𝓐𝓿𝓪

“i’m telling you,” jeongin says, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, sitting on a log, smoking a cigarette, and it looks so hot on him. “there is something in the woods. a man. or the bigfoot. maybe the mothman.”

“oh fuck off.” chan says, grinning. he’s got his big manly shoulders hunched forward, elbows on his knees, staring into the flames. “pass the chips before i start eating pinecones, im serious.”

felix is half laying against a log, vape in hand, blowing out a cloud that smells like watermelon. hums a little. maybe in agreement? maybe in disagreement? maybe his dick hurts again because hours ago jeongin accidentally hit him in the crotch with a really big stick? who knows. he passes the chips to chan.

“this is nice.” changbin says, smiling at the fire. “we should do this more often.”

“we should survive this first.” han mumbles, glancing into the trees.

“relax.” hyunjin says. he reaches over, stealing felix’s vape and taking a slow hit. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

minho just shrugs, staring into the flames.

“serial killer.” jeongin says immediately.

“bear attack.” seungmin adds.

“haunted forest.” han throws in, increasingly stressed.

“you guys watch too many movies.” chan says.

none of them hear the distant, dull thud of something heavy being dragged across the ground.

changbin starts digging in a bag to calm the others down. “does anyone want—okay, no, don’t throw that—han, catch—”

han fumbles the bag of chips, nearly drops it, then clutches it. “i got it. i got it. we’re good.”

“we were not good for a second there.” seungmin says.

“yeah, that was a close one.” jeongin adds, deadpan, flicking ash onto the dirt.

they’re such boys. around the little fire they set up(chan set up because he insisted on it, average man) it’s already messy, they leave fucking trash around, they’re just horrible. men.

hyunjin hands the vape back without looking, eyes flicking toward the trees for a second.

“relax.” chan says, noticing. “there’s nothing out there.”

hyunjin hums, unconvinced but not arguing.

“except your mom.” felix giggles, taking his little vape back and taking a fat pull. then holds it out to han. “you want next? it’s basically salad in smoke form, healthy as shit.”

han is fidgeting, blanket around his shoulders. “i dunno man… what if a bear smells the vape and thinks we’re giant watermelons? i’m not dying for your lung cancer bro, no offense.”

the fire crackles. sparks drift up.

jeongin takes another drag, squinting into the woods. “still. would be kinda insane if someone was just… out there.”

seungmin snorts. “yeah, what, dragging a body or something?”

they laugh.

meanwhile, you stab the shovel into the ground. finally. the metal goes into the dirt, and you lean your weight into it, push down with your foot, then lift it back.

first scoop.

you toss it to the side.

second.

third.

dig, lift, throw. dig, lift, throw.

“i’m gonna piss.” hyunjin says, standing up.

“don’t fall in.” seungmin says.

“don’t get murdered.” jeongin adds, flicking his cigarette.

“do get murdered.” minho mutters.

“don’t come back.” felix says.

“don’t go too far.” chan calls after him.

hyunjin lifts a hand in a little “yeah yeah” gesture without looking back.

it’s darker away from the fire. obviously. but like, noticeably darker. he fumbles with his zipper, muttering under his breath about this and that and—his foot catches on something. he doesn’t even have time to process it before he’s falling forward, hands coming out too late, and he slams into the ground.

his knee hits first, then his palms, and something shifts under him. wrong. plastic… slippery?

not rock. not root.

he freezes.

there’s a second, just one, where he thinks, no, ignore that. stand up. pretend that didn’t happen.

then he looks down.

the shape under the shiny black plastic is… familiar to humans biologically. long. wrapped. the plastic catches what little light there is, and there’s something inside. something very clearly inside.

“…what the fuck.” he breathes. looks up. sees you a few feet away, shovel in hand, dirt disturbed at your feet, a shallow start of a hole behind you.

you’re both still for a while.

and hyunjin screams. not like a cool, composed, masculine shout, no a full fucking little girl scream as he scrambles backward, slipping again, hands digging into the dirt as he puts distance between you and… that.

god. he’s beautiful. on the ground where be belongs, hair a little messy, eyes wide as fuck, he’s stunning.

“wait, wait.” you say quickly. you shift the shovel slightly, angling it away.

“oh my god, oh my god, oooooh—” he’s half whispering, half yelling, hands coming up. “i—i didn’t—i didn’t see, i thought—what the fuck is that?”

you… stand there. shovel in hand. a girl. alone. with a shovel. and a big fucking bag. in the woods. great.

“i— are you—are you—” his eyes are so big, you haven’t felt attraction since… ever, but he’s a really pretty guy, you can admit that.

you let the shovel slip from your hands, meets the ground. now, your acting skills come in handy. your shoulders tense, then fold inward just slightly. you learned how to do this, how to angle your body into this, you learned the biology and psychology of this, why humans act like this when they’re about to cry and how they act. your breathing shifts, quicker now, uneven. you bring a hand up to your mouth.

“i didn’t mean to.” you say. it comes out quiet. really adorable. you take a tiny tiny step back, acting like you’re scared, guilty. fucking ACTIIIING. “i didn’t—i didn’t know what else to do.” you whimper out.

“what…?”

you shake your head quickly, like you can’t even get the words out properly, like this is all just too much. “he—” your voice catches, you let it. lean into it. “he was—he was my ex and he—he hit me and i—i just—” you stop, breath hitching. god, you’re such a good liar, y/n.

you don’t have to force the tears as much as you’d think. just, yknow, enough to blur your vision slightly, enough to make your eyes feel better.

crocodile tears.

they work. they always do.

his tense posture drops. his hands, which were held up to push himself away, hesitate. “wait, hey. hey, it’s okay—are you—are you okay?”

you shake your head. “i didn’t mean to kill him.” you whisper, acting like you can’t even look at what you’ve done. “i just—he wouldn’t stop and i— euugh…” you cut yourself off again, pressing your lips together, acting like you’re holding the just oh so cruel reality back from an innocent guy like he is. you ain’t holding shit back, this is just an act. you evil bitch.

“hey, hey—” he pushes himself up, cautious. “it’s okay, i’m not—i’m not gonna… just what happened? if you, want to tell me, of course—“

you shake your head, eyes darting like you’re panicking. “he wasn’t supposed to—i just—i… i just wanted him to leave me alone…”

his face scrunches up. there it is. god. men are so predictable it’s insulting.

you look down, wrapping your arms around yourself. “i didn’t know what to do. i just… i panicked.”

“are you… are you hurt?” hyunjin asks, stepping closer.

you hesitate. again, all an act. then shake your head. “i’m fine.” but it comes out weak, unconvincing on purpose.

he doesn’t buy it, well that’s the point so after all he does buy it. takes a cautious step closer, then another. the bag is next to his feet now. he avoids looking at it. that’s interesting.

“hey. it’s… okay, just calm down, alright?” he’s quieter, gentler.

he puts his hand on your arm. warm. feels good.

you look down at it, then up at him. his face is… open(you haven’t seen a face this open since you tried your new axe out, okay murder aside it is a really open boy face, not keeping anything back from you). worried. brows drawn together, so beautiful. so dumb. so trusting and naive because you’re pretty.

“did he… did he hurt you bad?”

you let out a shaky breath. nod.

bitch please. you’ve never had a boyfriend. never needed one. never wanted one.

“i didn’t know what else to do.” you whisper, acting ashamed of it, looking down so he can see the tears drop. ohhh you evil whore.

“hey. hey, look at me.”

you hesitate before you do, make him want it first. also big mistake on his part, wanting this. eye contact makes it easier for you.

“you did what you had to do.” he says. let’s note that hyunjin is an evil bitch, he’s a boy, a dumb heartbreaker. “okay? if he was hurting you, if you were in danger, then… then that’s not… that’s not your fault.”

you watch him, how he’s trying to fix this. to fix you. to make it something understandable, something easier for his normal human boy mind to swallow. he’s comforting himself more, kind of. it’s endearing.

“i was just going to bury him.” you say, glancing back at the half started hole. “and then just… leave. i’m so sorry.” you start actually crying at the last words. the actress ever.

he follows your gaze, then quickly looks back at you again, swallowing. “alone?”

you nod.

he looks so… protective. “you shouldn’t be out here alone. i mean—not like—you know what i mean.”

you just let more pretty little tears drop.

he takes a big breath. “you don’t— you don’t have to— i mean— shit.” he runs a hand through his hair, clearly scrambling. “okay, okay, we can— we can figure this out, alright? i’ve got friends, we’re just, we’re camping not far from here, we can—”

friends.

oh okay.

you shake your head quickly, eyes wide and big and face looking heartbroken. “no, no, i can’t, can’t, if anyone finds out—”

“they won’t. i mean, fuck, okay, maybe they will, but we can—we can help, okay? we’ll figure something out.”

we.

he’s already including you??? what a cutie!

“you won’t tell anyone?” you ask, pathetic.

he hesitates. good. that means he’s thinking.

“i…” he glances back toward where he came from, then back at you. “not if you don’t want me to.”

and there we go.

“thank you.” you whisper. another tear slips down.

“hyune?” another man’s voice.

hyunjin’s head snaps toward the sound so fast you almost hear it.

“where the fuck did you go? did bigfoot fuck you bro?” another voice, different tone.

there’s three of them. (chan, his posture tells that he knows something is off. seungmin just behind him, eyes narrowed slightly. nobody can see that, of course, it’s still dark. changbin behind the two.)

fuck. okay. you don’t move. neither does hyunjin.

for a bit, it’s just a weird little… situation. you, him, the shovel on the ground, the bag just out of their immediate line of sight because of the angle and the trees and pure luck.

chan looks at hyunjin. (hyune, as you know him now) “what’s up, bro?” then, he clocks the little body next to hyunjin. “oh shit. hi? you… lost out here, sweetheart?”

hyunjin looks at them, then at you.

you shake your head.

don’t.

“i’m—i’m fine.” you say, voice angelic, a little shaky still. all on purpose. you take a small step back, trying to create distance from all of them at once. acting so scared. “i just… i’d rather—if you could just leave me alone.” you’re thinking about which one you’d gut first if they push.

“hey, no one’s—” changbin starts gently.

“nah, it’s…” hyunjin cuts in, so fast, then clears his throat, trying to smooth it out. “it’s nothing. she’s, uh, she’s good.”

seungmin doesn’t say anything, you wouldn’t even know he’s here if you hadn’t heard him barking around about bigfoot fucking hyunjin. which is fucking hilarious but bursting out laughing would kinda throw your perfect performance off.

hyunjin forces a shit laugh out. son get yourself together. “i just scared her, i think. came outta nowhere.”

you drop your gaze. like yeah, some random guy stumbling out of the woods while you’re alone at night.

seungmin tilts his head, talks to you. “you sure? ‘cause if some dude’s out here fuckin’ with you—”

“no dude.” you say quick, eyes flicking to hyunjin. sorry, hyune. “he really did just scare me. i was on a walk.”

“yeah uh… she’s good. i checked. we’re all good. let’s head back, guys. fire’s probably dying.”

chan is watching you, trying to figure out if you’re a problem or if you have a problem. “you sure you’re good?” god. the tone. what a man.

“yeah. yeah, i’m fine.”

“hey.” changbin says, sweet because damn you cute. “it’s okay. we’re not— we’re not gonna bother you, alright? we’re just over there.” he gestures behind them. “if you need anything or whatever, you can come by. if you want. no pressure. yeah.”

something weird is… in you. okay, wait, fuck, you’ve never felt this before. people are meat. meat screams, meat bleeds, meat goes in bags. feelings are for other people, not you. these dumb fucks actually want you safe?? tf?? it’s disgusting. it’s ridiculous. it’s… good??

you nod again. “thank you.”

chan exhales through his nose, then jerks his head slightly back toward where they came from. “alright. we’ll leave you to it.” he looks at hyunjin. “come on.”

hyunjin hesitates again. god, he’s bad at this. “okay.”

changbin gives you one last small, reassuring smile, which you still can’t see btw, it’s so dark that you couldn’t make fucking bigfoot out even if he stood in front of your nose. or if he was fucking hyunjin. “seriously, though. don’t be afraid to come by, okay?”

“okay. thank you.”

seungmin scratches his head. “take care, alright?”

“okay. you too.”

they turn, slow, not so sure about the situation, if you’re really fine. start to leave.

hyunjin mouths “i got you” then turns, follows his boys.

chan claps him on the shoulder. makes him stumble. “you’re explaining this later, dipshit.”

seungmin mutters “fucking weirdo beating it to scared lonely girls” under his breath.

changbin waves.

their voices drift. fade. gone. silence again. just you. and the body.

he’s an idiot.

absolute fucking idiot.

you look down at your arm, where that idiot’s hand was. it’s nothing. obviously. just skin. just warmth that’s already gone because our skin doesn’t hold it, doesn’t need it.

you’ve never… you don’t… feelings aren’t really your thing. that’s kind of the whole thing. but something, something weird, small and cute and annoying stays in you now. so new. so upsetting.

you exhale. bend down, pick up the shovel. mutter “fuck.” quietly, more out of habit than anything.

and then you stab it back into the ground. because whatever that was, it doesn’t matter.

it doesn’t matter how nice they were. how helpful. it also doesn’t matter that you’re really thinking about them now. who was that friend of hyune that called you sweetheart? sounded cute. was built cute. had a cute face from what you could make out.

and make out you’d do with him. would even let him drive his big hands in your hair, guiding your head down, sitting back against a tree while you kneel between his thighs. you’d love to listen to him say “fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” you’d take him all the way into your little mouth, nose to his skin, let him feel how much you can handle, how good you can suck him off, make him lose that calmness he dealt with you with until he’s bucking around.

who was the other guy that was going on about bigfoot? he was hilarious. that deserves a blowjob too, you’d say. uhuh, yeaahhh, you’d have him standing, back to a tree, legs spread, hands fisted in your hair while you suck him sloppy, spit dripping down your chin. make him your bitch.

and you’d lay that third wide sweetheart down on a sleeping bag, soft licks on him first, teasing swirls around the head until he’s whimpering “please, baby, please” yeah you’d take him gentle then deep, then suck so hard he feels it in his balls, let him hold your hands and whatnot sweet shit these kinda men are into because damn he was an angel.

hyune, that’s what your boy’s name was? doesn’t suit him. might be a nickname. anyways. he deserves a reward for what he just pulled for you, that reward containing your tongue tracing every vein on his cock, sucking just the tip until he’s begging, pretty please, baby, let me cum, i’ll be good i’ll keep your secrets blablabla. you’d let him, swallow every drop, then lick him clean while he stares at you and also try really hard not to stare at the body bag.

yeah you’re lowk a perv.

but these creepy little fantasies keep you entertained while burying the body. which you just finished with btw. you smooth it out, kick some leaves over it, drag your foot across the surface until it looks like everything else.

like nothing ever happened.

like no one was ever here.

you stand there.

then you pick up the shovel.

and instead of leaving… you go towards where the boys disappeared towards.

oh this is stupid. you know it’s stupid. there is no practical reason to do this. none. zero. negative, even. this is how people get caught, this is how dumb people die, how multiple victims of yours died already. you go anyway. doesn’t take long to see the glow even, firelight flickering through the trees. voices, loud, boy.

you stop in a fair little distance, close enough to hear, far enough to not be seen. you lean lightly on a tree, paying attention so the shovel doesn’t hit anything and make noise, and you listen.

“…i’m telling you, she was not normal, bro.” seungmin is saying as you settle behind the tree a little.

“yeah, no shit she wasn’t normal, she was alone in the woods at night.” jeongin says. “that’s already like… step one of weird.”

“she wasn’t weird weird, she was just scared.” changbin says quickly.

“yeah.” hyunjin adds, so fast. oh he’s bad at this. “she was just scared.”

chan pokes at the fire with a stick. “scared of what? you?”

“probably.” seungmin says. “i mean, look at him. man walks outta the dark while you’re alone? i’d be like yeah, cool, this is how i die.”

“thank you.” hyunjin mutters. “fuckface.”

felix leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out. “was she cute, though?”

silence.

your mouth opens a bit.

oh.

“…yeah.” changbin says first, a little hesitant but honest.

oh?

“yeah.” seungmin agrees immediately. “like—yeah.”

oh???

“yeah, no, she was.” changbin says. “like really cute.”

“oh my god.” jeongin says, sitting up straighter. “what the fuck do you mean she was cute and you just left her out there?!”

“calm down.” chan says, shoving him lightly with his foot. “she wanted to be left alone.”

jeongin slaps chan’s foot away. “no girl actually wants to be left alone in the woods at night—”

“you’re creepy, dude.” minho mutters.

“i’m just saying—”

“no, you’re just being weird.”

hyunjin is sitting back where he was before(except you don’t know where he was before but whatevs), but he’s not relaxed. so tense. you can see it even from here, the way he keeps glancing toward the trees. you smile.

“you could have just dicked her down.” felix mutters, voice so deep now that it’s a longer sentence, omfg who is this you’re interested, even while his posture is ass.

“what was she even doing out there?” han asks, leaning forward, oh he looks like a little bug, hello little bug.

“walking, i guess. or just… needed space.” changbin says.

“yeah.” seungmin adds. “probably just wanted a walk alone and then hyunjin is in the woods. i’d run.”

hyunjin. what a name.

“man or bear.” felix says.

“what?” chan looks at him.

“it’s on tiktok, dude. would you rather run into a man or a bear in the woods.”

they’re so fucking dumb.

“bear? i’d fight the bear.” changbin mutters.

“fucking liar.” chan whispers.

“no, i’m serious. at least the bear’s predictable.”

jeongin does that boyish smile while raising your eyebrows thing. “predictably eating you.”

“eating you out.” felix giggles. ???

“still better odds than some random dude.” seungmin says.

“hey.” chan gestures at himself, offended. “i’m a random dude.”

“yeah and i fucking hate you.”

“i’m strong. i’d take a man in a fight.” han says.

“it’s a question for women, asshole.” minho mutters.

changbin nods. “yeah she was shaking like a leaf—“

jeongin gets up. “i’m gonna go say hi.”

“no you’re not.” chan says, grabbing the top of his jeans and yanking him back down.

“let me go—”

“sit the fuck down.” seungmin says, grabbing his arm too.

“there’s a hot girl in the woods—”

“and she asked to be left alone.” changbin says. he’s so cute.

“yeah, and i’m gonna respectfully not do that—”

“dude.” hyunjin mutters. it’s really firm. hot tbh.

that does it. jeongin flops back down. “assholes. missed opportunity.”

“she’ll come by if she wants to. we told her, right?” changbin reassures.

“yeah. she knows.”

“and if she doesn’t, then she doesn’t.” chan says. “leave it.”

