. “Okay.” You nod, hands swinging by your side in thought. Maybe you shouldn’t be this trustworthy…he is still a man. The thought of leaving him to sleep on the couch is big, but he is hurt — truly tired just like you and you yourself wouldn’t like to spend your time sleeping on the hard cushion. However you don’t even think you would able to fall asleep anyhow, so you just decide to gesture to the direction of the door. “Follow me, I have a spare bedroom you can take…”
Han only nods, sliding off the stool to follow in your steps that lead to the stairs. You can’t help, but eye the baseball bat momentarily — still sitting by the wall, ready to be used if necessary. It won’t be, something reassures you that it won’t. You pass by it, the pool of purple blood still fresh and full of light, but even that doesn’t make you flinch anymore. You are too focused on the soft breath fanning over your neck. He is close to you, mimicking your each move, like he didn’t want to do anything to possibly startled you, but that somehow does it. It is so unhuman the way he is so good at acting like you.
You can feel your muscles straining in your thighs and the small burn in your lungs, when you take the last step to the second floor. Your whole body screams for you to lay down, though yours mind doesn’t let you. Your stop seem to be a little sudden to him, because he almost bumps into your back, but you are quick enough to move away, just a small fan of his breathe blowing away the loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “Here-“ You say, gesturing to the door next to you. Your hand wraps around the handle, opening the old, wooden door, stepping a little to the side to let him take a look inside. “In the big closet there should be some clothes for you.” He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge your words, but you now he is listening. Your eyes travel behind his shoulder to your own bedroom and you don’t even have time to think about your next question. “Is it okay with you, if I-“
“You want to lock me up…” Han says for you, glancing at your face of surprise and regret.
“Sorry….”
“I know this is a lot.” He says, eyes moving between yours, head tilting to your level. “But I promise you, I won’t hurt you — I have no reason to do so.”
That makes you quiet, eyes going to the floor under your feet. He is so understanding — more than most of the humans you have met. He is still standing before the open room, waiting for you. You are abashed, not knowing what to do and really, could there be any situation that could prepare you for this? A creature for another planet, so alike yet not, deciding that even with your differences and behind the possible consequences, it was worth it. Looking up at him, for the first time you send him a smile, feet shuffling under you. “I will be down the hall if you need me.” Is the only thing you say, before you slip past him to make your way to your own bedroom.
“Thank you, Y/N.” Han says, staring at your distancing figure. His warm voice travels through the cold air, tickling your ears. Your face softens at his tone, stopping by your door to take a one last look at him before your body collapses in exhaustion.
“Of course.” You whisper back, eyes locking onto his, sweet smell wrapping around you, almost calling for you to stay a little longer to maybe see more, but your exhaustion at the end wins, walking inside your bedroom. The door behind you shuts by itself, sheets still cold as you remember, but you can taste the difference in the air. You reminisce, not even dream, just listening closely till you hear the sound of his doors closing as well. He is real — everything. He will be there when you wake up, it maybe won’t be so empty after all…By choosing to not lock his door, you also unknowingly chose to not lock yourself away from the changes that will come crumbling your way. Your prayer was heard from the skies after all…
────
To your own surprise you did fall back asleep — it was short, but needed, letting all of your emotions melt away for atleast a moment. However in your dreams, your thoughts don’t leave you, memory of his face haunting you and your mind seem to not want to let him go even when you woke up. You could feel his presence everywhere, even if he was few walls away — it was mostly, because you knew, he was out there waiting for you, an alien. You accepted the truth better than you expected, because there was no denying no more. Everything really happened, though you decided to move around your house like you always did, just barely glancing to the closed door as you went downstairs. His blood was still there — even your bat, open medkit and used cloth, scissors lying on the floor and even the empty plate on the kitchen counter. You cleaned it all without a second thought, mind flashing with memories and everything, but when you were all finished up, it was like nothing even happened.
The first day spend with him was quiet, going out of his room in the middle of the afternoon, movements so silent you let to let out a frightened gasp, tripping little over your front doorstep. You were too caught up at trying to catch up on your chores, that you actually did nearly forgot about him. He was standing there in your open doorway, hair fanning over his features. The shirt after your late uncle hanged over his body loosely, black t-shirt tugged in some dark work trousers — he almost looked normal, if it weren’t for his eyes, brighten by the sunlight. They are mostly dark brown, but the purple was so prominent against the sun that you can feel the vibrant color burning your skin. He looked better, rested at least and a small awkward silence passed by before he surprised you by asking you if you needed help. You can’t remember the last time someone asked you that. He was just being nice, but still it — it send an unknown emotion to your chest at his gesture. So you let him…Hands fumbling with the rake you gave him, seemingly eager to please, but not confident anyhow, mimicking your movement the best he could. It made you smile in amusement, something you rarely did in these days, watching him work, but your eyes still stopped at his shoulder.
It didn’t seem like he was in pain anymore, which send you a wave of relief, but after few tries of him trying to help you, you took the rake away from his hands. You remember the small sound of disappointment, though he stayed quiet then, just watching you. He did that a lot — maybe trying to learn from you to mask himself better as a human, you are not so sure. You have a feeling it is just that…looking. After a while you realize that his presence really did help you. You weren’t in your own world that much, finally fully present. You were seeing him get used to your presence as well, lips parting more and more as hours turned by, till they slowly turned into days. For the first time in a while you were actually excited for another day, because every time it would bring something new.
He didn’t talk about himself a lot, like he didn’t actually found himself interesting, but you held on any new information he let slip by. From mentioning his journey across the galaxy, to telling you about animals which reminded him of yours. Han didn’t leave your side once, he was like your second shadow. You came to love the differences you once feared, drowning more and more each time you would look into his eyes. After his failed first mission of trying to help you, he surprised you by no giving up — even when he was clumsy with just walking behind you, even if he feared the small chickens running around — you lightly laughed at his face of horror, when you told him that the eggs he ate come from them.
He was almost like a new born baby in a sense and you wonder what did it take for you to take care of a lost alien. Though you do know exactly what…Han spend most of his days with you, but you did always caught him staring in amazement at all of the animals in your farm. It is mesmerizing that even after his journeys, there still was enough room for something new. At the end of the first few days, you just parted your ways after dinner, not staying longer than necessary — scared that you would ruin this sense of peace, but you didn’t. The more you spend time with him, the more you found even yourself trailing after him, hungry for his presence.
You liked the way he smiled every time you would show him something new, you liked how he didn’t shy away from your touch when you would accidentally brush your hand over his — you realized quick that you are starting to like him. You immediately blamed it on yourself, telling yourself that you are just touch starved, which you kind of are, but also he is one to blame as well. You don’t know if oblivious comes natural to him or if it just something with his species, because he really refuses to let go of you. It was firstly nerve racking, with being look at so closely, but now it only made you think these wild things.
Every time you would stop abruptly, his chest would press against your back, hand grasping your upper arms and even if his mouth opened in small apology, it fell to deaf ears, because these things start to happen more and more. When you would go cook something, he would always lean over your body to fill a glass of water — he once said his thirst and hunger are quite different from yours. It drives you crazy, because it happened so much, yet he always had an excuse. Maybe he was just clumsy, maybe not, but his accidental touch made goosebumps rise all over your body. But because he was always so close to you, you didn’t really pick up on one that one thing firstly and it was his scent.
Han seems to smell like the most sweetest flower in a garden. The fragrance that followed him everywhere seemed to burn your nostrils already, but every time when you were finally alone you could smell the small breeze. It stained you from the inside, it didn’t even go away when you would go to wash your hands — they still remember him. You were so used to it, that you didn’t think much of it, because you thought of it as something that comes as another difference between you two. But you did notice another smell coming from him and it was right after a long day of work.
Both of you were covered in sweat, breathing heavily and you didn’t waste any time before hopping under the shower head, leaving him in the kitchen. However when returned he was still there, waiting for you to make dinner — that is maybe the one thing he refused to do, mostly because he was scared, he would poison both of you. You walked past him without a second thought, but then you smelled the bitterness coming from him, making your face scrunch up a little. “Did you take a shower?” You asked, not harshly, but then you notice the obvious embarrassment on his face.
By that you learned that he not even once took a shower since he had been here. You don’t feel disgust towards him, because it was maybe your fault, but also the only time when he finally tear himself away from you was when he went to sleep. So after short dinner, you lead him to the bathroom right next to your bedroom, shoving him inside without a second thought, making your way to your room to lay down, feeling your eyes becoming droopy. Though after a while you didn’t hear anything — not once the water had been turned on. You nearly drift way, not necessarily waiting for him to be done, but you realize you didn’t even cover yourself in your duvet. Maybe you were finding excuses to see him again, but some time passed since he got in the bathroom, making concern wash over you. Oh, how this move changes your entire view of him…
Getting off your bed, you made your way to the bathroom, ears still pricking and trying to hear atleast something. However when you stopped before the door you didn’t decide to knock — no, like a creep you come to press your ear to the door, but as soon as you put your weight into the wood, it swinged open. You froze in your spot, shock filling you, matching his. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out, wide eyes sliding over his exposed chest. He is mascular, way more than you expected — you don’t think you have ever seen a body like that before. His skin had zero blemishes and you can’t help but stare at his clenching stomach, slim waist rolling to your direction.
Han doesn’t move firstly, standing in the shower, hand on the wall — atleast he had his pants on, you would have already melted down the drain yourself otherwise. In your state of shock, you caught just briefly something purple behind his back, but as gasp leaves you, sight going to same the spot it was gone by a blink of an eye. “I am sorry-“ You breathe out, almost uncharacteristic squeak leaving you, as you just now realized you were still standing at your spot, though the embarrassment creeped up to you fast, making you turn your back to him.
“No, wait!” Your breath shattered at his words, heat filling you as you turned back to look at him, but to your own surprise your eyes stay on his. “Where is the button?” He asks you.
“Button?” You frown, looking around him, accidentally letting your eyes drag down again.
He let out a small breath, before gesturing to the shower next to him. “How do you turn this on?” He said slowly and your lips part a little — maybe that is also why he didn’t ask you where the bathroom is, because he knew…he just was too embarrassed to ask you how to turn the shower on.
“Oh-“ Left your lips, watching his cheeks darken a little. You don’t know what possessed you really, you could have told him how from your spot — but you chose to walk up to him to show him instead. Maybe it is better for him to understand…yes, that is why you have done it. Stopping just before the tub, his body towered over you more than usual, eyes falling on the tiles rather than his exposed body. He is so warm — you can still remember the heat radiating from him, arm grazing over his as you wrapped your hand around the faucet. “Here.” Your voice is less than a whisper as you found the strength to meet his eyes. “You move this left for cold water and right to warm-“ Was he even listening to you? You don’t know if you even heard yourself, words becoming a mush. “This is propably good…”
Without thinking you pulled on the tap, water immediately coming from the shower head. The water hit his head firstly, leaning forward on an instinct, hair coming to stick over his neck. You couldn’t breathe — you watched his eyes fall shut, letting you take a look at how the water glided down his chest, damping the waistband of his pants, his hat hanged low over his lean hips. It is been so long, too long and could you really blame yourself for looking and enjoying the show? The same water that tasted his skin, fell on you as well, hand on the faucet accidentally sliding to the right.
“Shit-“
You gasped, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, shutting the water off immediately. Han touched the top of his head, small hiss leaving him and your heart stopped at the steam filling the space around you. “You okay?” Your breathing was heavy and you felt your fingers tingling from the sight infront of you. He breathed out a long sigh, head rolled back, letting you slide your eager eyes over his exposed neck.
“Yeah.” He responded, huffing through his nose, before his head tilted back down to you. “That was just too hot for me…”
“Sorry.” You mumbled, teeth wrapping around your lower lip, but that move wasn’t left unnoticed. His eyes flashed purple, staring at your softly bitten lips. He was the one the most exposed, but at that moment you felt like he could see right through you — see how fast your blood was rushing through your veins. You sharply gasped, tearing your eyes off him completely. What are you doing? You had to shake your head at yourself, turning to lightly tap at the faucet. “Here…“ You didn’t even know what to say exactly in this situation. You can still remember how, not just the water, made the air around you hot.
You saved yourself from further embarrassment by running away — you literally bolted out of the bathroom, door slamming shut behind you. You overstepped, but you didn’t mean to...though maybe still trying to listen through the door wasn’t a good idea to do also. But, why wasn’t he angry at you? Why was he looking at you like that? His eyes made you stop every time, so piercing you think he already knows you inside out. Those other times when he would accidentally touch you were different…then why did this made you realize how intimate his every touch was? You are starting to lose your mind, bottling up so much emotions, you know that they are slowly bubbling to the surface.
It was quiet the whole night after that, mind swirling, but you always seem to get back to the memory of his exposed body. You are a mess and that moment seemed to mostly take an effect on you, because Han acted like nothing happened — he also probably could taste the difference in your energy, deciding to stay quiet. Though you can still see it on his face, you remember the look of surprise, melting into something softer and you feel your chest tightening at the memory even right now.
The soft wind of the night flows around you, tangling your hair, strands kissing your cheekbones. The cold which you were so used doesn’t leave you in a sense of dread like it always did — it doesn’t highlight the fact you are lonely, because now there is warmth next to you. It leans ever so slightly towards you, breath creating mist before you, mixing with your own. You are closer than ever, but now there is no surprise, just the present. Your head is tilted up to the sky, eyes traveling through the its lights. You both are sitting on the small old swing on your porch, your red blanket draped lightly over his own purple one — how funny, till no you didn’t notice the meanings behind a simple color.
Tonight you didn’t separate your paths — he asked you to stay and watch. Han wanted to bath in your presence a bit longer, at a time you only once spend together…and that was when you first met. It seems so long ago right now, just the past. A small shuffle of fabric comes from your side, unconsciously gripping the glass in you hand tighter when you feel his breath on your cheek, hand coming into your field of view. “There.” He says, pointing up in the sky. “I am from that star.” Your eyes flicker to the tip of his finger, but as you glance back at him you become lost in the sea of stars reflecting in his eyes.
He is so close to you — breaths mixing together. “Which one?” You ask, wanting to turn back around and look, but you are struck. Your lips part as you feel his hand sliding to grasp yours, turning instantly to gaze at his hand on top of yours. You can feel him leaning closer, just barely and you know that if you would ask him about it, he would just blame it on wanting to show you his home more clearly. His hand is soft, fingers long, wrapping lightly over wrist as your gaze meets the tip of his finger to the many stars next to each other — there is a sudden feeling inside you. It is familiar, so much — stare stopping at the one light in the sky that shines the brightest.
