IV. the mask ⋆ 🜄 hyunjin
✨event masterlist✨
"You don't have to be scared of me"
summary: it started small, no one thought much of it. late nights, quiet calls, then suddenly the news hit— someone died. everyone was shocked except one.
pairing: ghostface!hyunjin x fem!reader
genre / tags: unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), knife play, orgasm denial, dom!hyunjin, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, sub!reader, dacryphilia, pet names (baby, good girl, pet), cum swallowing, degrading, dirty talk, (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 6.8k
•••
minors dni— you will be blocked
○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
You were sprawled on the couch, Khara draped next to you, whispering at Lynn about some absurd detail in the rom-com. Jisung was leaning on the counter, throwing popcorn at Seungmin, who barely flinched, muttering, “You’re gonna choke one day and then who’s laughing, huh?” Alec snorted from his chair, tugging a blanket over his knees.
Hyunjin didn’t join in. Not really. He leaned against the fridge, scrolling, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes flicking between everyone.
“Seriously, why is she wearing that?” Lynn whispered, pointing at the main character on the TV.
“Because it’s a rom-com, not a fashion show,” Khara said, snorting.
“Pfft. Obviously. But look at those shoes,” Lynn insisted.
You laughed quietly, shaking your head. None of it mattered much; you were used to these moments, the small absurdities that made the quiet easier to bear.
Then Hyunjin’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, narrowed his eyes for a split second, and then shoved it back into his pocket like nothing happened.
“Hyun, you gonna eat that?” Jisung asked, tossing him a piece of popcorn.
“Later,” he said, voice low, almost distracted.
The conversation meandered as it always did, laughter spilling into jokes and gentle teasing. Hyunjin stayed in his corner, silent but present.
When he left—just a casual “be right back” and a shrug—you didn’t think anything of it. None of you did.
He walked down the block, checking the street before slipping into the shadows. Changbin was waiting, leaning against his car with that easy smirk he always carried.
“You sure about this?” Changbin asked, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t miss,” Hyunjin said, clipped. “And keep the engine running. Clean exit.”
The plan was simple. Target Seungmin’s ex—a known problem, harassing him again—and Hyunjin handled it. Nothing personal beyond the job, nothing that anyone would trace back to him.
Changbin drove while Hyunjin double-checked the gear in the passenger seat. Gloves, mask, and the tools he needed. His movements were calm, precise, methodical—like a part of him had been doing this his whole life.
“She’s alone?” Changbin asked again.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin said. “Front door unlocked. Won’t be gone long.”
Minutes later, they were inside. Hyunjin. One swift strike—and the ex was no longer a problem. He checked the body, made sure there was nothing left behind.
Changbin had already brought the bag. Together, they made sure nothing connected the scene to them.
“Clean,” Hyunjin murmured, stepping back.
“Same as always,” Changbin replied, calm.
Back at the apartment, he returned like he’d never left. Grabbed a soda from the fridge, leaned against the counter, smiling faintly at Khara.
“You okay?” she asked, squinting slightly.
“Yeah, just stepped outside for air,” he said, casual, like the world hadn’t shifted at all.
You and the rest of the group never knew. You laughed at Lynn’s jokes, Jisung tossed popcorn, Seungmin muttered under his breath, Alec tried to nap. And Hyunjin just existed in the corner.
It wasn’t a hobby but a job— going around killing the ones who hurt his friends, whether they said it or not.
In his knowledge of things, he wanted to hurt people for good reasons, even if who he’d done it for ended up in tears.
Hyunjin had done this before, but the quiet moments around it never got easier. It was like stepping into a rhythm that no one else noticed.
Changbin passed him the gloves without looking up. “Zoning out again.”
He took them, pulling each finger on slowly. “Just thinking.”
“Don’t,” Changbin said flatly. “You think too much and freeze. Move.”
Hyunjin didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Changbin handled everything else: the calls, the prep, the cleanup. He just showed up when it was time.
The drive was quiet. The engine hummed low, a steady background against his own heartbeat.
“She’s alone?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.
Changbin nodded. “Confirmed. Same as the last few. Clean shot.”
Hyunjin didn’t respond. He didn’t need to explain. It wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about thrill. It was about balance.
When the car stopped, he reached for the mask from the glove compartment. Cheap plastic. Nothing flashy. Changbin didn’t watch; he’d seen it all before.
“Ten minutes,” Changbin said. “No more.”
