#bang chan breakdown

[kisskissbanggang]

Provocation pt. 3

[9.6k words/30min Read - Lee Know x Female Reader, Bang Chan x Female Reader - Non-Idol!au - NSFW/Smut w/Plot - Voyeurism, Developing Relationships, Multiple Orgasms, Alarmingly Short Refractory Periods, Cunnilingus, Blindfolds, Handjobs, Spit as Lube, Dom/Sub Elements, Creative Approaches to Identity Crises, Jisung Finally Enters the Plot]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Chan | Also Chan | Come Say Hi!]

Despite how nervous you were, this was shaping up to be a gorgeous evening. Not only was the rooftop bar at Magnifique thankfully uncrowded since it was a weeknight, you even scored a table next to a space heater so you didn’t need your coat just yet. Your dining partner was enjoying himself thoroughly, especially with the Old Fashioned and appetizers you treated him to as the sun was beginning to set. This was as nice as the night was going to get, you figured, so it was time to suck it up and do what you came here to do in the first place. 

“So,” you began, speaking somewhat confidently into your food, “I was wondering... who’s Chan?”

Jisung choked on his drink, reeling before he forced himself to swallow. You winced and slid your water across the table. He shot you a steely, skeptic glare as he carefully sipped. Your friend firmly set the glass back on the table and composed himself. 

“What did Minho tell you?” he suspiciously interrogated. 

“Nothing!” you defended. It was true. Minho shut down so hard that you’d never pressed the issue. You wouldn't be asking if it wasn't such a problem now. 

“Bullshit!” Jisung laughed incredulously. “Minho never talks about Chan with anyone outside work, not even me, not even Dad, not even his mom.”

“Look,” you guiltily reasoned with Jisung, “I know I haven't been up front about me and Minho–”

“Oh my god,” Jisung groaned with a roll of his eyes. His fingers clumsily slipped off his glasses before pinching the bridge of his nose. But even then, he still seemed like he was about to laugh. “Do you seriously think I don’t know? Do you think anyone doesn't know?!”

Your face heated up immediately. Jisung started giggling into his drink.

“Come on, Ji, I–” 

“You don’t think everyone at my last get-together saw you two dorks disappear into the kitchen together?!”

“Jisung!” you whined, “you sent me to get hors d'oeuvres–”

“I had to tell Seungmin you were single! He was convinced you weren’t. I wonder why–”

“Ji! I get it–”

“Maybe I was just blind! I've been to Ikea with you plenty but it never occurred to me–”

“OKAY, JISUNG!” you snapped. “I’m sorry, okay?!”

Jisung perked straight up at attention. Everyone around you was staring. Without even meaning to, you’d slapped your hands down onto the table with your outburst. Jisung was practically on the verge of tears, holding in a laugh until his face was red. 

“Fine,” you pathetically grumbled with a wave, “continue. I deserve it.”

“I’m just saying,” Jisung facetiously shrugged. He was failing to hold back a giggle. “Where was my kitchen handy?”

Jisung howled when you kicked him under the table. 

“Oh my god, Jisung, GROSS!”

“Now I'm gross!” Jisung sobbed out a hysterical guffaw. 

You were both losing it by now, but you managed to stubbornly get argumentative for a second. “Like you were ever available anyway! I ripped off that bandaid a long time ago and you said no, remember?!”

Jisung swiped a tear away and put his glasses back on. “I was so smart to friend-zone you early on.”

“Smart,” you exaggeratedly rolled your eyes. “And all these years you’ve just pretended to not be interested in dating.”

It seemed you’d tripped Jisung up for a moment, judging by the way he paused, seemingly choking before he tried to subtly clear his throat. “I mean… yeah? Obviously. Because I'm not interested in dating.”

You searched for him to meet your gaze again. “Thank you, though. For understanding. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey,” he shrugged more earnestly now, “if someone's going to take care of Minho I'd like it to be someone I trust. Better yet, someone I like. You're perfect.”

“Thank you,” you smugly grinned. “Now! Who the fuck is Chan?”

The air between you got serious again. Jisung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, before leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. He looked like he was about to begin, paused, and ultimately cracked his neck to perhaps soothe his nerves. You patiently, nervously waited. 

“... Fine,” Jisung nodded. “Chan's our boss.”

Your gasp was involuntary. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “And he’s even more Minho’s boss than mine. I’m over in Finance, but Chan’s the fucking VP. Minho’s an associate, but you knew that already.”

“Right,” you lied. Associate sounded important, which was probably how Minho could afford his nice apartment. 

Jisung held up an eyebrow in doubt of you. “Chan stresses Minho the fuck out. If he brought him up to you, it can’t be good news.”

“It’s not like he’ll even tell me that it’s not good news,” you sighed. “He’ll tell me anything else.”

Your friend shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was clearly considering something. “Fine. You didn’t hear this from me–”

“What?” you interrupted, stunned. “You’re helping me now?”

“I might as well!” Jisung groused. “He’s been acting so weird for a while. He’s left me on Read for three days and he hasn’t done that since that time he worked 36 hours straight. If you can snap him out of it then it’ll be a weight off my back before our parents catch on. Now do you want my help or not?”

“Yes,” you groveled, grabbing onto his hand with one of yours and calling over a waitress with the other. His glass was empty, after all. 

“Okay,” Jisung steeled himself. “Again: you didn’t hear it from me. But you’ll catch Chan in the loft at Good Night. I’ve been asked to come out often enough to know he’s a regular.”

You thought about this amazing nugget of info for a moment. “And has Minho ever tagged along?”

“Has Minho? God, no,” Jisung scoffed. “But like I said, you didn’t hear this from me.”

“Oh, Jisung,” you gratefully exulted, grabbing onto his hand again. “Thank you, seriously–”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me what happened?” he tried again. 

You considered this. It wasn’t like you could tell him Minho clearly wanted to fuck their boss. 

Right?

“It’s probably just work stuff,” you fudged. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”

Jisung seemed satisfied, thankfully. But now you had a new fire lit underneath you. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was just your luck that Minho happened to live in roughly the same neighborhood as this mystery nightclub. Considering the distance, it was a reasonable bus ride, but it honestly wouldn't be a terrible walk. Following that logic, it only made sense that you’d grab a cab. 

Minho hadn’t even asked you where you were taking him tonight. Apparently, he was simply elated that you'd seemingly dropped the Chan nonsense for the time being. 

The club wasn't your vibe by any means, by the way, but it wasn't a dealbreaker. The line to get in was modest, the cover was decent (which made up for it being cash only) and the fog machine wasn't obnoxious. In a move that shouldn't have been so surprising, Minho made a beeline upstairs to the loft. 

“Been here before?” you teased over the music. 

“No!” Minho laughed. “There's just a bit more light up here.”

This was a great date night barring any ulterior motives. Minho sat beside you in a cozy booth seat at a small table. It took every ounce of your reserved energy to not make it obvious that you were internally squealing when he casually smoothed a hand across to your far shoulder so he could hold you close. Truth be told, you liked whatever it was that you were growing with Minho. 

The atmosphere in the loft made it easy to feel like you were still intimate despite the crowded accommodations. Minho talked low in your ear, his lips tickling you just enough to make you giggle like an idiot when you weren't being more careful. If you didn't know any better, though, you'd almost think your unintentional reaction nearly made him blush. 

Minho cleared his throat and waved over a thankfully fast server. Soon, you both had a drink to distract you a little. You took a moment and surveyed the loft. Really, any of the gorgeous men chatting up the other patrons could've been Chan. 

Any of them, but one in particular, once you caught sight of him. 

And you weren't the only one who noticed. 

Beside you, Minho coughed into his drink, making you jump. He floundered. He sputtered. Ears fully red now, Minho got up and fled into the chair across from your booth bench. Both hands flat on the table, he leaned forward, his gaze wild. 

“You bitch,” he wheezed out with an affronted laugh, “you set me up! You knew he'd be here!”

You blinked innocently. “Who?”

Minho ignored you, and instead rubbed his temples in frustration for a second. “As if I'm stupid! You think I don’t know where he spends his off hours? I’m going to murder Jisung. How else would you find out? Of course this was a set-up, I knew it–”

“Min,” you sweetly interrupted. “If you're saying what I think you're saying, I'll tell you right now that I don’t even know what he looks like.”

Small lie, but harmless. You didn't know, but you had a good idea. Your retort made Minho pause, likely right in the middle of a clever remark. As a result, his mouth momentarily flopped open and shut like a fish. The only thing you could think to do was push his drink back into his hands. Minho clutched the glass and took a healthy swig. Once he was finally satisfied, he firmly set the glass back down, all while eyeing you steadily. 

“So,” he carefully treaded, “this isn't a set up?”

“Never said that,” you mischievously grinned.

Minho cocked an eyebrow. “But you don't know what he looks like?”

“No,” you gleefully replied, arms folded indignantly across your chest. “I don't know what Chan looks like–”

You were cut off by Minho flailing. Either it was that you actually said it… Or that you said it just loud enough for your voice to carry. 

And right on cue, your suspicion was confirmed. 

The young executive with the soft brown waves, coordinated accessories, and likely incredibly expensive shirt that was engrossingly form-fitting in the chest and biceps – the one you’d been betting on when you caught sight of him schmoozing a cute date on the other side of the loft – definitely glanced up and around at the sound of his name. You certainly recognized him now. He’d been blonde when you first caught him looking at you at Minho’s office, but this was unmistakably the same man. Same strong nose, same dimple, same sweet little eyes that lit up when he laughed. 

You understood the appeal. 

“What’re you so worried about? He’s cute, Min,” you smirked. 

Minho currently held a glare that either meant he could kill you or kiss you right at that second. “I'm glad I have your approval,” he grumbled. 

“Tell me more,” you prompted him. You reached across the table and held his hand. 

Minho paused, looking at your thumb brushing over his knuckles. He finally sighed. “There’s not much to say. We've known each other for a long time. He just… He makes me feel…”

“Like I do?” you gently teased, trying to keep him inside the comfort of your dynamic. 

Except Minho met your gaze. “Actually?… Yeah.”

You sat up, a little caught off guard. Well, you figured, it was no wonder Minho felt shaken up by this whole development, starting from the moment he called you hyung in bed. 

“But you still feel… Like this? About me? And that’s why you feel weird?”

“Yes,” Minho nodded heartily, “but also, like, it’s weird because I'm… Y'know. Straight.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “You sure about that?” 

Minho’s shoulders drooped with a sigh. He roughly massaged his temples. “No? It's fucking confusing.”

“Then think about it this way,” you quickly suggested. “You’re straight. But there's currently an exception. One step at a time.”

“Well, it’s not like it even matters,” Minho babbled. “I'm with you!”

You both stopped now. Any discussions about you and your standing with each other was still on a minimal basis. But the butterflies in your gut were clear as day. There was a drawer in Minho’s dresser and bathroom counter with your crap in it. His shirts were in your laundry basket. You squeezed Minho’s hand. 

“And I'm with you,” you reassured him. “But what’s wrong with trying? Are we exclusive or anything?”

Minho scoffed at the thought. “Hardly. It’s just, you know… What about you?”

“What if I help?” you thoughtfully suggested. 

This was tempting, apparently, with how Minho blinked at you. The smallest sparkle lit up his eye. “You’d help? How?”

“Well,” you pondered, “I'm assuming it’s risky to just pick up your boss.”

Minho’s shaky confidence returned instantly, an exhausted sigh blowing ragged over his lips. “Jesus Christ,” he cursed with a defeated laugh, “imagine the consequences. His career? My career?! What would I even do?!”

You spied Chan on the other side of the loft, currently leaning incredibly close to a stunningly hot girl. 

Minho raised an eyebrow when you shifted your drinks aside and ordered a couple waters. “We done already?”

“Of course not,” you retorted, “I just prefer to not drink when I'm scheming.”

“Scheming?” Minho stared at you, half aghast and half intrigued. You nodded in return. 

“Come on, Min,” you invited, “tell me more about Chan.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You looked ridiculous. This was now one week since you’d first stepped into the loft at Good Night.  Minho dressed you, and from the way he could barely keep his hands off you, you were curious to see what Chan would think. First and foremost, your tits were shoved up under your chin. It wasn’t like you were suffering through a push-up bra or fashion tape situation, but you were surprised to find Minho had picked out an astonishingly nice corset top for you, all cropped and coquettish with ribbon details on the shoulders and everything. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you’d asked him. 

“Quit whining,” he scolded. “Do you want him or not?”

Of course, the boobs would only help so much. Along with the gorgeous top that was horrifyingly body-hugging, Minho also supplied you with an elegantly long and chic skirt that sported a devilish slit up the thigh. The skirt perfectly coordinated with an equally cropped blazer that you currently wore draped around your shoulders. You’d never tried this look before, but it was surprisingly not bad. 

“What do you think?” Minho had asked when you tried it all on. 

“I look like an expensive hooker,” you determined. You kept nervously fussing with the buttons on the blazer. 

“Perfect,” Minho chuckled as he fixed a dainty gold chain around your neck. He squeezed your hand away from the jacket buttons. When you batted him off, he swatted your hand instead. “We call that a ‘call girl’, by the way. How do you feel?”

You had thought about this. “I feel hot,” you decided. 

“Good. That’s because you are.”

It was still true, days later. In your heels and the other cute accessories Minho picked out for you, you felt like you were unstoppable. (Which, truthfully, only made you feel more like you were really, truly falling for him – the way the accessories and outfit still felt like good matches for you, not the fact that he bought you things… Except maybe that was also there, at least a little.) 

You snapped open your clutch purse to grab your cover charge. It’d been Minho’s idea that you also arrive separately. Even though he was only 15 or 20 people back in line, you still couldn't help but feel a little nervous for some reason. 

When you couldn't find your cover right away, you pulled the bag closer to get a better look. Instead, you got a faint whiff of the cologne dotted on your wrists. 

“You sure?” you’d asked Minho. He’d nodded heartily in return. 

“Absolutely. I know what I'm doing.”

It wasn't even his cologne or anything. He simply recalled it as a detail Chan had divulged while tipsy once: cologne always smelled better than perfume. No matter what. 

You wondered if Minho ever recalled silly little things you’d said along the same lines. 

Finally, you found your cover charge, but not before you heard it. 

“You! White skirt!”

The skirt was cream, idiot. 

Wait. 

That was you.

Holy shit, that was you. 

Your head snapped up to attention. Sure enough, the bouncer was waving you forward. 

Apparently, you actually looked as good as you felt. 

Sneaking a look back at Minho, you recognized his look as burning pride, the way his grin bordered on smug. 

The club was even more crowded than your previous trip, making you doubt your plan for just a second, but you remembered what Minho said. 

“Don’t sit at the bar. Don’t even spend a minute looking for him. Sit on a lounge bench by yourself and don’t look at your phone. Just people watch for a minute. He’ll find you instead.”

Complete and total nonsense, but you were curious nonetheless. You honestly got in your own head. Whereas there'd been no thought to pushing Minho’s buttons, you didn’t even know Chan aside from what Minho told you. 

Although Minho told you quite a lot. 

“... And you know what else bothers me? He never lets anyone stay after he leaves the office. He’s always going on and on about how he doesn't want to leave anyone behind and everyone deserving free time. Does he even know how much overtime everyone pulls on days he’s not in the office to make up for it?”

Did Minho bitch about you like that? You hoped so. The idea of him griping at Jisung over how he was annoyed with every little thing you did was miserably adorable. 

Getting lost in your thoughts for a minute helped pass time tremendously, as it turned out, but now you were worried that you hadn't caught sight of Minho yet. Even though he mentioned wanting to lurk in the background, it made you nervous to feel like you were on your own. 

Even though you sort of were. 

Was Chan even going to show? Minho had texted you when he overheard Chan talking about his plans for the night, but that never meant it was a confirmation. He easily could've–

“You’re here all alone?”

A distractingly forward voice cut through the noise and your internal distress. 

Chan?

Turning to face the greeting, you were almost startled to find – sure enough – Chan sitting beside you on the lounge bench. 

Why did you ever doubt Minho? 

Chan was wearing a suit today, a casual number without a tie and his shirt dangerously three-quarters buttoned under his open jacket. He was brazenly sitting facing you, his knee nonchalantly nudged up on the bench and his arm slung across the back without touching you. You rapidly composed yourself. 

“Excuse me?” you asked, seemingly nonplussed. 

Chan blinked in response before visibly resetting himself. 

“Be present, but not invested, not right away,” Minho had advised you before heading out here for the night. “Make him work for it.”

Here, Chan rolled his shoulders back and put his grin back on. “I asked if you’re here all alone.”

“I'm not,” you politely answered with a short shake of your head. 

Chan automatically nodded in cordial understanding. “Fair enough. Apologies for interrupting you–”

He stared at your hand on his sleeve, stopping him from getting up. 

“Is that usual?” you'd questioned Minho earlier tonight. “Making him work for it?”

And Minho had only grinned. “Not at all.”

Chan curiously held your gaze. 

“I said I'm not here alone; I didn't say I wanted you to leave.”

He warily glanced around the loft. “What if I'm not into cheating?”

“Neither am I,” you shrugged innocently. 

More intrigued than perturbed now, Chan eased back down onto the lounge bench. “So I take it that your companion is pretty private then?”

You cracked a sly grin. “Let’s say he has reason to not show himself.”

“Then you’re suggesting I know him? I know everybody,” Chan eagerly pressed on.

“Never said that. But I never said you don’t, either. He did say you're the curious type, though. Are you?” you teased.

Minho had warned you that Chan looked good when he blushed, but he didn’t tell you how easy it was to get him to do it. 

But it wasn't just that. When you were first planning all of this together, you’d made sure to ask Minho. It was important to know, after all. 

“Tell me what you want out of this, at least for the first round if that’s all we’ll get.”

Minho had considered it carefully, and you loved every second of his answer. 

Currently, Chan looked on in abject anticipation. 

“And maybe,” you resumed, “he thinks you like to show off. Maybe he wants to watch and know he got to see you with me, without you ever knowing who he is.”

You stalled before he could say anything, grabbing a hearty sip of your drink to gather some fortitude. 

It seemed you weren't the only one in need of some renewed confidence either. Chan blinked at you again and swallowed down a tough breath, processing this. 

“Not interested? I’m sorry to take up your time,” you politely apologized before moving to get up. 

However, just like Minho predicted, it was Chan’s turn to put his hand on your sleeve. 

“He wants to watch?” he carefully repeated. 

“This time, at least,” you winked, aloof. 

Chan’s ears burned bright coral. 

You leaned into his hand on your arm. Even in the low lighting of the loft, nothing obscured his distracted gaze trailing down your throat to your chest. 

“Everything okay?” you patiently implored. 

Chan nodded dumbly. “I'm not used to being caught off guard, that’s all.”

A smirk tugged at your lip. “You’ll have plenty of time to get adjusted. Anyway, I’m sure you're a real quick learner.”

The gleam in Chan’s eye was woefully endearing. You were never much for “Labrador boyfriend” energy, but Chan reminded you more of a bouncy Rottweiler. 

What would this guy look like in one of those handsome collars? Like, not even a lined, leather one, but just a chain pinch collar–

“–if your man doesn’t mind.”

Oh shit. 

You were getting distracted. Chan had just finished saying something attractive, judging by his cocksure smolder. You leaned into your distraction, cocking your head curiously. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized, “what did you say? I was already imagining what’s coming next.”

Chan, gawped, floundering again. “I, er, was just saying I'd love to show you a good time, if your man doesn't mind.”

“Oh, Chan,” you cooed, “of course he doesn’t mind. He wants this, remember?”

Now he was just ogling you. Did you say something wrong?

“How did– who– so you do know my name?”

Fuck. 

Your pause betrayed how much you were scrambling to stay cool. The most devious grin spread across Chan’s face before he scooted forward. Now you were hip to hip on the bench. You backed up an inch in surprise but Chan only leaned in, gaze hungry. “I was right,” he eagerly implored. “If you don’t know me, your guy definitely does. Who are you?”

“Chan,” you repeated, regaining composure as you did so and sitting up into his space, “of course I know you. I know lots of things.”

He devilishly met you in the middle, your lips a few inches from his now. “I bet you do,” he murmured. He was staring at your mouth, eyes half-lidded. “What else do you know?”

You called his bluff, pushing forward another inch until he pulled back, just barely. “I know,” you paused for dramatic effect, “that you want to get me in a taxi right now and do whatever it takes to find out everything I know.”

The bit about the cab was explicitly supplied by Minho. 

“If there’s anything the idiot loves more than his job, his flat, or getting laid, it’s the Rover. He’ll turn himself inside out to give you a ride, especially if he thinks you're not expecting it.”

And damn it all if he wasn't right again, because Chan looked like he could eat you alive right then. Did Minho know everything about you, too? 

“Come on,” Chan urged you as he got up. Despite his neediness, his hold on your hand was incredibly gentle, a smooth little motion of scooping up your fingers in his. “You tell me where and we’ll go. You into cars? I have–”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down champ,” you giggled, not letting go of his hand but using your other to play with the buttons on his suit jacket. “You’re just gonna take me? Wherever? Even his place?”

“I don't give a shit if you want to go to Brazil, if I’m being honest,” laughed Chan, “I’d book us a flight right this second. But if it’s about safety, that’s fine, I'll gladly take a cab.”

Minho did make it clear that although Chan was a jackass, he was not a creep. And, unsurprisingly, he was right again. Chan’s eyes followed as your hand lifted to cup his face. His chin was ridiculously smooth. God, he even knew how to shave. Minho had good taste. 

“Come on, then,” you nodded towards the stairs, “show me your nice car.”

As it turned out, Chan's car was every bit as dumb as Minho told you it was, but you found yourself fond of how proud he was of the thing. It was nice, sure, but you were more interested in how spotless he kept it. When he opened the door for you, the Rover smelled almost brand new, like it’d just been detailed.

Driving with Chan was a whole other story. Thank god Minho lived close, because your mind was racing. One hand on the wheel, Chan’s other hand possessively held your knee. He’d asked, of course, if it was okay, and here you were, lost in thought as you watched his thumb brush little circles on your kneecap. He hadn’t been able to access your bare skin immediately, though. His pinky edged under the hem on the slit of your skirt so he could smooth the fabric out of his way. You liked his approach; it was forward without being overbearing, a neat little acceleration of how much you'd been firing each other up in the club. 

The conversation was still mostly focused on him, at your insistence. He asked what you did for work, but all you told him was it was a boring little job. Nothing like his job, by the look of it. 

“Eh,” Chan dismissed, “it’s a career. It’s second nature by now.”

He did keep trying, though, and when you wouldn't give up, he tried prying more info about Minho out of you. In fact, Minho warned you about this. He said Chan liked to tout having a silver tongue with clients, but your boyfriend preferred to say Chan simply talked so much that his clients would do anything to shut him up.

Wait. 

Boyfriend?

Minho was your boyfriend, right?

It felt good to say it, at least in your head. 

“Have you done this before?” Chan prodded. “Picking up guys together?”

You tried to get back in the game mentally. “Would it make you feel more special if we haven't?”

Chan’s face was pink again. 

“Cute,” you teased, lifting a hand to ease your fingers back through his hair. You weren't surprised to find your hand didn't come back with hair product residue. 

It should be said, you reminded yourself, that all these little revelations weren’t too different from similar ones you’d had about Minho in recent months. He was also astoundingly put together. It just made sense, you supposed, that Chan seemed to fit the same kind of image. 

There was one spare parking spot for Minho’s building, but you already knew that. Minho had confirmed the week before that one of his neighbors was out of town. You were just about to open the passenger side door of the Rover when your phone buzzed. 

>>STALL FOR ONE SECOND I got held up by coat check and only managed to leave a minute before you. 

“Everything alright?” Chan asked, getting your attention back. The concern in his face told you that you may have been internally screaming at your phone. 

“No, yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him before opening the door. Chan dutifully jumped out after you and jogged around to your side, offering you a hand. You looked at him, almost eye to eye in your heels. “I do want to know, though, for my own purposes…” 

This wasn't part of the script, but you needed to stall, apparently. 

And you were curious. 

Chan looked on intently. 

“I guess what I'm wanting to know,” you carefully continued, “was what brought you out here. The prospect… Or me?”

