#skz x reader fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chahnniesroom · 3 months ago

Text

night again

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurities, reader not eating due to stress

a/n: the long awaited 'he calls you clingy' fic! title is from the english translation of 또 다시 밤 (twilight)

read it on ao3 | masterlist

You love your job. It's challenging for sure and the expectations from upper management are often unforgiving, but you’re proud of how hard you've worked and everything that you've accomplished in the past few years at your company.

As you've gained experience, you've slowly been given more and more responsibility. You've grown out of your junior role and though you're thrilled by the pay raise and prospect of being a team lead rather than being led by one, it's also daunting.

When you and your new team are assigned an important project with tight deadlines, you're determined to prove yourself. It's implied that you're going to have to have to dedicate a significant amount of time to finish it and while you're no stranger to long hours, it means that any plans you have of seeing your boyfriend, Chan, are out the window.

The timing is not terrible, Stray Kids has a comeback scheduled in about a week so you didn't think that you would be able to spend that much time with Chan anyway, but you usually try to surprise the boys at one of the music shows with a cake and some home cooked food.

Luckily, you've already been planning for this. Although nothing had been confirmed, you had expected that this project would be awarded to your company and you've already been trying to spend more time with Chan than usual in preparation for the busy season ahead for both of you.

Still, you can't help but agree with your best friend at work after she complains how little she's going to see her partner this month. Jinjoo doesn't know who your boyfriend is, but the two of you are close enough that you’ve shared that you have one and that work takes up a lot of his time. You've gushed to her about the sweet things that Chan has done for you and you've admitted that you think he's the one.

“You should bring him dinner sometime!” she exclaims when you mention you're not sure when the next time you'll be able to see Chan will be.

“Well, he’s really busy-” you start to say.

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m sure he would appreciate if you brought him food at work, especially if he’s anything like my partner and gets so caught up with work that they forget to eat sometimes,” she insists.

“That’s true.”

“Just trust me, Y/n. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure that it’d work. My partner loves when I do this. It’s literally the perfect way to take some time for each other before you’re both too busy. Even if he's super busy, his work can't be bad enough that he’s not allowed to eat, right?”

You agree somewhat reluctantly. You're still unsure about whether or not Chan would appreciate you barging in unannounced, but it is a cute idea and Jinjoo's confidence is enough to convince you.

The next day after work, you head to the company and order takeout for a late dinner for you and Chan, picking it up along the way. It reminds you of earlier in your relationship before you had gotten your current position and when Stray Kids were just gaining popularity. Both of you enjoyed having more casual date nights that provided more privacy as opposed to going out to fancy places and it makes you even more excited to see his reaction.

About a year after you started dating Chan, he insisted that you get a pass to get into JYP Entertainment without having to fill out a visitor's form and have someone pick you up. It has definitely come in handy more than a few times, although you try to limit the number of visits you make. Even though you're allowed to be there, it still feels intimidating to be in the building, like someone is going to recognize that you're not an employee and accuse you of being a sasaeng.

Luckily the late hour means that you make it to Chan's studio without having to interact with anybody except the security at the door, who had waved you through without a second thought. You had double checked with Felix earlier in the day to make sure that Chan didn't have any schedules or dinner plans, so you directly knock on his door without texting or calling him beforehand.

“Y/n?” he asks, a bit baffled when he sees you. “Did we- Did I forget that we had plans tonight?”

“No,” you say, a little nervous for some reason. It's just Chan, you tell yourself, but it doesn't make you feel any better. “I didn't think that you had dinner yet and wanted to see you.”

“Oh, I see. Come in,” Chan responds slowly, still processing your sudden appearance. “I just have something that I need to finish up-”

“It's fine! You can work,” you assure him quickly. “I don't want to interrupt you too much, I just wanted to drop by since I don't have plans and wanted to make sure that you're eating well.”

Chan’s studio isn’t messy at all, but he still gets up to clear some space on a side table for you, before returning back to where he has Cubase opened up. You pass over his food and feel relieved when he immediately digs in, but your appetite seems to have vanished, you can only get yourself to pick at your meal.

Chan is short with his responses all evening and continues to work on his laptop, even while eating. It throws you off a bit, you thought that he would be able to get to a stopping point and at least make a bit of time for you, but you did tell him that he could. Even so, you're determined to make the most of the last time that you’re going to see them for a while. You know they’ve been super busy the past few days, or more like the past few weeks, but still you had thought he would be a little bit more engaged or at the very least seem happy to see you.

Finally, after half an hour of eating with minimal conversation, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind this entire time. Chan’s finished his food and you know that you won’t be able to get yourself to eat anymore, so you shuffle everything off to the side and inch closer to Chan.

“You know that client we’ve been trying to work with for a while?” you start tentatively.

Chan hums noncommittally, continuing to type on his computer. Not quite the reaction that you're hoping for, but you forge on anyway.

“We got awarded the job! It’s a great opportunity for the company and everyone is really excited, but-”

“Y/n,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing and all, but you know that it’s not a good time for me right now. I have something I really need to work on and now that you’ve finished eating, can we please not bother with the small talk?”

“Oh,” you say, a bit caught off guard. Chan has never been the type to cut you off when you're speaking. “No, yeah, I get it. Uhm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, just-” he sighs, sounding frustrated. “Next time can you please ask me when you want to visit in advance so this doesn’t happen again? You chose the worst timing to come by. I just need some space, from all of… this,” he says, waving a hand between the two of you.

“Sorry, I know it’s a busy time, but I just wanted to see-”

At that moment, an alarm on Chan's phone goes off, interrupting you. When he turns it off and notices the time, he swears lowly, unlocking his phone and typing out a message to somebody. You’re scared to break the silence. Less than a minute later, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Chan calls. When Changbin and Jisung step into the room, they eye you curiously. You keep your head down and try to prevent your hands from shaking as you stand and start to haphazardly shove away all your belongings and the garbage from your dinner into bags.

“Noona, it's good to see you!” Jisung says brightly, although his smile dims when you make eye contact and can only manage to weakly return the smile. “Sorry for interrupting you two.”

“Hi Hannie,” you reply quietly, not wanting to make conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

“It’s okay, Y/n was just leaving,” Chan says, his obvious annoyance making things even more awkward.

You say bye to the boys quietly and apologise as you shuffle past them to the door.

The handles of the bag from your dinner are digging into your hand painfully and your purse can’t close with the way that you’ve thrown everything into it. You only take a few steps before you have to stop for a moment to save a container from falling and decide to put down everything and reorganise it all.

When you crouch down, you take a second to mentally berate yourself. Everything you had worried about had come true. Instead of being a pleasant surprise, you had come across as a nuisance.

In your rush, you hadn't fully closed the studio door behind you and you're close enough that you can just barely pick up the conversation that happens inside.

“Sorry,” you hear Chan say faintly. “I don't know what's been going on, but Y/n has been… really clingy these days. She just showed up today without asking and I hate-”

You leave before he has the chance to say anything else. You look like a mess for sure, you had just grabbed all the empty containers without bothering to put them back into the plastic bag, your jacket is partially dragging on the ground, and your purse is hanging off your elbow, having slipped off your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear an empty drink bottle clatter to the floor behind you, but you don't look back to check.

You don't have it in you to care, you just need to leave.

Even waiting for the elevator feels humiliating, so you bypass it and stumble down the stairs. You dump the garbage into a bin on the first floor, not bothering to sort it properly, and step out onto the street, bee-lining to the nearest subway station.

The ride home passes by in a blur.

It hurts, of course it hurts.

Honestly the reason that your relationship had worked out so far was because you weren’t the kind of person that needed a lot of attention. You understood that both of you were busy and were content to just exchange messages every couple of days because you knew how important Stray Kids was to Chan. Of course you did, they were just as important to you.

If Chan wanted space, well. You were more than capable of giving it to him.

In fact, your upcoming schedule had been the reason that you had wanted to meet up in the first place, the source of your so-called clinginess. You’d never been called that before. You were hyper-independent and tended to get lost in your own mind, easily distracted by different thoughts. It had gotten to a point that most of your exes had complained at least once about you being distant or inattentive.

With Chan, you had been determined not to be the same. It had been difficult at first, to make the effort to send messages throughout the day. You had to convince yourself not to spend too long drafting replies in your head and try not to worry that you were bothering him, especially if you knew that he had schedules at the same time that you were texting.

By the time that you make it to your apartment, your pain has faded into a mixture of resignation and numbness. You don't want to talk to Chan about how you feel, it's your clinginess that he didn't like in the first place, and you don't think you'll have time or the energy for a long, emotional conversation in the next few weeks anyway. If you keep your distance for a while, it just benefits both of you, you tell yourself. You won’t be a distraction to Chan as Stray Kids has their comeback and he won’t be one to you as you take on this new project.

As much as you want to spend the rest of your night overthinking- something you’ve done more than you’d like to admit- you know that you have a busy day at work tomorrow. Feeling a bit like a zombie, you force yourself to shuffle through your usual nighttime routine, swallowing a melatonin pill before climbing into bed.

Normally, you would send Chan a good night message. Actually, normally you would have sent him a message the second that you arrived home. It was something that he was insistent on starting from early on in your relationship, wanting to make sure that you were safe.

Tonight, you just turn off your phone, plug it into its charger, and sleep.

—

In the morning, you allow yourself to wallow in bed for 5 minutes, before you get ready for work. You’ve never been good at eating breakfast and today’s no exception. Your stomach turns uneasily at the thought of food so you only force yourself to drink some water before you leave.

Your team at work has agreed to get to work earlier than usual just to get a headstart on everything. Though you’re more of a night owl, you’re grateful to find that deviating from your usual routine means that the subway is empty enough that you can find an empty seat, a luxury that you’ve rarely experienced.

It feels eerie to walk through the streets of Seoul when the sun has just started to rise and you’re relieved when you finally make it to your office.

Unsurprisingly, you’re one of the first to arrive. You’re grateful for the time that you have to unpack your things and make a much needed coffee before the rest of your team shows up.

“How did it go last night?” Jinjoo asks you excitedly when she comes in.

“Uhm, it was okay,” you reply noncommittally. “He was definitely surprised.”

“Oh,” Jinjoo pouts at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, it wasn’t bad,” you backtrack, hating to see her disappointed. “It was just so short, he was kind of… busy. But that’s what I expected anyway so that's fine I guess. Thanks for suggesting it to me though! I really appreciate it.”

“That’s good,” Jinjoo brightens. “At least you got to see him one last time.”

“Oh yeah for sure! I think that after seeing him yesterday, it’ll be easier to deal with how busy we’re going to be for the next few weeks,” you say truthfully.

It’s not a lie, you justify. For the first time since you started dating, you’re not looking forward to the next time that you’re going to see Chan.

You know that your communication is about to reduce to an all time low for the next few weeks, and while you had originally been worried about how Chan would react, now you’re thinking that he’s just going to be relieved not to hear from you. You’ve never thought yourself to have been overly chatty with Chan during the day though, preferring in-person conversation over texting and knowing that he’s generally not available to read your messages anyway, much less send you a reply. It seemed that you were wrong.

Luckily your team now has to use a shared box that you’re required to put your personal phones into during working hours and only have a little bit of time during lunch and dinner breaks, if you take them, to fish them out. It’s a policy that your company enforces when teams are working on confidential projects and you can’t blame them due to past litigation that they’ve been involved in after a former employee leaked sensitive information.

For once, you're glad for this excuse to not look at your phone, even if you feel a little bit naked to look at the side of your desk or reach into your pocket and not have your phone there. You’re relieved to bury yourself in your work and forget all about your personal life. Even though your project is just starting, you feel like you're already behind.

When you're finished work for the day and take back your phone, you find yourself reluctant to check your notifications. It's only when you're waiting for the subway to arrive at your station that you finally force yourself to take a look.

No new messages or calls from Chan.

You’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

You get back to your apartment late, you had wanted to finish a couple of things before you left the office and it had led to you being one of the last to leave. You had also stopped by the convenience store closest to your place, not having the energy to cook anything for yourself.

You pick at your dinner half-heartedly. You're used to eating alone, Chan often had his meals at odd times due to his schedules, but tonight the silence feels more oppressive.

It haunts you, the tail end of the overheard conversation. You have no idea how Chan was going to complete the sentence, but your mind unhelpfully fills in the blanks with worse and worse suggestions.

He hates the timing of your visit.

He hates that you visited at all.

He hates that he has such a clingy girlfriend.

He hates that you are his clingy, annoying, bothersome girlfriend.

He hates you.

In moments of clarity, you can recognize that it's not true. That's not the Chan that you know and he would never say something like that about anybody, least of all you. It's just hard when a small part of you has never really been able to believe that someone as talented and amazing as Chan would want to date someone as unremarkable as you.

You find yourself falling into a new routine, waking early, working overtime, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep. You succeed most of the time, you keep yourself occupied by thinking about work and you're so physically exhausted by your long hours that you fall asleep the second that you get into bed. Luckily, your coworkers are just as overworked as you are and it’s easy to blame your declining condition on the project. Weekends don't help you rest at all, you've committed to your manager that you can work on Saturdays and Sundays are spent completing the chores that you've neglected during the week.

You still talk to Chan sometimes, either right when you wake up or on the way home after work. The conversation is stilted though, both because of the long delays between messages when you text and the limited time that you have when you call. It's enough of a difference that Chan asks you multiple times if everything is okay. Even though you try your best to assure him that you're fine, just busy, you're sure he knows that something is off, although he doesn't question you further.