Hyunjin nodded and stepped into the night.
The street was empty. He moved steadily, quietly. No hesitation. He called the number he’d saved in his phone. Waited for the answer, a brief pause, nothing unnecessary. Hung up.
Inside the apartment, she hummed in the kitchen, oblivious. Hyunjin paused just outside, listening. The timing was clean, precise.
He moved in and acted. The knife was quick, controlled. She didn’t scream. He caught her quietly, lowered her to the floor. Phone off.
Outside, Changbin was at the trunk. Together, they lifted the body with practiced coordination. The rhythm was unspoken.
“You’re faster,” Changbin said, lighting a cigarette.
“Not really. You’re slower,” Hyunjin replied, shutting the trunk.
“Age,” Changbin said, smirking.
Hyunjin didn’t answer. Back in the car, he pulled off the gloves, tossed them in the bag. Drive back was silent.
“Same spot?” Changbin asked eventually.
“Yeah. River won’t tell,” Hyunjin said, voice low.
When they returned to the others, it was like nothing happened. Hoodie clean, hair neat, nothing out of place. Jisung was mid-story, Seungmin rolling his eyes, Lynn laughing. Khara waved him over.
“Where’ve you been?” she asked.
“Got some air,” he said, cracking a soda. Nothing more.
None of them ever noticed. None of them ever would.
——
The TV had been running for hours — random shows, half-finished movies — just background noise to fill the silence. You were scrolling through your phone, Hyunjin beside you on the couch, legs stretched out, hood up. Neither of you were really paying attention.
Then the tone of the room shifted.
“Breaking news,” the reporter’s voice came through, clear and serious. “Police discovered the body of a young woman near the Han River early this morning. Authorities have identified her as—”
The name made your head lift.
“Wait,” you muttered, frowning. “Did she just say…?”
Hyunjin didn’t answer right away. He looked up too, just once, the blue light from the screen flashing across his face.
The photo appeared — her smile bright and sharp, a little too familiar.
“Isn’t that—” you started, voice lowering.
“Jisung’s ex,” Hyunjin said before you could finish.
You blinked. “Yeah. What the hell?”
The reporter went on, talking about the area she was found in, that it looked like a targeted attack. You leaned forward slightly, elbow on your knee.
“She cheated on him, right?” you asked quietly.
“Mm.” Hyunjin’s tone was neutral, eyes back on his phone. “It got ugly for a while.”
The anchor kept talking about witness statements, about how no one had seen or heard anything. The details were vague, but enough to make your stomach twist.
“That’s so messed up,” you said, voice soft. “Even if she was… like that. No one deserves—”
“I know.”
Hyunjin said it simply, no emotion behind it. He leaned back again, thumb scrolling, like the segment was nothing more than background noise.
You looked at him for a second. “You’re not surprised?”
He shrugged. “People get caught up with the wrong ones all the time. Jisung’s better off with Khara anyway.”
“Still,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s just crazy seeing her face on the news like that.”
He hummed, a quiet sound of agreement, though he didn’t look up again. The silence that followed was strange — not uncomfortable, just heavy in a way you couldn’t name.
After a minute, he reached for the remote and changed the channel.
“Hyunjin—”
He cut you off lightly. “You don’t need to keep watching that.”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”
A sitcom started playing. The laugh track filled the room.
You pulled the blanket higher over your legs, eyes half on the screen. “Do you think Jisung’s okay?”
“He’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said. “He doesn’t talk about her anymore.”
You smiled faintly. “Guess he got lucky then.”
Hyunjin’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, unreadable. “Yeah,” he said. “Lucky.”
—~~—
You’d always been impatient.
When you met Zac, you didn’t even try to play it cool. It didn’t take long for you to get together. Within a month, you were already calling it official.
He was good to you, in his own way. But he was slow. Two hours just to get ready, forgetting to reply because he was gaming, showing up late to dates, replying to your messages only when he was half asleep. You loved him, but you also wanted to scream half the time.
Still, this time hit different.
He was supposed to meet you at three. It was almost eight now, and you still hadn’t heard a thing. You texted him, ranted a little, but he never replied. You went to bed angry, and woke up feeling exactly the same.
The next morning, everything was normal until a knock came at the door. Too early for mail. You opened it to find a delivery guy holding a box. You didn’t think much of it, just took it inside, thanked him, and set it on the counter.
When you opened it, your body went cold.
