skz1-4-3 - Tumblr blog

skz1-4-3 · 28 days

Text

This shit made me cry

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process.

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None.

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse.

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward.

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star.

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did.

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party.

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle.

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know.

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup.

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup?

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible.

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup.

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing.

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out.

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn…

He never got to see you.

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped.

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair.

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now.

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly.

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort.

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him.

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them.

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift.

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to.

Mice would get to it before you did.

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin.

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved.

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces.

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time.

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of.

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together.

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his.

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM.

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return.

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much.

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now?

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before.

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago.

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you.

To him too.

It’s the library where he first met you.

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now.

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside.

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working.

Absolutely not.

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful.

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet.

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were.

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves.

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it.

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face.

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option.

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head.

Your eyes met. He was a goner.

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you.

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today?

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere.

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here.

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time.

Empty.

You-less.

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.

What a moment.

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio.

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone.

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch.

His throat immediately tightens.

There you are. You. Beautiful you.

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger.

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something.

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin.

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows.

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug.

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please.

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly.

You turn around with a curious look.

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it.

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics.

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months.

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies.

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you.

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day.

Y/N, please.

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book.

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry.

“Thank you,” he whispers back.

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower.

From foot to foot, your weight shifts.

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you.

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them.

Y/N, please.

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself.

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck!

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world.

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite.

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks.

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow.

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it.

He knows everything.

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained.

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes.

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out.

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments.

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper.

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you.

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him.

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in.

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly.

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him.

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth.

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus.

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day.

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going.

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him.

And the worst part? You said yes.

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date.

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how.

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings.

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother.

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything.

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone.

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous.

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth.

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never.

“It’s with me,” he blurts.

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth.

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself.

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused.

She’s right. What if you don’t?

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table.

Yes, you have.

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water.

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu.

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town.

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late.

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu.

He’s more nervous now than on the first date.

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile.

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite.

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu.

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops.

You stop.

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something.

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before.

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe.

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you.

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks.

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully.

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused?

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out.

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you?

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick.

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth.

Your phone rings.

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest.

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock.

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet.

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance.

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park.

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have.

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket.

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have.

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation.

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it.

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side.

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings.

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours.

The brightest smile stretches over your face.

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now.

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you.

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you.

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe.

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago.

He wants to kiss you so bad.

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop.

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin.

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident.

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago.

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features.

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch.

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up.

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that.

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea?

Is kissing you the best option?

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop.

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety.

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside.

He can’t take it anymore.

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach.

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers.

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t.

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips.

But he is.

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss.

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers.

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again.

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose.

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good.

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer.

He immediately stops.

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression.

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused.

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears.

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused.

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window.

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob.

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident.

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please.

Slowly, your hand falls from his.

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own.

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time.

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore.

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him.

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie.

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation.

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs.

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over.

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you.

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared.

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming.

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.”

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck.

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him.

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off.

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest.

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow.

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest.

Him. You’re talking about him.

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying.

Nothing has ever hurt this bad.

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him.

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it.

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest.

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter.

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling.

A sob tears from his throat.

You grip his hand tighter.

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat.

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks.

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm.

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you.

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist.

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out.

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it.

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you.

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat.

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs.

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair.

You’re still crying. Both of you are.

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest.

All he can do is cry.

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night.

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over.

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong.

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently.

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you.

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws.

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it.

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #bang chan #bang chan fanfic

2K notes · View notes

skz1-4-3 · 2 months

Text

This is- damn- i mean - what- how- the creativity- omg- im like in shock- positively- damn

Paralyzed

Incubus!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

🦇 Genre: Smut, The Horror & thriller type.

🦇 Warnings: Knife Play, Mentions of Fear, Descriptions of nightmares.

🦇 A/N: Chan's laugh in the Rock star trailer was my reference for the laughing here. The way he sounded in that trailer overall heavily inspired this. + I've never written anything like this before 😭I wanted to do something cool for Halloween, so I hope that you enjoy!

☠️Masterlist☠️

"How are you holding up without me?" You held the phone to your ear as you made your way from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand.

"I love it, it's so quiet." You smile as your boyfriend scoffs on the other line. Ever since the two of you moved in together you and Jisung had been attached at the hip. The only reason that he's not home right now is because he's in the states with his company for a team building retreat.