Most exciting is the day that the new Stray Kids album releases. You've already heard most of the songs for this comeback, perks of dating the member that's the most involved in the writing and production of the album, but it's different now that they're available to the public too. You make sure to organise your schedule so that you're on break when the music video drops and you send a number of messages in the group chat that you have with the group cheering them on. Usually, you try to take a day off to deliver some food to them at the music shows, but you've had to settle for arranging with one of their managers to treat them to a meal.

You can tell when they get breaks because when you check your phone after work, notifications from the members are all in the same blocks of time. It's mostly them thanking you, taking pictures of the food you sent, flowers that they've been gifted, and letters from fans. They have a short promotion period this comeback, but it's packed with different interviews, performances, and fanmeets. At one point, Felix even sends you a picture of Chan sleeping slumped over on one of the waiting room couches. As much as you're relieved to see that he's able to get some rest, the picture has your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

You're proud of Chan, of all of the boys. They've worked so hard and each comeback seems to be more and more successful. Even if you're not confident in what's going to happen with you and Chan in the future, you want to celebrate with them while you still can.

—

After almost four weeks, your project is nearing completion and you've never been more grateful to have a deadline arrive.

You only have a couple more days left until your last submittal is due and after getting off work, you want nothing more than to collapse into bed even though your stomach has been growling the whole walk from the bus to your building. You had caught a significant mistake in a document right before it was going to be sent to a client and the whole afternoon had been spent trying to fix it in time. Your team had just barely managed it, but your head has been pounding for hours and your whole body is tight with stress.

You’re not quite sure how you make it to your apartment, your exhaustion has made you clumsy. You struggle a couple times to enter in the code to unlock your door and trip over a pair of shoes that are scattered in the entryway.

You manage to catch yourself before you fall, then squint back. Yes, you haven’t had the chance to tidy your apartment in a couple weeks, but you’ve never been the type to leave your shoes on the walking path.

A light is on, further in your apartment. You know for a fact it wasn’t like that when you left this morning, it would have been obvious since you've been leaving before the sun rises. Someone else is here.

You stare at the light for a few seconds in disbelief, then slowly reach to grab something, anything that you might be able to use to defend yourself. Your shaking hands close around a full sized umbrella that you keep beside your closet.

You’ve already made enough commotion that there’s no way the intruder didn’t hear, but you try to keep your footsteps light as you creep down the hall to where your kitchen is. It’s stupid to try and confront them, but the idea of someone in your space, potentially taking your things, is enough to inspire a sudden bout of bravery.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, launching forward to attack the second that you see someone. You recognise the figure halfway through your swing, and though it’s too late to fully stop, you manage to pull back enough that they’re able to easily catch the umbrella before it hits them.

Chan wraps his arms around you then eases the umbrella out of your hands, resting it against the wall. You sag into his embrace, adrenaline draining away, leaving you exhausted again.

“Chan?”

You've missed this. His warmth, his comforting scent, the reassuring steadiness that he always provides. You can almost pretend that everything is fine.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“You should be,” you grumble into his shirt. “I could have seriously injured you if I didn't realise it was you!”

“I don't think that was going to be a problem.” Even though you can't see Chan, you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey!” You lightly smack his arm. “You take that back!”

“Fine, fine,” Chan acquiesces, holding up both his hands in surrender. “I'm very glad that I didn't have to experience the full power of your self defence.”

“Yeah yeah,” you huff. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than trying to give me a heart attack, that is.”

“I made you dinner,” Chan says shyly, turning pink.

“For what?” you ask suspiciously. It's easy to fall back into the banter that you typically exchange with Chan, but you can't help but be a bit wary these days.

“No reason. I uh, just haven't seen you in a while,” Chan says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck where it’s now flushed red. “We had so much preparation to do and then all our schedules… Anyway, I wanted to surprise you, so I thought I could cook for us.”

Now that he's mentioned it, you can see that he's set your tiny kitchen table and that there's a couple of pots on the stove. Chan doesn’t cook often, but he’s expressed a desire to learn before and you’ve taught him how to make a few of your favourite recipes.

You stare at him for a moment, lost for words.

It's only been a few weeks, but you feel like you've forgotten how to act around Chan. Instead of a comfortable silence, it's almost awkward, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Oh,” you say finally, touched and still a little shocked that he's actually here. “That's- that's so nice, I just- is it okay if I wash up a bit quickly first?”

“No, yeah, of course. I'm sure you had a long day,” Chan says. “Go ahead, I’ll- the food should be reheated anyway so I’ll get on that. Take your time.”

You skirt around him to go to the bathroom, taking a moment to splash yourself with water. This feels like a bizarre dream and you wonder for a moment if you’re making this all up. But when you leave to go to your bedroom, Chan’s still there, puttering around in front of your kitchenette. You change your clothes slowly, mind racing as you try to puzzle together why Chan has decided to visit all of a sudden.

You eventually settle on the most logical reason that you can think of.

He’s finally decided to break up with you.

You’ve figured that this was coming for weeks by now, but somehow it still hurts. Instead of feeling resigned, it feels like you’re shattering into little pieces. You twist your work blouse into a tiny ball as you try not to cry, even though you know the fabric is going to wrinkle terribly. You finish cleaning up in a daze, already drafting what you're going to have to message your manager later. There's no way that you're going to be in any shape to work tomorrow if you’re right.

“Y/n?” Chan calls eventually. You know you're procrastinating leaving your room, but you want to put this off for as long as possible even though you know it’s just delaying the inevitable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a heavy heart. “I’m fine. I'll just be another second.”

You can tell that Chan doesn’t quite believe you. He hovers around you when you emerge from your bedroom, knocking away your hand when you try to pull out your own chair from the table.

He's set the table, going so far as to fold little napkins under your utensils. There's even a tiny vase with your favourite flowers as a centrepiece. All this effort just hurts more.

“You look exhausted. You got home so late. Where were you?” he asks.

“I was at work,” you reply stiffly. You know that if you try and say any more, your emotions are going to spill over and you're either going to scream or cry. Maybe both.

“So late?” Chan's forehead creases with some sort of emotion. You can't quite tell if it's concern or scepticism.

“You're not the only one that has a demanding job.”

“Y/n, you know that's not what I meant-”

“Sure,” you say. “Whatever, let's just eat. Thank you for the food.”

You don't want to deal with this. You're so tired.

You have no idea why Chan’s dragging this out longer than it needs to be. Why he’s forcing you to sit through a meal with him like he’s not about to break your heart. Chan is one of the kindest people you know, he’s probably trying to make this easier for you, giving you one last nice memory, but it just feels cruel.

Chan reaches out, stopping you before you can pick up your chopsticks. He stares at the way his fingers overlap each other around your wrist.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says quietly. You look away, watching steam curl from the bowl of rice that has been set in front of you instead of returning eye contact.

“I’ve been busy.” Is all you can say in response.

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been basically subsisting on iced americanos and various convenience store meals in part because of your work schedule, but mostly because of your lack of appetite. Every time you thought of Chan, it made your stomach turn and well, everything reminded you of him. You hadn’t realised how much it had actually affected your physical condition until now though.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” he scolds you. You can feel yourself bristle at his comment even though you know it’s true. “I haven't been around to take care of you either. I'm sorry.”

“Chan,” you protest. It has been weeks since you last saw him in person and you’ve spent more time that you’d like to admit micro analysing your relationship, but you still can’t make sense of his behaviour, especially how he keeps switching between criticism and tenderness.

“What?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” Chan says, sounding hurt and confused. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I just- I don’t understand what you want from me!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “One day you don’t want me around, we go weeks without seeing each other, then you’re at my place cooking me dinner? You said you needed space, I gave you space."

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean I don’t want you around?” Chan asks, alarmed. “When have I ever said that?”

“You made it pretty clear that you didn’t appreciate it when I went to bring you dinner that day,” you start.

“No, baby!” Chan stands up abruptly before you can say anything else. He falters when the loud scrape of his chair causes you to flinch back. He slowly walks towards you and kneels in front of you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. His eyes are wide with earnestness. “Of course I wanted to spend time with you. I always want to be with you.”

“So why did you call me clingy?” you ask in a small voice. Gone is your anger, replaced with a self-consciousness that you can’t hide. You look away as tears prickle your eyes.

Gently, Chan lets go of your hands and cups your cheeks instead, turning your face so that he can see you better. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape.

“Baby,” he says, sounding even more upset and angry than you feel. “I'm sorry. Did someone tell you I said that?”

“Nobody had to tell me, I heard you say it myself!” you burst out, pushing Chan away. You know that you’re being dramatic, that you keep oscillating between different emotions, but you don’t care. “That day, in your studio, you told Han and Changbin that I was really clingy.”

“You heard me talking to Binnie and Hannie?” Chan asks slowly.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sniffle. One of Chan's hands shifts and he carefully tucks behind a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face. The gentleness makes even more tears well up.

“It's okay, I think I know what you overheard now. It must have hurt, right?”

You can't muster up a response, choosing instead to just nod slightly.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he soothes you. “Can I explain myself?”

You pause for a moment, then slowly nod again.

“I don't mind that you're clingy, actually, I like it. I shouldn't have used that word. I like that you want to spend time with me, Y/n,” Chan says carefully. “I like that you take time to visit me, even though I know that your work is busy too. I think that it's cute and thoughtful that you think of me and try to take care of me by bringing me food. I know that you intentionally take the time out of your day to text me because you know that I like hearing from you, even though I might not see it or respond right away.”

Chan pauses for a second and you use it as an opportunity to pull away slightly. His hands tighten briefly, before he lets them fall away, giving you the space to process.

It's not that you don't like what Chan is saying, it's just hard to reconcile it with the thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past few weeks. You still don't understand what you overheard though, how it fits into all of this. When you voice your concerns to Chan, he sighs, before continuing to speak.

“I don't know what I did to have someone as caring and thoughtful as you in my life.” You want to protest, but Chan carries on before you can say anything. “It's just that- you visited me without notice and were the sweetest person in the world. I wanted to spend time with you, believe me, I did, but I can't just ignore my deadlines when the rest of the members are relying on me. It makes me feel like garbage when I can’t give you all my attention. That's the thing I hate the most. That I can't be the boyfriend that you deserve. That I can't show you how much you mean to me the way that I want to.”

It makes sense, in some sort of twisted way. You know that similarly to you, Chan often feels insecure. It had taken a while before you had been able to convince him that you really did want to be in a relationship with him even with all of the difficulties that were associated with being an idol. You hadn't realised that your visit had fed into his worries that he wasn’t enough.

“I didn't know,” you say quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't tell you how I was feeling and that's on me. I’m the one that’s sorry, you have no reason to be. I should have been clearer about what was going through my mind and it wasn't any excuse for the way that spoke to you. Even if I wasn't at my best, I can't believe that I made you feel like I didn't want you to be around.” Chan shakes his head and you can tell that he's beating himself up about it. This time, you're the one that reaches out to him, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“I am sorry that I put you into that position, though. I got caught up in the idea of how fun and romantic it might be, that I didn't give enough consideration to your schedule. Even though I wanted to surprise you, it would have been better to check with you beforehand. I don't ever want you to have to feel like you have to choose between me and work.”

“It was a really nice surprise,” Chan agrees. “I wish that I hadn't been so wrapped up that I wasn't able to enjoy spending time with you. I really hated not being able to see you these past few weeks.”

“It was really hard for me too,” you admit.

“I missed you so much. I missed your beautiful voice, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. I missed all the texts that you usually send, they make me feel like I'm not as far away, that I'm a part of your day too. You kept saying that everything was fine and- I know it's hard for you, especially during comeback periods when I'm not as responsive. I didn't want to pressure you into messaging me more often if I'm not able to do the same.”

“No, it's not that. It doesn't bother me. Work was, is still really busy for me,” you explain. “I was trying to tell you that day, but-”

“But I basically shut you down,” Chan realises. He laughs bitterly. “I’m just the worst, aren't I? No wonder you were so confused by why I was here.”

“I thought you were going to break up with me tonight,” you whisper. Chan looks devastated by your statement.

“No- you know I wouldn't-” Chan stumbles on his words in his haste to correct you.

“I don't think that anymore,” you reassure him. “I understand everything now, it was just that we didn't communicate well and I assumed… It's okay, we're together now, this won't happen again.”

“I promise that I will make it up to you. I love you and I will prove it to you in every way possible. And I'm going to start right now. You still haven't eaten yet, please go ahead.” Chan moves back to his abandoned chair and doles out a portion of the stew from the pot that's on the table.

“I am really hungry,” you confess. Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter.

Just like that, it feels like things are back to normal.

You know that there's still more that you and Chan have to talk about. The two of you have only scratched the surface on your insecurities, communication, and how those things led to such a significant misunderstanding.

But tonight, it's enough that you get to share a meal with the man that you love.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

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talkingsaxy · 4 months ago

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PHOTOS YOU'VE TAKEN OF YOUR BOYFRIEND CHAN

please don't repost, requests open!

#skz #skz headcanons #stray kids headcanons #skz scenarios #skz fics #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz reactions #skz bang chan #bang chan #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #skz fluff #stray kids

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seospicybin · 5 months ago

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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART I

Bangchan x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II / Part III / Final.

Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)

Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x

It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.

The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that

So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.

"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.

Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.

However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.

The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.

The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.

"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.

"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.

Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.

"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.

Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.

"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."

The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"

"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.

The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.

"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.

"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.

"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.

"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.

"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.

"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.

The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"

"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.

"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"

"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.

The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."

"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.

Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.

"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.

"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.

Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.

The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.

In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.

From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.

Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.

"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"

"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.

Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.

"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.

You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.

"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.

"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"

"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.

"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.

"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.

"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.

All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."

The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.

"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.

Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.

"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.

"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.

To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.

"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.

It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.

He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.

"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.

There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.

There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"

Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.

He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.

"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"

When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.

"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.

"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."

With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"

It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.

"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.

"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.

It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.

"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.

"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.

It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.

When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.

When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.

"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.

Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.

Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.

All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area

So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?

It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.

Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.

There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.

But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.

Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!

Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.

As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!

Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.

With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.

Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.

The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.

Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.

You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.

"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.

The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.

"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"

"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"

Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...

"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.

"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.

"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.

The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.

Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.

Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.

He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.

He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.

"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.

Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.

Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.

"Is that for me?"

The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.

"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.

"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."

"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."

See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.

"Thank you," you add with a smile.

Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.

Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.

"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.

"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.

It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.

"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"

You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.

"Milk would be nice," he answers.

"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.

You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.

After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.

"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.

You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.

"Oh?" You meekly gasp.

"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.

"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."

"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.

You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.

"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.

The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.

"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.

That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.

"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."

Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.

"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.

You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."

"How long you've been dating each other?"

"Three years," you answer.

"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.

Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.

"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.

"My help?"

"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.

"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.

It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."

Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.

"I guess you want to let him down gently?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."

Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.

"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.

"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.

Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.

"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.

"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.

"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.

You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.

"She already left," you tell him.

Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.

"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.

"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.

You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.

"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.

The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.

The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.

"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.

"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.

Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.

"How did it go?" He asks.

"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.

Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.

"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.

"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.

"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.

It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.

Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.

"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.

Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.

"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.

Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.

"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.

"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."

Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.

"We can practice, you know," he offers.

"Practice?"

"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.

He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.

The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.

"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.

Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door

Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.

The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.

The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.

"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"

Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.

"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.

"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.

"That sounds nice," you easily respond.

"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?

"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.

"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."

You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.

"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.

"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.

"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"

"So glad," you lie, again and again.

"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.

"Okay."

"Don't forget the wine!"

"I won't."

"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.

The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."

"I love you, bye."

Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.

Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.

Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"

"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.

It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.

You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.

"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.

He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."

You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.

However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.

"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"

Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.

The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.

"Get it together!" You scold yourself.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.

"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.

"Hardly," he jokes.

You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.

"Okay, so, why am I here?"

You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."

It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.

"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.

"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"

You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.

"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.

Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.

"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.

"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.

It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.

"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."

Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.

Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.

"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.

"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.

Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.

"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.

"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.

The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.

He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."

You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.

He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.

"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.

It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.

It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.

Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.

Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.

But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.

"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.

You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.

Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.

"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.

Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.

"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.

"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.

When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.

"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.

"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.

You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.

"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.

"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"

The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.

Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.

From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.

"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.

"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.

Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.

The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.

"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.

You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.

He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.

"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."

Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.

To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.

As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.

He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.

As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.

"I want this, Chris," you croak.

"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.

"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.

You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.

"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.

This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.

He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.

"Yes," you answer without a beat.

That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.

Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.

Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.

He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.

He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.

To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.

"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.

He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.

"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.

He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.

The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.

At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.

"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.

Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.

You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.

Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.

The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.

He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.

Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.

He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.

On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.

He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.

Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.

You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.

He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.

"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.

You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.

Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.

"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.

It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.

Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.

"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.

Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.

He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.

As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.

He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.

"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.

Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.

A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.

The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.

Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.

"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.

Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.

"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.

He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.

He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.

Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.

The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.

"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."

Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.

"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.

"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.

Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.

When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.

A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.

He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.

Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.

Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.

Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.

At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.

Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.

You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.

Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.

"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.

"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.

Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.

"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.

"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."

Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"

"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.

"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.

You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.

"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.

Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.

"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.

He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."

You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.

You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.

"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.

You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.

There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.

He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"

You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.

Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.

The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.

His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"

"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."

And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?

Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.

"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.

You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.

Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.

That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.

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@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @cutiespaghetti @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @9900z

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

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bbokicidal · 6 months ago

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"I Don't Have A Girlfriend." - H.H [SKZ]

Summary : In which you go with Hyunjin to get his wisdom teeth removed.

Warnings : Hyunjin all doped up at the dentist for shits n giggles, felix/seungmin/changbin laughing at him, teasing banter, mention of binnie's bday gift from minho

"What year is it?"

"2024. Halfway through, baby." You laugh, hand coming up to the arm of the chair he lays in to rest there in case he tries to move around. And he does, sitting himself up a bit as if he's worried he's late for something.

Hyunjin huffs out a breath through his nose, turning his head to look at you. You can't deny that he looks god awful and adorable at the same time; Hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep and cheeks swollen far more than usual from the medication and procedure he'd just undergone. "How long was I asleep?"

You pull your notification tab down with the tip of your index finger to check. "They put you under about an hour and a half ago, so you were asleep for.. I don't know, twenty minutes after they were done?"

"Twenty..." His voice trails off, soft and grumbly from just waking up. His lips press together before parting again, forced open by the gauze in his mouth and cheeks. His head turns towards the door and then down to the thin blanket placed over his body. Slowly, he begins to relax back into the chair.

Your hand comes up to rest along his cheek, brushing over the skin just barely before moving to pull hair back from his face. He blinks tiredly and keeps his eyes down, focused on the way his hands move under the blanket as he tries to pull it up further towards his shoulders. "Feeling okay, bubs?"

He huffs again, sighing out in what seems like distress that he's too sleepy to truly convey. "I have to go soon."

"Go where, baby?" You chuckle, curious on where his mind was wandering as the drugs slowly wore off.

His lips smack once, twice, and he blinks open his eyes again to look at you. It's a silly sight, his head tipped down toward the blanket and face pudgy with the angle. "I have a dinner date later. With ..."

You smile. "We rescheduled our dinner date for next week, Jinnie, remember? We'll have that dinner date eventually, don't worry."

"No.."

"No?" You grin this time, giggling out when he seems to reject the dinner offer. "You don't want to go on a dinner date with your girlfriend, baby?"

A few chuckles come from the screen of your phone. You'd facetimed Felix as soon as he'd asked you to after you'd told him Hyunjin was waking up. He insisted he needed to see what his hyung would be like all doped up at the dentist. So at the present moment, Felix's left eye and Seungmin's forehead fill the screen - and you know Changbin is lingering somewhere in the background.

Hyunjin clicks his tongue before his nose crinkles in careful regret. He adjusts in the chair, tugging the blanket fully up to his chin as he hums out. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Seungmin's laugh breaks the soft silence that fills the room and Hyunjin peeks open an eye in confusion as to where it came from.

"I'm your girlfriend, Jinnie." You remind him in a playful tone, still laughing through it all. Your hand finds his under the blanket and as the words settle in, his brows crinkle together.

"Uh, no." He blinks a few times at you, lips pursing. "I have a wife waiting for me at home. You can't be my girlfriend."

Your expression falls deadpan - but it all seemed worth it when Changbin's laughter exploded from your phone speaker, mixed with the sound of Felix dropping his phone as he fell to the floor cackling and Seungmin hitting the couch cushions in amusement.

Your eyes roll and you look back to your boyfriend, amused. "Right. Forgot you were married."

His lips purse once more, tongue sliding over them slowly as he realizes they're numbed still, before his eyes slip back shut in peace. "Mhm. My wife has pink underwear, too."

"Your wife has WHAT?"

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagine #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin x you #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids scenario #skz imagines #skz fic

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soobnny · 22 days ago

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we'll never have sex — changbin x reader ; established relationship & hurt/comfort (1.2k words)

there is nothing more beautiful than the promise of love even if you cannot guarantee or give that certain level of intimacy just yet

for my girls with a complicated relationship w sex & yes this is based off of leith ross’ song

Facetimes with Changbin always last longer than they should.

Had it been anyone else, the call would’ve dropped more than an hour ago. You’d have been found guilty for finding any excuse to warrant you some silence–the slightest tinge of awkwardness, the moment conversation runs out, faking plans.

Never with Changbin.

The static of phone calls stretch on, neither of you having moved much. You can’t remember how long it’d been since either of you said something, but you’ve never minded. The quiet that came with your boyfriend had always felt comfortable. Almost safe.

In your periphery, just at the top most right of your screen, you can see him sprawled across his bed, signature hoodie to match the boyfriend look, and fingers lazily scrolling through his phone.

“Still awake, baby?” His voice breaks the silence, teasing almost, but still gentle.

“Mhm.” You hum, shifting in your position a little. “But ‘m a little sleepy.”

“You should go to bed.”

“No.” Changbin chuckles at your refusal, deep and raspy through the phone. His eyes are crinkled at the corners, distinguishably fond even with the poor quality of the video.

For a second, you allow yourself to just watch the boy–his glazed eyes, the softness in his features accentuated by the low light of his room, the warmth of his smile.

Almost safe. Almost reassuring.

You wonder if it’s all a facade, wonder when he’d finally break, wonder when he’d leave you because you refuse to let him do anything beyond a kiss. Maybe no amount of love, even from the right person like Changbin, will ever be enough to change that.

You try to scold yourself. Self-destructing thoughts are too familiar, they reverberate in your head like you’d been thinking about it for a while, like they’d been practiced and practiced until permanently tattooed.

The tears come without warning, mid-scolding. Big and heavy and warm. They pool at the edges of your version, and it makes you feel pathetic that you hurry to press the sleeve of your hoodie against your face.

Changbin notices immediately.

“Hey.” his voice sharpens, the playful edge he’d been sporting earlier gone in a split second. “(Name)? Baby, hey, look at me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, and oh god, he’s going to leave you. He’s going to leave you because you’re such a crybaby, and anyone with a normal fucking mind wouldn’t do this to him. Anyone under normal—kinder—circumstances wouldn’t think like this.

“Baby.” He tries again, softer this time. “Talk to me.”

Your throat tightens around something akin to a lump. You try to swallow it down.

“Why’re you crying? What’s wrong?”

There’s a long pause before you finally speak.

“What if I… what if…” You start, voice barely above a whisper. You don’t know how to continue, words disjointed and dismembered. “If I said you could never touch me, would you still want to be with me?”

Changbin pauses for a fraction of a second, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion. But you go on, inundating him with the fears that have spent your entire life trying to catch up with you.

“I can’t give you what you want. It’s what you want, isn’t it? Would you still stay with me even if I told you that I never want to have sex?”

The boy’s expression softens immediately. He can hear his own heart break at how fragile you sound, at how shattering it is to look at your tear-streaked face through a screen, at the things that could’ve transpired for you to think that he’d ever leave you because of that, just because of something so menial to him in a relationship.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “That doesn’t change anything.”

His words are meant to be comforting, the small but sure smile on his lips should’ve been enough to return your peace, but instead, the tears well up again. Heavier this time.

“Wait. Wait, wait—hold on.” His face suddenly disappears off the screen as he fumbles with his phone. He sounds rushed. “I’m… I can’t just look at you cry and not do anything about it.”

Then the call ends.

It isn’t until fifteen minutes later when a sudden knock on your door shakes you from your self-pity do you see him again. And he’s standing there, slightly out of breath, the same hoodie you’d seen earlier half-zipped with his hair tousled from the cold wind outside.

“Binnie.” Your voice cracks. “What are you doing here?”

Changbin doesn’t say anything at first, just allows himself to look at you—eyes tracing over the tear stains on your cheeks, and the way you’re hugging yourself with the sleeves of one of his jackets.

Then, without a word, he slips a hand beneath your jaw, tilting your face to look you in the eyes. His palms on your skin feel warm, calloused but gentle as he cradles you in his hands. “I think…” He pauses.

A heartbeat passes.

“I think you look lovely.” He murmurs, tone low and gentle, abating the tempestuous anxieties swelling in the pit of your stomach. “And I love you. Not because of what you think I’m expecting from you, but because I love you. The entirety of you.”

You press your face into the crook of his neck as an ugly sob escapes your throat. The tears spill over again, faster, and you feel so ridiculous for crying even more in front of him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He pulls back, leaning in to press a kiss to your wet cheeks. His voice is firm, but not unkind. Never unkind. And his eyes held no hesitation, no flicker of doubt in the way he’s looking at you right now. “Did I say anything to make you feel this way?”

Changbin tries to hide how he feels about his question, like he could never imagine being the reason why you’re sobbing like this.

“No, oh my god. Binnie, no. It’s not you.”

“Okay, it’s not me.” His voice is still kind, relieved. “I’m never expecting anything from you, okay?”

And just as gentle as he’s holding you, he kisses you. Nothing desperate, nothing hurried even. Just slow and lingering, like he’s savoring the moment for exactly what it is. He isn’t kissing you to take you to bed, not to ask for anything more, not even to change your mind.

Changbin kisses you just to kiss you.

Just to hopefully show you that he means everything he said to you.

“I’ll take care of you.” His fingers thread through your hair. “I love you.”

Quietly, tiredly, you start to show a small smile. “Thank you.”