“fine.” jeongin mutters, lighting another cigarette because he’s a dumb boy. “but if she does show up, i’m talking to her first.”

“no, you’re not.” seungmin says.

“yes, i am.”

“no, you’re—”

you watch them. they’re all cute. why are they all cute?

“did she say anything else?” chan asks, looking at hyunjin again. they seem like good friends. they fit together well as friends. so boys.

hyunjin hesitates. you watch him. “…not really. just… thanked us.”

he’s not perfect, but good enough.

“i just think it’s a missed connection. like we should’ve exchanged numbers or something.” jeongin says.

“yeah, because that wouldn’t be creepy at all.” minho says.

“hey, want my number while you’re clearly uncomfortable and trying to be alone?” chan says.

han laughs. “dude, i’m so hard right now.”

“yeah, bro.” seungmin says.

“yeeeeah.” felix daps him up.

“same.” jeongin says, smiling ear to ear. he’s beautiful.

“you’re disgusting.” changbin says, laughing that cute little babe laugh.

“what? you said she was cute.” han shrugs.

“that doesn’t—” changbin starts, then gives up halfway through, covering his face. “oh my god.”

“it’s a natural reaction.” han tells him.

“to what? a conversation?” minho asks quietly.

“to the idea.” han says.

“the idea.” seungmin repeats.

“yeah.”

“just don’t nut in your sleeping bag again like last camping trip.” felix mutters, then takes a hit from his little vape.

han stomps a little. such a hot babe. “that was one time. and it was your fault for describing your sister’s friend’s ass in detail.”

you physically have to press your lips together to not laugh. watch them but in that studying way of yours that you do so well, how they lean into each other, how they interrupt, talk over, laugh too loud. the way none of them seem… alone. that they’re friends.

annoying.

hyunjin kept your secret. for no reason. for you. dumb. all of them.

you bite your lip, thighs squeezing together because shit damn fuck this is hot. they think you’re the victim. you’re the bad one here, and they’re at the idea of saving you.

jeongin’s still throwing his pretty body around. that tank top looks good on him. “just let me go peek. i won’t even talk to her. i’ll just… admire from afar.“

chan rolls his eyes. sassy. like okay daddy. “no. she asked for space, we give it. end of story.”

shit. you enjoy listening to this.

okay tbh let him come. you’d let him chase you a little, make him work for it, then push him against a tree and drop to your knees like right there, suck him fast while he groans “fuck yes baby, knew you wanted it” while you hollow your cheeks and make him cum down your throat in under two minutes because he’s all talk.

that other guy next(han), you’d pull him away from the group, sit him on a fallen log, straddle his lap so slow and so teasing, grind while he’s whimpering “is this real?” yeah baby it is and you’d help with that boner situation real quick.

then the deep voiced guy(felix). you’d blow him while he’s still hitting that cancer maker, making him cough-laugh-moan, calling you babe while you swirl your tongue just right until he bucks and cums sofly(softly, he looks like a fucking twink) with a long “fuuuuck”

you’d kneel in front of that quiet(but real funny) one too(minho), look up through your lashes, take him so slow and so thorough, aaaaaall until he’s gripping your jaw to fuck it, cumming while shaking. from where you are, when he does get talkative, he’s hot.

but when minho does get talkative again, you leave. not because he finally spoke more, you’d love to listen, but because you have to fucking go.

they’ll never know how close you were.

how close you still are.

dumb boys.

you drive out there again at like 4am the next day, hike until you find their place again. it’s trashed, empty beer cans, just men littering. assholes. but the important part is the tire tracks. two vehicles. you follow one out to the main road, remember the direction they went off (toward the city, not the highway), then go home and start your little business.

you find jeongin in no time. in a club, specifically. dancing, cig somehow lit (how the fuck), hips not stopping, sweat making his shirt cling, sly grin everytime a girl grinds on him. someone tries to take the cigarette from his mouth. he dodges, grinning. “buy your own.” asshole. you follow him when he leaves at 3am with two friends. his apartment’s fifth floor.

next day you learn he bartends at a bar two streets over, y’know shaking cocktails, flirting with everyone, sneaking cig breaks in the alley where you’re hiding behind a dumpster eating fries. other option, you sit at the bar in a wig and fake glasses (cliche but effective), order a soda, watch him flirt, pour shots with flips, flip me like that too daddy, wink at girls while calling guys boss. he’s disgusting. perfect. you imagine sucking him off behind the bar while he tries to keep pouring. you leave before close.

he lives alone. parties every night. you watch from the roof across the street deadass through binoculars while he rails some random girl on his couch, then immediately texts his gc with the boys after. that’s about how much he cares about the girl. so not at all. jeongin, you beautiful slut, you’re perfect.

once you start, it’s… hard to stop. you already have one thread. might as well pull the rest.

changbin and hyunjin are roommates in a cute two bedroom loft above a coffee shop, big windows, have blinds but they forget to close most of the time. fuck you hope they’re not gay. well not like you would have a problem with them being gay, you just really want to fuck them. like really.

on yeah you found the names out. heard them talk, listened carefully. simple shit, wasn’t hard. (you’re a fucking creep)

hyunjin’s room has soft lighting, so him, posters of bands you don’t give a flying fuck about, art shit, and usually hyunjin himself sprawled on his bed in just boxers scrolling tiktok with the most angelic little face or frown or smile while changbin yells from the kitchen “bro did you eat the last yogurt again you absolute whore” changbin’s room is simple, just like he is. maybe a bit messy until hyunjin starts to fuss over it and cleans up. you usually watch for hours, watching changbin talk to his mom on the phone, get into his nice car and talk to it like it’s his baby(luxury. changbin’s got money or daddy does. hot.), hyunjin laugh at his phone, watching him stretch, watching him scratch his balls. you’re so wet you almost slip off from wherever you’re watching. god you’re disgusting.

chan next. easier. he lives alone. you park in the alley behind his building most nights, watch him come home from whatever blue collar job he’s got (construction? delivery? something with his hands). shirtless fridge raids of his are… wow. fridge door opens, light comes out, you can see his broad body, sweatpants always about to slip off that round ass, scratching his abs while he stares into the fridge. grabs a beer, chugs half standing there, scratches his balls. you zoom in from across the street.

you hear him blasting shitty rap while doing push ups shirtless. so cute. manly. you sit on the fire escape across the alley eating and kinda maybe jerking off to the way his back muscles move. he was there for you in the woods so you’re there for his morning wood outline in those gray sweatpants. fair’s fair.

han and minho are in a shittier apartment complex downtown, third floor, blinds always open. brutal win tbh. you sit on the stairwell one afternoon pretending to scroll tiktok while han comes home from wherever nice boys go, carrying grocery bags and humming. minho’s already inside, you hear his voice when the door opens telling han to “quit singing that fucking song it’s stuck in my head now.” makes you want to puke and also hump the doorframe. you watch han jerk off once, quick, face buried in a pillow. you almost applaud.

seungmin also lives alone. looks really depressive but he seems to be having fun by himself(he always looks mad asf), he just lies around when he’s home. maybe on the couch, maybe in his bed when he’s not working. he’s pretty boring to watch but really pretty so maybe not that boring after all. he cooks for himself too. looks cute doing it. you’d like to try his food one day.

felix is rich. you tail him from the gym (where he and chan and changbin go to fuck around, felix does nothing) to a fucking mansion ass house with a gate code you memorize after watching him punch it in twice. parents barely home, felix smoking something on the balcony in a silk robe. you climb the fence one night and watch him facetiming his mom while shirtless, saying “yeah mom i ate vegetables today” right before he snorts a line of something off his coffee table.

when parents are home, he spends time with them. seems to be bored of them tho. (an: this characterization of felix is not affected by his sisters, so it’s up to you, dearest reader, to think of him as someone who has siblings or is a spoiled only child) you watch him walk in one afternoon and his mom hugs him at the door. he leans down into it, smiling, being an angel of a boy.

“you eat?” she asks.

“yeah, ma.”

liar. he didn’t. you know that because you followed him the whole day.

you climb the tree in his backyard sometimes, fucking lunatic, watch him through his bedroom window. he’s on discord with the boys, vaping(like specifically vaping, the pussy boy, real men smoke actual cigarettes, he’s a little bitch), being loud, saying nasty shit. does he kiss his mother with that mouth? you cackle in the tree so loud a neighbor’s dog barks. he’s dreamy and spoiled and seems out of reach and that naturally excites people more and you want to fuck him on his own king bed while his parents are in the bahamas.

they were up to be there for you. so now, you’re there for them. creepy? yeah. a little pervy? absolutely. but means a lot coming from you. because you want to go back to these assholes of boys, for some reason(and not kill them). again. and again. and again.

you’re everywhere and nowhere.

there for them. every night. every shower. every fridge look through. every drunk walk home. every disgusting fucking word said to each other.

you work on a fucking schedule. monday, hyunjin and changbin. tuesday, jeongin’s bar shift where you sit in the corner nursing one beer for six hours while he winks at you. wednesday, felix’s mansion where you watch him play video games in his underwear. thursday, seungmin’s place for watching him shower. friday, minho and han beating each other up playfully. saturday, chan walking around shirtless at home on the phone about some business. sundays go for planning. planning good, and the reward for that is watching them eat cereal, watching them argue over who gets the aux, watching them jack off, watching them exist, cute, clueless.

they wanted to save you, you’re just returning the favor. because you’re just looking out for them!!

you love doing this. you love watching chan stand in front of open fridge in just pants(no underwear if you’re lucky), scratching his happy trail absentmindedly while deciding between leftover pizza and beer. usually picks both. eats standing up, leaning on counter, one hand down his pants adjusting his dick. once flexed his pecs twice in the microwave’s reflection, then went back to scrolling his phone.

another time he jerked off on the couch facing the window. lights off, curtains open, fucking win, slow, good strokes while watching porn on his laptop, head tipped back, mouth open when he came on his stomach. wiped it with the same t shirt he was wearing earlier. boys.

he also orders food everytime. you have never seen this man make food.

hyunjin is quieter at home. comes out of the shower in just a white towel(doesn’t use other colored towels and doesn’t like it when binnie does either), water dripping down his chest, hair wet and dark. you like his hair. it’s almost kinda curly? cute. he stands in front of mirror, towel moving with him as he brushes his teeth, stomach muscles flexing when he reaches for mouthwash. once he let the towel drop completely to lotion his legs. holy fuck. long, pretty thighs, cock soft between them. you almost came just from watching and this is not an exaggeration.

beautiful even when he’s picking at a pimple in the bathroom mirror. one evening you see him humping the edge of the couch while on his phone, mouth open and panting because he’s trying to be quiet with changbin in the next room. cums in his boxers, bites his lip almost fucking bloody to stay silent, then changes like nothing happened.

changbin talks to himself while gaming, yells “fuck you laggy piece of shit” at the monitor, slams controller down, then apologizes to it and panics because he doesn’t want to buy another one. he came home drunk once, tripped over his own shoes(he’s lucky hyunjin didn’t see him walk in with shoes), face down on the bed still in jeans, ass up, snoring within thirty seconds. another night he jerked off under the covers, quiet little grunts, phone glowing on his face. finished with a soft “oh fuck yeah” and then immediately texted someone. you couldn’t see what he texted. you’re thrilled to.

you watch changbin vacuuming in just basketball shorts, singing until hyunjin shoves his dirty sock feet into changbin’s face. they also cook together a lot.

one evening hyunjin comes out of the shower in nothing but a towel on his hips, out to the kitchen to make something, and changbin wolf whistles then throws a pillow at him. hyunjin drops the towel to mess with bin, standing there naked(holy shit his pubes are so attractive, you’re this attracted) before changbin screams “dude put it away, i’ve seen that shit multiple times and it’s still weird!”

seungmin’s balcony sliding door is always cracked for his cigarette smoke. fucking goldmine. he paces there while on the phone, shirtless, scratching his ass crack through basketball shorts. once he walked out just boxers to piss in a plant. why? but his dick was cute so anyways. flips himself off in the mirror sometimes.

jeongin sometimes brings girls home, quick, loud fucks against the wall you can hear through the thin glass, him moaning “yeah baby just like that” while the girl giggles. when he’s alone he jerks off in front of his computer with the volume up, pretty mouth always left open as his face twists. hot.

he parties hard, comes home at 4am stumbling, pisses in the sink(???) then crashes on the bed still wearing shoes. one morning you watch him wake up, scratch his balls for a solid minute, then immediately light a cig before even brushing his teeth.

eats cereal randomly just because he’s jn the mood to, milk dripping down his chin. cutie.

han acts like a teenage girl. lying on his stomach, legs swinging, on his phone. you don’t understand why doesn’t he have bitches. he’s attractive.

another night he jerks off in his room, quiet little gasps, whispering “fuck fuck fuck” under his breath because he’s trying not to wake minho.

minho, meanwhile, scratches his ass crack through his boxers while cooking, dick soft but outline visible. makes your mouth water. you also see him jerk off once in silence, back to window, hot, hand moving under the sheet, cums with just an exhale, rolls over and sleeps like nothing happened. you felt like hitting the jackpot there.

felix’s bedroom window at the fucking mansion is second floor but the tree’s perfect. he’s home most nights because “studying” means discord with the boys. scratching nipple absentmindedly while talking shit. jerks off on call with the boys once, cam off mic off, “hold up guys brb” then wet slapping sounds, heavy breathing, “fuck fuck fuck” cums with a hot manly groan, then unmutes, camera back, back to game “aight i’m good”.

or “bro i’d let her sit on my face till i pass out for reaaal.” his mom calls him down for dinner and he yells back “five minutes, ma!” then goes right back to describing in graphic detail how he’d fuck someone.

jerks off to hentai, by the way. loud moans from the anime girls on screen while he strokes himself on his bed, whispering “yes mommy” unironically at one point. you nearly fall out of the tree laughing.

showers with his bathroom door open sometimes, takes his slutty little showers hot, singing badly(could be good if he did some training tho, there’s a potential), towel around that babe waist when he walks back into the room, drops it to air dry, cock bouncing as he flops on bed to scroll. scratches balls while texting, leg up, full view. you’re in love.

you’re in love with how they are. how they live. how they do, what they do.

you know a lot and you’re in love with that lot. you know chan watches sport. you know minho stares at himself in the mirror after showering, tracing his scar, flexing his arms, proud of himself. you know changbin eats an entire family size bag of chips in bed, crumbs everywhere, falls asleep like that. you know hyunjin humps his pillow in his sleep. you know han always walks around the place just in boxers. you know felix kisses his mom on cheek after saying the nastiest shit online, then goes upstairs to smoke and jack off again. you know seungmin yells at everything, from football on the tv to dogs barking outside. you know jeongin has surprisingly good piss aim.

they’re so boys. so gross. so human. so hot.

you watch them scratch, curse, jerk, eat, sleep, piss, flex, throw up, moan, laugh, cry once (changbin after a bad day, curled up hugging pillow, sniffling like a kid). you watch them live like no one’s watching.

but you are.

always.

you see them be everything. changbin brings hyunjin coffee in bed one morning. chan helps an old lady with her groceries then comes home and immediately sniffs his armpits and makes a face. felix argues with his dad about college but then hugs him after. jeongin texts the group chat stupid shit at the middle of the fucking night and they all reply instantly even when half asleep. han blushes at his own horniness. things like these.

goooood you’re such a fucking creep.

sitting in your car at 2am with the seat leaned back, binoculars fogging up from how hard you’re breathing, heart doing this stupid shit it’s never done before.

you used to kill people and feel nothing in general. now it’s like… discovering fanfiction and vibrators at the same time. head over heels. stomach always full of butterflies. first crush of your entire empty life.

you didn’t even know feelings could do this.

growing up you were just… flat. eh. meh. other synonyms. kill, move on, kill again.

but these assholes made your feelings turn on. these useless dumb fucks. genuinely what do they provide to society.

you recognize yourself smiling during the day thinking about chan’s body. you think about hyunjin’s gentle voice while fingering yourself in the shower. minho’s nose. han’s teeth. jeongin’s face shape. changbin’s face fat. felix’s flat little boy ass. seungmin’s way of controlling his eyebrows. all so unbelievably hot.

you’re in love. actual disgusting love. with all eight of them. simultaneously. that’s actually eight times feeling more than you ever did.

you have never felt and you do it in eight ways now. it’s brain melting.

but you just love them so much.

to start with, felix’s happy trail is brutal.

that sooooft little line of dark hair disappearing under his waistband when he walks around his room shirtless maybe after a shower, still damp, oh your fucking GOD. you watched him scratch it absently one night while arguing with his discord friends, and you almost fell out the tree.

it’s not even that deep, just a normal boy happy trail, but on him it looks like an arrow pointing to heaven and you want to follow it with your tongue until he’s begging.

jeongin’s dimples. fuuuck. when he grins that sly, cheeky grin after telling one of the boys to suck his dick, those little dents just pop in his cheeks and you feel it straight in your clit. you always have to bite your fist not to moan out loud while watching him.

you want to kiss them, bite them, sit on his face while he smiles up at you with those stupid dimples.

chan’s shoulders. unreal. usually slightly sunburnt from whatever outdoor shit he does, flexing everytime he reaches for something on the top shelf or does push ups in his living room(why do men enjoy that? fucking asshole). you love how they fill out his shirts, how they look when he’s shirtless scratching his lower back, how they push his traps up when he rolls them. like daddy let me grip them while u fuck me slow, telling me i’m safe even though i’m the actual danger.

hyunjin’s hair and that mouth(that looks like it but didn’t get lip filler, at least you didn’t find any information of that). the way his hair falls into his eyes when he’s laughing at changbin, how he smiles when he’s being evil. you watched him brush his teeth once, foam at the corners, then spit and smile at himself in the mirror because he’s proud to be pretty. so cute. you want that mouth on every part of you.

changbin’s got this smile, this warm, boyish face shape that makes you feel okay even from fifty feet away through a window. his whole build is just friendly, good to be around. you love that softness. want to fuck it up just a little. but mostly just fuck it in general. you want to fuck this man. bad.

seungmin’s mouth, from the bratty shit he spits at people to the way it has this triangle shape sometimes. like okay world class bottom stfu but also like keep talking u cute. like a little puppy. most kissable mouth on earth. caressable face. boopable nose. suckable dick.

minho’s face shape. his nose. the way he moves his eyes, eyebrows. finding this man felt like winning the lottery, watching him slap on han’s back and laugh at whatever the other did. you want him to fuck you with those intense beautiful eyes locked, hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the roommate.

you’d scream anyway. not to be a brat, just because you’re too in love with these men to not feel that good. but it he wants you to be, you could be a brat too, of course.

