no brakes

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!about

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.

This is a one shot. There is no part two.

「© 2026, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚙𝚜𝚎

“Daddy, can we have Missha time today?”

If anybody point-blank asked, Chris would firmly deny it, but he was beyond glad the twins had developed an attachment to a certain marble cake and that they were still at a “chaperone required” age. The feline visits were the only excuse he had to knock on his neighbor’s door this frequently without feeling like he was perjuring himself under oath. 

SO WHAT if he was an anally cautious man? He had to make sure conditions were just right to ask a simple fucking question, yes, what about it?  

Do you wanna like… run into each other on purpose sometime?

CRINGE!

Nevertheless, surely you had better things to do than let his girls play with your cat like it was bootleg daycare, and he needed to fucking cool it before he prematurely wasted all his entry tickets to your house. He was hoping to secure a season pass one day, but it was still some ways away.

Well… If ever.

“Maybe some other time, okay, baby?” he refused sweetly. “We shouldn’t ask to come over so often.”

“But we love Missha’s mom,” Harper flashed her huge eyes for a stronger appeal. “She loves us, too.”

“She does, huh?” his lips curled involuntarily.

“Yes, but she loves us more than you,” Piper chimed in to back her sister up. “Deal with it, Daddy.”

“Yeah, deal with it, Daddy!”

“CADE! STOP TEACHING YOUR SISTERS HOW TO THROW SASS, IT’S THREE AGAINST ONE HERE!” Chris howled towards the makeshift intercom system of the stairs.

Unfortunately, the major bug in a devoted father’s operating system is the inability to say no to his kids. When the girls toggled to relentless whining mode with ample amounts of “Pleaaaaaase~”, Chris had no choice but to march his ass across the street, hoping he wouldn’t hear something along the lines of, “Brother, you have got to get a life since I very much have one.” He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, but instead of the homeowner, a good-looking bouncer in his late teens greeted him.

You weren’t kidding at all with that description, huh?

“I remember you,” the boy squinted. “You’re the dude across the street.”

“Right! You were looking for Missha that day,” Chris flashed a dimpled smile.

“How do you know my girl’s name?”

Uh oh…

Why the FUCK was he getting nervous like he was at the doorstep of his prom date, talking to her father?! This was a kid! He had one of these in this size himself!

Then Chris suddenly realized, in his handful of “attempts” so far, the other party had always been either single or had daughters. There was no one to perceive him as a threat. This was the very first time he was meeting the son of a… of a potential…

You know.

“She… had a collar. I’m the one who found her,” he extended his hand like an olive branch rather than a greeting. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Chris.”

“You’re damn right we haven’t, very attractive hunk man. I shall be known to you as Ryder the Grinder,” the boy narrowed his eyes even more, not even a little bit affected by the charming accent. “Are you here to see my mom?”

Chris wasn’t under oath, so it wouldn’t technically be perjury if he kept that overly passionate “HELL YEAH!” to himself, so…

“Uh… Yeah, is sh—?”

“You shall pass only if you can solve my riddles three, hunk man,” the bouncer declared his entry requirements.

“Of course,” the intruder respectfully bowed his head.

“You’re ripped,” Ryder scanned Chris’s body from head to toe. “Are you a looksmaxxer or something?”

“I don’t know what any of those words mean,” Chris stared at him blankly.

“I’m asking if you’re a gymbro.”

“Not… necessarily? I mostly work out in my garage,” he answered, stressed the fuck out like he was sitting for an oral defense exam. “And the beach, I guess. I teach surfing.”

“Can I use your equipment?”

“By all means!” Chris agreed in a heartbeat and continued exercising extreme caution. “Though if you don’t mind me saying, these weren’t riddles.”

“Silence! I’ll be the judge of that,” Ryder raised his hand, posture Gandalfesque. “Now, the most important question of all. Are you or are you not…” 

He leaned in super close, staring daggers at Chris with a threatening stance somewhere in between a girldad and a mafia boss, and let it rip.

“...a fuckboy?”

“RYDER, WHAT THE HELL?!” 

You yelled at the top of your lungs while descending the stairs whereas Chris started wheezing his lungs out, not at all as a taunt but because that was exactly what he would say if Cadence brought someone home to meet him one day.

In slightly different vocabulary, but the gist would remain fully intact.

