— this is how i imagined each of straykids members do when they try to muffle their moans by biting on your flesh as they fucked the shit out of you. forget restraint, they need grounding.
HEY— this is an 18+ post! please proceed witu viewer's descretion as this piece contains graphic smut thenes not suitable for minor readers. MDNI!!!!
CHRISTOPHER CHAHN BAHNG
Chan tries so hard to stay in control, but when he’s buried deep inside you, that control slips. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you with deep, powerful strokes. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin.
Every time he thrusts particularly hard, a low, guttural groan tries to escape him. He bites down on your shoulder, not too hard at first, but firm enough to muffle the sound. “Fuck… you feel too good,” he growls against your skin, teeth sinking deeper as his hips snap forward. His bites are possessive but caring, leaving clear marks he’ll kiss tenderly later.
He loves the way your body jolts when he bites harder, the way you clench around him. “Sorry, baby… can’t help it,” he rasps, voice strained, before biting again to silence another moan as he pounds into you. His hands grip your waist tightly, using your body as leverage while his teeth stay latched onto your shoulder or neck. When he gets close, his bites become more desperate and messy, almost like he’s trying to ground himself. He cums with his teeth sunk into your skin, groaning deeply into your flesh as he fills you up. Afterwards, he licks and kisses every bite mark apologetically while whispering how perfect you are.
LEE LEEKNOW MINHO
Minho is a teasing sadist even when he’s losing control. He has you on all fours, one hand fisted in your hair as he fucks you hard from behind. Every deep thrust makes him groan, and instead of letting the sounds out freely, he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade.
The bite is sharp and deliberate, meant to muffle his pretty moans. “Quiet… or I’ll bite harder,” he whispers, voice sweet but threatening, right before his teeth dig in again. He loves the way you whimper when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him. He alternates between soft, teasing nips and hard, possessive bites that leave clear teeth marks.
He’ll bite the back of your neck, your shoulder, even the curve of your waist if he can reach it. Each bite is accompanied by a low, muffled groan that vibrates against your skin. When he’s close, his rhythm becomes punishing and his bites turn almost feral. He cums with his teeth sunk deep into your shoulder, groaning loudly into your skin as he fills you. Afterwards, he licks the bite marks almost apologetically while calling you his pretty kitten.
SEO CHANGBIN
Changbin is loud, intense, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s lost in you. He has you bent over the edge of the bed in a deep doggy-style position, his powerful body completely covering yours from behind. His thick, muscular thighs slap against the back of yours with every brutal thrust, the sound wet and obscene in the room.
Every time his fat cock slams deep into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, a deep, guttural groan builds in his chest. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest against your back, and sinks his teeth hard into your shoulder. The bite is strong and possessive, his jaw clenching as he muffles a loud, animalistic moan against your skin.
“Fuck— baby, you’re so tight,” he growls, voice deep and rough, the words vibrating through his teeth into your flesh. His massive hands grip your snatchable waist tightly, fingers digging deep into your soft skin as he uses your body like a handle to pull you back onto his thick cock. The contrast is overwhelming. His huge, muscular frame against your smaller one, his teeth sunk into your shoulder while he pounds you mercilessly.
The position lets him hit even deeper, and his muffled moans become louder, more broken. He growls into your skin, teeth clenched tight as his hips stutter. He cums with a loud, deep, muffled roar, sinking his teeth hard into your shoulder as thick ropes of cum flood deep inside you. His whole body shakes against yours, muscles flexing as he holds you in place, refusing to let go until he’s completely emptied himself.
HWANG HYUNJIN
Hyunjin turns even something as raw as biting into something almost poetic. He has you riding him slowly, his back against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you sink down onto his cock. His head falls back at first, long hair messy, lips parted in pleasure. But as the intensity builds and his thrusts become deeper, needy moans start slipping out.
He suddenly leans forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck and shoulder. His teeth graze your skin teasingly at first, then sink in with a low, breathy groan that vibrates against you. “You feel too good… I can’t stay quiet,” he whispers hotly before biting harder, teeth pressing into your soft flesh as he snaps his hips up sharply.
The bite is firm but graceful enough to leave a clear imprint, but never truly painful. He loves the way your body jolts when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him in response. His long fingers dig into your waist as he uses your body to bounce you harder on his cock. Every deep thrust is paired with a new bite. On your collarbone, the top of your breast, the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.
Then he'd moans against your skin, teeth grazing before sinking in again. His voice is breathy and beautiful, even when muffled. As he gets closer, his bites become more desperate, almost frantic. He holds you down on his cock with one hand on your waist while his mouth stays latched onto your shoulder, moaning loudly into your skin as he cums deep inside you. Afterward, he gently kisses and licks every bite mark, admiring how pretty they look on your skin while whispering how perfect you are.
HAN JISUNG
Jisung is loud, desperate, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s inside you. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you hard and fast. His face is buried in your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin with every thrust.
Every time his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you, a loud, broken moan tries to escape him. He solves it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the sound against your skin. “Fuck— baby, you feel so good I can’t—,” he whimpers before biting down harder, teeth digging in as his hips snap forward desperately.
His bites are messy and needy, lots of small, overlapping marks all over your shoulders, neck, and collarbone. He can’t control himself. The harder he pounds into you, the harder he bites, using your body to muffle his loud, whiny moans. “I’m sorry— you’re too tight,” he whines pathetically against your skin, teeth still latched on.
When he gets close, his thrusts turn frantic and sloppy. He buries his face completely in your neck and bites down hard on your shoulder as he cums, moaning loudly into your flesh while filling you up. His whole body shakes against you. Even after he finishes, he keeps his teeth gently pressed against your skin for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before he starts kissing and licking the marks apologetically.
LEE FELIX YONGBOK
Felix’s deep voice makes his muffled moans incredibly sexy. He has you in missionary, body pressed close to yours as he fucks you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin.
Every time he bottoms out, a low, rumbling groan builds in his chest. He muffles it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the vibration of his deep voice traveling straight through the bite. “You feel so fucking good, angel,” he groans against your skin before biting harder, teeth pressing firmly into your flesh as he grinds deep.
His bites are sensual and possessive. He loves leaving a trail of marks across your shoulders and chest. The combination of his deep voice, his teeth on your skin, and his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming. He’ll switch between soft, teasing nips and harder bites that make you gasp. “Can’t stay quiet when you’re this tight around me,” he moans, voice beautifully low even when muffled.
When he’s close, his thrusts become deeper and more intense. He holds you tightly and bites down on your neck as he cums, groaning deeply into your skin while filling you up. The feeling of his teeth and his low, vibrating moans pushes you over the edge with him. Afterward, he gently kisses every bite mark, his deep voice soft and loving as he tells you how perfect you felt.
KIM SEUNGMIN
Seungmin tries to stay composed, but you feel too good for him to stay quiet. He has you pinned beneath him, fucking you with sharp, precise thrusts. His face is in your neck, and every time a moan threatens to slip out, he bites down on your shoulder.
The bite is firm and teasing. “Can’t even stay quiet for me?” he mocks softly against your skin before sinking his teeth in again. His bites are tender, never too painful, but hard enough to leave clear marks and make you whimper. He loves the way you clench around him when he bites. “Pathetic… getting wetter every time I bite you.”
He keeps one hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he has better access to your neck and shoulder. His thrusts are relentless, each one paired with a new bite. When he’s close, he bites down harder, muffling his rare but beautiful moans as he cums deep inside you. And even that bite couldn't hide how desperate his moans are spilling ending up with his whole body rigid. Afterwards, when you tried to open it up with he'll act as if that thing never happened.
YANG JEONGIN
Jeongin gets surprisingly possessive and eager when pleasure overwhelms him. He has you in doggy style or spooning, body pressed close as he fucks you hard. His face is buried in the back of your neck or shoulder, breathing heavily.
Every deep thrust makes him moan, so he solves it by biting down on your shoulder. “Noona… you feel too good,” he groans before sinking his teeth in, trying to muffle the sound. His bites start a little shy but quickly become more confident and possessive. He loves leaving marks on you, clear evidence that he was there.
As he gets more lost in pleasure, his bites become harder and more frequent. He grips your waist tightly with one hand while biting your shoulder, using your body to pull you back onto his cock. “I can’t stop… you’re too tight,” he whimpers against your skin, teeth still latched on. When he cums, he bites down firmly on your shoulder, groaning into your flesh as he fills you up, making up pull his head up just so he could gasp the pleasure out. Afterward, he becomes very soft and clingy, kissing the bite marks gently while asking if he was too rough.
chan’s hips have been snapping against yours for the latter half of the hour tonight. really, you shouldn’t have done what you did. it was a quick, off handed, self deprecating remark about yourself, and just like that, chan had enough.
he was already feeling on edge from the studio. and now he felt like he failed you to not reassure you enough. that’s how you got yourself here.
you can’t apologize. not because you’re being a brat or doing anything on purpose, but rather because chan has you laid prone on your stomach as his hips feverishly snap against your ass. making it quite literally impossible to reply outside of breathy moans being punched from your lungs. repeated motions that have had you crying into the pillow your face is sunken into.
“c’mon baby, you can do it… say “i’m sorry channie”… f-fuckin’ hell!”
chan’s body slowly comes down onto yours, his chest flush against your back as his arms ensnare around your shoulder. his head drops to the back of yours, his voice a low rasp of heavy breathing. his hips slow to grind against the plush of your ass, rocking and rutting into the wetness of your arousal. his panting turns into a low growl at your refusal.
“pretty girl… sweet baby, say it. say it and i’ll make you cum so good.”
meanwhile, you’re just a mess under him. head turned slightly as his bicep wraps under your chin, hands clawing at his strong arms. eyes bleary and wet with tears from how good it feels every time he quickly bottoms out and fills you so right. the sounds are obscene, salacious squelches as he drags every drop out of you. and you’ll do just the same to him if you keep fluttering around him like that.
“‘m s-sorry, cha— haah— channie! it feels so good, so good, please don’t stop!”
chan smiles to himself as he drags out a moan from his chest, laughing in a way that pinches off at the end in a high whine. his brows furrow and eyes close, slowing his movement down to fuck himself deeper.
“that wasn’t so h-hard now, was it, pretty thing…?” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip to catch himself from drooling down your back. his hands pin your lower back down to the bed, forcing a nasty arch that makes you sob in equal parts relief and overstimulation.
“who’s my good girl, yeah? is that you? am i fucking my good girl stupid right now? huh? m-my beautiful good girl…”
chan’s sentences are punctuated with deep strokes, feeling his pelvis thrust and rock against you in languid motions. his words are overwhelming but that’s what he wants. you were just being so mean to the woman he loves, which is you.
“are you going to keep fighting with yourself or let me fuck you good, gorgeous?” chan heaves out, his chest pressing against your shoulder blades as he kisses into your hair. he ducks his head to lick a stripe up your spine to your neck, and chuckles a moan when he feels how squirmy and whiny you get. your moans are almost sobs from how his plush mushroom tip is kissing against that sensitive spot inside.
“sweetheart,” he drawls out, almost in a singsong voice. “you’re so… very precious… perfect girl, yeah? thank you f-for— fuck— sharing this perfect body.”
those deep strokes are reciprocated with your pussy squeezing him so tight chan swears he might be able to taste the stars. and because chan knows how to elevate your orgasm…
“sh-shit baby, breathe… breathe, just breathe, let it happen babygirl—”
a few inhales and exhales, and chan is wrapping that bicep around to grab your face. he loves that teary look in your eyes, like it feels too good to do anything but cry. your pussy is clenching on him like a vice, the sweet slapping and mixing of fluids…
he can’t help it, chan brings his lips hovering over yours, whispering, “i love you, sweetheart… cum for me.”
there’s a ringing in your ears when it happens, the churning of the knot builds so quick, you don’t even have time to think. chan’s groan bleeds into a whimper the second he feels your tight cunt shudder with shocks, milking him and causing his own release. the hiccuped sobs of moans you release have him praying the walls are thick enough to hide from neighbors. chan wants them all to himself.
he presses as deep as he can to flood you with hot cum, kissing all over your face from tears. your skin is tacky with sweat and stunning in the afterglow. chan runs his hands over your sweat slicked forehead, pushing back anything still sticking to you.
“don’t ever say that stuff again, baby… yeah…? you did such a good job, sweetheart… such a perfect and sweet girl…”
chan smacks a kiss to your temple, laying his weight down on your back. your eyes are already drooping from contentedness while he traces patterns onto your hip. his initials. little hearts. swirls that never end.
“i’m here to protect you from all of that… always.”
—
author's note: well… this is unexpected! thank you for 900 followers i love you guys so much :’) final exams are biting my ass right now
all the things i’ve been seeing about chan’s shoulders got me thinking and going a little feral 😵💫
18+, 18+!! i swear if i need to block another goddamn minor i will go insane.
“Shit baby… feel s’good,” Chan moaned, hips slamming against yours, his low grunts ‘n groans right in your ear. His body completely caging yours, forearms resting on the bed next to your head, head dropped.
Your moans spilled out of your mouth continuously, Chan hitting that spot almost every thrust. Quickly pushing you farther and farther to another orgasm- you’re third just tonight.
The two of yous sounds were obscene
“T-too much!” You managed to get out, your arms tightening around his neck, just to move and scratch his shoulders.
“You can take it angel, i know you can. Been so long since we’ve seen each other, just one more?” Chan gets out through laboured breaths. One of his hands moving to softly hold your head- his form of comfort even as he wrecks you.
You whine at his words, but don’t refuse. Instead tightening your legs hold around his hips and pulling him closer somehow.
The pleasure was so good and overwhelming, you couldn’t handle it. That on top of your embarrassing sounds was too much- you bit his shoulder again. The firm muscles Chans built over the years being perfectly biteable.
“Atta girl,” Chan chuckled, feeling your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hand holding your head ruffling your hair. A fond, unmatching-with-the-scene smile making its way to his face. “You’re adorable.”
➥ Contains: No SKZ: fellas are in some imaginary group bc they be toxic, down horrendous Hyunjin agenda™, an unhinged kiwi, Chris the Hyun whisperer, idol industry diss, meta fandom shenanigans, doubling tripling down on the delulu because it's the solulu, gratuitous amounts of Hyunchanner fan service because i can, insane shit then wholesomeness midfuck per youzhe
➥ Reader discretion advised: See the masterlist for the full disclaimer about this project, general warnings, and request guidelines. By continuing, you accept to read at your own risk.
⚠ — (Non-exhaustive, full cw policy here): Corruption fetishism, objectification, MMF, sex with other people present in the room, overall irrational behavior
➥ Hyunjin doesn’t fuck around when it comes to biases—if you’re ulting him, you’re ulting him, period. If you can so casually announce you’re getting “biaswrecked”, he can and will wreck you back.
But sign the NDA first.
*a/n: Back on my irregularly scheduled Derangedjin bullshit because June sucked.
I just want to receive love.
Ask any survival show contestant why they want to become an idol, and that’s the bullshit they’ll feed you with a wholesome smile, which is the politically correct way of saying, “I want to be worshipped.” No one even judges them for it because new gods on the block will always be in demand.
Fresh meat and whatnot, you know.