Inside was a hand — an actual hand — and two Polaroids. The first showed a knife pressed against Zac’s chest. The second… Ghostface standing over him. Underneath was a small folded note. You picked it up with shaking hands.
“Let’s see how he can touch you again.”
You froze. Everything inside you went numb for a second before panic kicked in. You grabbed your phone, snapped a picture, and sent it straight to the group chat without even thinking.
Your phone started blowing up instantly — calls, texts, notifications all at once. Then Seungmin’s name popped up on your screen. You answered right away.
“Holy shit, what the fuck is that?” he practically yelled.
“I don’t know! The delivery guy dropped it off and I just— I opened it and—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence.
There was shuffling, and then more voices joined the call. Jisung. Khara. “Holy shit, Y/n,” Jisung said, his voice shaky. “Is that… real?”
“I don’t know! Zac didn’t reply to me yesterday, I was pissed, and now this—”
Another gasp. Lynn had joined the call too. “Oh my god. What the fuck? Did you call the police?”
You shook your head even though they couldn’t see you. “No. I didn’t know what to do. I just sent the photo first.”
Everyone started talking over each other — call the cops, don’t touch anything, go somewhere safe — it was all noise until another knock hit your door. Your heart dropped.
You walked over slowly and opened it. Hyunjin stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning your face.
“I came as soon as I saw the picture,” he said.
You stepped aside automatically, and he came in.
The others were still yelling through your phone, so you just put it on speaker. “Hyunjin’s here,” you said, setting it down on the table.
There was a pause on the line before Lynn spoke again. “Okay good, maybe he can help— but Y/n, seriously, call the cops.”
Hyunjin’s voice came in quiet but firm. “She can’t.”
Everyone on the call went silent. You looked at him, confused. “What do you mean I can’t?”
He met your eyes for a second, then sighed. “Zac’s not the first. There’ve been others. The cops dropped the case months ago. No leads, no bodies. Just… gone.”
No one said anything. You could almost hear everyone processing it.
“He’s right,” Jisung said after a beat. “They’ll think you’re lying. They’ll make it worse.”
You sat down slowly, your head spinning. You’d seen news about people disappearing, sure, but this— this felt too close now.
“So what do I do then?” you asked quietly.
“Stay with one of us. Don’t be alone,” Khara said immediately. “I’m coming over.”
You nodded, staring down at the floor as the call ended.
When you looked up, Hyunjin was watching you. Calm. Almost too calm.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, voice soft.
You nodded. “I just… I don’t know what to do with it.”
He glanced at the box. “I’ll take care of it.”
You looked at him, unsure. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thank you.”
He gave you a small smile. “I’ll always be here for you,” he said. “You know that, right?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I know.”
Your phone buzzed again — Khara saying she was outside. You stood and went to open the door. She didn’t waste a second before hugging you so tight you could barely breathe.
“I was freaking out,” she said against your shoulder.
“I’m okay,” you told her, though your voice was a little shaky. You glanced over her shoulder — Hyunjin was standing by the box, looking down at it. His face didn’t show much, but something about the way he stood there made your stomach turn.
“Thanks for coming,” you said to Khara.
Hyunjin straightened up. “I’ll get rid of it,” he said, already picking up the box.
You didn’t ask where he was taking it. You just nodded, trusting him.
Khara looked between the two of you. “You okay?” she asked you again.
“I’m fine,” you lied, rubbing your arms. “Just cold.”
She nodded, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push it.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin stepped outside, the door creaking slightly as he went. He pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear.
“It’s done,” he said, the faintest edge of satisfaction in his tone.
There was a pause before Changbin answered. “You sure she didn’t see anything?”
“She didn’t,” Hyunjin said, glancing back at your apartment window. “She’s freaked out, though. Keeps shaking. I think she believes everything.”
Changbin let out a small laugh. “Of course she does. I still don’t get why you didn’t just dump it somewhere. Why deliver it?”
“Because she had to see it,” Hyunjin muttered, leaning against the wall. “She wouldn’t believe he was gone otherwise. This way, she’ll move on faster.”
Changbin hummed, half amused, half uneasy. “Move on to you, huh?”
Hyunjin didn’t say anything at first, just stared down at his shoes. “Maybe,” he admitted. “He was in the way. She deserves someone who actually gives a shit about her.”