It looks so close, but you know that it isn’t. You can’t even imagine what it is like to travel through space, so many different worlds were hidden right before your eyes the whole time. His hand releases yours, falling back to his lap, but you don’t feel your chest tightening like it usually did. It is because he stays close to you, you do not feel the awful cold feeling. “Do you miss it?” You ask. He didn’t tell you much, but from what he had, you didn’t see a reason why he would want to stay here.
Earth is different from any other place he went to before and you just can’t help but feel conflicted, because who would want to stay here? Maybe if he decided to disappear — to see the true beauty of your planet, not just your small home, you think he would like it. However you were so wrong…Han turns to you, watching the light of his home reflect in your eyes. “No, like I said it gets boring.” You hear his words, but you can’t quite understand them. How could anyone feel bored running through the galaxy? He isn’t stuck here, like you are, but as you glance at him, you remember his words — it is hard to feel happiness when you don’t know where your true home is. “I have never actually felt this…good.” Han continues, small smile making its way to his flushed lips. “You are really good.”
The compliment warms you from inside, eyes drifting away from his to stop yourself from drowning in them. You feel honered almost, because you are proving something wrong — something he always thought wouldn’t change. Maybe that is why he couldn’t leave you alone, he wanted to maybe prove himself that is all nothing, just another stop. But then in the maze of your sweet thoughts, realization falls over you…He didn’t leave you once and when he did it was always to go to sleep. You never once saw him leave, making you wonder if he has been to his ship even once since he walked into your life. You completely forgot his small promise, as he never mention his ship after that, not even once. However, unknowingly to you Han does notice your small pause and before you can even let out a single syllable, he comes to take your attention away again.
“What is that?” He asks you, question so sudden that confusion blinds you, eyes falling to the full glass in your hands, which he pointed to.
“Wine.” You answer, red liquid splashing slightly with the movement of your hands. “I didn’t know if you wanted some-“
He shakes his head softly, cutting you off. “That’s okay.” You can see the small frown on his face as he keeps looking at the glass in your hands. It is not in disgust, but more in curiosity.
“You want to try?” It seems like he waited for you to offer, because soon he turns his body to face you properly.
“Sure.” His hand brushed over yours too many times that you lost your count, but now as he takes the glass from your hands, his fingers trace over the rim — just where your lips once were. Maybe you are looking to close to it, or maybe you are just aware. You watch him lean over the glass, swirling around the liquid and the sweet scent, that to your surprise makes him frown. Glancing back at you, he eyes you carefully, mouth opening firstly, not ready to speak just yet. “Is this an aphrodisiac?”
A startled noise gets stuck at the back of your throat, small confusion and shock filling you. “W-what?” You are speechless, staring at him with big eyes, while his form into slits.
“It smells like it-“ He tries to explain to you, but you quickly shut his lips with the wave of your hand, feeling your face heating up, just from the thought of using such things.
“No! It is just alcohol.” You say, sound very close to a choked laugh leaving you. “It makes you feel more at ease…” You say without a thought, because that is the truth, but you surely didn’t expect him to point out the obvious.
“Do I make you that nervous to make you drink this?”
He is teasing — there is smile at his face that sends your heart racing. You actually are not so sure what made you pour yourself a glass of wine, but maybe it really was because of him. You wanted to drink it alone, forgot about everything for a moment and enjoy the low hum of the subtle drug, but then he surprised you by staying. You didn’t even take a proper sip, because you were with him, the biggest addiction of all. His scent, skin and voice — everything pulled you into him like a siren, making you unable to do anything else but melt into his presence. He had this control over you, this invisible force and you really can’t fight yourself and lie. “A little.” You confess, but you have a feeling that he already knows it wasn’t just a little, but you were also just trying to safe any last bit of dignity left in you.
Like a switch in his brain, his eyes fall down to the drink in his hands, before placing the glass to his lips. You can see the first taste effecting him, eyebrows furrowing lightly, but then you almost choke yourself when he suddenly starts to gulp down the wine in your glass. The memory of the same position flashes before your eyes, but now there is just small streak of alcohol rolling down his chin. You are left to only watch your drink disappear — easily and without any resistance. You wonder if he just has different taste buds or if he is just swallowing it down to not let the small burn get to him, but when his adam’s apple bobs for the last time, there is a satisfied smile on his lips.
His tongue flicker over the plushness, thumb wiping off the excess, but he doesn’t let it go to waste — his thumb comes to his mouth, licking swiftly at the small drop on his skin, like he couldn’t get enough. He is so messy, you did notice that all the time when he ate and after few tries of making him use utensils you just gave up. ‘It is tastier when you eat with your fingers’ — that is what he told you. You blame the smell of the wine getting to your senses, because you feel drunk just by looking at him smiling at you. “I like it.” Han says, putting down the now empty glass next to his feet.
His words aren’t even slurred, he literally looks like he just drank water. “You dont feel anything?” You ask. However your small question receives a small tremble in his movement, eyes blinking back to yours.
“Should I?”
“I don’t know…” You say genuinely. He really is different — at least in the most subtle ways so far…You tear your gaze away from his, turning back to glance at the stars. They are the same, no change, but the meaning behind one specific one is. You wonder how many times you have stared it unknowingly, while you were looking for said change. Change — you wished for it and now it is by your side every day, though how could you ever expected this. You are still not sure if you feel competent by everything that has turned in your life, because somehow you feel like you don’t deserve it. His trust and kindness. You wonder why he chose you — you get this feeling that maybe, just slightly, this wasn’t one sided. His own story touched you greatly and it felt like he was the one actually waiting for you the whole time.
“You know–“ You start off, still looking at the lights in the sky, but you can already feel his eyes trailing over the side of your face. You always have his attention. “The last time I sat here, was when I was watching the shower.” You had to say it, you needed to, because it was eating you alive. Was it really just coincidence? It cannot be, because why would he showed up now? Why didn’t he stay back at his ship? Was it really that damaged? Because if it was, there would be atleast smoke in the distance or a fire. He told you he crashed into the forest, but the woods spread out. Your own question makes you look back at him and your breathing stop at the unreadable expression on his face.
He is not looking at you, staring down at his hands in thought, but as he feels the weight of your eyes on him, he glances to you — the emotion on his face disappears, smile stretching across his lips. “Funny — you must have manifested me.” Han says, small laugh leaving him,
“Yeah…” You don’t know if you want to question the sudden shift in him, as it was gone before you could even register it fully. Even if some time has passed since he got here, you never actually got him to say much about himself. He always had a way with words, making you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place. You know him — good enough you think, because you can sometimes tell when he is holding back. His sentences are always careful and light hearted, but there is always this look in his glowing eyes that you quite can’t place.
He always looks at you like that — like he is trying to see something, fingers twitching like he wanted to do something that he yet quite couldn’t. Your sight drifts, but your gaze stays at him, as you let your mind wander. Then there is a shuffle from him, so careful and little, but to you it wasn’t. You feel his shoulder sliding over yours, heat of skin so prominent even under the layers of material. He is leaning towards you, but still he is far enough for you to let you breathe — breathe in the air that comes out of his lungs. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, because this is the closest he has ever been and you are letting him. Your vision clears, blinking at him, body stilling. “You know…I maybe do feel something-“ He says quietly, eyes trailing over your features. “But I think it might not be because of the drink.”
You breathe out shakily at his tone that is just as sweet as his scent wrapping around you. “Han…” You whisper, but the sound of his name leaving your lips makes him lean even closer. You are stuck, eyes wide in not fear of his breath fanning over your lips, but because you are not moving away from him. He didn’t even have to say it — you already now what his words mean and you hate that your tummy fills with all too familiar tingles.
“What?” He is staring at you the same way he always is and now you know what it is — desire. You reminisce every time he would graze his skin over yours and now you think it really might wasn’t on an accident. His head tilts to level with yours, hand under his blanket eager to touch yours. You think, he can’t see the same emotion shinning in yours eyes, but it is so obvious. Your own scent told him everything he needed to know. His eyes flutter, smile stretching. “Come on, aren’t you a little curious?” He asks and you have to bite down on your tongue at his words that come from the deepest parts of his chest.
You are blinded, mind empty as you can almost taste the wine on his tongue. You can’t fight it no more — anything rational flying out, grinding away into the darkness around you. “Too much to be honest.” You whisper, voice low. There is no sound around you two, even the nature becoming quiet in expectation.
Your lips fall apart, silent sound leaving you as you watch him take his hand from beneath to blanket to come to rest against your cheek. His movements are so careful, touch so gentle — something you came to forget after being alone for so long and is there really any will in you left to fight against it? He looks at you, like you are the most precious thing he has ever come across off, letting him warm up your cold bitten cheek in trembling delight. “You might be the only human I have ever met, but I can also tell you that you are the most interesting thing up in the whole galaxy…” His words wrap swirl around you — your body and heart and you can’t hear anything else but their echo, as his fingers hook under your jaw.
“You are just saying that…”
“No.” Han says it in a way like your words had wounded him, shaking his head at you. “I mean it, so much.” His expression becomes softer, voice honey to your ears. You are in denial, because you can’t accept the fact that this man who saw so many words — is completely astonished by you. Your lungs burn from you holding your breath, watching the purple in his eyes gallop his irises, gaze falling to your quivering lips and you can’t help but leaning towards his touch. “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you smell-“ He sighs out, his small sound hitting your open mouth, making you gasp.
“Han-“
Your tongue is tied, mind a mess, shaking lightly as his thumb touches your bottom lip. He is so gentle, yet the feeling of his skin pressing against yours sets your soul on fire. You let him lean closer — you are too much of a mess to even jump away, because somehow it feels like everything is falling to its place finally. He is desperate, neediness transferring to you and as his eyes flutter close you follow the movement, not even a second wasted before he presses his lips to yours. They are softer than a cloud, sweeter than an any wine, your senses filling with only him. Your mind swirls from the small noise escaping him from the contact, your nose taking in his delicious scent — and your tongue rolling against his. He kisses you with hungriness that have been bubbling inside him for so long, hand on your cheek sliding towards the back of your neck.
You think you could have never get drunk of a simple kiss alone. You have never felt so much pleasure from sliding your lips against someone else’s like this before. Han tilts his head, mouth opening, tongue poking to lick against yours, teeth clacking together. You let out a surprise noise, because you taste the difference in him — his tongue is rougher, longer and more precise. He is kissing you like he has known you all along. You swear you can feel his chest rumbling when you press your hands over his beating heart, your slicks mixing together and he drinks it eagerly into his mouth, like it was the nectar of gods.
It is messy, fast — your mind slowly picks up on what is happening, while you are still trying to match his pace. His tongue is rougher with bumps and you wonder how you have never notice that before. His hidden differences are starting to show and it scares you…You shouldn’t be doing this. This is wrong, but why does it feels so good? Drool starts to slide down your chins, but you realize it is mostly him — he is literally foaming at his mouth for you, tugging you closer to his heaving chest, like he wanted to get under your very skin. All of this, all of these new things are making you shake in shock. You are frozen, body moving against your will, your mind screaming, but your feel small hesitation.
Your sighs turn into heavy breaths, because it is too much for you. Thoughts circle around your head, warning you of what you are actually doing maybe not be right. Maybe you should not be enjoying this — he is an alien, unknown. You don’t know him, even if your heart says otherwise and right now you can’t help but feel disgust towards yourself. What if he is just kissing you because he doesn’t know what to do with a human? No, he is smooth, his kisses are perfect, his touch is gentle than ever. However your mind, with the lack of oxygen you are getting, makes you tear yourself away from him.
Single string of your saliva stick to both of your lips, before it breaks, just like your mind. Your eyes are wide like his, with the same desire, but your shock wins over. Your hands loosen the grip you had him in, breathing heavily as you start to stammer. “I — need to think-“ You stutter, your words hitting him — seeing how he visible freezes. You feel regret, mostly because you stand up to your feet and turn to walk away, though you are not ready to except that. You are doing what you think is the right thing, but oh, how wrong you were…
His warmth leaves you the second you separate your lips from his, bitten and puffy, the sight haunting you like a reminder of what you let happened. You nearly trip with your hurried steps, leaving him behind as you swing open the door to your home. You are again the one running away — you are running away from the change you so wished for. It so much to take in, from letting him stay here, taking care of him and treating him like an equal to this. You shouldn’t have kissed him back and lean for more, even if you felt your heartbeat slowing to match his. You shouldn’t have treated him like a normal person, because he isn’t — he so isn’t…Then why? Why do you like that about him?
It is morally wrong and also because he just can’t stay here with you. He belongs to the stars, so far away from you, but his sweet words sounded like the brightest truth. You run up the stairs to your room, somewhere you think you would be able to lock yourself away from his presence, but you already now that wasn’t possible. He is everywhere and you did let him in yourself. You feel your throat burning from your rigid breaths, mouth dry, yet you can still feel the taste of his lingering. You don’t even lock your door when come in, because deep inside you know, you wouldn’t be able to escape him and the truth. Your fingers run through your hair, tangling the strands between your digits as you dig your nails into your skull.
You want him.
No, it is wrong. His blood isn’t even same as yours — his gestures, way of speaking, scent and taste. You realize that day by day as he slowly opened himself up to you, showing you how much different you are from him. He was scared as well — scared of this exact thing. You ran from him, you wounded him, but he somewhat understood. Everything in your life changed so quickly and he wished he was more careful, but how can he when it comes to you? Han never lies, he maybe has not told you everything, because he wanted to you show you instead and that he did in his kiss. His tongue…rough with bumps, so long and harsh — hungry to take in your taste, eyes shining in the brightest shade of purple under his closed eyelids.
A shaky breath leaves you, pacing back and forth on your carpet. Your room was dark, cold like it always been, but you can feel the warmth right behind your closed door waiting for you. Some time has passed, you don’t know how long, but it helped you calm down your racing heart — but your feelings stayed the same. You wished so many times…and when you finally get it, you ran away. Small sting stays behind as you release your grip on your head. What if you for once trusted your heart and not your mind? What if you finally didn’t listen and think about the future and just live…You have never left so alive before.
You sigh softly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts and just listen. The quiet — it is only around you, but your heart screams for you to let it open again. He may be from another planet, he may have seen so much more than you, but you start to believe that you are maybe the same. You both didn’t now where your true home lays, staying somewhere where it didn’t belong to you in the first place, just waiting — waiting for the thing that finally feels like peace. Why should it matter that you are different in body, when your souls both lay in the same place? Your eyes open fully, the invisible cloud that had blinded you dissolves. It was shame.