Chan’s gaze softened, matching his grin. His hand gently held you at the elbow. “It’s definitely a proposition I've never gotten before…But I also haven't met many women like you. Your guy’s pretty damn lucky.”

Okay, maybe you were getting more on board with Minho’s praise of the guy. 

You paused, though, when Chan leaned in, his lips almost on yours when you stopped him. “Sorry, handsome,” you apologetically giggled, “you gotta save it.”

“No, what?” Chan whined, but he backed up immediately. “Don’t make me wait–”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the elevator, “you don’t have to wait long.”

As expected, Chan’s eyes were everywhere, even in the elevator, looking for any hint of who you were with, so you got his attention back again. His brows jumped when you easily wrapped your arms around his strong neck, herding him against the back wall of the elevator. He tested the waters a little, getting a hand around your waist before you swiftly swatted him off. 

“What, you’re not gonna be good for me?” he cooly smirked, teasingly trying again before you roughly grabbed onto his hand. His eyes widened, looking caught. You kept your composure despite retaining your sharp grip on his hand. 

“One thing you’re going to learn very quickly,” you smiled sweetly for him, “is if anyone wants me to be good for them, they have to earn it.”

Minho earned it. Who knew if Chan ever would. 

“Of course,” Chan nodded attentively. 

You combed your fingers through his hair again, liking how he seemed to enjoy it. “Do you want to be good for me?” 

Chan raised an eyebrow. You leaned away a little. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ve just, er… I've never had anyone ask before.”

Hilarious. Of course. You should’ve known–

“– But I'd love to try.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow back at him. Your fingers still in his hair, you tried a tentative tug, only craning his head back an inch or so. His fingers squeezed your waist appreciatively in return. “You think you want to say sorry for getting overly eager with me a second ago?”

Chan scoffed. “What, when I got a little too fresh with you? Yeah it turned out to be too much but–”

“But you can just say sorry like I asked,” you chided him, your voice syrupy sweet while you tugged his hair more sharply. 

His hissed inhale was cute. “Yes, baby,” he gritted out, “I’m sorry.”

“I like the way you say baby,” you cooed. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, halfway dazed, “yeah, that was definitely okay”

“Plenty more where that came from,” you assured him, cupping his cheek. 

How long had the elevator been stationary at Minho’s floor?

Well, you’d definitely stalled a little.

You took Chan’s hand and led him down the hall to Minho’s flat. A deep breath stagnated in your lungs. There was really no going back from this. 

Then again, there was really no going back from the moment you let Chan sit next to you at the club.

No, you reminded yourself. You wanted this. And the fact that Minho wanted this, too, was even better. You really felt unstoppable like this.

The doorknob gave way easily when you turned it, Minho making sure there’d be little to no barrier when you arrived. Chan followed close behind, still holding your hand. Like you planned, the flat was fairly dark, only some candles and dim lamps lighting the living room. You stopped in front of the chaise on the wall opposite Minho’s bedroom. Chan’s eyes were still wandering, trying to glean any hints to Minho’s identity in the decor. Thankfully, you’d thought to stow all his photos for the night, and the dark room meant it was difficult to tell if an innocuous item like a vase was sentimental or purely decorative. 

You gently but pointedly pulled down on Chan’s hand so he'd sit beside you on the lounge. He was still ridiculously distracted. You cupped his face so he would look at you. 

“Weren't you waiting for something?” you patiently asked. 

Chan’s pout was going to kill you. 

“Waiting–? Oh, I mean, yeah–”

“Then close your eyes and put this on, handsome.”

You held up a necktie, magically producing it from its hiding place in the couch and Chan wavered momentarily before he closed his eyes. He leaned forward, letting you knot the necktie into a blindfold, but not without Chan markedly pausing. His nose pointed towards the tie. You wondered if Chan recognized Minho’s cologne. Maybe it was simply familiar, but the idea that the scent jogged his memory made you ache in your growing desire.

It was cute to imagine Chan hadn't done this in years, following someone else’s lead… If not ever. He didn't really strike you as the type. Your reading led you to believe Chan was always calling the shots. 

The tinkling of a whiskey rock in a lowball glass signaled you to Minho’s presence, and you weren't the only one. Despite the blindfold, Chan clearly perked up at the noise. Minho leaned against the doorway of his bedroom, taking a sip from his drink while he watched you both. His shirt was opened by a couple buttons, and he'd abandoned his jacket so he could roll up his cuffs. Knowing him, this wasn't his first drink since he got home, and he was already warm. He shared a sweet, proud smile with you. 

“He wants you to kiss me,” you told Chan, stroking your fingers through his hair again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked in return. 

Minho shook his head into his drink. You already loved how much Chan pushed all his buttons without even meaning to. 

“Of course I do, sweetie,” you laughed. “Now quit making me wait.”

Chan nodded, his own hand searching out your cheek and pulling you close. His breath was hot against your lips, a single moment of hesitance before he kissed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the poignant rise and fall of Minho’s deep inhale swelling his chest. He moved to sit down in his favorite chair in front of his bookcase. 

Meanwhile, that first kiss was the only barrier Chan needed to pass, from what you could tell. Instantly, he was right back to his previous boldness, pulling you close and exploring your mouth with his tongue. This was already a delicious change of pace. Whereas Minho liked to push and pull with you, Chan was plain hungry. Every inch you gave him became a mile. You started running down the list of things you and Minho agreed on, all the things you wanted to do and he wanted to see. The moment you led Chan’s hand to your knee, he immediately grabbed your leg and pulled you over so you were sitting on his lap, his tongue still in your throat and ravenously trying to get more and more of you. Barely a second had passed before his hands were already moving from your waist to your hips to the curve of your ass. Your skirt strained where your knees were parted to straddle him and instead you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, reeling him in while you leaned back to recline on the couch. Chan followed, blind and dutiful, and swallowed a breath when he felt you lead his hands to the zip of your skirt. He paused then, a hand on your hip waiting for any positive signal until you writhed up into his palm. You hummed contentedly while he slowly pulled the zip down, raising your hips to allow him to shimmy the garment down and off of you. This left you in your heels, your sheer panties, and the flirty corset top. 

Across the room, Minho methodically swirled his glass in one hand while he watched, his other strategically resting on the visible bulge in his slacks.  

Chan was surprised when you stopped him, his hands paused by your own. You led him to sit up beside you again, and then stand. First you slipped off your blazer, carelessly dropping it to the floor. He turned his head slightly, following the sound of your heels on the hardwood when you stepped behind him. His broad shoulders tensed when you ran your hands over them. You slipped off his suit jacket, folding it and dropping it on the coffee table. Next was the shirt, easy work with most of the buttons already undone. You simply unclipped his expensive cufflinks, dropped them into his shirt pocket, and this joined the jacket on the table as well. Not too long ago, you nearly lost Minho’s favorite cufflinks in this very room after being too rushed. You peeked over Chan’s shoulder to catch Minho absolutely devouring your date for the night with his eyes. Right now his gaze was firmly locked on Chan’s cut form, his defined pecs and rippling abs. You couldn't blame him. Chan shivered when you reached around his middle to get a teasing feel of his abdomen. You leaned your lips up to Chan’s ear from behind, all the while your hands now sank down to the zip of his suit pants.

“Okay, baby,” you smiled, “tell us why we brought you home.”

Chan sucked in a breath at the sound and feel of you slowly pulling down his zipper. “Because you want me?” he answered, surprisingly on the brink of timid. 

“Right,” you nodded. “And why do we want you?”

Chan's ears were pink again. You brazenly ran a hand down to get a quick squeeze of him. He shivered, curling in on himself with his inhale. 

“Because, heh – mmh – I'm hot?” he tentatively asked, trying to keep that cocky edge intact. 

“Very hot,” you praised. Meanwhile, Chan surreptitiously stepped out of his shoes, but froze when you actually opened and dropped his slacks. He was down to his stupidly expensive boxer briefs. His hand covered yours. 

“W-wait,” he stopped you. “I didn't get a chance to say yet, but… I can blow my shot real fucking easy if I'm not careful.”

Minho arched a curious eyebrow. 

You placed a comforting kiss on the nape of Chan’s neck. “Oh, baby,” you soothed, “you say that like it's a bad thing.”

“No, not at all,” he flustered, “I just, I mean – what I'm trying to say is – there's usually a whole process to this.”

“You have a routine?” you teased. Minho watched you sink back down onto the lounge. 

If your ears didn't lie, Chan almost whined. “When you put it like that–” 

“Underwear off,” you pleasantly demanded. 

The swirling of Minho’s ice in his glass sped up when Chan complied. 

Guy was built. Cute back dimples and everything. Needed some work in his legs, but who didn’t?

You spread your knees, patting the upholstery between them. “Come here. Sit back down, baby.” 

Chan carefully lowered himself between your legs. You lifted your heels, hooking them inside his knees from behind to spread him open. 

Minho watched intently the first time you touched Chan’s bare cock. It wasn’t thick, it wasn’t long, but it did feel just as handsome as the rest of him. And if Chan was pink, then the head was almost red, you mused. You wistfully imagined Minho was wishing it was his own hand on it. Chan choked out a groan, almost like he’d been holding his breath, and immediately relaxed into your chest. He was fully exposed for your boyfriend, getting his dick stroked while he moaned and sighed. 

“Tell me what the whole process is,” you directed towards his ear. “Tell me why else we brought you home. 

“I go down,” he immediately answered. “I always get them there first, feels so fucking good and helps me last longer.”

Minho almost sat up straighter and you knew why. Despite having both taken turns going down, plenty of times, neither of you could really say it was your favorite activity. 

You put your open palm under Chan’s full lips. “Spit, handsome.”

Chan didn't hesitate, immediately letting a good drip of saliva drop into your hand. He threw his head back when you reapplied your newly lubed hand to his strained erection. 

“And then what,” you asked him, “you get to be hot and attentive and then what.”

“Hmn, oh shit,” he cursed when you sped up, “then I get mine.”

“Yeah?” you smiled. “That’s it? They get theirs and then you get yours? Let’s see what that looks like.”

Chan nervously giggled. “Never said the process was complex, it just– oh fuck,” he croaked, his breath shaking while you fisted his leaking cock. Just like that, Chan dropped his head back onto your shoulder while he came. The way you held his length aimed it low on his belly. 

From the magical hiding spot in the chaise came one of Minho’s pocket squares. You mused for a moment if these also smelled like your boyfriend while you cleaned Chan up enough to keep going. One last swipe left a bead of cum on your forefinger. You lifted this up to Chan’s lips, only for him to automatically poke his tongue out and hungrily taste it. 

“Oh, I knew it,” you gushed. “I didn’t even have to ask.”

Chan was simply rosy and catching his breath when you wrapped your fingers into his perfect hair. He turned his attention to you. “Now what, baby, tell me what's next.”

You led him down to kneel in front of the chaise. “You like to go down? I wanna see.”

Minho had already freed himself from his slacks and was lazily palming himself, licking the whiskey off his lips while he watched Chan blindly feel for your knees so he could work his way up to the waistband of your scant panties. His fingers were careful with the delicate fabric. Properly bared for him, he spread you nice and wide on the chaise before slinging your legs over his shoulders. First, Chan kissed and nipped at your abdomen, leaving a couple little love bites on his way down between your thighs. He breathed you in before taking one sampling taste of you. You both shivered at the first feel of his tongue on your wet clit. 

When you noticed Chan’s pause, you sat up. Minho looked on expectantly. Chan was waiting.

“More,” you urged him.

Chan dove into you then, licking and tasting every inch of your hot pussy that he could reach. He felt out all of your favorite little spots, too. Your back arched, your breath hitching in your throat when he pressed into you with his tongue. You stopped him now. If he kept this up you’d be a goner. You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him back, loving how he groaned for you. He caught his breath, waiting for you to give him the next direction when he felt your hand on his half-hard cock, this time with Minho’s pocket square wrapping around him.

“Think you can cum again while you’re down there?” you challenged him.

Chan paused, pouty lips shiny wet with you. “You want me to?”

You cracked a smug grin. “I want you to go until you hit empty.”

You could’ve sworn he blushed at that, too. It felt like half the words out of your mouth were nothing he’d ever heard before. Minho nodded in agreement behind him.

“Yes, baby,” Chan dutifully answered, taking over from your grip on his quickly regrowing erection before diving back into you, herding you back onto the chaise so he could lick you again. 

You were coming apart under Chan’s tongue. Minho was amazing at it but something about Chan told you that, apparently, someone could really love eating pussy. He held onto your hips and thighs, grinding his moaning breath into you while he jerked himself off. Within minutes, he shivered as he came again. You shot up to support yourself on your straightened arms.

“Did you just–?”

“You told me to,” Chan panted, as if it were obvious. He lifted the blindfold to gaze up at you. His flushed cheeks and chest were adorably shiny with perspiration by now.

You and Minho glanced at each other, doe eyed.

“And can you… go again?” you tentatively asked.

He nodded emphatically. “Yeah, baby.”

“Oh my god,” you marveled. You gently grabbed him by the chin and led him back to your heat. 

Chan got right back into it, licking you while clearly giving his cock a moment to rest before you could feel him gently stroking it again.

Good Christ, you groaned internally, could you imagine edging him?

The thought alone was getting you to your peak even faster than before.

And it was like Chan knew.

“Baby,” he pleaded into your pussy, “tell me I can touch you.”

You felt the fingertips of his free hand tease your hot entrance. He rode the line without ever crossing it. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I wanna feel it.”

For a moment, you were worried you’d be thrown off by the change of pace, but Chan was surprisingly astute with how he approached it. His fingertips slowly, slowly rocked into you, in pace with the grinding of his tongue. The stretch was almost too natural, and before you knew it, he was pumping his fingers right into your spot. You let out a breathy whine at how pliant yet attentive Chan was being. When he clearly hit the right rhythm, he never let up. Before too long, your peak was right there. With the blindfold still lifted up, his eyes were locked on you in determination. 

Your fingers were in his hair again, getting his attention. “Baby,” you urgently sighed, “you’re gonna make me–!”

You threw your head back into the chaise with the force of your orgasm, your thighs spasming and clenching onto Chan while he moaned into you. He licked you up until you pushed him off, fighting for breath, gripping onto the cushions of the lounge.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, dazed.

“Good, right?” Chan eagerly asked, still panting.

“Yeah,” you nodded, a little more lucidly. “Did you–”

“No,” Chan almost whimpered. “I haven't gone this many times in years.”

“But you still can?” you verified. 

“I need to,” he insisted. 

“Good,” you smirked, slipping his blindfold back down and dipping your thumb in between his lips. He automatically began sucking on it, until you curled your fingers around his jaw and pulled, hauling him up onto the lounge beside you. 

Chan gasped and whined when you immediately threw a leg over his lap and straddled him. You dragged a fingernail down his toned chest. 

“What now?” he asked, hushed anticipation filling his voice. 

Minho was teasing his fingertips over the dripping head of his erection. 

You seated yourself right on Chan’s hardness, enveloping him in your soft heat and getting a broken groan out of him. “We’re just finishing this one off, baby,” you assured him. 

“How’re you–oh Jesus Christ–”

Chan clawed into the chaise when you pulled all the way off of him. You sank him inside again, repeating the motion, taking him all the way to the hilt and then lifting completely off of him. 

“You love getting fucked, don’t you, baby,” you mewled. 

This poor man was quivering under you. “Yes – fuck – god, yes, baby, I do,” he babbled. 

You slid your hot pussy onto his cock and right back off again. Just for the added torture, you reached up and tweaked his nipples. Chan let out a garbled curse. 

“Oh,” you simpered while you maintained the same arduous cycle, “what a perfect slut. So good for me.”

Chan whimpered again. “Baby, baby,” he panted, “I can’t, I have to–”

“Not yet,” you scolded him, pinching his nipple again. “Tell him how good it is.”

“Him–?” Chan asked, almost too dazed to understand at first. You looked behind you. Minho was panting, groaning while he touched himself. 

“Him,” you repeated. “My boyfriend wants to know how good it is. Tell him I'm gonna make you cum.”

“Fuck, she’s so good,” Chan immediately commended, “her pussy’s fucking perfect, she’s gonna make me fucking bust–”

“Do it, then,” you instructed. “Fucking bust, slut.”

“God damn,” Chan hissed, “yes, baby, whatever you want–”

He shut up again when you hesitated for a moment. You'd still been keeping up the same torturous cycle of never properly riding him, only teasing his whole length inside you before pulling off. This time, you paused for a second before taking him back inside. This, apparently, was nearly all he needed. Chan writhed under you, needy and desperate, until you rode him properly, grinding him upwards inside your heat. He was fully moaning out loud now, not stopping until his breathing hitched. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna–”

When you pulled off of him again at the last second, you could've sworn he almost sobbed, bucking his orgasming cock into nothing and coating his stomach in his cum again. 

The incredible thing was, however, Chan was still hard. Even when you let him catch his breath for a good minute. 

“You bitch,” Chan wheezed out a laugh while you cleaned him up.

“Was it that bad?” you pretended to pout. 

He shook his head. “No, it was weird. Interesting might be a better word for it, but that was a weird fucking orgasm.”

“Want a better one?” you propositioned.

Chan lifted his head off the chaise to look at you, humorous with the blindfold still on. “Wait. Seriously?”

You glanced behind you. Even Minho seemed surprised, but his sly grin communicated a persistent pride. 

Minho knew you loved impressing him. 

“Yeah,” you insisted, letting him feel you climb off of him so you could melt down beside him onto the lounge. “I wanna wring you dry. Come here and fuck me properly.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Chan blurted. He instantly scrambled off the chaise and fell back onto his knees on the floor. 

“Now?” you stalled, suddenly bashful from his eagerness. 

Chan yanked the blindfold down now that he wasn’t facing Minho’s direction and roughly grabbed his cock. “Look at me,” he goaded you, crazed, “I'm ready to go. Let me fuck you properly.”

You nodded dumbly, a bit gobsmacked by how he retained this edge to him even when he was bordering on submissive. Chan scooped a hand under you to sit you up. His other spread your knees and scooted your ass to the edge of the chaise. 

“Please kiss me again, baby,” he gruffly pleaded. 

You grabbed onto the makeshift blindfold, now a makeshift leash. Chan grunted when you pulled him closer together. “You want it?” you asked sweetly. 

“I need it,” Chan clarified. “Please, baby, please kiss me.”

You nodded, closing your eyes while you reeled him in, the meeting of your lips coinciding with him sliding into you again. He groaned hot and urgent into your mouth, and already his hands were all over you. Chan fucked you firm but not too rough. He doubled the thrust by pulling you onto his sensitive cock at the same time, his fingers clutching your ass while he sloppily nipped and kissed your neck. 

“Is your boyfriend getting off on this?” Chan asked sweetly into your ear. 

Over his shoulder, you could see Minho spit into his own palm to lube up his erection, his head lolling back into the easy chair while he touched himself. 

“Yeah baby,” you nodded, already fucked dumb yourself. 

“And you?” he teased. “You like your boyfriend watching you get fucked?”

“Yeah,” you whined desperately, thrusting back. 

“Who’s really the little slut– oh fuck–” Chan cursed roughly as you tugged hard on the necktie wrapped around his throat. Your back arched, getting a sordid moan out of both of you when this created more of a grinding angle in your hips. 

“No question about it,” you breathlessly taunted, “only a little slut can go three times.”

“If you keep that up,” Chan whimpered, “it’s gonna be four.”

“Fuck,” you whined pathetically, “Channie, you're hitting my spot–”

“Channie?” he repeated, nosing his lips up to your ear. God he was insatiable. “Oh, I like that. You like Channie pounding into your g-spot, baby?”

“God, you're annoying,” you cutely ribbed him. “Make me cum, Channie.”

“Give it to me,” he pleaded. “You gotta tell me so I can pull out and finish–”

“Pull out?” you questioned. 

Chan raised his eyebrows at you. “You don’t want me to?”

“I said,” you repeated with a measured amount of menace, “I want to wring you dry.”

It was Chan's turn to look a bit gobsmacked. That multiplied when you wrapped your legs around him, hooking your ankles behind his back. You were getting that headrush back. He craned his neck when you pulled at the necktie again. “You’re going to make me cum, Channie,” you explained, “and when I do, you're going to fill me up.”

“Yes, baby,” he desperately nodded. He was still grinding into you. “Just like this?”

You nodded, stealing a kiss from him. “Yeah, Channie, I love it. You want me to cum all over your cock?”

“Please,” he growled into your mouth, “come on baby, let me cum inside your perfect pussy.”

Your goddamn vision was going hazy from how fast Chan was getting you there. Everything went so fast when you hit your peak. Your nails raked into Chan’s biceps when you finally unraveled, your cries and moans indecipherable from his own when your hearing dropped out momentarily. He hit his high right after you, clutching you tight against him while his hips stuttered with the force of his orgasm. Minho's empty whiskey glass hit the floor while he tried to stifle his curses, biting into his knuckles while he sprayed right onto the hardwood. Thankfully, the glass didn't shatter, only traveling a handful of inches to the floor. 

There was only gasps and sighs for air in the ensuing silence. Minho caught his breath for a moment before he would make his planned return to his bedroom. You collapsed back onto the chaise, stroking Chan's hair where he’d crumpled on top of you. He was hugging you tight around the middle. 

“That was amazing,” you appreciated, punctuating this with a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“The feeling is mutual,” Chan chuckled. He kissed you beside your navel when he straightened back up. “Can’t say I saw this coming when I went out tonight.”

There was a shy quiet while Chan plucked his shirt up off the table behind him. It was almost romantic, the way he was still inside you. 

“So do I get to meet this mystery man?” he asked casually, fishing his cufflinks out of his shirt pocket. 

“He’ll prefer to keep his privacy,” you smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you understand.”

Behind him, Minho finally arose from his chair, picking up his glass and ready to head back to the bedroom. 

“Sure,” Chan nodded. “So do you think he’d mind a date, then? Just me and you?”

You stared, mouth agape. Minho paused too. His hand was tight around the glass. 

“You’re joking, right?” you carefully laughed. 

“No!” Chan laughed back. Was he serious or was he trying to get his way and see Minho? “I’m sure he won't mind,” he continued. “We already fucked. I already made you cum. Twice, may I add. I'm sure he’d understand if I want to see you again.”

“Careful, Channie,” you tried to playfully warn him. 

“What,” Chan teased back, taking his sweet time easing out of you. “Maybe he’d like it. He already like watching us fuck in his apartment. Maybe he'd like sharing you–”

“Don’t be dumb, handsome,” you warned him again. Minho fully faced away from the bedroom now. “How do you know it’s not my apartment?”

“It’s clearly not your apartment,” Chan persisted. “But I can show you mine if you show me yours–fuck!”

You’d wondered how long Minho would last, and the answer was not very long at all. He marched right over, kicking a foot up under Chan’s arm to punt him onto the floor. Chan cursed and sat up, quickly grabbing his trousers to cover himself and discover Minho standing over him. 

The two men stared at each other, Minho’s glare meeting Chan’s wide-eyed panic. 

Instead of backing down, though, Minho did what he was best at. He squared his shoulders back, unyielding. 