han’s nervousness, his awkward energy. the whole setting of the guy. the way his pretty face goes red and he looks down at his feet, kicking the air around??? hot babe. you watched him try to hide a boner during movie night by crossing his legs awkwardly, blushing, and it was the cutest fucking thing ever. you want to make him blush harder while you’re on your knees.

you feel… never better. ever. about the way felix’s already deep voice cracks when he gets excited on discord. jeongin’s cigarette smoke curling around his jawline. chan’s happy trail too, you’re dripping wet just thinking about it. hyunjin’s long fingers when he plays with some kind of smoke. changbin’s pretty little handwriting on the grocery list stuck to the fridge. seungmin’s ass posture. minho’s veiny arms. han’s messy bedhead every morning.

at first it scared you, feelings? gross. attachment? even grosser. all of it ew, ew, ew!

you sat in your car after one particularly long stalking session, hands shaking, not understanding what the fuck was happening. you didn’t have a word for it until you googled shit, turns out it’s called a crush.

it’s so pink. it’s embarrassing. your notebook (yes you have a notebook now, you absolute creep) is full of little doodles, hearts around jeongin’s name, stars next to hyunjin’s, tiny knives next to seungmin(??? tf is your problem).

you’re in love with men. specifically these eight men. their smells (you’ve gotten close enough some nights to catch hints of deodorant and boy sweat), their laughs, their boners, their kindness, their evilness, their stupidity.

you love how they scratch their (big) asses, how they announce horniness, how they always beat each other up.

it feels like you’re floating on pure pink. fuck!! rainbows out your ass. little hearts above your head. genfuckinguinely. your brain is 80% vibrating dildos and 20% planning the most meticulous breaking and entering schedule known to man.

because that’s what you’re going to do.

night one, chan’s place when he’s sleeping over at hyunjin and changbin’s. easy entry through the bathroom window he always leaves cracked because “fresh air, bro.” the fucking second your shoes touch his floor you feel like fucking exploding.

better than any kill you’ve ever done.

you giggle. you have to slap a hand over your fuckass mouth.

you look through his laundry basket first, bury your face in a worn t shirt that smells like sweat and pure christopher chahn bahng. steal one of his gray sweatpants (what else, they’re overrated but for a good reason) and a pair of boxers.

you open his fridge, touch the beer cans, lick the rim of one. disgusting fucking freak. spin around in his living room, arms out, laughing because this is insane and you’re so happy it hurts. you’re so in love that you’re this disgustingly cringe. you’re such a girl.

you leave with a hoodie of his and the sweatpants & boxers.

night two, jeongin’s. fire escape is your best friend. you pick the lock on his balcony door with shaking hands that are shaking from excitement, not even accidentally fear. you have no reason to be afraid(you have all the reasons to). you’re never afraid bfr.

inside it smells like cig smoke, a good cologne, and boy. you steal his half empty pack of cigarettes, the lighter with the scratched on dick drawing, and a t shirt with some print on it that was on the floor and maybe cum stains on the inside.

you roll around on his unmade bed, face pressed into his pillow, inhaling deep while your thighs clench together. the rush is so strong you have to sit on the floor for a minute just breathing through it, laughing to yourself. you’re fucking unbearable.

you take a pair of his socks and a mug besides the lighter and the cigarettes and the shirt, all of it in the shirt which is tied together. when you climb back out you’re spinning on the fire escape.

night three, changbin and hyunjin’s loft. they’re both out at some group thing so the place is empty and waiting just for you. you go through their bathroom, steal hyunjin’s strawberry scented body wash (makes your pussy drip), one’s dirty sock from the laundry, and changbin’s toothbrush. men don’t miss shit like these.

from hyunjin’s room you take one of his hoodies and the vape he left charging. he’ll just bitch to bin about losing it. from changbin’s you pick his perfume up, dig a shirt out of the back of his closet, spray it on until it’s swimming in it, then open the window so he’s less likely to smell it when he comes back, take the shirt with you.

you sit on their couch for abt ten minutes just imagining them wrestling there, then jump and hop and squeal around for a while.

you leave with their shared grocery list stuck to the fridge as a souvenir.

day four, han’s and minho’s. han’s room is a mess of energy drinks and dirty clothes. you steal one random pokemon card he left on his table (he has hundreds) and a pair of his boxers that have little dinosaurs on them. cuuuuute. you want to make him cum through them one day.

minho’s room is… kind of tidy, just as much as a man can be tidy. you take one of his hoodies that smells clean, maybe out the laundry recently, plus the book he’s halfway through with his little underlines. he’ll buy another one, suspect han for making it disappear because who else. you heard minho talking about wanting cats once. han wasn’t against it. sounds nice. hm, you’d be down to pet a cat right now. maybe on the way home.

the fucking rush after locking the door behind you makes your knees weak. holy fucking fucked pegged shit. men.

five, seungmin’s hellhole. balcony door was unlocked. dumbass. inside it’s takeout boxes and laundry mountain. you steal one of his best looking hoodies, a half used bottle of his body wash that smells aggressively masculine, and the pillowcase from his bed. smells like scalp. men. good.

you sit on his couch and imagine him jerking off(standard girl in love activity, actually)(like stop reading and take a moment to imagine the man jack it), then stand up and do a little spin, giggling tf around while clutching the pillowcase to your face. you feel like you could run a marathon and finger yourself at the same time.

day six, felix’s parents’ mansion. hardest one, had to wait until his parents were out and he was at a class.

you climb the tree, pop the window lock, climb into his room that smells like fucking heaven because of those flavored car batteries he sucks on plus the expensive ass cologne he sprayed on before leaving. you steal one of his college hoodies and the hentai body pillow he hides under his bed (you almost scream laugh when you find it).

you roll around on his bed for a solid five minutes, face buried in his pillow, legs kicking in the air, rubbing on your clit for a bit but not enough to cum, you heard something outside and even though you kinda knew it wasn’t a human, better not to risk it and lose one of the loves of your life. when you climb back down the tree you’re giggling so hard you nearly miss a branch.

in the car you’re screaming, fucking deadass crying punching the steering wheel because you’re so fucking happy.

seven, back to changbin and hyunjin again? no, you already did them. you saved the second round for overlaps but actually you hit chan again? nooo. you planned it, after the first pass you come back smarter, but this time you’re just riding the high. for the love of the game fr. actually you do a quick second hit on jeongin because his place called to you, steal another cig pack and one of his used condoms from the trash. giggle the whole way home.

there we go.

you sit in your apartment surrounded by the shit you got, your treasures quite fucking literally, hoodies on your bed, stolen socks, the lighter, the toothbrush, the dino boxers, the body washes, the cum stained t shirt, the body pillow, the grocery list, everything.

you’re horrible. spinning in circles in the middle of your living room with your arms out, one of the socks on your hand. fuck u so jolly about.

you haven’t laughed like this in your entire fucking life.

you love these stupid beautiful assholes.

you pull chan’s sweatpants over your face and inhale, then grab jeongin’s lighter and flick it on just to watch the flame while you cackle. you have never done dumb shit like this ever.

but it’s pink. rainbows. hearts. vibrators on max. girl.

you’re dizzy and horny and happier than any serial killer has any right to be because you’re a horrible person.

the feeling is…

everything.

you’re in love.

your apartment looks… fucking pathetic, to be honest with you. you really do need some fucking help. random men’s hoodies around the place, the socks, jeongin’s cig packs sitting on your nightstand next to the lighter with the dick, felix’s body pillow propped up on the couch (you say hi to her every morning), hyunjin’s body wash in your shower so you can smell like him while you fuck yourself. yeah we’re not talking about how many of those things have lived inside you by now. we’re definitely not talking about the nights you rode chan’s pants or used changbin’s toothbrush handle when you were too lazy to grab a toy.

anyways.

you truly, deeply, absolutely, surely love them.

it’s not just lust anymore. it’s pink. sweet. you love the men shit. the cute shit. the everything shit.

you love watching them touch each other. when they’re being boyish and friendly and rough. that’s so sweet when men do that. hyunjin pulling dirty laundry over changbin’s head then wrestling. chan clapping seungmin on the back so hard that you’d die if you were seungmin, then pulling him into a quick bro hug. jeongin throwing an arm around han’s shoulders while they’re walking to the car, ruffling his hair until han laughs and shoves him off. minho being pressed up to han’s side when sitting somewhere. felix passing a vape or a cig or whatever shit they ruin themselves with to hyunjin and their fingers brushing.

you see these and feel like you’re the one being touched. like their hands on each other are on you too.

you love how they move. how loud they are. how they look at each other across tables when they’re in public.

such friends. ones you never had. such boys. that never interested you until now.

you love when they’re on the game(average man activity). you’ve got a spot outside han and minho’s place where you can hear the yelling through the cracked window. han screaming while his legs kick in the air. minho grunting. once you zoned out and imagined those were the sounds of them fucking. unfortunately, wasn’t.

or at jeongin’s, where you can hear him saying disgusting shit. calling the others virgins and cucks and things he can’t say. or seungmin, either hyping minho up or telling felix to kill himself. felix doing a hundred things beside the game and still managing to play good. hyunjin’s tongue poking out when he focuses too hard. changbin dying, slamming a few things, then going over to hyunjin’s room to watch him play. chan is mostly quiet, he needs his mouth shut to pay attention to playing, can’t multitask like that. you learned that too.

you sit somewhere in the dark where you can see one of them from with your hand between your legs and feel fucking proud of them.

you love when they visit their parents. their parents are really different, each’s. you caught han nervously fixing his hair before heading to his parents’ place, then coming back and announcing to minho “dude my mom still thinks i’m a virgin lmao.”

they’re adorable.

seungmin’s visits are shorter, you hear him arguing with his dad through an open window but he still hugs him goodbye. jeongin gets to family barbecues drunk, always smiling, flirts with his own aunt by accident.

the others’ visits aren’t that interesting. felix lives with his parents, we know that. hyunjin’s parents are chill, kind of boring. changbin sometimes takes hyunjin with him. minho brings shit(though his cats aren’t the only thing purring when you see him play with them there) chan’s parents live in another country, you only can listen to the phone calls.

you follow them to the grocery store and watch what they buy. you sit outside the gym when they go lift together, peeking through the window as they spot each other, grunting, sweating, clapping hands. fucking pussy dripping. you follow them to the movies and watch jeongin throw popcorn at han’s head while hyunjin rests his head on minho’s shoulder.

you’re so in love it’s pathetic.

and like… you used to be empty. now you’re overflowing with emotions. just how you wish chan would flood you ;)

and now there’s this new feeling creeping in. one not so pink.

it’s… best way to explain it would be ice through your chest. a cringe thing to say but it’s the realest, maybe.

because they don’t know you.

they met you once in the woods, even only half of them met you there. they have no idea where you are now.

they don’t know your name. they don’t know you killed a guy at seventeen first and kept going because ending lives is the only thing that makes you feel(besides their cute asses now, or course). they don’t know you’ve broken into every single one of their homes and touched everything they own.

they think you’re just some random girl who already went away

it hurts. you want them to know you.

everytime one of your boys so much as looks at a girl, you have to kill. jealousy. the sudden urge to dig another hole in the woods. you tell yourself it’s because they’re your men, your boys. you watched them first. you have their hoodies and their shirts and their fucking toothbrushes. those girls are just temporary. shit that needs to be silenced.

and good thing you’re a serial killer, right?

good thing for you.

bad fucking news for any bitch who’s not you.

jeongin is the worst offender. he brings girls home like a revolving door fr. you watch from a fire escape while he grinds against some random club girl against the wall, she moans his name, his flawless dimples are out as he smiles. the dimples that are supposed to make an appearance for you. you see his hands on her waist, see him laughing into her neck, see him fuck her fast and her face not facing him because it doesn’t mean anything. afterward he offers her a smoke, and you have to throw up.

you hate her.

you hate the way she touches him. you hate her voice, her hair, her body, her face, her everything.

so you follow her.

easy. she’s drunk, stumbling out of jeongin’s building at night with a post fuck glow that makes you want to carve it off her. you follow her, remember where she lives. two nights later you sneak in and hit her once with the shovel, right to the temple. the bag you brought is big enough. you zip her up still warm, drag her out the same way you dragged your last body, load her into the trunk while humming some song changbin was singing while cooking last week. woods again. deeper this time. hole bigger than usual because you want to insult her a little.

you go back to jeongin’s place the next night, he’s on the phone with the boys, laughing about how the girl from last weekend “ghosted him” and how he’s already eyeing someone new at the club.

you’ll end her too. it’s always going to be the same end, that he’s safe again. he’s yours again.

you catch felix flirting with a girl at the mall once. she giggles, touches his arm. you follow her home too. another bag. another trip to the woods. you bury her shallow because you’re in a hurry to get back and watch felix game with the boys, listening to him complain that “girls never text back”

you would. immediately.

hyunjin and changbin bring a couple girls to a group hangout once. nothing serious, just friends of friends, but you watch as one of them sits close to hyunjin, laughing at his jokes, whatnot. you would do the same, he’s beautiful. three days later she disappears after a yoga class. they never find the body. hyunjin is unbothered.

seungmin hooks up with some girl who calls him “daddy” and he laughs at it. oh? fuck you “oh”ing about, you hate it. you follow her to her car after she leaves his place, bash her skull, stuff her in the trunk of her own car, drive it out to the woods yourself.

chan doesn’t bring many girls home usually, though one night you watch a tall brunette leave his apartment at sunrise, she makes it two more days before you catch her jogging and choke her.

han doesn’t get bitches. girls talk to minho but he never goes anywhere with them.

han could pull you. already did, if we think about it. and you’d take minho out.

you love them.

you really, really love them.

and love means keeping them safe from anyone who tries to take even a second of their attention.

that’s only natural.

so everytime another girl smiles at one of your boys, everytime she touches what’s yours, everytime she exists too close, you pick up the shovel.

what you also began to pick up on is where do the boys usually hang out. you know each’s full schedules now.

you’re following them on the street now, after one of their little bro nights. men are so cute. hood up, one of jeongin’s stolen cigs between your lips even though you don’t smoke, just like the imagine of the taste of his mouth on it.

the eight of them are loud as usual, taking up the whole sidewalk, fucking asshole men and not noticing themselves. assholes. hyunjin and changbin are bumping into each other on purpose, han’s in the middle fidgeting with his phone, felix and chan smoking something together, passing it back n forth, jeongin walking backwards trying to talk to minho who just gives him a middle finger.

then. some other guy group rounds a corner. about seven guys, typical dumbasses, they’re quieter. one of them clips chan hard, shoulder to shoulder.

“excuse me bro.” the guy mutters.

“excused.” chan says. clear, wanting to sound like an asshole.

the dude turns around like chan just called his mom a whore, grabs chan by the hoodie, yanks him back hard enough to make his feet skid. hits him. chan ducks though, punch goes past his ear. wow. hot. and also pretty fucking concerning, watch out sweetie.

han’s dumb little ass tries to step in with a confused little “yo what the fu—” and catches an elbow straight to the cheek from one of the other guys. he stumbles, hand flying to his face. it’s adorable. “dude i didn’t do anything! what the fuuuck!”

oh but no worries, seungmin immediately swings on the guy that hit han. but then we also have to keep in mind that seungmin is not that strong at all, so changbin can’t help but help him out with another hit.

jeongin drops his cig, smiles, glee as he swings on the biggest one. dumbest fuck on the planet. oooh by then hyunjin is dodging. makes his hair bounce, pretty. can’t land any hit tho, doesn’t even try to. and minho is just too manly to not do at least a little good.

little.

felix is… trying to turn away. pussy. gets yanked tf back.

okay. wow. you follow it as it moves into a little side street, alley almost. bodies slamming into dumpsters, trash bags splitting open, someone’s shoe flying.

fucking men. only they’re this animalistic to do this. dumb.

god they look hot fighting tho.

you’re dripping wet. chan’s shirt rides up everytime he throws a punch, the way that man’s muscles move. jeongin’s laughing with a split lip. he’s gorgeous. hyunjin moves like a dancer, quite fucking literally(with evil in his heart, men are evil). changbin’s protecting han, throwing himself between. fucking respect. seungmin hits just for fun. minho actually manages. han is whining “guys i’m fine, ow fuck—” blood comes from his nose. felix… is having the worst night of his life. it’s so fucking hilarious you have to bite your fist.

they’re not winning tho.

seungmin takes a solid hit to the jaw that snaps his head back. jeongin’s on the ground for a second before rolling away. hyunjin’s perfect lip is bleeding. changbin’s shielding han but catching kicks. chan’s breathing hard. felix keeps getting yanked back. minho is the last one standing tall but even he’s slowing.

you want to, but you don’t interfere. this is their fight. their stupid boy moment. their chance to be loud and dumb and protective of each other. you want to see them like this, bleeding, these looks aren’t crossed off your list yet. you want to watch. the punches, grunts, when one of them checks on another midfight (“you good han?” “fuck off i’m fine”).

“you’re getting your ass kicked!” that’s jeongin, then gets yanked backwards. “okay, i’m getting my ass kicked—”

felix is on the ground, back against the wall, arms up trying to shield his head. rich kid. the guy on him brings a fist back, real heavy, about to turn felix’s skull into red paste on the bricks.

your body moves, your brain doesn’t even know about it. that’s for not interfering. belt. gun. into your palm.

bang.

one shot. right through the side of the guy’s head.

dude drops instantly.

felix lets out the most pathetic, girly yelp you’ve ever heard. “FUCK—holy shit what the fuck—” he scrambles backward on the wall on his ass, legs kicking, so scared, staring at the body and then up at you.

suddenly the guys don’t want trouble. “yo what the fuck—” “we’re good, we’re good—” “cops, man, fuck this—” they go real quick. tripping over each other.

the alley goes dead quiet. well, if we don’t count the heavy breathing and the drip of blood, maybe.

your boys are standing there bleeding, bruised, staring.

you’re shaking.

your lips are trembling. the gun is trembling in your hand. your knees feel like they might give out any second. dizzy.

hyunjin… smiles. chuckles. stumbles over, blood on his split lip, eyes big. “hey… hey it’s you.” he reaches up slowly, brushes the hair out of your face with shaking fingers, then tilting your head so he can see you better. “hi. hi. talk to me. hey, look at me. you okay? talk to me, please.” he can see you’re not okay.

his other hand comes up to hold your gun wrist, his big, warm palm wrapping around yours to keep the trembling gun in it’s place. he would never take that gun from you.

chan wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, the pieces click in his perfect, genuinely perfect head. steps closer, keeps a respectful distance, more cautious though. you just shot someone. “alright. oh, uh, this is the girl hyune ran into that night in the woods. remember? whatever.” he glances at the body, then back at you. “you good?”

your lips are shaking, trying to open your mouth to answer. acting a bit too good.

changbin’s cute little mouth takes an o shape as he realizes. seungmin spits blood on the ground, proccesses. that’s for the guys who “met” you already.

jeongin? chest heaving, watching. minho? same. han? don’t be stupid, barely standing straight. felix, still on the ground, ass in a puddle, staring at the dead guy next to him. “what the fuuuuuuuck.”

jeongin finally finds his voice. “headshot.” yeah staying quiet would have been nice too, babe.

hyunjin holds your face. “hey, ignore them for a second. look at me. just talk to me, okay? tell me what’s going on in that pretty head. you’re trembling so bad, got you. it’s okay.”

your lips won’t stop shaking. all eight of them are looking at you.

good girl, y/n.

gooooood fucking girl.

that’s how you get something you want.