The only catch is you’re no longer allowed to worship anyone if you have worshippers yourself. Have you ever seen a god who simps for her own devotees?
Please.
If you “make it”, there is only one law you have to abide by—stick to your meticulously crafted persona and be generous with fanservice, and almost a decade into his career, Hyunjin hasn’t had a problem with it. He does study the faces of his “regulars” before he goes into fancalls. He does flirt a little extra with them at fansigns, holding their hands a little longer, a little tighter, less tsun more dere, even sharing little intimate details of his private life only they are privy to.
Well, allegedly.
That’s the least he can do for his off-the-books sugar mamas, no? He is a part of a grand romance scam after all.
It doesn’t mean he’s never struggled with keeping up the act, of course. With all the things he has to suppress, all the things he cannot scream at certain entitled brats’ faces, some days he does come very very close to snapping. What’d you expect? He is trapped in a life he hates doing something he loves.
Which is why it’s Stockholm as fuck that he’s found distraction from his delulu dealer duties by completely leaning into it.
It’s not even guilty, just pure pleasure for him to browse through fan work. As if he needs any more reasons to inflate his behemoth of an ego… Over time, his fandom has become a point of pride with him—so much talent scratching his Stendhal itch just right. The origin point doesn’t matter; the end result is still solid fucking art. It’s like he’s the Beatrice to a thousand Dantes.
Maybe “Like artist, like fan” does have some merit to it.
The literature department of his counterfeit Renaissance cult is where things get a little more unhinged. Some of these people write him so vividly, so intensely sexy that if Hyunjin could fuck himself, he would. It’s kinda disappointing that there is a strict hush-hush rule about fan spaces, which forces him to pretend he doesn’t know what a Kinktober is. Otherwise, he would have loved to send some flowers, signed merch, fucking fan club membership as a thank you for all the nuts busted. When the average market value for life-changing orgasms is in three to four digits, a cup of coffee seems criminally low.
Is it still sex work if someone makes you cum without touching you at all?
Among the sea of creators he religiously follows, of course he has favorites, and whoever goes by zipcode10320 tops that chart. He finds the hardcore shipping fucking hilarious, but he actually respects the preferred method of worship. The thirst might be heavy, but unlike the bitches practically living outside his apartment, it’s at least from a non-suffocating distance.
From a... distance...
anonymous asked:
what if hyunjin is deadass reading you lol
A decade-long career with a fake boyfriend side hustle. Five restraining orders. Three court appearances. Endless blacklists…
Hyunjin lived to see the day where it’s the distance that suffocates him.
He never thought one day he’d find himself on the other side of the fence like this. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t tell what it is about this person he’s so hung up on. He has a battalion of authors writing about him, so what’s so special about this one? Is it a style thing? Is it the subject matter? Why is he looking forward to the next character he’ll play like it’s the next season of his favorite show? Why is he getting this ticklish feeling for no reason whenever he scrolls through a new drop in his bed? It’s as if the words are laced with something because he only feels it when he reads.
But what the fuck IS IT that he’s feeling?!
zipcode10320 replied:
im pretty sure he has a life 🤣 on the super off chance that he does tho, hi bby save me from my misery and swipe my v-card plz 💋
Huh…
Well, now he knows.
So it wasn’t for no reason that he turned into a shark—there was blood in the water, and it reeked of the proverbial innocence. So all that lustful longing you keep writing… All that unhinged sex you keep depicting…
Is that…? How you want to be…? By him?
It’s too late when he realizes his fascination with the “art” has turned into something else entirely, but he can’t stop it. He just can’t! It’s in his every waking thought that someone out there loves him just a few drops shy of unconditionally, wanting him with lust so carnal that the desire can no longer stay inside its shell. It jumps into a getaway car with words for engine and fucks right off, all gas no brakes, because it has to get to him as fast as it can. It has to exist in the same corporeal realm as Hyunjin so it can call out to him. It’s in his every waking thought that a god out there compulsively conjures little Hyuniverses, unable to contain the fond smile whenever they doodle his name on a surface, be it cellulose or binary codes.
Hyunjin as a psycho.
Hyunjin as a prince.
Hyunjin as a psycho prince.
Hyunjin as the meaning of life.
Hyunjin as the meaning of MY life.
Hyunjin.
Hyunjin.
HYUNJIN!!!
anonymous asked:
if he asks you to give your virginity to him ur ACTUALLY gonna say yes?
zipcode10320 replied:
who tf says no to hwang hyunjin fucking BET!!!
anonymous asked:
what if he’s a freak tho
zipcode10320 replied:
if the freak is me getting sandwiched between hyunchan i volunteer as tribute thank 😌
anonymous asked:
what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol
zipcode10320 replied:
even IM not that delulu bro cmon
Well, maybe you should get on his delulu level because there is some freak that needs to be matched here. It’s okay if you can’t right from the get-go; he has all the time in the world for you. He can show you everything. How to match it. How to get him there. How he will get you there. Everything. Everything you can imagine, he will teach you with utmost care.
But he needs to complete a little self-assigned mission first.
He starts bringing his notebook to every single fan event to take notes of his interactions. Mannerisms, tone of voice, clothes worn that day, some word that sticks out to him… Whenever someone asks what he’s writing so fervently, his go-to excuse is, “Things that inspire me before I forget”. He does show a few actual snippets to cover his tracks, and luckily, all he gets in response is dreamy sighs and, “Oh my god, you’re like sooo romantic!” instead of suspicious looks.
It’s called a “bias” for a reason.
It doesn’t matter if your face doesn’t show in your posts. He has all your notifications on, so every fancall or concert video you share, every photo captioned with “They don’t know I’m zipcode10320” goes straight to his “data” folder where he compares his “field notes”. It doesn’t take too long for him to finally put a face to the name, and the satisfaction of victory weirdly feels like afterglow. He doesn’t smoke, but he craves a cigarette all of a sudden.
His fascination with you mutates into infatuation so fast, he might just blurt out a marriage proposal next time he sees you.
He keeps waiting for you to pick up what he’s putting down, but you seem a bit too insistent with that godforsaken “respect to his personal space” thing. What personal space? There is no personal space when it comes to the two of you; don’t you get it? You need to occupy the exact same space so he can be where he’s meant to be. As your very first. As your very last. So he can be your muse for the rest of your life. Can you even imagine the stories he’ll inspire you to tell if you spend just one night with him?
Don’t get it twisted, that’s just a figure of speech. He can’t and won’t settle for anything less than a couple of hundred nights with you. You know, to teach. So that the freak can match perfectly in the finale.
Unfortunately for him, the news of the iceberg arrives before he can finish packing for the maiden voyage, and for the first time ever, Hyunjin wishes he was blind so he wouldn’t be able to read your words.
zipcode10320
guys im this 🤏 close to ulting the shit out of chris hes been wrecking me left and right this comeback SEND HALP
Oh, you just… Oh, you fucking did not…
Really? That’s the extent of your loyalty? One whore goes Magic Mike, and all of a sudden you’re wrecked? Did the memories you shared mean jack shit to you? Weren’t you the one going on and on about him being your muse just YESTERDAY?!
Oh, you’re gonna get wrecked alright.
“Jiwon, do you have an NDA copy on hand?” Hyunjin addresses the driver in the front seat, his eyes still glued to his phone.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” he opens his contacts and dials a number. “Turn the car around.”
“Where to, sir?”
“I’ll tell you in a bit.”
The car completes the U-turn after the third ringback tone, and a trollmeister voice answers the call on the other end.
“Yo, Hyunzales.”
“Where are you?”
“Fucking your girl in the backseat of my car.”
“I know you’re ragebaiting, but do you want to?”
The elongated silence on the line lets Hyunjin know that the hunter was successfully hunted. He softly chuckles to himself, amused by his triumph.
“Pussy got your tongue, motherfucker?”
“You’d actually give the fic girl to me?” Chris asks for good measure, his rabid giddiness spilling all over his voice.
“Calm the fuck down. No one said anything about giving you stuff,” Hyunjin sternly corrects. “I’m just inviting you to come play.”
“You’re the pettiest, most possessive man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing, and that includes the GOAT Joe Goldberg,” Chris starts a mini interrogation to do his due diligence. “If there is a chance for you to hit that yourself, how come you’re inviting me?”
“You fucking know why. I don’t trust myself,” he admits. “It’s not a random hookup. Bin’s hosting an opening ceremony tonight, and I want her there.”
“No fucking way…”
“Deadest of asses,” Hyunjin finally releases the death grip on his lips and lets them curl. “Meet me at his place if you’re interested. Otherwise, I’ll risk it all and go solo.”
“Race you there, fuckface.”
When the call disconnects, Hyunjin takes a deep breath to calm… his nerves? And well, his residual annoyance—he can’t be in that kinda headspace right now. He closes his eyes, and just the thought of your surprise is enough to put him in a good mood. He pulls up your profile again and presses play on the video from the concert two months ago, fondly smiling as he listens to you scream at the top of your lungs, “I’LL SIGN THE NDA, HYUNJIN, JUST ONE CHANCE!!!”
“Well, you said it yourself, beautiful,” he turns to his right, watching the nightlights pass by the tinted window. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”
You blankly look at the man’s face for a solid ten seconds, unsure if you’ve heard it right, because there ain’t no way…
“Just to triple confirm,” you briefly squeeze your eyes close. “We’re talking about the performer Hwang Hyunjin, right?”
“Yes.”
“The art harlot Hwang Hyunjin.”
“Yes.”
“The Hwang Hyunjin.”
“Just assume every adjective you can think of is true, but if we could get to the matter at hand, please,” the man sighs, rapidly losing patience. “Mr. Hwang strongly wishes for your companionship tonight.”
cOmPaNiOnSh— What?
How would the man, the myth, the legend himself, the only baby daddy you’d be willing to accept, Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin even know you? This has to be a hidden camera prank or something!
As you suspiciously look the man up and down, however, you’re struggling to hold onto your prank theory. The weirdly familiar butler-henchman hybrid guy is clad in a crisp Dior suit, his nails are perfectly manicured, and his hair is so neatly coiffed that bro can walk a runway if he wants. Now you’re trying to logically explain why someone would send a man like this to locate you at this hour. Maybe if they are bored enough? But what entertainment can possibly come out of interrupting a plain mortal’s cocktail hour with their friends?
WHY would a Diorland resident want to locate YOU in the first place? There is literally NO possibility of your paths ever crossing!
“Wait, you’re in every single fansite picture when Hyunjin attends a public event,” Mina points at him, her face contorting with her revelation. “You’re Kim Jiwon, aren’t you?”
“I am,” the man acknowledges.
“How do you even know this guy?” you turn to Mina.
“Girl, even you know him,” she answers with a content smile. “He’s Hyunjin’s bodyguard.”
As you let out a long “Ohhh…”, it finally clicks in your mind why he seems so familiar. He pulls something out from the inside pocket of his blazer and clicks a silver pen.
“I’ve been told this was your own request,” he hands you an envelope containing a single sheet of paper. “You need to sign it before I can take you to him.”
There ain’t NO WAY…
You can see the words, but your brain refuses to process them. That’s it; you’ve been fangirling so hard that it has finally given you permanent brain damage, and now you’re hallucinating worse than ai. At least, that was how you were planning to plead insanity.
But the “OH MY GOD!”s raising from the table confirm that your friends can also see the title reads “Non-Disclosure Agreement”.
“Please don’t. This document contains sensitive information,” he snatches the paper from the prying eyes before they can commit it to memory, and points at the bottom. “If you won’t be signing it, please let me know right now, so I can relay it to Mr. Hwang. This is a time-sensitive issue.”
“T–Time-sensitive?!” you widen your eyes. “Can’t I at least tell my friends where I’m going so they know I’m safe?”
“No, you can’t, but I’m obligated to ensure your protection just as much as Mr. Hwang’s,” he indirectly informs the table. “This isn’t a job offer, so there is nothing to contemplate here. It’s just a promise that you will be discreet about the time you will be spending in Mr. Hwang’s company. Yes or no.”
Yet another “OH MY GOD!” erupts from the table, and by then, Jiwon is at his limit. Before he rescinds the invitation altogether, you lunge at the document telling you to shut the fuck up and sign it. You don’t have one logical answer as to how the Hwang Hyunjin knows you, or why he, quote, “strongly wishes for your companionship”. But the three Cosmopolitans in your bloodstream convince you that making shady deals in the middle of a restaurant is a great idea. And that you will regret it if you don’t go all in tonight.
Whatevs, if anything goes off the rails, you’ll just scream bloody murder, and his career will be over before he can spell “handwritten apology”.
“If I don’t send a thumbs up within 15 minutes, call the police,” you quietly scheme with Mina as you take your sweet time gathering your belongings. “If I do send a thumbs up, call a mortician because his sheer hotness will fucking kill me.”
You follow Jiwon to the valet area, barely registering that he’s just opened the door to a Rolls-Royce Phantom for you. It’s a true test of willpower not to yell “SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP!” as you get into the disgustingly smug flex all over Hyunjin’s socials. So it’s true. It’s actually true. You are being taken to the only man ever. For whatever fucking reason…
WHO CARES?!
You make it to the mystery venue in just under five minutes. As he accompanies you to the elevator, Jiwon hands you what looks like a gold-plated card, instructing you to just swipe it to reach your intended destination. So you do. With a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and still only half-believing that you’re about to appear before His Majesty.
Once you get out of that cabin, you can only see one large door at the end of the hallway. A light breeze of music leaks into the carpet-clad corridor. The distance you need to walk suddenly seems like miles long, and the entire time, you keep repeating to yourself, “What am I doing? What am I doing? What the ACTUAL FUCK am I doing?!”, which is entirely pointless considering you’ve already made it this far. Might as well see what’s behind door number two.
Well, door number 4001, to be exact.
Standing in front of the heavy-looking oak, you take the deepest breath of your life and ring the doorbell, your group chat still open in your hand just in case. After a ten-second silence, it finally opens.
Your knees damn near give way when you make eye contact with your greeter.
“Hey, beautiful,” the only man ever leans against the door frame with that sultry smile you know too well. “Remember me?”
You quickly send a thumbs-up emoji to the group chat and shove the phone inside your bag, having no idea what to do with yourself. It’s him. The man who stuns you when he just breathes, the man who has sheer grace and absolute harlotry running in his veins instead of blood is right there smiling at you. It’s REALLY him!
It is really him, but something is not.
Every memory you have of him suddenly flashes before your eyes. Every “private” moment you were lucky enough to share, the handholding, the small talks about his personal work, the eggplant lasagna jokes… All were so soft, so comfortable, and it was like that by design. Even though he knew your name, you were fully aware that this man was at work. That “See? I remember intimate details about you because you’ve made a mark on me” shtick was the first line of his job description. These guys were probably handed a study pack full of attendee information before those events anyway.
But right this moment, not even a shred of the sentimental soft boi is present in his demeanor. Eyes darkened, pupils dilated, posture relaxed, cunningly smirking. The man standing at door number 4001 isn’t Hwang Hyunjin.
It’s the fucking DEVIL!
“Uh… I feel like I need to make sure, just in case,” you shake your head to snap out of it. “You are aware I’m not an escort, right?”