Loving you is so easy for Changbin. Like second nature. Like falling in love with your laughter, and the little parts of you that make up your sum. And you’re aware that it’s going to take time to heal yourself—that it won’t be so easy all the time, that there will be days like these again, but you also know enough that he is genuine and that he loves you with no expectations even if it’s hard to believe sometimes.

Seo Changbin loves you with every bit of conscience he was born with. He loves you simply.

You stay like this for a while. Safe. Reassuring. Until you feel the sickness less and less.

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rmview · 1 month ago

Text

accidentally sending a nude, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — what happens when the stray kids boys accidentally send you an inappropriate picture!

contents — crack, flirting, suggestive.

bang ⁺ chan

bang chan was known for being responsible and composed, but even the most reliable people had their moments. he had been working late, distractedly multitasking between responding to texts from the members, fans, and — most nerve-wracking of all — you.

you two had been flirting back and forth for weeks, and tonight was no different. your witty banter put him in a good mood, and before he knew it, he was sending a selfie from the gym, shirt drenched in sweat.

but in his rush, he didn’t notice that the picture he sent wasn’t the one he intended. instead of the gym selfie, it was an older picture—one of him just out of the shower, shirtless, with a towel slung dangerously low on his hips.

seconds later, he realized his mistake.

his heart stopped.

“oh my god,” he muttered, staring at his phone in horror as the “read” indicator popped up. his mind raced. should he delete the message? send a follow-up explanation? throw his phone into the nearest body of water?

before he could do anything, your reply came through.

...well, that’s not what i expected, but i’m not complaining.

his face turned a deep shade of red as he ran a hand through his hair, groaning in embarrassment.

“i am so sorry,” he quickly typed, his thumbs trembling as he sent the message. “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send a gym selfie. please ignore that. oh my god, i’m mortified.”

you replied almost immediately.

relax, chan. it’s not like i haven’t imagined you looking like that anyway. 😉

his jaw dropped. was this flirting? were you actually flirting back after he’d just humiliated himself?

“wait… really?” he replied, cautious yet intrigued.

really. but next time, make sure you send the right picture.

chan exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he smiled at the screen. “noted,” he typed back, still mortified but secretly thrilled. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a disaster after all.

felix ⁺

felix was a bit of a perfectionist, especially when it came to interactions with you. he’d spent weeks carefully navigating the line between friendly and flirty, hoping to gauge your interest without coming on too strong.

so when he accidentally sent that picture, he nearly dropped his phone in panic.

he’d just finished a workout and taken a picture to check his progress — a mirror selfie of him shirtless, muscles taut, and a playful smirk on his face. he’d meant to send it to chan, but somehow, it ended up in your chat.

“no, no, no, no!” felix exclaimed, his freckles standing out against the sudden flush of his cheeks.

he stared at the screen in horror, the little “delivered” icon taunting him.

your reply came faster than he expected.

wow… nice progress, felix. 👀

he froze. were you teasing him? he wasn’t sure if he should laugh, apologize, or crawl under a rock. finally, he decided to address it head-on.

“i am so sorry!” he typed furiously. “that was not meant for you. please ignore it. i’m mortified.”

you replied with a laughing emoji.

it’s fine. honestly, i didn’t know you were this fit. guess i’ve been missing out.

felix’s heart skipped a beat. was that… interest?

“well… thanks, i guess?” he replied, still unsure how to handle the situation. “but seriously, i didn’t mean to send that. i’m usually more careful.”

well, i’m glad you weren’t this time.

felix smiled at your cheeky response despite himself. maybe his mistake wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

lee ⁺ know

lee know had always been careful about boundaries. he enjoyed teasing you and keeping things light, but he never pushed too far. that’s why, when he realized he’d sent the wrong picture, he felt a wave of panic unlike anything he’d experienced before.

the picture wasn’t obscene, but it was suggestive — a shirtless shot of him lounging in bed, his sweatpants hanging low, with a hint of his toned stomach on full display. he’d taken it to mess around with hyunjin but somehow sent it to you instead.

his phone buzzed immediately.

...well, this is a surprise.

lee know stared at your message, his ears turning red as he groaned, tossing his phone onto the couch. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

after a minute of debating whether to respond, he finally picked up his phone.

“that was not for you,” he typed, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. “sorry about that. just… forget you saw it.”

your reply came swiftly.

forget it? why would i? you look good, minho. 😏

his heart skipped a beat. “are you teasing me right now?” he replied, his confidence creeping back in.

maybe... or maybe i’m just being honest.

lee know smirked at the screen, his embarrassment fading. “well, if honesty is what we’re doing, then maybe i should admit that i don’t mind you seeing it.”

“good,” you replied. “because i didn’t mind seeing it either.”

for the first time that evening, lee know relaxed, realizing that his mistake might just have opened a door he hadn’t been brave enough to walk through himself.

hyun ⁺ jin

hyunjin had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his interactions with you reflected that. he adored teasing you with his flirtatious comments and playful winks, but he never imagined crossing a line — until tonight.

he was sitting in his art room, surrounded by scattered sketches, when he decided to take a break. swept up in a moment of self-appreciation, he snapped a quick mirror selfie to show off his post-dance practice glow — shirtless, slightly tousled hair, and his sweatpants riding dangerously low. he sent it off to his group chat with the caption, “behold: the main character.”

or so he thought.

when he saw your name at the top of the chat instead, his heart plummeted.

“no, no, no…” he whispered, fumbling with his phone. his fingers hovered over the “unsend” button, but it was too late — your message popped up almost instantly.

well, that’s something i wasn’t expecting tonight. 👀

hyunjin’s face turned crimson, and he buried his head in his hands. his mind raced with what to say, every option feeling inadequate. finally, he mustered a response.

“its not what it looks like,” he typed, his embarrassment palpable even through the screen. “i meant to send it to the group chat. i’m so sorry, seriously.”

your reply came faster than he anticipated.

aw, don’t be embarrassed, hyunjin. you look… good. really good.

he froze, rereading your message. was this real? were you flirting back?

“wait… are you being serious right now?” he asked hesitantly.

completely serious. but if you’re this shy over a picture, i can’t imagine how you’d react if i saw you in person like this.

hyunjin let out a breathy laugh, his embarrassment melting into nervous excitement. “you’re not making this easier, you know,” he replied.

who said i’m trying to make it easier?

he leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips at your teasing response. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

don’t pretend you don’t love it.

hyunjin shook his head, his heart pounding. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly turning into the most exhilarating conversation he’d ever had with you.

i.n ⁺

jeongin prided himself on being composed despite his age, but tonight, all that confidence vanished in an instant. he’d been lounging on his bed after practice, casually snapping a picture to capture the golden glow of the setting sun through his window.

the photo was innocent enough, or so he thought — a relaxed pose, shirtless, with the blanket barely covering his hips. it was meant for seungmin, who’d jokingly challenged him to “prove” he was resting properly.

but in his sleepy haze, jeongin accidentally sent it to you instead.

he realized his mistake almost immediately when your name popped up with a notification. his stomach dropped, and panic set in.

your message arrived seconds later:

uh… is this the kind of ‘resting’ you meant to show me? 😳

jeongin groaned, burying his face in his pillow. “oh my god, i’m an idiot,” he muttered. he typed back as quickly as his trembling hands allowed.

“i am so sorry. that was not meant for you. please, just delete it and pretend this never happened.”

you replied almost immediately, and his heart raced as he opened your message.

delete it? why would i do that when it’s such a nice view?

his mouth fell open, a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief coursing through him. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or crawl under his blanket and never come out.

“are you seriously teasing me right now?” he finally typed, his cheeks burning.

maybe... but can you blame me? you’re not exactly making it easy to ignore.

jeongin let out a nervous chuckle, shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

i know.

jeongin sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his face. while the initial shock of his mistake lingered, he couldn’t deny that your reaction made it worth the embarrassment.

han ⁺

han had always been impulsive, and that trait extended to his texting habits. he’d just finished a late-night studio session and decided to take a mirror selfie to show off his new haircut. the picture wasn’t inappropriate, but it was suggestive — he was shirtless, his hair slightly damp from a shower, with a cheeky grin on his face.

he meant to send it to chan, but in his half-asleep state, he sent it to you instead.

it wasn’t until your message came through that he realized his mistake.

right in front of my salad? 🤨

han’s eyes widened, and he sat up so fast he nearly knocked over his coffee mug. “oh no,” he muttered, his hands shaking as he typed back.

“omg, i’m so sorry! that was not meant for you! i was trying to send it to chan. please just forget you saw it.”

your reply came a moment later:

why? it was a nice picture. you should send me more.

han’s jaw dropped, his mind racing. was this really happening? were you actually flirting with him?

“wait, are you serious right now?” he replied cautiously.

very serious. you look good, han. don’t be so shy about it.

his face turned red, but a smile crept onto his lips. “i’m not shy!” he typed back defensively.

sure, you’re not...

han let out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re dangerous, you know that?”

says the guy with his tiddies out for the world to see. wait, i wonder how much i can sell this for on ebay...

he flushed and sighed, leaning back in his chair. what started as a mortifying mistake was quickly becoming the most crack-filled interaction he’d ever had with you. maybe his impulsiveness wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

seung ⁺ min

seungmin was always known for his sharp wit and calm demeanor, rarely letting things rattle him. but tonight, that composure was nowhere to be found.

after a long day, he decided to respond to a group chat message with a selfie he’d taken earlier — a casual, post-workout shot that showed him in a tank top, his hair slightly messy, and his usual confident smirk. the picture wasn’t provocative, but it was undeniably attractive.

except he didn’t send it to the group chat. he sent it to you.

seungmin froze as he realized what he had done. his usual sharp mind went blank, replaced by a surge of panic. before he could even think of a way to delete it, your reply came through.

well, i wasn’t expecting this, but i’m not complaining. 😏

he stared at your message, his ears turning red as he tried to come up with a response. this wasn’t like him at all — how could he make such a mistake?

“uh, that wasn’t meant for you,” he finally typed, his thumbs trembling slightly. “i was trying to send it to the group chat. my bad.”

your reply came almost instantly.

no need to apologize, bbg. honestly, it’s nice to see this side of you. you look good, seungmin.

his jaw clenched as he reread your words. you were complimenting him?

“i didn’t mean for you to see it,” he replied quickly. “but… thanks, i guess?”

why so shy all of a sudden? i didn’t think you’d get flustered this easily.

“i’m not flustered,” he replied, though your teasing and his red face told a different story.

sure you’re not. but for what it’s worth, you’ve definitely made my night.

seungmin let out a small, awkward laugh, his confidence slowly returning. “well, i’m glad my mistake could entertain you,” he replied.

it’s more… eye-opening, than entertaining. although my rose toy would disagree.

seungmin choked, rereading your words. maybe this wasn’t the disaster he thought it was.

chang ⁺ bin

changbin was naturally confident, his playful energy making him the life of any room. but even he wasn’t immune to moments of pure, unfiltered embarrassment — like the one he was having now.

it started innocently enough: he’d taken a mirror selfie at the gym to show off his progress, flexing his biceps with a grin that screamed, “look at me, i’m unstoppable.” it was meant for chan, who’d been teasing him about skipping arm day.

but in his haste, changbin accidentally sent the picture to you.

the moment he realized his mistake, his stomach dropped. “oh no,” he muttered, staring at the screen in horror.

your reply came faster than he could process.

wow, changbin… showing off for me now? 👀

he groaned, his confidence taking a nosedive. he quickly typed back, “that was not meant for you. i was trying to send it to chan. please ignore it!”

you didn’t ignore it. instead, you replied,

why would you send it to him? and why should i ignore it? you look amazing honestly, you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.

changbin blinked, your words catching him off guard. were you… complimenting him?

“wait… are you kidding me?” he replied cautiously.

of course not, i mean, if you’re gonna send me pictures like this, don’t blame me for appreciating them.

changbin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “well, i wasn’t exactly trying to impress you, but… thanks, i guess?”

who said you didn’t impress me?

his heart skipped a beat at your tease, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “i guess if you’re not mad, i shouldn’t be so worried,” he typed, his confidence returning.

not mad at all. in fact, feel free to send more anytime.

changbin laughed out loud, shaking his head. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

and you love it.