“i didn’t… i didn’t hurt any of you, did i?” you mumble out. c’mon, you could have easily answered to hyunjin, didn’t on purpose.

they all shake their heads.

“we’re good. you just… saved felix’s stupid head.” hyunjin says. “what’s your name? tell me your name.”

“y/n…”

chan steps closer, shrugging off his jacket. he trusts you more now, obviously. it’s warm from his body, has the smell you’ve jerked off to more times than you can count. he drapes it over your shoulders, big hands adjusting the collar. “here. keep it. looks better on you anyway.”

he means that to make you smile. it does, just not with the lips on your face.

han(sweet, grateful, still bleeding from the nose) comes up to you too and and wraps his arms around you in a biiiiig hug. crushes you, kinda. he obviously doesn’t hug(or touch) girls often. but like. oh?

you lean into him, let him hold you, fucking MILKING it, forehead pressing into his shoulder. he smells good.

“thank you. thank you so much. seriously.” he says. “i thought my face was about to get rearranged. thank you.”

the face hyunjin makes because he just got pushed away from you.

felix is standing up just now, brushing dirt off his ass, legs wobbly. it’s okay, baby.

you’re shaking harder now, but from them. this close. han’s arms around you. his body on yours. chan’s jacket on you. that you’re the center of their attention.

they have no idea you’re a major creep who’s been stalking their every move for weeks.

they have no idea the shaking is because you’re standing in the middle of your eight crushes and your pussy is throbbing so hard you’re scared they’ll smell it.

to them you’re just y/n. the woods girl. their savior.

“my—my name’s hyunjin. by the way. i’ve been thinking about you since the woods.” okay mr loverboy. attached asf. “lean on han if you need to. thank you.”

han keeps one arm around your waist, hand pressing into you so he’s really holding you, keeping you up against his side, bouncing you lightly. “got heeeer.” now you get why they call him by his surname.

changbin nods. “yeah, seriously. han’s got you. i, uh, i’ll grab water from the car. felix, stop pacing, you’re making her dizzy.”

felix mutters “sorry” but keeps doing little anxious circles anyway.

“shut the fuck up, bin.” chan says. mean daddy. “she’s probably in shock. y/n, you want us to walk you somewhere? call someone? or… shit, you wanna come back to one of our places and sit down for a minute?”

they really do want you to know they’re grateful.

only if they knew.

han squeezes you tighter, better, turns his head to look at your face, his cheeks are pink. both at the closeness of a girl, something he doesn’t usually get, bitchless little asshole, and at the fact that all this just happened to him. you want to bite them.

you’re dizzy. lips trembling. they can see that. all of them can. all are looking.

finally looking at you.

finally touching you.

finally grateful.

jeongin takes a big breath, fishes a cig out of his pocket. offers it to you with shaky fingers. “want one? helps with the nerves sometimes. or… nah? cool, cool.” he lights it for himself instead.

they’re all over you. making sure you’re okay. making sure you know they’re grateful as fuck.

you’re dizzy. crazy.

“uh, okay, shit, alright.” chan says, looking around. “we’re not leaving a fucking corpse in the middle of downtown. bin, seungmin, lix, do something about it.”

seungmin throws his skinny arms up. “the fuck? why me? fuck off.”

changbin throws his hands up too. he’s adorable. “broooo! what if i puke? what if i cry? i’m sensitive! i was just about to bring her water!”

felix keeps shaking his head. “no no no, i have to go home! my mom’s gonna kill me! i’m literally the weakest link here, you saw me get handled like a bitch the whole fight!” poor boy he was so scared that he couldn’t talk until now, couldn’t talk to you, to any of them out of shock, and now his words have to be defending himself :(

“okay, jeongin then.”

jeongin’s hands fly up, burning cig in one. “dudeee! what the fuck, man?! i throw up when i see ketchup packets open wrong! i’m delicate!”

chan rolls his eyes. sassy. “do it.”

seungmin grumbles the entire time, calling everyone “pussies” and “useless cumrags” while he starts searching for helpful shit with aggression. changbin is whimpering “i’m gonna throw up, i’m gonna throw up” as he holds the legs. felix keeps trying to “guys my parents love me, they’ll notice if i come home smelling like death, please—” himself out of it until hyunjin turns and tells him he’ll tell felix’s dad what happened. felix shuts up and grabs an arm, muttering “this is bullshit.”

changbin mutters “i’m telling my mom you made me do this.”

“go.”

“what if i just supervise?” felix.

“dude, just… do it.” jeongin mutters, given up.

chan sighs. “we’ll walk y/n home. text the gc when it’s done and don’t fuck it up.” turns to you, voice changes to angelic. “c’mon, y/n.”

the four of them look crushed because wdym chan did this to them, made them do this then left with the bad bitch. (oh chan would’ve taken you only with him but he knows he couldn’t make hyunjin, han and minho also stay away.)

but the other four are already walking you out. around you. manly. about you.

han hasn’t let go of your waist(through chan’s jacket) the whole time, just so that you’ll stay upright. he’s worried. you seemed so unstable before, he has to hold you, right? he doesn’t want you to fall over, get hurt.

you’re leaning into him, eyes basically bout to close from bliss.

chan looks cute, just walking, hands in pockets, looking down then up. “you, uh, always carry that gun around? haha.”

“yeah… i just… got it after some bad shit happened. never thought i’d actually use it.” lie. smooth as butter. “i don’t like hurting people but… he was gonna smash your friend’s head in. i just reacted.” you almost said felix’s head. almost slipped. didn’t. gonna reward yourself later with a sweet treat or fucking yourself with changbin’s toothbrush again.

hyunjin is walking backwards so he can keep looking at you. he shoves his phone into your hands, screen on to add contact. “put your number in, hm? don’t want you to disappear again.”

oh. okay. wow. what a romantic. you don’t even know what to answer.

you take it, type yourself in with trembling fingers. he grins(that beautiful hyunjin grin) when you hand it back, immediately texting you a little heart emoji so you have his number too. hello??

han bounces you again. “here, wait.” he fishes his out and holds it under your nose. “i wanna be able to check on you.“

WOW. you add your number. he saves it as y/n.

then, oh, a phone is poked under your arm from behind. you glance back and minho gives you a tiny tiny smile, eyes adorable. aww. you add your number too. he takes the phone back without a word, right corner of his mouth twitches up. bitch kinda autistic but bad asf.

chan opens his mouth, doesn’t have the balls to ask for your number too. will ask for it from the others. “oh, uh, that’s minho. anyway, you saved felix back there. changbin, buff one, is also there. longer one’s seungmin,” longer one, pfft. “and jeongin. you already know hyunjin. uh, han.” han turns his face into yours to smile at you. “i’m chan. or chris. whatever.”

“you guys seem… really close. it was kinda nice seeing you all stick up for each other.” you’re doing amazing, y/n.

hyunjin runs his fingers up your arm once. he knows women like that. he knows how to use himself. “and then you saved us. my hero.” cringe. romantic. makes your knees weak.

“yeah, thanks.” minho mutters.

you can’t believe this is happening.

these are the boys you’ve been stalking for weeks. the ones whose hoodies you sleep in, the ones you’ve watched jerk off, scratch their asses, visit their moms. and now they’re all over you, talking bout some you’re their hero. ha.

“i’m glad none of you got hurt too bad. i just… reacted.” you manage.

hyunjin tilts his head charmingly as he sighs. acting, just like you are, except he really does feel overwhelming love, just using tricks he learned over the years. “you reacted perfectly. now you’ve got our numbers. use them. text me, okay? i’ll worry otherwise.”

han squeezes your waist. “same. and if you need anything, y’know, ride, food, someone to talk to, just say the word.“

you can’t believe this is real.

like this is actually fucking happening?? you’re fucking shaking, trembling not to turn and jump into minho’s arms or whatever.

when you finally reach your building han gives you one last gentle bounce and a tight hug. he’s physical. “text us when you’re inside, okay? don’t disappear.”

hyunjin leans in, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. doing a bit too much for just meeting you. on purpose. “goodnight, y/n. thank you, again.”

only one that knows about your little ex story. well, that’s fake, but still, only one. and still he be doing toooo much but you’re too in love to process it as anything but charming.

chan claps your shoulder lightly. “get some rest.”

minho nods, mouth pulled into a tiny line. he’s adorable. little meow meow. “goodnight.”

you wave with shaky hands, and mind you, they’re waiting for you to go in. real men asf not leaving until you’re safe for sure. han is smiling, wide, boy, hyunjin is waving, tilting his head, angelic, chan and minho are chatting.

apartment door shuts. okay. you have to get up to your floor. shit. your legs are shaking.

you manage.

the second your door shuts behind you, you slide down to the floor, breathing hard, having to squeak. cry. smile. laugh. scream. slam yourself into something.

it’s an unbearable feeling. it actually feels bad, no matter how good you feel, it’s so much that it’s torture.

phone pings.

hyunjin: heyy it’s hyunjin, you home safe?

han: did u make it?? u were so shaky lol

han: im hwn

han: han

han: soery

han: you can also call me jisung if u want :)

chan: this is chan. u kay?

minho doesn’t text. pussy. stares at chan’s phone over chan’s shoulder tho. and of course, you don’t have their names pre saved, we’re just signaling that you know who’s texting. save them later as their names though.

this is actually happening.

all eight end up having your number eventually.

you’re not used to this. you’re used to watching them from shadows, not having them reach out.

you’re actually wanted. each notif of your phone is a tiny electric shock straight to your clit and your stupid heart.

and god they be texting JUST to text.

chan: my jacket looks better on u than it ever did on me lol hahaha u keeping it?

or shit like

chan: heyyy u eat yet today? i’m grabbing food rn u want anything i can drop off

chan: that was wild what u did. still thinking about it. thx. u good tho? fr

they’re angels.

minho: hi it’s minho

minho: u ok?

minho: thanks for stepping in

minho: text me if u need anything. seriously.

changbin: hey it’s changbin!!🥰 thanks again for saving lix seriously!!

changbin: u looked cute in channie’s jacket btw. u keeping it? u can have mine too if u want

boi NOT subtle but atleast cute with his little emojis.

changbin: we were talking about u earlier.

changbin: all good things promise

changbin: 😊

he’s a BABE. you would usually fucking block a man for using emojis but you know him (even if he doesn’t know that) and he’s so sincere that it turns you on.

hyunjin: heyy

hyunjin: i was thinkinh about u today

hyunjin: u sleep okay after everything?

hyunjin: miss seeing ur face alrdy. when u free?

han: y/n u awake?? u were so cool but also u were so shaky i’m worried lol

han: osrye

han: *sorry

han: sorry lol

felix: heyyy i’m felix u shot the guy on me

felix: i didn’t thank you then

felix: but seriously tysm i owe u my life fr

felix: how are u?

he just wants to talk.

seungmin: hey

seungmin: i was w the boys i’m seungmin

he was biting his nails shaking while he wrote that.

seungmin: u need anything let me know

the only reason the messages aren’t full of typos because he reread them a hundred times before sending because he wanted to look good. with the boys he’s all typos and doesn’t care.

jeongin: heyyyeyey i’m innie from the alley

jeongin: u free this weekend?

STRAIGHT to the point.

every single text makes your hands shake so bad you have to set the phone down and breathe. you’re shocked every time. actually shocked. they’re texting you. voluntarily. with dumb excuses. because they want to talk to you.

you have to sit down when hyunjin texts “thinking about you” or when chan offers to pick you up for coffee “no pressure but i wanna see that pretty face again.” you press their hoodies to your face and squeak into the fabric because this can’t be real.

you don’t know this yet, but they feel the same for you. well, not as hard, but they also have crushes on you.

charmed out of their boy minds. they talk about you constantly when they’re together. you’re always the topic. they’re just boys with crushes because you were badass.

little example, one night at chan’s place they’re all around when jeongin goes “bros i’m not even joking i played with myself aaaall night long thinking about y/n and that gun. came twice.“ oh they’re COMFORTABLE.

han and felix immediately start hugging each other on the floor, giggling and squealing. GROWN ASS MEN.

seungmin throws his head back, raking his nails down his face. “step on me dude.”

changbin leans forward. “she smelled so nice too.”

han falls forward. “SO NICE.”

they keep doing this. they want you around. they want to check on you, feed you, make you enjoy them, fuck you, hold your hand, make you their girl.

they’re charmed. that’s the best word. you charmed them.

take han, his little pathetic ass giggles and bites his fingers whenever he sends you a selfie. others the same but some of them used to be confident with girls. what happened??

you can’t believe they’re this into you. this is real. they like you back. all eight of them. you used to chase them and now they’re chasing you.

but the thing is, they’re so biased, so… dumb, so simple, that they simply don’t mind when you do end up doing something creepy. like oh, the gun was just a one time thing. they totally gotta be gentle with you, according to their logic. like hey u a little scary but that’s cute they want to pet you.

you do sick shit right in front of their faces and it doesn’t register to them. once you were meeting hyunjin and changbin for coffee (their idea) some loud ass guy at the next table was an ass then started loudly hitting on girls when changbin went to take a piss(bc the guy obviously didn’t have the balls to do it while changbin was there, and hyunjin didn’t seem threatening enough to him). you stood up, grabbed the guy’s scalding hot coffee, and poured it straight down the front of his pants.

poor changbin just came back and his pretty mouth fell open.

hyunjin pulled you back. “y/n that was mean… but like he did deserve it.”

they didn’t mind.

another time you headbutted some random guy so hard his nose exploded, then kneed him in the balls twice for good measure. he was provoking you, whatever.

chan looked at you with those dumb man eyes. “you okay? your forehead good?”

han was bouncing on his toes.

another time some weird, sketchy, most likely on drugs guy tried to talk to felix. you ripped the guy’s own knife out of his waistband, stabbed it through his hand pinning it to a wooden fence.

felix yelped (of course). seungmin actually clapped. smiled ear to ear.

you were at chan’s place for a movie night when han accidentally spilled soda on felix’s lap. felix joked “y/n would’ve shot me for that.” you deadass pulled the gun out of your bag, pointed it at felix’s forehead.

dead silence for half a second.

then they started squealing at how cute you are.

they’re this dumb.

anyways, the nine of you hang out now. they don’t notice shit. they definitely don’t notice that everytime you go over to their places you’re stealing more shit for yourself.

you “fall asleep” on chan’s couch during a movie so you can stay the night. while he’s sleeping you go through his drawers, steal a pair of his boxers, and take a photo of his search history on his laptop (“how to tell if a girl likes you”). you also lick the rim of the beer bottle he left on the nightstand. he wakes up, sees you curled up next to him, chuckles to himself(take a moment to imagine it, that’s dada) drool practically dripping about you, and goes back to sleep. the man ever.

you help hyunjin and changbin “clean” and end up alone in hyunjin’s room for ten minutes, you steal his hair from his hairbrush (you put it in a little ziplock you fucking psycho), sniff his pillow so hard you almost pass out, and another pair of socks. couldn’t find used ones. when changbin walks in you’re just sitting on the bed looking innocent. he’s mesmerized.

han lets you play his video games in his chair. that’s so cute. he goes to pee and you take photos of his search history too. (“how to ask a girl to sit on your face without sounding weird”) then you end up sitting in his lap in the chair. he bounces you, innocently. though there is a tension there, it’s mostly cute. (you’re slipping his used tissue out of his pocket and into yours)

then while minho is in the shower you go through his laundry and steal multiple things. you two talk after it like nothing happened, you’re just too good.

jeongin’s phone has face id. you had to pay extra attention to his code. got it tho. while he’s passed out drunk you go through it take a photo of every nude he’s ever sent.

but oh you know how to use men’s lust. so he wakes up hungover and sees you wearing his shirt, that was on purpose too. “you look good in my clothes, babe. keep it.” he has no idea you spent twenty minutes sniffing the inside of his dirty laundry basket and rubbed one out during.

same shit with the others. you’re unbelievably good at distraction. they’re all so charmed they don’t see that you’re fucking sick in the head. they don’t see this, they don’t see that, and they especially don’t see you licking blood off your fingers when one of them gets a papercut.

to them you’re just the protective little y/n who sometimes does crazy shit but it’s “so cute when she gets like that.”

dumb fucks.

you’re a major creep, a certified weirdo, and a full blown psychopath, robbing them blind, but they’re too busy being hypnotized, charmed, to notice any of it.

they’re developing brutal crushes on you. not just horny crushes (though there’s plenty of that), they genuinely like you. they think you’re sweet, pretty, funny in your own way, and the fact that you’re creepy… they be turned ON.

one of your favs is how felix acts. his parents love you so they leave you two alone sometimes in the house, those times you usually sit in felix’s lap while he’s at his desk, headset on, playing.

you love feeling him get harder and harder, knowing he’s trying to focus on the game. he whimpers into the mic once and mutes himself so fast.

after the round he always pulls his headset off, face flushed, not knowing what to do. you always tell him he did good. once he actually had to go out for a smoke just because you got him feeling that much.

you also discovered that minho really likes your hand on his thigh. like daddy gets turned on. you keep using that. he’s dying to bend you over.

and oh, was this even a doubt, you keep killing for them.

whenever some stupid bitch or asshole gets too close. last week a girl at the bar kept buying jeongin shots and touching his arm. like you can’t blame her, he’s the dream man, but you still followed her to the bathroom, smashed her head into the sink until she stopped moving, then left her there.

you killed a girl who kept flirting with hyunjin and changbin. another who sent felix nudes on discord. a cashier that rung seungmin up with a flirty smile. another one that han accidentally looked at on the street. (tf, too much y/n, too much.) you’ll keep killing anyone who tries to take even a second of them away from you.

but deep down you’re all such pussies. all nine of you. they like you. a lot. but tell you? never. pussies. can’t grow the balls. and you’re the biggest pussy of all, you’re crazy in love, but you couldn’t tell them if your life depended on it.

you’re at han’s and minho’s place on a random night. han is in the bathroom shaving, door open because we know they’re comfy with you. he’s standing there in just sweatpants, chest a little little hairy but the point is that there’s no shirt, dragging the razor over his jaw. cutie.

