CB97💥

I just want to receive love.

Ask any survival show contestant why they want to become an idol, and that’s the bullshit they’ll feed you with a wholesome smile, which is the politically correct way of saying, “I want to be worshipped.” No one even judges them for it because new gods on the block will always be in demand.

Fresh meat and whatnot, you know.

The only catch is you’re no longer allowed to worship anyone if you have worshippers yourself. Have you ever seen a god who simps for her own devotees?

Please.

If you “make it”, there is only one law you have to abide by—stick to your meticulously crafted persona and be generous with fanservice, and almost a decade into his career, Hyunjin hasn’t had a problem with it. He does study the faces of his “regulars” before he goes into fancalls. He does flirt a little extra with them at fansigns, holding their hands a little longer, a little tighter, less tsun more dere, even sharing little intimate details of his private life only they are privy to.

Well, allegedly.

That’s the least he can do for his off-the-books sugar mamas, no? He is a part of a grand romance scam after all.

It doesn’t mean he’s never struggled with keeping up the act, of course. With all the things he has to suppress, all the things he cannot scream at certain entitled brats’ faces, some days he does come very very close to snapping. What’d you expect? He is trapped in a life he hates doing something he loves.

Which is why it’s Stockholm as fuck that he’s found distraction from his delulu dealer duties by completely leaning into it.

It’s not even guilty, just pure pleasure for him to browse through fan work. As if he needs any more reasons to inflate his behemoth of an ego… Over time, his fandom has become a point of pride with him—so much talent scratching his Stendhal itch just right. The origin point doesn’t matter; the end result is still solid fucking art. It’s like he’s the Beatrice to a thousand Dantes.

Maybe “Like artist, like fan” does have some merit to it.

The literature department of his counterfeit Renaissance cult is where things get a little more unhinged. Some of these people write him so vividly, so intensely sexy that if Hyunjin could fuck himself, he would. It’s kinda disappointing that there is a strict hush-hush rule about fan spaces, which forces him to pretend he doesn’t know what a Kinktober is. Otherwise, he would have loved to send some flowers, signed merch, fucking fan club membership as a thank you for all the nuts busted. When the average market value for life-changing orgasms is in three to four digits, a cup of coffee seems criminally low.

Is it still sex work if someone makes you cum without touching you at all?

Among the sea of creators he religiously follows, of course he has favorites, and whoever goes by zipcode10320 tops that chart. He finds the hardcore shipping fucking hilarious, but he actually respects the preferred method of worship. The thirst might be heavy, but unlike the bitches practically living outside his apartment, it’s at least from a non-suffocating distance.

From a... distance...

anonymous asked: what if hyunjin is deadass reading you lol

A decade-long career with a fake boyfriend side hustle. Five restraining orders. Three court appearances. Endless blacklists…

Hyunjin lived to see the day where it’s the distance that suffocates him.

He never thought one day he’d find himself on the other side of the fence like this. It’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t tell what it is about this person he’s so hung up on. He has a battalion of authors writing about him, so what’s so special about this one? Is it a style thing? Is it the subject matter? Why is he looking forward to the next character he’ll play like it’s the next season of his favorite show? Why is he getting this ticklish feeling for no reason whenever he scrolls through a new drop in his bed? It’s as if the words are laced with something because he only feels it when he reads.

But what the fuck IS IT that he’s feeling?!

zipcode10320 replied: im pretty sure he has a life 🤣 on the super off chance that he does tho, hi bby save me from my misery and swipe my v-card plz 💋

Huh…

Well, now he knows.

So it wasn’t for no reason that he turned into a shark—there was blood in the water, and it reeked of the proverbial innocence. So all that lustful longing you keep writing… All that unhinged sex you keep depicting…

Is that…? How you want to be…? By him?

It’s too late when he realizes his fascination with the “art” has turned into something else entirely, but he can’t stop it. He just can’t! It’s in his every waking thought that someone out there loves him just a few drops shy of unconditionally, wanting him with lust so carnal that the desire can no longer stay inside its shell. It jumps into a getaway car with words for engine and fucks right off, all gas no brakes, because it has to get to him as fast as it can. It has to exist in the same corporeal realm as Hyunjin so it can call out to him. It’s in his every waking thought that a god out there compulsively conjures little Hyuniverses, unable to contain the fond smile whenever they doodle his name on a surface, be it cellulose or binary codes.

Hyunjin as a psycho.

Hyunjin as a prince.

Hyunjin as a psycho prince.

Hyunjin as the meaning of life.

Hyunjin as the meaning of MY life.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin.

HYUNJIN!!!

anonymous asked: if he asks you to give your virginity to him ur ACTUALLY gonna say yes? zipcode10320 replied: who tf says no to hwang hyunjin fucking BET!!! anonymous asked: what if he’s a freak tho zipcode10320 replied: if the freak is me getting sandwiched between hyunchan i volunteer as tribute thank 😌 anonymous asked: what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol zipcode10320 replied: even IM not that delulu bro cmon

Well, maybe you should get on his delulu level because there is some freak that needs to be matched here. It’s okay if you can’t right from the get-go; he has all the time in the world for you. He can show you everything. How to match it. How to get him there. How he will get you there. Everything. Everything you can imagine, he will teach you with utmost care.

But he needs to complete a little self-assigned mission first.

He starts bringing his notebook to every single fan event to take notes of his interactions. Mannerisms, tone of voice, clothes worn that day, some word that sticks out to him… Whenever someone asks what he’s writing so fervently, his go-to excuse is, “Things that inspire me before I forget”. He does show a few actual snippets to cover his tracks, and luckily, all he gets in response is dreamy sighs and, “Oh my god, you’re like sooo romantic!” instead of suspicious looks.

It’s called a “bias” for a reason.

It doesn’t matter if your face doesn’t show in your posts. He has all your notifications on, so every fancall or concert video you share, every photo captioned with “They don’t know I’m zipcode10320” goes straight to his “data” folder where he compares his “field notes”. It doesn’t take too long for him to finally put a face to the name, and the satisfaction of victory weirdly feels like afterglow. He doesn’t smoke, but he craves a cigarette all of a sudden.