"Oh yeah? So you're telling me that you enjoy sleeping alone?" You freeze for a second as you reach the door frame of your shared bedroom. The truth is that sleep hasn't been coming to you as easily as it was when Jisung was home. You've been experiencing sleep paralysis since the night that he left and it's made your nights more than unpleasant.

"Well I actually do miss you in that department." You can hear the smile in his voice as he tells you how much he misses you too.

He changes the subject shortly after, explaining his schedule for the day but you’re not really listening. You stare at your bedroom doorway from your spot on the bed, the familiar feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine. Your nights have been the same for the past four days. You wake up lying on your side, unable to move your body, a loud cracking sound fills the room as if the space around you is crumbling and your heartbeat is replaced by the fast ticking of a clock. Your eyes are fixed on the doorframe as you lie there helplessly and that’s when you see him. He stands in your doorway, staring at you with a blank expression. Actually, he has no expression, he has no face. You hear the echo of maniacal laughter before he takes a step towards you and that’s when you wake up. He never makes it over to you but it’s been absolute torture every night that it’s happened.

“Baby?” You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Jisung calling you to tell you that he has to get to a meeting .

You reluctantly say your goodbyes and then you’re left alone for the night. You decide to turn on your LED lights and put on some music so that the space doesn’t feel too eerie. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to distract yourself from the dread building in your chest. Maybe if you stay up all night you’ll be okay. Jisung comes back in a day, you can sacrifice sleep until then right? You stay up for two more hours before fatigue hits you hard, you try to fight through it but you barely make it another twenty minutes with your eyes open.

You dim your lights and put on some softer music, maybe if you set the mood and make yourself feel good you won't have such a horrible night. You settle into bed, grabbing your vibrator from the drawer in your nightstand and closing your eyes. You might as well make yourself feel good in every way you possibly can.

You turn on the toy and start to tease yourself, trailing it from your collar bones and down to your nipples. They pebble at the sensation, a deep sigh leaves your parted lips as you think about all of the ways that you want Jisung to touch you when he gets back. You run the toy over the sensitive skin of your stomach and hips, moaning a bit as you feel arousal pool at your core. Slowly, you run the toy over your clothed slit, barely applying any pressure. Your back arches off of the bed as you beg yourself for more, you repeat the action, applying more pressure this time. A deep satisfied moan leaves your lips as you give in to your desires, you press the head of the toy to your clit and shiver at the pleasure that runs up your legs. You buck your hips into the toy as you chase your high, you can feel yourself clenching around nothing as a gush of arousal floods out of you. Your orgasm is getting closer and closer as the knot in your stomach tightens, you smile a bit as you finally feel relaxed. Your free hand toys with your hard nipple as your orgasm peaks through the pleasure but you're quickly pulled out of your bliss by the loud cracking of thunder echoing through your apartment.

“Fucking hell.” You jump at the sound, quickly sitting up in your bed and looking over towards your window. The rain starts falling faster, beating against the glass violently. You sigh in disappointment, deciding to give up and go to bed before anything else spoils your mood.

You fall asleep easier than you have the previous nights, you decided to see if sleeping on your back could help prevent your night terror from happening. Maybe a change in position could lead to a change in experience, or at least you hope so. Your dream is simple tonight, your mind transports you to a place where evil doesn’t exist, where human ability has no bounds and you can do anything you think of. It’s perfect until you hear it, the magical laughter of the faceless demon haunting you. Suddenly the world around you goes dark, just a second ago you were flying freely, soaring through the sky to your heart's content but now similarly to your heart you’re dropping. You’re falling from a height that no human could possibly survive, your screams are muted by the pressure on your chest, you can feel it all. Why does it feel so real? Just as you’re about to hit the ground your eyes open and you jolt forward, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest as you try to catch your breath.

A light chuckle falls from your lips as your dream replays in your head, at least you didn't have sleep paralysis, right? Right? You glance over towards the door frame and your pulse picks up all over again. He’s there, but this time he has a face and he’s staring. You hold your breath as he takes a step forward, you expect to wake up, you always wake up when he steps towards you but nothing has changed. He takes another step and you can feel your blood run cold in your veins. You close your eyes as you will yourself to wake up.

“It’s just a dream, this isn’t real.” You chant to yourself hoping that you can bring yourself back to reality.

Once you’ve said it a couple of times you open your eyes and reluctantly shift your gaze over to the door. You sigh in relief when your eyes don’t land on the figure haunting you. Suddenly a crack of thunder echoes through your room much louder than it did earlier, this time it’s deafening. You jump at the sound and suddenly you’re waking up again. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you breathe erratically, your LED lights are flashing red and the music that you put on before bed has gone off. You look over towards your nightstand for the remote to your lights but you can’t find it. As you turn to look on the other nightstand your heart drops. He’s standing at the end of your bed, a wicked smile pulling at his lips and a karambit knife in his hand.