Changbin sighed, “you’re losing it, man. You say it like you didn’t just send her a hand in a box.” “I did what I had to do. You’ve seen her—how sad she looked waiting for that idiot. He didn’t care about her. I do.”
Changbin stayed quiet for a few seconds—leaving the line quiet.
“Alright,” he finally said. “But you gotta be careful. You’re walking on thin ice with this one. If she finds out—”
“She won’t,” Hyunjin cut in. “She trusts me. I’ll make sure it stays that way.”
Changbin exhaled slowly. “You sound too sure for someone who just buried a dude.”
Hyunjin smirked faintly, his eyes flicking toward the box sitting by the dumpster. “That’s why I called you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Changbin muttered. “I’ll clean it up, don’t worry. Just… keep your head straight, alright? Don’t let this obsession screw you over.”
“It’s not an obsession,” Hyunjin said. “It’s love.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, lover boy,” he said finally. “I’ll take care of the rest. Don’t call me for a few days. And Hyun—don’t do anything stupid.”
Hyunjin’s smile faded, his tone quiet but steady. “I won’t.”
——
The funeral didn’t look like how you pictured it. You thought there’d be people sobbing in rows, maybe some dramatic moment where everyone shared memories and broke down together—but it wasn’t like that. It was quiet. Too quiet.
The room smelled like flowers, the kind that were probably expensive but still smelled fake.
You sat near the middle, hands clasped, eyes stuck on the black-and-white photo of Zac at the front. He was smiling in it. You hated that picture. He looked too alive.
Someone behind you sniffled loudly, and a few heads turned. You didn’t. You just stared.
Hyunjin sat beside you. He hadn’t said a word since you got there. He didn’t have to.
When people started going up to say a few words, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. You weren’t even sure what you’d say if you did. “He was great”? “He made me laugh”? None of it sounded right. It all sounded fake in your head.
The priest talked for a while about peace and love and moving on. You zoned out halfway through. You caught a few words here and there—“young,” “unexpected,” “loved”—but none of it stuck.
Someone tapped your shoulder gently. It was Khara, her eyes red, mascara running. “You okay?” she whispered.
You nodded once. “Yeah.”
She squeezed your hand before walking off to where Jisung stood by the exit. He gave you a small nod, but you didn’t have the energy to nod back.
When it was over, everyone started moving toward the doors, murmuring things like “I’m so sorry” and “If you need anything…” as they passed you.
You didn’t stand up until the room was almost empty. Hyunjin was still sitting next to you, staring at the floor.
“They’re going to close soon,” he said quietly.
You looked at the photo one more time. “I know.”
He stood and waited for you to move first. You finally did. People were still talking near the parking lot—small groups, fake smiles.
Hyunjin handed you a cup of coffee he must’ve grabbed from somewhere. It was warm, too sweet, but you took it anyway.
“You didn’t have to come,” you said after a long silence.
“I know,” he replied. “But I wanted to.”
You didn’t look at him. “Everyone keeps saying that.”
He gave a short laugh, not mocking—just real. “Yeah, but I mean it.”
You took a sip of coffee, even though it burned your tongue a little. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now.”
He shrugged. “Nothing, probably. That’s what people do after stuff like this.”
That made you snort, quietly. “You make it sound so easy.”
He glanced at you. “It’s not. But I’m here, okay?”
You didn’t answer. You just stared at the ground, watching the leaves get caught in little gusts of wind.
The funeral staff started moving flowers inside, preparing to close up. Hyunjin nudged your arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”
You hesitated, then nodded.
Neither of you talked much on the walk back to the car.
You watched the city pass by through the window—people walking dogs, stores still open, kids laughing. It felt weird, seeing life keep moving like nothing happened.
Hyunjin parked outside your building but didn’t unlock the doors right away. “You want to be alone?” he asked.
You stared out the windshield. “I don’t know.”
He waited a beat, then nodded like he understood anyway. “I’ll stay for a bit.”
You didn’t argue. You just said, “Okay.”
He followed you upstairs, shoes squeaking faintly against the floor. You froze in the doorway for a second before Hyunjin gently nudged you inside.
“Sit down,” he said quietly, tossing his jacket on the couch. “I’ll make tea or something.”
You sank onto the couch without a word, staring at the floor until the kettle started to whistle. When he handed you the mug, your hands shook just enough for him to notice. He sat next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed.
Neither of you said anything for a while. The only sound was the hum of the fridge and the faint buzz of a car outside.