“I’m a father of three girls, my good man, so no worries on that one,” he eased the overprotective bouncer’s mind.

“You’re still not answering my question.”

“I hate the entire human population between ages 5 and 18 on principle,” Chris submitted the response that he knew would get a passing grade. “You know how it is.”

“I’m watching you, hunk man,” Ryder pointed at him with peak intimidation, then kissed you on the cheek. “I’m off, Mom.”

“Don’t be late, or I’m watching the new season without you!” you yelled after your self-appointed bodyguard, then greeted Chris with a warm smile. “What’s up?”

And just like that, WHAT ARE WORDS?

Chris put his brain in aggressive overdrive, trying to remember what the hell he was there for. It had something to do with the twins, but why would he come to your house for the twins? Oh, okay. OKAY, the playdate. 

“The uh… T–The girls… They were um… wondering if… if they could have… Missha time today.”

“Anything that won’t have them asking for iPad time!” you enthusiastically responded, but your expression quickly morphed into regret as the bearer of bad news. “But unfortunately, I have to go to the store today.”

“Oh…”

Chris looked so disappointed as if you had just told him Christmas was cancelled, flashing you huge puppy eyes, and you suddenly felt horrible. You were trying really hard to find something to say to make him feel better, but your mind was entirely blank!

Meanwhile, Chris realized the silence had dragged on for too long, and he had to fill that fast.

“I mean, Y–YEAH OF COURSE!” he yelled out of nowhere. “I’m really sorry they keep asking. They’re just… They’re really fond of her.”

Seeing his dimples instantly loosened the death grip on your chest, and you awkwardly laughed. Luckily, the soft rubbing you felt against your ankles pulled you back to reality a little.

“No worries at all!” you vehemently reassured him, knowingly smiling. “I don’t think they’re the only fond ones, though.”

FUCK!!! 

Did he make it that obvious?! At least you didn’t seem entirely repulsed by the idea. Besides, you were the one who said the opportunity could hold onto some hope if it wanted, weren’t you? Well, guess what, the opportunity happened to be clawing at hope for dear life right now, and if this was his opening…

“I uh… I–I mean, I was wondering—”

“Right, girlie? You’re fond of them, too,” you picked Missha up. “Look, it’s your man.”

Chris’s heart dropped from his chest when he heard you say ‘your man’ to refer to him, his knees damn near giving way. Oh, this was bad. This was so bad, and if he couldn’t contain the aggressive endearment within him, he was going to punch a hole in your front door!

Thankfully, his spiral was successfully blocked by Missha reaching for him as if to say, “Hug me.” He let out a relieved sigh, holding the furball in his arms as delicately as he would hold a newborn.

“Hey, baby girl! Missed me?” 

If anybody point-blank asked, you would firmly deny it, but you were beyond glad that your marble cake had developed an attachment to a certain topless drummer because you were running out of believable excuses to knock on your neighbor’s door. One day, it was to ask for flour. Another day, it was to ask for a car jack. At some point, he was going to ask you if you were aware that a mall existed in town.

“We’ll wait for your invitation then,” Chris placed a little kiss on Missha’s tiny head, handing her back to you. “I’ll tell them not to insist.”

“WAIT!”

Missha rightfully hissed at you for temporarily deafening her. When Chris turned around and looked at you like that, your knees damn near gave way. Oh, this was bad. This was so bad, and if you couldn’t contain the aggressive heart eyes you had for him, you were going to latch onto his lips for the entire neighborhood to see!

“W–When I was babysitting the girls,” you shook your head to gather your thoughts and continued a bit more seriously, “they showed me their wardrobe.”

Chris’s shoulders drooped as he sighed in defeat, dragging himself to your doorstep again.

“Look, I know I’m not the best stylist, and I’m so sorry you had to see that clusterfuck,” he apologized for no reason. “Cade never comes shopping with us, and the store clerks always say whatever I pick looks great, EVEN when I assure them I will be buying stuff and just need an honest opinion. I mean, we always get the things the girls say they like, but… I mean…”

“NO, IT’S FINE! I didn’t mean it to come across as judgemental or anything,” you immediately held your hands up, assuming a defensive stance. “You should have seen what Ryder’s wardrobe looked like until he told me to back off. I just wanted to tell you that they told me they wanted skirts.”

“They did?” he nervously scoffed. 