You freeze, staring at him with tears welling up in your eyes. You don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him. He tilts his head as he holds your eye contact, he slowly brings his knife up and drags it across the end of your bed frame, the loud scratching sound of the metal rings through your ears and triggers your primal urge to run, you want to get as far away from him as possible but you can’t move.

Your eyes trail down to his hands, his finger tips are blackened like they’ve been grasping at coals. A tear falls from your eye when he wraps his hand around the end of your bed frame and pulls himself forward. He lifts himself over the frame, crawling towards you slowly like a spider on a careful hunt. He crawls over your body, his arms caging you to the mattress. You stay still, propped up on your elbows, unable to move, paralyzed. Tears trail down your cheeks and you try to hold your breath.

You study his face, outside of this situation he wouldn’t look scary at all. He has full lips and shiny jet black hair. His eyes are a piercing gray color and his jawline is sharp and bold. Wait, are you seriously checking out the object of your nightmares right now?

He tilts his head to the other side like he’s inspecting you. You try to speak but you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Suddenly, the walls around you begin to crack, the sound of plaster crumbling in on itself fills your ears and your heartbeat is once again replaced by the sound of a clock ticking wildly.

“Wake.” You can hear a voice, is it his voice? How could it be his if his lips didn’t move?

The voice echoes through your head and suddenly you’re able to move, you open and close your hands to make sure that you’re no longer paralyzed but even with your new found freedom you can’t seem to look away from him. You open your mouth, preparing your quivering lips to speak to the entity over you.

“Who are you?” You ask in a whisper and he leans in a bit closer, you lean back against your pillow in an attempt to distance yourself from the creature.

“Who do you want me to be?” His voice echoes through your head and suddenly his features start to change. His face slowly begins to morph into Jisung’s and your breath catches in your throat.

“Jagiya.” An eerie mock up of your boyfriend's voice echoes through your head in a teasing and sing songy tone. You shiver at the sound of it but just as the features settle they’re shifting again. This time they morph into your co-worker and close friend Minho. You bite your tongue as he leans in closer, only a couple of inches of still air keeping you apart.

“Please stop.” You whisper, pleading with him to go back to his original form.

“Such a pretty thing.” The words pan from ear to ear as if he were whispering to you. You can feel yourself involuntarily clench around nothing as you press your thighs together. What is happening?

His face morphs back to the one that you saw originally but his smile is gone. He looks more serious now, more focused.

“What do you want?” Your voice is hoarse as you force your lips to move. You watch as he backs up from you, nearly sitting up completely before lunging forward and nearly closing the gap between the two of you. You yelp at the sudden movement squeezing your eyes shut and crying a bit harder.

“You.” His response echoes through your head in a loud growl and suddenly you feel weighed down to your bed. When you open your eyes he’s gone but you’re paralyzed once again.

Your bedroom is dark and the sound of the storm outside is drowned out by your labored breaths. Sweat beads at your hairline as your eyes dart around the room. You nearly miss his figure standing next to your bed in your hasty search. He’s staring down at you, his karambit held loosely between his thumb and pointer finger. He seems comfortable as he observes you like a predator ready to catch its prey. He silently raises his knife and brings it to your exposed ankle. If you could move you’d flinch at the contact of the cold metal against your skin. He slowly starts dragging the knife up the exposed skin of your leg and you squeeze your eyes shut expecting to feel pain radiate through your body but instead you feel the opposite. You feel euphoric.

He stops once he’s reached your hip, your panties obstructing his path. He looks back over at you, holding your eye contact as he hooks the knife into the hem of your underwear and swiftly cuts them open. He smiles at you and a moan passes your lips. You can feel yourself melting. Your body is slowly giving in to the entity, your fear is fading into pleasure. The line between the two is slowly dissolving.

“More.” The word leaves your mouth before you can even process what you’re saying. A soft yet eerie chuckle echoes through your head as he runs the knife up under your t-shirt. The rips through the fabric with his blade somehow leaving you unscathed. Once your shirt is open completely he slowly trails the knife over to your nipple. The bud pebbles quickly as he teases it with the tip of his karambit. A moan falls from your lips and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Wake.” With this said you can move again but the last thing on your mind is getting away. You feel so hungry, so desperate for contact and your brain is telling you that he’s the only one that can give it to you. “Pretty girl wants more?”

You nod at the echo of his words in your head as you stare up at him. He really is handsome, his smile is charming and his eyes are hypnotizing. Hypnotizing. Are you being hypnotized? You fight with yourself as lust floods your senses, the only thing that you can manage to think is that you need more. More, more, more.