“you’re gonna cut yourself if you keep making that face.” you mumble.

han smiles at you in the mirror, breathtakingly beautiful, foam on his upper lip. “then you gotta kiss it better, y/n.”

and this is what we just talked about, he gets shy. he wants to say more, you can see it, but he chickens out and goes back to shaving.

you end up being all over minho at the end of that day. just sitting with him. on him. whatever. he wants to tell you he likes having you here. he doesn’t. pussy.

another night you’re at felix’s house, on your stomach on his bed. his mom made cookies and felix brought the whole plate up for you. you’re eating them while felix plays on his expensive ass setup across the room. he keeps glancing over. it’s cute. you two are a great match. this CRAZY bitch and her loser little boyfriend.

“these are really good.” you tell him. “tell your mom thank you.”

“she likes you. keeps asking when you’re coming over again.” he wants to say i like you too, instead he just scratches the back of his neck and says “stay as long as you want, okay?” he’s beautiful.

you hang out at jeongin’s and he makes you sit on his lap while he rolls a cig. he wants to tell you he’s catching feelings, that it’s not just his dick talking. he chickens out and offers you the cig instead. you always decline. he likes that. strokes your hair like chan does sometimes when you fall asleep with them.

but oh, they’re not stupid. well… they are, but not completely. allat shit they didn’t notice had to catch up sooner or later. you carried that gun like it was a purse. you never seemed scared.

at first they brushed it off. but one night at chan’s place, after you left, the eight of them got into this thing we humans feel sometimes, this you can tell anything rn to your friends, so they kinda go with the feeling while passing around a blunt.

jeongin took a hit, exhaled slowly. “…yo. be real with me. y’all ever think y/n might’ve actually killed people before?”

silence.

then han let out a nervous laugh. “dude. what the fuck. why would you say that?”

“because that guy in the alley, she… didn’t react. looks like she does that shit on the regular. i mean it was hot or whatever but still.”

felix shifted uncomfortably. “i mean… she saved my life. i’m not complaining. but yeah. i’m not saying she’s out here murdering people but… yeah.”

changbin nodded. hummed. adorable little noise.

chan leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “look, if she really is… you know… doing shit… she’s doing it for us.”

hyunjin kept his mouth shut about the little ex story of yours he still thinks is true.

seungmin sighed. stopped the breath. sighed again. “i don’t know man… she scares me sometimes. but not in a bad way. it’s fucked up. like… hot.”

minho and changbin hummed. han looked around, kinda creeped.

they all looked at each other, a little freaked, a little hard, a lot confused.

jeongin looked… really boyish, inexperienced, suddenly. “but… she’s y/n. if she’s killed people… i don’t think i care.”

it’s… nasty. like that’s the best word, nasty, or sad, kinda. they kinda get off on the danger, knowing you might be a murderer makes you powerful in their eyes, it makes them feel chosen. protected. dominated. like they’re the center of your violent little universe.

it feeds their egos. hard. it turns them on because it’s taboo, because it’s fucked up, because deep down some of them have that same fuckedupness(so not a real word) they’ve never admitted out loud. they’re all a little sick in the head, after all, just not as much as you are. like they’re playing with fire and the fire wants to fuck them.

they don’t mind.

which brings us to that night on the dark street next to the forest. it’s just you, seungmin and hyunjin. you three were walking back from grabbing food when some random drunk asshole stumbles out of the trees, clearly fucked up, and starts running his mouth.

you clearly didn’t like that. your demeanor changed so fast. there we go, here it was again. it usually happens like this, when your real personality and the act switch. it happens fast, really… noticeable.

that’s how he got his face slammed into the nearest tree trunk with brutal force by you. once. twice. blood sprayed. guy screamed. you kneed him in the stomach, then when he doubled over you stomped on the back of his knee so hard something snapped.

seungmin and hyunjin froze.

the guy was on the ground groaning, bloody, pathetic when you stopped. it was okay. everything was okay now, right?

hyunjin’s voice (barely)came out quiet. “…y/n.” he swallowed hard. his heart was pounding. part of him was terrified. the bigger part was so turned on he felt dizzy. he wanted to see it. needed to see it. “just kill him. do it.”

seungmin’s eyes widened. he looked freaked, at hyunjin because dude what the fuck, then back at you, mouth opening but nothing came out. the way you looked right now… turned him on. he felt sick. he felt alive. in danger. he felt like he was watching porn.

you pulled the gun out, clicked something on it, pressed it to the back of the guy’s head, and pulled the trigger.

bang.

the body slumped.

silence.

hyunjin and seungmin stood there with their hands over their mouths, eyes wide. scared, terrified. traumatized, definitely.

you turned to look at them, gun now looser in your hand, face slowly softening back into that familiar shaky expression that you have shown them a hundred times now.

hyunjin stepped to you, always going to you. his knees felt weak but he caught you when your own legs buckled.

the adrenaline, the release, the fact that they saw you, fucked you up. your hands started trembling. you had the audacity to act like this. you sick fuck.

“fuck… y/n.” he whispered.

he was scared, he was horrified, but mostly he was so in love it hurt. you trusted them enough to show this. you killed for them without blinking. he felt ashamed. thrilled.

seungmin stood a few steps away, still covering his mouth. he was scared to death, really was, this wasn’t a game anymore. but the idea that you were this dangerous, that you were an actual threat, this loyal, this okay with it, it made him want to worship you.

hyunjin cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “it’s okay. we got you. we fucking saw.”

then he kissed you.

it was messy, not how good he usually kisses, he felt too much then to. he’d been dying to do it for weeks. his tongue pushed into your mouth almost at the very start of it, needy, he needed to consume the violence you just showed him.

you whimpered into the kiss, knees completely giving out. he had to hold you up with one arm around your waist, the other still cradling your face, your hands fisted in his shirt.

seungmin watched for a bit, shocked, terrified, traumatized. answer to that? grabbed your waist, spun you so hyunjin would have to get off you, and seungmin also kissed you. teeth, tongue, a little biting on your bottom lip because oh his fucking god. he loves his crazy bitch. but there was desperation. his hands were shaking as they gripped your hips, holding onto you. breathing, muttering “shit… shit…” between kisses.

hyunjin leaned in again, kissing the corner of your mouth while seungmin was still kissing you. then their lips met too.

a nasty, sloppy three way kiss. tongue. so much spit. heavy breathing. moaning into it.

hyunjin was whimpering softly into it, one hand still holding you upright, the other gripping the back of seungmin’s neck. he felt overwhelmed. protective for you, with pure lust. he couldn’t tell which was which.

he was terrified of what you were capable of. he was so in love he wanted to cry. he wanted to fuck you right next to the fresh body.

seungmin was obviously overwhelmed, kissing with his mouth always open and panting into it, one hand sliding down to grip your ass. or at least he hoped it was yours. okay, didn’t care. it was yours, though.

he felt disgusting for how turned on he was, he knew this was wrong, so wrong, but that only made it hotter. you killed a man in front of them.

for them.

tears were running down your cheeks from how much you felt, the love, the relief that they didn’t leave you, the genuinely fucking sick and disgusting thrill that they told you to do it.

it was too much, too new for you. everytime their tongues touched yours or each other you made a little sound, you had to, you were basically sobbing into the kiss. oh how that affected them.

hyunjin pulled back, panting on your lips, lost in this feeling. “fuck, y/n, what are you?”

seungmin didn’t pull back at all. he licked into your mouth again. “doesn’t matter. just… don’t stop.”

you didn’t.

this was it. they knew. they saw. and they kissed you anyway.

the news spread fast. the second they got the group together (after helping you hide the body and washing the blood off your hands, normal couple shit), they told the others everything.

told them you did it, that they told you to, that you no hesitation did it, that you’ve actually done this before(a lot, probably), that they couldn’t fucking help making out with you after.

they knew what you were.

they wanted you more.

so… your relationship with each of them developed, of course.

jeongin was just sooooo impatient!! couldn’t wait, couldn’t let the relationship develop, immediately poured all his emotions into being physical. which means, two nights after he heard the news he dragged you into his bathroom during a party at his place, locked the door, and pushed you against the sink. pretty little mouth open, panting. kissed you then. it was sloppy from the start, really was. tongue, teeth, him grinding on you, hands all over you, he smiled into the kiss. you make him unable to think straight.

two weeks later in chan’s kitchen with chan, you were walking with one of his hoodies from the laundry(to put it into your bag) when he walked in. he, wordless, backed you against the counter, urgent, big hands on your waist, and kissed you. quiet little groans and all, really human, really a desperate man. you couldn’t speak, that’s how much you were shaking, how new the emotions were. he kind of got that, had the suspicion that you had a problem with emotions. liked you the same. made him kiss you harder.

then. few days later hyunjin took you to a walk in the woods(why? felt romantic. trusted you not to kill him), held your hand the whole way, then pushed you gently to a tree and kissed you so softly at first it made you smile and your face crumble. you were fragile emotionally, collapses like these happened easily. it turned hungry fast, him whimpering into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, groping, loving, desperate. you two could barely part.

changbin took you on a drive in his nice car, omfg that car, parked somewhere, and just talked for hours to you. you kissed him there in the passenger seat, sweet, slow, lots of little pecks that turned into him licking into your mouth with a shaky moan. that was hot.

you almost fucked him right there, you weren’t far from it, but he was clearly nervous(though he felt the energy too) so you gave him more time.

felix was next. just fucking happy to be a mess. he invited you over, the usual, you sat on his bed, watched him play.

but the little dumb fuck just couuuuuldn’t behave. “i know what you did. hyune told us everything. and i… i… it’s, uh. not… bad.”

unsure fuck. it was obviously hard for him to get those words out. wanted to confess his love first place, this came out.

you ended up kissing him on his bed. he was shy at first, soft little pecks, then got into it better, sliding his tongue in even though he barely ever did that and wasn’t good at it. he whimpered the whole time. especially when you two laid back on the bed.

han was nervous. he invited you over when minho was gone and spent twenty minutes being a shy little fuck. obviously had a plan but missed the balls to act on it.

so you took it into your own hands, held his pretty face and kissed him. he wasn’t good at it, clumsy, inexperienced, giggling nervously into your mouth at first, but then melted into it.

you’re so scary. he likes you so much.

minho visibly started touching you more. wanted you even more then. you were at their place watching a movie, he waited until han fell asleep on the couch, then pulled you into his room, closed the door, and kissed you to half death.

his heart was hammering.

he really, really liked you. the exact way you were.

seungmin was… conflicted. if that’s the right word. after that night in the woods he got weird and distant for a few days, then showed up at your door.

you kissed him in your doorway, just missed him too much not to. he grabbed your face almost roughly while kissing you, obviously not about the kissing technique but about being close close close to you. he pushed you inside, kicked the door shut, kissed you against the wall. desperate.

group hangouts turned romantic. brutally intimate. kisses stopped being private, you’d make out with one of them in the kitchen while another watched. they started touching you more openly, and if the other saw that, he also had to touch.

jeongin hit first.

you were barely through his door when he dropped to his knees right there in the hallway. yanked your jeans down with shaky hands, acting like a fucking animal, fighting your panties off.

lil bitch hooked one of your legs over his shoulder while you were still standing and buried his face in your pussy. (bush or no bush, reader’s choice jeongin’s fine w anything, though it’s a bit more realistic for reader’s character to be shaven just for expecting something like this)

he loves pussy. genuinely loves it.

you got eaten the fuck out. like hello he sucked clit. moaned into you. where did he learn this from? (dumb question, you can trace his whole life back anytime)

you had to grip his hair to stay upright. he slipped two fingers inside you too, curling them, searching around, tongue flicking. you came standing.

only then did he stand, wiped his shiny chin with the back of his hand, and dragged you to his messy bed. (never makes it.)

little asshole was really in the mood but still nervous. he fumbled the condom twice before rolling it on. the sound he made then was adorable. after he finally pushed inside you he slipped out on the first thrust because he was shaking so bad.

“shit— sorry, fuck, you feel too good.” he hissed.

second try was better. he fucked you sooo good, deep, wanting you so bad, both hands on your thighs. came with the sweetest moans ever.

he felt blessed. laid with you, tangled in each other as aftercare, patted your hair and was all in his head about the fact that you kill people and let him bury his face in your cunt. boy be in loooove. like so in love that he allowed big amounts of physical touch, he never did that with any of his hoes before.

hyunjin was next, a few nights later. of course, he was the “first”, after all. deserved it. would have been the first to dick you down too if jeongin wasn’t this fucking impatient.

you were at your place. he found your vibrator by accident while reaching for something in your nightstand, and his eyes lit up. tongue poked out from between his plush lips, the way you love it so much.

then he smiled, beautiful, ear to ear. “well well, baby.” oh he’s experienced. and made for you. “can i?” he asked.

of course, hyunjin.

and laid back on the bed you were.

“let me see.” he whispered.

he took his time. stripped you, kissed down your body, pouring all the love he had for you since you made him fall in love in that forest, then clicked the vibrator on and pressed it to your nipples first.

had fun. had lots of fun with it, with you.

kept on teasing your nipples with his mouth, moved the vibrator down to your clit. lowest setting. when you started squirming around he turned it up, watching your face. unbelievably in love with you.

he kissed down your stomach, made you cum while laying his face on your thigh. he looked like an angel.

he is an angel. questionable morals, maybe, not a good guy at heart, but where does that matter to you.

when he finally fucked you, he kept telling you how perfect you felt. really meant it, even through the condom. your personality got him so unbelievably worked up. his hair fell into his face. it was beautiful. fucked you missionary while holding eye contact. sweet. attached, since the woods.

he held you for hours after, stroking your hair. felt lucky. so lucky it’s unable to be expressed by human words. another one not big on physical touch, great first twos, but it was so emotionally significant to him, you were, that he simply didn’t feel any discomfort.

oh chan waited until you were staying the night at his place. fingered you on the couch first while he kissed your neck. he was nervous too, his hands trembled when he laid you on his bed, when he took your shirt off.

when he finally fucked you in his bed it was manly. can’t stress this enough, this is a man. held your hands above your head, eyes locked on yours or where he was disappearing into you. truly a tummy flipping experience. he slipped out once, cursed under his breath, then slid back in with a low “there we go, sweetheart.” that alone barely made you cum.

afterward he held you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

this man gets hard thinking about how crazy you are. it makes protecting you and being protected by you feel like the hottest power exchange. he’s sick, pathetic.

minho was next. and loud. it was so wet, so wild, so physical. fucked you against the wall in his room while han was out. like it was that wild, typa wild where you two had to do it on the wall. like one hand around your throat. hello??? when he came he buried his face in your neck and let out this long, shaky groan in that baby little voice. yes sir.

he’s crazy for his genuinely fucked up girlfriend.

changbin was nervous. baby boy took you on another drive, parked somewhere dark, and before he even touched you he went “i’ve never… with someone like you… i don’t wanna fuck this up.”

you ended up in the backseat. he ate you out for so long you lost count of time, and he was moaning and whimpering the whole time, sounds nonstop.

“fuck you taste so good… can’t stop, baby, please let me keep going.” okay no complaint here.

he couldn’t stop making sounds. fucked you good, kept making little “ah fuck” and “you feel so good” sounds. he came so loud you had to cover his mouth. what if bigfoot hears and he’ll hurt hyunjin while fucking him??

changbin can barely bear with his big boy feelings for you. it feels so grown up and such a real life situation that he ends up being crazy in love, not a little crush anymore, this man can see his kids with you.

han… fucking hell, han. first you barely had his tip in your mouth for thirty seconds before he was whining “wait wait i’m gonna—” and shooting down your throat with the most pathetic, beautiful moan.

he was so embarrassed he hid his face in a pillow for five minutes.

when he finally fucked you he lasted maybe three minutes(came with a horrified “shit—oh, oh, sorry—“), trembling around, but he ate you out after.

he’s gotten better since that… kinda.

he’s in awe that someone as scary as you lets him touch you. it makes him grateful, like wdym you kill(so badass)(no han, not badass, a fucking crime) and willing to bounce on his dick. he’s the luckiest alive.

seungmin was soft and sensual and lowkey a bottom. your first time with him was slow and intimate, he let you take control, laid back while you rode him, hands roaming your body. worshipping, really. this man saw you kill.

he moaned so pretty, kept his eyes on you the whole time. couldn’t look away. when you choked him a little he came so hard his eyes rolled back and he cried out.

he’s surprisingly submissive once clothes come off. skinny hips bucking up desperately, letting you use him however you want. he feels safest with you being in control, your violence outside the bedroom makes him want to surrender completely inside it.

felix was such a pillow princess about it. last one to get fucked too.

your first time was on his fancy bed. he was so overwhelmed he kept saying “holy shit” and “you’re so hot” while you sank down on him. he was shaking. you pinned his wrists above his head and rode him until he was whimpering and moaning and crying out and other colleagues, whole body damp, begging you. when he finally came he kinda cried.

felix is lowkey terrified of you and that terror makes him so… submissive. he loves being at the mercy of his murderer girlfriend. he’s genuinely so in love with your personality that he brags about you to everyone and everything, he’s dumb, but not dumb enough to let it slip that his beautiful girlfriend murders people, so it’s safe. kinda.

it’s the fact that you’re this sick in the head. that gets them so crazy. well, it’s not just a kink, it’s psychological, it’s a man thing in their heads. they feel chosen, protected. wanted in a way no normal girl could ever want them.

you could kill anyone else in the world but you choose to be like this with them. you kill for them.

they acknowledge this.

makes them crazy in love. it makes them feel like their pure nature, which, all eight’s, is just pathetic little boys, after all. it makes the sex better, it makes everything more intense.

minho is the one you enjoy sex with the most. lowkey the autistic bad bitches of the group. so perfect match.

when you fuck it’s intense, animalistic, and both of you get so loud it’s embarrassing. you’re always moaning and screaming, nails digging into his back, telling him to fuck you harder while your eyes roll back. what that does to that man? gets him two times louder.

the first time you two really let go, han knocked on the wall with a “you guys okay in there???”

two weird intense people at each other. he matches that unsettling energy you have(except you’re true evil and he’s just a little weird but whatever). best dick. best connection. no contest.

but of course you still love the others just the same!!

sex or no sex, you would truly die for them.

okay, but sex. like jeongin is unreal with his fingers. one night he had you bent over the couch, two fingers in your pussy and one slowly working into your ass while he ate you out from behind. he was weeeeirdly good at it. patient, lots of lube, murmuring “relax baby, i got you.” it felt good but strange. you’d already came three times before so your body just tapped out after half an hour. you whined “innie… can’t… too much” and he immediately stopped, kissed your back, you told him another time when you’re not spent. instant agree from him. he’s such a eager pussy lover it’s ridiculous.

chan has brutal kinks. even the lightest one is how he likes fucking you from behind with a hand fisted in your hair, spanking you, hard, leaving marks. genuinely railing you.

one time he edged you for almost an hour until you were sobbing and threatening to stab him. he laughed at you.

careful with aftercare though, truly all about you.

they’re truly addictive, that’s exactly why you’re always just needy as fuck.

they’re helpless.

one afternoon chan’s on a serious work call on his couch. who cares, you drop to your knees between his legs and start mouthing at his dick through his pants.

he glares down at you, mutters “give me one second” into the phone, then mutes it.