“Is something the matter?” you tilted your head.

“I think you can understand why I need someone with me for this, and Cade’s not very uh… a girly girl. She’s never cared about clothes and stuff until she imposed a no-color rule on her wardrobe,” Chris confessed. “And she loathes going to the mall unless it’s for records and books, so…”

You barely held yourself back from smugly declaring, “Say less,” incredulous of your luck that it landed on your lap so easily. There could not be a more apt opportunity than this for your semi-ulterior motives!

“I… told the girls I would ask you to go shopping together,” you told him somewhat shyly, all but pressing your index fingers together. “IF you’d like, of course. I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh, I’d LOVE THAT! Do you wanna go today?”

As soon as he finished the sentence, Chris mentally punched himself as a reminder to practice the bare minimum impulse control. You had just told him you weren’t available today, and at this rate, he was going to earn a fucking restraining order, let alone a season pass!

“Oh, s–sorry, got a bit too excited that my misery was about to end,” he exhaled, exasperated with himself and internally yelling ‘GET IT THE FUCK TOGETHER!’. “You’re uh… You’re going to the store today.”

“That I own, yes,” you chuckled, tickled by his eagerness. “We can do some shopping, then I can show you guys my little shrine. You need to upgrade from Singing Giraffe anyway.”

“In that case, can I be your driver?”

SHUT UP???

Why, YES, he could be your driver. He could be whatever the heck he wanted, actually, as long as he was going to smile at you like that what the FUCK?!

“S–Sure,” you nervously giggled, then placed a big smooch on Missha’s tiny head. “Sorry, baby, I’m stealing your man today.”

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Chris was a fully monogamous man, and you were an evil woman getting him all excited at the prospect of fucking cheating! Yes, steal him. Steal him right now, and never give him back actually. 

Well, is it even cheating if the relationship is open, though?

“I’m sure she understands,” he reached to scratch under Missha’s chin. “She’s too independent to be tied down anyway, right?”

Only when your eyes met did you both realize just how close you were standing to each other. Your fond smiles instantly gave way to eyes widened in panic, and you simultaneously flinched as if you were electrocuted with impeccable comedic timing.

“I UH… I–I’LL TELL THE GIRLS THEN! MEET YOU OUT IN FIVE?” Chris screamed at your face.

“SURE!”

You slammed your door close and leaned against it with your heart beating in your throat, letting Missha run inside for her sixth nap of the day. Nervous out of your mind, you dashed to your bedroom to change as fast as you could, going through all the t-shirts you owned as if you were summoned for an impromptu date.

This was NOT a goddamn DATE, and you needed to GET IT THE FUCK TOGETHER! 

Walking to Chris’s driveway, however, your anxiousness started to evaporate, promptly replaced with overwhelming affection when you spotted two little rays of sunshine running towards you with open arms.

“WE’RE GETTING SKIRTS!!!” Harper yelled.

“Yes, you are, baby!” you hugged them both in each arm. “Tell me, what are your favorite colors?”

“Yellow!”

“Orange!”

“No wonder Cadence doesn’t prefer coming with you,” you cackled as you looked up at Chris.

You safely sat the girls in their carseats and settled down in the front, and as soon as Chris put the gear in drive…

The scene turned into FULL delulu fuel. 

FUCK this man for looking this attractive while driving, all laid back and legs spread out like a whore. His sleeveless shirt accenting those bulging biceps, lips shaped into a pout with peak focus, brows slightly creased like he was mad at something… 

Was this what he looked like when he was mad, and on a completely irrelevant note… did he get mad in the bedroom at all?

Focus!

You discreetly pinched your own thigh both to exorcise yourself of the horny and to snap your wits back, and once the unholy thoughts subsided, this time the scene turned into a wholesome kind of delulu fuel. It felt like you were on a road trip with your little family. Oldest kids sent to college to live their best lives, younger ones with you at home, allowing you to taste the joys of parenthood all over again with a rock to lean on this time.

OH MY GOD, FUCKING FOCUS!!!

Instead of the crowded mall, you had given Chris the address of a street filled with cute little boutiques, on which your store was also located, and what started with an innocent question of “Do you have skirts in yellow and orange?” 

…turned into an entire haul. 