Your fast footsteps are just an echo to you, body moving on your own decision, because now you know what is right. You have decided, you know what you want — what you needed so badly. Your own unconsciousness already knew that also, because you didn’t close the door. It was clear from the moment you let him lean in and touch you. As your hand comes to wrap around the handle, you open it in such force you didn’t even know was possible, because not once in your life you were driven with such desire. The sweet scent, that always seemed to make you weak, fills your senses firstly and it is like a warm sigh kissing your skin.
Your gasp gets stuck in your chest, as Han stands right before you, hand falling from the door as you swung it open — he didn’t even want to knock, just you before, because there was no reason to. He knew, hoped still silently, that you would come back and now you are infront of him pupils expanding. No words are said, because your actions speak enough for the both of you. You don’t even know who moves first, you both in sync — grabbing the other desperately, before your lips meet again. There is no resistance nor hesitance now, moving on pure instinct, lust and desire warming up the air around you.
His hands come to dig into the plushness of your hips, yours grabbing his face that has been haunting you even in your dreams. Your tongues glide against each other, whimper slipping out as you finally don’t have to just reminisce what he feels like. It is hot — borderline filthy, there is nothing sweet about the kiss, but meaning behind it shines through. You feel shiver go down your spine as he pushes you closer to his body, fingers pinching at the exposed skin of your side. You curse against his mouth, breathing harshly, but pulling away. “I am insane for this-“ You say mostly to yourself, chest pressing against his, making you both stumble a little.
“I am-“
You shush him, shaking your head lightly at him, landing small kisses against his bottom lip. “Don’t say it — don’t stop.” Your plea is answered and it is like a switch was flipped inside him, hands traveling up to your waist as you slowly walks backwards towards your bed. Your noses smash against each other, breathing in just your own scents alone and you feel your mind becoming a mush from the sweetness as it is stronger than ever. Oh, only if you knew that he actually knows how much effect that has on you…
The back of your knees meets the bed, letting him push you down, falling onto the soft cushion. It makes you pull yourself away from him, but you can’t hide from the look in his eyes. He dreamed about this for so long — the glassiness in your vision, lips puffy from his, spit gathered around your chin like a silent mark. Han is shaking just from the thought of finally having you. You are a sight, a beautiful mess for him. He watches your chest moving wildly, your arousal making his head spin. His hand comes to cradle your face softly, leaning lightly into his touch, eyes fluttering. “I wanted you for so long — you don’t even know.” It is more of whisper and it shakes you from the inside.
“Then take me-“ Your own voice is so far away to your own ears, fingers twitching over the sheets from the shinning purple around his irises. That is the last permissions he needed, because you finally accepted the feelings deep inside you.
Your next breath is taken away from you, his lips landing in yours yet again, soft moan of pleasure leaving you as you are pushed to lay down. You both don’t separate from each other, bodies tangling together, while you shuffle up the bed to lay down on your pillows. His hands run over you — squeezing at your skin that felt like the softest silk. Your legs fall open, letting him in between them, hands grasping at his head to pull him even closer to you. You need him inside of you, you would let him eat his way to your heart — he already did, slowly and so suddenly, but it felt like the best feeling on this god forsaken planet. His teeth cage your bottom lip, sucking harshly, making blood rush to the surface.
His own action makes him whimper, the sound almost pathetic in a sense as it already makes his cock twitch. His hips don’t however press against you, even if you try to slightly graze against him. You don’t even know who has the upper hand right now, you are both just a tangle of limbs. Han separates his lips from yours, but you don’t pull him back, because he starts to lay kisses over your warm cheek. His moves are hurried, but they still hold the sweetness his scent radiates. His spit covered lips part, tongue poking at the thin skin of your neck. The sensation almost sends you over the edge, you only have the strength to take it, sighing at the small nibble as his teeth sink into you.
He sucks harshly right over the prominent vein in your neck, that jumps to the surface instantly. “Please-“ It is slurred, almost unheard from the ringing in your ears. He is pleading for what exactly you don’t know yet, slurping in your skin, drool coating you. “You are – fuck-“ Desperation is high in his words and movement, hands traveling over your stomach, till they stop under your breaths. You thought you would maybe be the one to plea — but, oh you are so wrong.
You feel a small shuffle under you, moan leaving him, silenced lightly by your own skin. He doesn’t stop — whimpers and whines rubbling inside his chest, his legs hooking under yours on purpose and then you feel it. His hips are rolling into your sheets, messily and almost with no rhythm — it is so sinful, eyes traveling down to watch his bottom half rubbing, humping into your bed, just right under your center. He is now just breathing into you, lost in the pleasure, chest pressed against yours. His imagination runs wild, trying to make the ache in his cock go away, but the way your thighs press against his sides, he can’t help but hiss as he feels himself leaking — already completely ruined.
He pleas again and again, ‘please’ so fast it is just a bunch of mumbles, head falling to rest on your collarbones, however it doesn’t stop him from licking at your sweat covered skin. “Talk to me-“ You breathe out, hand running over his head, hair a mess, but he only looks more good enough to eat.
A whimper rings in the air — already hot and stuffy. He doesn’t let up, hips slowing but only pressing harder into your bed, head rolling to the side to face you. His eyes are filled with unshead tears of pleasure, eyebrows pulled together, mouth open. The hands under your breasts dig into your ribs, but you don’t even feel the dull pain from his tight grip, too mesmerized by the sheer desperation on his face. His eyes seem to light up your dark room, so purple that you can’t even see his pupils. Though it doesn’t scare you, it only makes you needier, fingers unconsciously tugging at his strands.
His hands tug lightly at your t-shirt, feeling the heat of his touch even with the layer separating you. Han wets his lips at the thought that has been running through his head for so long. “Can I taste you, please?” His voice nearly cracks at the end and you feel your soft gasp getting stuck in your throat at his request. “I want to feel you — I will be good-“ His words make your whole body tingle, eyes widening at his yearning that seemed to be cage inside him for so long.
“Fuck, okay-“ You don’t even breathe out your answer fully, before his hands come to pinch at the softness of your breasts. Han sighs longingly — like in relief, wrapping his hands around your tits, feeling your hardened nipples dig into the palms of his hands. You don’t look any better than him, head rolling back into your pillow at his touch. You chase it, arching your back into his greedy hands and seems to take him over the edge.
Your t-shirt is harshly being pulled down, the material almost tearing from the sheer force and you don’t even have the time to react, when his mouth immediately comes to suck at the newly exposed skin. Han moans, tongue licking at the sheer lace covering you and if he wouldn’t be so eager to taste you, he could have enjoy the view a bit longer. He slides your top under your tits, thumbs flickering over your buds, till he replaces one of them with his mouth. It is hot and wet — drooling on you again, as he sucks in your lightly covered skin. He can’t tear himself away from you, needing at your plushness, tongue running over you. You are overwhelmed with pleasure, legs twitching around his hips. You can’t feel anything, but his mouth, tongue and teeth digging into you.
His fingers then hook at the top of your bra, not even fully separating himself from you, like he was scared you would vanish any second. Han hears the small tearing sound, as he uncovers you, but that quickly is forgotten, no shame in him left. You don’t see it, but you feel the cold air licking at your slick covered skin, the sensation making you whimper softly. Han doesn’t know what to do with himself right now — his touch maybe is bringing you pleasure, but mostly he was being selfish. A drop of drool lands on your left nipple, blowing air into the spot, just to see you tremble. The lace seems to blend into your skin, that shines in the moonlight.
The hunger in him grows, but he can’t help himself — pushing his head right into the softest part of your skin, teeth sharp. It isn’t enough to break the skin, but it is enough for you to let out a small yelp of pain. The sensation is too weak against the pleasure you are receiving. Han lightly tugs at your skin, nipping, before releasing it with a wet pop! The blazing red spot is made for his eyes mostly, like a reminder he was there, before his hands travel to your hips. He can feel the heat coming from your center, fingers hooking around the waistband of your pants in a silent question. Your head rolls back to face him, there are no words said, because the look you give him is enough for him to know not to stop.
Lifting your hips, you help him slide your pants off, his eyes staring at the new revealed skin. You feel just a little bit self conscious, looking down your body, feeling your underwear stick to your center like a second skin, while he tosses away your clothes. Though you don’t feel cold, his touch and the feeling bubbling in your lower tummy enough for you — shivering only when his eyes go to your covered cunt. Your thighs quiver, closing a little in small embarrassment, but your move is stopped instantly, hands coming to your knees to spread you even more.
“Shit — you are dripping-“ You sigh, feeling blood rushing to your ears, when his fingers trail over the outline of your underwear. The light color and also your wetness isn’t enough for him to not see how your clit twitches at his subtle touch. Biting his bottom lip, he watches how his thumbs nearly disappear in your skin as he pressed them into the spot where your thigh meets your center. He can already feel your wetness leaking onto him, smearing it over you, before his eyes meet yours. “Can I?” He asks again, not knowing that he is asking for something way more deeper.
“Yeah-” You let out, but you are left surprised, when he suddenly goes to tug at the blanket thrown next to you. You just watch him in small confusion — Han slides down to your bed to lay on his stomach, throwing the piece of material over you and his head.
“Is this okay?” He asks you again, one hand on the blanket so you can still see him, while the other toys teasingly at the corner of your underwear. You don’t really take it as an insult or something, because you can really focus on his breath fanning over your center. With a small nod of your head, you see a flash of relief at his face before it disappear under the blanket, material tickling the skin of your stomach. Maybe you should have suspected something, before you would be left in a state of shock…
It so something about the way you can’t see him — only feel him, that makes this much more appealing. You are now hyper focused on everything he gives to you, head falling back to rest against your pillow, gasp escaping you, when you feel him for the first time licking into you. His tongue flattens over your lace covered pussy, feeling his moan vibrating against you. Han’s nose digs into you, inhaling sharply your smell of arousal — the move makes you squeal almost, never having someone do that to you. His hands hold you open, not moving them, it is his own teeth and mouth that tugs the flimsy piece of material away from your cunt.
You feel him breathing down on you for a moment, your eyes trailing over his covered figure briefly. “Tell me if it is too much.” He says, head empty as it is now only you what he is breathing in to his lungs.
“Sure — ha!”
Your hips twitch harshly, when he suddenly slides his tongue through your slit. The texture is mind blowing to you, eyes staring wide at your ceiling, body freezing for a moment. Han’s movements are fast, long muscle trailing your your labia — he kisses, sucks, slurps. He is everywhere to you and you nearly want to escape such painful pleasure. His soft lips come to wrap around your puffy clit, tip of his tongue poking at the hood of it to make you only tremble more. Even under the blanket you can hear the nasty sounds he makes against you, mouth opening wider to suck you all in.
He is getting off to this…Your mind goes blank at the realization, fingers wrapping around your bedsheets to ground yourself. His teeth bump into your bundle of nerves, traveling lower to your hole — you don’t even know if it is your wetness that slowly drips down you or his drool. His thumbs come to either side of you, spreading you even more for him, smearing his face in your pussy. Was he even eating you out for your pleasure anymore? His hot mouth at your silent question comes to your clit again, mouth now open, but his rough tongue starts to flicker over you so sharply you nearly topple over the edge.
You feel like you are at your peak of pleasure already — it is never ending, burning. “Oh-“ Your lips fall apart, noises flying out of your mouth without any shame whatsoever, too drunk to even register how desperate you sound like. Han hums lowly into you, sucking lightly, drinking you all up. He can’t control himself anymore…His hips roll into your bed again, mimicking the smooth moves of his tongue. His whole face is covered in the mix of his spit and your juices, it is so much and he isn’t fast enough to slurp it all in, creating a puddle under you.
“You are so good-“ He mumbles, moving his head up and down with his movements, kissing your cunt sloppily. “So fucking sweet — fuck-“ A frown of pleasure stays on his face, tongue sliding over you again — from the sensitive skin under your cunt, all the way up your mound. Han breathing his heavy, but he doesn’t think anything would make him happier than suffocating between your shaking thighs around his head.
His words hit you — his drool on your tits cools, but the burn of his bite stays. His lips running over you don’t let up and you truly wonder if it is just him or the fact you were left to only feel what he is doing to you. One of his hands comes to replace his tongue with his thumb, circling of your slick covered clit. It is sharper, more precise and you can’t help, but let out a small sob. “Han…ohhh-“ You can only focus on his fingers coming to rub over your button right now, not noticing that his mouth is no longer sucking at you, but you do feel something — something way more different.
There is something long sliding over your slit — it is so slick, but it isn’t hot like his tongue. The bumps on his muscle are rough and small, familiar to you now, not so big and definitely not sucking you in. It comes to poke at your hole and you nearly jump away from such strange sensation. You are quiet for a moment, slowly realizing that it really isn’t something you ever felt before. Your head tilts down to his covered silhouette, noticing he is moving around, but his fingers are not nearly moving enough for that. “What-“ You breathe in loudly, sitting up, hand falling to the front of the blanket.
Your eyes widened even more when his hand that has been touching you comes to hold yours, but the sensation still stays. “No, don’t-“ He gasps out as well, voice filled with panic. “Just stay-“ You don’t, you can’t possibly as the thing slides just a bit inside you — it sparks fire in you, but you are too confused and shocked, pulling the blanket off from both of yours bodies.
You don’t know what you are seeing for a moment — too dark for you to see, only the his wide eyes shining at yours, but then as the sensation leaves your center you see it. Long tentacles, coming from the shadows. “Shit — this is…w-what?” You are left speechless, sitting up fully, moving away, but your eyes stay on the sight. You think you lost your mind for a second, but as the small dark spots in your vision clear, they are still there. “How?” You mumble, watching him quickly sit up as well.
They are four of them from what you can tell, the upper one’s longer, slick coating them each and every one of them, only outlining the suckers which you haven’t registered till now. Han is shocked just like you, mouth open, still shinning in your essence. He didn’t think — he should have told you this about himself maybe before touching you like that, but at the moment it felt right to him…”I am-“ He wants to apologize so badly, but this is him. This is the real him. “I should have told you — I wanted-“
“Where they there the whole time?”
You surprise him. You did move away from him, but it was mostly because you didn’t know what you were feeling. Maybe it is just this moment you are in, but you don’t feel any sense of fear — you should. Han digs his fingers into his thighs, head turning to one of the tentacles. There is now no reason for him to withdraw them, he already done it. “Yes.” He answers softly, frown falling on his face. “I just didn’t want you to figure them out like this…I wasn’t thinking-“ The shame he thought left him comes back, sending him in a state of distress.