“y/n i’m in the middle of a fucking meeting—” he growls, hand in your hair.

you look up at him, battling your eyelashes.

he folds.

chan always folds, this is very important.

he ends up fucking your throat while still half paying attention to the call. slaps you when you gag so you’ll stay quiet.

or like poor felix is studying for a big test, books everywhere, stressed as fuck. you crawl onto his lap, grinding on him, tugging at his shirt.

“lixie, please, need you.”

he’s sweating. “baby i have this test in two days— fuck— okay just… just real quick.” he ends up bending you over his desk, fucking you fast while trying to read his notes over your shoulder. it’s fucking hilarious. this guy’s whole existence is hilarious.

or hyunjin is painting in his room, focused, music, whatnot. you come in, tugging at his sleeve, whining.

“baby i’m in the zone right now—” is what he goes on about until you shove your hand down his pants and he drops the brush.

ends up fucking you against the wall, moaning into your neck. you and your loud men against the world.

han is the easiest. you don’t even have to ask. you walk into his room while he’s gaming, tug his hair(no like that’s really all it takes), and he immediately drops the controller. “okay okay— fuck— hi baby.” he whines out, already pushing your panties aside.

jeongin is usually down but sometimes he’s also on the game. you sit on his lap facing him, grinding, holding his face and trying to turn it towards you, and he has the audacity to keep playing?? yeah lasts about four minutes before he throws the controller. “you need it right now? yeah? c’mere.”

changbin will literally pause whatever he’s doing. “you need me baby? okay, come here, i got you.” he’s the most… pathetic is not even the right word, most down for you.

seungmin’s nonchalant ass is the same mentally, but not on the outside. you tug at his shirt while he’s on his laptop, whining. he grumbles “i’m busy, y/n” but two minutes later he’s got you bent over the couch anyway. can’t say no to you.

none of them can. especially minho. he’s another who never even denies you first place, he’s the luckiest man alive for having you, after all. (you’re having him)

they love that their girlfriend is this sick. they really don’t feel bad about it, they’re dumb boys, they have zero ethics for this.

even if you… you come back bloody sometimes.

not every kill, but it does happen. they freak out. like their beautiful girlfriend has blood on her, lots.

chan usually recoils, eyes huge. “jesus fucking christ y/n—” he presses the back of his hand to his mouth because he might throw up.

he’s a normal guy at heart. blood belongs on scraped knees and paper cuts, the shit this sweetie grew up with with his perfect little life, not covering his beautiful girlfriend.

hyunjin gags, turning his head away for a second. “baby… there’s so much, fuck, it’s in your hair.”

felix looks genuinely green. “i can smell it. oh my god i can smell it.” he has to sit down on the couch and put his head between his knees for a minute.

jeongin’s face twists in pure disgust. “you look like you took a bath in the dude. that’s… that’s a lot of blood, babe. holy fuck.”

changbin actually looks like he’s fighting tears from how grossed out he is. “we need to get you cleaned up right now. like right now. i can’t— i can’t look at it too long.”

seungmin runs his hands down his face(imagine the oh my fucking god bro picture), turning away.

han makes a high nervous sound and hides behind minho, peeking out. and minho, looks nauseous. actually turning his face away.

they’re all disgusted by the blood, deeply. it makes their stomachs turn and their skin crawl, blood outside the body is supposed to be something wrong, well this is wrong.

none of that disgust ever touches their love for you.

not even a little.

they’re disgusted by the blood, genuinely grossed out, they’re normal ass boys who grew up with moms who made them wash their hands before dinner. blood is supposed to stay inside bodies. but never once are they disgusted by you. not even a little.

you earned this devotion.

…you, also, kinda soft launched that you liked them since the woods. well, soft launched it by not telling the whole story, just that oh you did almost end up taking up on their offer and did see them and they were cute then then ooooh sometimes you saw them around but were too much of a pussy to walk up to them… sure. they told you they don’t care. that they’re not mad. anyways, you also told hyunjin that you didn’t actually bury an ex. that they were your first boyfriends. he took it so good.

they love your ass too much to get creeped out by this.

and now that we’re at the ass topic, hyunjin literally loves your ass.

he’s always groping you. not even sexually always, you’ll be standing in the kitchen taking to one of the others and he squeezes a greedy handful while walking past, on his phone, combined with a little kiss on the side of your head. or while you’re watching something. while you’re brushing your teeth. both hands full of your ass. happy boy. content boy.

he eats it serious asf too. loves having you face down, ass up, tongue buried deep in your asshole while he moans like he’s the one getting eaten out(oh, that’s… a nice thought. you two will explore that later too). he once ate your ass for almost forty minutes straight until you were shaking and crying into the pillow.

jeongin is a close second place there. he’ll smack it everytime you walk past.

“can’t help it baby, it’s right there looking at me.”

chan loves gripping it hard when he fucks you from behind, big hands holding you, sometimes spreading you open while he rails you, his eyes rolling back at the combined feeling of you around him and in his hands.

the others ranked would be changbin then, minho, seungmin, han and then felix but only because he’s such a boob guy that it completely overpowers it.

they’re men.

you’re a predator. like an actual fucking predator, not human in your mental senses. you could kill anyone, you’ve proven it. but you chose them. in their boy brains that’s the ultimate compliment, it gets them so going, so attached to you.

nothing could ever turn them off when it comes to you. not the fact that you confess that you killed for them before, not the way you steal their things, not when you get overwhelmed.

last one happens a lot. because just again, you didn’t have real feelings before them. you told them that already.

so your emotional system is fucked up. like barely functional, that fucked up. when too many feelings wake up at once it just crashes you the fuck out and activates a fight or flight in your body. you’re weird then. they still love you.

to demonstrate these lil crash outs, let’s say you’re at felix’s house, sitting on his bed while he’s lying next to you. on his laptop. you’re watching his side profile, the perfect little nose he got so lucky with, that he’s shirtless and this flawless looking(you don’t care that he’s dumb) and then it makes your heart ache. this overwhelming wave of love and obsession and disbelief that this dreamy unreal dickhead is yours. all of them are yours.

and this feeling gets so hard these times that you have to so something about it. in this case, your hand grabs his skinny arm, pure adrenaline and sadness in your inexperienced body.

you squeeze, hard, shaking it a little, tears spilling down your pretty cheeks.

“whoa, whoa, y/n. hey, hey what the fuck—” his deep voice cracks as he turns to you, like imagine the voicecrack, eyes wide. he looks so panicked, one hand hovering. he doesn’t know whether to hug you or call an ambulance. “baby what’s wrong? did i do something? are you hurt? talk to me.”

“eeeeeeeeeeee—”

“eee what??”

dipshit.

you keep squeezing his arm and vibrating.

he eventually just pulls you on top of him, arms wrapping around you. “okay. okay. you’re okay. i’m here. breathe or… keep doing this. that’s fine too.”

he almost shit himself from fear. this boy was genuinely made for you.

all of them were.

or like with hyunjin you’ll be cuddling and suddenly the love hits so hard you bury your face in his neck and squeeze him as tight as you can, squealing around.

hyunjin usually rubs your back. he loves when you do this on him, makes him feel needed.

chan lets you hit him those times, maybe it’ll help. never does. settles with caressing your back and arms until you calm down. dada knows how to handle you. his psycho gf.

minho is the best at it, absolutely. he hums to you, or when in bed, wraps his arms and legs around you. lets you shake and cry and make whatever noises you need to. it’s an amazing solution.

changbin just wants to provide for you then. gets worried every single time but calms down real soon because he knows you’ll calm down too, that you’re fine, that you’re just a little… new to this. he can offer you ice cream he bought only for you(saw it in movies, that’s why it’s so simple) and getting all eight of them in one bed. he’ll list shit he could do for you, not shutting the fuck up while you’re having a meltdown on his chest.

oh seungmin is just a softie for his sick little gf. you grabbed his shirt once and started shaking while he was trying to cook. he sighed, turned the stove off, and just pulled you to him. “you’re so fucking weird… c’mere.” he lets you cling to him until it passes.

han panics. han’s dumb. han tries his best tho. ends up just hugging you so tight you can barely breathe while making nervous little noises with you, rocking, bouncing you a little. the little bug he is.

jeongin finds it hilarious. even more adorable. you once climbed on top of him while he was playing something, grabbed his face with both hands and just stared at him intensely while tears ran down your cheeks. he paused the game immediately.

“well hello. you good or are we having another crash?”

you just nodded and kissed him stupid. he smiled into your mouth. you love the smell of his skin.

they know now that your brain literally didn’t have this much feeling before them. sometimes it’s love so strong it feels like pain. sometimes it’s fear that something will happen. sometimes it’s just pure overwhelming joy. sometimes it’s having to slap on hyunjin’s chest(he always takes it) and telling him to not go into the woods because bigfoot will fuck him(he never understands what you’re on about). sometimes it’s sadness and going crazy and having to rip your two arms off yourself then stumble into their chests.

and they deal with it so well. surprisingly well. that’s because they’re truly wired with you. crazy little connection y’all got there.

they never get tired of it either, if anything they seem proud bc c’mon they’re the ones who finally made the emotionless girl feel something. it feeds their egos. they did that. they cracked your heart open and… cracked you in general. lmfao.

they could never love you less.

never. ever.

you earned this for yourself. you made this. you got yourself this little harem.

and there is no other women for them now.

only y/n.

author’s note: me di un beso de tres tiktok trend on y/n hyunjin and seungmin NOW. also reader is a horrible person, never do this guys ever ever, i’m so serious. if you do shit like this you’re a creep. this is a story made for appeal and entertainment and was requested but doing it irl is seriously too much. anyways han part two is coming i’m sorry for the long wait for that :(

The two stood in front of your door, shoes off and instruments put down. Choso Kamo, Suguru Geto, in your living room with dim candles lit, brownies and a Youtube video of them playing on your laptop right now.

“…I take it you’re a fan?” You look at the deeper voiced man, Choso, who had an eyebrow raised at you. His eyes were so pretty… Nodding slowly, you move to quietly close the laptop.

“I am, yes. Um- if you’ll give me a second I can get you both some towels. I may have a few clothes you can borrow also.” You cough, Suguru looking around your apartment before his eyes landed on you. “That would be nice, yes. Can I have a brownie?” He gestures to the plate of chocolate goodness.

Your relaxing evening on full display. “Yes, but let me get your stuff first. Don’t want water to be tracked on my floors.” Rushing to grab the extra towels you had, you shakily look through your drawers for clothes. Luckily, you had a collection of big t-shirts.

After a brief moment of them stripping (without you looking), various apologies, drying off and ultimately showering while you put their clothes in the dryer. The moment finally hits you once Suguru walks back into the living room in your Kiss Angel band t-shirt from years ago- one of their earliest merchandise and a towel wrapped around his waist. “This is real.” You gasp.

“That it is, Angel. We’re sorry again for scaring you.” He sits in your love-seat, brownie in hand as he watches you. Looking over the man, it was interesting to see them not on stage or from your screens, and without makeup. Suguru had pretty clear skin, his long hair fully dried, cascading down his shoulders. You could spot his facial piercings, and the small tattoos he had peeking from behind his neck. “It’s..alright. Not everyday your favorite band wants to hide out from stalker fans.”

“We’re your favorites, huh? I couldn’t tell.” Tone dripped in sarcasm, the other man plops down on the couch with you. Towel and t-shirt on.

“I- well, yeah- but! I’m not too crazy, m’not gonna hold you hostage or anything. It’s raining a lot outside and people are following you.” You frown, “Seems pretty hard being a celebrity.”

“Comes with the job.” Choso shrugs, “But, it is really tiresome. The whole tour has been.” Suguru nods alongside his brother. You watch as the two converse back and forth, telling you how rough the last few tour stops have been while you all cleared the plate of brownies. “We’re planning on taking a hiatus for a bit.”

It felt unreal, and strangely comforting. Talking to them as if this was routine for you. Like you’ve known each other for years, and you were just a fan. “It doesn’t worry you being here? I’m a fan too. Could be crazier than the ones following you.”

Suguru hums in agreement, “Are you as crazy as they are, Angel?” A smirk forming on those pretty plump lips.

“Do you call all of your fans Angel?”

“Dodging my question, I see.”

“We’ll leave when the rain stops, if that’s okay?” Choso interrupts. His tired looking eyes land on Suguru before yours. “Ah you’re no fun.” Suguru waves him off. You found yourself giggling at the two. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

“Perfect…and for the record, I don’t call all of our fans Angel. I prefer princess for the pretty girls.”

“Princess?” and then silence fills the air. Candles lit. The smell of vanilla and soft caramel in the air. Wrapped in a blanket in only a t-shirt, Kiss Angel sitting in your living room in your shirts, the smell of your soap radiating off their bodies. Your towels around their waist. Warmth fills your body.

“As a thank you, we’d like to return the favor.”

“It’s fine, really-“

“We insist, Angel.”

𐙚 𐙚 𐙚

“That’s a good girl…Just like that, Princess.”

Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, body trembling. Nothing but your sniffles and the messy sound of Choso’s pierced tip hitting that spot so deep inside of you, you were short of breath. “Mmmph- fuck! F-Fuck Choso…” He fucked the slutty whines right out of you.

A greedy hand grabs at your breast, the other cupping your throat. “Didn’t forget about me did you Angel?” Suguru’s voice had your pussy spasming around Choso’s dick. Hs squeezed just enough to make you gasp. “Sugu-“ Your eyes squeeze shut, his fingers rolling around the hard nub of your nipple- littered in bite marks. You felt the metal of his jacob’s ladder piercing twitch against your back, pre cum spilling down his girthy dick.

“Mmm like how he’s fucking you, hm?” He coos in your ear, pretty eyes mesmerized by the sticky mess that connected your pretty puffy pussy and Choso’s dick that he could see bulging your tummy.

“Y-es!” Your head leans back against his chest, the position had you feeling everything. Suguru’s hand still on your neck, and then you felt it, his hips shifting ever so slightly, low grunts fanning against your ear. “Fuck Angel.” He was getting off rutting against your back.

“Princess- s’o good nngh..o-oh fuck.” Choso’s grip on your legs tighten. “W-Wanna go deeper. m’gonna cum s-so deep inside.” Eyes in a daze, Choso lets out a string of incoherencies. “Taking me so good. Good girl.” It felt so hot. Suguru had a firm grip on your neck, his grunts stringing out longer than the last. His cum smearing on your back, the friction so intense on his dick- twitching. “You’re taking him so well, Angel. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

But Suguru could be patient, yes. As soft whines he spilled into your ear increased in volume, your eyes fluttered shut. Choso rutting in and out of you like an animal in heat. “Fuck, fuck fuck-“ Dick slipping deeper inside your gloppy mess, leaning down to touch foreheads with you. Suguru’s grip on your neck tightening. “Look at me, Princess.” Choso’s breath fans against your lips. Your pretty eyes stare right into his. “O-Oh go-“ You force out the loud moan that sent you pulsing. That heat in your stomach boiling over. “Thank you.” He smirks, You sob, orgasm hitting you so hard you could only fall into a whimpering mess. and Choso…oh Choso. The feeling too much for his sensitive length. Each inch of girth invading your pussy.

“Made for us.” Suguru chokes out. Fat glops of warm cum running down your back. “H-Hah..!” Your pretty pearl gushing around the louder man. His hips sputtered, “Fuck-“ Warm strings of seed spilling into your womb, filling that pretty pussy right on up. “You’re doing so well, Angel. So good for us. That’s it..take all of it.”

That wasn’t it, no. Your mind had a hard time catching up. Choso’s fat cock slipping from your pussy, globs of cum seeping from your pretty folds. Suguru kisses your cheek so softly, flipping you over carefully onto your stomach. “Such a pretty view…” He hums, thumb spreading your pussy open. You whine, pretty pussy gasping around nothing. “Sugu..stop teasing.” His dick twitched at the sight. “M’sorry, Angel. Just look so pretty back here.” Thumb spreading the cum, running over your clit. Fuckkk, He moans. Ruined, a mess. His dick red and angry, leaking from the tip and sensitive to the touch.

Choso had took Suguru’s place, kneeling in front of you. Gentle fingers grasp at your chin and tilting your head up. “Open up f’me pretty girl.” He licks his lips, snake eyes peeking out at you. Your mouth falls open, balancing your weight with your arms. “Good girl, Princess.”

Suguru taps the round of your ass with his heavy cock. “Ready for me, Angel?” Your pussy pulsed. It’s as if they had the same mind at the same time. The drooling head of Choso’s dick slips into the warmth of your mouth, while Suguru’s thick tip slowly pushes past the tight ring of your pulsing heat. “Oh…A-Angel- Mmfm feel so..s’good.”

Inch by inch they invade your holes so slowly the please was agonizing, and were a drooling mess. Glossy eyes looking up at Choso, his head tipped back while he used his other hand to push your head forward, feeding you inch by inch. “Think I’m gonna cum..” His hips stutter forward. Once your nose was buried into the small hairs rested at his base, Suguru pulls out the barely half of his dick that was buried inside of you. His tip sliding out of your pussy with a pop! Before he pushes it all back in- “Mmmfuck Angel you feel s-so good around me.” sending a shock wave through your body so hard that you choke up around Choso’s cock resting in your mouth.

And it went…all night, until you were on your back shaking from Suguru eating your pussy out, his tongue piercing flicking against your abused clit. Until you were crying from Choso choking you while you rode him reverse cowgirl, fingers rubbing your pretty pussy until you squirted. Until they both came inside of you, over and over. Until the rain cleared up.

The sun peeked from your blinds, waking you up. You groan, that throbbing feeling between your legs so intense that you laid there for at least another 15 minutes reminiscing about the night before. When did you fell asleep…

But you were clean. Your body washed and clear of anything, no cum spilling from your pussy. No ruined sheets. The Kiss Angel shirt that Suguru wore engulfing your body. And Once you finally did get up, trembling legs taking you as fast as they could to the living room, they were gone. No guitars by your door, their dried clothes gone from the dryer, the towels in your dirty clothes bin. “Wha..” You stared at the scene before you, it’s as if they never came.