“Why would you even say that?” he furrows his brows.
“I signed a document that says you want my companionship for an opening ceremony tonight?”
He’s so amused, he starts laughing, and you die a little bit. That part is at least the same. When he laughs, your heart still goes into overdrive.
“Yes, I’m aware,” he answers.
“How do you… even know me?” you hesitantly ask, making sure your tone wouldn’t make him think you’re displeased by the invitation. “I couldn’t come up with one reason why you of all people would look for me.”
But the way his face falls, he must be offended. You panic, trying to find ways to explain yourself and what you really meant by that. That he is a god walking among mortals, that you’re one of the aforementioned mortals, and that it just doesn’t make any sense why he wouldn’t summon a fellow goddess instead.
“See, I’m a glass-half-full kind of man,” he speaks through a sigh as he slowly approaches, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Some might say your zip code starts with 103. I say it ends with 320.”
No.
No, there ain’t NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY…
How is that even POSSIBLE?! How many degrees of separation have you been from Hyunjin all this time? Does one of your followers just HAPPEN to know him somehow? Then what, did they just show him the fucking embarrassing amounts of delusion? Did he at least get a good laugh out of it?
Seems a bit too late to deactivate now…
“Well, you asked for it yourself, didn’t you?” he chortles, lifting your chin. “You signed the NDA. Now’s your one chance.”
How are you still not passing out?
Fuck the how, he knows. He knows about it all, and you have never been this mortified about something in your damn LIFE! Your shame brute-forces its way into the main control room of your brain and disables all your cognitive functions.
You can’t think of ONE thing to say to him!
“Unless… You’d rather it was someone else instead,” he cocks a brow at your silence. “Someone who’s been wrecking you recently?”
“I… I–I’m… I don’t…”
The door he left ajar behind him opens again, and another familiar face peeks out, flashing you a pair of heart-stopping dimples.
“Fucking hot,” Chris bites his lips, resting his chin on Hyunjin’s shoulder while staring at you. “Lucked out with this one, huh, Hyun?”
WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN GOING ON RIGHT NOW?
Where did he come from all of a sudden? What does it all mean? And why is this whole thing starting to feel like a fujoshi trap?!
“It’s just a party,” Hyunjin reassuringly smiles, caressing your cheek as if to calm you down. “We’ll hang out, talk, have a couple of drinks, that kinda thing.”
He holds your hand and presses his lips on your wrist for at least a solid five seconds, deeply inhaling your scent, then looks at you with dreamy eyes.
“But if the fancy strikes,” he steps aside, gently pushing you from your waist to lead you in, “we can always party a little harder.”
Incredulous that you are actually flanked by your very own OTP, you walk into the gigantic suite where the chatter of the crowd melts into the music. You recognize a lot of these faces because it’s crawling with idols inside, but the sight is the furthest thing from variety show cutesiness. Their claim holds up. It is a party.
They just forgot to tell you what kind.
The front end is “frat”. Two fandoms are amidst a vicious fanwar online, yet their “oppas” are heavily broing it out, all clearly intoxicated, laughing their asses off as two of the bunch are trying to do body shots off of each other.
Whereas the back end is “swinger”. Socials are filled with snark about who paved the way, yet the younger artists are busy teaching their seniors how to eat their pussies properly. No one cares that they are in the presence of a crowd—they are going at it.
“How’d you like the cesspit black hole of bubblegum pop?” Chris asks, plopping down next to you on the giant sectional by the window, and hands you a glass of vodka on the rocks. “Not giving ‘ending fairy’ at all, yeah?”
“You don’t say,” you raise your brows. “Feels like I passed through an underworld portal just now.”
“So…” Hyunjin flings an arm around your shoulder, comfortably spreading his legs. “You’re a shipper.”
Your drink almost comes out of your nose with panic-slash-fluster. THAT’S how he chooses to bring it up?!
“It’s just entertainment,” you play it cool, trying to choose your words carefully. “I don’t actually believe you are in a relationship.”
“Even when we live together?”
“That’s not proof of anything.”
“Even when we shower together?” Chris presses. “Stuck in hotel rooms together for months on tour…”
“Everybody knows that’s a convenience thing when you’re strapped for time,” you refute.
“But what if Hyunchan is real, and we’re laughing our asses off hiding in plain sight?” he looks you up and down, annoyingly smirking. “Post a picture of me giving him head right now, and haters will still say it’s fanservice.”
“Didn’t you see the pepero thing?” Hyunjin chimes in. “He’s the only one I almost made out with, and our parents were in the audience, mind you.”
Before you catch on goddamn fire, you have to force quit the fangirling and put your rational thinking into overdrive QUICK! What are they even after, having a weird ship conversation about themselves out of nowhere? It’s almost like they are trying to convince you it’s real, but even if they do, what’s going to possibly come out o—
Oh.
Oh, okay.
Okay, so it’s just a random jackpot thing. They saw your stuff, picked you as a target, and this is how they’re “getting even” by humiliating you to your face. Ha ha, very funny…
“Alright, message received,” you sigh in defeat, your mood suddenly bitter. “Do you want me to apologize in writing, or—?”
“What are you talking about? I’m not mad about that at all,” Hyunjin quickly interjects. “I canceled a porn subscription because of you. I goon to your stuff a lot.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP NO YOU FUCKING DO NOT!!!”
You scream at his face out of pure reflex, but everyone in the vicinity is so faded that no one even hears it. Well, except for Chris who folds in half howling with laughter.
“Ask him,” Hyunjin points at the yang to his yin extremely seriously. “What was I doing just last night?”
“I’m gonna be a gentleman and say he was reading the latest drop, but he changed his sheets at 2 a.m. Do the math,” Chris corroborates while wiping the tears from his eyes. “So yeah, can confirm he’s not mad. Mad horny, maybe”
“But…” Hyunjin snuggles up to you, speaking directly into your ear. “I am mad about something else.”
“W–What did I do?” you turn your head to face him, almost brushing against his lips.
“What is it about me that you don’t like anymore?” he asks with narrowed eyes.
“WHAT?!”
“It’s the haircut, isn’t it?” he tsks in disappointment. “You find it off-putting.”
“Absolutely not! Where did that even come from?!”
“Then how fucking come you’re wrecked so easily after all these years? I thought we had something.”
The course of the night is quite disorienting as it is. Then he goes ahead and says all that in a single breath, fire shooting out of his eyes as if you’ve cussed out the entire Hwang bloodline. He sounds more delulu than all fics in existence combined, yet he’s dead serious, legitimately demanding an answer from you.
You’re so dumbfounded, you can’t produce a single coherent thought!
“Fine,” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and shows you the screen. “Read it. Out loud.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake…
If you can get an ETA on when you can vanish, please, because the self-cringe of looking at your own blog is suf–fo–ca–ting! Nevertheless, it suddenly doesn’t seem entirely implausible to you that these two may indeed be dying laughing at the fanservice defenders. If you posted about this very moment right now, no one would ever believe you, either, would they?
Mad imagination, bro. 12/10 gooned. Have my reblog.
You sigh in exasperation, trying to dissociate from the fact that those are your own words on the screen, and start reading.
“Guys, I’m this cl—”
“No,” Hyunjin stops you with the tone of an insufferable director. “With feeling.”
Are you unknowingly auditioning for something, or…?
You try to remember what you were doing when you rabidly typed this nonsense and yeeted it into the void of the interwebs. Some teaser pictures had dropped, so it wasn’t even anything that deep. Just plain, good ol’ thirst for normal people, but treason-level betrayal by a certain kiwi’s insane biasing standards.
And nothing less than a recommittal blood oath will convince him of your loyalty, apparently.
“Guys, I’m this close to ulting the shit out of Chris. He’s…” you pause to chase some of the cringe with a sip of vodka. “He’s been wrecking me left and right this comeback.”
“I know, right?” Chris cheeses at you, then mimics Hyunjin’s earlier tone. “It’s the bench press thirst traps, isn’t it?”
“All of it,” Hyunjin demands. “Don’t stop at the best part now.”
Real talk? You’d rather endure the ship interrogation than this medieval-adjacent self-reflection moment. Maybe they used to make witches read their own fics aloud, too, who knows?
“Send help,” you punctuate your unhinged diary entry with an eye roll and hand him his phone back.
“Well then.”
He suddenly pulls you close from your waist, shifting you to straddle his lap. The sight must be a little too satisfying, the way his jaw drops watching you sit on your new throne, breathing heavily as he runs his hands up your waist.
“Help,” he brushes two fingers down your cleavage, “has arrived.”
It doesn’t feel real at all. You’re so close to him that if you move forward just an inch, you can kiss him. In your absence, Chris moves right next to Hyunjin and starts lazily stroking your legs, smiling to himself as he watches goosebumps spread on your skin in slow motion.
“Be honest with me,” Hyunjin puts a hand on your cheek, pointing at Chris with a nod. “Do you wish it was him touching you instead?”
“That’s not what I meant when I said—”
“Look, I get why you might have slipped for a moment,” he interrupts, holding Chris’s face between his thumb and index fingers. “Just look at him. He’s so hot, fucking pisses me off sometimes.”
“Pisses you off, my ass,” Chris scoffs with a snort. “Tell that to your dick standing at attention every time I get out of the shower.”
“Not the time to air our dirty laundry,” Hyunjin turns off the black box, then turns to you. “But if you’re really sorry for abandoning me—”
“I didn’t abandon you!” you protest.
“You did, and it broke my heart,” he instantly denies your appeal, his expression somehow crestfallen and quietly enraged at the same time. “Or are you not sorry at all?”
“I am sorry for upsetting you, but not for abandoning you,” you respond. “Because I didn’t.”
“But you are sorry.”
“I am.”
“Then,” he slowly drags a strap of your dress down your shoulder, “show me how much.”
“T–There are people here,” you quickly grab his hand.
“Of course there are,” he purses his lips. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a ceremony.”
“Just what the hell is this ceremony for?” you crease your brows. “I haven’t seen one ribbon getting cut.”
“Just because they aren’t in your face doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” he responds with a grin. “You asked me to save you from your misery, remember?”
what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol
Your face changes when it finally starts to sink in.
You look around, and that’s when you see the room for the first time. There are clusters of people spread all over the place, each with a “focal point” amidst them. Depending on the kind of lens you have, you can claim they are being worshipped, pleasured, or entirely humiliated.
Only then does it dawn on you that the “opening ceremony”, at least the one held on this side of the room, is of you.
“Don’t avert your eyes,” Hyunjin holds your face with the kind of tenderness that does not belong to the salacious backdrop. “Look at me.”
And look, you do.
You see two men before you, their gaze somewhat soft but not because it bears any wholesome intent. It’s a tiger and a wolf sitting side by side, and the only reason they don’t snarl is not to spook the gazelle. Otherwise, you can see the drool pooling in their mouth. The intent doesn’t seem entirely nefarious, either, but you have lowered inhibitions and complete heart eyes for them, so… Not exactly the beacon of sound judgement.
When Hyunjin starts pulling you in, the remaining crumbs of sound judgement evacuate the building anyway.
“Kiss the lips you keep writing about,” he quietly demands.
Your life temporarily ends when he takes your lips within his. It’s not like your makeout scoreboard is completely blank, but you’ve never felt anything like this before. The man doesn’t kiss; he attempts to pour himself into your body, then permeate every single corner until he completely possesses you.
Divide and Hwangquer.
“Feeling a little neglected here,” Chris interrupts. “No kisses for me?”
That pout paired with the puppy eyes gives you a little cuteness aggression. You steal a glance from Hyunjin, trying to gauge how upset he’d be if you kissed Chris, but he beats you to it. He just knows you’ll prefer the “fanservice” over a stupid membership card anyway. Now he can thank you for all the sheets he ruined in a single installment.
He grabs Chris by the nape and fucking goes for it, showing you what you would have seen if he had finished that pepero to completion. It makes you wanna combust that their rhythm seems so memorized. It’s pure muscle memory. If these demons had a side hustle where they made out to entertain an audience, the entire community would find out the day they created an account. Not even the most devout “It’s fanservice!” supremacist can explain how two people can know each other’s hot spots this well if they haven’t found them firsthand.
FUCK, IT’S TRUE THEN?!
As Hyunjin languidly grinds against you, he unbuttons Chris’s pants and frees his cock, making him whimper when he wraps his long fingers around him. You can’t control the throb between your legs when you hear that sound, and of course Hyunjin notices, breaking into a diabolical smile.
He channels his attention to you again, this time meeting no resistance when he reaches for the strap of your dress. He takes the left side while Chris takes the right, both men savoring the fuck out of unwrapping the present they treated themselves to. The tiger and the wolf can no longer hide their intent, openly showing their teeth as they stare at your bare chest. As if they communicate with telepathy, each sucks on a nipple at the same time, the same way they make out with each other. Loud. Messy.
Wet.
When you run your fingers through his hair, Chris looks up and makes eye contact with you. He lets go of your nipple and reaches for your face, demanding his kiss. They both melt within your lips, but it’s like night and day. Hyunjin kisses like a Sunday morning—slow and lazy, deep sighs, soft touches because you have all the time in the world. Whereas Chris is like a quickie you know you shouldn’t have—fast and passionate, heavy breathing, firm gropes because you are strapped for time before you get busted.
But both set your body on fire just the same.
Hyunjin stops when he realizes there’s a makeout session going on over his head and starts kissing your neck, fondling everything he can reach. Shortly after, you feel a hand on your inner thighs caressing you. Then it moves up. More. A bit more. It makes you shudder when it reaches the dampened fabric gatekeeping your wetness.
“So, you’re saying,” Hyunjin unzips his pants and lets his cock hang, “if I dip my tongue in there, I’ll be the first ever to taste you?”
“Y–Yes,” you barely manage to answer, wits barely intact.
“You wouldn’t… lie to me, would you?” he squints with suspicion.
Then something you can’t quite explain happens.
Hyunjin looks the same, but his demeanor feels… sinister, almost. It’s like there is a very specific answer to his question, and if you can’t get it exactly right, there will be consequences. The problem is, you can’t tell if he’s roleplaying or if his personality is actually changing right before your eyes.
If the tiger snarls that loudly, obviously it will spook the gazelle.
“Of course not,” Chris intervenes with the wholesomest smile, his voice softer than cumulus clouds. “She would never do that to you.”
“She said she loved me, but it didn’t stop her from having eyes for you,” Hyunjin stares daggers at him. “How do I know she’s telling the truth this time?”
“Hyun, you’re scaring her.”
Hyunjin swiftly turns to you, and when you make eye contact, his rigid scowl suddenly disappears. He averts his eyes like he’s ashamed, but the pout doesn’t go anywhere.
It’s like you’re trying to communicate with a stubborn kid.
“If I hurt you so much,” you softly utter, tilting your head to look into his eyes, “would you like me to leave?”
He immediately grabs your hand like you’re going to vanish otherwise, his eyes widened like saucers. Chris giggles at his reaction and wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist behind him.
“You just loooove being a mega spoiled brat, don’t you?” he nibbles on Hyunjin’s earlobe, then flashes his mega reassuring dimples at you. “Asking for a kiss like a normal person is too pedestrian for our prince, so he has to make a scene.”