“maybe i do,” he replied, surprising even himself with his boldness.

what started as an embarrassing mistake had suddenly become one of the most fun conversations he’d ever had with you.

notes: hoez in the house ( my smut fic is taking forever to finish :( )

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mixtape-racha · 1 year ago

Text

greenlight | lee minho

☆ part 2/8 of the 5 seconds of stray kids series ☆

words: 1.56k // warnings: soft dom!minho, dumbification (kinda)

“tell me you want me. tell me you want this as much as i do. we could have all night if you just say the word.”

and when minho looked at you with those bright eyes you’d grown to love, how could you deny him? in fact, you were sure you wanted this more than anything in the world.

your arms swung with minho’s hand in yours as you left the movie theater and headed back to the bus stop. it was your second official date after he asked you to be his girlfriend, and a movie after dinner seemed perfect - neither of you particularly enjoyed loud or flashy things anyway; your first date ever was literally just visiting the animal shelter and admiring the cute cats there.

although you had had your fair share of relationships during your early adulthood, you were sure that minho was your first real love. being with him, everything was perfect, and it made you feel like you were floating above cloud nine. you were lucky to live so close to him, too - being only across the hall in your respective university apartments - which meant you could spend as much time as you wanted with him to develop your budding relationship.

in fact, you only had one line left to cross. minho was in no rush to have sex with you - well, thats what he told himself, anyway. of course, he wanted to. everything you did was like a drug to him, and many of your date nights ended in him sloppily fucking into his palm before the scent of your perfume left his hoodie. but he was never going to rush you into it, and you had shown him no sign of needing him as bad as he needed you.

but god, he couldn’t have been more wrong. your trusty vibrator had finally given up and died from so much use after you and minho began your relationship. all he had to do was wink at you, and you were soaking. let alone if he put his hand on your thigh while driving, or leant down to whisper in your ear during a party. even during the movie - all he did was rub your arm comfortingly where he had an arm over your shoulders, and you had to clench your thighs to stop you from pouncing on him then and there. but you didn’t want to rush or push him into sleeping with you, and he seemed to have himself together a lot better than you did.

god, both of you were so oblivious.

you had decided very early into your meal - minho had insisted on taking you for sushi and stopping at a milkshake place on your way to the cinema - that you were going to stay at his dorm that night. now, with your skimpy underwear and innate craving to feel him all over you, you weren’t sure it was your best idea. i mean, after all, what was stopping you from pouncing on him like a wild animal in desperate need for a meal?

the bus ride was quiet - it was pretty busy, and neither of you particularly enjoyed that, so you situated yourselves at the back of the bus, sharing minho’s headphones as arctic monkey played. his flatmates (jisung and hyunjin) had gone out for a gig tonight, taking his car, and so you knew they would end up drunk in the backseat, parked in a random mcdonalds parking lot, leaving the entire dorm for the two of you until the early afternoon, most likely.

that thought had you craving your boyfriend even more, knowing you could be as loud as you wanted, and maybe - if he wanted to explore - not be confined to just his bedroom.

it wasn’t that either of you were inexperienced, but the idea of taking such a big step in your relationship was so important to you both that neither of you wanted it to be a rushed or impulsive decision. but god, you wanted him more and more as the bus approached your stop. you knew he wouldn’t care that you weren’t in pretty lingerie, or that you hadn’t shaved your legs. you knew he would think you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and you knew he’d voice that too. he would do anything to make you feel special and loved, and that night what you needed was him to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you.

the bus finally reached your stop, and you were so out of it that you allowed minho to manhandle you to your feet, pulling you along after thanking the driver. he chuckled at your vacant expression, rubbing your cheek softly.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby, hmm?” he questioned as you entered the elevator, only moments away from his apartment where you could finally have him all to yourself. your words seemed to betray you, mouth working faster than your brain as his words made you tremble.

“need you, min. just– need you.” your words came out as a whine as you nuzzled your head into his shoulder, which slightly inhibited his ability to lead you out of the elevator and to his front door, but he didn’t mind at all.

“yeah? want me to take you all night, huh?” you had previously discussed all your likes and dislikes in bed just to cover all bases before anything actually happened, and unsurprisingly a lot of your kinks lined up with minho’s perfectly. “just say the word, angel, and you know i’ll give you anything you want.”

he knew that when you were tired and needy, you almost lost the capacity to think for yourself, and that you were more than willing to submit yourself fully to him and let him do all the thinking for you. he was more than happy to indulge you like that, but he needed to be sure you were in the correct headspace to consent - especially as it would be your first time together doing more than heatedly making out or going down on one another.

he lead you gently into the apartment, kneeling down to help you rid yourself of your shoes and your jacket before pulling you into a warm hug. you both swayed gently in the entryway, your brain firing at almost 100 miles a second, hands grasping onto your boyfriend’s skin wherever they could reach.

“please, min. just wanna be good for you, want you to make me feel good.”

your words were all he needed to pull you into a searing kiss, guiding your hands to rest on his hips while his wandered upwards to cup your cheeks. without breaking the kiss - he had the layout of the apartment mapped in his head - he carefully guided you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed once you were both inside.

his tongue pressed on your lower lip, demanding dominance before you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to massage yours in the nicest way possible. all the while, his hands were nimbly working on your shirt buttons, popping them open with ease before he slipped the sleeves down your arms and discarded the item behind him.

left clad in just your cycling shorts and bra, all of your senses seemed heightened, and you whined pathetically as the material of minho’s shirt rubbed against your bare skin.

“what’s wrong, hmm?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours to mumble out the words. you whimpered and tugged at the hem of his shirt, which made him chuckle. “use your words, baby, or i can;t give you what you want.”

“shirt, min,” you whimpered, eyebrows furrowed as you pulled away from the kiss and looked up at him with doe eyes. “off.”

yet another chuckle left his lips, and he pushed you back gently until you fell on the bed, reaching up to rid himself of his shirt.

“why don’t you take those shorts off for me, love. wanna see if those pretty panties you’re hiding look as good as that bra, yeah?”

he was so condescending in the best way, and it lit a spark in your core. your body seemed to be working on its own as you peeled your shorts off and laid out on the bed to show yourself off to him. this seemed to please him as he grinned and removed his jeans, crawling onto the bed and resting above you using his arms for support.

“you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” when you whined again, he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand and a glint in his eye. “stop stressing your pretty head, baby. i’m gonna take care of you - just wanna look at you first.”

it was something he enjoyed, just looking at you. admiring you, if you will. knowing you were all for him, so pliant and willing to do anything asked before he could ever finish a sentence. it was a power trip, for sure, knowing you trusted him enough to have complete control over you like this, and he loved every second.

seeing how you squirmed under him, under his stare, had his throbbing in his boxers and he couldn’t wait to ravish you. the flush on your cheeks, spreading down your chest and across your ears. he’d never seen anything more beautiful, and he couldn’t wait a second longer to show you that.

he shushed your whines with a gentle kiss to your lips, reaching down to hook your leg over his hip.

“hush now, pretty girl. i’ll take care of you. let that pretty brain go blank, and let me do all the thinking and work for you, yeah?”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @skz-streamer @hyunjiins @backintomykpopphaseagain @demetrisscarf

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hyprfixate · 27 days ago

Text

for the taking :: [B.C] x [H.J] x [K.S] x reader

read on AO3

summary: of your three boyfriends, you like to push chan's buttons the most so that he'll really get things going. you sadly underestimate how wild things can get when you rile him up.

pairing: kim seungmin x bang chan x han jisung x reader

tropes: poly!skz mmmf foursome, porn without plot

smut warnings: mentioned free use dynamics, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, brat play, overstimulation x100000, pussy eating, implied mxm dynamics, dom jisung, soft dom/sadist seungmin, hard dom/brat tamer chan, mentions of safewords (it's not used), unprotected sex but it's a long established relationship, reader initiated slight cnc, dirty talk, reader is called a slut as a degradation thing. it's really just pure filthy, not a plot point in sight.

author's note: i didn't plan to write this at all. idk where it came from. enjoy anyway!!

word count: 8.7k

You're laying on your stomach in your bedroom. The lights are dim, music is thrumming from your speaker, and there's a candle on your wax warmer. It's a quiet, soft night, the kind that you don't see many of. There's always something going on in the duplex you share with your partners. It can be tiring, but in the quiet, you realize you sort of miss it. You fiddle with the green beaded bracelet on your wrist as you scroll aimlessly through your phone.

Then, the door across the hall slams.

Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.

You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.

You feign innocence.

“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”

“Something like that. What're you doing?”

You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”

His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly.

It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.

You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes.

Or take.

"Did you need something, Chan?"

He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.

You gulp.

"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"

He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.

"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.

"Channie, I—"

"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."

You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.

He hums.

"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.

Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.

Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.

Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off.

If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.

You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze.

"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."

You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"

"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."

"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."

He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.

"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical. He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.

"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"

You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."

Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.

"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey.

You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.

"I said, what do you want?"

Fuck.

You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."

He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control.

Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.

The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.

But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.

"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.

"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.

He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"

Oh.

Shit.

"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"

He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."

You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"

He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."

Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"

The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.

You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.

It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.

He's teasing you.

There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.

But fine. He wants to play dirty?

You can play dirty, too.

It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–

“We're home!”

You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.

If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.

No, you need eager. You need impulsive.

You need Jisung.

You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.

You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.

Bingo.

"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.

"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"

You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"

"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."

"I missed you, too."

Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.

"Is that my shirt?"

“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."

He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."

You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."

He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"

You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"

His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"

Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.

You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.

Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.

His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.

He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.

You feel him laugh against you.

"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.

"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.

Maybe he has.

He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.

"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"

You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.

His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.

The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.

He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.

He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.

In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.

If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.

"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.

Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.

You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.

Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"

You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.

And then–

"Ah, so that's where they are."

Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.

After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.

From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.

Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"

"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.

Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."

Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."

Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked."

He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"

Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."

A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.

"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"

You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.

That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"

You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"

Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"

"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."

It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.

You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"

He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."

Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do:

Pleading.

"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."

Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."

In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.

"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"

You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.

You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.

Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.

"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."

Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.

"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"

You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.

"I asked you a question, princess."

As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.

"Jisung." He says simply.

The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.

"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."

When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.

Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes.

You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.

"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"

"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."

You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.

"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.

Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"

You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him.

To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.

It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.

It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.

"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.

Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.

The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out.

"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"

Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?"

"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"

"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."

That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.

And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.

In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.

It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open.

"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."

You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.

Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up.

"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"

"Shhh. It's okay, angel."

His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.

Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.

When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.

Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.

"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."

He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.

He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”

You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.

It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.

"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"

“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.

Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.

"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."

His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.

He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.

"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.

They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way.

Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."

You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.

"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."

"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"

"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."

You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.

"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."

It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–

It's like something snaps.

A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time.

"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"

He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.

The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”

If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.

Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us. I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"

"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."

You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.

"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”

It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.

But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night.

So you shake your head.

"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”

He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.

"'m sure, Channie."

"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.

When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.

He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.

The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.

"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."

Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."

Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.

Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.

"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”

His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.

It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.

Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.

You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.

He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.

The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.

Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.

"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.

"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"

You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.

Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"

Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.

"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"

Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.

You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name.

It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.

"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.

Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.

Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.

"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"

There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made.

Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.

Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."

It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.

It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.

Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.

The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.

Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.

"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."

You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.

"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."

You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."

You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.

When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.

"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.

"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”

You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.

"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."

You hear a dull thump as Seungmin smacks the back of his head, and you let their hushed bickering be the lullaby you need to lull you into sleep.

#stray kids #hyprfics #skz chan #skz x reader #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #skz seungmin #skz jisung #poly!skz #skz smut #skz jisung smut #skz seungmin smut #bang chan x reader #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin x reader #jisung x reader #skz jisung x reader

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cosmicalily · 1 month ago

Text

'is it casual now?' with stray kids, ot8 headcanons by @cosmicalily

author’s note: ugh i’ve been reminiscing on all the boys and girls i’ve been knee deep in the passenger seat with (emotionally and physically) and thought omg i should share my angst with all of you!! although this is a lot more lighthearted, i’d consider it more so the mutual crushes before a relationship stage rather than a toxic situationship but take it as you’d like it! warnings: unspecified relationships/ situationships

casual…with chris

letting you sleep on his shoulder while he works in the studio. calling you at night and staying on the line until you’re asleep. driving you anywhere and everywhere because it’s “on the way” even when it isn’t. calling you ‘baby’, ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’ more than your own name.

casual…with minho

buying groceries for the two of you without prompt. always cooking a double serve of dinner so you have something to eat. insane jealousy whenever anyone breathes near you. his hand on your thigh during drives. a photo of you and his cats as his phone wallpaper.

casual…with changbin

buying you presents for any and every occasion. sweaty, proud hugs after you finish a particularly difficult set at the gym. never ever letting you pay whenever you go out. constantly talking about you to his friends.

casual…with hyunjin

having not had a girlfriend since meeting you. resting his head on your lap when he’s sleepy. telling you how beautiful he thinks you are every hour of the day. having a sketchbook filled with portraits of you, and a folder filled with candids.

casual…with jisung

snuggles and tangled limbs under blankets while watching movies. spontaneous evening outings. making cd mixtapes for you of songs that remind him of you. drunk confessions and makeouts followed by sober apologies.

casual…with felix

calling you ‘his girl’, even if you aren’t officially his yet. sitting on his lap while he games, builds keyboards or scrolls on his phone. reposting love tiktoks that include suspiciously accurate descriptions of you. playing with and braiding each other’s hair.

casual…with seungmin

letting you take over the aux when he’s driving. wearing his hoodies more than your own. playful cuddles, tickles and cheek kisses. asking him to sing for you over the phone at midnight. prolonged eye contact. knowing your coffee order by heart and bringing it to you each morning.

casual…with jeongin

lingering touches to your waist, hips and sides. letting you borrow anything and everything from his closet. catching him staring at you in the mirror as you get ready. indirectly confessing by writing a love song about you on your birthday.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff - send an ask, reply or dm to be added!

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 month ago

Text

𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅

Pairing: Vampire Bang Chan x sub fem!reader

Content Includes: DUB-CON, DARK FIC!!! blood play, kidnapping, mind manipulation, spit play, unprotected sex (he's a vampire so condoms aren't needed you know?), aphrodisiacs, biting, oral (fem receiving), jealous and possessive sex, praise, body worship, aftercare, bath sex, kissing, 18+

Word Count: 3K

It's pretty soft in it's dynamics honestly but the underlying themes are incredibly toxic and unhealthy so this is your final warning, this fic will not be for everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been here—days, weeks? Time blurred together in the dim, lavish bedroom where Bang Chan kept you. The first days had been filled with resistance: pounding on the door, screaming for help, and refusing to eat. But Bang Chan had been patient, his eyes glinting with that quiet, obsessive resolve as he whispered promises that you would come to love him, that he’d make you see he was the only one who could care for you properly.