You reminisce his words — he is different, but still you never thought like this. “Come here-“ Your own words leave you in disbelief, falling from your mouth sooner than you can even process them. Maybe you don’t know what are doing as well, but you know, you don’t want him to feel like this. Unwanted, pointed at — he is different, but he is still a person that deserves to be accepted. However it still sends your heart racing, watching the foreign things twitching at your demand.
The frown on his face softens a little, but there is still hesitation in him. Though he could never bring himself to not listen to you — he likes you maybe too much. Your kindness is not surprising to him, but your strong sense of will is. Like before, you let him show you what he is like and you didn’t back away at the end, just like now. He crawls up your body slowly, giving you the time to pull back if you wanted to, but your arms only come to his chest, gripping at him. “You are not scared?” He can’t help but ask, your eyes on the tentacles coming from the lower part of his back, still carefully tugged away from your reach.
“Should I?” You say, eyes flickering to his, naked chest still rising heavily. The sight before you makes the tip of your fingers tingle and you hope you won’t regret your own curiosity. “Do you control them?”
His cheeks dust pink, because he knows you are asking him if he touched you with them on his own behalf. “Yes.” He whispers, hands gripping at your waist.
“Can I touch them?”
His mouth falls open, seeing your face turn into wonder. “You sure?” His heart stops when you send him a small smile, nodding at his question. His pupils expand just from your expression, moving one of his tentacles closer to you. His breathing shatters, the purple, long limb twitching away on an instinct as you extend your hand. There is only wonder and curiosity — pondering if him making his tentacles shows is a some sort of form of arousal or if it is just him accidentally letting his guard down. However he did touch you with it and it was for sure on purpose…
Your fingers come to touch the slippery, slick surface of the outside, eyes flickering momentarily at him trying to see any form of pain or discomfort. He only blinks at you hasily, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. It moves smoothly, like a snake and as you look closer you notice small specks and lines in lighter hue decorating the length of it. It reminds you of his eyes — vibrant purple watching you carefully, body still hovering on top of yours. The tentacle is thicker at the bottom, tip slimmer and pointer. The underside of it has suckers, eyes widening in amazement as they seem retract, like they wanted to stick to something. You hum is long, tips of your fingers running up the limb, before you come to wrap your hand gently around it. “Hm — it’s soft.” You mumble under your breath, thumb coming to middle of one of the sucker and it instantly wraps around your digit, accidentally squeezing your hand at the gesture.
“Fuck-“ Flies out his mouth, head hanging low, hair covering his face. Your grip goes to loosen, but when you feel him shiver, your mind expands.
“You feel that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing, squeezing shortly to prove something to yourself and then you only hear a pathetic whimper ring in the air. “How does it feel?” Your voice is hazier, eyes flickering from the sucker wrapping around your thumb to him.
Han’s hands that are supporting his weight start to tremble, gasping when he lifts his head up — you are teasing him, you…you who was firstly scared of from the existence of him alone. You realize yourself way too quickly, that he is truly controlling every move of it, that it is part of his body, that it makes him fucking whine. “Good-“ He responds firstly, but then he almost jumps out of his skin, when your hand slides down the limb in a perfect stroke. “Holy shit — you are crazy.” He breathes out a short laugh of disbelief, watching his tentacle twitch as you start to move your hand up and down.
You are mesmerized by him, eyes shinning in delight. “You like it though.” You say. The tip of it comes to wrap around wrist, but it doesn’t stop you, more or so the closer you get to the base of it, the more his chest start to tighten. The other ones curl up as well, the suckers tightening over nothing, while the ones you are holding come to wrap around your skin. They stick to you almost painfully, but you can tell he is trying his best not hurt you — even if he is shaking, like a complete mess. You wonder what purpose they hold…you wonder what would happened if you didn’t stop him.
Crying out Han’s body betrays him, chest falling on top yours. “I-I do-“ He nods, hair ticking your nose, making you caress the top of his head. Your touch sends shiver up his spine, back arching and at that you notice how the tentacles are coming from underneath his shirt that has ridden up. However you are the one to gasp next when you firstly see his hips rolling, before you feel his covered cock rutting against you. Just that touch seemed to awake the heat in your lower tummy and your sound isn’t missed. Han lifts himself up as best as he can, watching your face scrunch up with pleasure when he rolls his hips into yours again. He can still taste your sweetness on his tongue, feeling your hand stilling at the slightest of graze of his cock over your pussy. “Will you let me touch you?” He asks and you almost grumble at him for asking you such a question, but then you realize what he meant. “With them?”
Looking back at your hand, still around the tentacle, you can’t help but feel curious and anxious at the same time. “Will it hurt?” You wonder out loud, staring at the thick base, but with his hand turning you towards him you are given a look of reinsurance.
He shakes his head softly. “No, I promise.” And you do trust him — after everything, you know there is no danger when it comes to him.
“Okay.”
Han nods his head yet again, like he is telling himself that this alright as well. He sits up, limb expanding back, pulling out of your hold, while you lay your hands by your head. You don’t know what to do with them, but to his pleasure he is thankful you let him touch you freely. Shuffling down your bed a little, he sits at the back of his knees, hands coming to hold your legs apart — you don’t even have the strength to feel embarrassed by the leakage on your sheets, pooling right under your ass. You are not the only one eager it seems. The one you have been holding, which was the one you were the most familiar with slides down the middle of your body.
The texture is almost slimy, leaving small trail behind as the tip goes back between your thighs like before, but now it is different — now you can enjoy the view as well. You have seen things like these before, but you never thought you would ever come even close to it, let alone experience the real thing. The tentacle acts just the same as his fingers, running firstly over your slit, feeling it harden against you. A moan leaves you, silently begging him to continue and to your delight he does. You are still so sensitive from his mouth and tongue, chasing the feeling of pleasure, hips pushing closer to it.
Han gives you a look, when he moves to your hole, tip just barely there. You admire is dedication of making you feel comfortable, but you are too close to the edge already not to send him a glare. There isn’t even any emotion behind it, eyes just piercing through his, not looking away, even as he slides the tip into you. You stiffen…you have come to realize that being with him comes with a change, but simply you have never felt something like that inside you before. It isn’t hard like a cock or one of the toys you hide under your bed — it is only shape like it in a sense, but it is wet, long, like a tongue. Though you were sure he wouldn’t be able to reach the sweet spot in you so quickly…
You arch into it, however not letting your sight of the tentacle slowly sliding into you. Your moan is so loud, that it shakes the room, hand flying to grasp his. The limb goes deeper, your walls squeezing around it, relief and pleasure washing over you. You are losing your mind from how fast it reaches your cervix, goosebumps rising all over your skin when the tip pokes at it. “Fuck, that’s-“ Mind blowing simply, feeling how the suckers come to latch onto the skin of your inner thighs, while it starts to curl up inside you. “So good–“ Your mouth falls open, finally looking up to his face and your sounds of pleasure stop at his expression — he is enjoying this as well, lips parting and then closing, staring down at his tentacle moving inside you. “More please.” You whisper and it almost falls to deaf ears, but the sting of your nails piercing into his hand makes him turn to you.
“You-“ He is speechless, but the heavy sigh he has been holding finally falls from his lips.
“Yes! Stop asking, please-“ You whine out, sending him such a sweet look full of need.
The other tentacles come to your view again — quickly, trying to keep with their movements, but they are swift as a whip. The one on the other side of the one inside you, travels to your cunt as well, but this one…this one turns to lay one of the suckers right over your clit. “Hm!” You squeal at the sensation, almost closing your legs if it wasn’t for his tight grip, because it instantly comes to suck at your puffy bundle nerves, its rim wrapping around it. You cry out, as it seems to fit perfectly and in your delirious state you only can breathe out choked sighs while the other ones — slimmer, faster wrap around your harden nipples.
You are in shock, body tensed up, but it still shakes wildly under him. Your eyes roll back inside your head from all the other sensations. The one inside you starts to thrust, each time the base becoming thicker and thicker, stretching you out. The other one sucks even harder on your clit, sending shockwaves down your body — the other two tugging meanly at your red nipples, tips of them poking at your peaks. You can’t keep up with him, ears ringing from the nasty wet noises coming from your cunt and the tentacles. Han’s eyes are wide, trying to take in the full picture of you taking him all in — it is better than he imagined. You are covered in purple, the color so beautiful against your shade of skin, watching your stomach contract, whimpering himself from everything you are experiencing.
There is no part of you that is left untouched, letting him wrap you in his long limbs. “Cum for me, please — it is too much-“ Han whines out, like he is the one in your place, but you can’t forget about the fact that he does feel everything as well. He feels the drag of his tentacle inside your warm cunt, he does feel and see how your nipples swell around his limbs, he feels every single twitch of your clit latched with one of his suckers. You have taken so much of him already, your hole is basically swallowing up every new inch he gives you, unconsciously the tip sliding over the opening of your cervix, length pressing just right over the softest spot inside you.
You are becoming a babbling mess, series of pleas and moans filling up your room, tears leaving your eyes as you blink them open. Your nails dig into his hand, but none of you feels it. Then as you look down your body, the sight simply is the thing that hurls you over the edge. “Cumming-“ You cry out, back arching. “Please — oh, my-“ You are saying bunch of nonsense, but to him they are the most filthy sound he ever heard. Your tummy contracts, the burning sensation of everything he is doing to you, too good not to make you completely leave in shakes, feeling the first spark of your peak.
White is all you see, low hum filling your head, whole body arching off the bed from the seemingly non stopping waves of pleasure. You become hyper focus on everything — how the tentacle inside you twitches as your walls tighten, how the one on your clit doesn’t let up, making your orgasm extend and how the ones around your nipples tug a little too harshly from your trembling movements. You feel yourself leaking around his limb, creating a messy white ring at the base, dripping down to your already ruined sheets. Your breathing is uneven, but after a moment you feel your muscles spasming, before your grip on his hand and sheets become limp.
You are on the bring of overstimulation, a small whimper different from the others, making him finally let up on your spent body. However your desire and hunger stays, taking a deep breath of his scent into your lungs. When the tentacle slides out of you a loud, slick noise is heard, walls squeezing around nothing now, trying to unconsciously suck him back in. You feel how you are left stretched out and surprisingly it sends a tingle of delicious pleasure through you. Han can’t quite seem to catch his breath as well, pulling away from your clit — red and swollen, just like your nipples and the red, blotchy spot on your breast. He travels his eyes over you, marveling at the sight infront of him in a small silence, while his cock presses painful against his pants.
Small humms and sighs leave you, eyes carefully blinking open, vision still filled with sparks of colors. You feel the small soreness in your core, but you also feel so empty — suddenly Han comes to your view, sweat coating his hairline, while his face controls in concern. “Shit — you okay?” You nearly laugh at him, you really do. Though you still appreciate his concern, drinking up his sweet gesture, hands falling to his warm cheeks.
Even when you lean to land a small kiss at his puckered lips, the look on his face doesn’t melt away, but when you start to circle your thumbs over his cheekbones it melts. “Yeah-“ Your scratchy voice makes him breathe out a sigh, licking at his lips so the taste of your lingers for a little longer. You both gave yourselves a whiplash from how fast your position changed — you are the one begging now. You pull his head closer to you, noses rubbing against each other. “Need you now, please-“ You mumble softly against his lips and he can’t help but groan into you.
“Fuck–“ He curses from your words and tone, the feeling of your slick juices on his tentacles coming to contact with the cold air. You hum sweetly at his bad word, kissing him sloppily, making him feel your neediness. “Want me to fuck you, hm?” He says into your mouth, smacking his lips against yours.
“Fuck, yes–“ You breathe out, pulling him into a heated kiss with your hand in his hair, while the other grasp at his muscular shoulder.
“You are still shaking.” He states the obvious, pulling away a little, hands on your hips.
“I don’t care.” You say back, rolling your eyes lightly, hissing lightly, when you see him open his mouth again. “Shut up.”
“Of course.”
He separates himself from you, tugging hurriedly his t-shirt over his head — it is little clumsy, because his tentacles are in the way, making them momentarily retreat, but not disappear. There is no need anymore, you have excepted him. Just like he wanted. Your eyes slide over his chest and exposed skin, which you have dreamed about, finally at your reach. He slides off the bed for a moment, just to take his pants off, the sound of his zipper coming undone loud to the both of you. Your breathing stops, eyes on his lower half, heart picking up speed the more he exposed himself to you, till you see the smooth skin of his base. He is looking at you, as he finally takes his pants off, cock immediately slapping against his stomach.
He is big — long, thicker at the base, just like his tentacles, tip flushed, hissing the moment cold air hits him. However the thing that leaves you stunned the most is his cum…it’s shinning purple. You could have guessed that, but your mind has been too occupied till now. “So pretty.” You, whisper biting your lip. Your words make Han choke, pink dusting his cheeks and you grow slightly amused at the thought of his blush being purple.
He crawls back up your body, precum smearing over you in the process and your eyes widened at the feeling and sight. It is thicker than his blood, but it seems like it doesn’t die down in its light — seemingly glowing more when it comes in contact with your skin. The thing you also didn’t notice till now is that his base is smooth, just one thick bump in replacement of two. “I don’t think, I will last long.” He says sheepishly, hands coming to rest on either side of your head. His cock falls onto your lower stomach, making the familiar desire in your grow, even if you are already overstimulated beyond your limit.
The glowing tip is just at your belly button and you grow thankful for him fucking you with his tentacle first — they now lazily swirl around you both, making you feel all too safer from the outside world. “Just give it to me, baby.” You say, the nickname makes his lips part, before they crashed to yours yet again.
Your kiss is messy as before, your hands running down his chest, while one of his comes to expose you more to him — you are still wearing clothes somehow, but you know that they will be too ruined to be worn ever again. While his hand tugs your t-shirt up your stomach, yours slides down his hard stomach to his cock. Both of you moan at the feeling, your hand wrapping around him, thumb circling over his tip, smearing him in his cum. You are both slick and ready, no need to wet his cock when your pussy is still leaking from your orgasm. You guide him and he lets you, hips rolling into your hand, chasing your softness.
His tip is thick, even after everything he did, it still is a delicious stretch. Your hand leaves him, Han leaning his weight on his hands, making your head sink into your tear stained pillow deeper. You are so soft and warm — his cock slowly penetrates your stretched out cunt, losing his mind immediately when your walls come to wrap around him. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You moan in acknowledgment, nails digging into his back from the small burn. However you can’t stop watching him — the face he makes, when his cock disappears inside you, seeing from the corner of your eyes the tentacles twitching around your bodies.