“I tried telling her, hyung, sometimes you refuse to shut the fuck up.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #lee know smut #OOOOH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE HOPE YOU ENJOY #bang chan breakdown #bang chan #lee know #lee minho

[neos127]

dating them includes !

pairing: skz x reader genre: fluff warnings: none ©yyx2

chan! late nights. led lights. hushed conversations. lap sitting. sharing earbuds. bear hugs. stealing his hoodies. sneak peaks at what he’s working on. night drives. movie dates. having a best friend and boyfriend in one. shy kisses.

lee know! mukbangs. cat play dates. teasing. going on walks together. reading to each other. back hugs. subtle hand holding. movie marathons. actions over words. constant updates by text. teaching you choreography. forehead kisses. random competitions.

changbin! soft smiles. cheek kisses. domestic shopping trips. encouraging words. cuddling on the couch. lots of laughter. working out together. making you laugh all the time. sweet pet names. lunch dates. kissing in the rain. dancing in the kitchen late at night.

hyunjin! playing with his hair. surprise kisses. soft caresses. multiple sketches of you. you’re his muse. helps you with whatever he can. sleeping in. spa nights. deep conversations. aesthetic photos. picnics. cooking for each other. intense eye contact.

han! laughing until your stomachs hurt. lazy days in bed. clingy affection. pulling all nighters. stupid nicknames. random items that remind him of you. binging shows. matching items. sharing food. horror movies. always has his head in your lap.

felix! spontaneous facetime calls. playing with each other’s fingers. ‘cheer up brownies’ from him. walks in the park. sharing clothes. friendship bracelets. swinging your linked hands. fluffy blankets. quality time. baking together at 3am. encouraging words.

seungmin! early morning walks. your personal photographer. bouquets of flowers. cheesy jokes. strolls on the beach. meaningful gifts. plushies. cuddles by the fireplace. halloween couple costumes. cheek poking. card games. praising each other.

i.n! matching outfits. lots of couple photos. cafe dates. neck kisses. headpats. playlists dedicated to you. play fighting. mini adventures. candid photos. iced americanos in the mornings. lots and lots of hand holding. borrowing his hoodies.

#SOME OF THESE DO NOT FIT THEM AT ALL IM SORRY #mental breakdown trying to figure this out y’all #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #seo changbin x reader #changbin imagines #changbin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung fluff #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #felix fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #jeongin imagines

[agendratum]

.

#i know i said i'll go do something else #but we all know that's a lie #anyway i'm just laughing at myself nervously #cause i'm sitting here having a slight mental breakdown to the sound of #bang chan slapping himself on his thighs #(i'm watching his live in the background. a welcome change of the vibe) #chattering

[horanghaepower]

Vote to start calling Chris "Big Bang" like in the lyrics of Megaverse? Because he's creating the megaverse with producing and creating with all the members 🥺

#this has been tumblr user horanghaepower's regularly scheduled producer breakdown your regularly scheduled blogging will resume in a moment #skz #bangchan #bang chan #chris bang #straykids #powerup! #woofpaws #i think it fits esp w his last name 🥺

[decembermoonskz]

I see y’all voting hehe I’m glad you guys can find options you like ^^ if you rb pls tell me why or just which you chose I like reading tags hehe

in the meantime I must rest bc break is over and class is tmr and I’m *sigh* 🫠

#izzy.txt★ #on the plus side my assignment I need to do seems fun so I’ll do that and then MORE BANG CHAN STUDIES #I think I’ll wait to post them until I’m done with preliminary studies #I liked my first one but his face turned out a bit small?? like his overall face shape should’ve been longer #you’ll see what I mean when I post it HAHA #def room for improvement but I’m proud of myself for fighting through the fear and drawing him again #time for breakdown studies now >:) #edit: ALSO I AM NERVOUS BC IDK HOW MY PROF IS GONNA GRADE MY MIDTERM LIKE I THINK I DID OKAY BUT ALSO AAAAAAAAAAA

[straylightdream]

rose-colored boy

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: bang chan x reader

↳ Life never goes as planned, when you were younger you always imagined as reaches your mid twenties you would be married with kids. Instead you’re stuck at home helping take care of your sick grandmother and still desperately searching for her fathers approval. The only thing in your life that makes you feel normal is Chan.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non idol au, romance, angst, smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit sex, anxiety, and mentions of depression, crying and lots of emotions.

𝐚𝐧: I’m reworking a story I posted in 2020 here. This story is a one shot right now, but if there is enough interest I might write a part two.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲

The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is an all too familiar feeling that you’re a disappointment. Inhaling a deep breath you're listening to your father gush about your brother and his new wife. Your younger brother sports a proud smile listening to your father. This family dinner was exactly like all the other ones you have shared.

“Y/N have you considered going back to school?” Your father asks, pointing his attention back at you.

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath attempting not to roll your eyes at your father. He’s aware that you don’t have time to go back to school. He chooses to ignore the fact that your grandmother's condition is getting worse and your mother needs all the help she can get. Your father tends to live in his own world ignoring the problems you and your mother and his ex wife face. He stopped caring long before he left your mother, so it’s not like this is anything new.

Looking at your brother you give him a pleading look. You wished he would recognize your silent begging for help.

“I would love too, but mom needs my help with grandma,” you try your hardest to keep your tone even. You don’t need your father or your stepmother Hae-Won commenting about your bitchy attitude.

“Your mother needs to put her in a home and move on,” your father’s cold tone stings. He’s always been a more distant man, but at one point he did actually love your mother and her family.

“Mom needs Y/N,” your brother finally speaks up defending you.

“Darling, listen to your son,” Hae-Won rested her hand on your father's arms. Your stepmother tends to be the voice of reason when it comes to your father. Hae-Won is a kind woman and she always attempts to treat you with kindness.

Dinner continues with a blur. Your father has switched his attention back to your brother and his career. Standing up, walking outside desperately needing fresh air and escape from constant judgment. Your brother walks outside with his car keys in his hand.

“Sorry that was so rough,” he finally speaks.

Shoving your hands in your jeans pockets you try to act like you aren’t fazed by their constant judgment.

“Joshua, that was like every single dinner we have,” looking down at your feet you sigh.

“YN, I’m sorry I’m not there for mom,” he reaches his hand out resting it on your shoulder.

“You’re married now, Rosie needs you.”

Your brother being married had nothing to do with him not helping mom. The moment Joshua went to university he found his escape from the life you were now trapped in. If it wasn’t for you your mother would lose her mind. Your grandmother's Alzheimer's started getting bad while you were in high school, and proceeded to get worse while you were in your first year of university. Your mother’s mental breakdown during the summer after your first year pushed you to drop out to help out at home.

“Did you need a ride home?” your brother asks.

Silently you nod.

The ride was filled with awkward conversation. You and your brother used to be close. When he was at home you used to be best friends. He quickly found a life away from you and your mother. You can’t blame him though. If you were given the chance to run away from all this you in a heartbeat. You dreamed of a life away from yours. You want a life when you don't struggle to get by. You want a life that doesn't feel completely trapped. You desperately want to go back to school and get your degree, but it’s just not an option.

Pulling into the drive of your family home Joshua puts the car in park, but doesn’t turn it off. You want to ask if he’s gonna go inside to see mom, but you know the answer.

“You should come over to have dinner with Rosie and I.” He’s always trying to get you to be closer with his wife.

“Okay,” you say, getting out of the car. Glancing back at your brother while shutting the door you see him wearing a sad smile. You wished things between you and your brother weren’t so strained.

Walking inside you find your mother sitting in the living room talking to your grandmother.

“Hi,” you stop and wave at them.

“Are you my granddaughter?” Your grandmother asks, looking at you.

Your stomach drops and you put on your best fake smile you can possibly muster and nod your head. It never gets any easier. The feeling of her not remembering you feels like a dagger slowly being pushed into your chest. You think back constantly to the days where your grandmother was your favorite person. Back to the days when your parents would fight and your grandmother would come and pick you up and take you out to get ice cream. All the sweet memories you used to share have slowly started drifting away. You can’t help but feel mad that you’re watching one of the people you love most in the world drift away. You’re not nearly as patient with her as you’ve been in the past. You curse yourself each time you give the slightest attitude answering the same question for the hundredth time. It’s hard to explain the way you feel. In the earlier stages when you first dropped out of school you used to sit for hours with your mother keeping her company as she watched her mother, but as the more time has passed its grown more difficult to sit there. These days your grandmother could barely maintain a conversation, and most of her questions were about sore subjects. She often asks your mother where her husband is. Or asked if you were married. Your dating life in itself was a touchy subject. You had zero desire to bring someone into your life. You were trapped enough that nobody deserved to be dragged into this life.

“How was dinner?” Your mother asked, standing up.

“Fine,” you lied, turning on your heels and heading down the hallway towards your room.

Shutting the door press your back against the door and let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone to see a text from Felix. It simply read “come over to mine and Jisung’s for drinks at eight.”

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you saw it was already eight thirty. You already had a rough night. You should probably take a hot shower and call it a night. Holding your phone up you stared at his text for a solid moment before you simply responded, “be there soon.”

Opening your door walking back into the living room you find your grandma sitting alone. Walking into the small kitchen you find your mom pouring herself a large glass of wine.

“Did you need my help tonight?” You prayed she would say no. You needed a night with your friends especially after your dinner with your dad.

“Where are you going?”

“Felix invited me over for drinks,” you give her a small smile.

“I’m assuming your father was in one of his moods,” she brings the red wine up her lips and takes a big gulp.

“I’m nothing more than disappointment, especially when I’m next to the shining star known as Joshua,” you sound bitter, but you can’t help it. You would be lying to yourself if you said you aren’t jealous of your younger brother.

“You’re not a disappointment,” your mother states.

“Dad thinks I am,” you don’t want to talk about it anymore. This subject just makes you feel even worse.

“Your father's opinion doesn’t matter.” You wish that was true, but for some reason your father’s opinion felt like everything to you. You’ve lived your whole life wanting nothing more than your father's approval.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Stepping outside you're greeted by the cold autumn air. You choose to walk to the boys place. It’s only a ten minute walk, and you know the walk will give you time to clear your head. You need this time to push away the feeling of disappointment and sadness.

Walking up to the door you knock and step back. It takes all of thirty seconds before Jisung opens the door and pulls you inside. Looking around. In the apartment you see a small group of friends. It’s Felix, Jisung and their six guy friends and three girls. You recognize the blonde girl Soomin as the girl Seungmin has been trying to hook up with.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” Jisung says.

Nodding you walk into the kitchen. In the small white kitchen you find Chan talking to Felix. Felix wastes no time reaching forward pulling you into a hug.

Pulling away, Felix holds your shoulders and looks at you with his eyebrows knit together. “Why are you so tense?”

“I had dinner with my father and Joshua.”

“Is your father still acting the same?” Felix is one of the few people who know your whole situation with your family. Not even Jisung, who you’re just as close to, knows about your whole family situation.

“Yeah,” you sigh, glancing over at Chan who looks at you like he’s studying you.

“Did you want something to drink?” Chan asked.

Felix removes his hands from you. He smiles over at Chan and says, “make the girl something strong she really needs it.”

Felix walks out of the room leaving you alone with Chan. Things with Chan have always been easy. He’s someone who is kind and easy to make conversation with. You’ve grown closer to him over the last couple months. He’s an old high school friend of Felix. Out of all your friends he seems to by far have his life the most together. He works at a bank in a high up position and even has his own apartment. You’ve watched enough women at bars attempt to capture his attention, but the thing about Chan is he doesn’t seem to want theirs. He’s always seemed so driven by work you’ve never even heard of him dating anyone.

Handing you a red cup he captures your attention, “it’s pretty strong.”

“Is everything okay?”

You take a sip of the strong drink and look up at him with hooded eyes. Shrugging your shoulders you aren’t even sure how to respond to that question. Technically everything is okay, nothing has changed. You feel the exact same way you’ve always felt. You’re just doing a terrible job at hiding it. Normally you pride yourself on trying to hide away all your problems that seem to be eating away at you.

“Rough day,” you sigh.

He leans back against the counter and looks at you. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his body. Chan is very handsome and you aren’t really sure why some girl hasn’t been able to lock him down. He stands there oh so casually dressed jeans and button up shirt.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know Felix is the only one you fully let in, but I like to think we’re friends too. If you need someone to vent to, I'm here to listen.”

“I don’t need to burden someone else with all my problems.”

Chan is one of the kindest and most caring people that you’ve ever met. He’s always been like the father figure of your group of friends. You’ve seen your friends pull him aside to talk to him when they’re having problems. He’s being honest with you when he tells you he’s there to listen to you. He won't judge you for whatever you’re going through.

“You know you aren’t a burden to anyone right? You’re friends with me and all the boys. We’re all here to support you. We just want to help.”

You wished it was that easy that you could just talk about your problems and it would help them go away. You could scream from the rooftop that you’re tired of feeling like a disappointment, but it wouldn’t make the feeling go away. You could scream that you’re tired of being trapped in a life that you didn’t choose, but at the

end of the day you’ll still have to go home. Your mother is still in desperate need of your help. You couldn’t just walk away from your family, like your brother did. You know your brother didn’t leave to hurt you, but it didn’t dull the pain anymore.

“I’m okay Chan. Thank you for your offer though.”

“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says.

You aren’t sure why he wants you to go outside with him, but nod your head and follow him. He slides the glass door open that’s connected to the kitchen. You step outside and he closes the door behind you. The chilly night air feels nice against your skin as you take a seat in one of the two chairs that are sitting in front of a glass table. Chan sits next to you, placing his cup on the table. You look at the cup curious to know what he’s drinking. It’s rare that you ever see him drink. He’s the one who is always the designated driver or the one in charge of looking after your friends who tend to get a little too rambunctious when they drink.

“What are you drinking?” You ask.

“Water,” he lets out a soft chuckle. You can’t help but shake your head. It was rare you ever saw him eat or drink something that isn’t healthy.

“Did you have work today?” You attempt to make small talk with him to avoid talking about things that are too personal.

“Yeah I worked until five.”

Chan was one of the higher ups at a bank in the city. He tended to wear a suit for a living and work nine to five. He probably had his life the most together out of all your friends he followed the path he always planned on following. Your friends all had their lives together, but they all still liked to party and let loose. Sure Minho and Hyunjin were making good money working as dancers but their job wasn’t always super steady. Felix and Jeongin both worked for a tech company that just started up. Seungmin is a teacher. Jisung also worked as a publisher, and Changbin was working as sound technician at a record label. Literally all your friends have their lives more together than you. You dropped out of college to help at home, and you work a retail job barely getting by.

“Did you work today?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no I had to ask for the day off to see my dad.” You tense up just mentioning your dad. You don’t mean to, it’s just a force of habit.

“You didn’t want to come over tonight did you?” He asks as he brings his cup up to his lips. He takes a drink and watches you.

You weren’t sure if you should answer him honestly. Part of you wanted to stay home and take a shower and just attempt to push away the negative thoughts that seem to be eating away at you. You only came over to escape the trapped feeling of being at home.

“I need to get out of my house,” a heavy sigh passes your lips.

“Are you okay?” He reaches over and rests his warm hand on top of yours. There’s something comforting about his touch.

An almost sarcastic laugh passes your lips, “my grandma didn’t know who I was when I came home today.”

His eyes grow wide as he stares at you. He purses his lips together as he stares at you attempting to figure out what he should say to you. He knows that he can’t say sorry to hear that. He knows nobody fully understands what you’re going through. He only knows about your grandma because Felix told him one day. Felix was worried about you because he hadn’t heard from you in two days. In a panic Felix let him know about the stress you were under at home. Felix swore him to secrecy telling him that you couldn’t know that he knows. That you didn’t want everyone knowing about your problems.

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m really sorry you have to go through that. That must be heartbreaking to experience,” his hand remains on yours as his dark eyes stay on you.

Closing your eyes you push back your tears that are trying so hard to fall. You’ve had a rough day and you don’t want to cry, but the overwhelming weight of the world seems to be resting on your shoulders.

“It fucking sucks,” you shake your head.

“Well my offer still stands if you ever need to talk about it. I'm here for you. You also know that Felix and Jisung would go to the ends of the world for you.”

Felix constantly told you that he was there for you. You couldn’t even count the number of times Felix came over to your house and just laid in bed with you listening to you cry about your problems. Felix is your rock. He’s been there through hell and back holding your hand. Jisung would also be there for you if you would fully let him in. He knows details of your problems, but he’s not the one you call when you’re crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You need to know if he’s doing this just because he is pitying you.

“Because you’re a good person, and you don’t need to feel alone,” his thumb brushes across your skin in a calming motion.

“I don’t feel alone. I have Felix,” it was a lie. You felt lonely all the time. You couldn’t seem to fill the empty hole in your chest.

“You can have more people than just Felix that care about you. All seven of those guys in the house care about you. I even care about you. I can see that you’re hurting, and you can put on a fake smile and try to act happy in front of all of us, but you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be sad, and if someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to turn off those emotions,” his voice is so calming as he speaks to you. He’s saying things to you that you’ve been needing to hear for a long time. Some of the things he’s saying Felix has said to you as well, but for some reason they just feel different coming from Chan.

“I don’t want to be fake happy anymore.” You wanted nothing more in the world to feel real happiness. You wanted that feeling of being a disappointment to fade away.

“Let more people in then.”

The air between you feels thick as you stare at each other. There’s something between you and you can’t seem to put your finger on it.

“What happens if I let you in?” You take a deep breath keeping your eyes locked on him.

“Then I’ll be there for you. I can be there for you just like Felix.”

“You’ll get tired of hearing about my problems.” You knew Felix was probably tired of listening to you cry.

“Believe me I won’t.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, you need to step away from this. This all feels too overwhelming. Chan removes his hand from the top of yours, noticing your change in demeanor.

“I need some water,” you quickly stand up.

He walks over and opens the sliding door holding it open for you. You walk inside heading straight to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He stands in the kitchen watching you.

“I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you,” he walks closer to you.

“I had a weird day. This isn’t because of you,” you don’t want him to know that you were freaking over letting your walls down around him.

You stand there alone for a long moment. Seungmin walks in letting his presence be known singing a random song loudly. Your eyes snap over to your loud friend hoping he will relieve some of the tension that has formed between you and Chan.

Seungmin’s eyes bounce between the two of you, stopping right by both of you. “YN you’re so tense when was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin speaks, putting his hand on your shoulders and shaking you. Seungmin has never been the best at using the filter between his brain and his mouth. Your cheek burn with embarrassment as your eyes bounce between Seungmin and Chan. Chan is wearing an apologetic look while Seungmin looks all too proud that he’s embarrassed you.

“Seungmin you don’t get to ask me that,” you practically shout, feeling utterly embarrassed. You didn’t want to discuss your sex life with Seungmin of all people. He’s got by far the biggest mouth out of all your friends.

“It’s been awhile if you won’t answer,” he barks out a laugh and looks toward Chan who is blushing. “Chan you also look super tense. When was the last time you got laid?” Seungmin has realized that he can make both of you feel incredibly awkward with zero effort. One of Seungmin 's favorite pastimes is embarrassing his friends.

“Seungmin, knock it off,” Chan responded, completely deadpan.

“Maybe you two should have sex and you can both relax for once,�� Seungmin smiles, stepping away from you.

“Well that was beyond awkward,” you respond.

“I mean maybe you two should bang. Maybe both of you could actually have fun for once,” was the last thing he said before walking out of the kitchen.

You’re left standing there with just Chan who seems to be having an issue with making eye contact with you. Pushing your lips together you look at him attempting to even figure out what exactly you should say. Seungmin wasn’t wrong about you probably need to have sex. You’d been so stressed you couldn’t even remember the last time you were intimate with someone. Hell the last time you kissed someone was Felix during a drunken game of truth or dare on his birthday. During that drunken mess of a night you were dared to either kiss him or Seungmin and Felix was the safe bet being your best friend.

Chan nervously scratches his neck and looks up at you finally.

“I take it’s been a while for you too?” He finally speaks.

Talking about sex has always made you feel slightly awkward. You’ve never been a person who would openly share details of your sex life.

“Yeah probably too long,” sighing as you lean against the counter across from Chan.

“If it makes you feel any better I’m in the same boat. It’s been a while.”

You aren’t sure what possessive you to say it but without thinking you say, “maybe Seungmin right, maybe I do need to have sex. I’ve been so stressed with everything.”

Chan cocks his eyebrow and stares at you looking caught off guard. He audibly swallows, not expecting you to agree with his younger friend. In the whole time he’s known you, Chan doesn’t think he’s ever heard you mention anything to do with sex. You had this air of innocence to you. He was well aware you weren’t a virgin, he’s heard you talk about your ex who strung you along off and on for six years. There was just something so innocent about you that the topic of sex made you blush and feel awkward.

“Who would you sleep with?” he’s not sure why he asks. He knows damn well it’s none of his business. He knows no matter who you say he’s not going to like the answer. He doesn’t like the idea of you sleeping with anyone.

Shrugging your shoulder you realize you don’t exactly have men lining up the block to have sex with you. You could try those dating apps people use to hook up, or maybe a friend. You trusted all the boys but you knew certain ones would complicate your life. Felix specifically was off limits, he’s your best friend and you couldn’t do anything to ruin that. Changbin crosses your mind for a small moment. He’s extremely handsome and charming and has even flirted with you before.

“I don’t know,” you finally respond.

As Chan watches you can tell you seem to have a million things going through your mind. He wants to offer up his services but he’s not exactly sure how you would take his offer. He couldn’t lie to himself, he's always been attracted to you, and he’s enjoyed getting to know you. He also appreciates that you seem to be letting your walls down around him.

“If I ask you something can you promise not to slap me?”

You nod not exactly sure what he could possibly ask you.

“Would you be willing to have sex with me?” His heart races as he stares at you trying his hardest to judge your reaction.

You look at him completely dumbfounded. You aren’t even sure if you heard him correctly. Bang Chan is one of the most handsome men you have ever laid eyes on. He’s also got the body of a Greek god, and he just asked if you would be willing to have sex with him. You blink a handful of times attempting to process his question.

“You want to have sex with me?” you blurt out.

He nods and gives you an innocent smile, “yeah.”

“Oh,” you stammer over that simple word. Your mind is still trying to process that Chan actually wants you.

He pushes himself off the counter and looks at you with a guilt ridden face, “you can totally say no. I’m sorry for making this weird.”

He looks cute and completely flustered. Reaching you rest your hand on his arm, “if you’re sure you want to. I would like to relieve some stress with you.”

“Oh,” he opened his mouth and stared at you, completely shocked that you agreed. He didn’t actually have a plan of action if you agreed. He thought for sure you were going to shut him down without even thinking twice.

“Did you want to do it tonight?” You felt so weird asking him if he wanted to leave to have sex. This whole situation was completely uncharted for you.

He nods and gives you an awkward smile, “yeah we can go to my place if you want.”

“Can we please head out now?” You want to leave as soon as you can. You know you should stay and talk to Felix some more, but he seems to be giving you space to talk to Chan.

“Yeah I can drive us.”

“Let me say goodbye to Felix.”

You walk off to the living room where you find your best friend talking to Jeongin. You tap his shoulder and he turns to face you.

“Chan is gonna take me home.” You decide to spare the details that you’re leaving with him to have sex. You know out of all your friends Felix won’t judge you, but he might be concerned about your feelings.

Leaning forward he pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips to the top of your head before whispering that he’ll see you tomorrow.

You wave goodbye to the rest of the group before meeting Chan at the door. He holds the door open and as soon as it shuts behind him he ever so slowly reaches down, taking your hand in his. A spark goes across your skin as he holds your hand tight. He leads you down to the parking garage below the building and holds your door open as you slide inside. He gets in and starts the car. He turns the radio on to give you some background noise.

You drive in silent with nothing but the hum of the radio for five minutes before you break the silence between you.

You clear your throat catching his attention. He glances over at you and gives you a soft smile.

“So, I’ve never done anything like this. Like I’ve had sex outside of a relationship, but never with a friend,” you’re rambling but you really can’t help it.

“I haven’t either,” he reaches over resting his hand on your thigh.

“So we’re both nervous?” You look over at him trying to read his expression.

“Yeah I’m nervous too.” It’s reassuring to know he feels the same way you do.

Pulling into the parking garage. He shuts the car off and gives you a smile before getting out of the car. You take a deep breath before unbuckling your seatbelt. Hoping out of his car you find home waiting for you with your hand out. You lace your fingers with his without giving it a second thought.

Chan felt like a nervous teenager as he held your hand. This whole situation was something he’s never done before. He has a million thoughts going through his mind as he holds your hand leading you towards his apartment. He has one mission tonight, and that’s to make you forget your problems for a little while. He wants to make you feel good and to relieve all the stress that’s built up.

Entering his apartment he releases your hand as he gives you a minute to look around and take in your surroundings. You’ve only been to his place twice and both times you were with Felix and you weren’t there very long. His apartment is pretty large and has a minimalist aesthetic to it. You’ve heard Chan talk about how much he hates decorating. Stopping in his living room in front of his black leather couch. Chan follows you into the living room. Staring at you, he takes a deep breath. You’ve never done this before. You’ve never agreed to just have casual sex with a friend. You fidget with the bottom of your sweater. You’re not sure who is supposed to make the first move. How exactly was this supposed to work?