“Open.” Your legs spread wide for him as if you are a puppet under his control. A small whimper leaves you as the night air hits your exposed cunt. Your mouth falls open along with it, sticking out your tongue to him.

He lifts the knife and brings it to your mouth, lightly sliding the blade against your tongue. Your mouth closes around it slightly as you drool onto the blade, the taste of metal flooding your tongue. Once he’s satisfied he drags it from your mouth and brings it down to your core. He cuts your panties on the other side and you sigh at the feeling of the wet blade on your skin. He trails it from your hip and over to your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves lightly.

“Chan.” The name falls off of your lips in a moan but you don’t know who’s name that is. Is it his? How would you know his name? All of your questions and confusion leave you when he slides the dull back of the knife down your slick folds. “Please.”

“You like me?” He smiles down at you as you nod your head, hips bucking against the knife desperately.

Just as you’re adjusting to the sensation of the metal against your core it’s taken from you. You whine in protest but your lips quickly part in a moan once you feel his fingers replace his blade. They’re warm compared to the metal and the feeling of them pressing against your clit is dizzying. Chan slides his middle and pointer finger between your folds, lubricating them with your slick arousal before they press lightly at your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed the excessive moans falling from your lips. The need to be touched is deafening as you grind into his hand. After what feels like forever he finally breaches your hole and a cry of pleasure erupts from your throat. He slides his fingers all the way in and curls them, finding your sweet spot right away.

Jisung has never made you feel like this and you swear that he’s the best person that you’ve ever slept with. The way that you feel right now is intoxicating, addicting. You feel so good but all that you can think about is having more. You need more.

“Your flesh is greedy, beauty.” He pumps his fingers into your heat. Fucking you at an unworldly pace. Your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you soak up the pleasure. Your legs shake lightly as your release climbs up your spine. Your eyes find his and you stare at him as he watches your fucked out expression. Your eyes are low and lidded and your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that your skin feels like it could melt right off.

“Fuck” You whine as your pussy clenches around his fingers, he picks up the pace just a bit and before you know it you’re falling apart on his fingers. Your legs remain wide open as they shake, you grip the sheets underneath you and your back arches off of the mattress.

Chan inhales deeply as he watches you. His eyes darken, his Sclera becoming cloudy with a hazy smoke. He brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and pushes them between his plump lips, you watch him as you come down from your high. His long tongue wraps around his fingers and you hear a moan echo through your head. He closes his eyes as he savors the taste of you. You notice that as he sucks his fingers clean his body slightly grows in size, his strong arms strain a bit more against his raven colored shirt and the bulge in his pants thickens.

“You’re heavenly.” He pulls his fingers from between his lips and lowers them to yours. You open your mouth immediately, welcoming his digits onto your tongue. You swirl the muscle over his blackened digits, relishing in the mixture of your arousal with his saliva. “I’ll fuck the heaven out of you.”

He snatches his fingers from your mouth and suddenly your eyes roll back into your head. Darkness swallows you and an overwhelming pang of fear hits you all over again. Your heart is pounding in your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“C- Chan?” Your voice is shaky as you call out for him.

“Relax.” You hear his voice clearly echoing through your left ear and now your right.

“You want me, don’t you, beauty?” His voice is smooth and alluring, you relax at the sound of it. All of your fear once again melting into pleasure. You shake your head yes as you blindly answer him.

Silence looms over you and the air feels thick and hot around you. You take a deep breath but the wind is quickly knocked out of you when you feel pressure on your chest. The weight is swiftly followed by the intense stretch of his cock entering you. The burn of him splitting you open is unreal. There isn’t a single person on earth who could compare to the girth of his cock. He slides into you at a moderate pace, barely giving you time to adjust to him, your pussy swallows his member greedily dripping as he squeezes himself inside.

“F-Fuck” You throw your head back as a wave a euphoria burns through your nerves, overriding your system and leaving you a pliant fucked out mess against your mattress. “S-so big.”

He finally bottoms out, filling you completely and kissing your cervix perfectly. Chan doesn’t give you a second to adjust before he’s pulling his hips back and snapping them into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and your hands desperately grab at the sheets. A tear falls from your eye as you bite your lip, small whimpers erupting from your throat with every thrust.

“Too much, so much, oh my god.” You reach up to touch him but your hands are instantly pinned above your head. You cry out as he continues to fuck into you, stretching you relentlessly.