His fascination with you mutates into infatuation so fast, he might just blurt out a marriage proposal next time he sees you.

He keeps waiting for you to pick up what he’s putting down, but you seem a bit too insistent with that godforsaken “respect to his personal space” thing. What personal space? There is no personal space when it comes to the two of you; don’t you get it? You need to occupy the exact same space so he can be where he’s meant to be. As your very first. As your very last. So he can be your muse for the rest of your life. Can you even imagine the stories he’ll inspire you to tell if you spend just one night with him?

Don’t get it twisted, that’s just a figure of speech. He can’t and won’t settle for anything less than a couple of hundred nights with you. You know, to teach. So that the freak can match perfectly in the finale.

Unfortunately for him, the news of the iceberg arrives before he can finish packing for the maiden voyage, and for the first time ever, Hyunjin wishes he was blind so he wouldn’t be able to read your words.

zipcode10320 guys im this 🤏 close to ulting the shit out of chris hes been wrecking me left and right this comeback SEND HALP

Oh, you just… Oh, you fucking did not…

Really? That’s the extent of your loyalty? One whore goes Magic Mike, and all of a sudden you’re wrecked? Did the memories you shared mean jack shit to you? Weren’t you the one going on and on about him being your muse just YESTERDAY?!

Oh, you’re gonna get wrecked alright.

“Jiwon, do you have an NDA copy on hand?” Hyunjin addresses the driver in the front seat, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he opens his contacts and dials a number. “Turn the car around.”

“Where to, sir?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit.”

The car completes the U-turn after the third ringback tone, and a trollmeister voice answers the call on the other end.

“Yo, Hyunzales.”

“Where are you?”

“Fucking your girl in the backseat of my car.”

“I know you’re ragebaiting, but do you want to?”

The elongated silence on the line lets Hyunjin know that the hunter was successfully hunted. He softly chuckles to himself, amused by his triumph.

“Pussy got your tongue, motherfucker?”

“You’d actually give the fic girl to me?” Chris asks for good measure, his rabid giddiness spilling all over his voice.

“Calm the fuck down. No one said anything about giving you stuff,” Hyunjin sternly corrects. “I’m just inviting you to come play.”

“You’re the pettiest, most possessive man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing, and that includes the GOAT Joe Goldberg,” Chris starts a mini interrogation to do his due diligence. “If there is a chance for you to hit that yourself, how come you’re inviting me?”

“You fucking know why. I don’t trust myself,” he admits. “It’s not a random hookup. Bin’s hosting an opening ceremony tonight, and I want her there.”

“No fucking way…”

“Deadest of asses,” Hyunjin finally releases the death grip on his lips and lets them curl. “Meet me at his place if you’re interested. Otherwise, I’ll risk it all and go solo.”

“Race you there, fuckface.”

When the call disconnects, Hyunjin takes a deep breath to calm… his nerves? And well, his residual annoyance—he can’t be in that kinda headspace right now. He closes his eyes, and just the thought of your surprise is enough to put him in a good mood. He pulls up your profile again and presses play on the video from the concert two months ago, fondly smiling as he listens to you scream at the top of your lungs, “I’LL SIGN THE NDA, HYUNJIN, JUST ONE CHANCE!!!”

“Well, you said it yourself, beautiful,” he turns to his right, watching the nightlights pass by the tinted window. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

You blankly look at the man’s face for a solid ten seconds, unsure if you’ve heard it right, because there ain’t no way…

“Just to triple confirm,” you briefly squeeze your eyes close. “We’re talking about the performer Hwang Hyunjin, right?”

“Yes.”

“The art harlot Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Yes.”

“The Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Just assume every adjective you can think of is true, but if we could get to the matter at hand, please,” the man sighs, rapidly losing patience. “Mr. Hwang strongly wishes for your companionship tonight.”

cOmPaNiOnSh— What?

How would the man, the myth, the legend himself, the only baby daddy you’d be willing to accept, Hwang motherfucking Hyunjin even know you? This has to be a hidden camera prank or something!

As you suspiciously look the man up and down, however, you’re struggling to hold onto your prank theory. The weirdly familiar butler-henchman hybrid guy is clad in a crisp Dior suit, his nails are perfectly manicured, and his hair is so neatly coiffed that bro can walk a runway if he wants. Now you’re trying to logically explain why someone would send a man like this to locate you at this hour. Maybe if they are bored enough? But what entertainment can possibly come out of interrupting a plain mortal’s cocktail hour with their friends?

WHY would a Diorland resident want to locate YOU in the first place? There is literally NO possibility of your paths ever crossing!

“Wait, you’re in every single fansite picture when Hyunjin attends a public event,” Mina points at him, her face contorting with her revelation. “You’re Kim Jiwon, aren’t you?”

“I am,” the man acknowledges.

“How do you even know this guy?” you turn to Mina.

“Girl, even you know him,” she answers with a content smile. “He’s Hyunjin’s bodyguard.”

As you let out a long “Ohhh…”, it finally clicks in your mind why he seems so familiar. He pulls something out from the inside pocket of his blazer and clicks a silver pen.

“I’ve been told this was your own request,” he hands you an envelope containing a single sheet of paper. “You need to sign it before I can take you to him.”

There ain’t NO WAY…

You can see the words, but your brain refuses to process them. That’s it; you’ve been fangirling so hard that it has finally given you permanent brain damage, and now you’re hallucinating worse than ai. At least, that was how you were planning to plead insanity.

But the “OH MY GOD!”s raising from the table confirm that your friends can also see the title reads “Non-Disclosure Agreement”.

“Please don’t. This document contains sensitive information,” he snatches the paper from the prying eyes before they can commit it to memory, and points at the bottom. “If you won’t be signing it, please let me know right now, so I can relay it to Mr. Hwang. This is a time-sensitive issue.”

“T–Time-sensitive?!” you widen your eyes. “Can’t I at least tell my friends where I’m going so they know I’m safe?”