The last time you tried to run, he’d found you halfway down the staircase, dragging you back to this room as if you weighed nothing. That night, he’d fed you his blood for the first time, his lips pressed to your mouth as you resisted, his voice low and commanding. "Drink," he had said. "You’ll feel better. I promise."

You hated how right he’d been. The warmth of his blood coursing through you had sent a dizzying, molten pleasure straight to your core. It had softened every sharp edge of your defiance, leaving you pliant, your mind clouded with a hazy need for him.

Now, when the door creaked open, your heart skipped—not with fear but anticipation. Even as your mind rebelled, your body craved him, craved the dizzying ecstasy his blood brought.

Bang Chan stepped inside, his dark, predatory eyes drinking you in as you sat curled up on the bed. He looked as though he’d been pacing outside, his sleeves rolled up with his shirt undone at the collar, his hair a tousled mess, the remnants of blood on his lips and his mangled eye reflecting in the moonlight.

"Are you still sulking, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and almost tender. "Haven’t I given you everything?"

You didn’t answer, but your gaze betrayed you, flicking to the faint scar on his wrist. He caught the movement immediately, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips.

"You need me, don’t you?" he asked, approaching the bed with the careful intensity of a predator cornering its prey. "Even when you try to fight it, you feel it—the pull. My blood running through you, tying you to me."

Which was the point to all this wasn't it? For what could a man who can't be alone yet be sentenced to a lone eternity do?

He had to make you depend on him, feed off him, make you addicted to the aphrodisiac running through his veins, fill the void of emptiness in his dormant heart and replace it with your blood, your moans, your aching cunt and eventually...hopefully, your love and care.

Even if he had to force it, manipulate, take it.

You were the only thing he desired yet couldn't own entirely in his aimless, monotonous world.

He climbed onto the bed, his body caging you in as he cupped your face with one hand. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you shivered under his touch.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "Let me give you everything you’ll ever desire."

He kissed you then, his lips soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you even as your mind screamed to resist. His hands slid down your body, peeling away the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirt to expose your skin to his hungry gaze.

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a searing path of kisses, each leaving a crimson mark on your skin. "Every inch of you belongs to me. No one else will ever touch you, taste you, or even look at you."

He bit into his wrist without hesitation, his blood welling up in dark, crimson drops. Instead of pressing it to your lips, he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his. The metallic tang of his blood mixed with the heat of his kiss as he spat it into your mouth, his tongue chasing the last drops.

You moaned in euphoria at the taste of it, your tongue lapping at his bottom lip as your body became tingly with arousal and need, a burning heat pooling at your core and flowing to every limb and fibre of your being.

A firm hand wrapped around your neck and tilted you up so you were staring at Bang Chan who's eyes were deep and shadowed and held an unsettling combination of adoration and dominance, a bottomless pit of longing and control that promised he’d never let you go.

"Swallow," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

You obeyed, your body shivering as the warm, heady rush of his blood spread through your veins. The haze returned instantly, a fog of contentment and submission that made you pliant under his touch.

"That’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, hand slowly releasing. "Feel how much you need me. Feel how good it is to give in to me."

You could only whimper in response, your eyes becoming glassy from receiving your daily fix- too fucked out to notice his smirk as Bang Chan kissed his way down your skin, unbuttoning his shirt as he does so.

By the time he was finished with your torso, your skin was covered in shades of pomegranate and crimson, your nipples swollen and kiss-bruised, you were a canvas for his all too-consuming desires. Your marked flesh returned to blank perfection by the healing powers of his blood, which only provided the permission he needed to claim you again.

He removed his shirt, letting it fall to the ground as you gazed in awe at his torso, untainted and marble-toned under the moonlight. His hands moved between your thighs, spreading them apart as you lay pliant for him. His mouth is pressed against your skin in the softest of kisses before puncturing the skin with his fangs, his eyes lidded in a complete state of pleasure as he drank from you.

You barely had time to recover and notice the pain before his tongue lapped at your core with an unrelenting intensity that left you gasping.

"You taste like my redemption," he groaned, his voice muffled against you, his tongue drawing circles and suckling on your clit at an inhuman pace. "My heaven. And you’ll never need anyone but me."

The pleasure built quickly, your body trembling under his expert touch. Just as you reached the edge, he pulled back, his lips glistening with blood and your slick as he looked up at you.

"I won't let you cum yet until I've been satiated by the warm, sweet, wet cunt of yours." He speaks as he undresses, removing his pants and shoes so he is fully nude, his muscles tense and cock hard and aching from how close he was about to enter into his paradise.

His fingers gently brush down the side of your face as he hovers over you, pushing your legs apart with his knee so he could slot between them, running his fingers down the sides of your body before pulling your knees up and around his waist.

There was no light apart from the essence of the moon streaming through the bare window so he was a shadow of your darkest fears and deepest cravings but he could see all of you, crave you, lavish at your beauty.

And it angered him to his core that he could never truly own you, that you couldn't be truly his unless you offered yourself to him freely.

"You’re mine," he said, his voice raw and filled with dark heat as he pushed into you, filling you completely.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he moved inside you, his thrusts deep and desperate, his hands gripping your waist as if he feared you might vanish beneath him.

Bang Chan always entered you without any type of preparation, he was so cold and you were so warm, breathing fire into him from the outside in, the first push into your tight, warm and wet heat had him teetering on the edge of his orgasm every, single time.

For you however, it would have been painful without the blood but with it alighting you with flames from the inside and out, the stretch of him filling you and settling so perfectly inside of you was enough for your body to shake and tremble from how close you were to eternal bliss, your loud moans filling the room as your nails raked down his back, pulling him closer to you.

"Yes, mark me, scrape your nails down my back, make me feel alive again," the words were laced with a gravelly husk, his voice breaking. "Say you’ll always need me. Say you’ll love me the way I love you."

"I’ll never leave," you whispered, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation.

"Good girl," he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as his thrusts grew erratic. "You’re my good girl. Always."

His thrusting slowed to light grinding as he bit his wrist again, tearing open the barely healed wound with his fangs as the blood pooled from his mouth, streaming down his chin and dripping over your chest as you sensually opened your mouth to receive the drug in its purest form, swallowing and gulping all that you craved as Bang Chan pushed the essence further into your mouth, ensuring every part of your mouth and teeth were covered with his tongue.

You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you from this intimate act, an exchange of life force, a life he desperately wanted to give you and a life you can live with if it means feeling like this every day.

His thrusts grew faster again, his hips snapping against yours as he balanced himself on his arms, his right hand moving down your abdomen, leaving streaks of blood in their wake as his fingers nestled against your clit, his face shining with pride at your enthusiasm and pleading whines to finish.

"You're getting tired aren't you?" Bang Chan cooed at you in a slightly mocking tone, his eyes flashing a hint of mischief as he maintained his pace, not even breathless or a hair out of its place.

"I'll let you rest after you've cum for me babygirl, soak my cock for me, squeeze me with that perfect cunt of yours yeah?"

You reached your orgasm just moments later, your back arched and mouth open in a silent scream, draped in a way that Bang Chan could only describe as nirvana, his secret elysium from the agony of living forever.

The bedroom was silent except for the sound of your labored breaths, the aftermath of your intimacy still tingling through your body. Bang Chan hovered above you, his dark, piercing eyes studying your face with a mix of obsession and adoration.

"Don't fall asleep yet" he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "I need you to get cleaned up baby. Let me take care of you."

Before you could respond, he scooped you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly into the bathroom. The room was filled with the faint scent of lavender, the soft yellow lighting casting a homely ambience in the room. He settled you over his lap as he fiddled with the taps, rubbing your back lightly as the tub filled up.

Chan didn’t say a word as he set you down in the tub, his hands moving to cup and pour water over with a careful reverence. His fingers lingered as he began to wash the blood off your chest with his bare hands, his touch igniting fresh sparks of heat wherever it grazed your skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he said, his voice thick with emotion. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and all-consuming.

He stepped into the bath when he was ready, his body facing yours. The warmth of the water enveloped you as he helped you sink into the tub, your back resting against the porcelain.

Chan seated himself between your legs, the water lapping gently against his toned chest as his hands roamed over your body. "Just lie there baby, let me heal you" he murmured, his lips trailing from your collarbone to the swell of your breasts. His kisses were soft, reverent, each one filled with a silent promise.

His hands moved with practiced care, spreading soap over your skin as he washed you, his touch lingering in a way that made your breath hitch. "I'll keep you safe," he whispered, his voice gentle, with an underlying edge of possessiveness "Even if it means locking you away where no one else can take you from me."

The bathwater was beginning to darken in a hue of red as he washed the blood away, his cock hardening and skin burning with need at your beautiful body underneath him, your face looking so pure under the warm light and under his tarnished, sin-covered hands.

When you gazed up at him through your lashes, there was a sense of gratitude and care in them, like you were genuinely enjoying and appreciating this moment of care despite his blood in your veins thickly veiling the reality of this moment.

But it was enough for Bang Chan, his appetite for you insatiable and unwavering, every moment when he wasn't over you, holding you, being inside of you, dripping his blood into you would cause him desperate, emotional pain and an ache to tether his skin to yours.

His lips found yours again, his kiss deep and unyielding as he pressed closer, his body hovering over yours. The water shifted as he manoeuvred you, his strong arms bracing on either side of you as he caged you in.

"I'll make you need me" he said, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hunger. "I'll be the only thing you'll ever crave, even if I have to make you depend on it."

His mouth captured yours in a bruising kiss, and you gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance. His dark eyes met yours, his expression raw and unhinged as he whispered, "Say you’re mine."

"I’m yours," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips before you could think.

"That’s my girl," he groaned, his voice breaking as he pushed inside you. The water rippled around you, the heat of it amplifying the sensation as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts.

The sudden intrusion made you wince in discomfort slightly but the ache was only fleeting before the familiar pleasure swept through your body, your body already conditioning itself for Chan's purpose as your legs automatically parted and your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough as his hands roughly grabbed the side of your face . "I need to see you, need to know you’re not thinking about anyone else."

He always wanted to make love to you whilst he was above you, having you pinned underneath him- purely because he enjoyed how powerless you looked but also because he needed you to look into his lovesick eyes and know how obsessed he was over you, how he'd kill for you, how every breath you exhaled was on his conditions.

"I’m not," you whispered, your voice trembling as his pace quickened.

"Good," he rasped, his forehead pressing against yours. "Because no one will ever love you the way I do. No one else will ever take care of you like this. And I'll spend a fucking eternity proving it to you if I have too".

And how could you think of anyone else when every fibre of him was in you, his blood in your veins, his words in your brain, his teeth in your skin, his cock hard and plunging into you...because you were just as twisted and obsessed he was, obsessed for the fix, for his care, his words, his undying devotion towards- it was an addiction you could not quell, nor desire too.

His thrusts grew deeper, more desperate, the water splashing gently against the edges of the tub. His lips found yours again, his kiss feverish as if he could seal you to him forever.

"Tell me how to make you happy," he begged, his voice breaking as his movements faltered, his need for you overwhelming him. "Tell me what I have to do to make you stay with me."

"You already do," you managed to whisper, your hands clutching the tendrils of his hair as the pleasure he gave you consumed you.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion.

"You make me happy," you said, your words spilling out in breathless gasps.

His grip on you tightened as he buried himself deeper, his lips pressing against your neck as he groaned, "That’s it, baby. You’re mine. Always mine."

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped, leaving you both trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over you. He held you close, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "I’ll never let you go. Never."

After a moment, he eased back just enough to slide out, pulling you on top of him so you were resting against his chest, his hands rubbing gentle strokes up and down your back.

"Don't ever think of leaving me" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but firm and edged with a thinly veiled threat.

"You won't like what I become if you do".

Surprise!!! What a way to end 2024 everyone, a final gift for you all to say goodbye and welcome the new year.

I've been wanting to write this type of fic for Chris for months now and railway was the final thing needed for me to break my writer's block and write something.

My most popular fic ever of 2024 was in fact my Haunting Adeline fic with Yunho so whilst I won't write dark fic all the time, I'll probably write more of it if you can handle reading more of it.

Incredibly grateful and appreciative to everyone I've interacted with and spoken to this year, let's see what the next 12 months will bring and inspire out of me.

Kisses and hugs to all of you!!!

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @starillusion13 @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @jus2passtime @shroomoth @marykpoppins @leomggg @daddysspecialdollyworld @mykryptonitelight @wisejudgedragonhairdo @sanakimohara @chansfavouritetoy

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ivyyisbored22 · 15 days ago

Text

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Biker AU, Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: A certain dark haired leader of a biker club caught your attention online and you've been watching his weekly races in secret—or so you thought. Little did you know, this handsome biker already knows about his cute little stalker...

Content Warnings: Stalking but online. Smut🔞 after a bit of plot. Unprotected sex, P in V (from the behind), riding, rough, dirty talk(?), ass slapping, pet names, choking(kinda—), aftercare in the shower. Chris is a tease (maybe like a bit?).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: 17 days late, but better than never— HAPPY NEW YEAR! I've been wanting to draw and write biker Chan for a LONG LONG TIME, so finally here it is. (Yes that drawing is done by me haha)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 5.6k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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The bike flashed away into the stretching tracks in a blink of an eye, leaving a trail of excitement and dust in its wake. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices drowned out by the fading growl of the engine.