His cock slides almost all the way into you, tip kissing your cervix, but now it is harsher, even deeper, thicker base brushing over your spot. Han opens his eyes, when he finally sinks fully into you — looking at his slick coating your thighs, muscles twitching, before he trails his eyes over the rest of your body. You are making him speechless simply by existing. He lets you get use to him, but his hips start to roll against you still. When you don’t do anything to stop him, he doesn’t simply. The drag of his cock is too good, length sliding out of you, before snapping his hips back. “Oh, yeah-“ You choke a little, as he starts to move, feeling every inch and every single veins of his cock pushing into you.
“Big-“ Your eyes glimmer with tears, but that only seems to make him go faster. Your simple word goes immediately into his head, making him grow visible confidence, letting himself become loose more and more. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin — your pussy squelching loudly, making you whimper in small embarrassment.
He leans to press his naked chest against yours, feeling your nipples poking at his own. He wanted this for so long…His thrust become almost mean. Hard, fast, tip poking at your cervix, as the more your grip tightens, feeling you on the edge of breaking the skin of his back with your nails. His warning rings in your head — you are not so sure yourself if you are going to able to last for long. Your thighs wrap around his hips, ankles hooking under his back to pull him closer to you. You breathe in each other’s sounds of euphoria, watching his eyes glowing from your state. His mouth is open, lips slick from saliva. His smooth pelvis perfectly rubs at your painfully used clit, each time he pulls his cock from your cunt — just perfectly, enough the feel a spark of the right pleasure.
He can’t take his eyes off you — looking down at your tits, bouncing with each rut of his hips. The spot which he left on you is turning purple, just like the color of his whole true being. He decided himself that he never wants to see you in any other hue than this. With being so focused on you and at the feeling of your cunt eagerly sucking him in, a small drop of drool lands on your skin. His eyes grow wide for a second, looking at the drop of slick on your sternum, though you only tugs head to you. You don’t stop your sighs of delight, though they momentarily become softer when you blink at him lazily, before your mouth opens wider.
Shock pierces him, looking into your eyes in small hesitation, but you only show him commitment, with your actions. So — Han leans over to hover over your body, angling his mouth with yours before he spits onto your tongue. The drop of drool lands on the pink muscle, letting him look at glide down your tongue a little longer, before you swallow it, drunken smile stretching over your lips. However your small sweet expression is quickly wiped away from your lips — becoming a crying mess, when his hips snap into yours faster and deeper. Han is now the one grinning, though you can’t see it with your blurry vision, only feeling how he goes to swipe his own tongue over your softer one, drinking in your high pitched whimpers. He is basically drilling his cock into you, ruining you for anyone else — there won’t be. Permanently creating a perfect mold of his cock in your cunt, going deeper, you not thinking that was even possible. You feel his throat opening, like he wanted to say something, but then his own move surprises him.
One of his tentacles lightly licks at your shoulder, poking you and he again did that without his will, purely on an instinct. Your head rolls to the direction of it, mind too empty, just so full of pleasure and his cock to think about what you are doing — you grasp it, your warm hand tightening, before you make him completely shatter in his rhythm, when your tongue comes to slide against the length of it. He almost growls, when you turn back at him, mouth closing around the tip. “You are so perfect-“ His hands smooths down your hair almost lovingly, but it couldn’t be said the same for the rough drags of his cock. Your grip loosens just because he is now pressing down the tentacle on your tongue. Every sound you make, he can feel vibrating against him, nearly choking when the tip meets the back of your throat. “I’m close-“ He says, gasping at the upcoming feeling spreading inside his body. “I’m so close, baby-“
He is almost sobbing, matching your tear stained gaze. You pull him out of your mouth a little, sucking lightly in the process. “Give it to me, please-“ Your skin is hot to touch, sweat making you stick to his body, wetness coating your inner thighs. The tingling sensation in you is making it hard to breathe, hands sliding over his back to atleast try to ground yourself, though you only seem to shake.
Your words hit him — expression darkening for a split second, but you are not quick enough to catch it. His other three tentacles wrap around arms, suckers latching on to you, making you gasp in surprise. “Fuck, you want it?” His voice is strained, sitting up to his knees to make his cock hit your spot dead on. “You want me to fill your pussy, hm?” You have never heard him use this tone before, so demanding. It makes your whole body cover in goosebumps, whimpering around the purple limb in your mouth, while the others tighten around you.
“Han-“ You nearly choke again.
“You want it?“ He hums, mimicking you, when you nod your head pathetically fast. “Fuck — say it.” You only can feel the way his cocks swells inside you — your clit burning, body shivering. You don’t even notice the pressure on your arms disappearing.
“I want it, Han. Please — cum inside-“ His breathing becomes faster, cock dragging against you in long, hard strokes. “Please, please, please-“ You don’t even care how pathetic you sound, blinking away your tears, only now noticing the two tentacles sliding up your thighs. “Han!” Your eyes grow wide, back arching when they suddenly slide into you, stretching you beyond your limits.
Han coos at you softly, watching his tentacles disappearing inside your cunt, thrust slowing to slow harsh humps, but you can’t even tell the difference right now. It burns — enough for you to screw your eyes shut, but the euphoria reaching it hands out to you is too good to stop. “Shhh, it’s okay. Take it, baby…” He slurs, his purple limbs coming to either side your cervix. Your sob is small, mostly filled with pleasure, legs tightening around his back, grazing over the very base of the tentacles. He cries out at the touch, ruts becoming sloppy, but that doesn’t even matter, when your head rolls into your pillow as you hit the peak of your pleasure.
“That’s it — such a good girl.”
Whimpering, the tentacle slips out of your mouth, curling suddenly and you realize immediately why, when he snap his hips into yours for the last time. The ones inside you split you open literally, the base of his cock sliding into you. It feels like he is in your throat, head lazily rolling down to rest against your chest — gasping at seeing your tummy bulging. You can see the outline of his cock in your stomach, feel every pump of his hot cum filling you. The purple limbs coming from his back twitch, feeling their pointy tip spreading you so his slick would stay. Han is a mess, hand shaking next to your head, while the other comes to rest against your stomach.
The pressure is good — way too good, for something so sinful. It is like you can feel his cock growing soft, but then you realize it is just his base that you learned holds his warm cum. You are so fucking full, you cry weekly as you let him pump every last bit inside you. You wanted it, you still feel your pussy squeezing him at him and his limbs desperately. It is the best and the most nastiest thing imaginable. “Too much-“ You mumble and that seems to snap him back into reality, eyes traveling to yours, before he slowly pulls out. It is firstly is tentacles, slick from your juices and glowing from his. You find your strength to sit up to watch his cock popping out of your cunt, his fluorescent cum instantly leaking out of your puffy, used hole. He is mesmerized just like you by the sight, breathing heavily, sitting up as well to take a better look at you.
Your body lays limply under his, chest heaving and cunt still clenching over every leak of his cum. It stains your sheets, yours and even his skin, like a mark — feeling the small red, tender spots from his suckers, running all the way up your arms. Your eyes are barely open, but they are on his, not leaving, even when he goes to lie his body on top of your to press a longing kiss at your lips, full of lust and sweetness which he always had for you. There is no turning back...Han wanted you from the moment, he saw you sitting on your porch and you were too blind to see the darkness in the glow in his eyes every time you were near him. He couldn’t get enough of you — everything you did called to him. Your smile, your voice, your body. He finally has you where he wished you to be — right with him.
He can’t wait to finally take you away from this horrible place — just like he intended…
Y/N dreams of a cold night in the woods where a tall, slender and faceless man hunts her and when he finally gets his hands on her, he shows no mercy.
Warnings - 18+ MDNI! swearing, horror, supernatural themes, lucid dreaming/nightmare, smut, dubcon, noncon (this is only okay in fictional stories but is still wrong and is NOT behaviour I condone), oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, dacryphilia, lots of fluids, squirting, breath play, monster cock, monster fucking, stomach bulge kink, size kink, tentacle porn (this is my first time writing this, if you’re not into that kinda thing feel free to skip this one), double penetration, possessive sex, pet names such as little thing etc, praise kink, slight degradation, kidnapping, gaslighting.
Word Count - 2.6K
[Series Masterlist]
Your feet are damp, the soles pressing into earth that gives a little, like a bruised peach. Fog beads on your lashes and turns the world into a smear of charcoal and pearl. The trees are wrong here, they’re too tall and too narrow, too many joints in their branches. There’s no path, and yet your body knows one. You move the way water threads between stones, finding the easiest line, gliding between trunks that stand like long, silent witnesses. The cold breath of the woods is steady, a hush that sounds like the ocean but with the volume turned down.
“Hello?” You call out, and it echoes through the wood and wet air, meeting your ears again like someone is screaming, but you’re not screaming, are you?
At first, there’s no answer, just an eerie silence, the kind that appears in stories right before the bad thing happens and then a different hush slides over the trees. It has weight to it and it smothers the crunch of pine needles underfoot. That’s when you pause to look around the forest that seems to stretch way beyond your sight.
It’s so quiet, now that you’ve stopped walking, you can hear everything and nothing all at once, it seeps into your bones like a snake slithering beneath your skin, your breath is fogged as it leaves your lungs and that’s when you hear it, a crunch so deep and far, yet it feels like it’s looming and waiting for you.
You turn before you tell yourself not to and you squint your eyes trying to focus between the endless trees. Something moves, slightly, a fraction of a hair out of place amongst the mist. The blur in your gaze hones in on a single figure. Tall, slender and pale as the moon that looks down at the scene. There are no distinguishable features on its face and yet you know that it sees you. You can feel it. You step back, the crunch below you louder than before, deafening. The man, creature, whatever it is, tilts his head slightly, the movement almost familiar.
Then you run, run as fast as your heavy legs can take you. Your lungs are burning, your knees are sore, and yet you don’t allow yourself to waver. You can’t help it, you turn to look back and nothing, just woods and wet air. When you return your gaze to the path, it’s there. His clothed legs, still and long in front of you that mirror the look of the trees that stand alongside him. Your feet dig into the damp ground below and you scream, your throat raw and tensing to emit the sound.
He doesn’t move at first but then long snake-like appendages glide from beneath his tailored black suit, it’s so fast that in a mere blink, you’re lifted off your feet and dangling upside down, your skirt falls away leaving your panties on show, the scream dies in your throat as another tentacle runs over your mouth. The blood rushes into your head, you feel dizzy and nauseous, swaying as he seems to gaze over your form, though, you can’t tell because he has no eyes.
You can’t even kick yourself free because he holds both limbs with his own spidery ones and though he doesn’t have a mouth to speak, his words echo inside your head, “Soft, pretty little thing.” The familiar term of endearment makes your stomach churn, he brings your form closer. Your core is a mere inch from his face.
He inhales. You feel it in the air that swirls past your cunt.
Yet, he has no nose, his face is just white, marbled and featureless like a smooth pebble. It sounds like he grunts at your scent but again you’re so dizzy from hanging upside down that you can’t tell what’s real anymore. Fear pumps through your veins as your eyes travel down his long figure, your gaze pauses, your eyes wide in disbelief when you find an abnormally large bulge in his trousers. Oh fuck.
His spindly lithe fingers reach for you then, they glide around your neck and are so long they encompass your entire throat in one grasp. He retreats the appendage that covers your mouth, allowing you to gasp in the humid air but it travels down to his zipper instead, with one slow and deliberate pull his monstrous cock bounces in the air as it’s released from the clothed prison of his pants. It’s as pale as his face, slightly purple at the tip that glistens with pre-cum in the moonlight.
And he’s long. Not overly thick but enough to have you wondering how he’ll fit inside you.
You cry then, your tears flooding down your forehead as you swing gently. Your sobs don’t seem to deter him whatsoever because suddenly he’s pushing the head of his cock into your open mouth, your screams surround his length and he moans, a deep terrifying rumble that echoes around you. With absolutely no warning he shoves it as far as your narrow throat will allow and it feels like he’s in your fucking lungs with how much he stuffs into you. You close your eyes willing yourself to breathe normally but you can’t. There’s no air that’s forgiving and no mercy given from him as he uses you for his own pleasure. His hand around your neck tightens slightly making it harder for you to stay conscious, the bulge from the intruder swelling inside you.
“Mhmm, tight throat. I can feel how deep you take me. Just relax my little dreamling, take what I give you, you’re already doing so well.”
You’re blinking slowly now, hanging like a rag doll that has no bones, limbs hanging lifelessly. He loosens his grip slightly and you suck in more air through your flared nostrils as he continues his slow descent down your abused throat. Spit and precum spill around his cock and sting your eyes, he twitches inside you, as your vision blurs with sleep taking over but he can’t have that, no, he needs you to be awake for this. Another appendage slithers over your clothed pussy and you jolt around him as the ribbed texture runs over your clit.
“Does my pretty thing like that?” He asks rhetorically from his invisible lips.
Your body betrays you as your cunt clenches around nothing, he knows that you do, he can smell it from your slick that begins to soak your panties while he continues sliding over it to keep you present for him. He wants you to feel every inch that fills your aching jaw though he’s barely a third of the way in but that’s okay, he’ll fit more into your pussy. That much he’s sure of.
With a sudden buck of his slim hips, he empties his load into your mouth, and you don’t even need to swallow because his tip has pushed past your oesophagus. “Mhhmm, there we go, hungry little dreamling.” He pulls you off of him gently, which surprises you and once your mouth is free from him you cough and splutter, your audible cries returning.
“Shh, sweet thing. We’re not done yet.” He hushes you, tauntingly. His voice is so familiar.
“Please-please! Stop! It’s too much-“ he interrupts your pleas, flipping you back the right way up, his long fingers wiping at the fluids that cover your face with a soft touch. Your brain struggles to catch up, your eyes roll into your head at the nauseating movement. More tentacles slither out of his back and rip your clothes away leaving you in nothing but your panties.
“Oh, such a beautiful thing aren’t you.” He hums in appreciation.
You sob and try to wriggle free but it’s of no use. His grip on you is too tight, he spreads your legs and holds both of your wrists above you with one hand, you look down and you’re about 5 feet off the ground. “Please- I can’t-“ you scream out but it falls on deaf, non-existent ears.
Appendages wrap around your breasts, the suckers landing on your peaked nipples and getting straight to work, pleasure, as much as you try to fight it, crawls down your spine straight to your needy pussy. You cry out and he runs another one over your panties before pulling them aside and shoving it into your entrance.