“No, you can’t, but I’m obligated to ensure your protection just as much as Mr. Hwang’s,” he indirectly informs the table. “This isn’t a job offer, so there is nothing to contemplate here. It’s just a promise that you will be discreet about the time you will be spending in Mr. Hwang’s company. Yes or no.”

Yet another “OH MY GOD!” erupts from the table, and by then, Jiwon is at his limit. Before he rescinds the invitation altogether, you lunge at the document telling you to shut the fuck up and sign it. You don’t have one logical answer as to how the Hwang Hyunjin knows you, or why he, quote, “strongly wishes for your companionship”. But the three Cosmopolitans in your bloodstream convince you that making shady deals in the middle of a restaurant is a great idea. And that you will regret it if you don’t go all in tonight.

Whatevs, if anything goes off the rails, you’ll just scream bloody murder, and his career will be over before he can spell “handwritten apology”.

“If I don’t send a thumbs up within 15 minutes, call the police,” you quietly scheme with Mina as you take your sweet time gathering your belongings. “If I do send a thumbs up, call a mortician because his sheer hotness will fucking kill me.”

You follow Jiwon to the valet area, barely registering that he’s just opened the door to a Rolls-Royce Phantom for you. It’s a true test of willpower not to yell “SHUT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK UP!” as you get into the disgustingly smug flex all over Hyunjin’s socials. So it’s true. It’s actually true. You are being taken to the only man ever. For whatever fucking reason…

WHO CARES?!

You make it to the mystery venue in just under five minutes. As he accompanies you to the elevator, Jiwon hands you what looks like a gold-plated card, instructing you to just swipe it to reach your intended destination. So you do. With a thousand butterflies in your stomach, and still only half-believing that you’re about to appear before His Majesty.

Once you get out of that cabin, you can only see one large door at the end of the hallway. A light breeze of music leaks into the carpet-clad corridor. The distance you need to walk suddenly seems like miles long, and the entire time, you keep repeating to yourself, “What am I doing? What am I doing? What the ACTUAL FUCK am I doing?!”, which is entirely pointless considering you’ve already made it this far. Might as well see what’s behind door number two.

Well, door number 4001, to be exact.

Standing in front of the heavy-looking oak, you take the deepest breath of your life and ring the doorbell, your group chat still open in your hand just in case. After a ten-second silence, it finally opens.

Your knees damn near give way when you make eye contact with your greeter.

“Hey, beautiful,” the only man ever leans against the door frame with that sultry smile you know too well. “Remember me?”

You quickly send a thumbs-up emoji to the group chat and shove the phone inside your bag, having no idea what to do with yourself. It’s him. The man who stuns you when he just breathes, the man who has sheer grace and absolute harlotry running in his veins instead of blood is right there smiling at you. It’s REALLY him!

It is really him, but something is not.

Every memory you have of him suddenly flashes before your eyes. Every “private” moment you were lucky enough to share, the handholding, the small talks about his personal work, the eggplant lasagna jokes… All were so soft, so comfortable, and it was like that by design. Even though he knew your name, you were fully aware that this man was at work. That “See? I remember intimate details about you because you’ve made a mark on me” shtick was the first line of his job description. These guys were probably handed a study pack full of attendee information before those events anyway.

But right this moment, not even a shred of the sentimental soft boi is present in his demeanor. Eyes darkened, pupils dilated, posture relaxed, cunningly smirking. The man standing at door number 4001 isn’t Hwang Hyunjin.

It’s the fucking DEVIL!

“Uh… I feel like I need to make sure, just in case,” you shake your head to snap out of it. “You are aware I’m not an escort, right?”

“Why would you even say that?” he furrows his brows.

“I signed a document that says you want my companionship for an opening ceremony tonight?”

He’s so amused, he starts laughing, and you die a little bit. That part is at least the same. When he laughs, your heart still goes into overdrive.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he answers.

“How do you… even know me?” you hesitantly ask, making sure your tone wouldn’t make him think you’re displeased by the invitation. “I couldn’t come up with one reason why you of all people would look for me.”

But the way his face falls, he must be offended. You panic, trying to find ways to explain yourself and what you really meant by that. That he is a god walking among mortals, that you’re one of the aforementioned mortals, and that it just doesn’t make any sense why he wouldn’t summon a fellow goddess instead.

“See, I’m a glass-half-full kind of man,” he speaks through a sigh as he slowly approaches, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Some might say your zip code starts with 103. I say it ends with 320.”

No.

No, there ain’t NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY…

How is that even POSSIBLE?! How many degrees of separation have you been from Hyunjin all this time? Does one of your followers just HAPPEN to know him somehow? Then what, did they just show him the fucking embarrassing amounts of delusion? Did he at least get a good laugh out of it?

Seems a bit too late to deactivate now…

“Well, you asked for it yourself, didn’t you?” he chortles, lifting your chin. “You signed the NDA. Now’s your one chance.”

How are you still not passing out?

Fuck the how, he knows. He knows about it all, and you have never been this mortified about something in your damn LIFE! Your shame brute-forces its way into the main control room of your brain and disables all your cognitive functions.

You can’t think of ONE thing to say to him!

“Unless… You’d rather it was someone else instead,” he cocks a brow at your silence. “Someone who’s been wrecking you recently?”

“I… I–I’m… I don’t…”

The door he left ajar behind him opens again, and another familiar face peeks out, flashing you a pair of heart-stopping dimples.

“Fucking hot,” Chris bites his lips, resting his chin on Hyunjin’s shoulder while staring at you. “Lucked out with this one, huh, Hyun?”

WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN GOING ON RIGHT NOW?

Where did he come from all of a sudden? What does it all mean? And why is this whole thing starting to feel like a fujoshi trap?!

“It’s just a party,” Hyunjin reassuringly smiles, caressing your cheek as if to calm you down. “We’ll hang out, talk, have a couple of drinks, that kinda thing.”

He holds your hand and presses his lips on your wrist for at least a solid five seconds, deeply inhaling your scent, then looks at you with dreamy eyes.

“But if the fancy strikes,” he steps aside, gently pushing you from your waist to lead you in, “we can always party a little harder.”