You thought he was fucking around when he said he was heartbroken earlier, but he looks it. You are so confused, and nothing makes sense to you, but a part of you feels weirdly privileged to witness whatever is going on.
“Come closer,” Chris invites you, placing open-mouth kisses on Hyunjin’s neck. “Let’s pacify him a bit.”
You hold Hyunjin’s hands and put them on your waist, then pull him into a kiss. As soon as your lips touch, he immediately starts melting, and you can feel his body go limp in your arms. He softly moans into you, one hand on your face, the other holding Chris’s hand behind him.
“Do you really love me?” he asks with a pout.
“I came here tonight because Mr. Hwang asked for me,” you affirm. “There was no mention of Chris.”
“Will you stop loving him then?”
“Will you?” you raise your brows, unwittingly laughing. “Don’t ask me for things you don’t have the balls to do.”
“Will you at least stop biasing him then?”
“What’s happening to you?” you smile through your creased brows, strangely endeared.
“Nothing, baby. It’s his dinner time, and he gets very groggy when he doesn’t eat,” Chris answers on his behalf, looking at you knowingly. “So you might wanna feed him now.”
Hyunjin doesn’t lose another second and gently pushes you to lie on your back, comfortably settling between your legs. He has zero patience left to take the teasing route, but still tries his best to hold it together and not rip your underwear off altogether.
“Oh, you so wanna shove it in there already, don’t you?” Chris chuckles, seeing Hyunjin practically drool at the amount of slick.
“Fucking look at this, my god,” Hyunjin bites his lips hard.
“Rock paper scissors?” Chris extends his hand.
“Oh, fuck you, I have bias privileges,” Hyunjin slaps it away. “Dibs on everything.”
“Yes, you do, but you will do my requests, right?
You kinda wanna slap Chris when Hyunjin stops two millimeters away from your pussy and looks up at him. It’s so strange that he seems to only listen to Chris and do everything he says with blind obedience, as if he doesn’t have a mind of his own.
Huh…
“What do you want?”
“How about you get her suuuper wet first,” Chris speaks, dragging Hyunjin’s lip down with his thumb, “then double cream her?”
They smirk at each other, and you almost die because WHAT EVEN IS THIS INSANE DYNAMIC?! They’ve done this before for sure; the correct question is JUST HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES?
“I’m just gonna borrow her a bit so I can cum faster, okay?” Chris gives a quick peck on Hyunjin’s lips. “She still only loves you.”
“I know,” Hyunjin tries to play it cool, but massively fails when he can’t help his smile.
“And I only love you, too.”
FUCK—THIS!!!
You suddenly forget where you are and what you’re about to do, barely stopping yourself from shedding happy tears, because what other proof do you need here, really?
fAnSeRvIcE, my ass!
“I guess it’s only fair that I warn you about this,” Hyunjin licks his lips with sheer hunger, spreading your legs wide.
“A–About what?”
“That no one’s gonna compare to me after tonight. You’ll live the rest of your life looking for me in everyone you fuck,” he smirks big. “So maybe don’t even bother fucking them in the first place.”
You inadvertently arch into him with a gasp when he finally graces you with that first lick, grabbing onto Chris lying by your side. It’s such an unfamiliar, brand-new feeling, and it spreads all over your body faster than a pandemic. So wet. So warm. Dangerously addictive. Unfathomable that someone could have this kind of appetite for you one day, but there you have it in technicolor. And out of all people it could possibly be, it’s Hwang Hyunjin.
The only man ever.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” you let slip unbeknownst to yourself.
“Mpf…”
You sink your fingers deeper into Chris when Hyunjin moans into your pussy. The vibrations feel so nice. It’s like an ‘achievement unlocked’ moment—when you talk to him, he reacts.
And he reacts good.
“Feels good, yeah? Now we’re gonna do the same with you,” Chris gets on his knees and presses his cock on your lips. “Open your mouth for me.”
You don’t exactly understand why, but you’re starting to relate to Hyunjin. For whatever reason, when Chris says something, you just do, no questions asked.
You take him into your mouth, but he doesn’t move for a while, just enjoying the sensation as he watches Hyunjin work wonders on your pussy. The man is gone, eating like he’s been starved to death, and when he realizes Chris is watching, he stops sucking, spreads your lips, and makes a complete show of flicking his tongue on your clit as fast as he can.
You’ve heard of chain reaction crashes before, but only now do you understand how they work. Hyunjin licks your soul out of you, you moan louder, and it somehow manifests itself within Chris’s body even though he’s fucking your face. It’s as if you’re just a vessel connecting the two lovers, and Hyunjin pleasures Chris through you.
If you can choose your own death, this is your preferred way to go.
“Oh, FUCK, sorry baby, borrowing your man for a bit,” Chris hurriedly pulls out and rushes to Hyunjin. “I’m about to explode. Fucking finish me!”
Hyunjin gets on his knees, fervently stroking Chris until he unloads a hefty load all over his cock. It’s unclear whether it’s Chris or you who’s about to pass out when he cums because you’ve never seen something this hot in your entire life.
“Do it now,” Chris flashes a fucked out smile. “Before it dries.”
Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and aligns himself with your entrance. As his precum mingles with Chris’s drops at the tip, you see the tiger has fully murderous intent now, groaning loudly even though he very very shallowly thrusts into you, only a knuckle deep. Literally just the tip, barely holding himself back from ramming himself into you with how deliciously slippery you are.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you when you flinch a bit. “I’ll be very gentle.”
“Why? I didn’t ask you to.”
The two men look at each other and flash the most evil smiles you’ve seen anyone flash.
“Jackpot,” Chris sinks his teeth into his lips.
“Lick her clit so she gets tighter around me,” Hyunjin demands, then looks deep into your eyes. “We’ll see how you like me now.”
“Ah, FUCK!”
You said it yourself. You said so many things yourself. How you were this obsessed with him. How you wanted him to break you in. How you wanted just one chance in exchange for an NDA. And now not to be gentle with you. You’re right, why should he? It’s not like you’re made of glass. You’re a big girl, you can take it.
He’s just complying with your wishes here.
“Your eyes are rolling back,” Hyunjin clenches his teeth, maniacally laughing. “Go ahead. Go ahead and fall back in love with me.”
All you can make is incoherent noises while he sinks into your deepest spots, Chris’s tongue gliding all over your clit. This is it. This is how you go certifiably insane, if not die altogether. Not even the worst fantasies your mind has ever conjured can compare to this, and in your heart of hearts, you know Hyunjin is right. No one’s gonna compare to him, to them, after this, and you have no idea how you’re supposed to go on with your life.
If only there was a way that… If only…
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m about t— HYUNJIN!!!”
As you let out a sound you didn’t even know you were capable of making, both men pin you in your place, forcing you to just let the pleasure in. In all your years of self-pleasuring, you have never reached a high this surreal, tearing your soul from your body, and you just know that after tonight, you never will. Squeezing him to death within your walls, you shove Hyunjin into his atom-rearranging orgasm, and his load is so heavy that you can feel every single drop he shoots inside you.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin is so happy he got to be your first that he could die.
“Are you in love with me again?” he nuzzles against your neck once he comes back enough to be able to speak words.
“If I say yes, will you stop obsessing over this?”
“I’m not promising anything.”
You flash him the most fucked out smile. He smiles back. Your heart swells in your chest to the point of combustion when you see his dimples.
“Then no, I’m not,” you stroke his kiwi hair. “Try again.”
He’s not in the least bit offended. If anything, this is the closest he’s been to fansign Hyunjin the entire night, his chuckle making your heart go into overdrive.
“Now that the official ceremony is over,” Chris gets up and starts putting his clothes on, “let’s bounce.”
“Are you really gonna make us move right now?” Hyunjin whines.
“Of fucking course, I am!” Chris scowls, incredulous that Hyunjin would even dare say something like this. “I still need to fuck her, and all our toys are back home.”
❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to make Hyunchan bias you.
genre: crackfic, dark comedy, dark romance, thriller
summary: hyunjin invites you over to hang out with him and his friends. they try to kill you. you survive! aaaand now they’re obsessed with you.
warnings: non idol au, attempted murder of protagonist(reader), violence, blood, stalking, obsessive behavior, mentions of death/murder/dismemberment/(implied)rape(it’s just in a conversation, it didn’t happen to anyone in the fic!!), cursing, homicidal behavior/psychopathy, dumb han and felix, people die, the love interests(skz) are the problem, nobody here is okay, english is obvi not my first language
word count: 13k
you almost got murdered.
by eight gorgeous men.
yea, y/n. you got yourself into that situation. but how?
you were walking home once, minding your own business, chewing on some thought. could have been anything. from dinner to what you need to do tomorrow, let’s not act like it matters. none of these little details matter, what does, is that a man was walking towards you. (an: guys i’ll clarify it now that it’s hyunjin. i just hate when fanfics try to describe looks when we don’t know names yet)
the man passed you. smelled great. nothing more.
“is this yours?”
that was him. his voice. he talked to you.
you stopped then and turned around. he was also standing still, looking at you. holding a single airpod.
no. it was not yours. at all. not your airpod.
“shit. yes, it is.” you smiled. a hundred percent aware that the single airpod was not yours.
hyunjin smiled, relieved in a way that suggested he had not planned beyond step one: talk to pretty girl. he asked your name. you asked his. he pretended he wasn’t internally rehearsing how to introduce you to the worst decision of your life.
and that’s exactly how you got yourself into the situation before your getting murdered one, where you kept seeing hyunjin, never really revealing that the airpod was not yours. you didn’t want to, he was just so cute.
and also a serial killer, not like you knew that though.
hyunjin was always the best with the women. or with the people in general. the other seven guys were… doing alright with them, sure, some better and some worse, but hyunjin always got what he wanted. he was the one collecting the people, another person to kill.
which did not happen to you, duh it’s in the first line, but how? how, when the eight of them, eight little nobodies who only got through life because of each other, are so good at killing? how, when it’s the main thing that bonds them together and gives them their sick little dosage of joy? how, when that’s the thing they can do best? how, when they’re fit? lucky? hot?
yea i’ll just stop with all the questions. i’m boutta explain, obvi.
so. you two started meeting up. you not telling him that the airpod wasn’t yours, him not telling you he was planning on sliming you out.
once, he invited you out. you two have been out hundreds and thousands of times(like five times), so it didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary to you. not a date, he said hang out. his place. “a few friends might be there” he added. you went. fucking idiot.
the place was so fucking cool. big. looked good. kinda place where you immediately lost cell service and your sense of direction.
“that’s just the guys.” hyunjin had also said when you two got there, gesturing inside.
you met them all in under three minutes, which was about two minutes too many. chan was a gentleman. he smiled. he shook your hand. he had huge arms and was gorgeous.
minho and seungmin both looked like they hated you. looked you up and down. acted like bitches. acted like they didn’t understand what you wanted when you said hi and introduced yourself. acted like you were beneath them. hm.
changbin saved the moment by immediately knocking over a chair and laughing at himself. he was sweet. he asked you if you wanted a drink. that was nice, because he meant that. he wanted to get you something to drink, even if he wanted to kill you after. wanting to absolutely murder you wasn’t personal, so he wasn’t going to make it personal.
felix and unfortunately han, two sunshine or whatever you heard the guys say about them(why were there two?) were sweet, but dumb. han tried to shake your hand and missed. felix complimented your shoes and then apologized to the floor.
jeongin bowed. he asked if you were real. he told chan you were out of his league. chan was about to smash his head into a wall. he seemed intelligent though, a little playful, a little flirty. sweet guy. (also a fucking psychopath y/n run run RUN)
through all of it, hyunjin, the liar, the asshole, stayed near you. calm. watching. soooo fucking hot, man. everyone else was loud or mean or deeply stupid, but hyunjin looked at you like he didn’t quite know what to do with you.
which was funny, because the rest of them clearly knew exactly what they wanted to do with you.
they were bad at hiding it. terrible, actually. chan kept whispering. minho and seungmin stared too long. felix dropped something sharp and went “oops”. jeongin asked, loudly, if you were good at running, then immediately said he meant marathons.
you thought they were weird. intense. hot, unfortunately. you had no idea you were being sized up.
so. like two hours into the hang out. you didn’t have your phone with you, it was in the living room somewhere. you were in the kitchen with hyunjin, leaning against a counter, listening to him explain, calmly, something about the cabinets.
“uhuh.” you said, opening three drawers and finding nothing but knives. so many knives. “oouukay.”
from the living room, something heavy scraped across the floor.
“alright.” chan’s voice came. “enough foreplay.”
you frowned, no idea what he was referring to. yet. “that’s a weird thing to say out loud.”
hyunjin hummed. then seungmin appeared in the doorway, posture lazy, swaying a lil, with a fire poker in his hand. i repeat, fire poker.
you had just enough time to think oh that’s new, before he swung. clean. aimed at your head.
you ducked on instinct. the poker smashed into the cabinet behind you, splintering wood, sending a drawer of knives exploding onto the floor.
everyone froze for half a second.
“jesus.” changbin said from somewhere nearby. “we just fixed that.”
you stared at seungmin. he stared back. you two stared at each other for a while.
“…huh.” you said. “okay.”
then you ran.
the boys just… got into it immediately. switched. getting up. listening to your footsteps. laughing. jeongin whooped. they all obviously had done this before. they were so boyish, all of them. and so fucking evil.
you ran down a hallway, heart slamming in your ribs. a door on your left? locked. on your right, open.
you ran into a study and immediately regretted it. felix was there, sitting on a desk, holding a crossbow. WHERE. DID. HE. GET. THAT. FROM.
“oh!” he said, genuinely delighted. “hey.”
“move.” you said.
he winced sympathetically. “can’t.”
the shit that he shot out of the bow that i don’t know the name of thunked into the wall beside your head. close enough that you felt the vibration in the air, from the ground.
“fuck you.” you said, accepting it surprisingly quick that you were getting hunted down.
you burst back into the hall and nearly collided with changbin. he caught you by the shoulders automatically(so like without thinking about it), steadying you.
“okay.” he said, quick and quiet. “left stair’s blocked. right one buys you maybe twenty seconds.”
“why are you telling me?” you panted.
he shrugged. “i like you.”
then he leaned down, pressed a quick kiss into your hair, oh, and shoved you forward by the middle of your back.
“go. before i change my mind.”
you went.
behind you, he called out cheerfully: “she went right!”
“YOU FUCKING LIAR.” minho yelled.
you ran up the stairs two at a time. at the top when you turned, han was waiting, holding a bat.