“Ahh! Oh my god!” You scream but it turns into a choked whimper as the suckers slide in and out of your gummy walls. He feels nearly as much pleasure from his tentacles as he does from his cock and your cunt is divine to him. He can’t wait to fully claim it around his length soon but he knows he has to prep you if he wants to fit in as much as possible. Before you can stop it your orgasm hits you like a freight train, your body convulses in midair, your pussy spasms and your muscles ache from being held up for so long but he doesn't stop, he drags out your orgasm as long as he can. When he’s done his appendage slithers out of you, the erotic wet noise echoing throughout the forest.
“You squirted, little thing! Desperate for more aren't you? You want my cock?” he growls. His face is still the same haunting blank image that burns into your memory.
“I- it's too big-” you stutter but he doesn't listen he just lines himself up anyway and then buries himself nearly to the hilt, filling you up all the way into your stomach that swells under his hungry gaze whilst there’s still no eyes present on his face.
“Mhmm, so tight, so fucking juicy.” He groans.
You whimper from the stretch, the pain mixes with pleasure deep in your gut. Your pussy grips his cock almost choking it, his hand finds your throat again as he ruts into you like a wild animal, the lewd sound filling your ears. A tentacle wraps around your wrists so he can use his long fingers to stroke your clit while he greedily takes you the way he desires. You somehow suck him in even tighter causing his length to throb, his girth spreading you impossibly wider.
“This cunt is made to be bred, made to be filled,” he pants, but then you scream out because something else is pushing in alongside his length.
“Uhh, what- what?” You cry as you glance down, you wince when you see it’s another one of his appendages being stuffed into you.
“Mmhmm, that’s it my dreamling. Take it all!” He growls with no hesitation continuing to push into your quivering hole. The suckers working their magic to open you for him, they drag against your G-spot with agonising precision and you know then that you’re done for, you’re gonna cream again. His appendages all work in tandem, his fingers run over your clit in time with his deep thrusts, the tentacles on your nipples suckling so deliciously that they become swollen and purple but he’s relentless. Now chasing both of your orgasms.
“Let it happen, let me feel you give in to me. Squirt for me again my sweet little thing.” He groans and you do as instructed, like it was inevitable. Your climax is blinding, soul-destroying, it almost kills you because as you come, his cock dives in and buries into you at the hilt and his bony hips meet yours. You’re not sure if you scream, cry or stay deathly silent because all you can hear is him taunting you as his own orgasm reaches its peak. “Pathetic little dreamling, all mine now. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” He growls as he paints your insides as white as his face. Your mix of come spilling out as he stuffs you full with another flex of his slender hips. You know that voice now, that much you’re sure of but where have you heard it?
You feel yourself getting dizzy as you try to stay awake, déjà vu spiking your memory, scared he’ll just use you again, he pulls out and his appendages engulf your form and wrap around you in a soothing hold like you’re something precious to him. They bring you closer to his body and his long hands reach to hold your face.
You quietly sob and sniffle, unable to comprehend what’s just happened, and he wipes the tears away like a lover would, fond and gentle. Your vision comes back and you come face-to-face with him. His face warps and contorts before your very eyes, strong nose, defined jaw and high cheekbones. Dark smouldering eyes, plump berry lips that are pulled into a satisfied smile. His skin is still marble-like and pale but he’s beautiful. It’s him. It’s-
“Hyunjin!” You scream as you wake in your bedroom. Your skin drenched in sweat, your pussy slick between your thighs. Your heart beats wildly like it’s trying to break out of your chest.
Your boyfriend sits up in the bed abruptly next to you and you can only see the outline of his face in the low light, you scream again as his hand grabs your wrist. For a moment you think you’re still in your nightmare but then Hyunjin switches on the bedside lamp and pulls you toward his chest.
“Hey, hey, hey, little thing. Calm down! I’m here, it was a nightmare. Shh.” He coos as he rocks you against him. You sob and he puts a finger under your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Those same dark eyes bore into yours but they’re softer, more human.
“I’m sorry I woke you again.” You sniffle.
“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad you’re okay, was it the same as last week?” He whispers against your skin whilst he peppers sweet kisses on your cheeks.
“It was worse, you were slender-“ Hyunjin shakes his head interrupting you, though it’s not cruel it’s more, concerned. “What did I tell you about playing those horror games before bedtime, hmm?” He tuts, whilst running his palm through his blonde buzzcut.
“I know, I know,” you grumble but he just chuckles landing another kiss to your mouth this time. “It felt so fucking real, like a memory.” You say with a frown on your features.
“That’s only because you keep having the same nightmare, little thing.” His hand caresses your thigh and he feels your arousal coat his fingers. “Did you?” He starts to ask but you hide your face in his chest, embarrassed. “It was a sex dream,” you groan against his sleep shirt. He laughs and pulls you closer, “Oh really?”
“Stop it!” You say and he apologises immediately. “Hey, I’m sorry. Did you want me to hold you till you fall asleep again?”
You nod, “Yes please,” he can’t help but smile at how cute and naive you are. You turn to face the window and he spoons you from behind, his arm around your waist as he kisses the back of your neck sweetly. “You’re safe with me, my little dreamling,” he mutters so softly that you assume you made it up and as you drift back to sleep, you don’t see the smirk that pulls at his lips when he realises that whilst you may not remember the day he found you in the woods, claimed you and took the form he inhabits now, your subconscious still remembers and the slick that covers your soft thighs that he loves to spread beneath him, your body also remembers and that’s enough for him.
For now anyway.
DISCLAIMER - We do not own the rights to Stray kids, they are used as inspiration for fiction and the actions in the fic do not represent the idols in real life.
⚠ — Age gap (older reader), virginity loss, first times, breeding & lactation kink (see masterlist for more)
➥ If someone told you a couple of weeks ago that you would be losing your virginity to some pretty boy half your age, you would die laughing.
HOST PROFILE
※ Legal name: Chris [*Crispy -Ji] Bang [me all night long💋 -Lix]
※ Host code: NOVA
※ Attracts: Loverboy aficionados [Don't come after my shit, it's 'Heartthrob' for you -Hyun]
※ Characteristics: Natural flirt [*Horny, -The Real Boss], sexy dork [You a dork alright, -Jeong], college crush vibes [Wtf is college, you were born in the Renaissance -Seung], knows what he’s doing but acts shy [Have some backbone mf, if u sexy u sexy -Bin]
※ Why patrons love him: Dude’s just super swoon material. [Heh, thank you ^^ -Chris]
“SURPRISE!!!”
You clasped your chest at the threshold of your apartment, thinking you were for sure having a heart attack. With all due fucking respect, there was a reason you told your beloved trio of friends you didn’t like surprise parties. It had nothing to do with being a hipster-level snob—you just did not enjoy getting jumpscared, period.
“Happy birthday, sweetie!”
Then again, you had to give it to them. A surprise party was indeed a surprise when it happened an entire week before your actual birthday. Still taking deep breaths to calm your crazed heartbeat, you reciprocated their hugs with a blank stare and muttered something that sounded like a thank you. You didn’t know exactly how much time had passed until you sat down on your couch to open your gifts.
A watch. A box of all your favorite snacks. A bottle of Pisang Ambon freshly brought from Kim’s recent Amsterdam trip. And a red envelope harboring something like an invitation.
“What the hell is… Back Door?”
“It’s a point we’re trying to make,” Marina responded before taking a huge sip from her wine. “And possibly the key to relieving years’ worth of pent-up stress you don’t even realize you have.”
“Relieving stress? Is this supposed to be a spa?” you looked at the envelope. “A little eccentric name choice if you ask me.”
“Not exactly,” Jess slapped a shit-eating grin on her face. “Remember your little revelation at Kim’s party?”
Oh good fucking grief… Kim’s party.
The boss bitch herself had gone all out to announce to everyone on the hemisphere that she had made junior partner at the firm you were working together, and the guest list was almost exclusively composed of all the hotties she knew. You and Jess were just lounging on the couch when some dude with a huge sleeve tattoo, disheveled hair, and baggy clothes on walked into the room, immediately grabbing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.
But Jess the most.
“Like, hot damn, man,” she immediately started eyefucking the guy. “How many shots will it take for you to finally get rid of that shirt and give me some spank bank material?”
“You wanna sleep with him that much?”
“As if,” she deadpanned. “He has a girlfriend. I just want a clearer mental image for when I cum to the thought of this guy.”
“Oh, that’s what spank bank means?”
Jess turned to you with creased brows and asked you the one question she wasn’t supposed to ask you.
“Sweetie, you do masturbate, right?”
Oh, shit.
How to explain this fucking situation and not come across as an extraterrestrial being…
“Tsch, duh. I mean… Who–Who doesn’t?”
“Really?” she squinted her eyes more. “How do you do it?”
Masturbation. Something very natural for an average person, but your worst enemy. Whenever you mentioned that you never tried touching yourself, most people acted like you just told them you hated puppies or something. It wasn’t like you had anything against it; you just never experienced a sexual frustration so dire that it needed to be sated.
“Woman…”
“Fine! I’ve never done it before.”
“Seriously?” Jess basically yelled as if she wasn’t expecting this answer in the slightest. “Like… Ever?”
“No, once. What do you think never means?”
The expression on her face changed from incredulous to somewhat concerned, and she came closer to you as if she was about to reveal a secret.
“Sweetie, are you… Are you a virgin?”
You thought she was going to judge you for still being untouched at this age, but her eyes were nothing but compassionate. As though she was about to scream ‘Show me where the bullies are’ and beat the shit out of some people on your behalf. When you nodded, she didn’t drag the conversation—just squeezed your hand, grabbed another bottle of wine for the both of you, and changed the subject seemingly for a more convenient time to be discussed.
“I promise you this is an incredibly professional place. I’ve done a lot of research for this,” Kim reassured you after giving you the whole spiel about what the red envelope place was supposed to be. “This host in particular has stellar testimonials.”
“What’s he recommended for? How well he fucks?”
“You would think so,” Marina continued. “but people actually praise him for what a genuinely sweet guy he is.”
“A sweet guy?” you cocked a brow. “So you’re telling me this is not to get my V-card swiped?”
“No, bitch, it’s because you keep making excuses not to meet people. Not everything’s about sex, you know?”
When Jess hit you with that much bluntness, you didn’t really know what to refute that with because it was true. Every time they told you a friend of theirs was interested in you, every time someone just walked up to you at a bar to initiate a conversation, you always had a reason to refuse them. You told people that you weren’t interested in a relationship, that you didn’t have time for someone else, that you were just waiting for a friend at that bar, but the matter of the fact was you knew. You knew it was going to be a meaningless encounter. You knew they were going to ask for sex eventually, and they were going to freak out when they learned that…
You know…
“I–I have my reasons. My career—”
“With all due respect, I’m gonna have to stop you right there with your bullshit,” Jess firmly interrupted you. “One bad apple does not define the entire bunch in the basket, you realize that, right?”
In theory, you did. In practice, hell to the no and all men could fuck right off.
It was years ago when you first started college. You did fall under someone’s spell pretty hard. He was very charming. Funny. Sexy. He made you feel a certain type of way for the first time. You even thought you could experience some of your other firsts with him in the long run.
‘In the long run’ being the keyword.
You didn’t want to get intimate with him when he wanted. From your perspective, he had nothing to lose; this was probably just going to be another hit-and-run for him. Call it old-fashioned or whatever, but you wanted your firsts to be meaningful. Preferably with someone you had sort of a connection with. Someone who cared about you. Someone patient. Someone who wouldn’t make this a scarring memory for the rest of your life.
The night you said a firm ‘No’ was the last day he talked to you. Credit where credit is due—he did give you a first. Your very first heartbreak. Just the very next day, you saw him making out with someone else at some party, and that was the day you said a heartfelt fuck you to everything even remotely related to love affairs.
Sex. Why did everything always have to be about sex?
You couldn’t really calculate that your aversion would last for years, but it did. Even after college. Even during law school. Even when you started your first job. You didn’t really care much for it, though. Your career took up almost all the space in your life, so you didn’t have much time for anything else as it was. But only after these three ladies at your firm approached you at lunch one day and basically adopted you into their little circle did you realize you were living in a completely different dimension.
You insisted you weren’t going to let anyone touch you unless you felt something for them, but the paradox here was that you were keeping everyone at an arm’s length. Several arms, for that matter.
“So, you think some random person should pop my cherry instead…”
“No! Oh god no, this isn’t about that,” Kim instantly shook her head. “You have to admit, you blow off everyone who tries to approach you. We just want you to see that the non-asshole genre of guys also exists.”
“Think of it as a blind date you’re gonna have a guaranteed good time with,” Marina enthusiastically added. “Everything’s going to be on your terms, and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, you can always leave. You don’t have to get intimate whatsoever.”
How adamant must you have been in your rejection of potential happiness because of your fears that your closest friends felt the need to arrange this pseudo-date for you? And you actually thought it was to get you laid? You genuinely felt bad for a second there for assuming the worst, and played with the envelope in your hand.
“Can I get store credit for it if I do?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, sweetie,” Jess couldn’t help her smile and unlocked her phone to show you a picture. “Just look at this and tell me the guy isn’t incredibly cute. He’s so your type!”
You grabbed the phone to look at the photograph of your date who allegedly had superpowers to change your world and almost fell off the couch. There was absolutely no fucking way he was real. Broad shoulders, incredibly pretty smile, and an aura of absolute class radiating off the screen. The man looked like a goddamn prince.
“I’m–I’m supposed to spend an evening with this guy?”
“And he’s going to be at your beck and call,” Kim hugged you from behind the couch. “You just do you and have a good time!”
On a normal day, this would have flustered you. The fact that this appointment took place on Valentine’s Day flustered you infinity times more.
That evening, you walked into the club having no clue what was in store for you or what you were going to say. You just grabbed the champagne glass offered to you upon entrance and sat down on a couch in the lounge area as if you were in some therapist’s waiting room. Somebody would eventually tell you that the doctor would see you now, right?
“Good evening.”
Hooooly shit!
Oh, he was real. He was real alright, and he was insanely good-looking in person. The way his buttoned-up blazer was tightly wrapped around his figure left very little to the imagination considering the amount of skin he was showing as if… he wasn’t wearing anything inside.
And this man was supposed to accompany you?
“My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host tonight.”
You looked up at him all stunned with your lips slightly parted, and eventually took the hand he extended for you to hold. When you got up, he kissed your hand to greet you, and you felt like you had to say something in return. Something level-headed. Something that showed elegance.
“I have absolutely no idea how this works and I’m awkward as fuck. I wholeheartedly apologize.”