You pushed your hood further over your head to cover your hair flying in that direction, blending into the mass of onlookers while your eyes stayed glued to the figure disappearing into the night.

Christopher Bang Chan.

Did an accidental misclick on a hashtag "NightRider" lead you into his world? Yes.

You did have an unexplainable attraction towards bikes. It was the thrill, the speed, the freedom. Even if you couldn't ride one, the way bikes looked like a beast that could conquer the roads, it fascinated you.

But this— this wasn't just an attraction towards the sleek BMW S1000rr that was speeding this evening. No.

A random late-night scroll had led you to a short video of him—helmet off, his hair dark slightly tousled, a cocky grin tugging at his lips as he dismounted his bike like he owned the world. That pulled you like a magnet to steel.

You watched him, racing the tracks with swift motion, in practice ease, over taking every other rider, everything about him demanding attention.

Every other rider was left in his dust, and the cheers of his friends, 7 guys echoed above the deafening roar of the engines.

"Teach these bastards why they can’t touch you!” one of them bellowed, pumping his fist in the air, his blood red hair catching the rays of the setting sun.

“Eat that, losers!” another laughed, slapping the back of the guy next to him as they all leaned against their bikes, eyes glued to Chan’s figure dominating the track.

In a final swift, Chan drifted his bike as he reached the finish line, the tires screeching against the asphalt in a perfect arc. A plume of smoke curled up from under the wheels, his dimpled grin flashing at his victory and triumph.

The lingering growl of his bike continued as he sat there for a moment, one leg propped on the ground as if soaking in the chaos he had just commanded. His friends were the loudest of all, their jeers and cackles cutting through the noise.

Chan finally killed the engine and swung off the bike with the same effortless grace that had first caught your attention online. He pulled off his helmet, shaking his head slightly to ruffle his dark hair into place.

His eyes gleamed with a mix of adrenaline and triumph as he tucked the helmet under one arm and began walking toward his friends.

“That’s how it’s done, you fucking legend!” yelled one in a strong Australian accent, smacking Chan’s shoulder, the redhead taking his helmet from him and handing in a water bottle.

“Told you it wasn’t even a competition,” Chan quipped, his voice smooth but laced with that cocky edge that made your stomach flip.

The crowd began descending, slowly leaving you alone in your place, your hood over your head, covering your face slightly. Just as you were about to look away, his eyes briefly landed on you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his gaze on you. It was like he knew who you were but that was impossible. You've been secretly coming to the race every Saturday (telling your parents that you're going to the library) ever since you discovered his page and of course he doesn't know who you are.

It's out of the question.

Chan's smirk deepened, something wicked flashing in his expression. You quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with your phone, but you could still feel the heat of his gaze.

Before you made a fool of yourself, you stood up and walked towards the end of the track, pulling your hood lower to shield your face. Just as you were about to step into the shadows, a sharp, confident whistle cut through the air, freezing you in your tracks.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, you didn't turn around but felt Chan's lingering gaze pressing against your back. You turned slightly to see through your shoulders but then turned around and walked away as if you didn't hear anything at all.

“That chick’s been here for the last four weeks.” Minho commented, his voice casual as he tipped back his can of Red Bull.

Chan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still fixed on the spot where you had disappeared into the shadows. His jaw tensed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his gaze.

He could still picture the way you had glanced over your shoulder for a split second, like you’d been caught but refused to admit it.

"Oi, Chan," Felix called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You losing your touch, mate?"

The group erupted in laughter, their cackles echoing against the emptying track.

“Maybe she’s got better taste than you thought,” I.N added, smirking as he leaned against his own bike.

"She’ll come around." Chan said smoothly, shrugging nonchalantly, the cocky edge in his voice masking the intrigue bubbling beneath the surface.

"Will she now?" Hyunjin mocked, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"Trust me," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "No one comes to my races four weeks in a row without a reason." A devilish smirk tipped the corner of his lips that made the guys exchange glances.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't." Changbin interrupted, pushing himself upright with a sharp look.

"You don't even know what I was thinking." Chan shot back, running a hand through his dark, tousled hair. "Besides, if she keeps coming back, she’s going to slip up eventually. And when she does…”

Changbin rolled his eyes at him and grabbed a Red Bull from the ice box. He knew that Chan wasn't going to listen to what he's gonna say anyway.

Chan walked towards his bike and hoped on, revving his engine as it roared to life and slipping his helmet on. He glanced at his friends, his smirk turning downright wicked.

"Then what?" Hyunjin asked, crossing his arms.

"She wanted my attention, so she got it. And I want something in return.”

With that, he sped off into the night, leaving the guys behind in a cloud of smoke and laughter.

***

"Three, two, one, let's gooo!..."

You kept scrolling through Instagram reels, nothing interesting that grabbed your attention.

But you couldn't stop thinking about Chan...

It's Saturday, four o'clock in the evening. His races start at five. You went through his Instagram and TikTok, creating a folder in your saves for his biking videos and you catch yourself rewatching his highlights again and again.

Were you guilty for stalking him online? A bit—but you couldn't stop it. His bike didn't even fascinate you anymore the way it did the first time. You just were feeling obsessed with him.

The race track was only a few blocks away from you and you couldn't help but think, could he have crossed your home? You never noticed it but now everytime you hear a speeding engine, you look out your window, hoping it's Chan.

Yeah you were pretty much obsessed.

You went back to Chan's account and scrolled down his feed, opening some of his old posts when suddenly the phone slipped out of your hand and fell on your face.

"Fuck!" You yelped, rubbing your forehead, eyes widening as you glanced at the screen in horror.

Oh fuck—

You accidentally liked a picture of him from two years ago.

The red heart stared back at you, mocking your clumsiness, your heart sank as panic took over.

“Oh, no, no, no…” you whispered, scrambling to unlike it. You tapped the heart again, watching it disappear, but the damage was already done. Your phone trembled in your hands as you stared at the post, your reflection visible in the darkened screen.

It was a picture of him leaning casually against his bike, wearing a tank top with his buff arms crossed, a majestically inked dragon flexing on his bicep.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, clutching your forehead. Does he get notifications for old likes? Does Instagram even do that?

You sat up, your mind racing just as fast as his bike. He had half a million followers, so maybe he wouldn’t notice, right? But what if he did? What if he checked? What if he remembered your face from the track and connected the dots?

"Calm down," you whispered, trying to reason with yourself. "He probably won’t even notice."

But deep down, a small voice in the back of your mind said otherwise.

Because if there was one thing you’d learned about Chan from watching him race, it was that he noticed everything.

"She'll be here today." Chan said, tossing the Red Bull can in the trash and turning towards his friends.

Seungmin tilted his head, looking up from his phone, arching a skeptical brow. "Oh, so now you're a psychic?"

Chan rolled his eyes, leaning casually against his bike. “No. She's been coming every Saturday, there's no way she'll not come today."

“You’ve been stalking your stalker?” Felix chimed in, his deep voice carrying a note of amusement as he slipped his hands in the pocket of his pants.

Chan smirked, unbothered by the jab. “I don’t need to stalk. She makes herself obvious. Hood up, always at the same damn spot. Like clockwork.”

“Maybe she’s just here for the bikes,” Seungmin said with a shrug, going back to scrolling on his phone. Chan shook his head, his smirk widening.

Chan shook his head, his smirk widening. “Nah, it’s not the bikes anymore. Her eyes practically screamed busted when I whistled at her.”

“That’s because you’re fucking annoying.” Jisung piped up, sipping from his own can of soda. “If someone whistled at me in public, I’d leave too.”

The group laughed, but Chan’s gaze remained steady, fixed on the track like he was already envisioning you standing there.

"Race instead of me." Chan effortlessly tossed his keys at Changbin.

"What?" Changbin caught the keys with a sharp reflex, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"If she's really into the bikes, she wouldn't care if the rider is different. But if that's not the case..." His smirk grew wider.

"Then she'll know it's not me the second you hit the track." Chan finished, rolling his helmet between his hands. "She’s been watching me, not the bike. Let’s see if she’s as observant as I think."

Changbin raised an eyebrow, twirling the keys in his hand. “So, you’re basically using me as bait?”

“Not bait,” Chan corrected, handing Changbin his helmet and clapping him on the shoulder. “More like... a decoy. Just ride, keep it clean, and make it convincing. Wear my helmet, keep your head down, and let me handle the rest.”

“This is either genius or the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” Felix said, shaking his head.

“Shut up and watch,” Chan said, his tone light but confident. He turned back to Changbin. “You good?”

Changbin sighed, slipping the helmet on. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t blame me if I win and your little stalker realizes you’re not as fast as you think.”

The group laughed again, but Chan was already focused, his gaze cutting across the other riders getting ready for the race and watching the crowd gather, waiting for his shadowed muse.

The air began getting slightly colder, riders hopping on their bikes getting ready for the race. Chan stood with the guys, his back facing the crowd and his face hidden with a hoodie, watching Changbin rev up the engine.

He gave a small thumbs to Bin who responded with his own one and held the handle, preparing to flash away.

You finally managed to slowly get in your spot blending in with the crowd, your usual hood on, hair in front to shield your face, eyes glued on the riders before you.

At this point it felt silly than anything else, sneaking around every Saturday like you were some undercover agent. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The magnetic pull Chan had on you was impossible to ignore, even if you didn’t fully understand it yourself.

Your eyes scanned the lineup of riders, automatically locking onto the sleek, black BMW S1000rr. The sound of its engine roaring to life sent a familiar thrill through you, but something felt... different tonight.

The rider atop the bike gave a sharp nod, helmet obscuring his face. You couldn’t tell, but the way he usually carried himself—effortless confidence paired with a hint of smugness—seemed oddly subdued.

Your heart sank slightly. Was he even here tonight?

You pushed the thought away, gripping the edge of your hoodie to ground yourself. Focus. It didn’t matter. You were here for the race, for the thrill, not for him.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself since the last four races.

The countdown began, the cheers of the crowd growing louder with each passing second. The sound of engines revving filled the air, and you found yourself leaning forward slightly, anticipation buzzing through your veins.

Three... Two... One—

The riders shot forward, a blur of color and speed tearing down the track. Your eyes stayed glued to the black bike, trying to shake the unease gnawing at the back of your mind.

Is it him?

You watched curiously for the first two rounds, pushing away the feeling that it's not Chan but when it was the third round and you still didn't see his dramatic drift at the curved corners of the track, you were sure that it really wasn't Chan racing.

You leaned backwards exhaling and pulling out your phone, your interest in the race quietly dying down.

"I caught you princess..." A smug grin spread across Chan's face who had been secretly watching you but the race.

Hyunjin, who had also been watching you with Chan, waiting for him to be wrong, sighed dramatically, pulling a crumpled fifty out of his pocket and slapping it into Minho’s palm.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shooting Chan a side glance. "She really is here for you man."

Chan chuckled, low and confident. “Told you,” he said, brushing past them as he made his way toward you.

You were distracted with the reels playing on your phone to notice until he sat next you, your eyes fell on that unmistakable silver bracelet you recognised instantly.

Your heart pounded in your ears.

“Enjoying the race?” a low, teasing voice asked, so close you could feel the faint vibration of it in your chest. You stiffened, your head snapping up.

And there he was. Bang Chan.

Sitting casually next to you, leaning back like he owned not just the seat, but the entire universe. His hoodie was slightly pushed back, giving you a perfect view of his sharp jawline and those maddening dimples that tugged at his smirk.

For the first time, you noticed how sharp his features were up close—perfectly sculpted, how his lashes framed those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you.

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to spill over, but you kept your guard up and tried to calm your racing heart.

“You okay there, princess?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe... me?”

You quickly snapped out of it, your face heating. “I’m fine,” you said, sitting straighter and forcing your voice to sound steady. "And I think you've mistaken me, I don't really know you."

Your lie was so bland, it practically hung in the air like a neon sign screaming caught red-handed.

Chan raised an eyebrow, playfully scoffing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Is that so?” he said, his tone laced with mock sincerity. He leaned in slightly, and you caught a faint whiff of leather and something distinctly him—sharp, clean, and deathly intoxicating.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice firm despite the heat rising in your cheeks. “I don’t really follow bikers.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin theatrically, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Funny, because someone who doesn’t follow bikers somehow managed to stumble across my page. And, oh, what’s this?”

He mimicked scrolling on an invisible phone, his grin wicked. “Liked a post from two years ago? Now, that’s dedication for someone who doesn’t know me.”

Your stomach did a somersault, and for a moment, you were certain your face betrayed you. But you quickly composed yourself, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms. “That was an accident,” you said coolly, trying to ignore the way your pulse thundered in your ears.

Chan tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “So you accidentally clicked on my profile, accidentally scrolled back two years, and accidentally double-tapped? Seems like a lot of accidents for one person.”

You huffed, glaring at him. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Only when I’m right.” He shot back smoothly, his dimpled grin so close now, you could count the faint freckles dotting his cheekbones.

You could do nothing to calm your racing heart as Chan adjusted his seat and leaned back, watching whoever was racing in his place. He didn't say a word after that, just stayed silent and concentrated on the track.