“oh shit.” he said. “hi.”
you grabbed the bat midswing, yanked it free, and cracked him across the shin. you fucking rock y/n.
he screamed, fell over, yelled “timeout! timeout!”
you ditched the bat(DUMB bitch) and ran into what looked like a… whatever room. it was big, pretty big, too open, too much of a bad choice.
chan stepped into your path. was this bitch there the whole time? no, he couldn’t be. could he?
you spun, only to find minho closing in. you kicked him in the knee, hard. he lunged. you ducked, grabbed a chair again and swung blindly. the thing is, you were extremely weak tho. the chair could have been a fucking pillow at this point, because he just stepped away from it. and you… kinda went with the chair. but you stood up! luckily.
they loved this, they loved the way you fought, the way you adapted. it was cute, girly how you didn’t scream, just swore and moved and made it harder than it was supposed to be because they know their shit in this field. it made them better, sharper, more playful.
you ran out the door you came in thru and shut it behind you, jamming a heavy table against it. the boys could have prevented that, they just didn’t. you were way too fun, and they knew that you were getting tired. they knew they were going to win this. again.
you waited a bit.
the door shuddered. once. twice.
then stopped.
silence.
your stomach dropped. that was never good.
“okay.” hyunjin’s calm voice came, suddenly close, from behind you.
you spun.
for a bit, you just stared at each other.
“yeah. so. the airpod?” you said breathlessly.
he winced. “yeah.”
“figures. sorry for lying about it.”
“it’s fine. i lied too.” he stepped aside, gesturing toward a side door. gentlemanly. “run. i’ll count to five.”
“why?”
he smiled, beautiful. “because it’s more fun when you almost make it.”
you didn’t wait for five. you ran again, heart in your throat.
“YOU’RE DOING GREAT!” felix shouted when he saw you run past him. “I MEAN—STOP!”
yeah. pfftt.
the house stopped making sense after a while. corridors doubled back on themselves, which was fucking brutal. there were rooms you swore you’d already crossed. you ducked into a side room and slammed the door, immediately realizing, too late, that it didn’t lock.
“fuck.” you whispered, hands on your knees, trying to quiet your breathing. and you listened. footsteps walked past. someone laughed, a really… loud laugh. jeongin’s voice echoed from somewhere far off. you could hear how unserious his voice was, talking bout sum “she’s still upright, folks, which is honestly impressive” genuinely just making fun of the situation.
“keys.” you muttered. “i need keys.” because you clearly remembered hyunjin closing the front door after you.
from behind the curtain came a soft, confused, very close: “…huh.”
you froze.
the curtain moved. it was han, holding a knife and a flashlight upside down, blinking at you.
“oh. hi.”
third hi he said tonight. hi to you too, han.
you stared at each other.
“uh.” he said.
“yeah.” you replied.
a beat passed.
another.
he frowned at the flashlight, turned it the right way up, blinded himself, and yelped.
“sorry.” he said, rubbing his eyes. “didn’t mean to corner you.” serial killer btw.
“you did. that’s literally what you did.”
“right.” he nodded. “yeah. so. i’m supposed to, uh—” he made a weak stabbing motion with his hand that held the knife. missed entirely. “—do the thing.”
you glanced at the knife in his hand. them at him. then back at the knife. “you don’t look super confident about that.”
he shrugged. “i get nervous.” he hesitated. then leaned in and whispered: “hyunjin gave his keys to chan, i saw it.”
“…thaaanks.”
he smiled, shy. “okay.” he said, stepping aside. “i’m gonna count to… uh… what’s fair?”
“ten.”
he nodded seriously. “ten.”
you bolted.
“ONE—THREE—WAIT—”
you ran out. didn’t get far though, you heard too many noises, so you did what made sense at the moment. hide again. and you did hide again, at least tried, you were soon interrupted by seeing felix, who was crouched behind a couch, chewing on a cereal bar.
he looked up mid bite. “oh. hello again.”
“move. again.” you said.
he scooted instantly. “yep.”
you walked past. paused. looked back. “why are you hiding?”
he swallowed. “i forgot what the plan was.”
“oh. i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright.”
from the hallway, heavy footsteps. chan, probably. he walks confident. you can just… hear his walk. he walks like it’s heavy, grr. felix heard it too, grimaced.
“he’s gonna be mad. he hates when i lose track.” felix whispered.
you looked at felix. then at the hallway. then back at felix. “you’re fine. it’s not your fault. i think so, at least.” you looked around. “he just feels like the fucking star of the show, having the keys and all that”
felix’s eyes lit up. “oh! yeah, he’s got those.”
boom. that was your plan. sneak the keys into the conversation. get to know about it. you’ll be out of there in no time, y/n.
you looked back at him. “can you distract him?”
felix thought for a second, then shook his pretty head enthusiastically. “absolutely not.”
“…fair.”
he stood anyway, shook himself together kinda, and ran into the hallway yelling “HEY BRO I THINK SHE WENT—”
you didn’t hear the rest, you ran. climbed stairs, ducked under a railing(just being extra for no reason pfffft), slipped through a door that led into a laundry room, and locked it. the blessed, beautiful click of a lock nearly made you cry. then you crouched between machines, shaking, trying not to laugh or scream or do both.
minutes passed. nothing. then, a knock. polite. gentle.
you stared at the door.
hyunjin’s voice, calm and exactly what made you like him. “i’m not coming in.”
“yeah? promise?”
“cross my heart.”
“don’t have one.” jeongin added from somewhere farther back.
hyunjin sighed.
the fact that jeongin heard you talk and didn’t go to the laundry room says a lot about them though. tells you that they’re doing this for fun, that they’re not in a hurry at all.
you edged closer to the door, careful. “i need the keys.”
“i know.”
“give them to me.”
a pause. you imagined him leaning against the wall, hands in pockets, watching the floor. “you almost deserve them.” he said. “that’s the problem.” from down the hall came a crash, followed by changbin yelling. hyunjin continued anyway, softer now. “if you get them, though… you’re really leaving.”
“yes.”
“shame.”
fucking manipulator. that’s what he is. “you’re really leaving” oh boo fucking hoo. sappy asshole. not one sincere bone in his beautiful body. he said this cringe shit on purpose.
the doorknob jiggled once.
“five minutes.” he said. “that’s what I can give you.”
then footsteps retreated. you sagged against the dryer, adrenaline basically ripping your muscles, like ripping. we all know the feeling. anyways, five minutes. okay. you had to get out for sure, otherwise you would be so dead. so, next, run. you were going to run. open the door and… go… some… way. anyways, that’s what you did after about one minute of sitting on the floor and thinking about how will you do that. you got out, and didn’t stop running so much as you failed forward into the next hallway.
somewhere behind you, han shouted your name wrong, twice, then tripped over absolutely nothing and went down with a sound that sounded like multiple things falling with him.
“FUCK. i’m okay! I’M OKAY.”
you risked a glance back just in time to see him scramble up, only to immediately collide with minho, who had come around the corner too fast. they hit the wall together, tangled, swearing.
you burst through a door and nearly slammed straight into seungmin. both of you froze. like actually froze. inches apart. his breath was loud. yours was worse. he stared at you. you stared at him. his grip tightened on whatever sharp thing he had in his hand.
“…hi.” you said.
“sup.” he said. “you’re shorter up close.”
“fuck you.”
“later.” easily.
you looked at him, furrowing your pretty brows.
he glanced down at the knife in his hand, then back up at you. “this is awkward.”
“yeah.”
he tilted his head. “you okay?”
“no.”
“hm.”
there was a beat where neither of you moved. somewhere far away, something crashed, probably han.
seungmin tilted his head. “you gonna run, or are we doing this weird staring thing?”
you lunged left.
he lunged right.
you both smacked into the same doorframe and recoiled in pain.
“fuck.” you mumbled, rubbing your pretty head.
“shit, okay, that one’s on me.” he admitted, rubbing his shoulder. his pretty shoulder. that sweater looked good on him, by the way. yeah. hm. really good. but that didn’t fucking matter when he lunged again.
you screamed, slipped on a rug, and fell, only for minho to come in from the side and tackle seungmin directly into a glass table. the table shattered.
you stared.
they stared back.
“…go.” seungmin shook his head, waving you off.
you did not need to be told twice. behind you, minho yelled smth like “WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER GO?”
a crash. a thud.
then seungmin, very calmly: “because you’re pissing me off.”
you ran straight into han and felix arguing at the end of the hall.
“i said left.” han insisted, holding a crowbar upside down.
“you always say left.” felix argued, holding a taser and clearly forgetting how it worked.
you skidded to a stop.
all three of you froze.
you were panting. “can you both—”
felix lunged. han lunged. they lunged into each other. they crashed, arms everywhere, legs everywhere, clothes everywhere, the smell of men everywhere, tangled up, the taser going off uselessly into the air.
“STOP STABBING MY JACKET.” felix yelled.
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE HER.” han yelled back.
you stepped over them. “thank you.” you said sincerely, and ran.
you rounded a corner and slammed straight into chan, full chest to chest. you both stumbled back a step. he held you automatically, hands on your arms. you stared up at him. he stared down at you.
he almost smiled.
then han came sprinting in, tripped over nothing again, and took chan out at the knees.
“OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY.” han yelled, tangled in chan’s limbs. “I DIDN’T SEE YOU.”
seungmin and minho found you again. jeongin leaned on a wall, wiping dust off his knees. han just got up and felix came in late, and they tripped over each other again. chan just sighed at this point.
you backed toward the door, hands up.
then while getting up, felix slipped. took han down with him. again. they crashed into minho, who slammed into seungmin.
jeongin smiled. “DOMINOES!”
that was your chance to do something. something to even just slow these guys down, anything, bro. so, you did. when chan stood up finally, you lunged for him.
but like… that asshole just laughed in your face and twisted away easily, shoving you past him. “go.” he said. “you’re warmer when you keep moving.”
weirdo. but you ran again anyway, down a side corridor, thru a door and immediately ate shit. your foot caught on something, and you slid, palms burning, your pretty little skin they want to cut so bad just gone like that.
behind you, there was a collective “OOHHHH.”
you rolled your eyes. sighed. thought about just lying there because they would probably still miss even if you were completely still. you decided maybe not. so you scrambled up and ran again, swearing, adrenaline making everything feel fucking crazy. unreal. is this really happening?
you didn’t know how long you ran, time stopped somewhere around the third near death experience.
you went downstairs and upstairs and downstairs again, back and forth, hoping to find something that could save your life. when you were back at the stairs for the seventh time that night, you took the stairs three at a time, only to find han at the top, again, wheezing, holding a knife backwards.
“WAIT.” he said. “hold on—euh—my lung—”
you ran past him.
he tripped over his own foot and tumbled down the stairs alone, screaming “I’M FINE—I’M NOT FINE—TELL MY MOM—”
you didn’t look back. you burst into a bedroom and slammed the door, locking it just as something heavy hit the other side.
silence.
your chest heaved. sweat slicked your now skinless palms. you pressed your back to the door and slid down until you were sitting on the floor, brain finally catching up enough to think.
okay. door. big house. front door has keys. keys are on someone. they told you it’s at chan but he could have gave it to anyone since that.
that was bad.
you stood, looking through the room. window. too high. bathroom. connected. closet. tiny but usable. fuck yes. you hid in the closet just as the door opened.
footsteps. slow, manly. so confident in himself.
“you know, i really thought we had something.” jeongin. sweet. acting, obviously.
you clapped a hand over your mouth.
he paced the room, dragging something metal lightly along furniture. an axe, maybe.
“like, don’t get me wrong. i love the chase. big fan. but the eye contact earlier? intimate.”
you heard him stop in front of the closet.
“…you in there?”
you didn’t move.
he sighed. then, dropped to his knees. you could see him through the slats now, sprawled on the floor.
“y/n.”
you could hear your breathing. you could also hear his. which meant…
“come out.”
…he could hear yours too.
okay. fuck. your only option was to make a run for it. so, after taking a biiiiig big breath, you burst out of the closet and kicked him in the shoulder. was it successful? was it a good kick? who knows. it knocked him down, that’s what matters, but it was a pretty lame kick after all. he only went down because he wanted to, not because you actually kicked him good.
anyways, you ran again. out the room. then immediately skidded to a stop when seungmin opened a door in front of you.
he stepped aside immediately. “after you.” he said, gesturing inside.
you stared at him.
he stared back.
you could hear hyunjin make a noise, talking with changbin.
seungmin raised his brows. “i insist.”
he knew that you needed an escape route and this was your only option. you knew he knew.
you sighed. ran through it, and it slammed shut behind you. you could hear a snicker(his voice), then silence. maybe he left. maybe not.
the room you were in was darker. storage. boxes. is this place even owned by these guys? or do they just come here to… play?
you hid behind a shelf, crouching, heart in your ears.
okay. think.
front door. locked. too obvious. you needed keys. you needed a person.
but they were playing. this wasn’t about killing you quickly, it was about the fun. about testing themselves. about proving, again, that they were smarter, faster, better. the teamwork thrilled them, having prey thrilled them.
footsteps approached.
door opened. han stepped into the room, tripped, and fell into a stack of boxes. why always this guy?
“oh COME ON.” he groaned. “i wasn’t even chasing her!”
neither of you moved.
“…you okay?” you asked.
“yeah.” he said, looking up, nose bleeding. “yeah. you?”
“living the dream.”
he nodded. then, very gently, he pointed back towards the door. “they’re coming.” he whispered.
in the doorway, felix appeared, pointing at han. “dude. again?”
you took the chance and got out of your hiding place, quick, and bolted past them both.
felix gasped. “oh shit—sorry—sorry—”
han tried to follow, slipped again, and yelled: “WAIT FOR ME!”
a crash. a curse. someone else falling over him.
you ran down the hall toward what you hoped was the front of the house. behind you, shouting, laughter, whooping, bodies colliding, someone yelling “WHO LEFT THIS CHAIR HERE?” you rounded a corner and skidded to a stop in front of the front door. you tried the door. locked. you didn’t know where the keys are. your chest tightened. behind you, footsteps slowed. confident. chan, seungmin, minho, jeongin, closing in.
you turned around. the wall met your back hard enough to knock the air out of you.
“okay.” you said, breathless, girly, the prey they wanted you to be. “okay. this is—yeah. alright.”
the other four found you too. felix, panting. han, limping. hyunjin and changbin obviously not affected because they didn’t really take part of the chase. blocking off every possible exit.
chan didn’t take his eyes off you. “everyone good?” he asked, calm. so fucking calm. knowing he won.
“peachy.” jeongin said.
“bit winded.” felix added. “but spiritually fulfilled.”
changbin gave you an apologetic little wave. “sorry.”
then seungmin lunged.
you fought, harder than they expected, apparently, elbowing, kicking, swearing. but they were sure now, hands grabbing wrists, legs hooking yours, pressure applied. you went down. not slammed, though. controlled. that fucking pissed you off more.
seungmin had your arms pinned. minho had a knee on your thigh. chan crouched in front of you, looking down at your pretty face.
the second you were fully restrained, jeongin shrieked. “oh my GOD we got her!”
he leapt into felix’s arms. felix caught him, squealing back.
“we did it!” felix yelled.
they spun once. almost fell. han clapped wildly and then tripped into changbin, taking them both down.
you laid there, chest heaving, heart pounding, really feeling your body, not knowing what the fuck was happening. because they didn’t seem dangerous, but you knew they were.
chan tilted his head. “you ran well.”
“thanks.” you said.
jeongin crouched down to your face. “so. how you feeling?”