Suddenly with all the time to kill in the world, you let the twins try on all the items they pointed at, mixing and matching everything from little sundresses to nightgowns, slippers, bathrobes, hair pins, shoes, pants, coats, you name it. Before you knew it, you had fashioned not one but two wardrobes, one for spring/summer and one for fall/winter. Despite Chris’s protests, you threw in a few print shirts and a pair of badass boots for Cadence, firmly stressing you weren’t going to be offended if she chose to return them. 

“Look who it is!”

And as you were trying to close the trunk of the car, a woman’s voice echoed behind you.

“Oh my god, hi!” 

You hugged her tightly, and it wasn’t long before she noticed the charming man standing next to you, silently waiting to be introduced. 

“This is Chris,” you pointed at him, then at your friend. “Lily and I were roommates in college. She teaches kindergarten now.”

“No way, I was looking into schools for my girls just yesterday!” Chris shook her hand, the ‘naur way’ making you giggle for no reason at all, then introduced the rays of sunshine curiously looking at the nice lady. “Harper and Piper. My daughters.”

“So nice to meet you! I’m Lily,” she immediately kneeled to be on their eye level, gently shaking their hands, then turned to Chris for a casual invitation. “We actually have an open house for parents today. Would you guys like to come? It’s just down the street.”

“HECK YEAH!” 

Chris’s abrupt enthusiasm was quick to die down when he met your gaze, flashing you the puppy eyes again, and it was becoming more and more obvious to you where the twins learned that trick from!

“I–I mean…Would it be okay if we went?”

“Of course!” you burst out laughing.

The entire way, you and Chris listened to Lily talk to the twins like they had become best friends over lunch, and watching how easily she was able to communicate with them, you were beaming with pride with a smile that said, “Yis, that is my friend.” The girls talked about Singing Giraffe, their Aquaman Daddy, their Batsister Cadie, and much to your heartache… 

Their angel mom. 

“You can’t see her because she’s invisible,” Piper continued. 

“Oh? So I can’t meet her?” Lily asked, pouting a little.

“You can when she comes back from protecting heaven,” Harper explained.

You almost fell to your knees with how hard your heart was wrenched. You needed something, anything to change the mood because a coat of mist had started invading Chris’s eyes, and it was killing you to see him like this.

“Aquaman? Batsister?” you gently nudged him with your elbow. “Is someone a bit too into comic books by any chance?” 

“Maybe,” Chris smiled after taking a deep breath, then asked as you followed Lily into the building. “Did Ryder go to this school, too?” 

“Oh hell yeah. This is like the family business of the Wilsons,” you answered him. “Lily’s mom taught Ryder, and that’s why my dude can’t shut up about dinosaurs.”

“Dinosaurs?” Chris furrowed his brows. “Let’s just skip the open house right now. They are going here, period.”

After leaving the girls in the care of the teachers in the playground, Lily gave you a personal tour of the grounds first, patiently answering every single question Chris had, then introduced you to the principal. The chat was a bit of a formality as Chris seemed to have already made up his mind about the school, greatly reassured by your reference, as well.

“Looks like the girls are having a great time here, so if you’d like a few hours to yourselves, you can leave them with me,” Lily offered, knowingly smiling at you. “I’m well aware couples don’t get much alone time when they have kids this age.”

NAUR WAY. 

Turns out, you weren’t the only one in delululand today, huh? 

You had no idea why the assumption rendered you completely mute. You knew you had to say something to correct the misunderstanding, but you just… couldn’t.

What’s worse, a part of you simply did not want to.

“Ac–Actually, we aren—”

“And you promise you won’t judge me if I take you up on that offer?” Chris immediately interjected, squinting.

“Off the record?” Lily leaned in, speaking quietly like she was letting you both in on a well-kept secret. “Brother, I have two kids of my own, and if my husband and I didn’t have mandatory date night once a week, we’d be divorced ages ago. Trust me on this.” 

“Summerland fucking rocks!” Chris cheered, not even noticing how much your flabbers were gasted. “Girls!”

The call was greeted with instant protests from the playground, perfectly executed with the heartstring-slasher pouts.

“DADDY, NO!”

“We don’t wanna go!”

“Do you want to keep playing?” Chris asked upon Lily’s ‘Told ya’ shrug.

“YES!”

“Then can I go play, too?”

“BYE, DADDY!”

“Unbelievable,” Chris scoffed and turned to you. “Mini Bieber walks in, and it’s like I don’t even exist!” 