Except the empty plate of brownies was now a plate of breakfast wrapped up with a note stuck to it.

Thank you again for letting us hide out in your home Angel. We left you a little something in your phone ;p . Text us when you get a chance, let me know if you’re alright okay?

XXX-XXX-XXXX — Suguru

Thank you so much Princess. We cleaned you up and changed your sheets. Enjoy this food that we cooked (you need to go grocery shopping btw) and take it slow today.

XXX-XXX-XXXX — Choso

P. S. There’s a plan B on the kitchen counter.

It was a crisp October evening, the kind where the leaves crunched under your feet and the air had that bite that made you crave something warm. Today was Chan's birthday, his 28th, to be exact, and you'd been planning this for weeks. Chan wasn't the type to make a big fuss about his special day. He was your steady, reliable boyfriend of two years, the guy who worked a normal 9-to-5, came home to cook dinner with you, and binge-watched shows until you both passed out on the couch. But you knew he deserved something extra tonight.

You'd taken the day off work to set everything up. The apartment was spotless, candles flickering on the coffee table, and his favorite takeout from that Korean BBQ place was warming in the oven. But the real surprise? That was for later. You'd splurged on some new lingerie: a lacy black set with a sheer bodysuit that hugged your curves just right. And because the weather was turning chilly, you'd thrown on a pair of sheer black tights underneath, the kind with a subtle shimmer that caught the light. You weren't sure why you'd picked them; maybe it was the way they made your legs look endless, or how they added a teasing layer to the outfit. Either way, you felt sexy as hell slipping into it all while he was still at work.

Chan texted around 6 PM: "Heading home soon, babe. Can't wait to see you." You smiled at your phone, heart fluttering. You replied with a simple heart emoji, not wanting to give anything away.

When the door clicked open half an hour later, you were in the kitchen, pretending to fuss over plates. "Happy birthday, handsome!" you called out, turning to face him with a grin.

Chan dropped his bag by the door, his dark hair a bit messy from the wind, and those dimples flashed as he smiled back. He was in his usual work attire: button-up shirt tucked into slacks, looking effortlessly hot. "Hey, you" he said, crossing the room to pull you into a hug. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. "Smells amazing in here. You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to" you murmured, kissing his cheek. "Go change into something comfy. Dinner's almost ready."

He pecked your lips before heading to the bedroom. You heard him rummaging around, and your pulse quickened. The lingerie was hidden under your oversized sweater and jeans for now, no need to rush. You'd reveal it after dinner, maybe during dessert.

Dinner was perfect. You laughed over stories from his day, fed each other bites of bulgogi, and clinked glasses of soju. Chan kept stealing glances at you, his eyes soft and appreciative. "This is the best birthday" he said at one point, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "Just being with you."

You felt a warm glow in your chest. "It's not over yet" you teased, winking.

After clearing the plates, you led him to the couch. "Sit" you ordered playfully. He obeyed, sprawling out with that easy grin. You dimmed the lights a bit more, the candles casting a romantic glow. "I have a present for you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Another one? You already got me that new watch."

"This one's... different." You bit your lip, suddenly a little nervous. What if he thought it was cheesy? But no, Chan had always been open about appreciating your body, your efforts to make things fun in the bedroom. You took a deep breath and started unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down slowly.

Chan's eyes widened as he caught sight of the tights clinging to your thighs. "Oh" he breathed, sitting up straighter. You peeled off the sweater next, revealing the bodysuit. It was low-cut, the lace barely covering your breasts, and the sheer fabric left little to the imagination down below. But it was the tights that seemed to hold his gaze, they were full tights, smooth and silky all the way up.

You twirled a little, feeling empowered by the way his jaw went slack. "Like it?" you asked, voice husky.

"Like it? Babe, you look... incredible." His voice was rougher than usual, and he reached out, pulling you onto his lap. You straddled him, your hands on his shoulders as he ran his palms up your thighs, feeling the nylon under his fingers. He groaned softly. "These tights... God, they're so soft."

You laughed, leaning in to kiss him. It started sweet, but quickly turned heated. His hands explored, squeezing your ass through the fabric, then sliding up to trace the lace edges of the bodysuit. You could feel him hardening beneath you, and a thrill shot through you. But as you ground against him, his fingers kept returning to your legs, stroking the tights like he couldn't get enough.

"Channie" you whispered against his lips, "you really like these, huh?"

He pulled back slightly, cheeks flushing. "Yeah, I... I don't know. Something about the way they feel. And look on you." He hesitated, then added quieter, "It's kinda hot. Like, really hot."

That's when it clicked. You'd never noticed before, but thinking back, there were times when you'd worn stockings or tights out on dates, and he'd been extra touchy, his hands lingering on your legs under the table. Once, after a party where you'd worn fishnets, he'd practically dragged you home. Was this his kink? The realization made you smile wickedly. "Well, happy birthday to me for figuring that out" you teased.

He chuckled, but his eyes were dark with desire. "Shut up and kiss me."

You did, deeper this time, tongues tangling as you rocked your hips. His shirt came off first, revealing his toned chest, you loved running your nails over his skin, watching him shiver. Then his pants, until he was in just his boxers, erection straining against the fabric.

"Bedroom?" he suggested, voice breathy.

You nodded, but instead of standing, you slid off his lap and onto your knees in front of him. His breath hitched as you hooked your fingers into his waistband, pulling down. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly, and looked up at him through your lashes.

"Fuck, babe" he muttered, head falling back.

But you wanted to tease him more, incorporate his newfound kink. You lifted one leg, pressing your stockinged foot against his thigh, rubbing gently. His eyes snapped open, locking on where the nylon met his skin. "You like that?" you asked innocently.

He nodded jerkily. "Yeah. Keep doing it."

You did, alternating strokes with your hand and caresses with your foot. He was mesmerized, hips bucking slightly. Precum beaded at the tip, and you leaned in, licking it off. Chan groaned loudly, his hand tangling in your hair.

You took him into your mouth then, sucking slowly, letting your tongue swirl around the head. His free hand gripped the couch, knuckles white. "So good" he panted. "Don't stop."

But after a few minutes, he tugged you up. "Not yet. I want to be inside you."

You stood, leading him to the bedroom. The sheets were fresh, and you pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top. He watched hungrily as you positioned yourself, but then paused. "Wait, the tights. I don't want to rip them."

You raised an eyebrow. "You can if you want."

His eyes darkened further. "No. Leave them on. Please."

Oh, yeah. Definite kink. You smirked. "As you wish, birthday boy."

The bodysuit had a snap crotch, convenient. You undid it, exposing yourself, already wet from the foreplay and tore the tights a bit. Chan licked his lips, reaching down to guide himself to your entrance. But you stopped him, grabbing his wrists. "Let me."

You sank down slowly, inch by inch, both of you moaning at the sensation. He filled you perfectly, stretching you just right. Once fully seated, you started moving, rolling your hips in a rhythm that had him gripping your thighs hard.

The tights added something extra, the way his hands slid over the smooth fabric, occasionally digging in. "You feel amazing" he gasped, thrusting up to meet you.You leaned forward, bracing on his chest, picking up speed. The lace of the bodysuit rubbed against your nipples, heightening everything. Chan's eyes were glued to your body, especially where your legs wrapped around him, the tights shimmering in the low light.

"Fuck, these tights... I love how they look on you" he admitted, voice strained. "Makes me want to... I don't know, worship your legs or something."

You laughed breathlessly. "Yeah? Tell me more."

He blushed but obliged. "They're so sexy. Smooth, tight... like a second skin. And feeling them while I'm inside you? It's driving me crazy."

His words spurred you on, and you rode him harder, the bed creaking under you. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and you could feel your own climax building. "Chan, I'm close" you whimpered.

"Me too. Come for me, babe."

A few more thrusts, and you shattered, clenching around him as waves of pleasure hit. He followed seconds later, spilling inside you with a guttural moan, hands clutching your stockinged thighs like a lifeline.

You collapsed onto his chest, both panting. After a moment, he kissed your temple. "Best birthday gift ever."

You grinned, lifting your head. "And I think I just unlocked your secret kink."

He laughed, sheepish. "Guilty. I've always had a thing for lingerie and tights, but with you? It's on another level."

The night was far from over. After catching your breath, you both cleaned up a bit, well, sort of. You kept the outfit on, minus the unsnapped part, and Chan couldn't keep his hands off you. He pulled you back to bed, spooning you from behind, his fingers tracing patterns on your tights-covered legs.

"Tell me more about this kink" you murmured, curious. "When did it start?"

He hummed thoughtfully, lips brushing your shoulder. "I don't know. Probably back in college. Saw a girl in class wearing sheer tights, and it just... stuck with me. But I've never really explored it. Until now."

You turned in his arms, facing him. "Well, we can explore it more. Tonight's just the beginning."

His eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You kissed him softly, then deeper, feeling him stir against you already. Round two?This time, he took control. He flipped you onto your back, hovering over you. "Let me show you how much I appreciate this."

He started at your feet, kissing the arch through the nylon, then up your calves, thighs. His touch was reverent, like he was savoring every inch. "These legs" he murmured. "So perfect in these."

You shivered as his mouth reached the apex of your thighs, but he skipped over, teasing. Instead, he kissed your stomach through the lace, then up to your breasts. He peeled down the bodysuit cups, exposing you, and latched onto a nipple, sucking gently.

"Chan" you moaned, arching into him.

He smiled against your skin. "Patience."

But patience wasn't his strong suit either. Soon, his hand slipped between your legs, fingers circling your clit through the torn tights and open bodysuit. The fabric added friction, making it intense. "Feel good?" he asked.

"God, yes."

He kept going until you were writhing, then finally ripped a bigger hole in the tights, carefully, just enough to access you without ruining them completely. "Sorry" he said, not sounding sorry at all.

You laughed. "Worth it."

He positioned himself, sliding in slowly this time, both of you savoring the connection. Missionary, but intimate, his forehead against yours, breaths mingling. He moved in long, deep thrusts, hands roaming your body, always returning to stroke the tights.

"You're so wet for me" he whispered. "All dressed up like this."

"For you" you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist, the nylon sliding against his back.

That seemed to push him over the edge. His pace quickened, hips snapping. You met him thrust for thrust, nails digging into his shoulders. The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, mixed with the subtle rustle of fabric.

"Come with me" he urged, reaching down to rub your clit.

You did, crying out his name as orgasm hit again, tighter and sweeter than the first. Chan groaned, burying deep as he came, pulsing inside you.

Afterward, you lay tangled, sweaty and satisfied. He traced lazy circles on your thigh. "I could get used to this."

"Me too." You yawned, content. But curiosity lingered. "Is there more to this kink? Like, specific fantasies?"

He propped himself on an elbow, looking thoughtful. "Honestly? Yeah. Sometimes I imagine you in different styles, fishnets, patterned ones, colored. And... maybe keeping them on during everyday stuff, teasing me."

You raised an eyebrow. "Like, wearing them under my work clothes and sending you pics?"

His grin was wolfish. "Exactly."

"Noted for future birthdays. Or any day, really."

He pulled you closer. "You're the best."

The clock ticked past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on your minds. You talked more, about fantasies, boundaries, what turned each other on. It felt easy, natural. Chan had always been communicative, but this vulnerability was new, exciting.

Eventually, hunger struck again. "Midnight snack?" you suggested.

He nodded. "But only if you stay in that outfit."

"Deal."

You padded to the kitchen, tights still on (hole and all), bodysuit haphazardly snapped. Chan followed in boxers, eyes glued to your ass. You heated up leftovers, feeding each other bites, laughing when sauce dripped.

Back in bed, things heated up once more. This time, slower, more exploratory. He had you on all fours, entering from behind, hands gripping your hips over the tights. "Look at you" he growled. "So fucking sexy."

You pushed back, moaning. "Harder, Chan."

He obliged, pounding into you, the angle hitting just right. One hand slid around to play with your breasts through the lace, the other staying on your thigh, thumb rubbing the nylon.

It built fast, intense. You came first, collapsing forward, and he followed, pulling out to finish on your back, marking the lingerie.

"Shit, sorry" he panted, grabbing tissues.

You shook your head, smiling. "It's hot. We can wash it."

Cleaned up, you finally stripped off the outfit, both too exhausted for more. Naked under the covers, you cuddled, his head on your chest.

"Happy birthday" you whispered.

"Best one yet" he replied sleepily. "Love you."

"Love you too."

As you drifted off, you thought about tomorrow, maybe ordering more tights online. This kink discovery? It was going to make things even more fun.

Your thighs pressed together as heat pooled low in your stomach,you tried to play it off your own way. “It’s hot outside today… and I thought you might it.”

Sunghoon let out a cold, humorless laugh and stood up, all six feet of lean muscle. “You thought I’d like it? So you’re the campus slut for a reason, huh? Walking around like this, bending over in hallways, letting everyone stare. People talk. They say you’re sucking dick between classes just to get attention.”

He stopped right in front of you, grabbing your chin roughly, forcing your head up so you had to meet his eyes. His thumb smeared your shiny pink gloss across your lower lip. “Lying to my face now? That’s another violation. You break rules because you’re a desperate little whore who needs attention.breaking rules to get my attention huh,say it slut what you want.”

“y...yeah… I broke them on purpose,” you whispered, voice breathy. “Wanted your attention, Sunghoon. Wanted you to punish me.”

His grip tightened, a mean smirk pulling at his lips. “At least you admit you’re a whore. Good girl.”

He spun you around fast, shoving you toward the desk slapping your right asscheek hard. “Hands flat. Ass out. Don’t move yeah?.”

You planted your palms on the cool wood, arching your back so your ass pushed out under the tiny skirt. Sunghoon took his time, flipping the fabric up and admiring the lacy pink panties you’d chosen for the day.

“Already soaked through like a pathetic slut.” His palm cracked hard across your ass again sharp, stinging. Once, twice, three times, each slap harder than the last. “This is what happens when greedy campus whores can’t follow simple rules.”

You whimpered, knees shaking, but pushed back for more. He hooked two fingers into the lace, tugging your panties aside roughly. Without warning, he shoved two long fingers deep into your dripping pussy, curling them meanly against that spot that made your eyes roll.

“So fucking wet already. This messy cunt stays ready for me, doesn’t it?” He pumped his fingers slow and deep, scissoring you open while his thumb teased your clit just enough to drive you crazy. “Begging to be ruined in my office because you’re too much of a whore to behave.”

“Sunghoon—please—”

He slapped your ass again. “Try again.”

“hoon… please. I need you.”

He pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty and whining, then spun you to face him. “On your knees. You’re gonna apologize with that slutty mouth first.”

You dropped instantly, the carpet rough against your skin. Sunghoon unzipped, pulling out his thick, veiny cock already rock hard, flushed dark at the tip and leaking precum. He tapped it against your cheek, smearing the wetness across your pretty face.

“You’re way too good at this. That’s your only real talent, isn’t it? Campus whore with a throat that won’t quit.” He gripped your hair tight, guiding you forward. “Make it sloppy. Show me why everyone wants a turn with you.”

You started teasing kissing the tip softly, licking a slow, wet stripe up the underside while looking up at him with big, glassy doe eyes. But Sunghoon wasn’t in the mood for games. He shoved forward, burying himself deep in one thrust until your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat convulsed around him.

“Fuck yes. Just like that.” His hips snapped, fucking your face with zero mercy. Spit instantly poured from the corners of your mouth, dripping messily down your chin onto your tits. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, tongue swirling and pressing flat against every throbbing vein as he pulled back. One hand gently rolled his heavy balls while the other twisted around the base in tight strokes.

The sounds were filthy loud, wet glucks and gurgles filling the quiet office. Your throat bulged visibly with every deep thrust. Tears spilled fast, ruining your mascara in black streaks down your flushed cheeks. You moaned around his cock, letting the vibrations travel through him while you swallowed repeatedly, milking him.

Sunghoon’s abs clenched, breath ragged. “Shit… your head is actually s'good. Gonna make me lose it if you keep sucking like that.” He fucked your mouth harder short, brutal thrusts, balls slapping your chin, spit flying everywhere. Your lips were swollen and glossy, completely coated. You looked wrecked already: eyes crossed, mascara destroyed, drool everywhere.

He pulled out suddenly with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting your puffy lips to his glistening cock. He slapped the heavy length against your tongue a few times, breathing hard.

“Enough. Get up.”

Sunghoon yanked you up by the hair and bent you over the desk again, hooking one of your legs high over his shoulder. Your lacy pink bra and panties stayed on he just shoved the soaked fabric aside. The fat head of his cock rubbed up and down your folds, teasing your swollen clit until your thighs trembled.

“Beg like you mean it, baby.”

“Please, hoon—fuck me dumb,please. I’ll be good—”

He slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You screamed, but his hand clamped over your mouth, fingers digging in.

“Quiet. Unless you want the whole floor hearing me cream this greedy pussy.”

He fucked you right there on the desk, papers scattering. The angle was insane cock dragging against every sensitive spot, so deep you felt it in your stomach. Your tits bounced hard in the pink lace with every punishing thrust. His free hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just right to make your head fuzzy and your pussy clench tighter around him.

“Too big—fuck—slow down—”

“Take it anyway, whore.” He leaned down, sucking dark hickeys into your neck, collarbones, and the tops of your tits marking you up so everyone would know tomorrow you were fucked good. Your makeup was completely ruined, lipstick smeared across your face. He kissed you filthy, tongue invading your mouth in time with his hips.

Then he flipped you fast, bending you properly over the desk for backshots. Ass up, face pressed into the wood. He yanked your hair like reins, slamming back inside. The wet, obscene slap of skin filled the room. One hand choked you from behind while the other spanked your ass bright red, then reached around to rub your clit in fast, mean circles.

You came hard vision whitening, legs shaking violently as you squirted around his cock, soaking his pants and the floor. Brain completely melted, just babbling nonsense and drooling.

Sunghoon didn’t slow down. He fucked you through it, ruthless, until he buried himself deep and came with a low groan thick, hot ropes painting your insides, so much it leaked out around his cock immediately.He stayed buried for a moment, panting against your neck, then finally pulled out slow, watching his cum drip down your thighs.You collapsed against the desk, legs useless, makeup wrecked, body covered in marks, spit and cum. Just a fucked-out in pink lace.

Sunghoon pulled you into his lap in the chair after a second, surprisingly gentle as he wiped some ruined mascara off your cheek with his thumb.

“Next time you break a rule,” he murmured against your ear, voice still dark, “i'll make it worse.”