You didn’t have any control over your words whatsoever—they completely forced themselves out of your lips. After a momentary silence, this dazzling man standing tall in front of you erupted into such a heartfelt laughter that you felt a piece of your worries as well as your heart melt away.
“Oh, I just know we’re gonna have an amazing time tonight,” he offered his arm for you to lock yours with. “Shall we?”
You linked your arm on autopilot and walked next to him into a hallway. It wasn’t much different than a hotel corridor. Four rooms on either side with identical doors. The numbers on them weren’t consecutive. He swiped a card on the lock of Room 1003 and gestured for you to walk in first into the extremely cozy-looking room with peaches and shades of warm beiges everywhere. The choice of the soft palette eased your restlessness a little bit and you made your way towards the dinner table for two, clearly waiting for you two to sit down.
“May I ask what brings you here tonight?” he started pouring the chilled wine into your glass.
“This was supposed to be a gift.”
“A Valentine’s gift?”
“Not exactly,” you fidgeted in your seat. “Today uh… Today’s actually my birthday.”
“Your birthday is on Valentine’s Day?”
You nodded. It was obvious you were going to nod a lot today. It was somewhat fine out in the lounge area, but now that you were alone with this ethereal being, your nervousness suddenly skyrocketed. What were words, where did your hands usually go, and why the fuck were you feeling like your feelings were written all over your face in bold fonts made of fire?
“Well, um… Do I get something like a manual for this? What–What am I supposed to do?”
“Anything you ask for,” Chris responded in a serene but deep tone. “We can spend one night in heaven. Or hell if that’s what you prefer. Nothing’s off limits. You just need to name it.”
It was an act. You always knew when it was an act. That was both the blessing and the curse of being a forever third wheel to your friends. You had way too much time on your hands to observe people. On the other hand, this was a service people fucking paid for—it was supposed to be an act.
If a genie appeared and said it could grant any and every wish, most people would use it to their advantage. Shapeshift it into the things they had always desired and finally satisfy their curiosities maybe.
But you weren’t most people.
“Look, I uh… Can I just ask for one thing?”
“Please. Anything.”
You placed your fork back on your plate and took a moment to pick your words carefully. This may have been a paid service, but that didn’t automatically give you the right to be rude.
“This is probably not gonna make any sense to you,” you examined the salad bowl a little too intently and finally lifted your eyes to meet his gaze, “but please don’t pretend to be someone you’re not tonight.”
You watched the little smile on his lips getting wiped out in slow motion. The expression on his face was a little hard to read. Was he offended? Mad? Confused? While you were on the brink of regretting all your life choices so far, all that echoed in your host’s mind was, Huh…
Chris was used to this being the other way around. Not that he ever complained—that was the product sold here after all. Fantasies. Over the years, he had developed such an intricate toolbox that he could whip out a trick that would cater to anything that was asked of him. He would create this enchanting dimension just for two people to grant a night that wouldn’t be easily forgettable.
No one ever popped that magic bubble right upon arrival.
“Are you sure? I’ve been told my default mode was an absolute dork who curses a lot.”
He was smiling, but the shade was much much different than the sultry dark reds he welcomed you with. This was sunset orange. This was ocean aqua. And he smelled like iodine all of a sudden. His posture visibly relaxed, and you relaxed along with him.
“I’ll take dorks over suave players any day of the week, otherwise this is going to feel like a dissertation defense to me,” you pushed your glass to him for a refill. “I’d be much more comfortable if we dropped the act.”
“Well, you asked for it. No takebacks,” he pointed his finger at you and served your drink. “So what would you like to do? We can watch a movie.”
“Suuuure, how about we change into PJs and stuff while we’re at it, huh?” you sarcastically chuckled.
“I mean that’s my uniform, so I’d say hell yeah,” Chris shrugged and took a bite from his food. You inspected his face to figure out how serious he really was.
“Wait, you don’t… You don’t actually have pajamas in this place, do you?”
He gracefully wiped his mouth, stood up, and walked to a closet nearby. You were bewildered out of your mind when you saw what was inside.
“I have silk and cotton pajamas, and also sweatshirts and hoodies,” he pointed at the shelves. “Just tell me what your preference is.”
You burst into a hysterical laughter fit. When your girls told you everything would be on your terms, you didn’t really expect it to be this literal.
“How about we talk first?” you made a counteroffer.
“Sure thing!”
This was supposed to simulate a date. A first date on your end. Your first date ever. What the fuck did people even do on first dates? What were the topics discussed, appropriate questions to ask, and—
“So, what do you do for a living?” he reached for his glass again and saved you from racking your brains out trying to fill in the audio feed of the room.
“I’m a lawyer.”
You flinched in your place when Chris spurted his drink out of genuine bafflement and let out an involuntary exclamation.
“The FUCK?!”
The three seconds that passed by in silence dragged on forever until the full comprehension of what he just said hit him in full force.
“Oh my god, I’m–I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
Your laughter rippled throughout the room, immediately softening his features since you didn’t seem to have taken offense at the vulgar exclamation.
“It’s okay!” you reassured him, still laughing while cutting the food on your plate. “You wouldn’t guess that in a million years, huh?”
“I honestly wouldn’t,” he drooped his shoulders and let himself lean back. “Then… Then how…?”
“...am I this awkward when I argue for a living?” you completed his sentence as you were used to the sentence pattern after years of practice. “That’s my job. Those skills aren’t exactly transferable to interpersonal relationships for me. Less so for romantic ones.”
He was looking at you with mouth still agape but eventually broke into a wide smile.
“If you don’t mind me saying this, that’s fucking fascinating,” he took a sip from his glass to refresh his brain. “Well? Got any questions for me?”
Of course you did. Were those dimples a family heirloom for example? Did he know his accent laced his dorkiness with a tinge of sexiness? Was he aware he was the first guy in a long while you weren’t scared shitless to be around?
“Why do they call you Nova?” you opted for a much different question instead.
“It’s when a star suddenly brightens in the sky,” he explained matter-of-factly, then sheepishly laughed to himself. “Well, that’s just the way I prefer it because it sounds meaningful. My crew actually gave me that name as short for Casanova.”
“I can see why,” you broke into a fond smile, admiring the features of this total ladies’ man. “How did you decide to work here?”
“I don’t just work here,” he responded. “I’m one of the owners of this club.”
“Seriously?!” it was your turn to be flabbergasted this time. “How did you even come up with this idea for a business?”
“I’ve always liked entertaining people. I figured why not do this for a living?”
Well, who were you to judge? Not everybody became severely crippled in social situations. And they most certainly did not load that much meaning into getting physical with someone. Still, you couldn’t help asking genuinely out of curiosity.
“Doesn’t it feel empty at times?” your voice came out somewhat small. “I–I’m not judging! It’s just that… Every night… Like, with different people… how do you…? In your regular life, I mean…”
“Are you trying to ask me whether I can still enjoy sex when I do this for a living?”
His warm smile evolved into a little chuckle when you nodded looking at your fingers.
“This is my job. And it’s about perspective. I approach this as collecting people,” he replied after swallowing his bite. “I really like listening to their stories if they are willing to tell them. Not every night ends with sex, nor should it. Sometimes people need company more than an escort that shows them a good time.”
A people collector, huh? In all honesty, you were expecting a testosterone-loaded answer, something along the lines of ‘Duh, I didn’t build this stamina for nothing,’ clumsily decorated with a smug grin, which would be your cue to leave. But Chris…
He was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.
“If you don’t mind me saying this, that’s just fascinating,” you echoed his earlier comment back to him, which prompted his dimples to grow deeper.
“Believe it or not, these skills aren’t exactly transferable to romantic relationships for me, either.”
“How come?”
“Being a host is much different than being in a relationship. People tend to confuse it more often than you think,” he opened his arms and gestured to the general direction of the room. “Here you can ask me to be whoever, but when we go home I can’t keep being who you expect me to be. It’s not really fair.”
Wasn’t that the celebrity syndrome if you thought about it? People would put someone on a pedestal thinking they were this flawless being, admired the version of them they built up in their head, then get disappointed as fuck when they realized they were worshipping a human being capable of making mistakes all along.
“Have you ever… you know, with a patron…?”
“Gone home?”
“I was actually going to say fallen in love.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, no to both,” he leisurely uttered and refilled both your glasses.
You picked up your refreshed glass and brought it to your lips, averting your eyes from him in the meantime. “I guess that would be counterproductive for your business.”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t think twice about my business if I met someone who swept me off my feet. Managerial roles exist, you know?”
It could be due to the cold wine you were downing, but you felt your cheeks getting warm.
“Then lucky for you this isn’t exactly an ideal place to meet someone like that,” you played with the edge of your linen napkin. “Since you need to be who they want you to be and all that.”
“You’re right,” he heaved a deep sigh and fixated his gaze on you. “It would be futile to wait for someone who will ask me to be my dork self to show up.”
You blushed harder when you looked up at him. He had the ghost of a smile on his face, but even that much was so beautiful. Your eyes darted to the fingers he was softly tapping on the table. He had nice hands. He had nicer eyes. He had the nicest soul, and he was starting to get to your head. You watched him reach for a remote behind him, and when he pressed a button, the soft melodies of a slow jam began to fill the room.
“Can I have this dance?”
Your hand reached out to his on its own, and once you established skin-to-skin contact, you felt yourself get up in slow motion. It wasn’t really a conscious decision; more like someone was controlling your movements and you were just watching it happen.
“You’re not used to letting go of control at all, are you?” he teasingly asked as you were swaying to the calm beats of the song.
“How… Why did you—?”
“Your posture tells your partner how to move,” he tapped on your tense shoulders. “Would you allow me to take the lead?”
Only then did you realize you were actually stiff as a rock. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to relax.
“Let’s just enjoy this,” he flashed one of his soothing smiles again.
Dancing. A socially acceptable activity even in public, but even that much was the most intimate you had ever been with someone. Chris was trying to keep a reasonable distance between you. It was easy for your sake, but it was hard as fuck at the same time because all he could think about was kissing you.
In a momentary lapse of sanity, you managed to keep eye contact with him. He had galaxies in his gentle eyes, and you watched a thousand novas going off in them every time the candlelight on the table flickered in his irises. You were feeling your existence melt away. His nose brushed against yours when he leaned in closer. It tickled you. Your gaze inadvertently darted to his moist lips, and you realized you were dying to know what they felt like.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
When he verbalized your exact thoughts back at you, the possibility of him reading minds scared the crap out of you, and your movements came to an abrupt stop.
“Did I say that out loud?” he immediately started panicking. “Shit, I’m–I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
A dork. But a very adorable one nevertheless, tugging at your heartstrings for whatever reason. When your laughter died down, you got closer to his face the tiniest measure. He accepted your invitation. It felt like a lifetime had passed when your lips finally touched.
He tasted like the vanilla ice cream and the strawberries he ate not too long ago. His lips were the softest thing you ever felt on your skin. So full, perfect texture. His tongue reached for yours at an unrushed pace and started dancing to the rhythm he was dancing with you. Slow. Languid. Warm. Seductive. Dangerously electric.
Everything you could possibly ask for your first kiss to be.
“How do you feel?” he asked once he managed to step away from you.
I’m dying, you wanted to say, I’m dying in your arms.
“Is my heart supposed to be racing?” you answered with your eyes still closed.
“Very much,” he softly chuckled. “That means I’m turning you on.”
Turning you on. This much. With a damn kiss. Barely touching you. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest, what the heck did he mean by simply turning you on?!
“There’s um… There’s something I need to tell you,” you hesitantly spoke.
“Yes?”
“I uh… I haven’t… I mean I don’t know…”
You felt his warm touch on your cheek. He was fondly smiling at you.
“I’m aware.”
“You are?”
“We need such information to cater to our patrons properly.”
Oh, of course. Part of you was relieved that he wasn’t able to deduce that simply by the fire billboard flashing on your face, but that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be the first case of death by mortification.
“It’s not just that,” you continued. “I don’t know what an— I–I don’t…”
“It’s okay,” he held your hands and placed little pecks on them. “Please be comfortable with me.”
You were on the brink of making a decision, so if you weren’t going to tell him now, then when? You cleared your throat and finally blurted it out.
“I’ve never had an orgasm before.”
“Oh…” he momentarily paused, then his features relaxed like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Oh, you mean like… except for… like, when you’re alone…”
“I haven’t even touched myself.”
“Really?”
“Well… yeah.”
“Is there… a reason? If you don’t mind me asking of course,” he quickly added not to overstep any boundaries.
“I just don’t know how,” you shrugged.
“To masturbate, you mean?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen porn or anything. I just…” you trailed off. “I can’t really picture myself with the people I see on the screen.”
“Well, haven’t you been curious at all?”
“Of course I have.”
Suddenly, his expression changed like he just cracked a case. His surprised gaze replaced itself with an infinitely compassionate one.
“It’s waiting for the right person thing, isn’t it?”
“Avoiding the wrong person is more like it,” you corrected him with a broken smile.
“I understand,” he brushed your hair behind your ears and switched to his cheery tone again. “We can spend the rest of the night chatting. It wasn’t a joke, by the way, I do have an extensive movie collect—”
“But you’re a little too good to be a mistake.”
Chris expected many things, all of which ended with you concluding the night right then and there, but this?
Not even in his wildest dreams.
“You–You mean…?”
“I want to,” you smiled at him for a change. It felt like you had reversed roles in a matter of seconds because it was him who seemed to be visibly flustered this time around.
“I wouldn’t want you to regret this. After all, I’m just an esc—”
“I’m a big girl capable of making her own decisions,” you interrupted him and put your hands on his shoulders. “You feel right to me.”
You could see how endeared he was, but that lasted maybe only a couple of seconds. His smile shapeshifted into a mischievous grin solely targeted at flustering you.
“So you’re giving me the honor of finishing you for the first time?”
Your jaw dropped at how shamelessly he said that with his whole chest, and the first thing your instincts told you was to slap him on his biceps really hard. Chris immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck, very pleased with his teasing attempt, and laughed against your skin. You were riddled with a warm and fuzzy feeling from head to toe.
“We’ll take it slow,” he held the tip of your chin and got closer to your face with every word. “So slow I may frustrate you a little bit.”
You could feel his smile on your lips, but it didn’t stay there for too long when he started losing himself and deepening the kiss more and more. You grabbed his hands and slid them down to your waist.
“Is it okay?”
“You don’t have to ask for permission for everything,” you encouraged him.
“But I do,” he insisted. “I need to know you’re comfortable.”
You just kissed him in response. What else could you do but keep kissing him so that he knew how much you really wanted this?