“fuck off.”
hyunjin tilted his pretty head, hands in his pockets. “you did really well.”
you forced yourself to breathe slower. think. keys. chan’s jacket pocket. right side. you’d seen the outline earlier when he caught one of the boys midfall.
jeongin tilted his head at you. “are you afraid? like, i’m actually asking, because i need to know what to do differently next time. are you afraid of death? did we make you feel like you’re going to die? how would you rate it out of ten?”
you sighed, looking down at the floor. “getting killed is, like, the last thing on my list right now.”
they paused.
seungmin grimaced. “yeah, no.”
“oh, no.” felix said, shaking his head
“dude.” minho murmured.
“we would never.” changbin whispered.
“ew.” han blurted, horrified.
you narrowed your eyes. “ew?”
“no—no—not ew you. i mean—fuck—you’re hot—shit—sorry—what i meant was—”
jeongin smacked the back of his head. “stop talking.”
seungmin pulled his mouth up. “we’re not… that evil.”
minho crossed his arms. “jesus.”
chan straightened slightly. “that’s not our thing.”
you watched the discomfort, the immediate correction, the way the tone shifted. interesting.
“relax.” you said, rolling your neck as much as the hold allowed. “i know.”
“thank you.” han said, sweating. “sorry. respectfully.”
“you’re fine.” you murmured.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
but something had changed, you saw it. that weird line you’d dropped, (half joke, half truth because it’s horrible that we have to live in a world like this), went somewhere they didn’t like. their version of evil had rules. sooo fucking weird ones, but still.
“okay. wait. wait.” you said.
…
“what.”
“i think i’m gonna throw up.”
“fuck—” changbin recoiled.
“not on me.” minho said, backing up.
“turn her head!” felix yelped.
jeongin scrambled backward on his hands and feet.
chan watched seungmin loosen his grip. “are you actually nauseous?”
“yeah.” you croaked, gagging for effect. “stress. adrenaline. it hit now that i’m still.”
hyunjin crouched beside you, studying your face. “you might want to give her space.”
“THANK you.” you gasped.
they got off you. you rolled to your side, clutching your stomach dramatically. and in that shuffle, arms moving, balance adjusting, you shoved your hand straight into chan’s jacket pocket. your fingers hit metal.
keys.
you grabbed them and curled them into your palm just as jeongin leaned back in. “you good?”
you scrambled to your knees, pushing past them, one hand over your mouth, the other clenched tight around the keys.
“don’t run.” chan warned.
you made eye contact with him.
and ran.
“FUCK.” seungmin yelled.
“GO GO GO.” han screamed, even though he was on the wrong side.
you sprinted down the hallway, heart about to explode, keys biting into your palm. behind you, footsteps. but now… less playful. more oh shit.
han tripped. felix ran into a wall. changbin yelled: “STAIRS—CUT HER OFF—” and jeongin was just shouting around for fun. just hootin n hollerin.
you ran down the hall.
behind you, hyunjin’s calm voice said: “don’t panic.” which was because they finally were.
you ran away from them, deep into the house again. you heard the footsteps disappear from behind you. good. good.
you slowed just enough to think. you couldn’t outrun eight of them forever.
chan and hyunjin were walking together on the halls. hyunjin had a small, neat folding knife now loose between his fingers. chan had taken a syringe with him. already prepped. yes, he can do a lot with only one syringe. his other hand kept brushing the empty space where the keys used to be.
he didn’t like that.
“she took them clean.” chan said.
“yeah. good hands.”
“you sound impressed.”
“i am.”
“you like her?”
hyunjin didn’t answer.
“if we lose her, we change locations.” chan said, ignoring that his earlier question didn’t get an answer. he already knew it.
hyunjin nodded. but there was something under it, for the first time, the outcome wasn’t certain. that was unusual for them, because they usually did really, really good at this. once someone was caught by them, there was no escape. you were the first one who lived to a second round. he found that interesting. and yeah, he might have started developing a tiny little crush on you, back when you two were just meeting up normally. so what? he’s allowed to!
jeongin moved alone. still with his axe that he’d twirled into familiarity. he swung it lightly as he walked. he checked corners, smiling. as if he was dancing.
“y/n.” he called, singsong. “be honest, was it the flirting? too much? i can dial it back. slightly.”
he stepped over a fallen chair.
“i just feel like we had chemistry.”
he grinned to himself. he loved this part, the story, the tension, the almost. he knew you were thinking now. they got a thinker. he loves that. ohohohoooo
he paused, listening. then grinned. “oh, you sneaky girl.”
seungmin had the fire poker again. holy shit??
he liked the chase because it stripped people down to instinct, survival. that’s what he respected.
“c’mon.” he murmured. “don’t go quiet on me.”
you were irritating him. he barely got irritated. ever.
changbin and minho moved together. changbin carried an injection case now, plus a heavy flashlight he could swing if needed. minho had a hunting knife.
they turned a corner. empty.
“she’s doing something.” minho realized.
changbin’s smile(that came upon his face while he was thinking about you, hehehe) faded. “oh.”
they heard a noise and both spun, only to slam into each other again.
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE.” minho snapped.
“shit.” changbin said, steadying the other guy by his shoulders. “let’s just go.”
you moved through hallways. your lungs burned, but your head was clear now. you slipped into a side room and crouched low, listening.
footsteps passed. voices echoed elsewhere. they’d spread too wide.
you waited, then moved when you judged safety.
back at the hyunjin chan duo, hyunjin stopped in the hallway. “she’s heading back.” he said quietly.
chan. followed his gaze toward the front of the house. “you sure?”
“yes.”
“how?”
“it’s what i’d do.”
meanwhile, at the front door han sat on the floor, back on the wall, holding a shovel. felix sat beside him on the other side of the door with a frying pan he absolutely did not need to be trusted with.
“…we guarding?” han asked.
felix looked at the door. looked at the hallway. looked back at the door.
“…yeah.” he decided.
they both nodded.
“you think she thinks i’m cute?” han asked, adjusting his grip on the shovel.
“bro. absolutely.”
“really?”
“yea, mate.”
they dapped each other up.
“if she makes it back here, i call saying something smooth.” felix said thoughtfully.
“what’s smooth?”
“i don’t know yet.”
while they talked, you grabbed a metal… something from a side table. and started walking back toward the front door.
“she definitely liked when i said she was hot.” han said.
“respectfully.” felix said.
“respectfully.” han looked away, then back at felix. “she’s gonna be so impressed when we catch her.”
“dude. literally.”
they fist bumped.
then, a loud sound came from down the hallway, and a metal object rolling fast across the floor toward them.
they screamed, then scrambled to their feet, immediately abandoning the door.
“dude. we’re gonna fucking die.” han cried.
felix grabbed his arm. “if y/n was here right now, she’d hold my hand.”
“yeah. she’d be so brave.”
“should we check?”
“no.”
“…we should get the others.”
“yes.”
they ran away from the door, deeper back into the house, yelling for backup.
the front door stood unguarded.
you waited three full seconds after their footsteps faded. then you moved. silent. you didn’t run, that was important. you didn’t want to make noise.
behind you, distant voices.
“FRONT DOOR!”
“THEY LEFT IT—”
you walked to the door quickly. put the key in. wrong key. tried another. wrong key. another. unlocked it. opened it.
now, you ran. you ran, and didn’t stop. you didn’t look back. already past the gate. past the trees. gone.
for the first time ever, they’d lost.
the boys regrouped at the front door. empty. door slightly open.
silence.
chan looked at the door. then at hyunjin, who stared at the gap, face blank. he felt respect. and relief.
seungmin looked at the lock. then at chan’s empty pocket. then back at the lock.
for a second, nobody spoke.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” minho said, sneering.
behind them, han and felix jogged in, out of breath and pale.
“okay.” felix panted. “so—update—there’s a hallway demon—”
they stopped when they saw everyone standing still, all backs turned to them.
felix looked around. “anyone else feel a breeze?”
chan walked to the door in three steps and shoved it open the rest of the way. empty driveway. dark trees. no you.
jeongin blinked. “…no.”
seungmin made a sound like someone had just run over his foot. “noooo.”
minho rubbed both hands down his face. “no no no no—”
jeongin looked at the ceiling. “oh that’s embarrassing. that’s so embarrassing for us.”
han gasped “shit, she did it!”
felix nodded. “i always believed in her.”
they high-fived.
every head turned.
“are you two serious right now?” seungmin snapped.
han immediately jumped into felix arms.
chan stepped back inside slowly and shut the door, quiet. too quiet. “no one moves.” he said.
seungmin was already halfway to the threshold, fire poker still in hand. “we can still see the road—”
chan grabbed his arm. hard. “i said no.”
seungmin yanked free. “she’s on foot.”
“she has a head start.”
jeongin crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “so we just—what—clap?”
“use your brain for once.” chan, voice low. “you’ll make mistakes.”
“oh, i’m sorry.” seungmin snapped. “did your pocket make a mistake?”
OHHHHH.
minho swore and kicked a chair across the room. it smashed into the wall. “THIS is why we don’t get cute.” he said. “this is why we don’t play with our food.”
chanbin winced. “okay, that phrase—”
“not the time.” seungmin cut in.
hyunjin leaned against a table, arms crossed, watching the boys.
seungmin looked at him, suspicious. the level of angry where he gets suspicious at anything. “you’re quiet.”
“thinking.”
“about?”
hyunjin didn’t answer.
“you liked her.” minho accused.
hyunjin’s eyes flicked to him, calm and flat. “irrelevant.”
“bullshit.”
chan stepped between them before it turned physical. “enough.”
“no, not enough.” jeongin shot back. “she got past eight of us. eight.”
“seven.” seungmin muttered. “i was close.”
“YOU HIT A CABINET.” changbin screeched.
felix, still holding han bridal style, raised a hand. “i think we should acknowledge that she was very good.”
everyone stared at him.
han nodded seriously. “and brave.”
minho looked like he might actually kill them. “put him down.”
felix gently set han on his feet.
han immediately pointed at minho. “your energy is aggressive.”
minho grabbed a glass off a table and hurled it into the fireplace. it shattered. “THIS is aggressive.”
“billy badass over there.” changbin murmured, crossing his huge arms.
minho didn’t hesitate to turn towards changbin and shove him. changbin shoved back automatically.
“don’t start.” chan warned.
too late. seungmin grabbed minho’s shoulder and pulled him back. minho shook him off. jeongin stepped between them, not to help, just to watch. “god, you’re all so emotional.” he muttered.
seungmin started toward the door again, fury radiating off him. “i’m going after her.”
now, chan didn’t just stop him but actually pushed him away by the chest. a confident, violent push. manly. frustrated. “no.”
seungmin rounded on him. “she’s RIGHT THERE.”
han raised his hand again. “i still think she likes me.”
everyone yelled at once: “SHUT UP.” “READ THE ROOM.” “YOU WERE AFRAID OF THE DARK.” “SHE HIT YOU WITH A BAT.” “YOU LEFT THE DOOR.”
“we were investigating a threat!” felix said defensively to the last one.
“you are the threat, you idiot!” seungmin barked, then grabbed the front of his own shirt and screamed into it.
minho kicked the wall.
chan exhaled through his nose, centering himself. “no chasing into the dark.” he said. “not like this.”
“she’s getting farther.” jeongin argued.
seungmin made a noise like something dying. chan folded his arms. thinking. hyunjin stared into the night air like he could still see the path you took.
behind them, han whispered to felix: “when we catch her, i’m gonna ask if she thinks my eyes are pretty.”
felix nodded seriously. “they are.”
eight dangerous men. outplayed. and every single one of them wanted you back.
so yeah. that’s what happened, like… two weeks ago now? yeah. about two weeks. now you’re living your life. you hadn’t told anyone. what would you even say? you decided to just leave it. process it. give yourself time to get over it.
now you are standing in line for coffee. life’s been fine since that after all, you deserve it. you slept. eventually. not well, but enough. you changed routines. new routes, new locks, pepper spray, therapy waitlist, the works. you tell yourself you’re fine.
your name gets called.
“hey.”
your stomach drops before your brain catches up. you don’t turn around. because you know that voice. so you grab your coffee and walk. behind you, footsteps.
“okay, so don’t freak out.” jeongin says.
you keep walking.
“that’s actually a terrible opener, sorry, ignore that.”
you cross the street. he crosses too. you don’t look at him. you don’t run. at least you try.
“you look good.” he adds.
“go away.” you say calmly.
“working on it.” he says, which is not how that phrase works.
you turn a corner toward a busier street. people. noise. couples. kids.
“no.” you say.
“i just want to talk.”
“no.”
“did you get a haircut?” he tries.
you stop dead and turn. “how long have you been following me?”
“today? or—”
“jeongin.”
he winces. “okay. today today? like twenty minutes. but not in a creepy way. i was building courage.”
you resume walking faster.
he matches it, breath puffing a little. “listen, i know we didn’t end on a great note.”
“you chased me with an axe.” you cross the street without looking. a car honks. jeongin grabs your sleeve and yanks you back just enough to keep you from getting hit.
you stare at him.
“i didn’t come to hurt you.” he says. “if that helps.”
you keep walking. he groans softly and follows. people passing by just see two hot twenty somethings having what looks like a mildly tense situationship talk. it’s kinda crazy that they have no idea what happened two weeks ago.
you walk faster. he matches it.
“you dropped something.” he blurts. when you give no reaction, he tugs at your sleeve. “really.” he says, pointing behind you.
“that only worked once.” you say, yanking your hand out his grip.
“yeah.” he sighs. “worth a shot.”
a florist stand is set up on the corner. without stopping, jeongin leans sideways, grabs a small bouquet, tosses a crumpled bill onto the table, and keeps moving. he shoves the flowers toward you.
you stare at them. then at him. you don’t take them. but you stop walking and finally look at him.
he looks… normal. hoodie. messy hair. no axe. no grin that clearly tells he’s in animal mode. just this pretty guy.
people move around you, annoyed at the sidewalk blockage.
“you have five seconds.” you say.
he nods, serious now. “okay. we’re not going to hurt you.”
you stare. you start walking again.
he follows. “the boys haven’t shut up about you.”
“that’s not flattering.”
“it kind of is.”
“i don’t know what you want. i’m not coming back.” you say.
“i know.”
“you can’t follow me.”
“already am.”
you reached your apartment building. this is bad. this is very bad. you stop again, turning to face him fully now. his eyes shine.
“we don’t want to kill you.” he says quietly.
you search for anything that could say he’s lying. you can’t find it.
“that doesn’t make you better.” you say.
“i know.”
“you’re still—”
“yeah.”
“…if you come near my place again, i call the cops.”
he nods immediately.
“if i see any of you, i run.”
“mhm.” he holds the flowers out again, then seems to think better of it and just sets them on the sidewalk between you. “i just needed you to see that i’m not… only that.”
“…you are that.” you say. you’re not even being mean, just honest. brutally honest.
“yeah.” he says.
you go inside without looking back. not caring about where will he go, when will he go, why will he go.
the next day, you change your route. different coffee shop. different street. hoodie up, headphones on, just really fucking trying to stay away from them in general. you’re in that coffee shop now. then you step out of the café with your drink, and nearly walk straight into a guy. you flinch back hard.