“We don’t have to do this,” he says awkwardly. He can’t tell how nervous you are.

“I want this. I haven’t had sex in too long and I feel like it will help relieve some stress.”

He steps closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s been pretty long for me too.”

“You know you have girls always trying to get with you right?” You try not to laugh thinking about all the girls who attempt to flirt with him. You’ve seen too many girls attempt to get his attention when you go out with your friends.

Shrugging he says, “I don’t feel like having sex with random girls.”

You can’t seem to ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach that’s bubbling. Looking up at Chan you notice his cheeks are flushed slightly. He must be as nervous as you. This whole situation is so strange, never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be going over to Chan to have sex with him. The fact that Seungmin dumb comment about you needing to get laid led to you riding over to Chan apartment is crazy.

“How do we even start this?” you felt like an awkward teen about to lose your virginity.

“We could start by kissing,” he steps closer to you.

Nodding your head you agree that kissing would be a good place to start this. Maybe that would help calm your nerves.

He rests his hand on your cheek ever so gently and stares into your eyes. He licks his bottom lip before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. A warm feeling spread through your body as your lips moved together. One of his hands stayed on your cheek while the other gripped your hip holding you close. The whole time your lips moved together you couldn’t help but overthink everything. You were enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours, but you wondered if he was enjoying it too.

With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, “stop over thinking everything.”

Your eyes snap open and you step back from him. You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure of what to even say.

“Stop overthinking everything. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I’m going to make it my mission to force you to relax tonight,” he leans in to press his lips to your jaw. He places a trail of gentle nips across your skin.

“Okay.”

He presses his lips to yours again and you relax against his touch. His hands run up and down your sides as your lips dance. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him close to you. Opening your mouth he slides his tongue against yours.

He pulls away wearing a smile. His hands reach for the end of your sweater. He pauses while he waits for your consent. You nod your head silently.

He removes all your clothes leaving you naked in front of him. You stand there watching as he removes his own clothes.

His body is something to be admired. He has probably the best abs you’ve ever seen. Without even thinking you lean forward and run your fingers across his tone stomach. He watches you intently. He wants this whole night to be about helping you find a release. He wants you to enjoy yourself.

Silently he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands run up your thighs. He moves your thighs so he’s sitting between your legs. His eyes are locked on your already wet core. He’s managed to get you worked up with just the idea of what is going to happen and by the heated kiss you shared.

He runs two fingers through your folds as he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. You whimper in anticipation. His thumb brushes your clit for a moment before he moves his fingers to your entrance. He thrust his finger into your tight wall. His tongue laps at your clit as he pumps one finger inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he groans against your core. He dips another finger in you helping stretch you out. He curls his fingers inside you, touching just the right area. You tangle your fingers in his hair. Closing your eyes you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. You’re so close to finding your release.

“Chh… Chan I’m so… close,” you’re a complete whimpering mess.

He picks up his pace knowing you’re so close. He doesn’t stop until you find your release. The warm wave washes over you. You cry out his name loudly. He pulls away sitting on his hunches looking up at you with a proud smile.

“That was amazing,” you say with your chest rising and falling quickly.

He stands up and leans forward to kiss you. You taste yourself on your lips and you can’t lie it turns you on. Your eyes travel down his body to see that he’s already extremely hard and you haven’t even touched him.

“Let me get a condom.”

He jogs off to his bedroom and comes back rolling the rubber down his hardened length. He stops in front of you and leans in for another kiss. You wished that all those months ago you would have dared to kiss him. You can’t believe you’ve gone this far in your life never knowing the feel of Chan’s lips against yours.

“Can you bend over the back of the couch?” He pulls away asking.

You nod and look over at the leather couch. You follow his lead and walk over to the couch. Bending you over the couch he kissed down your spine. His hand grip your hips tightly. You take a deep breath and look over at your shoulder to see his lust filled eyes staring at you.

“Are you ready?” He grinds his hips against yours slowly.

“Yeah.”

He slides his length between your folds before pushing into you extremely slowly. His hands never leave your hips as he pushes his way in. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You grip the back of the couch as a gasp passes your lips. He stills is giving you time to adjust.

His chest is rising and falling as he tries to remain calm. “You’re really tight,'' he says with baited breath.

It’s probably been too long since you had sex and you know you need to relax more. “Spread your legs a little,” he puts his foot next to one of yours and gently nudges it. You silently follow his command. One of his hands leaves your hips and he slowly drags it down your spine. His touch feels like electricity running through your veins.

“Sweetheart just relax,” his voice is low and calming.

Taking a deep breath you try your hardest to relax. Sex is supposed to be fun. You aren’t supposed to stress about the problems in your life while probably the most handsome man you’ll ever meet is literally inside you. You nod your head and rest your face against the cool leather sofa.

His hand slowly rubs your back helping you relax. “Did you want to stop? I’m not going to be upset if you want to walk now or at any time during this.”

Lifting your head you look over your shoulder with a shocked look on your face. “I want this. I’m trying to stop overthinking everything,” you explained.

“Can I move?”

“Yes please.”

He leans forward kissing your shoulder before he pulls his hips back. Be pushed back into you, setting a slow pace. With each thrust he fills you completely. You can’t help the low whimpers that pass your lips with each roll of his hips.

The room is filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin, and his low moans, and your soft whimpers. His hands are back to gripping your hips. Everytime he thrust into you, he pushed away the thoughts of the outside world. You try your hardest to get lost in his touch. His pace picks up slowly. His grip on you never falters. Your name has never sounded as beautiful as it does being moaned by him. Dropping your face into the couch you moan his name.

He leans over your body, having one of his hands at your core. His fingers quickly find your swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes it quickly as he’s helping you chase your release.

“Chan,” you whine.

Wet kisses are being placed across the back of your neck. You can’t hold your eyes open, the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightens, almost becoming too much to handle.

He snaps his hips into yours over and over again. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’ve been pushed up against this couch, but you won’t complain. Nobody has ever made you feel the way Chan is. He seems to know exactly how your body ticks. His fingers don’t leave your clit as he whispers encouraging words into your ear.

“Sweetheart, you can go ahead and cum for me.”

You’ve never wanted to come so badly in your life. Pushing your hips up angling them just right Chan is hitting a new area that causes a loud gasp to pass your lips.

“Chan,” you whimper, reaching back for his hand. You need to hold on to him desperately as you’re so close to finding your release.

“I want to see you when you come, pretty,” he says, stalling in you.

Your eyes grow wide confused on why he’s stopped moving. He pulls out of you and reaches out for you. He picks you up and places you on the couch. Laying there on his couch you watch as he moves so he’s hovering over you. He settles between your legs and pushes into you.

“You’re so pretty. I want to see your pretty face when you cum,” his sweet words.

“Chan,” you whimper.

One hand grips his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting on yours. His pretty lips are parted and low moans pass his lips.

“Kiss me,” you say. You desperately want to feel his lips on yours. His lips crashed against your. The kiss is sloppy and lust filled but you can’t seem to get enough.

Your legs wrap around his waist holding him close. His thrust have slowed as your lips move together.

“Just let go,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

His command is all that it takes to push you over the edge. The warmth spreads throughout your body as your walls pull on him. You moan into his lips. Your body feels like a live wire. He rolls his hips into you over and over before finally finding his own release.

He stills with his chest rising and falling. He leans forward pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around his back holding him close as he lays on top of you for a moment. His body weight gives you a sense of comfort. Laying there with Chan in your arms this is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a long time.

He lifts himself up and looks down at you. He pushes away your hair that’s stuck to your face.

“Sorry if I was crushing you.”

A soft laugh passes your lips. He’s so sweet and even post sex he’s still so caring.

“You aren’t crushing me,” you reach up resting your hand on his strong jaw.

He pulls away from you and stands up. You can’t help but watch his naked body walk away to toss his used condom. He comes back to you not even seeming slightly embarrassed that he’s strutting around naked. That probably has to do with his beautiful body, and his amazing abs.

Sitting up you pull your legs into your chest feeling suddenly weird that you're just sitting on the couch completely naked. He sits down on the couch next to you and rests his hand on your knee. He smiles before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a sweet kiss. It was the exact opposit of the last lust fueled kiss you shared.

“You’re so pretty,” he rested his nose against yours.

“Chan, thank you.”

“Did you enjoy it,” you couldn’t believe that he was asking if you just enjoyed the best sex you’ve ever experienced.

You let out a little laugh and nod your head.

“Is it awkward if I ask you to stay the night? I don’t see this as a onel night stand type thing. I would like to spend more time with you.”

He’s a little nervous that you will say no. Chan wants to get to know you even more. He wants you to let your walls down around him. He also just wants your company.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” You couldn’t believe he was asking you to stay.

“Yeah of course I want you to stay.”

Neither of you bother to put any clothes on. Chan takes your hand and leads you off to his room. His bedroom is somewhere you’ve never seen before. The walls are a bright white and he has a queen size bed under a window that looks out onto the city. He pulls his curtains closed not seeming to care that he’s naked. You crawl onto his bed and pull the blankets back. He lays down next to you and wastes no time pulling you close to his body. Your head rests on his chest as he holds you close. In all your life you had only slept in a man's bed a handful of times. All your ex boyfriends and flames never seemed to hold you like Chan is though.

“Did that help relieve some of your stress?” he asked softly.

“Yeah it did.”

Just being around Chan seems to relax you. This is the first time in the longest time you feel at ease. You aren’t worried about everything going on. You know tomorrow will be a stressful day when your mom asks about where you were overnight, but right now you don’t have to worry about that.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“I told you I want to be here for you, and I’ll be here for you mentally and physically,” his hand rubs your side. “I have tomorrow off. Did you maybe want to get lunch together and hang out?”

You literally spent the whole time you were at Felix’s together and then left with him to have sex. Chan seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you can’t complain. It feels nice to finally be wanted.

“I’ll have to go home and change and check in with my mom, but yeah I’ll get lunch with you.”

A night spent in Chan’s arms is one of the best night's sleep you've gotten in a long time.

*

Bright morning light shining through the thin curtains woke you up. A yawn passes your lips as you stretch out your sore body. The bed feels cold next to you. You look over to see Chan isn’t in bed. A panicked feeling starts in your chest. Maybe this was a sign that he wanted you to leave. Hoping out of bed quickly you look around the room realizing you walked into his room naked. Looking on the dresser you see a pile of your clothes neatly folded. Chan must have gathered your clothes this morning. Walking towards the dresser you see the master bathroom door is shut with the light peaking out from the bottom. You aren’t sure if Chan is in there but you don’t want to find out. You quickly put your bra and underwear on. As you start pulling on your legging the bathroom door opens and Chan walks out a pair of boxer briefs while he runs a towel through his damp hair. The moment his eyes lock on you, you completely freeze like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Why do you look like you’re running away?” He asks, tossing his towel in the hamper next to the door.

“I thought you would want me to leave,” you say awkwardly.

“Why would I want you to leave?” Chan doesn’t understand what he did or said that could possibly make you think he wanted you to leave.

“I don’t know.”

“I planned on us grabbing lunch. I actually wanted to spend more time with you.” He wasn’t lying to you yesterday when he said he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard by him actually wanting to spend time with you.

He steps towards you stopping right in front of you. He places his hand right under your chin lifting it so you’re looking into his dark eyes. He licks his bottom lip before saying, “you can relax around me. You don’t have to try to act happy. Let your walls down and try to trust me.” He so desperately wants for you to trust him like you do Felix.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You aren’t sure of what to say to him. Leaning down he presses his lips softly to your forehead.

“Did you maybe want some coffee before you run away from me?”

You nod your head silently.

Stepping away from you Chan reaches into his dresser and pulls out a pair of jeans and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother putting a shirt on. You take this time to pull back on your sweater so you aren’t standing around in your bra and a pair of leggings. He takes your hand ever so casually and leads you out into the kitchen. You can’t help but smile that he’s already made coffee.

Reaching into the cupboard he pulls out two coffee cups. He sits down on the counter in front of you. He walks over to the fridge pulling out a carton of cream. Handing it to you, you pour a little into your coffee before handing it back.

There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sip on your coffee. There’s something about being around Chan that’s comforting.

Holding his cup close to his chest he watches you carefully. You seem more at ease and it makes him happy.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks.

“How does ramen sound?” you ask, knowing there are a million places near to get good ramen.

“Sounds good to me.”

After finishing your cup of coffee you follow Chan back to his room so he can get dressed. Sitting on his bed you scroll through your phone to see a text from your mom and one from Felix.

Your moms text read, “I’m assuming you stayed at Felix.”

While Felix read, “were you okay after last night?” Your best friend knows you well and could tell that you had a rough day.

You send him a quick message saying that you’re okay that talking to Chan helped a lot.

Chan stood in front of you in a sweater with his tight jeans and pair of vans. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Once again he takes your hand leading you out of his apartment.

Standing in front of his motorcycle you’re at a loss for words. You were well aware he owned a motorcycle, but you hadn’t ever ridden on it. He holds his spare helmet out for you sporting a grin.

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle,” you say.

“Are you okay if we take this?” He’s unsure if this is a good idea. You seem so unsure staring at his motorcycle.

“Okay we can take this,” you reach out to take the helmet. He steps closer to you and helps up on your helmet and buckles it.

He gets on the motorcycle and reaches his hand out signaling for him to join him. Climbing on you wastes no time wrapping your arms around him. He starts the bike and heads out onto the main road. You hold on to him tightly.

There’s something about the way you hold him that makes his heart flutter a little. For the longest he wished he could gain your trust. He couldn’t help but be jealous of your friendship you shared with Felix. Sure you and Chan had always been friends, but you always had a wall up around him. You never fully let anyone in other than Felix.

Pulling up to your house, shut the motorcycle off and you quickly climb off.

“Did you want me to wait here?” Chan asks.

Your stomach twists at the idea of having to explain to your grandma who Chan is.

“Yes please if you don’t mind. My grandmother isn’t great with people she doesn’t know.”

“Okay that’s fine. I’ll be here, take your time,” he takes the helmet you had been wearing.

Rushing into the house you find your mom standing in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee.

“YN are you okay?” She asks, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Yeah.”

She knits her eyebrows together, studying you, “why are you rushing.”

“My friend is taking me out to lunch,” you say.

“Who?” She’s being nosy like she normally is.

“Chan.”

Her eyebrow raises as she slowly smiles, “the handsome man that works at the bank?”

Of course your mom remembers Chan's job, and that he’s attractive.

“Yes.”

“Well have fun,” she smiles before taking another sip of her coffee.

Rushing off to your room you start stripping away your clothes. You toss your dirty clothes in your hamper before grabbing a pair of jeans and tugging them on. Reaching into your dresser you pull out a black and white sweater. Heading off to the bathroom you brush your teeth and wash your face.

You practically run out of the house attempting to avoid your mom. Walking outside you find Chan leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

He looks up and smiles at you. Handing you a helmet you put it on and he helps you buckle it.

Crawling onto the back of the bike you wrap your arms around him holding your body close to his. He starts driving down the street and you suddenly feel so relaxed as you hold him. There’s something about him that is just so comforting to you.

Arriving at one of your favorite ramen places Chan turns off his bike and he helps you off. He takes your hand immediately. Chan knows you’re shy and a little more guarded, but he doesn’t give you a chance to put up a wall. He holds your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Walking up to the table he holds out your chair for you. This suddenly feels like a date and you get a nervous feeling in your stomach. You aren’t sure why you get so nervous at the thought of being on a date with Chan. He’s literally the most perfect man you’ve ever met, and you’ve already had sex with him. Yet you can’t seem to push away this nervous feeling.

“Why do you want to spend time with me?” you ask after ordering.

Tilting his head he knits his eyebrows together, “because I like spending time with you. I know it seems like it’s coming out of left field, but YN I like you.”

You can’t believe he just said he liked you. You blink rapidly and just stare at them. How do you even respond to him?

“You like me?”

A half smile forms on his lips, “you’re a beautiful girl, you’re kind, and you have an amazing heart.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not asking you to suddenly be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with you, I want to be your friend. I want to be someone you feel like you can trust enough to talk to about the things you’re going through,” reaching out he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb across the palm of your hand. His touch instantly relaxed you.

“Chan, I'm a mess. I’m not easy to be with. I feel bad Felix has to deal with me half the time.”

He squeezes your hand gently, “stop, I’m not asking you to give me anything here. I’ll just be your friend if anything, but I want you to know how I feel.”

Before you can say anything the waiter walks over and puts your bowls of ramen on the table in front of you.

Staring at the steaming bowl of soup you’re still trying to process everything Chan just said to you.

“Please say something,” he says.

“I want to get to know you more. I also want to spend more time with you.”

A large smile spreads across his face as he grabs a pair of chopsticks.

He spends the rest of lunch answering questions about himself. In the last twenty-four hours you’ve talked about yourself enough. You want to know more about the man who seems extremely interested in spending more time with you.

When the waiter brings over the check Chan hands him this card without even looking at the check. You tell him thank you. You didn’t expect him to pay for you.

Arriving at your house you hop off the bike, and before you can walk away Chan reaches out and grabs your wrist. He turns you so you're facing him. He raises his eyebrow and tugs you closer to him.

“I’m serious about wanting to spend time with you,” he knows he is putting himself on the line right now, but he knows he needs to. “Please give me a shot here. Let me be there for you.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

He leans in close to you and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. You can help but smile as he pulls away.

“I’ll text you.”

He rides off and you’re left with your head feeling as if it’s swimming. The overwhelming feeling that he’s interested in you makes your head spin. You aren’t sure why anyone as perfect as him could be interested in you.

Everything’s a blur as you walk into your room you lay down staring at the ceiling. Chan sweet words play over and over in your ears. Closing your eyes you could picture his soft smile.

You aren’t sure how long you were laying there when your door opened. Looking at the door you find Felix standing in your room.

Throwing himself onto your queen size bed you can’t help but smile at Felix. His eyes are narrowed in on you.

“So what’s going on with Chan?” He didn’t bother asking anything else. He just jumped straight to the point.

Glancing at him from the corners of your eyes you find him staring at you.

“Nothing,” you lied. There was clearing something going on with Chan, but you just weren’t exactly sure.

“Then why didn’t you come home last night?” He smirks at you. It’s extremely clear he knows you were with Chan.

“Lee Felix, what do you know?” Sitting up quickly you grab a pillow holding it on your lap.

“Well your mother asked me when I walked in how our sleepover was. Like we’re teenagers again.”

Your eyes grow wide at the fact your mother asked Felix about you staying over.

“Please tell me you lied to her.”

He reaches up grabbing the pillow from your lap, “of course I lied.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you stay at Chan last night?”

Biting your lip you contemplate lying. You don’t want him asking details about what happened, but you can’t lie to him.

“Yeah I stayed with him.”

“What happened there?” he sits up.

“Lix,” a heavy sigh passes your lips. You know you can’t hide the details from him anymore.

“Just tell me. I’m not gonna judge you,” he’s sitting on your bed with his legs crossed.

“We had sex,” you sigh.

“I knew it,” he almost shouts.

Shaking your head you try to push away your embarrassment. You never shared anything about your sex life.

“How did that even happen?” Felix knew that you were friends, but he didn’t know that you were nearly close enough with Chan to have sex with him.

“We spent the whole night just talking and stupid Seungmin made comments about us needing to get laid and somehow it got us having sex to relieve some stress,” you ramble on quickly.

He stares at you blinking and processes your statement. A smile tugs on his lips. Felix knows that Chan is a good guy and he won’t do anything to hurt you.

“Please say something,” you say softly, pulling your legs into your chest.

“I think you should give Chan a chance. He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m a mess,” your eyes start to tear up.

“Give him a chance,” he puts his hand on your knee and looks into your eyes.

“I’ll try,” you say softly.

You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on your bed with your best friend. You move away from the subject of Chan which you’re thankful for. Eventually Felix convinces you to watch a movie with him. Your mom peaks her head asking Felix to stay for dinner. Your mother has loved Felix from the moment you met. Anytime Felix comes over to your mom to ask him to stay for dinner. Your grandmother also seems to love him. Even though she can’t always remember his name. She does remember she loves him. He always sits on the couch and will talk to her and tell her cute jokes. There’s a reason you’ve let your walls down around Felix. He’s just always seemed to be there by your side. You hope soon you can let your walls down around Chan as well.

Regarding taglist:

If you aren’t interacting with my writing outside of liking the new post I’m gonna have to remove your name from the taglist. You will also be removed if I try to tag you and your blog is listed as "invisible". If you've changed your URL and didn't let me know I will also be removing your name. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but my interactions outside or likes feels like it’s nonexistent right now. All of my taglist are still open though. If you request to be added to one via this form, I kindly ask for interactions in the form and feedback and reblogs. To be quite honest, those really encourage my writing.

#stray kids #my writing #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan imagine #rose colored boy #bang chan angst

[pepsiconcoction]

Bathroom Breakdown | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

tags: insecurity, comfort, fluff, chan is so sweet y'all, minor explicit language

requested? nope, this was all me baybee!

wc: 1,450

If you had to say, getting in your own head was probably your strongest skill. You do it a lot, more than most people, but the funniest thing is, you don’t even realise you’re doing it half of the time. The thoughts in your head are so common that you truly believe them now, they’re just facts!

The recent topic of discussion inside your brain has been your love life. Specifically, your wonderful boyfriend, Chan. He really is wonderful, he’s kind, generous, funny, smart, and handsome as hell. You consider yourself lucky to be his girlfriend for the past six months. Insecurity has been slowly eating you recently, gnawing at you in the back of your head. You know everything that it’s saying is wrong, and that he loves you, and he’s lucky to have you too, but there’s just something convincing you he’s lying, that one day he is going to turn around and decide to leave.

Sniffling, you fold up a wad of toilet paper and bring it to your face, wiping your eyes one last time. You throw it into the toilet from your place on the cold tile floor and grab onto the edge of the sink to help hoist yourself up. You see your reflection in the mirror and let out a long, shaky breath. You were seemingly done crying, using the last 45 minutes as a good release, and your legs wobbled as you stood. 

You turned on the tap, feeling the cool water on your fingers. Gathering some water in your hands, you bring the coolness up to your face, gently pressing your face, and massaging around your eyes, attempting to wrangle the puffiness of your post-sob face. The cold water was refreshing and helped to bring you back to reality.

A few minutes later you were ready to face the world again, the world inside your apartment at least. Unlocking the bathroom door, you take one final deep breath. You swing the door open and nearly scream. There, leaning against the wall opposite, is Chan. 

“Jesus Christ.” You clutch your chest.

“Sorry, I did text you but,” he trails off. Oh, right. You didn’t have your phone on you, you had left it in the living room.

“Oh, sorry, yeah, it’s in the other room. How long have you been here?” You ask. He must have let himself in with the spare key you had given him.

“Uh, not long, maybe 15 minutes?” He stands up, awkwardly. You think he’s lying to save you the embarrassment.

“Oh,” you say, neither of you really knowing where to go with this.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Are you okay?”

You speak at the same time. Your eyes widen at his question, and you think for a second that you look like a deer in headlights.

“Ah, yeah, I got a free evening so thought I’d come over,” he explains. “But maybe I should’ve waited for a response.”

“No it’s okay, I was just, thinking too much.” You don’t know what to say. He opens his arms and you fall into them, wrapping around you gently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks softly into your hair.

“I think I’d cry again.”

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to cry.”

You take a deep breath hearing his words and you feel everything coming back.

“Hey, let’s get you somewhere comfy first, sofa or bed?” 

“Bed,” you mumble into his chest. He’s wearing a soft, black hoodie that smells just like him, the scent of his cologne faintly clinging to the material. With ease, he guides you to your bedroom, and you get into the safety of your covers. He excuses himself for a second, and leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with a few things. Your phone is one of them, your heart crying a little as you read his texts from earlier on the lock screen. He climbs into bed next to you and gets comfy. You keep him at a distance, thinking it would be better to put space between yourself. He insists on at least holding your hand.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

“I’m just feeling insecure. It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I don’t deserve any of this.” You begin to put it into words.

“This?” he asks, gently.