Incredulous that you are actually flanked by your very own OTP, you walk into the gigantic suite where the chatter of the crowd melts into the music. You recognize a lot of these faces because it’s crawling with idols inside, but the sight is the furthest thing from variety show cutesiness. Their claim holds up. It is a party.

They just forgot to tell you what kind.

The front end is “frat”. Two fandoms are amidst a vicious fanwar online, yet their “oppas” are heavily broing it out, all clearly intoxicated, laughing their asses off as two of the bunch are trying to do body shots off of each other.

Whereas the back end is “swinger”. Socials are filled with snark about who paved the way, yet the younger artists are busy teaching their seniors how to eat their pussies properly. No one cares that they are in the presence of a crowd—they are going at it.

“How’d you like the cesspit black hole of bubblegum pop?” Chris asks, plopping down next to you on the giant sectional by the window, and hands you a glass of vodka on the rocks. “Not giving ‘ending fairy’ at all, yeah?”

“You don’t say,” you raise your brows. “Feels like I passed through an underworld portal just now.”

“So…” Hyunjin flings an arm around your shoulder, comfortably spreading his legs. “You’re a shipper.”

Your drink almost comes out of your nose with panic-slash-fluster. THAT’S how he chooses to bring it up?!

“It’s just entertainment,” you play it cool, trying to choose your words carefully. “I don’t actually believe you are in a relationship.”

“Even when we live together?”

“That’s not proof of anything.”

“Even when we shower together?” Chris presses. “Stuck in hotel rooms together for months on tour…”

“Everybody knows that’s a convenience thing when you’re strapped for time,” you refute.

“But what if Hyunchan is real, and we’re laughing our asses off hiding in plain sight?” he looks you up and down, annoyingly smirking. “Post a picture of me giving him head right now, and haters will still say it’s fanservice.”

“Didn’t you see the pepero thing?” Hyunjin chimes in. “He’s the only one I almost made out with, and our parents were in the audience, mind you.”

Before you catch on goddamn fire, you have to force quit the fangirling and put your rational thinking into overdrive QUICK! What are they even after, having a weird ship conversation about themselves out of nowhere? It’s almost like they are trying to convince you it’s real, but even if they do, what’s going to possibly come out o—

Oh.

Oh, okay.

Okay, so it’s just a random jackpot thing. They saw your stuff, picked you as a target, and this is how they’re “getting even” by humiliating you to your face. Ha ha, very funny…

“Alright, message received,” you sigh in defeat, your mood suddenly bitter. “Do you want me to apologize in writing, or—?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not mad about that at all,” Hyunjin quickly interjects. “I canceled a porn subscription because of you. I goon to your stuff a lot.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP NO YOU FUCKING DO NOT!!!”

You scream at his face out of pure reflex, but everyone in the vicinity is so faded that no one even hears it. Well, except for Chris who folds in half howling with laughter.

“Ask him,” Hyunjin points at the yang to his yin extremely seriously. “What was I doing just last night?”

“I’m gonna be a gentleman and say he was reading the latest drop, but he changed his sheets at 2 a.m. Do the math,” Chris corroborates while wiping the tears from his eyes. “So yeah, can confirm he’s not mad. Mad horny, maybe”

“But…” Hyunjin snuggles up to you, speaking directly into your ear. “I am mad about something else.”

“W–What did I do?” you turn your head to face him, almost brushing against his lips.

“What is it about me that you don’t like anymore?” he asks with narrowed eyes.

“WHAT?!”

“It’s the haircut, isn’t it?” he tsks in disappointment. “You find it off-putting.”

“Absolutely not! Where did that even come from?!”

“Then how fucking come you’re wrecked so easily after all these years? I thought we had something.”

The course of the night is quite disorienting as it is. Then he goes ahead and says all that in a single breath, fire shooting out of his eyes as if you’ve cussed out the entire Hwang bloodline. He sounds more delulu than all fics in existence combined, yet he’s dead serious, legitimately demanding an answer from you.

You’re so dumbfounded, you can’t produce a single coherent thought!

“Fine,” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and shows you the screen. “Read it. Out loud.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

If you can get an ETA on when you can vanish, please, because the self-cringe of looking at your own blog is suf–fo–ca–ting! Nevertheless, it suddenly doesn’t seem entirely implausible to you that these two may indeed be dying laughing at the fanservice defenders. If you posted about this very moment right now, no one would ever believe you, either, would they?

Mad imagination, bro. 12/10 gooned. Have my reblog.

You sigh in exasperation, trying to dissociate from the fact that those are your own words on the screen, and start reading.

“Guys, I’m this cl—”

“No,” Hyunjin stops you with the tone of an insufferable director. “With feeling.”

Are you unknowingly auditioning for something, or…?

You try to remember what you were doing when you rabidly typed this nonsense and yeeted it into the void of the interwebs. Some teaser pictures had dropped, so it wasn’t even anything that deep. Just plain, good ol’ thirst for normal people, but treason-level betrayal by a certain kiwi’s insane biasing standards.

And nothing less than a recommittal blood oath will convince him of your loyalty, apparently.

“Guys, I’m this close to ulting the shit out of Chris. He’s…” you pause to chase some of the cringe with a sip of vodka. “He’s been wrecking me left and right this comeback.”

“I know, right?” Chris cheeses at you, then mimics Hyunjin’s earlier tone. “It’s the bench press thirst traps, isn’t it?”

“All of it,” Hyunjin demands. “Don’t stop at the best part now.”

Real talk? You’d rather endure the ship interrogation than this medieval-adjacent self-reflection moment. Maybe they used to make witches read their own fics aloud, too, who knows?

“Send help,” you punctuate your unhinged diary entry with an eye roll and hand him his phone back.

“Well then.”

He suddenly pulls you close from your waist, shifting you to straddle his lap. The sight must be a little too satisfying, the way his jaw drops watching you sit on your new throne, breathing heavily as he runs his hands up your waist.

“Help,” he brushes two fingers down your cleavage, “has arrived.” 

It doesn’t feel real at all. You’re so close to him that if you move forward just an inch, you can kiss him. In your absence, Chris moves right next to Hyunjin and starts lazily stroking your legs, smiling to himself as he watches goosebumps spread on your skin in slow motion.