You kept glancing at him with the corner of your eyes without fully turning, focusing on the race as well, but you could have sworn that he could hear your pounding beats in your chest over the screeching tires.

Of course whoever was riding in on behalf of Chan won tonight's race in an equally dramatic drift, you caught Chan smirking and nodding proudly. You were unsure what to do and stood in your place while the crowd began standing up, then when you were about to leave, a hand wrapped around your wrist.

"Where are you off to now?" His dark eyes glinted under the dim lights, mischief oozing from every inch of his expression.

“You’ve been sneaking in to watch the race for weeks, and now that you’ve got what you wanted, you’re just gonna leave? That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, debating your next words. His confidence was infuriating, but it was also… dangerously attractive. Finally, you sighed, meeting his gaze head-on.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “Maybe I did. So what?”

Chan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your honesty, before breaking into a wide grin. “Well, that’s a first. Didn’t think you’d actually own up to it.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” you shot back, your tone laced with feigned impatience, though your pulse still raced from his lingering touch.

Chan tilted his head, eyeing you thoughtfully, then exhaled a sharp breath. “Don’t you think it’s time you saw what it’s like on the track?”

You blinked at him, your breath hitching. “What are you talking about?”

He straightened up, fixing his hoodie. “I’m offering you a ride, princess. Around the track. Are you up for it, or not?”

The sass in his tone lit a fire in you. You loved bike rides, the rush of speed, the wind in your hair—but doing it with him? That felt like stepping into dangerous territory. Still, your pride wouldn’t let you back down.

You crossed your arms, feigning indifference. “Fine. Let’s see if your riding skills are as good as your ego.”

Chan chuckled, the sound deep and low, and it sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Careful what you wish for, princess,” he said, stepping closer. “You might not be able to handle it.”

You scoffed, though your heart was pounding. “We’ll see about that.”

You followed Chan as he descended the stairs and made his way towards his friends, all of them surrounded with their own bikes, cans of Red Bull, wearing leather jackets.

“Yo, I.N!” Chan called out as you approached, his voice carrying over the noise of the dispersing crowd. He looked up from his phone, his expression curious.

“What’s up?” I.N asked, his brows lifting when he saw you trailing behind Chan.

Chan jerked his chin toward I.N’s helmet, which was resting on the bike parked beside him. “Hand that over. Our guest needs it.”

I.N blinked, clearly surprised. “Wait, she’s riding with you?”

“Finally got yourself a passenger?” Minho, who was leaning casually against his own bike, snorted.

“Just a little gratitude to her for being so kind and showing up to my races every week.” Chan replied smoothly, throwing you a sidelong glance.

Your cheeks flushed crimson but you didn't say anything. You couldn't because you felt like your throat was shut tight.

The group erupted into low chuckles, Minho gave Chan a knowing look, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

“Don’t mess up my helmet,” I.N said, handing it over. “It's my favourite one.”

You hesitated for a moment, then took it, your fingers brushing against his. “Don't worry, I won't.” You said softly.

The group watched you curiously as if they were waiting for you to make a mistake but Chan’s gaze was the only one you cared about. He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear.

“Nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk.

You lifted your chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Not even a little.”

His smirk deepened. “Good. Don't hold back and enjoy the ride.”

Changbin threw the keys at Chan and handed him the helmet, moving aside revealing the sleek black BMW, shining under the bright full moon light.

Chan got on the bike and you climbed up behind him. The tension crackled between you like static, and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to throttle him—or hold on tighter.

The engine roared to life, the deep, guttural sound vibrating through your body. Your grip on the seat tightened as Chan revved the engine, his dimpled smirk still firmly in place as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

With a swift twist of his wrist, the bike shot forward, the sudden burst of speed forcing a gasp from your lips. Instinctively, your hands flew to his waist, gripping tightly as the world blurred around you.

The track stretched out like a silver ribbon under the moonlight, the cool night air whipping past your face, your hair dancing in the wind like a wild, untamed spirit. Chan maneuvered the bike with practiced ease, leaning into sharp turns and accelerating down straightaways.

The bike slowed slightly as he leaned into another turn, and you took the chance to glance at him. The confidence in his posture, the way his shoulders moved with the bike—it was magnetic.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased, his voice cutting through the wind.

You scowled, your cheeks heating. “Focus on the road, Chan.”

“I always do,” he replied smoothly. “But you’re making it a little hard, princess.”

Your grip on his waist tightened involuntarily, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you might regret. The speed continued until Chan slowed down, pulling to a stop at the other side of the track, the starting point looking like the size of an ant.

The sudden stillness was deafening compared to the roar of the engine moments ago. The cool night air clung to your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between you and Chan.

He shifted slightly, his body still straddling the bike as he turned his head toward you, his dark eyes glinting under the pale glow of the moon. “Tight grip you’ve got there, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Didn’t think you’d want to hold on that bad.”

***

“Ah-Chan—” your moans poured out of your lips like an erotic symphony, blood rushing down like a flood bursting out of a dam as you felt his length inside of you, breasts bouncing up and down.

Oh you were holding on that bad.

“Ride my cock, baby. Good girl.” Chan hissed, your pussy clenching him so nicely it drove him wild.

What started off him not knowing your existence to getting to know eachother to now him fucking the senses out of you escalated fast.

You can't lie, you did have fantasies about him during the nights when you scrolled through his socials. Imagining how he would be in bed. Those dirty nights when you moaned his name, imagining his cock replacing your vibrator.

Would he be gentle? A complete opposite to the menace he was on the road?

Boy you were wrong. He was anything but gentle.

He was rough. Hard. Strong. And you enjoyed that very much.

Chan's hand fisted your hair as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing yours drinking the taste of you. Your fingers clung onto his shoulder, nails grooving scars on his smooth skin, rocking your hips for more friction.

His cock filled you completely, stretching you in ways that made your vision blur. Every upward snap of his hips drove you closer to the edge, the friction against your walls making your toes curl.

“Chan—” you whimpered, breaking the kiss to gasp for air, your head falling back as his pace quickened.

He didn’t let up. If anything, the sight of you unraveling only spurred him on. His mouth trailed down your throat, teeth grazing your skin before he latched onto the sensitive spot just above your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

His lips latched on your erect nipple, sucking and licking on it, the obscene sounds of him groaning feeling like music to your ears.

Wetness gushed down your thighs and onto his, a sinful symphony of wet, desperate noises that only fueled the fire between you.

“So fucking perfect for me.” he praised, his lips brushing against your ear as he pinched and played with your slick nipple that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You felt so dirty and depraved, shamelessly riding his cock, his praises turning you on even more.

“Should I punish this pussy for stalking me baby? Hmm?” His hand slipped between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit, triggering an orgasm to break free just from his words.

He already “punished” you for stalking him by bending you over and fucking you to oblivion on his bike a week ago but he is so cocky and mean, he loved using that every chance he got.

“Or should I fuck you from behind and wreck you till you make a sweet mess all over my cock?”

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your release slammed through you, your body convulsing and your walls clenched around him, drawing a deep, guttural moan from his lips.

You couldn't even process the aftershocks of your climax and before you knew it, you were on all fours, Chan's eyes glued on your glistening slick pussy, the angry tip of his cock grazing and teasing your swollen folds.

“Chan— mngh,” you pushed back against him, whining with need, feeling the anticipation rebuild as you kept feeling the tip nudge against your entrance.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice a dark purr that sent a shiver down your spine. “Barely gave you time to breathe, and here you are, already begging for me to ruin you again.”

Your fingers clenched the sheets, your body trembling from the mix of frustration and desire. “Please, Chan,” you breathed, voice muffled and desperate.

“Please, what?” he sneered, leaning down so his chest pressed against your back, his silver chain and bracelet on his wrist touching your skin, cold.

His breath was hot against your ear, and his hand slid up your body to grip your throat. “You want me to fuck you? Say it.”

Your cheeks burned, but the heat between your legs overshadowed any embarrassment. “I need you to fuck me, Chan,” you whispered, then louder, “Ruin me. Wreck me.”

He groaned at your words, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. “Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.”

Without another word, he thrust into you in one brutal stroke, knocking the air from your lungs. Your hands flew forward to steady yourself, a gasp tearing from your throat as he set a punishing pace, his hips slamming into yours with a force that had the bed creaking beneath.

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. “So fucking cock-drunk, you can’t even think straight.”

You tried to speak, but he cut you off with a sharp thrust that made you cry out. His grip on your waist was bruising, holding you in place as he pounded into you mercilessly.

Every stroke hitting deeper, harder, until you were a squirming mess beneath him. His balls slapped against your clit, an almost tight hand around your throat had your vision going white.

His teeth sank into your soft skin, leaving a ruthless mark on your shoulder and his hand met with a sharp slap! on your ass. The pleasure of it overlapped the pain, relentless drilling on your sloppy cunt that made you grab the headboard.

“FUCK! I can't—” Your cries echoed off the walls of your bedroom, loud and feral.

“You can’t what?” Chan snarled, his voice laced with mockery as he dragged his cock out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting that spot and your skin meeting with another sharp slap!

His teeth grazed your earlobe as his hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place. “Can’t take me? Too much for this tight little cunt?”

“Y-yes—no—I don’t know!” you sobbed, your fingers clawing at the headboard as your body quivered beneath him.

His hand slid up on your throat, pulling you upright so your back was flush against his chest. The new angle made you scream, his cock hitting even deeper, harder, the relentless pace leaving you on the verge of tears.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. “Scream for me, baby. Let the whole world know who’s making you feel this good.”

The way his cock kept hitting the right spots made you climb higher and higher, the knot tightening, only seconds away from snapping, your whimpers and moans poured out endlessly.

“I'm gonna come— I'm—”

You couldn't even finish your sentence as the second orgasm left you shaking, trembling and reeling beneath him. Your walls clamped down on his cock, pulling him deeper until he spilled his seed in you.

“Fuck.” Chan groaned, his grip on your throat loosening as he chased his own release. His hips stuttered, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips, cock twitching as he pumped you full.

Breaths ragged and heavy, the room was mixed in scents of mint and sex. Chan collapsed forward, but braced himself to avoid crushing you beneath his weight.

“You did so good, baby,” He murmured, his voice low and thick, trying to catch his breath while he nipped your sensitive skin.

Both of you were drenched in sweat, the mingling of your bodies making the heat in the room unbearable, yet neither of you moved.

His cock softened inside you, but he didn’t pull out. Instead, he just leaned forward kissing the nape of your neck and shifted slightly, you winced at the feeling of him still inside you, oversensitivity making your nerves spark.

Slowly your bodies untangled and he fell on his back next to you, the both of you just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of what just happened settling in.

You gently turned your head to see Chan, who was lost in his own thoughts. He felt you watching him and he turned too, a soft smile tipping the corner of his lips, his fingers brushing a few strands of hair from your face.

His eyes trailed down your body, skin peppered with his bite marks and hickeys, something unusually painful stung in his chest even though he had never felt that before.

You moved closer to him, pecking a sweet kiss on his nose that made him knit his brows smiling.

“I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me if you think you did.” You said reassuringly.

Chan let out a soft breath, his smile faltering for a moment as he studied your face. His fingers ghosted over a particularly dark bruise on your collarbone, his touch featherlight.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, his teasing edge nowhere to be found.

You rolled your eyes, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “Of course.” He huffed out a laugh, the sound vibrating against your cheek and kissed your forehead.

Chan got up from the bed and carried you in his arms towards the shower, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh as your head rested against his chest.

Under the spraying water, the steam curled around the two of you, but his touch was what kept you warm.

He grabbed a washcloth and the soap, lathering it before starting at your shoulders. His touch was slow and deliberate, careful not to press too hard as he cleaned every inch of your skin.

When he reached your bruised hips, his lips ghosted over one of the marks that made your heart flutter.

Once he was satisfied, he handed you the cloth, smirking faintly. “Your turn, princess.”

You laughed softly, taking it from him and mimicking his careful actions. You then saw the scratch marks and crescent scars you had left on his skin, etched like tiny badges.

Your fingers ghosted over them as you cleaned him, a pang of guilt flashing through your chest.

“Sorry about these,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Chan chuckled, his smirk softening into something warmer. “Don’t be. I like them."

Heat rose up your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

When you reached his bicep, you couldn’t resist tracing the outline of his tattoo, your fingers brushing over the ink that decorated his skin.

“You really are full of surprises,” you said, your voice soft.

His brow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you. “The rough biker with the soft side. Didn’t think I’d ever see it.”

He smirked, pulling you closer under the spray of water. “Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway, letting the water cascade over both of you. Pearl-like drops of water slid down your bodies, your back pressed against the cold titles as Chan's mouth claimed yours.

After the shower Chan changed into his clothes and you slipped into comfy sweats, he grabbed his keys and helmet from the living room, walking toward the door with a cool, confident stride.

“My race is on Saturday,” He said, slipping on his helmet. “I hope you'll be there, princess.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, your mind going back to how you went watch his races every Saturday without him knowing who you were.

“I guess I’ll see you there, then.”

Chan nodded, opening the front door and stepping out, you watched him climb on his bike, revving the engine back to life. With a twist on the handle, he zoomed out into the night, flashing away into the stretching darkness leaving a trail of himself behind.

You couldn’t help but think that stumbling across that video online of a certain biker had definitely been the best misstep of your life.

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Here's a bigger and better quality picture of my drawing of Biker Chan:

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

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