“You, Chan. I don’t deserve you, and I know I do, I know you’ll say I do, but my brain is so good at convincing me, and I don’t know how to get her to shut up. Like, I look in the mirror and I don’t understand why you love me, like look at you, you’re perfect, I’m not.” You see his eyebrows furrow but you don’t give him a chance to say anything.

“I just feel so fundamentally unlovable, which is stupid, but there’s just something in my head. And I’m so scared, I’m scared that I let you in fully, and get so comfortable with you, and one day you decide I’m too much, or not enough, or too weird, or too something, and you leave me for some stupid or shallow reason that I was a fool to think wouldn’t happen.” The tears are flowing now, not as hard as before but you wipe at them. You’re no longer looking at Chan, but down at your hands where your fingers are pulling threads from the bed sheets. 

“So I guess my head has just decided that you’re better off without me, and I want  to disagree so badly, but she’s so fucking convincing, Chan, I’m sorry.” You wipe at your tears roughly, but Chan quickly replaces your hands with his own, taking your face in his hands gently. His thumbs are wiping at the tears still slowly falling.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.” You do as he says, and your tears begin to slow down even more. 

“Can I say something?” Chan says after a minute. You nod, preparing for the worst.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes look up and meet his, a look of sincerity in his own glassy eyes.

“I could never leave you, not as easy as you seem to think. No part of you could be too much or too little, or too anything for me. I love you. I love all of you. I love the parts of you I’ve seen, and I can’t wait to see the parts I haven’t seen yet so that I can love them too. I know this isn’t easy, I feel the same things sometimes, but you just have to believe me, and if you ever doubt me, I will fight you.” He ends with a chuckle. 

“Okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair gently. You nod, smiling.

“Also, who are you to decide who I love, hm?” he asks.

“An idiot,” you mumble, making him chuckle.

“I decide who I love, got it? I am choosing to love you.”

You nod your head, utterly defeated, and fall into his chest. He catches you swiftly, rubbing your back with one hand and petting your hair with the other. After a few minutes, you pop your head up to look at him. He looks at you questioningly.

“Be honest, how long were you here before I came out of the bathroom?”

“Oh, I, uh, think I heard most of it,” he says sheepishly. You groan, burying your face into his chest once more. You feel him laugh more than you hear it. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“I don’t know…” you trail off. “Loving me? Letting me cry? Being here? Something like that.” You play with one of his hoodie strings, avoiding his intense stare.

“Something like that,” he repeats quietly, half chuckling at your words. “Of course, I'd do all those things, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, finally looking up at him. He’s smiling at you, eyes soft. You lean up and press a kiss to his soft lips. He accepts it, indulging you for a few seconds until he pulls back. You’re about to pout but he catches you off guard by planting kiss after kiss on your face. Your cheeks, nose, forehead, and finally your mouth once more. You’re giggling by the time he’s done, and he pulls back, eyes sparkling. 

“Feeling any better?” he asks.

“No, I think I need one more.” You giggle up at him. He rolls his eyes but leans down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that the both of you are smiling into. The kiss feels right, and for the first time in a little while, the voice in the back of your head is quiet.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lethallyprotected

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz fluff #bang chan #chris bang #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #skz scenarios #skz chan #skz smut #skz x you #skz chan x reader #skz chan imagines #skz chan scenarios

[eliluvschan]

My Eternity

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 2.098

warnings: cutie channie explaining his relationship & like one curse word?

genre: fluff

a/n: when i tell you i've never had a boyfriend would you believe me? lmaoo i blame the 4am thoughts for this one. took me 4 hours to write this with like 7 mental breakdowns through? i was listening to WOW and i reeeaally wanted to add Jisung's; jeogiyo noona hokshi namjachingu isseoyo? but rlly didn't know how lmao + i'm addicted to this small lettertype so imma use it from now on ;) okay now i'll let you go read. enjoooooy ♡

i’ve known you ever since the day when we were kids.

- we’ve been neighbours since childhood. you moved to my hometown, went to my class and blended in. everyone liked you, how could i not?

the happiest moment to ever exist.

- i was always happy when you sat beside me and my friends, not wanting to make friends with the others in high school.

check my bucket list, oh, you were on the list.

- before i met you, i didn’t have a bucket list. you just kind of became my best friend and we made a bucket list together. i never showed you mine, cause you were on the list.

i’m living the dream, somebody heard my wish.

- it has always been my dream to have someone like you by my side, so understanding, so beautiful with such an amazing soul. my wish has been heard and i’ve been the happiest ever since.

call out your name.

- my Y/nnie, princess, little one, baby girl, sweetheart, darling, love, honey, baby, jagiya, sweetie, future wifey, koala bear, cuddle bug and many more sweet names. i can give you a million nicknames.

you do the same.

- Channie, future husband, baby, jagiya, sweetheart, cutie, sweetie, boyfriend, darling, baby boy, prince, hottie, kangaroo, Chris, Christopher, Bahng. you never run out of nicknames for me and they always make me blush, laugh and flutter.

hug you all day.

- you love hugging me and so do i. it’s the best part of when i come home after a tiring day of practice and engulf you in a big hug like it’s the last time i’ll ever hug you.

i hope this’ll never end for eternity.

- i love you like the person you are, how your nose and brows scrunch together when you can’t open something and always ask me, or how you silently hug me from behind or the side when i’m busy producing songs. i don’t ever want to leave your side.

— ❀ —

i just want all time to stop.

- time has always been an issue. whether it’s morning or evening. i won’t ever get tired of you. the way you whine in the mornings for five more minutes, or evenings when you cling to me like my little koala bear.

— ❀ —

i’m never letting go.

- i am never letting go of you. you’re stuck with me jagiya. now until eternity.

let’s go on a little walk, see the world outside.

- i always have to drag you outside, or else you want to stay inside most of the times we're together. it's cute.

don't wanna let you go.

- never ever will i leave you. my eyes always find you in a crowd, at concerts or fan-meetings. one small smile and i feel like i can achieve anything in this big, scary world.

the way that you give me your hands, i'll fly.

- the first time you gave me your hand, was when your date dumped you at prom. you were so sad and i wanted to punch the bastard right then and there. even though i wanted to be the one who took you to prom in the first place.

at times when i feel down or empty.

- the times when i'm stressed with work, or when i have writers-block, you're always there to distract me. even without me saying anything, makes me love you even more.

you're always beside me.

- you're always there to catch me at my lowest moment. when i feel like a bad leader, or when i feel like i'm not enough for you, the boys or my siblings back in australia. you're just there doing something random with Jisung or Hyunjin and it brings the hugest smile to my face, making me forget all my worries.

promise that i'll love you plenty.

- i promise that i'll always love you. even when i don't show it or say it enough, my heart only beats for you. the way you joke around with Changbin, Felix and I.N. or play savage with Lee Know or Seungmin. it just fills my heart even more than i thought it could.

i hope this'll never end for eternity.

- i'm sure i tell you this lots but the way you always fiddle with the strings of your (my) hoodie or the way you put your hands in your or my holes in our jeans when you're anxious. it's adorable.

— ❀ —

when i look at you i know that you're the only one.

- i have never been in serious relationships but this one with you is something else. i want you to know that i want you as my first and last for everything.

the only one yeah.

- you're the only one that can make me do things i usually hate and the only one that can calm me down in your own magical way.

nothing in the world could beat our little special bond.

- nothing in the world can try and break our bond. with each other we can be crazy in our own way and none of us would judge each other for that.

'cause we are one.

- we are one. you complete me just as i complete you. you know everything of me like i know everything about you.

run around and make a mess, we don't even have to rest.

- the boys are always loud and a mess so i guess i need you to help me clean after them. being a dad of 7 is a tiring job. luckily i have you and together we can do anything.

every moment is a precious memory.

- every moment together or with the boys are precious. like dancing with danceracha until the early mornings, rapping sessions with 3racha in the studio or just joking around with vocalracha when they have nothing to do.

the way you wake me up in bed, yeah, i hope this never ends.

- you always lave little kisses around my face or just stare at me, staying in my embrace. it's mainly me waking you up cause you love your sleep and always ask for 5 more minutes to lazy around in bed.

i'm lucky that you're my best friend so.

- my best friend, my lover, my soulmate, significant other, my future wife, my girlfriend, my everything. there aren't enough words to describe my love for you. guess we should thank your parents for moving right next to us when you were 10.

— ❀ —

i just want all time to stop.

- those last 16 years went by so fast, it's crazy how fast time flies. i'll never forget our first encounter at school. you bumping into me and then scolding me for accidentally dropping my juice box on your blouse. i felt bad and handed you my shirt. and had a huge smile each time i saw you wearing my shirt that day around school.

— ❀ —

i'm never letting go.

- the time i confessed, and you didn't reply, i thought you'd hate me. instead you grabbed my face and gave me a long and passionate kiss. you were barely 17. i was 20. yet it was the best decision i had made that day.

let's go on a little walk, see the world outside.

- our first date was a walk around the beach. your hand was safely in mine as it was a little over 12 am. our phones full of missed calls from our parents as we enjoyed each other's company.

don't wanna let you go.

- when we told our parents about our relationship, they were over the moon. they never expected us to end up together and your father gave me a firm handshake and told me to speak to him later. never had i feared for my life more than the glare he gave me.

the way that you'll give me your hands, i'll fly.

- the way your hands fit perfectly in mine. it's a sign huh? you're my soulmate now and forever. or how you moved to seoul for me because you couldn't stand the long distance, not realising it would be lonely for you. but then again, i forgot what a social butterfly you are and became friends with half the Kpop industry as you were a dance teacher yourself, teaching dances to little kids who were passionate about dancing.

at times when i feel down or empty.

- there's always times when i feel down or empty. like how i worry about if Berry might forget me after not seeing me for a long time and you reassuring me that she won't. because that's who you are, always reassuring me and the others if one of us is feeling stressed.

you're always beside me.

- you've always been beside me. when i was a trainee, when i debuted, when i wasn't sure about my career and all the other choices i made in these last 16 years. you could read me like an open book and knew all my struggles back then and now.

promise that i'll love you plenty.

- the boys are always complaining how mushy i get when they mention you. they've also mentioned a million times when i'll propose to you, not knowing i've started planning way ahead and am planning to ask you very soon.

i hope this'll never end for eternity.

- you always bring me and the boys lunch on your free days or in the weekend. knowing that we all love your cooked foods. and then like to hang around and even dance together with us to choreo's that Lee Know teaches us. or how you even made some changes to the dances cause you thought they could use another movement.

— ❀ —

ah-ooh (eternity)

- you'll always be my eternity.

ah-ooh

— ❀ —

you make me call out your name.

- a little after 5 pm you arrive home. immediately jumping into my arms as you dump your shoes, coat and bag somewhere in the hallway. ''i missed you jagiya.'' i smile in your neck as you hum in response, telling me you missed me too.

you do the same.

- the way you always call my name when i come back home late. telling you not to wait up, yet every time you still do, attacking me in a tight hug and whine cutely telling me to take a quick shower before we head to bed.

hug you all day.

- the door opens and a few seconds later you're in the hallway with two heavy bags of groceries that you picked up on your way home. while you're cooking, i hug you from behind and we stay in each other's presence as you cook a delicious home made dish.

i hope this'll never end.

- even after a long, tiring day at work, you never fail to amaze me with the amazing dishes you learn from the internet, my mother or yours. the praises i give you aren't enough, so i'll feed you too.

— ❀ —

i'm never letting go.

- you've teased me a lot about going to my 'side-hoes' even though i've never had eyes for someone other than you. of course in those 6 years that we've been together we've had multiple fights. but we always went and apologised even if the fight wasn't that serious. we also have an unspoken rule to never go to bed upset and always communicate things with each other before accusing without proof.

let's go on a little walk, see the world outside.

- i'm planning on asking you on the beach. the exact same one where we had our first date years ago. i've got the perfect plan in mind to get you there and the best way to ask you. i can't wait to see your reaction to this song i wrote for you and the reaction you'll have when i go down on one knee and ask you to be mine for eternity.

don't wanna let you go.

- today, i asked your parents your hand in marriage. they were thrilled to see their little girl getting married to her first boyfriend from 16 years ago. 6 years ago your father glared at me for being the boyfriend of his daughter. today, he gave me a hug and told me he trusted me as your husband.

the way that you'll give me your hands, i'll fly.

- you're never getting rid of me, jagiya. i'll always love and cherish you for who you are. and so will the boys. they were so happy when i told them i'm finally proposing and wanted to be part of the plan too.

eternity.

- you're sleeping in my arms right now, not realising that the ring i'm planning to slip on your finger soon, is safely in it's box in my right hand, while my left arm is tightly wrapped around your fragile body, holding you close to me, your head on my chest right where my heart is beating just for you.

~

#skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #bang chris #christopher bang #eternity #SoundCloud

[subskz]

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 03

note: this is part 3 of a series (part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, slight jealousy, brief mentions of alcohol, sickness, academic stress, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, chan has a bit of a breakdown, bathing scene, nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, praise, possessiveness, biting/marking, the slightest hint of exhibitionism, chan is very needy, stopping in the middle of a scene, oral (reader receiving), lots of begging, crying during and after sex, nursing, handjob, aftercare

word count: 22.6k

There were parts of Chan in everything you did now.

It took a while, but eventually, it dawned on you with a strange sort of delight that you’d subconsciously taken on his habit of pressing his lips together into a thin line—when giving a quick smile, when lost in thought, and, most importantly, when silently dissatisfied. For such a subtle movement, you found that, at times, it expressed your frustration better than voicing it ever could. A Chan-like quality, through and through.

Likewise, he’d adopted your habit of reaching up to brush the tip of your nose whenever you felt self-conscious. Of all the quirks he could’ve picked up on, naturally, it had to be one he could make ample use of. Now, any time your gaze lingered on him for a bit longer than necessary (which admittedly, was often) his thumb would swipe over the adorable apex of his nose, a shy half-smile following the action like clockwork. It took some audacity, really, for him to steal a mannerism of yours and make it infinitely more endearing.

Even less obvious details were fair game for the two of you to snatch up, from mirroring each other’s walks, to parroting certain words and phrases. You’d melded into one another, so much that, in some cases, you weren’t quite sure which traits he’d gotten from you, and which traits you’d gotten from him.

You wondered if the marks you’d left on each other were what had landed you in the situation you found yourself in now.

“Betrayal! That’s what this is! A Sanrio pencil stabbed straight through my giant, loving heart!”

It had been a good five minutes of this. Changbin was back from summer break—skin tanned, hair fluffy, muscles somehow more defined than ever—and with the way his voice echoed shamelessly throughout the cafe, he was making sure everyone knew it. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to greet him properly before the one-man show (which you’d prepared for, but clearly not enough) began; starring none other than Seo Changbin himself, of course.

“Please calm down before you get us kicked out.”

“Calm down, she says!” he cried. “You’re a real scary person, y’know that? Hiding this from me, your good friend, Changbin—your best friend, Changbin—all this time!”

You felt a tinge of guilt for what wasn’t the first time. Despite the melodrama of it all, you knew that he had a point. There was no reason for you to have kept something like this from him for so long, especially when it involved not only one, but two of his closest friends.

“I’m sorry, Bin,” you sighed. “I really did wanna tell you. I was just worried it’d make everything so awkward.”

“Well, of course it’s awkward,” he agreed. “But I still want to know! At least that way, we can feel awkward together!”

Something about his reasoning made you soften. It was just like him, to be more concerned that he’d missed out on the chance of being a supportive friend rather than the potential mess that could stem from your involvement with Chan. You would probably do well to have a little more faith in people—a message the universe seemed to have been hammering into your brain a great deal lately.

“Maybe I would’ve told you if you’d talked to me more than once over your entire vacation,” you teased.

Changbin’s mouth fell open in protest, suddenly finding himself playing defense. “Twice!” he corrected indignantly. “And don't try to spin this on me! What about when you called me, huh? That was the perfect opportunity!”

“The perfect opportunity?” you echoed in disbelief. “In that case, I’ll be sure to follow up your birthday wishes next year with news that I’m dating your best friend.”

“Scary, scary person,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask for a hug—you’re not gonna put a knife in my back are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s in the air back home that makes you act like this?”

Still, you felt nothing but fondness as you leaned fully into him, letting it sink in for the first time just how happy you were to see him again. With the way his big arms squeezed around you, you knew he wasn’t truly upset either—even if, quite frankly, he had a right to be.

“I missed you, though,” you patted his back. “You and all your drama.”

“Well, I missed you too,” he huffed. Just when you thought he might be ready to drop the theatrics and move on, he pulled away from the hug, a horrified look forming on his face.

“Oh my God…have I been third wheeling this entire time?”

“Get in line, Seo Changbin.”

His nagging and whining eventually died down, morphing into more playful jabs as the two of you ordered your drinks and found a table to sit at. Exactly as you’d predicted, once he’d recovered from the initial shock, he was all proud grins and smug righteousness, preaching on and on about how he’d told you so from day one and how you should never doubt him or his genius intuition ever again.

“I was mostly joking when I said all that stuff about you falling in love with him, y’know,” he clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think you’d actually go and do it.”

“I’m not in love with him,” you tried to retort, but much to your dismay, your voice cracked right as you uttered the dreaded word.

“No way,” Changbin broke out into cackles of pure glee. “Don’t tell me you went and had a secret wedding without me, too?”

You shoved your straw into your iced coffee with a bit too much force, face heating up. “The more you laugh, the more you sound like someone who isn’t getting his belated birthday present.”

At that, he clamped his jaws shut, giggles halting with a speed that was almost impressive. “Sorry, sorry,” he gave you a sheepish grin. “Behaving, now.”

“How’d you find out, anyway? Did Chan tell you?”

“Nah. Though, I should’ve guessed just from the way he gets whenever you’re brought up. All shy and smiley, it’s honestly kinda nauseating.”

He scrunched his nose up in distaste, but the words had no real edge to them. In fact, there was nothing but affection there. It made your heart skip a beat, embarrassingly enough, to know that just the mention of you was all it took to have that kind of effect on Chan. Every time you thought you couldn’t possibly be more taken by him, he proved you wrong.

“If not Chan, then who?” you hesitated before asking. “Minho?”

“Hey,” the whine was back in his voice. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe I figured it out myself?”

You said nothing, smiling around your straw and sipping contently away at your coffee.

“Yes, it was Minho,” he grumbled.

Though you’d been expecting it, the confirmation still made your skin crawl, overtaking Chan’s warmth with a cold discomfort. You hadn’t seen or heard from Minho since your encounter in the convenience store a few weeks ago, and each time you thought back to him, the pit of unease in your stomach grew stronger. You wondered just how much he’d told Changbin. Judging by his behavior that day, he seemed to be aware of everything—whether he was the type to mince his words, or to expose it all without a care in the world, you weren’t quite sure. Even if you’d spent more time around the guy before he’d decided to switch up on you, you got the feeling that you still wouldn’t have any clearer insight into how his mind worked.

“Speaking of Minho,” you began slowly. “Has he…said anything lately?”

Changbin snorted. “He’s said a lot of things.”

“Sorry. I mean, like, about me.”

“I don’t think so,” he squinted, eyeing you up and down. “Why? Are you planning on picking off my friends one by one?”

It was lighthearted, just a joke, but it nearly made you grimace. You’d be glad to never even cross paths with Minho again if it meant avoiding that harsh, accusatory glare that had yet to fade from your mind. Experiencing it once was more than enough.

“C’mon, Bin. It’s nothing like that.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what you said last time.”

You gave a half-hearted chuckle in response, only noticing a moment too late how unconvincing it’d come out. It caught his attention, and he glanced up from his drink to give you a curious look.

“Everything alright?”

You were reluctant to confide in Changbin about the matter, both to avoid burdening him with something so silly, and because of the very unavoidable fact that Minho was just as dear a friend to him as Chan. He’d only just found out about your relationship; immediately piling its potential problems on him was the last thing you wanted to do. At the same time, however, you figured it was better to ask someone who knew Minho well before you jumped to conclusions. Not to mention, Changbin might genuinely believe you were interested in rounding up all his friends if you didn’t clarify why you’d brought up the subject of Minho in the first place.

“I saw him a few weeks ago, and he was being kinda weird.”

“No issues there.”

“Not in his usual way, though—at least, I don’t think so?” you tried to be careful with your words, acutely aware of how sensitive you may come off if you chose the wrong ones. “I just got the feeling that he doesn’t really like me all that much. So, I was wondering if he’s brought it up with you.”

Changbin frowned, taking a moment to mull over what you’d said.

“You think Minho doesn’t like you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “What’d he say to you?”

“Just some weird things about me and Chan,” you shrugged. “It almost felt like he was trying to intimidate me, or something. Like, he thinks I have bad intentions.”

A troubled look crossed his face—brief, but just long enough to foster your unease. He went quiet for a few moments, nibbling thoughtfully on his bottom lip, then, at last, gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Minho knows you’re not like that,” he said simply. “And he wouldn’t just hate you for no reason, either. Definitely not it.”

You made a small noise of acknowledgement, pretending to understand what he meant, but Changbin still seemed to sense that he hadn’t gotten through to you.

“You’ve seen the way he acts around us, right? He’s probably just messing with you now that he feels more comfortable,” his voice mellowed. “He might seem difficult, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s a pretty great guy, actually. Soft at heart.”

“I believe you,” you murmured. You didn’t doubt for a second that he was a good friend to Changbin and Chan; you’d witnessed it firsthand in the time you’d spent around them. The problem was, you seemed to have done something to land yourself as the target of his inexplicable wrath, and you weren’t sure how to get yourself out of the line of aim before his eyes pierced an arrow straight through you.

“Maybe you’re right. I must’ve just misunderstood him.”

“He’s easy to misunderstand,” Changbin reassured you. An unpleasant thought appeared to cross his mind, twisting the small smile tugging at his lips right back into a frown. “Just…don’t tell him I said any of that. He didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“Of course not,” you grinned. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Though you weren’t entirely sold on Changbin’s reasoning, it was at least worth a shot to reconcile with Minho before completely giving up on a positive relationship with him. It wasn’t even so much that you were hurt by his unexpected hostility, you just wanted to know what had caused it. You wanted to fix it.

In fact, you were determined to fix it. For both your sakes, and—most importantly—for Chan’s, you were going to make it right.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

College parties, as it turned out, were still very plainly, very aggressively, not your scene. Even with Chan and Changbin there, even with some of the most talented students on campus putting on performances that were, unsurprisingly, really, really good, even with the three-month long promise of getting to see 3RACHA live finally coming to fruition, you were having a hard time enjoying yourself.

You didn’t think it was possible to be experiencing this many different emotions at once. Every one of your senses was suffocated with something. The stinging smell of alcohol, the uncomfortable sheen of sweat on your skin, the perpetual ringing in your ears, the swarming mass of people, and the residual taste of artificial strawberry—the only refreshment you’d managed to take a few sips of before being swept away into the crowd over an hour ago. You were overwhelmed, you were exhilarated, you were anxious, you were impatient. You appeared completely calm amidst the chaos ensuing all around you, yet somehow, were more of a mess internally than even the most intoxicated of attendees.

You’d spent a majority of your time scattered, tossed amongst your friends at random intervals throughout the night. Fifteen minutes with Changbin before he and Jisung had retreated to the bathroom to practice their lyrics, twenty minutes with Iseul before she and her boyfriend had gotten into a heated argument about him not matching the energy of her dancing (something you were sure to get earful of later), thirty minutes with various friends from class before realizing in dismay that they consisted almost exclusively of touchy and crybaby drunks, and a mere five minutes with Chan.

Shortly after the party had begun, you’d arrived to find him already looking cheerfully exhausted. He’d been there for hours already, having offered to help the committee with all the setup and decorations for the event. Even once the festivities were in full swing, he was still dashing around the venue left and right, assisting with soundchecks and the transfer of equipment with hardly any time to prepare for his own performance, let alone to socialize. It warmed your heart as much as it tugged at it. Even on a night where he should be his own top priority, he was still bending over backwards to help everyone else but himself.  