“Be honest with me,” Hyunjin puts a hand on your cheek, pointing at Chris with a nod. “Do you wish it was him touching you instead?”

“That’s not what I meant when I said—”

“Look, I get why you might have slipped for a moment,” he interrupts, holding Chris’s face between his thumb and index fingers. “Just look at him. He’s so hot, fucking pisses me off sometimes.”

“Pisses you off, my ass,” Chris scoffs with a snort. “Tell that to your dick standing at attention every time I get out of the shower.”

“Not the time to air our dirty laundry,” Hyunjin turns off the black box, then turns to you. “But if you’re really sorry for abandoning me—”

“I didn’t abandon you!” you protest.

“You did, and it broke my heart,” he instantly denies your appeal, his expression somehow crestfallen and quietly enraged at the same time. “Or are you not sorry at all?”

“I am sorry for upsetting you, but not for abandoning you,” you respond. “Because I didn’t.”

“But you are sorry.”

“I am.”

“Then,” he slowly drags a strap of your dress down your shoulder, “show me how much.”

“T–There are people here,” you quickly grab his hand.

“Of course there are,” he purses his lips. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a ceremony.”

“Just what the hell is this ceremony for?” you crease your brows. “I haven’t seen one ribbon getting cut.”

“Just because they aren’t in your face doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” he responds with a grin. “You asked me to save you from your misery, remember?”

what if IM hyunjin and ur just giving me ideas lol

Your face changes when it finally starts to sink in.

You look around, and that’s when you see the room for the first time. There are clusters of people spread all over the place, each with a “focal point” amidst them. Depending on the kind of lens you have, you can claim they are being worshipped, pleasured, or entirely humiliated.

Only then does it dawn on you that the “opening ceremony”, at least the one held on this side of the room, is of you.

“Don’t avert your eyes,” Hyunjin holds your face with the kind of tenderness that does not belong to the salacious backdrop. “Look at me.”

And look, you do.

You see two men before you, their gaze somewhat soft but not because it bears any wholesome intent. It’s a tiger and a wolf sitting side by side, and the only reason they don’t snarl is not to spook the gazelle. Otherwise, you can see the drool pooling in their mouth. The intent doesn’t seem entirely nefarious, either, but you have lowered inhibitions and complete heart eyes for them, so… Not exactly the beacon of sound judgement.

When Hyunjin starts pulling you in, the remaining crumbs of sound judgement evacuate the building anyway.

“Kiss the lips you keep writing about,” he quietly demands.

Your life temporarily ends when he takes your lips within his. It’s not like your makeout scoreboard is completely blank, but you’ve never felt anything like this before. The man doesn’t kiss; he attempts to pour himself into your body, then permeate every single corner until he completely possesses you.

Divide and Hwangquer.

“Feeling a little neglected here,” Chris interrupts. “No kisses for me?”

That pout paired with the puppy eyes gives you a little cuteness aggression. You steal a glance from Hyunjin, trying to gauge how upset he’d be if you kissed Chris, but he beats you to it. He just knows you’ll prefer the “fanservice” over a stupid membership card anyway. Now he can thank you for all the sheets he ruined in a single installment.

He grabs Chris by the nape and fucking goes for it, showing you what you would have seen if he had finished that pepero to completion. It makes you wanna combust that their rhythm seems so memorized. It’s pure muscle memory. If these demons had a side hustle where they made out to entertain an audience, the entire community would find out the day they created an account. Not even the most devout “It’s fanservice!” supremacist can explain how two people can know each other’s hot spots this well if they haven’t found them firsthand.

FUCK, IT’S TRUE THEN?!

As Hyunjin languidly grinds against you, he unbuttons Chris’s pants and frees his cock, making him whimper when he wraps his long fingers around him. You can’t control the throb between your legs when you hear that sound, and of course Hyunjin notices, breaking into a diabolical smile.

He channels his attention to you again, this time meeting no resistance when he reaches for the strap of your dress. He takes the left side while Chris takes the right, both men savoring the fuck out of unwrapping the present they treated themselves to. The tiger and the wolf can no longer hide their intent, openly showing their teeth as they stare at your bare chest. As if they communicate with telepathy, each sucks on a nipple at the same time, the same way they make out with each other. Loud. Messy.

Wet.

When you run your fingers through his hair, Chris looks up and makes eye contact with you. He lets go of your nipple and reaches for your face, demanding his kiss. They both melt within your lips, but it’s like night and day. Hyunjin kisses like a Sunday morning—slow and lazy, deep sighs, soft touches because you have all the time in the world. Whereas Chris is like a quickie you know you shouldn’t have—fast and passionate, heavy breathing, firm gropes because you are strapped for time before you get busted.

But both set your body on fire just the same.

Hyunjin stops when he realizes there’s a makeout session going on over his head and starts kissing your neck, fondling everything he can reach. Shortly after, you feel a hand on your inner thighs caressing you. Then it moves up. More. A bit more. It makes you shudder when it reaches the dampened fabric gatekeeping your wetness.

“So, you’re saying,” Hyunjin unzips his pants and lets his cock hang, “if I dip my tongue in there, I’ll be the first ever to taste you?”

“Y–Yes,” you barely manage to answer, wits barely intact.

“You wouldn’t… lie to me, would you?” he squints with suspicion.

Then something you can’t quite explain happens.

Hyunjin looks the same, but his demeanor feels… sinister, almost. It’s like there is a very specific answer to his question, and if you can’t get it exactly right, there will be consequences. The problem is, you can’t tell if he’s roleplaying or if his personality is actually changing right before your eyes.

If the tiger snarls that loudly, obviously it will spook the gazelle.

“Of course not,” Chris intervenes with the wholesomest smile, his voice softer than cumulus clouds. “She would never do that to you.”

“She said she loved me, but it didn’t stop her from having eyes for you,” Hyunjin stares daggers at him. “How do I know she’s telling the truth this time?”

“Hyun, you’re scaring her.”

Hyunjin swiftly turns to you, and when you make eye contact, his rigid scowl suddenly disappears. He averts his eyes like he’s ashamed, but the pout doesn’t go anywhere.