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered against your skin with his eyes closed. “I kinda can’t believe we’re about to do this.”
You inadvertently giggled. The last time you checked, this man was an escort who slept with people for a living. Why would he even get this excited over the prospect of sex?
“What are you talking about? You do this all the time.”
“I haven’t been lucky enough to host someone who asked for me before,” he spoke earnestly. “It doesn’t feel like you’re a patron.”
Your heart swelled a couple of times its size in your chest. You shook your head to alleviate the emotions flooding you and attempted to change the atmosphere.
“So tell me, what are dorks like in bed?”
“Very horny pleasers,” he responded with a straight face and pulled you in for a kiss again.
You let him guide you to the bedroom while his lips were still glued to yours. Once you reached the edge of the bed, he broke the kiss and slowly turned you around to unzip the back zipper of your dress. His thumbs brushed against your shoulder blades and you felt his lips on your neck.
“Take my clothes off, too,” he whispered into your ear.
You faced him again and started unbuttoning his blazer, lowkey wondering whether your suspicions were true. When you loosened the last button and exposed his torso, you gulped so loudly that there was no way he didn’t notice it.
He really wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and that view was nothing short of magnificent.
His fingers traveled to your shoulders, and he slowly dragged your straps down to put you both on equal grounds from the waist up.
“May I?” he pulled you closer from your waist.
“Yes to everything. Don’t ask.”
He started massaging your breasts ever so softly and laid you down on the bed to place kisses on them. Then he put your hand on his waistband to signal you to take it off. As you dragged down the zipper of his pants, he rid you of your dress. It was just you in your underwear now. He rested his back against the headboard and shifted your body to seat you in his lap, your back against his chest.
“Comfortable?”
“Mhm.”
His hand slid down your thighs and started caressing them, sneakily making its way towards your clothed pussy staining the layer of fabric it was covered by.
“I need to get you wet first before we actually fuck.”
He felt it. He felt how hard you throbbed under his touch when he used that word.
And he absolutely loved it.
“Do you like it when I call it fucking?”
“I do.”
“Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?” his other hand reached for your breast as he kept whispering into your ear. “Does it turn you on?”
“It tightens knots in my stomach,” you wiggled in your place. “Just what are you doing to me?”
“I’m loving you,” he kissed your temple. “I want you to enjoy me.”
It could be because your eyes were closed, but the impact of his voice on you quadrupled all of a sudden. It was smooth like satin and deep like a chasm, and you had no choice but to surrender to it.
“Look up,” he touched your chin to prompt you to open your eyes. “We look a little too good, don’t you reckon?”
When you finally snapped them open, you were greeted by the sight of you spread out in his lap half naked and one of his hands sliding behind the lace hiding you from him in the mirror on the ceiling. A part of you wanted to keep looking, but another part of you was absolutely mortified.
“It’s okay,” he hugged you tighter. “I’m right here.”
He delicately brushed three of his fingers against your pussy lips, then pressed them on your clit. You felt them moving in a circular motion.
“Is the pressure okay?”
You wanted to say yes, but you forgot how to talk. You just let him keep rubbing you tenderly like he was petting you.
“How does it feel? Tell me.”
“It’s… strange,” you managed to utter. “I mean… It–It feels good, but I’m… I’m very lightheaded.”
“It’s alright. I got you.”
As he continued his ministrations, you sank into his chest more. The only sound you were able to produce was your soft moans, absolute music to his ears.
“I’m… I feel something tightening,” you squeezed his hand tightly while heavily panting. “Is that supposed to happen?”
“Where?”
“Where you’re… Where you’re touching.”
This was the last situation Chris thought he would find himself endeared, but there he was. He watched you in the mirror with an extremely fond smile on his face.
“Yes, you’re about to cum,” he kissed your temple again. “I’m gonna finish you, and it’s gonna feel fucking fantastic.”
Finishing you. That was what he called your climax. He might as well have called it murdering you because your first ever orgasm felt like ripping out your own flesh to get out of your body. You thought you were going to be launched all the way up to the stratosphere, but he tightly wrapped one arm around your waist as if to keep you grounded. To tell you that he was right there with you and he wasn’t going to let you go astray. When your consciousness started coming back to you, all you could feel was his little kisses all over your face.
“Shall we find out what else you like?”
He lay you down on the soft mattress and took the opportunity of you still being high off your orgasm to completely strip you. He could finally see you as you were. Bare. Yourself. The contraction of your inner walls about to die down. He descended between your legs and pecked your thighs to make his way up. To your lips. Then your folds. He was beyond satisfied to witness the sheen of gloss covering you because of him from that up close.
“Can I lick you?”
“Where?!” you plopped up on your elbows in panic.
“Right here,” he placed a kiss on your pussy.
You were so embarrassed that you let yourself fall back into the bed and nodded after pressing your hands on your eyes. He kind of wished he could tell you how cute he thought your shyness was.
When he closed those perfect lips of his on your still buzzing clit and started gently sucking on it, you instantly arched towards him.
“What is this?!”
He contently hummed, and you heard his soft chuckle against you.
“It’s just me pleasuring you. Just enjoy it.”
You didn’t know whether you should be concerned or not; something was spreading from your core to the rest of your body. It was a very unfamiliar feeling. His fresh iodine scent was enveloping you, and when you closed your eyes, it felt like a cool ocean wave was washing over you. It felt good.
It felt really good.
“Your taste is unreal,” he spoke against your cunt soaked with a mixture of his spit and your arousal. “Hold my hands.”
He increased his pace and the pressure on your clit. When you mustered enough courage to open your eyes, you looked up in the mirror to watch him going to town on you, and it was such an earthshattering view that it charred itself behind your eyelids forever. His eyes were closed, and he was moaning against your cunt with every suck. You squeezed his hands tighter as you felt the buildup inside you peaking again. It was satisfying. Like scratching an itch. And you were about to combust.
“You’re gonna cum again,” he tenderly pecked your glistening folds. “It might feel more intense this time.”
“GOD!!!”
He did tell you it could feel more intense. You felt the words hit your ears, but you could never ever prepare yourself for this. When he hit the home run with rapid laps on your swollen clit, you felt like dying, violently thrashing under him with excessive pleasure.
“And?” he climbed over your body and brought his face closer to yours.
“Fantastic,” you burst into a peal of involuntary laughter, drowned in kisses while coming down.
“Now onto more of the good stuff,” he looked into your eyes. “You said you didn’t picture yourself with the people in the porn you watched.”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t exactly say you didn’t like the things you’ve seen.”
Busted. You were really hoping that little detail slipped past him, but unfortunately…
“Did you?” he insisted with a playful smile.
You were beet red, trying to look at somewhere that wasn’t him, but it wasn’t that easy when he had you trapped under his frame.
“It’s okay. Everything you tell me is forever between us,” he lightly stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. “Tell me so I can satisfy you better. What did you see that you liked?”
You had never talked to anyone about such things before. Not even during drunk ladies’ nights, let alone with a partner in your bed. He followed your gaze wherever it tried to escape and you eventually caved.
“Okay, uh… It wasn’t porn. It was… it was a movie.”
“Mhm?” he started playing with your hair.
“There was um… there was this couple.”
“Mhm?”
“They were… married.”
“And?”
“And they decided to… to try for a kid.”
“You want us to try for a kid, baby?”
Who the fuck talks like that?!!!
He said that so damn brazenly that you didn’t even know how to respond to him. It wasn’t only what he said, but the way he said it, and how he chose to fucking address you.
“Oh, GOD, not… Not uh… not exactly.”
“Then tell me,” he brushed his nose against yours.
You swallowed in an attempt to soothe your dry throat, but it didn’t help much.
“They didn’t show it on the screen, but… the man said… he said…”
“Yes?”
“He said how beautiful his wife’s… tits were going to be once… once she got pregnant.”
“Because they’re going get bigger?”
He felt it again. He felt how hard you throbbed against his rock hard cock this time.
“Y–Yes.”
“Would you let me taste your milk, too?”
He ghosted his lips against your breasts. You almost passed out anticipating that kiss on your sensitive skin, involuntarily moaning when he closed his mouth on your nipple. His warm tongue swirled around the hardened flesh as he sucked on it.
“They’ll be really sensitive you know,” he spoke very softly. “Rumor has it I may even make you cum from that. Would you let me make you cum from that?”
He was doing it again, whispering a bunch of audacious words to fluster you, to tease you, and you had less than zero idea why it was doing things to your insides.
“What if you squirted your milk on my cock? What if both of us mixed together tasted incredible?” he filled his lungs to the brim with your scent. “And what if you let me taste our flavor from these lips?”
When you closed your eyes, you could feel his sentences touching all over your body. You were feeling weaker with every word. Warmer. Wetter.
“There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to satisfy you,” he confessed in hushed tones as if giving you a secret. “It’s not an act. I mean it.”
You sneaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.
“Can we… Can we now…?”
“You want to?”
“Yes.”
“You know what that means, though, right?” he asked somewhat seriously. “You’re gonna be mine. For good.”
It was crazy. The things you were feeling, that you wanted to do were completely batshit crazy, but nothing about that night was within the realm of reason anyway. You kissed him a little too enthusiastically than you intended.
“When you’re about to cum,” you looked dead into his eyes, “I don’t want you to pull out.”
‘Shocked’ didn’t even begin to describe the expression on his face. Something glinted in his eyes. Something delirious. It was so obvious what you just said excited him beyond control, but he was trying so hard to restrain it.
“Are you… Are you seri—?”
“Yes.”
And when you uttered the one word he was secretly hoping to hear, Chris lost his entire shit.
“God, let me fucking breed you.”
He unleashed himself on your lips, and it was nothing like the kisses you had shared so far. So damn intense. Like he was trying to inhale you whole. You wished he kept cursing like that for the rest of the night because by god nothing could be that sexy.
“Tell me when you want me to go deeper, okay baby?”
You watched him align himself with your entrance and began fucking into you with very shallow thrusts. Even when he met resistance, he could feel your drenched walls clenching around him.
“You feel so fucking good, it’s insane” he moaned breathlessly. “Look how perfectly you fit around me.”
You didn’t even know where to touch him. You wanted to feel every inch of him. All over you. With wild abandon.
“How does it feel inside?”
“I’m so dizzy,” you clung to his arms, way too consumed with your hunger for him.
“I’ll fill you up so good it’s gonna gush out of you, you know,” his movements started quickening.
“Breed me,” you sank your fingertips deeper into his skin. “Fuck, breed me!!!”
“First time you cursed,” he smiled in pure rapture. “Say it again. Say what you want me to do.”
“Fuck me deeper.”
“Good girl,” he lifted your legs up and angled himself towards his new target.
He dove deep into your lips as his thrusts started becoming deeper. The drops of sweat were dripping from his forehead on your chest while he was paving his way into you. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper until you felt something snap and finally break free, immediately inducing an arson all over your body.
It felt fucking spectacular inside you.
“This is only our first time. We have so many nights ahead of us,” he kissed your forehead. “You’re gonna learn how to take your man. I’ll teach you.”
“Faster,” you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. “Go faster. I’m so—”
“But you’re already taking me so well, aren’t you?”
The way he talked to you like that… He knew what he was doing to you, and you fucking loved every bit of it.
“I wanna keep loving you like this,” he picked up his pace and started fucking into you with unmatched fervor. “Just let me.”
And it was the last straw when he began stimulating your clit with his thumb.
“I’m–I’m fucking cumming!!!”
You violently arched into him as he held you and fucked you through your orgasm. His muffled grunts sounded delicious in your mouth. You felt amazing. You felt loved.
And you didn’t feel like this was enough.
“I want to… Want…” your hands reached for his crotch.
“Wanna taste me, too?”
“Y–Yes.”
He immediately obliged and laid down on his back to watch you blow him. He tasted like you. The second you took him in the warmth of your mouth, he started moaning your name so deep from his throat that you couldn’t help clenching. It felt so good to satisfy him, watching him crumble under you like that.
“Like that. Just like that. I’m–I’m so close.”
He attempted to pull away so that he could spill elsewhere, but you didn’t stop.
“Baby, please. I’m not… I’m not gonna last.”
Baby. He called you baby again. When he was in your mouth. When you were sucking his soul out of him. The urge to make him cum got very real very fast all of a sudden.
“If you— Fuck, if you keep going I can’t… I can’t…”
You replicated the trick he did for you and began moaning against his cock. It took only mere seconds until he fucking exploded inside your mouth with very loud groans. Thick, bitter liquid shooting down your throat like that should have felt nasty maybe, but it felt like an act of love instead. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
When he finally calmed down, he pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed your face off. He could taste himself on your tongue. You thought the layer of regret would start to surface then. You thought you would be yelling at yourself what the fuck you were thinking losing your virginity to an escort, but as far as you were concerned, you lost it to some dorky star shining blindingly bright.
And you couldn’t feel happier about it.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fucking fantastic,” you flashed a fucked out smile to him. “I’ve had a great time tonight.”
He reciprocated the curls on your lips and started playing with your hair again.
“Would it… be okay if we… spent more time together?”
“If this is your way of inviting me back here, I’ll have you know this place is not exactly wallet-friendly.”
“I’m actually inviting you out,” he shifted his gaze from your hair to your eyes. “Dorks can cook really well, too, you know.”
He was not insinuating what you thought he was insinuating because there was absolutely no fucking way—
“Are you…? What are you…?”
“I was hoping for a little more than a patron-host relationship.”
Stunned. Speechless. Floored, even. You forgot all the words in your vocabulary, just blinking at him with mouth agape.
“I’d understand if you don’t want to. I mean who would want to go on a date with an escort, right?” he briefly averted his gaze. His hand reached to caress your face when he mustered the courage to look at you again. “But I was going to regret it if I didn’t shoot my shot. You wanna… see where this goes?”
As a tiny bit of your wits came back to you, you insisted on holding his gaze this time.
“Why would you do that for me?”
“I’m doing it for me. I wanted to get to know the woman who asked me to drop the act,” his thumb brushed against your lips. “I don’t feel like letting this go yet.”
Funny, wasn’t it? You had avoided every advance ever for fear of being left high and dry, scared of not being wanted after giving someone what they were really after. The day you decided to say fuck it to everything, with an escort no less, he was asking you whether you wanted to see… where this would go.
Life was sometimes just one big ironic bitch, wasn’t it?
“I think I’d like that,” you replied to him, “but no sex until after the fifth date. I’m not that easy.”
He burst into a giggling fit, immediately followed by kisses all over your face.
“Can I have this dance again?” he asked lovingly, the stars in his eyes shooting into yours as if they were coming back home.
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