It lasted until he was all but forced to stop, dragged away by Changbin and Jisung to set up for 3RACHA’s showcase. The moment you’d been anticipating all night—all summer, really—the sole reason you were even putting up with an environment so out of your wheelhouse to begin with, came at last. The three men shuffled on to the makeshift stage with an awkward sort of swagger that you only ever saw in them when they were together. It was like each one of them needed the other two with him to lock properly into place, to align their energies and bring out the best in each other like a finely-tuned machine. In a way, that in itself was a testament to the song they’d be performing.

The familiar sirens you’d heard countless times before, pumping through your phone speakers in a personal concert, now blared through the hall for everyone to hear. Chan’s eyes fell from the screen of his laptop where he’d been getting things situated, landing directly on you without even having to search the crowd. He gave you a grin, dimples flashing, and that was the last you saw of it for the next three minutes and thirty seconds.

You’d already had an idea of what Jisung was capable of based on the handful of 3RACHA songs you’d heard, but to see it unfold in person was something entirely different. The goofy, scatterbrained junior that always looked a bit on-edge every time you spotted him, now rapping at the speed of light with each word flowing like torrents in a stream. Something about the way he read the lyrics directly off his phone, even for a performance like this, made it all the more mesmerizing to watch. He was the kind of person you could tell was a hidden genius.

Changbin became every bit as fierce and intimidating as you’d initially believed him to be the first day you’d met. Voice raspy and eyes dark, looking straight into the crowd almost like he was challenging them with each effortless line he spit out. It served as a reminder that all his drama and flair wasn't just something you could tease him for; it was something he could own the stage with, as well. His pride radiated off of him in waves; not only in himself, but in them as a unit, and every ounce of it was justified in your eyes.

Undoubtedly the most drastic transformation, however, was Chan. From the moment Zone began, the boy you’d come to know seemed to go dormant for a while, replaced with something you’d never quite seen in him before—something approaching confidence. You thought back to that day in the library, where you’d tried to imagine in amusement how someone like him, who could hardly look you in the eye while playing snippets of his Placebo instrumental, could be the one behind such powerful lines. You didn’t have to imagine it now. He had the least parts out of the trio—you were certain he’d chosen Zone as a way to give Jisung and Changbin more time to shine—but he made just as great of an impact. You could feel the effects of it, on you and everyone else around you. There was no question about it; he belonged there.

By the time the performance was over, you could add a few new emotions to the ones swirling inside you: happiness, pride, and something else you couldn’t quite place. You found Changbin amidst the sea of people first, weaving and dodging through the crowd until you reached him, or, rather, crashed directly into him. His face broke out into a wide smile as soon as he realized it was you, barely getting the chance to say anything before you pulled him into a hug.

“So?” you could hear the giddiness in his voice as he gave you a tight squeeze.

“You killed it, Bin! That’s gotta be the best you've ever sounded,” you hoped he could hear your praises over the pandemonium. “You gonna remember me when you’re famous?”

He pulled away with a laugh, lifting his chin in—mostly—feigned bravado. “I’ll consider it,” his eyes sparkled. “Did you notice the new move I did?”

“Obviously,” you imitated his stylish salute with two fingers, and his smile grew even wider. “And what’s with that sound you made at the start of your verse?”

“It’s my new signature!” he declared.

“So cool! You’re so cool, Seo Changbin!” You threw a hand over your heart with a giggle, and he bumped his shoulder against yours, suddenly embarrassed.

If he said something in response, you didn’t quite catch it, effectively losing all focus the instant your eyes caught sight of a group of people gathered nearby. Chan was at its center, grinning from ear to ear as he tried to keep up with everyone’s chattering all at once. A visual of him you’d pictured so many times before, now right before your eyes—a charming, social butterfly who made befriending others look as simple as breathing. It truly sank in at that moment, that the boy who’d come to mean so much to you in so little time, had a whole other side to his world that you didn’t even know of. The view of his thousand-watt smile wasn’t for your eyes alone, the pieces of himself that he put into his music weren’t solely for your ears.

It made your heart sing; he should be adored. But at the same time, that sensation from earlier made its presence known once again. The girl next to him, the head organizer for the event, if you remembered correctly, reached out to touch his arm as she laughed. Her hand lingered for a moment too long, a look you knew all too well swimming in her eyes.

Oh. Suddenly, the mystery feeling wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.

Something ignited deep within you, completely different from the familiar heat Chan set off in your skin. It was immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. You weren’t the type to bristle over something so small—at least, you’d never thought you were. You wanted to blame it on something; the fact that you hadn’t seen Chan for most of the night, the fact that it felt a bit too reminiscent of what he used to do whenever you’d dared to take your attention off of him for even a moment. But Chan would never even think to pull anything like that, it went against his nature. His nature just so happened to entail being adored wherever he went.

You knew it was nothing more than that same selfishness that had reared its head the night you’d first slept together. Not quite insecurity, and not quite jealousy. It was rooted in something much simpler: a matter of what felt right, and what didn’t. You’d wanted to be done with the troublesome feeling from the moment you’d first encountered it—to nip it in the bud before it sprouted into something uglier—but just like everything about your relationship with Chan, it was out of your hands. It was inevitable. With the wholeness that came with his presence, an emptiness was left in his absence.

“Oh my God,” Changbin’s exasperated voice cut through the music, and, in turn, the thoughts swarming your head. “Stare any harder and he might just burst into flames.”

You blinked, embarrassment increasing tenfold. “Sorry, Binnie,” you muttered. “What were you saying?”

He gave you a knowing nudge. “Just go talk to him so I don’t have to look at your lovesick face anymore.”

“Not lovesick,” you protested, but the way your eyes darted right back to Chan did nothing to help your case. You found him staring at you this time, his overwhelmed beam shifting into something softer, sweeter—a look of relief. He dismissed himself from the group just as your feet were preparing, almost reflexively, to pull you in his direction. You turned to give Changbin another apologetic glance, only for him to roll his eyes and gesture for you to leave.

“I need to find Jisung, anyway,” he told you. “Talking to more than one stranger at a time probably has him looking for an escape route.”

Promising to meet up with him again later, you parted ways, a strange sense of calm washing over you as you came face to face with Chan at last. The pungent smell in the air was replaced with his fresh citrus, the clamoring sounds around you suddenly much quieter in your ears, as if waiting with bated breath to hear what he had to say.

“Hey, you,” he grinned.

“Hi, Channie,” you held out your hands, skin tingling when he rested his palms against yours. Slightly clammy from the adrenaline rush of the performance, but soft to the touch. Warm as ever.

“So, were you ever planning on telling me that you’re a shapeshifter?”

“A shapeshifter?” he giggled, more melodic than any of the music you’d heard that night.

“Those moves? The growling?” you marveled. “Even the way you carried yourself; you really know how to put on a show.”

Chan’s fingers—topped off with black nail polish, you noticed for the first time—twitched in your hands, resisting the urge to reach up and adjust his cap, tug at his ear, swipe over his nose, do something to try and alleviate his embarrassment.

“Did you like it? Or was it too much? I know this one’s your favorite, so…”

…I hope I didn’t mess it up. You could hear the words on the tip of his tongue without him even finishing. They were clear in every nervous flicker in his expression, every awkward shift in his feet.

“Are you kidding?” you rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand. “You were made for this.”

The flashing lights around you illuminated his face just in time for you to see his eyes widen. It almost made you sad—the genuine shock etched into his features.

“Ah…” he ducked his head, speechless. Suddenly, you completely understood why he’d been reluctant to ask you to attend the showcase. You should’ve known by now; Chan didn’t have to play coy to endear you, he accomplished that just fine by simply being himself.

“You really think so?” He kept his stare glued to the floor.

“Of course. Everyone else can see it, too,” you added. “I’m really proud of you, Channie.”

His cap hid his expression from your view, but you were certain that his brilliant smile was there—the one you loved so much, the one so wide that it couldn’t be contained, swelling his cheeks and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Thank you,” it was meek, barely audible above the roar of the crowd. “That means a lot.”

You wanted to dip your head under the brim of his hat and meet his gaze, to let him know just how much you meant it. You wanted to kiss him, unconcerned with the people around you who might see—in fact, it only strengthened the desire, the chance to witness his cute, flustered reaction to a public display like that.

Your hesitation lasted a split second too long, however, as you spotted a fresh group of people approaching the two of you; some faces recognizable, some entirely new. You kept your smile as they made their way over with shouts and cheers, but your hand gripped Chan’s just a bit tighter.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Tonight was full of firsts for you, it seemed.

Attending a university party without leaving within the first hour, mingling with more people than you’d ever thought existed on campus, and now, as you currently were, lacking so much in self-control that you were pressed up against Chan in the venue bathroom.

You weren’t quite sure how you’d ended up there, the only thing you were sure of was the slew of emotions leading into it. Chan could tell that you were antsy, and, maybe, he was feeling antsy too. The number of times you’d been separated throughout the night only to drift right back to each other was too many to count. It got to the point where the final time it happened, you’d opted for linking arms to avoid getting lost again.

You wanted to go home—you’d been more than ready to from the moment 3RACHA had finished performing—and you would’ve gladly left Chan to enjoy the rest of the event with his endless rotation of friends if it weren’t for the fact that every time you were apart for too long, he’d go looking for you. At first, you’d tried to tell him not to worry himself over whether or not you were having fun, but eventually, you realized with a flutter in your chest that it wasn’t just his usual attentiveness at play; he wanted you next to him.

When he’d asked if you wanted to retreat somewhere quieter for a bit, it had been innocent enough. You didn’t think he’d expected things to head in this direction—you certainly hadn’t. With your vigilance and his shyness, neither of you were exactly the type.

“This okay?”

“Mhm,” he breathed against your lips. The faint pounding of the bass outside could still be heard through the bathroom door, but you were much more fixated on Chan’s racing heartbeat.

“You look—mmph—so pretty tonight,” he slurred. “Been wanting to kiss you.”

His voice still had the faintest rasp to it after the strain of performing, exciting you more than it probably should’ve. “You’re so sweet,” you cooed, pressing a peck to the corner of his mouth. “How do you think I felt seeing you up on that stage?”

He made a soft noise, unable to protest when you took his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking delicately and making him melt into you. His mouth fell open for you to devour freely. His hands, which had been hovering uncertainly over your hips, rested on them at last. From the way his fingers constricted around your clothes, you knew he was itching to bring you closer; he always was. 

“You don’t believe me?” You pulled back just slightly, tugging at his plush skin between your teeth as you did.  He tasted sweet, even sweeter than usual. The same artificial strawberry you’d tried earlier in the night. Gently, you used your hold on his cheeks to turn his head in the direction of the mirror.

Chan’s eyes fell instantly, avoiding his reflection like second nature.

“Look at yourself, Channie,” you encouraged. “I want you to see what I see.”

A quiet whine built in his throat, but he complied nonetheless, meeting his own, timid gaze in the mirror. You let your hands slip from his cheeks to give him a clear view of his face, shifting your position so that you stood behind him, admiring the view together.

“Pretty boy,” you drawled, running your hands along his shoulders. “For someone who’s so good at reading people, you’re clueless about how bad they really want you.”

He tensed up, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “What?”

“You didn’t notice?” You tilted your head. “That's okay. It’s cute, actually.”

Your lips found his neck, breath fanning over his warm skin in a way that made goosebumps rise to the surface. Keeping your eyes locked on his reflection, you pressed a trail of kisses down his throat, doing little to hide how high your emotions were running.

“D-did something bother you?” he stuttered out, and if you hadn’t known him any better, you might’ve thought he was trying to tease you. Hearing him say it out loud nearly made you cringe at yourself. It was so trivial, so ridiculous. You didn’t want him to see that side of you—a side you’d hardly even known you had before tonight. Still, the burning sensation had grown too strong for you to ignore anymore, with each suggestive touch or longing glance thrown Chan's way serving as fuel to the fire.

“Why would I be bothered?” you said at last. “They don’t get to see you like this.” His breath hitched as you grazed your teeth along his skin. “Or hear you like this. Do they?”

“N-no,” he agreed. “Just you.”

Just you. You wondered if he’d said it knowing full well the kind of effect it would have on you.

“Do you like all the attention?”

He pressed his lips together, averting his eyes from the mirror again. It was subtle, but you could’ve sworn his hips jutted forward just a bit.

“I like your attention,” he said softly.

Another perfect answer from a perfect boy. Your hands fell from his shoulders, sliding down his body to give his waist a squeeze through the thin material of his shirt. “You deserve it,” you licked a stripe up his neck. “All of it. Who wouldn’t go crazy over you when you look like this?”

“I…” He bit his lip, no doubt to hold back what he really wanted to say. “Please, ‘m getting shy.”

You were almost tempted to grab hold of his chin and tilt his head up, giving him no choice other than to take in the breathtaking sight of himself. But judging by his bright red ears and restless squirming under your palms, he was flustered enough already—so much that you worried it may actually mortify him to face his appearance on top of your praises reverberating in his mind. Instead, you pressed more wet kisses to his neck, hands roaming further down his body and feeling up the expanse of his stomach, right above the waistband of his pants. He whimpered, pushing his hips forward much more noticeably this time.

“It’ll be bad if we get caught,” you hummed. “Keep quiet, Channie.”

Chan sucked in a sharp breath as you ran your tongue along his ear. You took his hoop piercing between your teeth, tugging at it in a gentle, but deliberate taunt.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “You know I can't.”

You smiled deviously around the silver. “I know.”

The sound of your voice was nothing short of intoxicating, smooth and sultry and pooling heat in his abdomen at an alarmingly quick rate. Your fingers traced over the buttons of his jeans, playing with them in a tortuous dance, but not quite popping them open. The material was already starting to feel tight around him, and when you fully cupped the area without warning, his mouth fell open to spill out a shaky moan.

Your heart jumped; he was so sensitive, reduced to the flushed, noisy mess you saw before you with just a few touches and kisses. You thought back to what he’d said that night—about how it’d been a while—a small part of you wondering if that was the real reason, or if he was just always this reactive. It thrilled you like nothing else, the prospect of him being so vocal, so vulnerable to every bit of stimulation no matter how many times he’d felt it before.

“Maybe that’s what you want? For everyone to hear all these pretty sounds you make for me.”

You dragged your tongue up from his lobe, swirling it around the shell of his ear and practically tasting the heat radiating off the reddened skin. Frantically, Chan tried to mask another moan, hands gripping the sink for support.

“No—ah—just you. Only for you.”

“Only me?” You gave him a squeeze, curling your fingers around his growing bulge and making him shudder against you. “Should I make sure they know that?”

He peeked up at last from under the brim of his cap, eyes already so foggy, lips already puffed. Your mouth traveled down from his ear, pressing a kiss right to the junction of his shoulder and neck. A light hiccup escaped him when your front teeth tickled the flesh, threatening to bite down in full.

“Can I?” you checked.

Chan leaned in further so that nearly all his weight was resting against the sink, knees weakening at the mere thought of what you were going to do. “Yeah,” he gasped. “Please.”

“It’ll show,” you warned, basking in the feel of his pulse beneath your lips.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want it to.”

Any composure you had left was no match for the desperation in his voice. He always knew exactly what to say—or, rather, anything he said was exactly what you wanted to hear, solely because it came from him. Without wasting another moment, you sank your teeth into his neck, wrapping your lips around the patch of skin to create a hot, delicious suction that nearly made Chan fold in half.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a sharp cry escaping him despite his best efforts. You tightened your grasp on him in an attempt to keep him steady, but the added pressure to his length only seemed to make things worse. He whimpered something incoherent, hips rolling forward to grind into your palm—uncharacteristically shameless of him.

You sucked to your heart’s content, nibbling and running your tongue along the sensitive area until you were certain a mark would be left behind for days to come. When you finally released his flesh from between your teeth, Chan was all but panting, face scrunched up with pleasure and bulge twitching in your hand. You gave the mark a delicate lick, soothing the flared skin while he caught his breath.

“Mine.”

It sent a shiver down his spine. Just as you were preparing to sully a new spot on his neck, a sudden knock on the bathroom door made you both freeze in place. His body stiffened against yours, head shooting up in a panic.

“Is anyone in here?” a girl’s voice came muffled through the distant rumble of the music.

The doorknob wobbled, and you steeled yourself to respond, knowing that Chan was in absolutely no state to.

“Yeah, just a minute!” you called, throwing out the first excuse you could conjure. “My friend’s feeling a bit sick.”

Carefully, to avoid drawing out any more questionable noises from the boy, you pulled your hand away from his crotch and peeled yourself off of him. He straightened up as best he could, blinking rapidly to clear the haze from his eyes. Guilt pricked at you, among other things, for allowing the situation to get to this point, but even as Chan urgently tried to adjust himself so the hardness in his pants would be less obvious, he didn’t look upset—not in the slightest. He gave you a sheepish half-smile when he met your gaze, eyes gleaming with pure, unfettered adoration.

You smoothed out your clothes, trying to ignore the very prominent ache between your legs.

“Sorry, Channie,” you murmured. “I guess I got carried away.”

His fingers brushed tentatively over the mark you’d left, cheeks matching the shade of his ears. “S’alright,” he licked his lips. “I like it.”

He had to stop saying that—for the sake of your sanity, if nothing else. You cleared your throat, reminding yourself that there was, in fact, some poor soul out there waiting impatiently for the restroom.

“And all the…possessive stuff I—” you paused. “I hope it wasn’t too much.”

“Too much?” he cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t notice?”

A repeat of your question from earlier. You went quiet for a moment, trying to decode the meaning behind it. Everything that had transpired throughout the course of the evening flooded your thoughts at once: the fixed stares from across the room, the hand-holding, the arm-linking, the search for you every time you strayed too far. Butterflies fluttered to life your stomach the instant you wrapped your head around it.

“Oh.”

His giggles mixed with yours, light and timid. How very like him, to admit so openly to the exact feeling you’d been hoping to hide. Hiding with him was a fruitless endeavor, anyway.  

You rested your hand on his lower back, reaching for the handle with your other. “Look sick,” you whispered.

Chan leaned over slightly, masking both the lingering flush on his cheeks and the blossoming lovebite on his neck. On the opposite side of the door, you found none other than the event organizer standing there, watching the two of you inquisitively as you shuffled out of the bathroom. You gave her a polite dip of your head, and Chan offered a quick greeting as you ushered him along. You weren’t proud of it, but any self-consciousness you’d felt before was instantly overtaken by that selfish satisfaction.

As the two of you re-entered the fray, your hand slid down from Chan’s back, allowing him to walk normally again—or, as normally as he could when he was still very much trying to ebb the arousal you’d set off in him. He flexed his fingers as they brushed against yours, lacing them together before you could even think to pull away.

By some miracle, you managed to locate the other two thirds of 3RACHA with just a bit of sifting through the crowd. The relief was short-lived, however, alarm gripping you in its place when you noticed who was standing with them. Lee Minho.

It was no surprise that he was there, but you’d somehow managed to go the entire night without catching so much as a single glimpse of him. A part of you had been grateful for it, but the other part was also itching to see him. Ever since your conversation with Changbin, you’d become more and more ashamed about the way you’d acted with Minho in the convenience store. He’d rubbed you the wrong way, sure, but you were certain that your reaction had only made the situation worse. This was your chance to fix it, to dodge the arrow before he could finish drawing back his string.

“It’s completely different,” you heard him insist as you and Chan approached the group. He was engaged in what appeared to be a very serious debate with a very confused Jisung. “It’s like iced coffee versus hot coffee that’s been out for too long; they’re both cold, but one’s supposed to be, the other isn’t.”

Jisung blinked, lips parting and closing several times over the next few seconds. You’d never quite witnessed someone’s thought process unfolding in real time like that before. Even if you’d caught the full discussion between the two, the look on his face told you that you still wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going on.

“I’ll be honest, man, you lost me three analogies ago.”

Minho clicked his tongue, looking ready to drop another equally convoluted explanation. Instead, he fell silent when he spotted you, the delighted smirk of someone who knew he was being difficult transforming into something much harsher, much less natural. It nearly made you wince. You’d never been particularly close with the guy, but you’d thought you were at least reaching a point where he’d grown comfortable enough to approach you with the same casualness he did with the rest of his friends. It bothered you more than you wanted to admit, that the first sign of friendship sprouting between you had been trampled on for reasons that you didn’t even know, nor comprehend.

His stare flickered between you and Chan, and you prayed desperately that the dim lighting of the hall would be enough for the fresh mark you’d left on Chan’s neck to escape Minho’s scrutiny. He narrowed his eyes, and your heartbeat picked up. So far, not off to a great start.

Still, you swallowed—your misgivings, and your pride—and flashed him a quick smile.

“Hi, Minho.”

No response, just a nod. Something told you that you were lucky to get even that out of him. He turned his head, planning to continue his debate with Jisung without addressing you any further, but the other boy had already been sucked into a high-energy conversation with Chan and Changbin about ways they could improve future performances.

“Can we talk?” you tried to keep your volume low, just enough for him to hear without catching the attention of the others.

He studied you with an impressive lack of interest, and for a moment, you thought he might really go the rest of the night without uttering a word around you.

“Why?”

“I just want to clear the air. I feel like we kinda had a misunderstanding the other day.”

“Maybe on your end,” he said curtly. “I understand what’s going on just fine.”

You took a breath, forcing yourself to remain open-minded. “Maybe,” you agreed. “So, could you tell me what I’m missing about all this?”

Wordlessly, he brought his cup to his lips, fixing you with unblinking eyes the entire time he drank, like you might lash out and attack him if he let his guard down for even a second. You managed to hold his gaze, but that same chill from before began to creep up your spine. It was so intense—and for what? Anyone who saw the way he was looking at you might think the two of you were involved in some kind of centuries-long blood feud between your families.

Even after he’d swallowed, he said nothing, and you felt your patience slip just a bit.

“If I’ve done something wrong, or if I’ve upset you somehow, please let me know,” you added.

“Upset me?” he hummed. “Yeah, actually, you did.”

You tensed.

“When you said I wasn’t funny, it really hurt my feelings,” he announced. “Apologize with flowers and tears, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

It almost sounded like his usual manner of joking around, but your glimmer of hope was put out by that same, cold expression. You tried not to lose sight of your goal, clinging to what Changbin had told you in the cafe. He’s easy to misunderstand.

“Minho,” you began lightly. “I’m being serious here.”

His eyes glinted under the flashing lights. “So am I.”

You allowed your face to drop at last, realizing right then and there that he had no intention of even telling you what you’d done wrong—let alone giving you the chance to make amends with him.

“What, you don’t like that idea?” he feigned hurt. “Maybe you’d rather get on your hands and knees and ask for forgiveness?”

You bristled. “That’s enough.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. A look almost akin to gratification crossed his features, like a crack in your demeanor was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Hm. Guess you’re not really sorry, after all.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, okay? Even as a joke.”

“I’d be glad not to talk to you at all,” he shot back. “But it seems you have nothing better to do than pick fights with me.”

Unbelievable. You had to stop yourself from clenching your fists, solely because of the fact your hand was still loosely clasped with Chan’s.

“Pick fights?” you repeated. “I’m trying to fix things between us!”

“There’s nothing between us to fix.”

The way he said it was strange, pointed. You were positive there was a deeper meaning to it, almost like he was implying that there was something for you to fix, just not with him. It planted an unpleasant thought in your mind—or, rather, watered the seed of an idea that was already rooted deep within it.

You’d managed to keep your voice hushed thus far to avoid causing a scene, but the building tension finally seemed to reach a tipping point, enough to catch Chan’s attention. He put his chatter with Jisung and Changbin on hold to give you a curious glance, and, as irritated as you were with Minho’s provocation, you smiled back at him.

“You alright?” he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, eyes darting momentarily in Minho’s direction. He’d turned away from you as soon as the opportunity had presented itself, going right back to talking with Jisung as if your conversation had never even happened. At least one part of what he’d said had been straightforward—he clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

“You’re friends with some pretty weird people, y’know that?”

Chan grinned. “Birds of a feather.”

Your spirits lifted a bit, taking comfort in the fact that he at least seemed oblivious to the altercation that had just taken place. Still, it was a shallow relief. You knew now, with complete certainty, that Minho wasn’t going to make things easy for you.

Of course he wouldn’t. Nothing was ever that easy.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

One month into the fall semester of your senior year, the academic distractions that you’d been longing for all summer were now upon you. Perhaps, even, a bit more intensely than you’d have liked.