It’s like you’re trying to communicate with a stubborn kid.

“If I hurt you so much,” you softly utter, tilting your head to look into his eyes, “would you like me to leave?”

He immediately grabs your hand like you’re going to vanish otherwise, his eyes widened like saucers. Chris giggles at his reaction and wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist behind him.

“You just loooove being a mega spoiled brat, don’t you?” he nibbles on Hyunjin’s earlobe, then flashes his mega reassuring dimples at you. “Asking for a kiss like a normal person is too pedestrian for our prince, so he has to make a scene.”

You thought he was fucking around when he said he was heartbroken earlier, but he looks it. You are so confused, and nothing makes sense to you, but a part of you feels weirdly privileged to witness whatever is going on.

“Come closer,” Chris invites you, placing open-mouth kisses on Hyunjin’s neck. “Let’s pacify him a bit.”

You hold Hyunjin’s hands and put them on your waist, then pull him into a kiss. As soon as your lips touch, he immediately starts melting, and you can feel his body go limp in your arms. He softly moans into you, one hand on your face, the other holding Chris’s hand behind him.

“Do you really love me?” he asks with a pout.

“I came here tonight because Mr. Hwang asked for me,” you affirm. “There was no mention of Chris.”

“Will you stop loving him then?”

“Will you?” you raise your brows, unwittingly laughing. “Don’t ask me for things you don’t have the balls to do.”

“Will you at least stop biasing him then?”

“What’s happening to you?” you smile through your creased brows, strangely endeared.

“Nothing, baby. It’s his dinner time, and he gets very groggy when he doesn’t eat,” Chris answers on his behalf, looking at you knowingly. “So you might wanna feed him now.”

Hyunjin doesn’t lose another second and gently pushes you to lie on your back, comfortably settling between your legs. He has zero patience left to take the teasing route, but still tries his best to hold it together and not rip your underwear off altogether.

“Oh, you so wanna shove it in there already, don’t you?” Chris chuckles, seeing Hyunjin practically drool at the amount of slick.

“Fucking look at this, my god,” Hyunjin bites his lips hard.

“Rock paper scissors?” Chris extends his hand.

“Oh, fuck you, I have bias privileges,” Hyunjin slaps it away. “Dibs on everything.”

“Yes, you do, but you will do my requests, right?

You kinda wanna slap Chris when Hyunjin stops two millimeters away from your pussy and looks up at him. It’s so strange that he seems to only listen to Chris and do everything he says with blind obedience, as if he doesn’t have a mind of his own.

Huh…

“What do you want?”

“How about you get her suuuper wet first,” Chris speaks, dragging Hyunjin’s lip down with his thumb, “then double cream her?”

They smirk at each other, and you almost die because WHAT EVEN IS THIS INSANE DYNAMIC?! They’ve done this before for sure; the correct question is JUST HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES?

“I’m just gonna borrow her a bit so I can cum faster, okay?” Chris gives a quick peck on Hyunjin’s lips. “She still only loves you.”

“I know,” Hyunjin tries to play it cool, but massively fails when he can’t help his smile.

“And I only love you, too.”

FUCK—THIS!!!

You suddenly forget where you are and what you’re about to do, barely stopping yourself from shedding happy tears, because what other proof do you need here, really?

fAnSeRvIcE, my ass!

“I guess it’s only fair that I warn you about this,” Hyunjin licks his lips with sheer hunger, spreading your legs wide.

“A–About what?”

“That no one’s gonna compare to me after tonight. You’ll live the rest of your life looking for me in everyone you fuck,” he smirks big. “So maybe don’t even bother fucking them in the first place.”

You inadvertently arch into him with a gasp when he finally graces you with that first lick, grabbing onto Chris lying by your side. It’s such an unfamiliar, brand-new feeling, and it spreads all over your body faster than a pandemic. So wet. So warm. Dangerously addictive. Unfathomable that someone could have this kind of appetite for you one day, but there you have it in technicolor. And out of all people it could possibly be, it’s Hwang Hyunjin.

The only man ever.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” you let slip unbeknownst to yourself.

“Mpf…”

You sink your fingers deeper into Chris when Hyunjin moans into your pussy. The vibrations feel so nice. It’s like an ‘achievement unlocked’ moment—when you talk to him, he reacts.

And he reacts good.

“Feels good, yeah? Now we’re gonna do the same with you,” Chris gets on his knees and presses his cock on your lips. “Open your mouth for me.”

You don’t exactly understand why, but you’re starting to relate to Hyunjin. For whatever reason, when Chris says something, you just do, no questions asked.

You take him into your mouth, but he doesn’t move for a while, just enjoying the sensation as he watches Hyunjin work wonders on your pussy. The man is gone, eating like he’s been starved to death, and when he realizes Chris is watching, he stops sucking, spreads your lips, and makes a complete show of flicking his tongue on your clit as fast as he can.

You’ve heard of chain reaction crashes before, but only now do you understand how they work. Hyunjin licks your soul out of you, you moan louder, and it somehow manifests itself within Chris’s body even though he’s fucking your face. It’s as if you’re just a vessel connecting the two lovers, and Hyunjin pleasures Chris through you.

If you can choose your own death, this is your preferred way to go.

“Oh, FUCK, sorry baby, borrowing your man for a bit,” Chris hurriedly pulls out and rushes to Hyunjin. “I’m about to explode. Fucking finish me!”

Hyunjin gets on his knees, fervently stroking Chris until he unloads a hefty load all over his cock. It’s unclear whether it’s Chris or you who’s about to pass out when he cums because you’ve never seen something this hot in your entire life.

“Do it now,” Chris flashes a fucked out smile. “Before it dries.”

Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and aligns himself with your entrance. As his precum mingles with Chris’s drops at the tip, you see the tiger has fully murderous intent now, groaning loudly even though he very very shallowly thrusts into you, only a knuckle deep. Literally just the tip, barely holding himself back from ramming himself into you with how deliciously slippery you are.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothes you when you flinch a bit. “I’ll be very gentle.”