“whoa—sorry—sorry.” a voice says quickly.
you look up. it takes your brain a second. glasses. plain black frames. simple gray t-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that this man is fucking fit.
changbin.
he gives you a small, awkward wave like you ran into each other and not like he… he found you. “hi.”
you just stare.
“i come in peace.” he adds, lifting both hands.
you close your eyes. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“okay. before you walk away—i deserve that—but just—hi.”
you glance around. public. morning rush. safe enough. “why are you here.”
he adjusts his glasses. “i just wanted to talk. like, normal talk. not chase talk.”
you sigh, and start walking. “you have two minutes before i start screaming.” that’s more time you’ve given jeongin, though.
he falls into step beside you immediately. “you could’ve called the cops.” he says after a moment. genuinely confused. “you still could.”
you look at him. “you don’t think i’ve thought about that?”
“i figured. but you didn’t.”
you sip your coffee, buying time. “you’d disappear before anyone got there.”
“…yeah.” he admits.
“and then what? i spend the rest of my life wondering if you’re gonna show up mad?”
he nods slowly. he can’t argue that.
“also, i don’t want to tell that story out loud. figured it would be the best for me if i just lived through it and got over it. eventually.” you add, quieter.
changbin nods “okay. yeah. that makes sense.”
you study him. he looks the same as in the house, almost friendly. that makes a question pop up in your head. “have you done that before?” you ask. “like. killing people.”
“yeah.”
“how many?”
he blows out a breath through his teeth. “i don’t keep a number.”
“and why?”
he takes a breath, thinking. actually thinking. “it’s not the killing part.” he says slowly. “not for me. that’s just… the end of it. it’s the before. i dunno. i like the teamwork. but that’s just me, ask the others if you want their version.”
you’re confused. “…did something happen in your past?”
he shrugs. “no. grew up rich. had friends. i have a great job. my mom calls me on sundays.”
you stare at him.
“i’m serious.” he says. “i’m just… like this.”
you hate how calmly he says it. “when did you start?”
“early twenties.”
“why didn’t you stop?”
he gives you a small, almost embarrassed smile. “i’m good at it.”
you don’t answer. a car horn blares down the street. someone laughs nearby. the world keeps going, oblivious. “you scared me.” you say.
“i know.”
“you still are.”
“i know.”
you swallow. you check the time on your phone. “i told jeongin i’d scream if any of you came close to me ever again.”
“i heard.”
“you got lucky.”
“i’m glad.”
a bit of silence.
you meet his eyes. “i don’t trust you.”
“you shouldn’t.”
“but you still came now. why? why can’t you leave me alone?”
he shrugs, small and helpless. “i liked talking to you in the kitchen. before we… started.”
ow. sounds bad. so bad that you take a step back. away from him. you’re scared.
“i don’t feel things the way other people do.” he says finally. he wanted to spit that out for a while now, he just couldn’t scrape the courage together. “it’s like everything’s gray unless it’s intense.”
you sigh. “…at least you’re honest.”
he nods. “i just… i wanted one interaction with you that wasn’t you running.”
you watch him. he’s still scary. “you got it.” you say. “now what.”
he shrugs. “now i go away.”
you study him. glasses slightly crooked. trying very hard not to look threatening. failing, because he looks like he could lift a car.
you almost smile. almost. “don’t follow me.” you say.
“i won’t.”
“tell the others.”
“i will.”
you start to walk off.
“hey.” he calls.
you turn, tired.
“you were really impressive.” he says. sincere. really.
you hold his gaze. “i know.”
then you leave him standing on the sidewalk, alone. alone with his horrible, evil soul. alone with this weird dumb crush he recently developed on you. alone with his biceps, flexing because he feels a lot and it just… happens when he feels a lot.
it’s the next day. normal day. sun’s out. people walking dogs. a delivery truck is parked. blablabla anything that says world goes on. you were paranoid this day, sure, but you survived so far. you’re currently locking your apartment building door after yourself so you could go grocery shopping when a voice behind you says:
“okay, don’t be mad.”
you close your eyes. slow inhale. you turn.
it’s felix. and this guy literally tried to shoot you once, you remember clearly, but he looks… perfect. perfect hair. expensive jacket. shoes that cost more than your phone. holding… a container?
you stare.
he smiles, so sweet. “i made you muffins.”
“…you what.”
“blueberry.” he says proudly.
you look at the container, suspicious. “i’m not eating that.”
he frowns a little. “that hurt my feelings.”
“you tried to kill me.”
“sorry.”
you rub your face. “why are you here.”
he shifts his weight. he’s nervous. it’s cute tho. “we voted.” he says.
“you VOTED.”
“yeah.”
“ON WHAT.”
“on not killing you.”
you just stare at him.
he brightens. “it was almost unanimous.”
“WHO voted no?”
“…minho.”
yoy try to step around him toward the street. he mirrors you accidentally.
“felix.”
he freezes. “yeah?”
“move.”
“oh. right. sorry.” he sidesteps so fast he almost falls off the curb.
“you cannot come here.” you say. calm. really hoping he’ll understand. “you cannot follow me. you cannot bake for me. do you understand how insane this is?”
he nods immediately. “yes.”
“then why are you here.”
he looks at the muffins. then at you. “okay. so. we— i— baked.” yes baby, we know. you told us already.
“i see that.”
“for you.”
“i gathered.”
he nods, satisfied that the point has been made.
you start walking. he starts walking. directly into a street sign. it’s loud.
he recoils. “ow.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“is it bleeding?” he asks, pointing at his face, but he immediately goes cross eyed as you push his face away instead. his skin is warm. feels nice tbh. he blinks at you, unbothered. “you have strong hands.”
“go away.”
“okay.” he says.
he does not go away.
you reach the crosswalk and the light changes. felix steps forward without looking. a car honks.
you grab his hand and yank him back.
he stumbles into you.
“jesus.” you mutter, still holding his hand as you cross. “you’d be roadkill in five minutes.”
he looks down at your joined hands, his big eyes shining, absolutely taken aback by the fact that you would do this for him. well, all that until you drop his hand on the other side of the street.
“thanks.” he says cheerfully.
a man wearing a watch worth a month’s rent, carrying something he made for you that you won’t eat, who could absolutely overpower you, and instead just almost died to a car.
“don’t follow me.” you say.
“okay.” he says, still following.
you glance at him. “you’re unbelievably stupid.”
“thank you.” he says.
“that wasn’t—”
“i’ve been working on self-acceptance.”
pffft.
you stop. “felix, listen. i don’t want you guys here.”
he looks at you, tilting his pretty head in confusion.
“you scare me.” you clarify.
“oh.” he says quietly. that, he understood.
you point at the muffins. “those could be drugged.”
“they’re not!”
“i don’t know that.”
silence hangs between you. street noise fills it. someone laughs across the road. life just keeps going.
“i liked talking to you.” he says finally.
“you didn’t talk to me.” you reply. “you hunted me.”
“yeah. i’m sorry.”
you watch him. disappointed that something this beautiful can be this cruel. “you need to leave.”
he nods. but he doesn’t move yet. “do you…” he starts, then stops. tries again. “do you hate us?”
you don’t hesitate. “yes?” of fucking course bro???
his little brain absorbs that. shoulders drop a little. “okay.”
he holds out the muffins one last time, hopeful in the dumbest way possible.
you just look at him.
he lowers them.
“just go, felix. bye.”
“yeah. bye.”
he turns the wrong direction.
you grab his hood and spin him around. “that way.”
“right.” he says, walking off.
he makes it three steps. turns back. holds up the muffin container. “do you want—”
“no.”
“okay.”
he walks into a bike rack.
you watch him go. he looks beautiful.
you hate him.
you check to make sure he crosses the next street safely before you turn away.
that passed too. a few days later you are leaving a pharmacy in the afternoon, receipt crumpled in your fist, focusing on your surroundings now.
and across the street, leaning against a lamppost, is chan. he raised a hand, giving you a little wave, mouthing: you good?
you mouth back go away.
he nods once, then pushes off the pole and walks in the opposite direction. not chasing now. actually walking away.
then you’re in a grocery store, looking at pastas, deciding which one you want to eat tonight. a hand reaches past you and places the more expensive one in your cart.
you turn. it’s seungmin. black hoodie. baseball cap.
you immediately pull it back out. “no.”
he takes it. puts it back into the cart.
“no.”
back in.
“stop.”
it went on for a good five minutes.
at checkout, you unload your stuff, and when you’re about to pay, seungmin comes up behind you and wordlessly uses his card. do you process that in the head? no, only when he is already at the exit, hands in his pockets, not looking back.
he walks straight into the automatic door before it finishes opening. you hear the thud.
you rub your temples.
then you’re walking through the park because that’s the shorter way home. peaceful. sunlight. children playing. then the bush next to the sidewalk starts shaking.
you stop. you kick the bush. han tumbles out directly at your feet. face in dirt.
“…hi.” he says into the grass.
you look down at him. “were you hiding?”
he looks up at you, leaves in his hair, expression hopeful. “no.”
you start walking again. he scrambles up and follows, then trips on the sidewalk edge.
you catch his sleeve before he eats pavement. “use your brain.”
he nods seriously. “i keep meaning to.”
next time about days later, you see felix before he sees you. he’s staring into a store window, clearly confused by mannequins.
you walk past.
noticing that, he turns and his pretty little face lights up. “hi!”
“hi. don’t.”
“okay.”
he walks into a mailbox.
you only see hyunjin once, at a distance. not close enough to speak. just standing outside a train station, hands in his coat pockets, watching the crowd, not just you.
when your eyes meet, he doesn’t smile, just gives a small nod. then he leaves.
days after that it’s seungmin again. at night. parking lot. you only came with car because it was too far. you’re unlocking your car and a shadow leans against the hood.
“you’ve been avoiding me.” seungmin says, casual as hell, like he didn’t once swing a fire poker at your skull. “man.” he continues “small world, right?”
you turn, pepper spray in hand, and spray it directly into his eyes.
he screams, drops to his knees, clawing at his face. “OH MY GOD IT’S LIKE SATAN PISSED IN MY EYES—”
“stop finding me!” you yell.
he’s laughing through the pain. laughing. “you look good today.”
you drive off while he’s still swearing.
the next time minho follows you through a bookstore. keeps pretending to browse. picks up a book upside down. so you turn a corner and wait. he walks right into it. he also gets a taste of your pepper spray.
“SON OF A BITCH.” he chokes, doubling over between romance and self help. “you fucking—”
“YOU’RE STALKING ME.”
they find you in different places. weeks apart. or days apart. but they always come back.
something is clearly wrong with them. like, all eight are sick in the head. but it doesn’t seem like they’re following you around to kill you. they talk too long. they get distracted. they bring you things. they absolutely eat shit every time you fight back. and you do fight back. diva.
minho and seungmin have been pepper sprayed so many times they flinch when you reach into your bag. jeongin tries every possible pickup line on you. han once tried to sneak up on you and got hit in the face with your tote bag and apologized.
it’s ike they’re still in hunting mode. after you. into you. but now they’re… unsure. they don’t seem to want you dead anymore. they just… want you around now. or to just be around you, at least.
it’s the middle of the night right now. you’re in old sweatpants, hair a mess, waiting for the food you ordered. and soon enough, the doorbell rings. you shuffle over and look through the peephole for a second. delivery uniform. cap. bag. seems normal. so you open the door.
it’s felix. smiling ear to ear, holding your takeout, wearing the uniform jacket and cap. “hi!”
“absolutely not.” you say, already closing the door.
he sticks his foot in. “wait, wait—don’t slam it, the soup’ll spill—”
that’s when you see it, behind him, in the hallway. a man on the floor. the delivery uniform pants still on him, only his jacket gone, the one on felix right now. there’s blood under the man.
your stomach drops. your organs drop. after staring for about a minute, you slowly look back at felix. “…is that—”
“okay.” he says quickly. “before you freak out—”
“BEFORE I FREAK OUT?? YOU KILLED THE DELIVERY GUY?!”
jeongin leans into view, coming next to felix, hands in pockets. “it wasn’t him who killed the guy.”
you point wildly, not even concerned about the fact that there’s two of them now. “THAT IS A PERSON ON THE FLOOR.”
“yeah but like…” minho says, stepping into the doorframe, arm around felix’s shoulders now. “he’s not using the uniform anymore.”
your mouth opens. nothing comes out.
and then, without a word, chan walks past you. into your home. into your fucking home. felix shrugs and follows him. the other six too, actually taking their shoes off.
YOU ARE STILL HOLDING THE DOOR. THEY JUST WALK AROUND YOU.
“what—no—no—no—” you manage, backing up as they enter.
han closes the door gently behind them. “heat’s nice in here.” he says.
hyunjin looks at you and mutters a quiet but confident “hi” before going further into your living room.
changbin walks past you and spins slowly, taking in the room. “oh this is cute. this is very you.”
“YOU BROUGHT A CORPSE TO MY DOOR.” you choke.
felix is still holding the food bag. “your noodles are getting cold.” he says softly.
you make a noise that doesn’t exist in human language. (imagine something close to a windows crash sound)
seungmin tosses his jacket over a chair. there’s a smear of blood on his sleeve.
you gag.
he notices. “oh, relax. it’s mostly the delivery guy’s.”
“OH MY GOD.”
“hey, where’s the hand soap?” han asks, already at your kitchen sink, washing blood off his fingers.
you stare at the red swirling down your drain.
jeongin flops onto your couch. “i like what you did with the lighting in here. mood.”
“GET OUT.” you say, voice coming back in bursts. “GET—OUT—OF—MY—APARTMENT.”
they all look at you. it’s obvious that they don’t really understand what’s your problem.
chan gestures toward the takeout bag. “eat first.”
“I DON’T WANT THE FOOD.”
felix looks devastated. “you picked the combo meal…”
changbin is by your bookshelf now. “you alphabetized? that’s hot.”
“a— i— eugh— what is HAPPENING.”
minho leans against the wall. “okay, in our defense—”
“there is NO DEFENSE.”
“—we didn’t come to kill you.”
“YOU’RE TRACKING BLOOD ON MY FLOOR.”
they all look down.
han lifts his foot. “…shit.”
jeongin points at him. “mop boy.”
han salutes and grabs paper towels.
“listen.” chan says, turning to be in front of you. “we just wanted to see you.”
you stare at him. then at the door. “…you couldn’t text?” you ask hoarsely.
eight grown ass serial killer men exchange glances.
jeongin shrugs. “didn’t have your number.” that’s alright sweetie, not like you can’t find a phone number when you can find an address perfectly. not like you can’t ask for it from HYUNJIN.
you make another sound.
changbin steps closer, hands up, gentle. “okay, hey. we know this looks bad.”
“LOOKS—”
“bad phrasing.” he admits.
seungmin rubs the back of his neck. “we didn’t plan the delivery guy part.”
“that’s WORSE.” you sag against the wall. “you have got to be shitting me.” you whisper to yourself. then you look at them. all of them. in your apartment. on your couch. at your sink. in your life. “out.”
they don’t move.
jeongin tilts his head. “we just got here—”
“OUT.”
changbin actually flinches.
seungmin raises his hands. “okay, volume—”
“you killed someone. again, i assume. and brought it to my DOOR. do you understand how fucking insane that is?”
silence.