“Aww, come on, it’s cute!” you broke into a massively endeared giggle fit.

“No one is good enough for my babies. I’ll see him in court,” he toggled to Dadzilla mode scarily fast.

“Just walk,” you softly pushed him from his back, and all of a sudden…

The delulu fuel struck back at full force because this did feel like a goddamn date!

Oh, you were so not getting it the fuck together…

Taking the deepest breaths of your life to calm yourself, you walked for a little while, just shooting the shit. Chris talked about a song he’d been working on and his passionate frustrations with finding rhymes for certain words. You talked about a few authors you’d been eyeing for a book signing and your hopelessness regarding how to convince them to come to a town this small. 

“So um… Since you’ve done such a great job with the girls,” Chris eventually broached the subject, “do you mind styling me?”

“Did you want skirts, too?” you smirked at him with ample amounts of mischief.

“Ha funnny,” he deadpanned. “All I have is tanks for summer and hoodies for winter. I don’t have anything else to wear for any other occasion.”

“What kind of occasion?”

“I don’t know. A date?” 

If you were sipping on a drink, it would be all over his stupid gorgeous face because…

Well…

“You… have a date coming up?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could manage.

“Not presently, but you can never be too prepared, yeah?” he stopped in front of a shop and pointed at the door with his thumb. “Just one store?”

“Alright, what should I be looking for?” you asked while crossing the threshold.

“Whatever you’d wanna see you date in.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and looked at him, your lips slightly parted, because how could you NOT? Was he…? Just messing with you, or…? Was this his indirect way of…?

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t elaborate further. No ‘I’m jaurking,’ or anything of the sort, either. He just stood there, one hand keeping the door open, and stared at you with a shit-eating grin. 

This motherfucker…

Exerting the effort of a lifetime to not spontaneously combust, you handed him a few picks and sent him to the changing room to hunt for more items. It wasn’t that you were suddenly super into fashion; you just needed to be away from him to regulate your heart rate to prevent untimely cardiac arrest.  

Which… wasn’t as helpful as you hoped for.

“I found a few shirts,” you approached the cabin a bit too carefully like your life was in danger. “Should I hang them on the door?”

“Um… actually can you get in here?” 

“W–WHY?!” you shrieked, unknowingly clutching the clothes in your hand.

“I think I’m stuck.”

The unexpected answer made you wheeze your lungs out, and with your nervousness melted away, you saw no problem fulfilling his request. You hung the clothes in the rack behind you and opened the door, which was a FUCKING MISTAKE! 

Your laughter abruptly stopped like you had swallowed it whole. Well, naturally, because you were expecting to see something of comical nature. 

NOT what could only be described as soft porn!

Hottest fucking thing you ever witnessed with your own two eyes. GORGEOUS physique out in the open, and it was such a ridiculously effective stimulant that you could literally feel it between your legs even though he was only fucking you in your head. The amount of restraint it took not to lick those abs… The iron-cast willpower it took not to close that door right behind you… And as if that wasn’t enough, bro went ahead and inked his fucking COLLARBONES? 

You couldn’t remember a single time someone had awakened such intense urges within you, but it was clear that you needed to upgrade your… self-care collection as soon as possible. Just the thought of experiencing these feelings every time you saw Chris was absolutely mortifying, and you had to get whatever this was out of your system fast.

You violently shook your head to snap out of it, laser-focused on the area from neck up, and carefully moved his arms to free him from the fabric trap.

“No tight-fit shirts for you without buttons,” you attempted a half-joke. “Duly noted.”

It was nothing short of sleep paralysis. You knew you were supposed to take a step outside, but you couldn’t move. You just could not move! 

And someone seemed to be getting a kick out of it.

“See something you like?” Chris cheesed, enjoying the way you were staring at his broad chest a bit too much.

“NO?” 

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“T–Telling you?”

When he broke into those giggles, you did want to slap the shit out of him, which had to be a good sign that you were coming back to your senses.

“If the view is nice, you can tell me, you know,” he held up the too-tight-to-handle shirt. “I could use a compliment after this fiasco.”

Compliment, huh? He wanted a compliment? So, what, like you were supposed to tell him you would totally ride those abs? That he must feel rock hard to the touch? That you kinda wanted to know what his body weight would feel like on you? That you had a bit of a thing marking hickeys on a partner and his skin looked like he bruised easily? 