“Why? I didn’t ask you to.”

The two men look at each other and flash the most evil smiles you’ve seen anyone flash.

“Jackpot,” Chris sinks his teeth into his lips.

“Lick her clit so she gets tighter around me,” Hyunjin demands, then looks deep into your eyes. “We’ll see how you like me now.”

“Ah, FUCK!”

You said it yourself. You said so many things yourself. How you were this obsessed with him. How you wanted him to break you in. How you wanted just one chance in exchange for an NDA. And now not to be gentle with you. You’re right, why should he? It’s not like you’re made of glass. You’re a big girl, you can take it.

He’s just complying with your wishes here.

“Your eyes are rolling back,” Hyunjin clenches his teeth, maniacally laughing. “Go ahead. Go ahead and fall back in love with me.”

All you can make is incoherent noises while he sinks into your deepest spots, Chris’s tongue gliding all over your clit. This is it. This is how you go certifiably insane, if not die altogether. Not even the worst fantasies your mind has ever conjured can compare to this, and in your heart of hearts, you know Hyunjin is right. No one’s gonna compare to him, to them, after this, and you have no idea how you’re supposed to go on with your life.

If only there was a way that… If only…

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, I’m about t— HYUNJIN!!!”

As you let out a sound you didn’t even know you were capable of making, both men pin you in your place, forcing you to just let the pleasure in. In all your years of self-pleasuring, you have never reached a high this surreal, tearing your soul from your body, and you just know that after tonight, you never will. Squeezing him to death within your walls, you shove Hyunjin into his atom-rearranging orgasm, and his load is so heavy that you can feel every single drop he shoots inside you.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin is so happy he got to be your first that he could die.

“Are you in love with me again?” he nuzzles against your neck once he comes back enough to be able to speak words.

“If I say yes, will you stop obsessing over this?”

“I’m not promising anything.”

You flash him the most fucked out smile. He smiles back. Your heart swells in your chest to the point of combustion when you see his dimples.

“Then no, I’m not,” you stroke his kiwi hair. “Try again.”

He’s not in the least bit offended. If anything, this is the closest he’s been to fansign Hyunjin the entire night, his chuckle making your heart go into overdrive.

“Now that the official ceremony is over,” Chris gets up and starts putting his clothes on, “let’s bounce.”

“Are you really gonna make us move right now?” Hyunjin whines.

“Of fucking course, I am!” Chris scowls, incredulous that Hyunjin would even dare say something like this. “I still need to fuck her, and all our toys are back home.”

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to make Hyunchan bias you.

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

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

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The door barely was shut good before you were kicking your shoes off and dropping your bags on the nearby couch. It was a day to say the least—work was irritating; too many questions, too many people, and whatever his name was was on his good bullshit again in your messages about wanting to take you out but has also made zero plans to actually do anything. 

You toss your boho braids into a messy bun while walking to your bedroom, digging through your drawers to find something to throw on around the house. “a quick shower, find me something to eat and then light that blunt.” you mumble to yourself going through your after work plans. “Orrrr, I could shower, smoke then eat?” you ponder out loud as you move to the bathroom turning the shower on, letting the steam fill the space around you. 

You make quick of undressing, taking a good look at yourself in the mirror; taking note of the dark circles around your eyes & just how tired you look. you shake your head and get in the shower letting the hot water soothe your aching muscles. 

Cause is it really a good shower if you aren’t basically boiling yourself? 

You finish up your routine with skin care and lotion yourself up before putting a big t-shirt and shorts on. Moving back to your room, you dig out your old stash box from the top of your closet. Opening it, you grab a pre-roll & a lighter. You light the blunt, inhaling deeply letting the smoke fill your lungs. Puffing your cheeks to hold the smoke for a second before slowly exhaling; blowing the smoke along with the stress of the day out. 

“Now if only I had some dick waiting for me, that would’ve been great.” you say giggling. 

Holding the blunt between your fingers, careful not to burn your nails again. You start walking to the kitchen when your phone’s ringtone stops you mid stride. The eye roll that you unleash came deep from the soul, until you saw the name on the caller ID. 

“cam😵‍💫”

The heaviest sigh comes out but you still answer. While propping your phone up on the counter in your kitchen, the FaceTime call takes a moment to connect, then you’re greeted with his dammed but handsome face. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?” voice syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. 

“I can’t just check up on you?” he asks feigning shock. 

You take a long pull from the blunt again, mainly to avoid saying something snarky. “It’s never just a check up with you.” You say while letting the smoke out again. 

“You right…it ain’t never just that with me.” he chuckles. “But seriously, wassup?”

You shrug, not knowing really where to start; “I’m okay I guess? I don’t know. This job is getting on my nerves, so are these niggas and I don’t know what’s in the air today but it’s like everybody just was being stupid. You take a deep breath after your small rant; taking another hit before asking him, “What about you, what’s going on in your world?” 

You really didn’t care to hold back with Cameron at this point. He was what you’d call comfortable. A failed situationship turned friendship? Using the word friend very loosely here. You and him tried to make it work before, the love and feelings were there. He gave you just enough to keep you holding on—never enough to make you stay. Yet, you and him could never really leave each other be. 

There wasn’t a big fall out between the two of you, just a mutual agreement. He promised to be there for you—which only muddied up the lingering feelings you had for him—but you had to set a boundary because it’s so easy to fall into those same routines with him. You dated other men sure, they just didn’t do it for you like he did. 

Not tall enough. 

Too clingy.

Not strong enough. 

Didn’t know your body like he did. 

All fuck ups. 

Or you were just set on finding issues with every man that isn’t him? 

You tune back into the conversation catching the tail end of him mentioning some training camp he has coming up before the season starts. You nod slightly, “Another year in the books, you think y’all going all the way?” You say, as you turn around to dig in your fridge for something to eat. The last time you ate plus the weed you’re smoking, it’s like you’re starving. 

You moved to your living room after smoking and eating. The stress of your day finally off your shoulders. You and Cameron still were on the phone, the conversation between the two of you still light. Until he asked:

“You dealing with anybody?” he asks. 