His long tongue dips out of his mouth and licks at your hard nipples causing a moan to slip from your lips. He swirls the bud around getting it nice and wet before moving to the other one. His tongue flicks the sensitive nub at the same rhythm that he’s fucking you, showing no mercy to your sensitive breast.

“I’m gonna -“ Your second orgasm washes over you before you can finish your sentence. Your pussy spasms around his thick length and you can hear his groans ringing through your ears. They’re deep and animalistic, they’re desperate and oh so pretty. You lie there, mailable and fucked out as he continues to pound you.

“Give me more. Feed me, beauty.” Chan grabs your hips tilting them upward while he jackhammers into your dripping cunt. Gaspy screams fall from your lips as he uses you, before you know it your third orgasm is rushing over you. Despite your blacked out vision it feels like the room is spinning and you swear that your sheets are soaked with sweat.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you and seconds later he’s spilling his seed into your abused cunt. You moan at the feeling of his burning hot cum filling you as you grind against his pelvis. He pulls out of you swiftly and you whine at the emptiness. You feel his cum dripping out of you and the weight on your chest shifts slightly. Silence surrounds you again and you can feel the fear start to creep in. Just as you’re about to call his name you feel his thickness prodding at your anus and you gasp.

“No, no, no. Too big, please.” You can hear his maniacal chuckle ring through your ears followed by his sweet and charming voice as he breaches your hole, pushing into you slowly.

“Let me use your greedy flesh.” He continues to slide in as tears trail down your cheeks. Every burning inch of him makes your pussy clench and your clit throb. “Let me rid you of your innocence.”

He fills you to the hilt, plugging your hole perfectly. You wince as he draws his hips back, dragging out of you slowly before plunging back in at the same pace. A string of whines fall from your lips as he fucks you, you can hear his moans echo through you loudly as he picks up his pace.

“So tight, what a sin you are.” You whimper Chan’s name in response as you struggle to keep your legs open. He grabs both of your calves and brings them up so that your knees are touching your chest. You scream at the change of pressure and depth, as his cock hits spots that you didn’t know existed.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” You hiss as a breathtaking orgasm hits you, you gasp for air as he continues to pound you, gradually picking up the pace by the second. “C-Chan I can’t, please.”

“You wanted me. You wanted this.” He snaps his hips into you harshly, spilling into you yet again. You can hear him inhale deeply, smoothly before exhaling violently. “Take it.”

He swiftly pulls out leaving you empty again and the weight on your chest disappears. Your legs fall back against the mattress and the feeling of euphoria slowly dissipates. It’s silent yet again, the only sound present is the heavy rain against your window. The loud crack of thunder fills your room for the third time tonight and you can hear Chan’s voice just as loud as it accompanies the storm.

“My beauty.” A wet kiss is left behind your ear followed by his loud maniacal laugh and your blood runs cold.

Suddenly all of the pleasure that you felt is gone, there’s nothin but fear present in your body. You scream as you jolt up, panting and blinking quickly in an attempt to adjust your eyes to the light around you. Wait, the light is on? The soft sound of your music bounces off of the walls and your dim LED lights illuminate your space. You look down and notice that your blanket is covering you. You slowly peel it back and examine your attire, nothing is cut, nothing is disheveled, everything is just how it was when you fell asleep. Your eyes dart around the room to search for him but you’re completely alone.

You slowly step out of bed, the moment that you stand from the mattress you sway. Your legs feel weak and tired as you drag them across the floor. You make your way to the bathroom, and as soon as you reach the sink you stare into the mirror. You look fine, tired and sweaty but fine. There’s a slight blush running over your cheeks and your skin feels like it’s burning.

It was just a wet dream, a terrifying and extremely realistic wet dream. You turn on the cold water and splash your face a couple of times to cool yourself down. You feel a slight burn behind your left ear and bring your hand up to feel the hot skin. You look in the mirror and your heart nearly stops when your eyes land on a red symbol burned into your skin. Your eyes widen as you stumble backwards towards the door. This can’t be right, this isn’t possible. It wasn’t a dream?

You rush back over to your bedroom to find your phone. You need to call someone, anyone, Jisung. You unlock your phone, frantically looking for his contact information but a text from him completely stops you in your tracks. The color drains from your face as you sit and stare at the photo that he sent you. It’s him and his co-workers at the bar of the retreat but there’s one new face, one that you recognize. Chan is next to your boyfriend. Arm around his shoulder and drink in hand. You stare at your screen silently but your heart is screaming in fear. You read Jisungs text over and over in disbelief and tears start to fall from your eyes.

Met the team today, the guy next to me is my new assistant. Can’t wait for you to meet him.

It was just a dream right?

This is just a dream, right?

339 notes · View notes