Was that what he wanted to hear?!

“I mean,” you mumbled under your breath and averted your eyes, quickly grabbing the shirt before bolting out of there. “I would throw my bra at that.”

Having the time of his life and content with your picks for him, Chris didn’t insist on doing more shopping, and you finally made it to the bookstore. As soon as he entered, he looked around with complete fascination in his eyes, unable to stop smiling.

“Do you have any historical romance books here?” he asked out of nowhere.

“Y–You read… historical romance books?” you widened your eyes, utterly appalled. 

“Cade loves them.” 

“Seriously?” you inadvertently let slip, immediately covering your mouth. “Shit, I–I’m so sorry. That sounded so presumptuous!” 

“Oh, presumpt away. Five years ago, her Christmas wish was the entire Goosebumps set, and she has a shrine dedicated to Stephen King, so…” he confirmed your sophisticated guess. “She’s very analog. If you have any recommendations, I’d love to get her a few.”

“Do you know what she already has?”

“Not by heart, but I think I’ll remember when I see the titles.”

“‘Sup, boss?”

A college-age boy appeared from behind the shelves with a large box in his hand, making his way to you. 

“Well, today is your lucky day because I actually have an expert on site,” you spoke to Chris, then turned to the boy. “Hey, Oliver. Anything to report?”

“One tasteless incident of— FUCK, YOU’RE CHRIS BANG!”

“Uh… Hi,” Chris greeted the freaked-out guy.

“Dude, we cover your band’s songs all the time!” 

“NO WAY!” 

Maybe it was the ‘naur way’ or maybe it wasn’t, but something in your chest was tickling you so much you couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Chris has a daughter who is very into historical romance,” you informed your right hand. “Anything in the Dracula avenue, you show him.” 

“I got just what you need. Follow me,” Oliver took the lead to the romance shelf, still hardcore fanboying. “I canNOT believe it’s really YOU!” 

While you took care of some business, Oliver and Chris basically combed through the entire store and returned to the cash register with two big stacks in their arms, including upgrades for Singing Giraffe. You and Chris started sparring in the form of credit card aikido, where you adamantly refused to accept payment from him whereas he did not take no for an answer, claiming it was compensation for your styling services today. 

And Oliver was a big help watching the whole thing from the sidelines with a huge grin on his face.

When you were finally done with work, you left the store, picked up the exhausted twins beaming with happiness, and returned home. As soon as they saw the shopping bags, they perked up in the blink of an eye, running to their rooms to try on their new clothes. 

“Thank you so much for today,” Chris expressed his heartfelt gratitude with extra deepened dimples.

“Anytime! I haven’t had this much fun in a hot minute.”

The silence was dragging on for too long again, and Chris had to fill that fast. 

The conditions seemed… just right this time. A great day was had, pleasant fatigue was in the air, and there was also the changing room incident, which was a very welcome surprise to him. You didn’t seem… terribly bored to spend time with them. 

Was this the time to ask? It was time, right?

“Listen, um…” he intently stared at his shoes. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

He was kidding to himself earlier that day, but why the FUCK was he getting nervous like he was actually about to ask you to prom?! He was a grown man! Who wanted to spend some time with an equally grown woman!

He mustered all the courage he possibly could, and finally fucking went for it.

“Do you wann—?”

“CADENCE, WAIT!”

You both turned your heads towards the concerned voice of Ryder and watched Cadence storm into the house crying, Chris immediately running after her. Ryder looked distraught, but also totally guilty of something. Your brows started creasing, and you could feel something boiling hot rising from the pit of your stomach as you stared daggers at your son. 

“What did you do?” you calmly asked him. 

“It’s nothing. I w—”

“What the FUCK did you do?!”

The explosion scared him a bit as he rarely saw you like that, but Ryder didn’t even have it in him to protest. 

“Today was the auction results. Emotions ran high. I…” he started explaining himself, unable to look you in the eye. “I said something in the heat of the moment and—”

“Say it.”

“Mom, please…”

“If you could throw the words so casually at her, you’re gonna say it to my face. Say it.”

It was so obvious he knew he messed up, and you didn’t particularly enjoy confronting your son like that, but in your defense, there had never been an instance that you had to. His shenanigans with his friends were one thing, but this was NOT one of his boys in question.