You smiled dumbly, nuzzling into his neck. “Yes, sir.”

For a star like Martin Edwards, that was a tall order. Lead singer of his band, his face plastered across every magazine, his voice the anthem of a generation. He'd never publicly acknowledged a relationship, never shown interest in anyone. The endless fangirls bordering on stalkers made him paranoid—he'd rather be alone than risk letting a stranger in. He'd built his career on being untouchable, the kind of guy who left girls crying in their bedrooms, not the other way around.

Paris Fashion Week wasn't his scene at all. He'd almost skipped it, told his manager to shove the invitation somewhere unpleasant, but something pulled him there, a restless itch he couldn't explain, a feeling that he'd miss something important if he didn't go.

He came decked in black: scuffed combat boots, leather trousers that hugged his thighs, a faded CORTIS tour tee from two years ago. He looked bored, slouched in his front-row seat like he'd rather be anywhere else, fingers drumming against his knee as models glided by in designer gowns and sky-high heels. The music was too polished, the lights too bright, the whole affair too clean for his taste. He was about to get up and leave when you emerged.

You walked the runway like you owned it, wearing stunning floor-length gown in champagne silk that caught every light, a slit that went dangerously high, heels so sharp they could kill a man. You didn't smile, didn't wave, instead you moved like you were born for this, shoulders back, chin high, utterly untouchable.

His jaw went slack and his drumming fingers stilled. For the first time in years, Martin Edwards was speechless. His mind was hollow, entirely empty of any rational thought that would have been screaming at him to snap out of it before his reputation of being untouchable is completely destroyed. Instead there was one simple line repeating like a mantra.

He needed you. He needed you more than he'd ever needed anything.

You didn't look at him once. Your gaze swept over the front row like they were furniture, as though he was just another piece of decor, and that only made it worse.

At the end of the runway, you turned. For a split second, your eyes met his. You lifted one eyebrow by just a fraction—a flicker of curiosity, a silent question—before your expression smoothed back to perfect neutrality and you were gone, disappearing behind the velvet curtains.

He didn't even remember the rest of the show. He sat there like a statue, his mind replaying that single moment in an endless loop.

What he didn't know was that it had all been photographed. By morning, his slack-jawed, lovesick stare was splashed across every tabloid and newspaper in the country.

"ROCKSTAR RAVENOUS! Martin Edwards' Heart Snatched by Parisian Mystery Muse!" Screamed the front page of The Sun, complete with a grainy photo of his stunned face. "WHO IS THE SIREN IN HEELS?" Demanded the Daily Mail. Even the fashion magazines got in on it: Vogue ran a two-page spread speculating about the mysterious model who'd made the ‘Prince of Darkness’ lose his cool, complete with freeze-frames of that one eyebrow raise.

Martin sat in his hotel room the next evening staring at his own exposed face on every newsstand. The mask he'd worn for years—the untouchable, brooding rockstar—was gone. Everyone had seen him unravel in real time.

A slow grin spread across his face as he scanned the endless pages.

Good. Now you’d know exactly who was coming for you.

Two weeks later, you arrived back in New York following the event, doing everything in your power to try to forget the weird rockstar who stared at you like you'd personally ruined his life. You were in your penthouse apartment, a copy of Paper magazine with his lovesick face plastered across it on your marble coffee table. Your agent had been calling nonstop, thrilled about the publicity, already scheming about how to leverage it for your next campaign. 

Your phone suddenly began ringing and you almost ignored it entirely, tired of the constant need for people to speak to you, but something pushed you to pick up.

"Hello?"

A low voice, rough and amused, crackled through the receiver. "That was a hell of a walk. Almost made me forget my own name."

You instantly froze. You knew that voice—you’d heard it enough times on the radio, on MTV, blasting from cars in traffic. The voice of a generation, the voice of every teenage girl's bedroom wall.

"Martin Edwards," you said flatly, sinking onto your velvet chaise. "How the hell did you get my number?"

"You're a model," he replied, like that explainef everything. "I'm a rockstar. I have people."

"You have stalkers, you mean."

He laughed a genuine, surprised sound, not the polished chuckle he typically gives interviews. "Yeah, maybe. But I'm not a stalker, I'm just..." He paused and you bit your lip slightly, unsure on why the silence made you nervous. "Determined."

You should have hung up and slammed the phone down and called your doorman to make sure no one gets past the lobby. You knew exactly what this was: a rockstar with a new fixation, chasing the next shiny thing, bored of groupies and looking for a challenge.

"Listen, rockstar," you said, your voice dropping to something cold and sharp. "I don't do groupies, I don't do fans, and I definitely don't do men who think they can just call me up because they saw me on a runway."

Silence came from his end. Then, quietly: "I don't want a fan. I want you."

"You don't know me."

"Then let me."

You chewed your lip, staring at your reflection in the dark window of your apartment—the skyline glittered before you, the city that never sleeps hummed twenty floors below. You've dated musicians before and it's always a disaster: the cheating, the lies, the constant parade of women throwing themselves at them. Martin Edwards was the biggest of them all. A tabloid regular; a walking red flag in scuffed boots and leather.

Though there was a rawness in his voice that caught you off guard and made you pause.

"I'm busy," you answeref, though the slight smile you were attempting to suppress suggested differently.

"Friday. 8pm. I'll send a car."

"I didn't say yes."

"You didn't say no."

You hung up before he could say anything else, but you made sure to write his number down on a scrap of paper incase he ever called again. Just in case.

Friday night arrived and you put on a silk black slip dress with barely there straps. The stretch of fabric falling just above your knee and you added strappy heels that made your legs look endless, folowed by a delicate necklace before you styled your hair loose and glossy.

You looked in the mirror and reminded yourself that you didn’t care what rockstar Martin Edwards thought of you, he was the same as every other male musician that latched onto women for a few weeks before getting bored.

You smoothed down the dress one last time, adjusting the thin straps on your shoulders before grabbing a small clutch, slipping your phone inside and taking a breath.

The town car waited outside your building, sleek and black, a driver holding the door open like this was completely normal. You slid into the leather backseat and watched the city blur past as he drove you downtown.

The jazz bar was hidden in the Village, tucked away behind an unmarked door you would have walked right past if the driver hadn't pointed it out. Inside, it was all exposed brick and dim amber light, a saxophone player in the corner crooning something slow and sad. The place was intimate, almost empty, a few couples scattered at tables alongside a bartender polishing glasses.

And there he was.

Martin Edwards sat in a corner booth, dressed down in a simple black sweater and dark jeans, his hair pushed back from his face. His fingers tapped against the tabletop in a restless rhythm, and when he saw you approach, he stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his drink.

"You came," he said, genuine surprise in his voice.

"You sent a car. It seemed rude to waste gas."

He grinned at your words. "I'll take it."

You slid into the booth across from him, crossing your legs, the slit of your dress falling open just slightly. 

"So," you said, leaning back. "What's your angle?"

"No angle."

"Bullshit."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have an angle. I just saw you on that runway and couldn't stop thinking about you. That's it. That's the whole thing."

"You haven’t even asked for my name."

"I already know it's Y/N."

You tilted your head, studying him. He wasn't performing for you—not the way he performed on stage, not the way he performed in interviews. He was just here, nervous but trying.

"Okay," you said slowly. "One drink. If you bore me I'm gone."

"Deal."

You ended up staying until the bar closed. He didn't bore you. Instead he made you laugh whilst looking at you like you were the only person in the room, and when he walked you to your door at 3am, he didn't try to come in. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, memorising every detail of you with a slight smirk residing on his lips.

"Same time next week?" He asked, tilting his head just a fraction.

You should have said no and walked inside and forgotten this ever happened. Instead, you smiled. "Maybe."

Safe to say, Martin Edwards was a hard man to shake.

He had a way of appearing when you least expected him: a bouquet of peonies delivered to your apartment the morning after your first date, a handwritten note slipped under your door alongside it that revealed far more emotional depth than a rockstar of his realm should technically possess. He called you at odd hours from the road, his voice rough and tired, just to hear you say goodnight. He sent you playlists filled with unreleased songs he'd recorded himself that were burned onto discs, his voice cracking over stolen lyrics he'd rewritten just for you.

He was relentless, and worse, he was charming.

It started small with a dinner here and a walk there. He took you to dive bars and rooftop restaurants, to galleries and late-night diners. He never brought you to anything flashy, never paraded you around like a trophy. He kept you hidden, protected, his own private secret in a world that wanted to consume him.

You let him do it all because despite every instinct screaming at you to run, to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak of dating a rockstar, Martin Edwards made it impossible to resist.

He remembered everything—your coffee order, your favourite movie, the way you liked your eggs in the morning. He learned the exact pressure of his hand on your lower back that made you shiver when he guided you through crowds. He learned the exact rhythm of your breathing when you fell asleep on his chest.

He was careful with you in a way you hadn't expected.

And slowly, without even realising it, you fell.

Within two months of knowing you Martin was already inviting you backstage to his shows, keeping you hidden and protected from the intruding crowd. It was at one of these shows when he had pulled you behind a pillar, the rest of the world becoming nonexistent as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you tightly against him, his forehead dropping to uour shoulder.

You hesitated for a moment before reaching your hand up and letting your fingers sift through his strands, the sigh of relief he let out showing you were doing the right thing. 

The two of you remained in that position much longer than what was considered normal, though neither of you cared, too swept up in the moment.

Eventually you heard him say something, his words muffled against your jacket.

“What?” You asked softly, a small smile resting on your lips. He lifted his head up, his hair standing up in multiple directions from all your ruffling, and he very much did not look like the hardcore rockstar many of his fans saw him to be.

"I said," he murmured, his voice rough, "I think I'm in trouble."

You raised an eyebrow. "What kind of trouble?"

"The kind where I can't stop thinking about you." He reached up, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as you felt your cheeks redden just slightly at the gesture. "The kind where I don't want to be on stage unless I know you're watching. The kind where I wake up and the first thing I do is reach for you, even when you're not there."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your gaze softening at his words. "Martin—"

"I know it's fast. I know we've only known each other two months. I know you probably think I'm just some rockstar who gets bored easily and moves on to the next thing." He let out a breath, his forehead dropping back to your shoulder. "But you're not the next thing, you're the only thing for me."

You stood there, frozen, his body pressed against yours, his words echoing in your head. Two months was nothing, barely enough time to know someone properly and let alone fall for them.

But you already knew him. You knew the way he took his coffee, that he hummed when he was concentrating, even how his eyes lit up when he talked about a new song he was writing. You knew the shadows under his eyes when he hadn't slept, that his fingers tapped against every surface like he was always composing something. You knew he looked at you like you were something precious he was terrified of losing.

And you knew, with absolute certainty, that you were already in too deep.

"Martin," you said softly, your fingers finding their way back to his hair, threading through the dark strands. "Look at me."

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, and he looked nervous. Martin Edwards, the man who commanded thousands of screaming fans night after night, looked nervous.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said quietly. "You're not going to lose me."

His breath caught. "You mean that?"

"I mean it."

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your eyes for something: doubt, hesitation, a lie; he found none.

He slowly moved forward and his lips brushed against yours so softly you could barely feel them, and you realised in that moment he was afraid you'd pull away.

You did nothing of the sort and instead leaned into him, your fingers curling in his hair, pulling him closer. His arms tightened around your waist, and you felt the tension drain from his body as he melted into you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps whilst his eyes remained closed.

"Y/N," he whispered, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

"I'm here," you said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He opened his eyes, and the look in them made your heart ache. It was raw and open and completely unguarded.

"I've never—" He stopped, shaking his head. "I've never felt like this before. I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know how to do this."

"Neither do I," you admitted. "But we can figure it out together."

He smiled then, his grin reaching his eyes and making him look younger and lighter than how he appeared on the many magazines you absolutely did not keep hidden in your bedside table. "Together?"

"Together."

He kissed you again, softer this time—if that were even possible, as though he was sealing a promise. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones, and you felt like the only person in the world.

When he pulled back, he was grinning. "I'm going to be so annoying now, you know that, right? The whole band is going to hate me. I'm not going to shut up about you."

You laughed, shoving his chest lightly. "You're already annoying."

"True." He pulled you back into his arms, burying his face in your hair. "But now I'm annoying and in love."

You could only smile against his shoulder at that, closing your eyes and letting the feel of him engulf your entire being.

From then on, Martin was yours and you were his, as hard as it was when you were constantly on opposite sides of the world. The distance was brutal: weeks apart, time zones that made calls nearly impossible, schedules that never seemed to align, but Martin made it work. He called you every night, no matter where he was or what time it was. He sent you handwritten letters filled with lyrics he'd scribbled in the margins of hotel notepads. He showed up at your apartment unannounced, exhausted and rumpled, just to hold you for a few hours before catching another flight.

You did the same for him. You flew across oceans to watch him perform, sitting in the shadows of the crowd, hidden beneath caps and sunglasses, just to see him do what he loved. You called him when you couldn't sleep, when the loneliness of your hotel room became too much and everything made you think of him.

It wasn't easy—there were nights you cried, overwhelmed by the distance, the secrecy, and the weight of loving someone the world wasn't supposed to know about, and there were nights Martin called you, his voice rough and raw, confessing how much he missed you followed by how much he hated being so far away.

But you always found your way back to each other, and every time you did, it was like no time had passed at all.

The public eventually found out, and it was entirely inevitable, to be completely honest. You'd been as careful as two people in the public eye could be, but you weren't as invisible or untouchable as you had thought. Eventually the paparazzi, relentless and all-seeing, caught a glimpse of what you'd been trying so hard to protect.

It started with a photo: the two of you in a hotel lobby in London, his hand intertwined with yours, your head tilted back in laughter as he whispered something in your ear. It was grainy, taken from too far away, but it was unmistakably the two of you.

The next morning, the image was everywhere.

"ROCKSTAR'S SECRET LOVE AFFAIR EXPOSED!" was printed on every newspaper in the country. Your face was plastered across every newsstand, every television screen, every gossip column. Your agent's phone rang off the hook for hours on end; stranngers on the street recognised you, whispering behind their hands, pointing and staring like you were a spectacle.

You'd known this day would come, you’d prepared for it, even braced yourself for it, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer weight of it: the invasion, the scrutiny, the sudden loss of privacy that came with being publicly linked to Martin Edwards.

You sat atop his bed in a London hotel room, the many magazines spread out in front of you as you sifted through one, your fingers tracing the grainy image of the two of you in the lobby. Your own face stared back at you, frozen in a moment of laughter, his hand wrapped around yours. It felt strange, seeing yourself reduced to a headline and a piece of gossip for strangers to consume without a care in the world about you as an actual person.

You heard the bathroom door creak open behind you, the air shifting as Martin emerged with his pyjamas sitting loose on his frame and his hair still damp, curling slightly at the ends. He crossed the room in a few quiet steps, and before you could look up, his hands were on the magazine, gently pulling it from your grasp.

"Hey—" you started to protest, but he tossed it aside, not caring where it landed.

Then he climbed onto the bed, his weight settling over you as he lay on top of you, his body pressing yours into the mattress. He was warm and solid, still smelling like soap and steam, and you let out a breathless laugh as you tried to shove at his shoulders.

"Martin, you're too heavy," you complained, but you were giggling, your hands flattening against his chest. "Get off."

He didn't move. Instead, he buried his face in the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "No," he murmured, the word muffled. "I'm staying here forever. This is my new home."

"Your new home is crushing me."

"Good, you're not going anywhere."

You laughed again, your fingers finding their way into his damp hair, threading through the damp strands. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm in love," he corrected, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his lips just grazing your chin. His eyes were soft and searching your own. "And I'm not letting a bunch of magazines ruin that."

Your smile faded slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on you again. "Martin—"

"I know," he said quietly, cutting you off. "I know it's a lot. I know they're going to be everywhere now. I know they're going to try to tear us apart." He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "But I don't care about any of it, all I care about is you."

You stared at him, your heart swelling. "You really mean that?"

"I really mean it." He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I love you, Y/N, and I'm not going to let anyone take that away from us."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and he let out a soft sigh of relief against your skin. The magazines lay forgotten on the floor, their headlines screaming about secrets and scandals, but neither of you paid them any attention.

In that moment, there was only the two of you.

"You're still crushing me," you murmured after a moment, a smile tugging at your lips.

He laughed, rolling off you just enough to pull you into his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Better?"

"Better."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt the tension in his body slowly ease. 

Eventually, the fans and press got used to seeing the two of you together.

It took time: months of grainy photos and speculative articles, of whispers and pointed fingers and strangers dissecting your every move. But slowly, inevitably, the novelty began to fade. You weren't a mystery anymore, you were just Martin Edwards' girlfriend, and he was just your boyfriend, and the two of you were simply... together.

The tabloids still covered you, of course, they always would, but the tone shifted. The invasive headlines gave way to something almost affectionate. The speculation about breakups and cheating scandals was replaced by stories about your red carpet appearances, your joint holidays, the way Martin looked at you during interviews.

"CORTIS Frontman and Model Girlfriend: The Coolest Couple in Rock?" —NME

"Martin Edwards and Y/N Y/L/N: How They Became Music's Most Stylish Pair" —Vogue

"Rockstar Romance: Why Martin and Y/N Are Relationship Goals" —Rolling Stone

You'd laugh every time you saw a new headline, shoving the magazine in Martin's face. "Did you see this? We're 'relationship goals.'"

He'd grin, pulling you into his lap. "They're not wrong."

You'd roll your eyes, but you'd be smiling. "You have such a big ego."

"You love it."

And you did. You really did.

The fans embraced you too. At first, there had been the inevitable backlash: jealous comments, cruel speculation, girls who swore you weren't good enough for him. But you weathered it, never engaging, never stooping to their level. You showed up to shows, stood quietly by his side, and let your actions speak for themselves.

Slowly, the fans came around. They saw the way Martin looked at you like you'd hung the moon, and how you supported him by showing up even when you didn't have to. They saw the small moments: him holding your hand backstage, you fixing his collar before he went on stage, the private smiles you exchanged across crowded rooms.

Soon, you weren't just Martin Edwards' girlfriend. You were the girl who'd tamed the rockstar. The one who could walk a runway in couture and still stand in the pit at one of his shows despite the rowdy crowd. The one who never looked fazed, never seemed rattled, never let the cameras get to her.

You'd become a style icon in your own right, your red carpet looks dissected and praised. You'd become a fixture at award shows, a staple of magazine covers, a name that stood on its own. And through it all, Martin was right beside you, his hand always finding yours, his eyes always seeking you out in a crowd.

The press called you the coolest couple, the most stylish pair, the relationship goals of a generation, but to you, it was simpler than that. You were just two people who'd found each other in the chaos, and had held on dearly when everything tried to pull you apart.