You pause, shifting against the pillows on the couch to get more comfortable. “Why?” 

“I can’t ask?” A moment passes between the two of you before he continues. “Or I can’t do that no more?” he cocked an eyebrow. 

You fold your lips in on each other, a small smile forming across your face. “Be my guest…however, that don’t mean I gotta answer.” you reply, voice even. 

His eyebrows raise while humming lowly. He’s used to this with you—the push and pull, the hard exterior. It’s what attracted him to you back in college. He knew the real you under the facade—the soft version of yourself. The version he knew he wasn’t worthy of but still received. 

“You tryna be funny but it won’t be funny if I pull up and we have this conversation face to face, love.” He says, his attention fixed on you. 

“You wouldn’t.” you challenge. 

“You know I would.” 

Light knocks on your front door bring you out of the light nap you were taking. You sit up, hearing the knocks getting heavier. Taking your time, you walk to the door but before opening it, you pause. 

“Cameron, I know damn well—“ you exclaim, opening the door and seeing that shit eating grin on his face. 

“You gon let me in? Or I gotta get on my knees and beg?” Same grin on his face. 

You fold your arms across your chest, meeting his eyes. 

“You ain’t getting on your knees for nothing.” You mumble, stepping aside for him to come in. He brushes past you without a second thought as if this was all a formality. 

Once the door shuts, the space between you two feels smaller. You didn’t realize how close he was until you turned around. Your eyes meet his once again, this time you can see the heat smoldering in them. 

“Don’t get all quiet on me now…keep that same energy you had on that phone.” he murmured.

You smack your lips, “You drove all the way over here for that? you tryna prove a point to somebody?” 

“Yeah…you.” He replies, closing the space between the two of you. You take a step back bumping into the wall. You hate how your breathing changed. And you definitely hate how your heartbeat settles deep between your thighs. 

Cameron notices the shift in your body too. “You ain’t gotta keep pushing me away ma,” eyes focused on your mouth. 

“it’s only prolonging the inevitable…ain’t it?” his gaze lifts back up to you. 

A moment passes, “Just say the word and I’ll give you what you want.” 

Your lips part slightly but nothing comes out. Cameron’s hand brushed against your jaw, tilting your head back just enough. You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You leaned into him—you wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of you saying it—as his lips met yours. 

The kiss starts slow, a soft moan slipping out from you. His hands drops to your hips, gripping tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes. He pulls you in closer, while deepening the kiss. He picks you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Breaking the kiss fully, he catches his breath before saying

“It was just too much for you to just say it huh? Wouldn’t give me the satisfaction.” He tuts. 

Fighting the urge to yet again roll your eyes, grip tightening on him. “Cam…shut up and fuck me.” You whined. 

Cameron might not be able to communicate using his words but he definitely was trying to tell you something tonight. Your legs rested on his shoulders while he drove himself deeper into you. This position was always his favorite; he was able to pay attention to every little shift of yours. He pushed your legs back even more, practically folding you in half. 

Clearly he thinks you’re a gymnast of some sort. 

He must have read your mind, bringing you back to the moment, “Uh uh, stay with me.” swiveling his hips on the last word as he leaned down closer to you. Your moans getting louder now because of the angle. You pulled him closer to you by his signature chains that were in your face. The kiss you shared was messy; the sounds from the each of you mixing together to create a filthy soundtrack to the night. 

“You hear how wet she is for me baby?” he murmurs in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. You moaned in response—the mix of him fucking you and talking to you too much.

 “She missed daddy didn’t she?” He continues. This time you nod quickly.

“You missed daddy, huh?” he asks, slowing his hips. “Fuck…yes.” You breathe; your response shocking you.

The dick can’t be that good, it’s just been a while for me.

You try to come up with some sort of reasoning for you to fold that easily. Those words only spurred Cameron on. The break that you thought you were about to get? Gone. Back to proving a point. Sounds were just falling from your lips at this point. He pushed himself up on his knees, looking at where you were connected. An even filthier scene to match the ambiance. 

Your legs fell to the bed wide open, giving them a well needed break. You watched him through hooded eyes as he took his thumb after sucking on it to your clit rubbing in small circles in tandem to his strokes. Your moans got higher in pitch. You gripped your breasts, pinching your nipples between your thumb and index fingers; the more stimulation the better. 

“You gon cum fa’me?”

“Right fuckin’ there, oh my—“ you moan. Squeezing your eyes shut, that feeling you know all too well washes over you. His name a plea that’s freely flowing from your lips through your whole orgasm. 

He’s right behind you: strokes messier, low groans turning into higher pitched ones, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. 

“Where you want it?” he grunts out. 

Instead of giving him an answer, you show him by wrapping your legs around his hips, crossing them at your ankles. 

“Oh it’s—“ he starts but is quickly interrupted by a long groan as he empties himself inside of you. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he pulls out.  You whine from the loss of contact, but that was quickly replaced when he pulled you to the edge of the bed by your ankle. 

Cameron’s licked a quick stripe up as he groans directly into you. His eyes trained on yours as he at like a man starved. He pulls back enough for you to see the lower half of his face soaked with the mix of you and him. 

“We taste good together.” he groans lowering his head back between your thighs as he works to pull the second orgasm of the night from you. He slides two fingers inside of you and moves them in a ‘come here’ motion. You grip the sheets of ruined bed in your hands trying to keep yourself grounded. 

Given how sensitive you were from his previous assault on your pussy, this orgasm didn’t take as long before it crashed into you completely. His fingers slide out easily and you shudder from the loss of contact. He stands in front of you in all his naked glory; dick resting between his thighs. You sit up on one elbow, looking at him with a smug grin on his face as he licks his fingers clean. 

“I only got one question for you, who else you been fucking like that?” you muse, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

He laughs—genuine one too. “What was it that you said earlier? Be my guest? I ain’t gotta answer?” he asks rhetorically. 

You glance around, looking for something to throw at him—only then realizing everything had long since fallen off the bed.

“Ha, ha…but guess what?” You let a beat pass. “You still got on them knees tonight, ain’t you?” 

His eyebrows lift slightly, “Touché babygirl, touché.”