Your classes were manageable enough—a significant improvement over the hellscape that was Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics—but the amount of time and effort your research lab demanded more than made up for what might’ve been an easy final term. When you weren’t attending your lectures or completing assignments, you were practically living in the astrophysics lab; analyzing spectroscopic measurements, reconstructing images from interferometric data, observing optical maps of the interstellar medium, and, on top of all that, sitting through countless meetings with your team.

It was as fulfilling as it was exhausting, and though you were more than happy to finally get some hands-on experience in your field of study, you couldn’t help but feel a bit wistful about this new routine as well. Your Experimental Physics II section with Changbin only took place once a week as opposed to the biweekly Thermodynamics lectures, and that, coupled with the lack of study sessions and your limited free time meant you were seeing him much less often than before. It was even worse in the cases of Chan and Iseul, both of which you rarely saw on campus to begin with. Even with Iseul more or less still treating your apartment as her second home, and Chan being his usual, relentlessly considerate self—never going too long without checking in on you—they were both busy with their respective capstone projects as well, leaving your interactions fewer and further between in comparison to the spring.

You knew it wasn’t rational, but it almost frightened you how such minor shifts in your daily life could feel so jarring, especially when graduation, the greatest shift of all, was looming on the horizon. The sands of time were trickling along without a care in the world, changing things little by little until they were unrecognizable. Some for the better, some for worse.

You’d thought you were handling the gaps in your time spent with Chan fairly well; that was, until it dawned on you halfway through September just how often your mind would drift to him while working on your research. Every new set of spectral line data or roAp star photometric variations had you visualizing what his reactions might be—his gleaming eyes that captivated you more than any of the stars you were observing, his voice growing shaky with excitement as he tried to discuss your observations without pausing every few seconds just to gush about how cool it all was.

You weren’t pleased with the number of instances your lab partners had caught you grinning to yourself in the middle of running tests and collecting data, giddy over the mere thought of his presence. As it turned out, Changbin hadn’t been too far off when he’d labeled you as lovesick.

Summoned by your thoughts, your phone vibrated against your desk to signal a text from none other than Changbin. You placed down your pencil in defeat, accepting the fact that you weren’t going to be getting any work done at this rate—daydreaming about how often you were daydreaming about Chan should’ve been indication enough.

bin 😑 (2:03 p.m.) number 5???

You blinked at your screen, dumbfounded.

bin 😑 (2:04 p.m.) number 5 pls pretty pls

you (2:04 p.m.) i sent you number 5 yesterday?

bin 😑 (2:06 p.m.) oh ;;; number 6 pls~~~

you (2:06 p.m.) i think i deserve an honorable mention on ur diploma

bin 😑 (2:07 p.m.) get me thru this hmwk and i’ll make it happen one for you and one for chan ><

The thought of it nearly made you laugh out loud: Changbin, trying to charm his way through the dean’s office to make a proposal as ridiculous as that. You didn’t doubt that he might try it, or that he might actually succeed in doing so.

Shuffling through your papers, you snapped a picture of your assignment, barely managing to fit the entirety of the required work in one shot.

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) thank uuu oh speaking of chan lol u know he’s sick?

you (2:10 p.m.) what???

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) i knew it he didn’t tell you -_-

You felt a pang of worry, countless questions filling your head at once. It’d been a day or two since you’d contacted Chan, even longer since you’d seen him in person—definitely over a week by now. The last time you’d talked hadn’t been over a phone call like usual; you’d texted him just to see how he was doing, and after a short chat he’d promised to meet up with you sometime the next week. It had been unusual, but not unusual enough for you to overthink it, especially considering how swamped the both of you were.

you (2:12 p.m.) how long has he been sick for?

bin 😑 (2:13 p.m.) couple days? actually more like a week now

Worry twisted into a sense of dread. Why hadn’t he told you?

You didn’t have to question it for long. You knew why—anyone who knew Chan well enough could piece it together with ease.

bin 😑 (2:14 p.m.) he hasn’t gone to class for a few days ㅜ you should visit him if you can

you (2:14 p.m.) yeah, i definitely will thanks for letting me know binnie

If your homework had been an afterthought before, it was long forgotten now. You didn’t bother to clean up your workspace before rising from your chair, leaving the scattered notes and eraser shavings for you to deal with later.

You weren’t sure what you were experiencing as you made your way over to your kitchen, digging around for ginger and garlic and praying that you’d have enough. It was an overreaction, probably, but you berated yourself regardless; for not noticing that something was wrong, for not pressing harder when asking how he’d been, for not questioning the longer periods of time you’d gone without talking. You’d wanted to give him his space, but for it to go as far as him thinking he shouldn’t tell you that he was sick—sick to the point where he couldn’t attend class, stirred something awful in you.

The pot nearly slipped from your hands in all your haste to prepare your materials, and you took a breath, forcing yourself to relax before you set fire to your apartment. Still, the concern, the guilt, didn’t die down. You were so accustomed to being in-tune with every aspect of your relationships, be it friends, family, or romantic partners, making note of every little detail, every subtle shift; sometimes before they themselves could even realize it. But for what was neither the first nor the last time, you had to remind yourself that this was Chan you were dealing with. Of course he wouldn’t tell you—he wouldn’t tell you anything that he believed might cause you even the slightest inconvenience. He would do whatever it took, go to any lengths imaginable, just to avoid committing the unforgivable sin of letting you care about him. It was the complete opposite of everything you'd come to understand about the world, the people around you, and it put you in a position that you weren’t sure you wanted to be in.

You weren’t going to stand idly by, watching him board his openings shut before anyone could catch a glimpse of what was inside, watching him burden himself with the fear of burdening others. Whatever had happened in the past for him to reach that point, you wanted to suck it out like poison until there wasn’t a single drop left in his system. You were going to be there for him, whether he liked it or not.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

His face was the last thing you’d expected to see when the door to unit 8-325 swung open.

Realistically, it shouldn’t have been. He did live there, after all. Like the annoying troll under the bridge that wouldn’t let you pass unless you answered his riddles three. It took everything in you not to make a face as you were met with Minho standing in the doorframe. He, of course, didn’t extend that same courtesy to you, eyes narrowing into an unmistakable grimace when he laid them on you.

“What do you want?”

“Hi to you, too,” you muttered.

His expression didn’t change, and, much to your disdain, you once again found yourself mesmerized by that gaze of his. You hated how effective it was; unreadable, yet communicating a thousand things all at once. Even if he really was as harmless as Changbin claimed, even if his cold glares and cutting comments were the extent of what he could do to you, your skin crawled all the same.

When you saw that he wasn’t planning on dignifying you with a response, you inched forward, expecting to be let inside. That would simply be too easy, though. Minho shifted so that his body blocked your path, pulling the door closer to him for good measure.

“Chan’s sick,” he deadpanned.

You paused, blown away for a moment by his audacity. “I know he’s sick,” you gritted your teeth. “I’m here to check on him.”

You might’ve sworn you saw the corner of his lips start to twitch, but you tore your eyes away too quickly to be certain. The last thing this man needed was whatever kind of ego boost he’d get from you paying a little too much attention to his features.

“Not much you can do,” he dismissed, voice light and airy as ever. “Unless you think gracing him with your presence is gonna make him all better.”

It was your turn to shoot Minho a glare, foot darting out just in time to prevent him from shutting the door in your face. Wordlessly, you lifted the container of galbitang into his view.

He raised an eyebrow, the closest thing to a genuine reaction you could get from him. “Changed your major to the medical route?”

“I don’t see you doing anything to help him,” you snapped.

Your patience was already minimal when it came to this guy, but ever since you’d confronted him at the event in August, it seemed like he’d made it his personal mission to run it as thin as possible every time you interacted with him. It was kind of impressive, really, the way he knew exactly how to push every last one of your buttons with ease.

Fresh out of half-assed excuses, Minho shrugged, as if he’d never even cared in the first place. He let go of the door handle, and you took that as a sign to push past him and slip inside.

You removed your shoes as quickly as you could, not wanting to spend another second around him if you could help it. Knowing that Changbin wasn’t home, you stalked past the kitchen and through the living room, the soothing scent of freshly-brewed yuja tea flooding your nostrils as you did. It almost made you feel bad about what you’d said to Minho, but you knew better than to apologize for it now—if you’d come to learn anything, it was that your peace offerings would be met with even more hostility than your provocation. Instead, you padded down the hallway, heading straight for Chan’s room.

Careful not to lose your grip on the container in your hands, you managed to give his door a light knock. A few seconds passed before you heard a faint “come in”, muffled by the sound of what was sure to be a pile of blankets. You braced yourself, recovering from your Minho-induced rise in blood pressure, then slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind you.

Chan blinked his eyes open just in time to see you approaching his bed. They were foggy, even more exhausted than usual, and they widened slightly when he registered who was standing before him.

“Hi, Channie,” you whispered. “Were you sleeping?”

“N-no, I—” his voice came strained and hoarse, so different from his pleasant, melodic lilt that you had trouble believing it was really him speaking for a second. “I was already awake.”

You rolled his desk chair over to the side of the bed, placing your container of galbitang on his nightstand next to the half-finished cup of tea and army of empty water bottles. He watched, stunned, as you sat down next to him, still trying to process what was going on.

“Um…how did you—?”

“Seo Changbin,” you hummed.

A weak smile formed on his face. “Bin…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” he croaked, not sounding alright at all. “Guess when you told me to look sick I took it a little too seriously, yeah?”

You let out a light giggle, and he tried to join you, only to spiral right into a violent coughing fit instead. It made your heart twist with sympathy, and you reached out to brush back his messy curls, resting your palm on his forehead. His skin was burning, and not in its normal way—if you could even call the amount of body heat he carried with him normal. It was heavy and sticky and pulsing, like you could physically feel the ache plaguing his head.

“Ah, wait,” he warned. “You shouldn’t touch me, you’ll catch it.”

I don’t care. You almost wanted to say it without restraint, but you settled for something more tactful, something less pointlessly dramatic. “You wouldn’t get me sick, would you?”

He flashed you another feeble smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry you have to see me like this,” he rasped, shrinking into the covers so that his face was only half visible.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie,” you ran your fingers gently through his hair. “I just wish you’d told me. How long have you been sick?”

The feeling seemed to relax him, weary eyes drooping just a bit as your nails grazed his scalp. “It’s only been like this for a few days,” he hesitated. “But I first started feeling it last week. Minho thinks it’s the flu.”

You stopped combing through his hair, letting your hand simply rest atop his head. He seemed to sense your disapproval, eyes peeking up at you from beneath the comforter to meet your frowning face.

“It’s not that bad, though,” he tried to assure you. “Just a cough and some headaches.”

“Bin said you haven’t been able to go to class.”

Chan sucked in through his teeth; caught. You sent out a silent apology to Changbin, realizing a split second too late that you’d probably set him up for a scolding as soon as Chan could speak without sounding like he had gravel in his throat.

“I just didn’t want you to worry,” he explained sheepishly. “Especially when you’ve been so busy.”

“I’m always thinking of you, anyway,” you countered, only half-joking. “So, please don’t hide stuff like this from me, okay? That’ll only make me worry more.”

For a moment, he stayed silent, and you got the feeling that your words hadn’t quite gotten through to him. Regardless, he eventually gave you a tiny nod.

“Promise?” you pressed.

“Promise.”

He didn’t hold out his pinky this time to seal the deal, but you chose not to dwell on it considering the fact that his hands were buried under layers upon layers of blankets. Instead, you gave his head one last pat and reached for the thermos on the nightstand.

“Can you eat?”

His face lit up at the sight of the galbitang. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I haven’t eaten yet today, actually.”

You frowned, biting back an exasperated comment. Even if his horribly skewed priorities frustrated you more than anything else—touching a part of you buried so deep within that you yourself couldn’t fully grasp it—you’d visited Chan with the intent of helping him, not lecturing him. There was no changing the outcome now, anyway. All you could do was try and make things a little easier for him, to balance out his determination to create new obstacles for himself as quickly as you could break them down.

“It should still be warm, but I can go heat it up if you’d like?” you were reluctant to ask, not keen on the possibility of seeing Minho again.

“No, no, s’alright,” he shuffled around in the sheets, trying to sit himself upright against the pillows. “I’ll eat it like this.”

As soon as his protective pile of covers slipped down his torso, he was shuddering. Even with the hoodie he was wearing, chills passed through his entire body, so strong that you could visibly see how his shoulders shook.

“Oh my God, Channie,” your voice softened to a tone that he’d only ever heard you use with him, one that soothed his pounding head. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?”

He attempted to say something in response—to deny it despite every cell in his body screaming otherwise—but between his sniffles and chattering teeth, it was hard to make out. You reached out with your free hand and pulled the covers back up his chest, draping them over his shoulders so that just his head and neck were exposed. Chan blinked at you, the confusion on his face morphing into subtle panic when he understood what you were planning.

“Ah…you don’t,” he coughed. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” You unscrewed the lid and unlatched the spoon from its side. “I want to, actually. If it’s okay with you.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you—the flush that crept up on his cheeks, even more visible than usual with how little color there was to his sickly complexion.

“Okay,” he averted his eyes. “Yeah, thank you.”

You scooped up a portion of the soup, making sure to gather a good mix of ingredients for him, then brought it up to his lips. He blew out puffs of air a few times before taking the spoon into his mouth, still refusing to meet your gaze.

Despite his awkwardness, a cute hum followed. “This is really good.”

“That’s how I know you’re sick.”

He giggled gently, careful not to set off another coughing fit. “No, I mean it,” he licked his lips. “I can taste the flavor, even though my nose is all stuffy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled, dipping the spoon back into the container. “I kinda made it in a rush, so I hoped it’d at least be edible.”

Chan finally looked up, fixing you with a guilt-ridden gaze. “I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, just as you brought another portion up to his lips.

“The only person you should be apologizing to is yourself,” you said firmly.

A comfortable silence filled the room, with nothing but the sound of Chan’s slurping and wheezy breaths breaking it. Though the bashfulness was still there—it always was—he gradually came to relax the more you fed him, slumping his shoulders and letting out those content, satisfied noises that you’d come to love so much after each hot spoonful. The sight of him, disheveled as he was, made your heart feel strangely full, the ripples of worry fading out until it was calm and clear. He was being cared for, looked after; even if for just a moment. You decided right then and there that it was the only thing you’d ever ask of him—to dare to let you treat him with an ounce of the kindness he showed everyone but himself.

The steam, garlic, and ginger seemed to do their job in clearing up his sinuses a bit, as his sniffling grew more and more frequent until it was obvious he was having a hard time containing it. He had to refrain from ducking his head, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him as you plucked a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his nose clean. Still, he thanked you quietly, sinking further into the pillows.

“Is there anything else I can do?” you sealed the now-empty container shut. “I can pick up any missing work for you tomorrow, if that helps.”

Chan’s eyes were half-lidded now, his weariness finally starting to catch up to him. “Nah, don’t trouble yourself. Most of my stuff is on my laptop, anyway.”

For the first time, you noticed the device amidst the blankets and sheets, teetering on the edge of his mattress in a way that made your adrenaline spike considering it was the precious amalgamation of all his blood, sweat, and tears since he’d entered university.

“Have you been working, even now?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “But I think staring at a screen just made my head feel worse. Gonna try again later.”

Before you could say anything else, he changed the subject, like he knew you’d advise against it the instant the words left his mouth.

“But how’s your work? Is the lab going okay?”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at your lips. You might not have let him get away with it if he hadn’t asked about the exact thing you’d been dying to share with him since the last time you’d met up. Maybe that was what he needed, anyway—something to cheer him up and take his mind off the perpetual ache consuming his body.

“I’m observing a pair of binary stars right now.”

He perked up against the pillows, lifting his head so quickly that it actually earned a light hiss of pain. Still, his face broke out into a smile, exactly the way you’d dreamed of when you’d first analyzed the spectral lines.

“What kind?”

“Spectroscopic.”

His dimples appeared for the first time that day. “The closest pair!” he chirped. “That’s amazing, I wish I could see it.”

“I can show you their Doppler shifts as the next best thing,” you offered. “They’re so close even the telescopes can’t separate them. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Super romantic,” he beamed, eyes twinkling through the glaze of illness. That familiar warmth spread through your skin—just by looking at him, you could tell he was thinking the same thing as you. “Orbiting so close and so fast…you think they’ll change each other’s evolution?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”

Like in the case of most binary pairs, one star burned brighter than the other—just the slightest bit. Even if the difference in them was miniscule, you had no doubt in your mind which of the two was Chan.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Space talk could only mitigate the effects of the flu for so long. Chan’s half-lidded eyes eventually drooped all the way shut, his raspy but enthusiastic chatter dying down into barely-responsive mumbles, then, finally, soft, steady snores. It took everything in you not to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, already accumulating beads of sweat as his fever began to break. Even after all your recklessness in getting so close to him while he was sick, you figured that would be pushing your luck a bit too far. Instead, you ensured he had enough water for when he’d inevitably wake up parched, adjusted his pillows so that his head was properly elevated, and tidied up the mess on his nightstand as best you could.

Carefully, you tiptoed out of his room, taking one last look at his sleeping face before shutting the door.

As you entered the living room from the hall, you found Minho seated on the couch; presumably hard at work, judging by the way he was hunched over his laptop, typing up a storm with computer glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He didn’t even spare you a glance when you passed him to toss the empty bottles in the recycling bin. You’d long learned to keep quiet around him to avoid setting off yet another tirade of petty insults and icy scowls, and you would’ve gladly gone without a word if the memory of your earlier accusation wasn’t nagging away at you. That, and, maybe the affection that had bubbled up inside you upon seeing Chan had let down your guard a bit.

Against your better judgment, you mustered up the will to say it. “Thanks for looking after him.”

Minho’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Obviously,” you replied evenly. “I just mean I’m glad he has you.”

You were prepared to leave it at that, both to let him resume his work, and avoid the claws that were sure to come out if you kept pressing the matter. To your surprise, however, he piped up again just as you began making your way over to the door.

“If you’re expecting me to say the same about you, don’t hold your breath.”

You told yourself to ignore it, but with just a few words, he’d effectively frosted over all the warmth that Chan had kindled in your chest. Something snapped in you, making you spin on your heels before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Minho’s eyes flickered up at last, widening for only a split second before they narrowed again.

“That’s no way to talk to someone in their home,” he clicked his tongue. “If I wasn’t such a gentleman, I’d kick you out.”

You held your ground, refusing to feel embarrassed about your outburst no matter how much he provoked you.

“Answer me.”

Minho rose from the couch with a sigh, making it no secret what an inconvenience he found you to be, what an utter waste of his time it was to even address you.

“What makes you think I have a problem?”

You let out a bitter laugh. The absolute gall of this man.

“Don’t play dumb with me, okay? Changbin told me this is just what you’re like, but I haven't seen you treat anyone else the way you treat me.”

Minho was closer now, still a few feet away, but near enough to put you on high alert. He looked so unrecognizable these days, you’d forgotten what it’d ever felt like to be comfortable around him, to be in the same room without that unease spreading through your skin.

“You think you’re special?” he sneered. “Do your ego a favor and listen to Changbin.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he carried on, still managing to sound so carefree despite the venom in his words.

“Unless, of course, you’re the only one allowed to give orders here.”

You froze.

“What?”

“Hit a nerve?”

“What are you talking about?” You had to contain yourself, solely for the meager hope that maybe, just maybe, you might get a clear answer from him for once.

“I’ve seen your type before, too many times,” he spat. “Chan just can’t seem to break that ugly habit—falling for people who only know how to take advantage of him.”

You bristled, so enraged that you couldn’t even think to answer. All that filled your head was red, hot anger, defiance, and, buried beneath all that, fear.

Anger that he had the audacity to speak to you that way. That he’d passed such a cruel and absurd judgment without so much as bothering to get to know you first. Defiance that he thought he had you all figured out when he didn’t even know the half of it—of what Chan meant to you, of what you’d been through, of the people who had chewed you up and spit you out just like he was implying you liked to do.

Fear that he was right. Fear that someone else was capable of having those thoughts about you, that they weren’t just your own baseless inhibitions. The lingering effects of what he had planted in your mind, never quite uprooted.

“My type,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Is just as capable of being taken advantage of.”

Minho crossed his arms, stare unbreaking as if inviting you to continue—to prove yourself to him. The thought alone made your stomach churn.

“You’re not as smart as you think,” you hissed. “You don’t know the first thing about me, and whatever happens between Chan and I is none of your business.”

He sniffed, unimpressed. “When you hurt him, it will be.”

He said it with so much certainty, so much confidence, you nearly believed it yourself. You clenched your fists, mustering all your strength to control the irrational amounts of rage bubbling up inside you. You thought of Chan, asleep in the other room amidst his nest of sweaty blankets and tissues, fighting off the flu on top of everything else he had resting on his shoulders. You thought of his exhausted face, paler than usual, and his cracked voice, still trying to reassure you even when he was in such a miserable state.

You took a deep breath, and you softened.

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

Minho said nothing. Maybe he thought it was too easy to counter, maybe he thought it wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Either way, you were done trying to make sense of him—done trying to defend yourself in front of someone who had long decided you were guilty.

So, he hated you. You could probably live with that. You didn’t exactly have a glowing opinion of him either.

You turned around, making a beeline for the door and slipping your shoes back on as calmly as you could. But, of course, it wasn’t over quite yet. Ending things on your terms, where you got the last say, wasn’t an option when it came to Minho.

“Running away from the fight you started again?” he called lazily. “This is getting boring.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Iseul’s sigh rang out through your apartment, so loud and so exaggerated this time that you couldn’t in good conscience brush it off. Half-amused by her transparency, you paused the show on your television, turning to give her a questioning look.

“Something wrong?”

“Look at that!” She gestured aggressively at the screen, where the male lead, soaked and forlorn with a bouquet of flowers in hand, was waiting in the pouring rain outside of his love interest’s home. “Where do I find someone like that, huh?”

You giggled, only to realize with a start that she was being dead serious. She pouted at you, and you cleared your throat, rushing to correct yourself.

“Are you still having problems wi—?”

“Yes,” she interjected, as if exasperated that it’d taken you this long to notice. “We had an argument earlier today. He called me needy, can you fucking believe that?”

You let out a hum of disapproval; you’d never really gotten a good vibe from this guy from the start, especially as Iseul’s boyfriend. He was far too emotionally unavailable for someone as expressive and sensitive as her.

“Why would he say that?”

“He’s just a dick. All I did was ask him to help me practice my marketing presentation—y’know, since you didn’t have the time to,” she added. You guessed it was probably just her frustration speaking, but something about the way she said it seemed off, like you were partially at fault for not being there to help her in the first place. “Then, after like two tries, he gets all annoyed with me saying I’m being way too nitpicky and wasting his time.”

You knew better than anyone how high-strung Iseul could be when it came to academics; it was the trait in her that had initially sparked your friendship, after all. She could be demanding, sure, but it was only because she cared so much about performing well. Being there for her any chance you got wasn’t even a matter of debate for you—it was the bare minimum, whether for a friend, or a significant other.

“Anyway, I’m still waiting on him to apologize,” she huffed. “I’m not the crazy one here, right? Like, do you think he has a point?”

“You’re not crazy.” You pressed your lips together, trying to approach the matter with caution. “I think you just have high expectations for people.”

“But that’s not a bad thing!”

“Of course not,” you agreed. “As long as you treat them with the same consideration.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I could literally be the best girlfriend ever if he’d just let me. He literally never appreciates the things I do for him.”

“Maybe you just have different ways of showing your care for each other?” you suggested. “You can try bringing it up next time you talk.”

Iseul groaned, dragging her hands down her face, as if the thought of urging him to have a mature, emotionally open conversation with her caused physical pain. “I guess. If he ever even bothers to text me again.”

“How long has it been?”

She looked away, uncharacteristically meek. “A few hours.”

“He usually takes that long anyway, right?” you reasoned. “He’ll definitely come around, try not to stress too much about it.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “I’m sick of thinking about it. How are things with Chan?”