Finally, he spoke. “You don’t have to act fine, you know.”
You scoffed lightly. “What else am I supposed to do? Break down in front of people?”
He looked at you then, eyes calm, not pitying. “No. Just… don’t fake it with me.”
You didn’t answer right away. You took another sip of tea, staring into the cup like it held some kind of answer.
The months after the funeral moved slowly. Not painfully, not every day, just… slow. Some nights, the group would meet just to make sure nobody disappeared into themselves. No plans, no schedule—someone would text, someone else would show up with snacks or a bottle of something cheap, and by the end of the night, everyone would be there.
Tonight, that meant Hyunjin’s apartment. Khara and Lynn were on the couch, whispering and laughing quietly. Alec was on the armchair, scrolling on his pjone, Jisung and Seungmin were by the counter, debating something about a song or a joke no one else quite understood.
You sat on the floor with a pillow in your lap, listening. Hyunjin leaned against the window frame scrolling on his phone, watching the group more than participating.
“You’re terrible at this game,” Seungmin said, glaring down at Jisung.
“I know I’m terrible,” Jisung shot back. “I just like being competitive.”
“You like losing,” Seungmin corrected, voice dripping with amusement.
“Whatever,” Jisung said, grinning. “You just haven’t met your match yet.”
Khara rolled her eyes and nudged Jisung. “Can we not fight for five minutes? Some of us are trying to hear Lynn actually explain her weird plan for tomorrow.”
“Plan?” Alec muttered, half-asleep.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lynn said with a smirk. “It involves strategy and snacks.”
You laughed quietly and shook your head, sinking a little further into the pillow.
Hours passed. Khara leaned back, resting her head against Lynn’s shoulder, and Jisung was still debating with Seungmin, both of them laughing now more than arguing. Alec had dozed off entirely, murmuring something when Lynn tried to poke him awake.
Eventually, people started leaving. Khara and Jisung went first, whispering about beating the early traffic even though the city was quiet. Alec yawned and stretched before Lynn helped him gather his things.
That left just you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin.
Seungmin scrolled on his phone, half-pretending to ignore you. You tossed a cushion his way.
“Go home, grandpa,” you said, smirking.
He raised an eyebrow. “And leave you alone with all this existential sadness? Not a chance.”
“I’m fine,” you said.
“You were fine two hours ago,” he said. “Now you’re just sitting there like someone hit the pause button on your life.”
“Very dramatic,” you muttered, but there was a small smile behind it.
“You’re lucky I’m here to comment on it,” Seungmin said, scrolling again. “Otherwise, we’d never know how slowly your soul is moving through the evening.”
You leaned back against the wall, rolling your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re too quiet,” he said. “Quiet doesn’t suit you.”
Hyunjin finally spoke, voice low, cutting through the playful banter. “She’s fine.”
Seungmin glanced at him. “She’s fine according to Hyunjin. That’s always reassuring.”
Hyunjin just shrugged, looking back at the window, and you let your head fall back against the wall.
“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” Hyunjin said after a while.
You tilted your head. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. You can stay in the guest room,” he said, casual but firm.
You hesitated, thinking about the apartment, the quiet, the way he seemed to notice everything without trying. Finally, you nodded.
He handed you a folded set of pajamas. “These should fit,” he said.
“Thanks,” you murmured, taking them and heading to the bathroom.
When you came back, he was still there, leaning against the doorframe. “Good night,” he said quietly.
“Good night, Hyunjin,” you replied softly, feeling the way his presence seemed to linger around you.
He didn’t say anything else. Just switched off the hallway light and walked away.
You climbed into bed, the sheets clean, the room warm in a way that made it hard to think about anything else. You stared at the ceiling, letting yourself be alone but not lonely, until sleep finally came.
After that night, you found yourself thinking about Hyunjin more than you wanted to.
The next day dragged on and you ended up staying at his place after everyone left again—no plans, no big talk, just the usual quiet hanging out.
The TV played something neither of you were paying attention to. You were curled up on one end of the couch, legs tucked under you.
Hyunjin sat beside you, one arm resting on the back of the couch.
You could feel his eyes on you. Not in a creepy way, just… focused. Like he was trying to read you.
“What?” you said after a while, eyes still on the TV.
He blinked. “Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
He hesitated, the kind that usually meant he was choosing his words. “You’ve been quiet lately. Just wanted to check if you’re okay.”