“i can’t sleep normally. i check reflections everywhere. i don’t walk with headphones anymore. do you get that? do you get what you did to my brain? i couldn’t function for weeks. every sound was footsteps. every guy walking behind me was one of you. i have three different hiding spots in my own apartment.”
han raises a hand slightly. “this one’s not great.”
“NO IT IS NOT GREAT.”
felix looks genuinely confused. “we didn’t think about… after.”
“YEAH. THAT’S THE PROBLEM. you don’t think about after. you don’t think about people being PEOPLE. you think about adrenaline and teamwork and your little murder club hangouts.”
changbin crosses his arms. “okay when you say it like that—”
“how else is there to say it??” you gesture wildly at the room.
they don’t look guilty. they look… attentive. they’re paying attention. trying to understand you.
you swallow. “no, seriously. i want to know. when you followed me for weeks? when you showed up at my job? when i thought every man walking behind me was about to grab me? that was fun for you?”
seungmin shrugs. “engaging.”
you grab the nearest thing, a throw pillow, and launch it at his face. then relax your shoulders and sigh. “i am a person. with a nervous system. i had a normal life before you guys.”
there’s a long pause.
felix raises a hand slightly. “your food is still warm.”
“READ THE ROOM.”
he lowers it.
han whispers to him: “she’s upset-upset.”
“no shit.” you snap.
chan has his hands on his hips. “you’re saying we made you paranoid and ruined your life.”
you stare. “…are you fucking for real right now.”
“trying to understand the damage.”
“DAMAGE???”
jeongin leans forward on the couch, elbows on knees. “we don’t feel fear like that, or guilt the way you do.”
“yeah, i noticed.”
“but we’re not dumb.” hyunjin says quietly.
your eyes flick to him.
he meets them. calm. honest in a deeply unsettling way. “we know we changed your life. we can see the behavioral shifts. we know what we did. we just don’t care.“
you blink. does this fucking asshole hear himself.
he continues. “and what you’re saying is that our continued presence equals harm.”
you blink “yes.”
“even without immediate violence.”
“YES.”
he nods once. processing. filing it somewhere in his terrifyingly organized brain.
chan takes over. “we’re saying, we understand the outcome. even if we don’t experience the emotion attached.”
changbin rubs his neck. “we didn’t think about the after. usually there isn’t one.”
you let that sit. “yeah.” you say. “because people die.”
quiet.
han finally says, softly: “you didn’t.”
you look at him. “no. i didn’t. and now i have to live with what you did.”
there’s a long silence.
then jeongin claps his hands once. “so. solution. anyone? ideas?”
you point at him without looking. “you are on thin fucking ice.”
he mimes zipping his mouth.
seungmin rubs his face. “okay, but question.”
you glare.
“when we stopped trying to actually kill you… that didn’t help?”
you just stare at him. “…you hear yourself, right?”
he thinks about it. “…yeah.”
felix looks like he’s actually using his brain for once. “we thought… not finishing the job was growth.”
“that is the lowest bar i have ever heard in my LIFE.”
but you see, the thing is, this is a system error for them. you’re not prey right now. you’re not running. you’re furious, first of all. human. loud. hurt. they don’t know this game. they only know the killing and manipulating one, but they want to have you. they just… don’t know how to get you.
chan clears his throat. “so the correct action would be… removal of our presence.”
“yes.”
“immediately.”
“so fucking immediately.”
“we don’t want to kill you.” minho cuts in, hoping that this saves their situation a bit.
“yeah, you told me a hundred times already. your point?” you ask
“we like you.”
you make a face like you bit into soap. “that is not how liking works.”
“for you.” he agrees.
chan exhales. decisive. “we adjust behavior.”
you cross your arms. “into WHAT?”
silence.
felix brightens. “dinner?”
you stare at him.
han nods eagerly.
you look around the room at eight serial killers in your living space, one of them holding a roll of paper towels covered in someone else’s blood. “…dinner.”
changbin shrugs. “low pressure environment. public. you feel safer. we practice acting normal.”
minho adds: “exposure therapy. for all parties.”
“i just gave a speech about how you ruined my sense of safety.” you whisper, voice defeated.
hyunjin nods. “we heard you.”
“and you want to take me to DINNER.”
“yes.”
“why.”
he doesn’t hesitate. “because harming you is now counterproductive to the thing we want.”
you are actually taken aback by the words this guy uses. “…which is?”
he holds your gaze.
“you.”
the room goes quiet.
then han whispers to felix, way too loud: “is this flirting?”
“yeah.” felix whispers back. “i think this is the good kind.”
you drag a hand down your face. “…get the fuck out of my apartment.”
they stand, immediately obedient. getting their shoes on and whatnot.
changbin gives you a small wave. “we’ll text?”
“you do not have my number.”
jeongin points at hyunjin. “he’ll give it to us.”
“I WILL CALL THE POLICE.”
they walk out.
han pauses at the door. “sorry about the sink.”
door closes. silence. your apartment is a disaster. your life is worse.
but… they looked weirdly sincere, actually. and they were.
soon, they stopped showing up unannounced. mostly. they also stopped bringing weapons into your line of sight. mostly. and they stopped treating you like prey. completely.
how were they about you, comes the question.
obsessed.
and they did not process attachment normally. if they processed it. they did not understand love. but they understood preference, and if you told them enough times, then eventually they understood your emotions too. well, not understood, but they processed the fact that you feel the way you feel and they can do something about it if they actually try.
han once fell down an entire staircase because someone said your name and he turned too fast. chan pretended he wasn’t competitive about board games and then absolutely lost his mind over monopoly. hyunjin brought you flowers all the time. you learned that seungmin always had to sleep on his stomach.
you started to understand the function of them. not excuse, no. absolutely not. just understand and process the fact that they’re how they are. and you couldn’t do shit about it, and you couldn’t get rid of them now. so you lived with it.
they still killed, of course. that was one of the few things that brought them happiness in life, so you couldn’t expect them to stop doing it. they didn’t kill around you, though.
but you knew they still did it. and you could feel when the tension built when they haven’t hurt anybody in a long time.
it also… what’s the right word, scared? impressed? took you aback? could be either, what matters is that when you saw that all of them had it in them, even han and felix who behaved like total angels throughout the day, it… upset you. or just moved something in you, seeing that each of them has that empty place where fear or guilt or empathy should go.
they didn’t kill out of anger. it was release. their brains were wired wrong. thrill, control, mastery, stimulation, those hit the reward centers. violence scratched an itch they couldn’t reach any other way.
and after, they were calmer. lighter, like they’d gone for a run. when they were satisfied with themselves, they tried to tell you about it. you always stopped them, because you did NOT need to hear the horrible things they did. no matter how much they wanted to brag about it, how much they wanted to make you proud.
you weren’t safe in the world, but you were weirdly safe with them. and they would have died for you.
but you had to set rules. actual rules. “do not follow me into bathrooms.” “do not threaten my coworkers.” “do not kill anyone within a five-mile emotional radius of me.” the basics. and they tried. god, they tried. but they didn’t really… do well.
once you opened your door to seungmin at one in the morning, and he stood there, breathing a little heavy, COVERED in blood.
you just stared.
he stared back.
“…you good?” he asked.
“are you good??”
“oh. yeah. not mine.”
you almost slammed the door. he stopped it with a hand, but gently. always that now.
“didn’t come here for that.” he said.
“for what, seungmin, WHAT possible reason makes this a normal social call.”
he shrugged. “adrenaline crash. didn’t wanna be alone.”
that did something weird to your chest. not forgiving, just… information. because you realized that now they wanted you. your company, your voice, your hands. and it felt good.
anyways, you told him to take a shower, then you let him hang out with you.
they also fought each other more than they ever fought you.
once minho and jeongin, two extremely capable men mind you, actually went for each other’s throats in your kitchen while hyunjin and chan tried to separate them.
you yelled at them then. they paused and looked at you.
jeongin, bleeding from the lip, grinned. but like in that hot way. “sorry.”
“take it outside if you’re gonna be like this.” you told them.
“fair.” chan said, dragging minho back by the collar.
you weren’t scared of them like prey anymore. you were scared of the capacity. the strength. the speed. the way the air changed when something in them flipped.
you’d seen what they could do, you just weren’t the target now.
they were on your dick constantly, though. emotionally. socially. existentially. texting wasn’t their thing, but presence was. which meant they showed up unannounced a lot. but the reason for that was that they didn’t want to lose access to you, to be honest. didn’t like the thought of that.
one night you opened the door to changbin. he told you he was going to come over later. well, it was late. around midnight.
when he saw you, his eyes lit up, and wrapped you in the warmest, most affectionate, full-body hug of your life.
you froze.
because he was sticky.
wet sleeve. iron smell. your cheek against his skin. your hands touching the back of his shirt.
he squeezed tighter, cheek against your hair. “missed you.”
you pulled back.
looked down.
this boy was covered in blood.
he smiled, soft, relieved. “hi.”
you shoved back, stumbling, hand over your mouth, already shaking your head like that would stop it. you barely made it to the sink before you threw up in it.
from the hallway, jeongin yelled: “did you forget again??”
“I GOT EXCITED.”
hyunjin was the only one who followed you then, already grabbing a towel, turning on the sink. he didn’t look at changbin, and he didn’t look at the blood. he looked at you. “i’ve got you. you’re okay. breathe.”
they kept forgetting what you were. alive. normal. human. that for you it was a body, a person, a life.
it wasn’t the only time, of fucking course. they’d be loose, relaxed, calm. you’d be staring at hands that had done something irreversible two hours ago. there were a few nights like that, a sleeve not changed, a stain not noticed, you throwing up in your own kitchen while eight men who could disassemble a human being panicked because they’d upset you.
not because they felt guilt like you did. because they’d hurt something important in the environment. you. you, who sometimes made it to the sink, sometimes didn’t.
they did learn, though. slowly. painfully. they didn’t feel what you felt, but they learned it mattered. which, for them, was the closest thing to empathy available in the system.
you fell asleep on the couch once while they were over. you didn’t mean to. how could you mean to, when you knew what they were capable of?
and you woke up pinned. well, luckily not trapped, just surrounded. han was hugging your ankle. felix was using your shoulder as a pillow. changbin had an arm across your middle. jeongin was half off the couch but anyways. seungmin pretended he wasn’t involved but his foot was hooked under your leg.
they didn’t experience comfort like most people did. but proximity? pressure? familiar scent? that, they liked.
they were really, really glad that you survived them. and because of that, somewhere in their broken little predator brains, you became home. and what do predators do? bring things home.
once han showed up beaming, holding something behind his back.
“i got you flowers.” he said.
you blinked. that was… new.
he revealed it.
you stared.
it was technically arranged like a bouquet. the only problem was that… they were human lower arms. a lot of them. like flowers. just… arms.
you made a noise. you looked away, then back at it, then had to look away again.
“i thought it was romantic.” he said, crushed.
“honey, i appreciate that, but—“ you gagged. held the doorframe. teared up.
he watched you throw up then. patted your back after.
felix once brought you a wallet because “you’re always losing yours.”
you opened it. immediately closed it. “felix.”
“yeah?”
“return that.”
chan was… fucking brutal. he didn’t bring objects. he brought information.
“found a guy who’d been stalking women in your area.” he said once.
you went cold. “…what did you do.”
he met your eyes calmly. “took care of him, of course.”
you didn’t know whether to scream or say thank you. this one wasn’t bad, actually. you just had to sit down for a minute.
they were not house trained though, not even a little. one time you caught seungmin about to piss in your giant houseplant.
“seungmin.” you sighed.
he froze midzip. “…yeah?”
“if you water that plant with your BODY i will end you.”
“okay, okay.” he said, offended. “god. boundaries.”
felix once wiped his hands on your curtains. han sat on your coffee table. minho had to be told three separate times that knives did not belong “wherever feels right.” changbin once tried to “air out” your apartment by opening every window during winter.
and jeongin was just really spontaneous in general. if a guy talked to you, he would insert himself into the conversation, no matter what. “bro.” he’d say, arm slung over the stranger’s shoulders. “i love your confidence. truly. quick question, how attached are you to having kneecaps?”
you hit him. he’d grin. the stranger would evaporate.
hyunjin was the only one who got you normal gifts. they were… brutally expensive, yeah, and you had no idea where he had that kind of money from, but you appreciated every gift from him.
and oh my fucking god, the mailman. felix hated the mailman. for no reason. the man was fifty something and friendly. still, every time the mail arrived, felix would appear at your window, talking bout sum “he’s back.” ???
“felix, that’s his job.”
“yeah but why is he always here?”
“because i live here. that’s how mail works.”
the suspicion remained.
but beneath all the insanity, the red flags, the daily reminder that they could bring a corpse to your doorstep any day, they were sincere. they never played with your feelings. never lied about what they were. never pretended.
they just… adjusted their behavior around one central rule, which was not to lose you. to keep you safe, even if they didn’t understand why they wanted to keep you so safe. or why did you find so many things they did wrong.
you had, at one point, physically grabbed felix by the hair and yanked him backward because he was halfway out your front door, whispering “i just wanna talk to him.” about the mailman.
“NO.” you barked, fist in his hair.
“he’s BEEN HERE THREE TIMES THIS WEEK.” felix insisted.
“THAT IS HOW MAIL WORKS.”
he did not agree with you.
changbin loved cheek kisses. loved them. unfortunately, changbin also had a chronic issue where he just… forgot he was holding things. knife. wrench. crowbar. gun.
you’d feel a gentle kiss on your cheek and open your eyes to see cold steel six inches from your face.
“baby.” you’d say.
“oh, shit.” weapon would go on the table like car keys. “sorry.” he’d say, and kiss your other cheek, now technically unarmed.
then once you mentioned to hyunjin that you were cold and he wordlessly took off his jacket. it had a suspicious stain. he saw you notice.
“…i’ll get another one.” he said immediately.
because he really didn’t want you to be cold. not like he understood what your problem was with a little blood, but alright. anything for you.
now that i’m getting carried away with the stories, i’ll tell you that han did not understand personal space.
for an example, if you scolded him? immediate cling. you’d finish saying “you cannot threaten the barista for writing my name wrong” and suddenly he’d be attached to your side, rubbing his face into you, arms around your shoulders, chin on your head.
“okay, but we’re good though, right?”
“sweetie, i’m trying to pay.”
he’d nod against your hair, not moving. that went on for twelve minutes until a woman asked if he was concussed.
they clung like that a lot, they didn’t understand a lot, they acted up a lot, they hated a lot, but they loved one thing.
you.
they didn’t understand jealousy as an emotion. they understood it as something wrong with their insticts, and you in danger. how did that make sense? it didn’t. it just sounded horrible. because it was. but it was also the most sincere attachment they were capable of.
you were still scared sometimes, still human, compared to them(they’re literally almost not human in their senses). still deeply aware of what they were, and reminded of it a lot of times, of course.
but they’d learned one thing with absolute certainty.
you were not a victim anymore, you were something new to them, to their lives, something…. let’s say home.
and they were trying, badly, incorrectly, concerningly, to deserve to be there.