“I called her a ghoul that reeks of death.”

Hearing those words felt like Ryder poured molten lava all over you and didn’t even blink. You could not believe your own son was even capable of uttering something so despicable out loud. It was as if the entire world went mute, and the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat in your ears, feeling yourself descend into a full spiral. This was your fault, wasn’t it? You didn’t raise him right. You had never been enough. Maybe if he had a father, this would have never happened. Tears were filling your eyes to the brim, and your brain was going numb.

You weren’t a violent person by any means. If anything, Ryder’s number one complaint about you was that you loved hugs a bit too much.

But that didn’t mean the occasional pinch on the arm was off the table for moments of massive fuckups.

“Ow!”

“Was it worth it, huh?” you spat through your teeth. “Was it worth hurting her over a goddamn TOY?!”

You grabbed him by his hand and dragged him to Chris’s front door, knocking on it hard like you wanted to break it down. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he didn’t open it, but thanks to whatever country you saved in your previous life, he did, the frown on his face painfully telling of how upset he was.

“HI! This is my dumbass son, and he would like to say something,” you flashed a psychotic smile at Chris, then nudged Ryder forward with a death glare. “Do it.”

“I’m really really sorry, Cadence,” Ryder didn’t even hesitate as he addressed Cadence sitting on the couch inside, hugging a pillow. “I–I didn’t know that your—”

“No, you didn’t,” she interjected with a trembling voice. 

“I SWEAR on my mother and Missha I didn’t mean anything by it. I know it’s not an excuse, but I only use that kind of language around my best friends. Ask Mom! She knows how bad the boys and I bash each other!” he continued his fervent begging, then suddenly slowed down. “For a second, I… completely forgot you don’t… roll with me like that.”

All eyes turned to Cadence, waiting with bated breath as to how she was going to react. And much to no one’s expectation, especially Ryder’s, she got up to her feet and slowly walked to the door.

“We’re…” she relaxed her scowl, surprised despite her apparent anguish. “We’re friends?”

“Of course we are. Wasn’t it obvious?” Ryder faintly smiled, holding onto the tiniest bit of hope. “Why else would I get that vicious when I was basically raised in Gentleman Camp? MOM, STOP PINCHING!”

“Save your snark,” you hissed at him. 

Cadence didn’t say anything else and left, leaving Ryder to sigh in her wake with drooped shoulders.

“I understand if neither of you ever wants to see me again, but please know I feel horrible about it,” he apologized to Chris this time, bowing his head in regret. “I’m truly sorry.”

You dared look at Chris despite your embarrassment, realizing he was looking back at you. It sucked so much that you didn’t know what the right thing to do or say was here because it felt like you were the one hurting him, which you technically did, no matter how indirectly.

“I will NOT be this calm if I hear you hurt my baby again, hunk man junior,” Chris spoke flatly, though clearly ticked, “but if you’re really sincere with your apology, I’d better see you make an effort to make things right.”

Ryder nodded solemnly and asked to go for a walk to clear his head. And while you were on the verge of grounding him, you couldn’t find it in you to say no for how genuinely apologetic he seemed. You silently gave him permission with a nod, finally accepting there would never come a day you’d finally go, “This is it, and I’ve seen everything,” for a mother. 

“Call me crazy, but I’m sensing some tension between the kids,” Chris uttered, watching Ryder walk away with his hands in his pockets.

“What was your first clue?” you turned to him with furrowed brows as if you were asking a genuine question. “I wholeheartedly apologize for his behavior. I thought I’d raised him better than this.”

Chris looked inside the house, then walked out to the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Listen, I know this isn’t the type of thing to ask for someone who’s almost a grown woman, but I’d really like it if Ryder and Cade got along,” he voiced his heartfelt request. “She has the confidence of gods, but she… can’t make friends easily.” 

Well, wouldn’t you know a thing or two about that? The black eyeliner wasn’t the only thing about Cadence that reminded you of your younger self. 

Something to get these two dummies closer, huh? But what?

“What are you guys doing this weekend?” you asked, a sudden lightbulb going off in your head.

“Nothing scheduled. Why?”

“Wanna take the whole family to the beach together?” you proposed with an up-to-no-good grin.

And after almost twenty years, this was the second time Chris was asked out by the woman he was falling in love with right before he could do it himself.

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