You exhaled softly. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
He nodded but didn’t really buy it. His gaze stayed fixed for a second longer. You could feel it even without looking.
You turned toward him slightly. “Hyun, seriously. I’m fine.”
“I know,” he said. “I just hate seeing you like this.”
You looked at him properly this time. He looked tired too, but there was something else—something you couldn’t place.
Then, quietly, he said, “He didn’t deserve you.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Zac.” His voice was calm, almost too calm. “He didn’t treat you right. He made you wait around for him, made you feel small. You didn’t deserve that.”
Your throat tightened. “Hyunjin…”
He looked at you then—really looked—and said, “You deserve someone who actually sees you.”
Before you could say anything, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t harsh or rushed, just sudden enough to make your brain stall. For a second, you froze—then pushed him away, breath uneven.
“Hyun, what the hell?” Your voice came out shaky. “My boyfriend died. I can’t—what are you doing?”
He didn’t move, just stared, chest rising fast. “I did it for you.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I did it for you,” he repeated, quieter now but steady. “He wasn’t good for you. You couldn’t even see it. I had to do something.”
You took a step back. “What are you talking about?”
He tilted his head, confused like you were missing something obvious. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I just… wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me?” The words came out small, almost breaking.
He stepped closer, hand reaching out. He caught your arm—not rough, but firm. His eyes softened, like he really believed what he was saying.
“Everything I did,” he said quietly. “I did because I love you.”
You froze. “Hyunjin, let go.”
He didn’t right away. His grip tightened slightly, desperate more than forceful. “You don’t understand. You were supposed to see that I’d do anything for you.”
Your stomach dropped. “You killed him.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The silence filled in what words couldn’t.
You yanked your arm free, stumbling back. “Don’t come near me.”
“Y/n—”
But you didn’t wait to hear the rest. You grabbed your bag, ran for the door, the sound of his voice following you out.
By the time you reached the street, your heart was pounding so hard it made you dizzy. The air outside was cold, sharp against your skin. You looked back once—he wasn’t there.
Your phone buzzed in your hand. You didn’t want to check it, but you did.
The message on the screen read:
You don’t have to be scared of me.
You didn’t stop running until you were halfway across town. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, but it didn’t matter. All you cared about was getting somewhere that felt safe. Somewhere that wasn’t him.
By the time you reached Jisung and Khara’s place, your hands were raw from knocking. Jisung opened the door, his hair sticking up, eyes half-closed.
“Y/n? What—”
“Can I stay here tonight?” you interrupted, catching your breath.
He didn’t hesitate. He just stepped aside. Khara appeared a moment later, rubbing her eyes, a blanket draped over her shoulders.
“What happened?” she asked, voice gentle but curious.
You forced a laugh, though it came out strained. “Some guy followed me after I left Hyunjin’s. He got too close and tried to touch me. I freaked out and ran here.”
Her face softened immediately. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you said, trying to make it sound convincing. “Just shaken up.”
She pulled you into a hug. For a moment, the room felt quieter than usual, and your chest unclenched slightly.
“Stay as long as you need,” Jisung said, grabbing a blanket off the couch. “Guest room’s ready, or the couch—your choice.”
You nodded and sank into the couch cushions, letting the warmth settle around you. You muttered a small thank you as they retreated to their rooms.
Your phone buzzed. You ignored it. You already knew who it was.
You set it face down on the coffee table, staring at the ceiling. Your mind tried to sort itself out, but it wouldn’t. The kiss, the way his voice cracked when he said he cared, the way his hand had trembled… all of it replayed like a scene you weren’t ready for.
You weren’t supposed to feel anything. He was your friend. He should still be your friend. And a part of you didn’t want to ruin that.
The days after that night were tense. Hyunjin kept his distance physically, but you caught him looking at you more than once. His eyes on you a little too long when he thought you weren’t noticing.
The others noticed too. Seungmin asked if you’d fought with him. Lynn tried to joke around, but her smiles were thin, too careful. You brushed it off, said nothing, and kept yourself.
One evening, you were walking home from a grocery run, juggling two bags that felt heavier than they should. The straps dug into your fingers, and you cursed under your breath as you tried to balance them.
A few steps behind you, there were the faintest footsteps. You heard a soft, familiar voice say, “Here, let me take one of those.”
Hyunjin caught up without waiting for an answer, slipping one of the bags from your grip. You let him, relaxing your shoulders a littke.
“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to sound casual. “I didn’t ask you to…”
“I know,” he said, falling into step beside you. “Figured I’d help anyway.”
Neither of you said much. Occasionally, you adjusted your pace to match his. Your steps weren’t rushed, but the silence stretched, and it wasn’t uncomfortable.
When you reached the door to your building, you fumbled with the keys, "thanks for walking with me,” you muttered again, keeping your eyes on the lock.
He didn’t move.
“Y/n.”
The firmness in his voice made you stop mid-turn. Your hand froze on the key. “We need to talk,” he said.
You wanted to say no, to pretend it wasn’t happening, but you knew it wasn’t that simple.
“Okay,” you whispered, barely audible.
The door closed behind you, and the air inside felt heavier, thick with all the things neither of you had said. He set the bags down, letting them fall to the floor with a thud.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I messed up. I know that.”
You kept your gaze on the floor. “I didn’t…”
The words didn’t come. You weren’t ready to admit that a part of you had wanted it, had maybe even expected it, despite everything.
He stepped closer, “I like you,” he said, not loud, but enough to shake the space between you. “I messed up, but it’s because I care. Because I do.”
Your head snapped up. “Hyun… stop,” you said.
He didn’t stop. His fingers brushed your cheek and a shiver ran down your spine. “I wanted to protect you,” he said. “From anyone who would hurt you. Even me.”
Your chest tightened. “Protect me from what?”
“From everything,” he said, thumb tracing your jaw slowly. “From anyone who would hurt you, even myself.”
You shook your head, trying to find a reason. “We can’t. This isn’t right.”
He leaned in, forehead pressing lightly against yours. “It doesn’t have to be right. It just has to be us.”
He kissed you again, and this time, you didn’t push him away. You let yourself feel it.
You pulled back just enough to breathe. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything.
“I don’t even know what this means,” you said quietly, looking down.
“It means I care,” he said simply. "And I’m not going anywhere, even if you want me to.”
You stared at him, trying to process the words, the feeling, the fact that everything had changed so fast. “I… I don’t know if I can—”
“You don’t have to know right now,” he interrupted gently. “Just… let me stay with you tonight. That’s all I’m asking.”
You nodded, barely moving your lips. “Okay.”
Next thing you know, you're in your bedroom on your bed, his body towering over yours.
He kissed you hard, bruising your lips, and you moaned into his mouth.
He pulled away, and you looked up at him, flushed and panting.
He smiled darkly, and his hands found their way to your clothes, his fingers tracing the waistband of your jeans before unbuttoning them, peling them down your thighs along with your underwear. You were naked beneath him now.
His followed every inch of you, on the scars that marked your hips, the few freckles on your shoulders, the curve of your breasts. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, his fingers tracing the path his eyes took.
You squirmed under his touch, your pussy already wet and aching.
His palm slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing dangerously close to where you needed him most, but he didn’t give in. Not yet. Instead, he leaned down, ghosting his lips on the side of your thighs.
“You’re mine,” he whispered against your skin before his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide. You bit your lip, trembling as he dipped his head lower, his tongue tracing a slow, wet path up your inner thigh.
He didn’t touch you. Not yet. Instead, his lips hovered just above your clit. It was driving you insane. “Beg for it,” he demanded.
You whimpered, your hips lifting off the bed instinctively, chasing his mouth. “Please,” you breathed. “Hyunjjn, please—”
He squeezed, his thumbs circling your nipples until they were hard peaks, the pleasure mixed pain making you gasp. “Please, Hyunjjn, I need you,” you cried.
“Not yet, pet,” he growled, his hand finally sliding down, finding your clit. He rubbed slow, torturous circles, just enough pressure to make your hips jerk. You were so close already, but he knew exactly how to keep you on the edg.
“You’re going to cum for me, but only when I say.” His fingers moved faster and you moaned, your pussy clenching around nothing. But just as you thought you’d cum, he pulled away, his smirk cruel as you whined in frustration.
“Such a needy little slut,” he taunted, fisting his hand in your hair. He pulled you up to your knees, his other hand unbuckling his pants. His cock sprang free, already glistening with pre-cum. He shoved it against your lips, his grip on your hair tightening. “Suck it,”
You obeyed without hesitation, wrapping your lips around his dick, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deep. His groan filled the room, his hips jerking forward as you sucked around his head. “Fuck, you’re so good at that,” he groaned.
You gagged as he thrusted deeper, your eyes watering, but you didn’t pull away. You took him because that’s what you wanted—the taste of him on your tongue, the way his breath hitched when you hollowed your cheeks just right.
"Not yet, I want to cum in that pretty pussy,” he smirked, pushing you back down onto the bed.
He spread your legs wide, his eyes lingering on your wet folds before he leaned down, his tongue flicking over your clit in one long, slow lick.
He fingers slid inside you, fucking you while his mouth worked your clit. You were so close, “please, please—” you begged, but he just smiled on your clit, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot.
The movement brought you closer to your orgasm, and he could tell—with one final lick, you finally came and he sucked you through it.
“Such a tease,” you panted, but he just laughed, gripping your hips as he positioned himself at your entrance.
The head of his cock pressed against your pussy. "Ready for my cock, baby?” he asked.
You nodded frantically, and with one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you. You screamed, the stretch burning in the best way. His cock was filling you completely. He didn’t give you time to adjust, just started thrusting into you, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision.
Your breasts bounced with the force of it, your moans filling the room with the wet sounds of your pussy taking his cock.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his thrusts deepening, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl.
You were so close but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out. "Not like this,” he murmured, reaching for the nightstand. The shine of metal caught your eye—a knife.
Your breath stoped as he traced the edge along your skin, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine despite the heat of the moment.
“Trust me?” he asked, locking his eyes on yours.
You nodded because you did—ironic. You trusted him with everything—your body, your pleasure, your pain. He pressed the blade to your inner thigh, sharp but not breaking the skin, the threat of it making your pussy clench around nothing. “Cum for me,” he commanded, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast and hard.
You screamed his name, your body shaking— clawing at the sheets as you rode it out, your thighs were trembling around his hand.
The hand on the kinfe didn't stop where it was— he traced it up to your stomach, just moving. slowly, he moved it to your chest, watching your nipples harden with contact.
He smirked, watching you with satisfaction before setting the knife aside, his touch turning gentle as he pulled you into his arms.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips pressing soft kisses to your hair, his voice an obvious difference to the filth he’d just put you through. He lay beside you tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers. “You’re mine,” he repeated, kissing your forehead.
You pulled away, needing air. His hand caught your wrist before you could stand. “Where are you going?” His voice was low, sharp enough to stop you cold.
“I just need a minute,” you said, not daring to meet his eyes.
He let go, but only just. His hand hovered near your hip like a shadow that didn’t want to fade.
“You know I did it for you,” he said finally, quiet but steady. “He wasn’t good for you. He never saw you the way I do.”
You turned to him, angrier than you already were. “You don’t get to decide that! You didn’t even tell me how you felt, Hyun!”
His jaw tightened. “You would’ve stayed with him. You would’ve let him keep breaking you.”
“That wasn’t your call,” you snapped. “You took that choice away from me.”
"You woun't have begged for my cock like that if you didn't like me like that," he shot back, looking at you.
For a second, neither of you said anything. The air was heavy, like the room itself was waiting for someone to move first.
He reached out, his fingers brushing your face. You flinched back.
“Look at me,” he said, softer now but still commanding. “I’d do anything for you. Anything.”
You shook your head. “That’s not love, Hyunjin. That’s control.”
He laughed under his breath — not because it was funny, but because it hurt. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been trying to stop?”
“Then stop!” you shouted. “You can’t fix everything by deciding what’s best for me. You’re not saving me—you’re scaring me.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly. “I just… I can’t lose you too.”
You hated that it broke you a little. The sound of his voice—small, cracked, real—made something twist inside your chest.
He reached out again, slower this time, giving you time to move away. You didn’t. His hand brushed your cheek, searching for forgiveness he hadn’t earned.
“Don’t,” you whispered, but it came out weak.
He leaned closer until his forehead rested against yours. “I can’t undo what I did,” he murmured. “But I can promise you’ll never be hurt like that again.”
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to scream. You did neither.
Instead, you stayed still—frozen between anger and something that shouldn’t have still existed.
When his hand slid to the back of your neck, you didn’t stop him. You didn’t pull him closer either. You just breathed, the air thick with things you’d never be able to take back.
And when he kissed you, you kissed him back— not stopping until you were almost out of breath.
○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○
Taglist: @hanjifangirlie @stronglychanbiased @0omillo0 @enhacolor
(should I tag you next? 👀 just let me know)