It was the only detail of your life she ever really asked you about lately. You didn’t mind most of the time—you were more than happy to talk about him over other, significantly less pleasant things, but in this case, you felt a twinge of discomfort. You hated that the first thing that came to mind wasn’t Chan’s crinkled eye smile, but rather, Minho’s relentless death glare. The thought was unnerving enough for you to consider bringing it up with Iseul, just as a way to get an outside opinion from someone who wasn’t Changbin or Chan. Unlike them, Iseul didn’t know Minho at all, and you liked to think she was blunt enough to tell you objectively if you were in the wrong.  

“Pretty good,” you hesitated. “Well, there is something—”

“I’m sure they’re more than just good,” she interrupted again. “All you ever do is hang out with him these days.”

You flashed her a grin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Someone to entertain myself with once you’ve settled down?”

You were met with another huff. She crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowing in a way that immediately told you she wasn’t in the mood to joke.

“Doesn’t mean you have to ditch me now that you’ve got yourself a boytoy.”

“C’mon, Iseul,” you tried to keep your tone light. “You practically live here.”

She picked at her fingernails in silence, and you felt yourself start to panic a bit, suddenly taking the implication that you’d been neglecting your friendship much more seriously. You hadn’t noticed a difference, save for how much busier your schedules were this semester—but that was inevitable given how hectic senior year was for everyone. As much as Chan consumed your thoughts (something Iseul was better off not knowing) you barely saw him more often than her; in fact, given everything he was constantly juggling at once, you probably saw him less.

“What are you always so busy with, then?” she questioned at last, the slightest bit accusatory.

“The same as you. Classes and my senior research.”

You couldn’t decipher why she looked so unconvinced by the explanation, like the idea of you being preoccupied with your own personal matters was somehow incomprehensible to her. She shifted around in her spot, clearly set on the idea that there had to be more to it than that.

“Fine,” she turned her head back to the television, still frozen on that same, pitiful frame from the drama. “I still need someone to help me practice though, and I’m definitely not asking him again. So, it’s gotta be you.”

“Sure,” you replied. “I can definitely find time.”

You wanted to believe that she was just in a foul mood because of the fight with her boyfriend—and maybe that really was the whole of it. Surely, she wouldn’t dismiss the past two years you’d spent helping and supporting her the very instant you had to focus on yourself for a bit.

Even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help but wonder for the first time if the scale between you and her was more out of balance than you thought.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

October had arrived at last, bringing with it a pleasant chill in the air, early tints of orange on the trees, and a fresh wave of midterm exams. Most importantly, it brought Chan’s birthday. He’d recovered from the flu a mere few days before the third of the month, and you’d never been more grateful for the sight of his radiant smile and rosy cheeks, full of so much life that he energized not just himself, but everyone around him as well.

His birthday fell on a Tuesday, not exactly the most ideal time for a celebration between Experimental Physics II and The Life and Death of Stars, but you’d been determined to make it work. You would’ve made anything work if it meant getting to spend even an hour with him on the day where he was, for once, the center of the universe. A small get-together had been planned later in the evening at his apartment—actually a small get-together this time, as promised so seriously by Changbin—but you’d come up with an excuse to skip out on it. No matter how hard you wished it didn’t bother you, the idea of being under the same roof as Minho again had been all the reason you needed to keep away. You had no doubt in your mind that he’d do everything in his power to make you feel unwelcome, and you didn’t trust yourself to remain collected around the guy after he’d proven time and time again how talented he was when it came to riling you up.

The last thing you’d wanted was to cause a scene on Chan’s birthday; it wasn’t even worth risking. If you put a damper on his happiness simply because you couldn’t stop yourself from fighting with his best friend like two feral street cats each time you crossed paths, you’d never forgive yourself. Instead, you’d met up with him for lunch and pastries earlier in the day, with the perfect excuse to cover all the expenses for it—much to your delight, and much to his dismay. Even if you were a bit wistful about missing out on the real celebration later, Chan’s beaming face when he’d opened your gift, the best external hard drive you could afford, had more than made up for it.

It’d been a week since then, another week where you and Chan barely found the chance to lift your heads from the sea of work to check in on each other. You knew that he was especially overwhelmed. His sickness couldn’t have come at a worse time, leaving him playing catch up with all his missed assignments and lectures on top of the stress of midterms.

Your thumbs hovered over your phone screen, tapping against each other as you debated whether or not to send him a message. As if on cue, it lit up with a notification that made your breath catch.

channie 🐺 (1:03 a.m.) you awake?

you (1:03 a.m.) yeah hi channie

There was a delay before he texted again, three little dots appearing and disappearing below your chat bubble more than once, like he was repeatedly typing and deleting what he wanted to say.

channie 🐺 (1:07 a.m.) can i call you?

The question felt strange, unlike him. You’d grown accustomed to expecting his calls the very instant he’d find out you were available—more often than not, without any warning at all.

you (1:07 a.m.) do you even have to ask?

channie 🐺 (1:09 a.m.) i should probably start haha sorry

You frowned. Something was definitely off.

you (1:09 a.m.) nooo that’s not what i meant  ur calls are the best surprise

Another minute passed without a response, and you began to worry that you’d actually upset him. Then, your screen lit up again, this time to signal his incoming call.

He didn’t greet you immediately after you picked up like he typically did. You registered the subtle sound of whirring on the other end of the line, like a breeze was billowing through his phone speaker.

“Chan?”

“Hi,” he sounded out of breath. “What’s up?”

“I was about to check on you, actually,” you confessed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

Your heart fluttered, but it didn’t fully ebb the worry piling up inside you. “I missed you,” you murmured. “Starting to think dropping out isn’t such a bad idea.”

He chuckled—light, barely there. It was gone as soon as it came, as if not to overstay its welcome. The distant sound of a car engine met your ears, distracting you from what you’d planned to say next.

“Are you on your balcony?”

“Taking a walk,” he replied.

You blinked. “At this hour?”

“Yeah, couldn’t really sleep.”

For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest. You’d never heard him sound like this before. Blunt, sullen, defeated. A part of you, the hypervigilant part, wondered if he simply wasn’t in the mood to talk—but then, why would he have even asked to call you?

“Oh no,” you made a soft noise of sympathy. There was a pause as you mulled over how to approach it; whether to nag him not to get his adrenaline rushing so late, to offer words of comfort for whatever seemed to be bothering him, or to pretend like everything was okay, just to take his mind off of it. You didn’t want to keep pressing after you’d already asked once, but something was very clearly wrong; so wrong that Chan himself was making little effort to hide it.

“Do you want to look at the moon?”

A deep inhale. “Yeah.”

Wedging your phone between your ear and shoulder, you pulled up the blinds of your bedroom window and pushed it open, allowing the cool, October air to waft through your senses and drift over your skin. The moon was in its Waning Crescent phase, a thin, delicate slice of light illuminating the clear sky. You tried to picture Chan on the other end, the wonder in his tired eyes, the slope of his nose tilted upwards as he admired it like it was the first time it’d ever graced the night.

“Are you looking?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’ll be a new moon soon.”

“Yeah,” he said again.

A silence stretched across the call, not quite uncomfortable, but not quite serene, either. Even from afar, you could feel the thoughts buzzing in his head like they were your own, disturbing any peace the view might usually wash over him. His breathing, at least, steadied, and you guessed he’d stopped walking to get a proper look at the sky.

The two of you stayed that way for some time, long enough for you to start filling the gaps with his absentminded humming and sweet vocalizations. There was none of that today; just silence.

Then, you heard it. Faint, muffled, like he’d turned away from his phone to avoid letting you catch it: a sniffle.

“Channie,” you whispered. “Are you really okay?”

“Just my leftover cold, don’t worry.”

You kept quiet. You both knew he’d fully recovered well over a week ago.

“Sorry,” he said weakly. “Can I come over?”

“Right now?” You glanced at the time. It was already nearing 2:00 a.m., you didn’t want him to make such a long walk this late, especially not in his current condition. “Why don’t I come meet you?”

“No, no, ‘s alright.”

“Well, of course you can come. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended. It left you feeling heavy with unease, an emotion you’d never once associated with Chan. As foreign as it was, it made you all the more determined to be there for him, to take on some of the weight he carried everywhere he went before his knees completely buckled underneath him. In your eyes, he was just like the moon he loved so much—always shining down on you with the brightest side of him, and never allowing you to see the other. You wanted to break the tidal lock and see the dark side of the moon. To uncover all the hidden craters and basins and accept them as a part of him.

Not even ten minutes had passed before you heard a knock at your door, far too soon for him to have arrived by foot. It made you realize, with another tug at your heart, that he must’ve already been on his way to your apartment when he’d first called.

When you swung open the door, there was a short lapse before his smile came, strained, but relieved. His hair was tousled from the wind, eyes outlined with dark circles, and black jacket unzipped. It hung loosely off his shoulder, and when you pulled him into a hug, you could feel the chill from the outside air lingering on his skin. Even so, his persistent warmth still seeped through; it always did.

Neither of you said anything as you took his hand in yours, guiding him to the other room. You settled down next to him on the edge of your bed, facing the window where the moon was still watching over you. Chan kept his eyes firmly locked on it, but his fingers brushed tentatively against yours, tracing the lines of your fingerprints and palms as if to commit them to memory.

“Sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You could never bother me,” you said simply.

It was so immediate, so natural, it had him taken aback for a moment. He sucked in through his teeth, well aware of your gaze studying his side profile with growing concern.

“At the showcase,” he mumbled. “Did you really mean what you said?”

The question could’ve been in reference to anything, but somehow, that was all he needed to ask for you to know exactly what he was talking about.

“Of course.”

Memories of him up on that stage flooded your mind. His charisma, his passion, his belief in Changbin and Jisung and, for a fleeting moment, himself. Just thinking about it was enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin.

“When I saw you performing, all I could think about was how much you belonged up there.”

Chan’s breath hitched. At last, he turned his head to face you, that same look from the night of the party—the one that troubled you for reasons you couldn’t explain—crossing his features again. Hopeful eyes searched for any hint of insincerity, any shadow of a doubt, only to find nothing but raw affection.

He leaned in suddenly, brushing his nose against yours in a wordless plea, and you closed the space between you. His lips were the slightest bit chapped from the crisp autumn air, but their plushness was never lost, consuming your senses with that soft, irresistible quality you could never get enough of. He melded seamlessly into you, filling every gap and crevice, pulling you further in like waves lapping at a shore.

Chan turned slightly on the bed, angling his body to bring himself closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours. For such a simple touch, it made him sigh sweetly into you, lips parting to add a new degree of heat to it all. His fingers flexed in your hand, and you used the other to cup his face, holding him steady as he moved his mouth with increasing urgency. Cute, tiny sounds built up in his throat each time your tongue slid against his, growing louder and louder until he was all but whimpering into your mouth.

His desire, normally thinly-veiled by a layer of timidity, was on full display tonight—not quite pushy, rather, begging with every pucker of his lips and graze of his teeth for you to take things a step further, to let him fall completely into you. It was a lack of restraint you often had to build into, to guide him there yourself. You kept telling yourself to get a grip, to break the kiss and check on the boy who, just minutes ago, appeared to be on the verge of falling apart; but it was fruitless to even think about ridding yourself of a sensation so addictive. His free hand reached for your waist, hesitant as ever to grab on as tight as he needed to. Instead, he took your shirt between his fingers, playing with the fabric in a way that, strangely enough, was even more exhilarating.

The sounds spilling out of Chan became muddled together, and it took you a few seconds to realize that he was trying to say something to you.

“Please,” he whined. “Please, please.”

You ran your thumb along his cheek, unlocking your lips from his at last. “What is it, baby?”

“Need you,” his breath was shaky, lungs aching from the intensity of the kiss. “Can I make you feel good? Please, let me this time.”

You paused, pulling away to get a proper look at him. “Are you sure?” you frowned. “You don’t look well, Channie. Why don’t we talk?”

“N-no, ‘m okay. Just really need you right now.”

His gaze flickered down to the spot between your thighs, and he swallowed. It affected you more than you wanted to admit—the pure want in his eyes for something so selfless.

“I’ll be good,” he promised. “However you want it, I’ll do it. Please.”

You scanned his face a few moments longer, trying to put aside the arousal spreading through you at an alarming rate, just long enough to get a read on him. Your concerns were still very much there, but the look on his face told you that he wanted—needed this even more than you did.

Gently, you squeezed his hand one last time before unlacing your fingers. “Alright...if that’s what you want.”

Chan watched, mesmerized, as you repositioned yourself on the bed, resting your back against your pillows and slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to tug them off.

“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “I’ll do well. Promise.”

It nearly made you coo out loud. All this just to please you, just to satisfy desires that, unbeknownst to him, were already fulfilled just by being with him. Still, you knew Chan well enough to understand that it wouldn’t sit right in his mind until he gave you everything he had to offer. He’d give you his all if only you would let him.

Even as you slipped off your underwear, he stayed put, unmoving until you gestured for him to come over. He licked his lips, eyes shining in the low light when you spread your legs at last. Your heartbeat picked up as he settled between them, suddenly so close that you could feel each shaky breath of his tickling your sensitive skin. Tentatively, he placed his hands on your thighs, glancing up at you to ensure that it was really okay. You gave him an encouraging nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak when the only thing you could focus on was how dangerously close his mouth—his perfect mouth—was to your most intimate spot.

With your permission granted, he began pressing kisses to your inner thigh. They started off with that same shyness you knew, careful and reserved, but quickly became less and less controlled the more his mouth roamed. His lips were smoother now, wet and glossy, and they sent tiny jolts through your senses each time they came in contact with your skin. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought he was purposely trying to tease you, giving hints of what he could make you feel without diving in fully just yet. But the way he kneaded your flesh with the pads of his fingers, a low, desperate noise bubbling up inside him, said otherwise. He was appreciating every bit of you, basking in the moment, as if he may never get the chance to have his head between your legs again.

His sloppy kisses drew closer and closer to your heat, and when his lips came to hover over it at last, you had to stop yourself from pushing against his face right then and there. Delicately, his tongue slid out to glide from your entrance right up to your clit, ending it with a gentle flick that sent a shiver down your spine. He repeated the action almost immediately, a sweet hum escaping him as your arousal flooded his tastebuds.

Your hand fell down to his head, gripping his curls in a way that made his own pleasure spike, if the sudden whine he let out was any indication. He continued licking away, each intoxicating lap of his tongue growing more confident and making you ask yourself just why on earth you’d ever deprived yourself of such a feeling. It satiated a need that you hadn’t even known was there to begin with, twisted the muscles in your core with both tension and relief. If it’d been a while since he’d used his mouth like this, it certainly didn’t show.

“Am I…” he slurred. “Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you assured him. “My sweet boy, using that pretty mouth for me. Making me feel so good.”

Your praises earned a moan from him, so loud you’d think he was the one experiencing the hot, delicious rhythm of his tongue. The sound vibrated against your folds, making your toes curl and your nails dig further into his scalp.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you giggled breathlessly.

“Mm. Just wanna—mmph—please you,” he managed between licks. “Wanna be a good boy for you.”

Before you could respond, heart-shaped lips wrapped unexpectedly around your clit, engulfing it with his plush, wet warmth and sending shockwaves all throughout your body. Despite your best efforts, you gasped, barely able to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs around his head. He sucked eagerly, adding just the right amount of pressure that, if kept up, was sure to draw you to a climax faster than you’d ever experienced before.

“Just like that.” You let your eyes flutter shut. “Good boy. You were made for this.”

Chan dragged his upper lip along the sensitive bud, the tip of his nose brushing against it in a way that threatened to snap the tightening coil in your abdomen all at once.

“Made f-for you,” he stuttered out. “Please, tell me I’m good for you. Tell me ‘m okay.”

You weren’t sure if it was his own arousal becoming too much for him to bear, but his voice had become near-frantic, as did the strokes of his tongue. His movements grew sloppier and sloppier, drool mixing with your essence and nose dragging along your folds almost obsessively.

You ran your fingers through his curls, hoping to keep him grounded. “More than okay. You’re perfect for me, baby boy.” 

A broken whimper met your ears, driving you closer to the edge. “Yeah? ‘M doing well? Please, tell me I’m good,” he begged. “P-please, wanna be good enough.”

Amidst all his pleading and babbling, the words caught you off guard, pulling you out of your blissful haze all at once. Something wet dripped against your skin, warmer and thinner than any of the other fluids pooling at your core, and it made your eyes snap open in alarm.

“Channie?”

“I’ll do it right.” He didn’t look up, still working his mouth despite the choked noises building up in his throat. His hands pawed at your thighs, gripping and squeezing with so much urgency that you’d think he was terrified you might disappear. Another hot droplet ran down your skin, and as you blinked to refocus your vision, you finally noticed it—the trembling of his shoulders. “Just please, l-let me show you ‘m worth something.”

“Chan.” Panic gripped you, and you used your clutch on his hair to catch his attention. “Chan, stop for me, baby.”

Every one of your nerve-endings screamed out in protest as he obediently unlatched himself from you, releasing the mind-numbing suction of his lips. But your worry quickly overtook any of the remaining lust in your body. Chan sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to lift his head, and you slid your hand down to his dripping chin, tilting it up into view.

He was crying; tears trickling down his cheeks with fresh ones brimming in his clouded eyes. He squeezed them shut, unable to meet your stare, and your heart may as well have snapped in two.

“Oh, Channie,” you whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” his voice failed him, anything he’d been planning to say fading out into a sob. “S-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

A lump rose in your throat, guilt flooding your chest. You’d known he was off from the beginning—you should’ve done something, you shouldn't have let things get to this point. This was Chan, after all. Of course he’d pretend that he was fine for you, of course he’d try to make himself useful to you instead. You should’ve known better.

Still, you kept calm, even if it was surface-level, you steadied your volume and relaxed your expression; something to ground him amidst it all. “Don’t be sorry. Come see.”

He blinked the tears out of his eyes, only for them to immediately glaze over again. The skin around them had turned red and puffy, and coupled with the exhaustion written all over his face, he looked positively broken. “Sorry, ‘m okay, really,” he tried to insist. “I just…”

One look at your outstretched arms was all it took for him to lose his last shred of composure. He surged forward with a hiccup, falling into you and burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms securely around him, the tear in your heart growing as you felt him shake against you with each gasp and sob that racked his body. His flow of tears didn’t stop, in fact, it only seemed to come stronger in your hold, warm droplets streaming freely and seeping through the fabric of your shirt. You stayed quiet for a bit, just allowing him to release as you ran your hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Why are you crying, baby?” you murmured again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I c-can’t fail,” he managed at last, barely coherent through the slur of his speech. “N-not again. I can’t.”

“Fail? Why would you fail?”

He didn’t answer right away—or, rather, he couldn’t, another feeble gasp effectively cutting off any response he’d mustered up. Despite the slew of questions his words unleashed in you, you remained patient, cradling his head with your free hand while the other continued to rub his back. For all its strength and broadness, it was more fragile than ever shuddering under your palm.

“It’s my last chance. C-can’t mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” you said firmly. Even without any idea as to what he was talking about, you knew that much was true. “What makes you think that?”

Another minute or so passed of him trying to gain control over his hiccups, just long enough to get a proper sentence out. “My mentor,” he took a deep breath. “My mentor rejected my project. S-said it needs a complete rework.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Why?”

You winced at how loud it’d come out, but the utter disbelief in your tone at least seemed to encourage Chan to keep going. He sniffled, still refusing to lift his head from the comfort of your shoulder.

“Just wasn’t good enough.”

“Don’t say that.” The possibility wasn’t even worth considering to you. There had to be more to it; you refused to accept otherwise, not when you’d witnessed firsthand how earnestly Chan poured his heart and soul into every piece of music he’d ever created. “I know that can’t be it.”

A thought flickered to life in your head, one so obvious that you scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. “Did you have enough time to work on it?”

“I…” he began weakly. “I t-tried.”

“You were sick for over two weeks, Channie. Does your mentor know that?”

His breath caught in his throat, telling you all that you needed to know. “Don’t...wanna make excuses.”

“But it’s not an excuse, is it? It’s just the truth,” you reasoned. “You couldn’t even get out of bed. There’s no way you could do your best under those conditions.”

“I...I sh-should’ve—”

“You should’ve been getting enough rest. You should’ve told him what was going on.”

Your words seemed to reach him at last, cutting carefully through the thick fog of self-deprecation and sabotage consuming his mind just enough for him to really mull it over. He inhaled again, slower and deeper this time, but still not free of that painful tremor.

“M-maybe,” he rasped. “Maybe I did need more time.”

“There we go.” You combed through his hair. “Your best is more than good enough, Channie. Your mentor wouldn’t have done this study with you otherwise.”

You wanted, more than anything, to see his face as you spoke, to look directly into his red, watery eyes and let him know exactly how much you meant it. But you knew how vulnerable he must be feeling for you to even see him like this, so you let him be, hoping the message would get through to him nonetheless. “I’m sure if you explain it to him, he’ll understand. He knows what you’re capable of, and so do I. So please, don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

Chan’s shoulders relaxed just barely in your arms. He nuzzled further into you, and little by little, the trembling under your palms came to a stop. Given how hard he’d been crying—even now, with new ripples of tears still trickling onto your clothes—you were certain there was something else brewing deep within him. This was only the tip of the iceberg, the breaking point. Even so, you didn’t press the matter just yet, instead choosing to nurture the hint of calm that had begun to creep up on him.

“Do you really think I can do this?”

Your hand slid down to the nape of his neck, playing gently with the wisps of curls that swooped out. “I know you can,” you murmured. “And even if I didn’t, you’d do it anyway. You were made for this.”

A sweet sound, something between a sigh and whine, spilled out of him. Under any other circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t accept it without a protest or two, but in that moment, he absorbed it wholly—clung to it, even. His head finally lifted from the mess of tears and sweat that had formed in the crook of your neck, only to fall right into your chest instead, not quite ready to face you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and he scooted impossibly closer to you, his thigh brushing between your legs in a way that you willed yourself to ignore. “Why don’t we go wash up?”

He tightened his grip on you, another soft noise gracing your ears. “Can we stay like this, please? Just a little longer.”

You softened. “Of course. Anything you want.”

He slumped fully against you as you rested your hand on the small of his back, the last of his reservations effectively washing away. You played loosely with the hem of his hoodie, listening to the sound of his breathing and taking comfort in the fact that it was finally beginning to even out.

The two of you stayed peacefully like that for several minutes, that was, until something warm and damp spread through your shirt, immediately catching your attention. Not tears this time, rather, the feeling of Chan’s mouth pressing against your chest.

Your heart skipped a beat. His lips puckered faintly, forming a moist ring over the material, right around your nipple. Just as you were about to pass it off as an accident, it happened again.

“Is there something you need, Channie?”

“You,” it came muffled. He parted his lips, wider this time, nibbling delicately on the fabric. “Can I? Please?”

It didn’t take much thought for you to understand what he was implying. An uncharacteristically self-indulgent request, one that filled you with affection and pooled heat in your stomach all over again.

“You’re so cute.” You couldn’t help yourself, his transparency made you melt like nothing else—you only wished that it would extend to other aspects of his life, ones that you were equally as hungry for.

Careful not to disturb him too much, you slipped your hands under your shirt and wiggled out of it. Chan lifted his head, albeit briefly, to make it easier for you to unclasp your bra. The instant your skin was bared to him, he nestled right back into your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sending a spark of electricity through your body. He sucked gently at the bud, taking in your scent through his nose and exhaling contently. His hand, covered by the sleeve of his jacket, reached up for your other breast, pawing at it with timid fingertips before squeezing the soft flesh at last.

“My sweet boy,” you cooed. “My baby boy who works so hard he forgets to care for himself.”

He whimpered, puckering and unpuckering his plump lips in a way that would’ve made you rub your thighs together had he not been settled between them. You cupped the back of his head, and his eyes fluttered shut, a look of pure bliss crossing his face. The red, hot flush from all his crying was replaced with something softer now, a rosy shade dusting his puffed cheeks.

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you continued. “I hope you’ll see it one day. I’m so proud of you.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, an especially high-pitched whine escaping him. For a moment, you worried that he may begin to cry again, then, you felt it—his bulge brushing against your leg. His hips rocked forward so subtly, you weren’t even sure if he himself was aware of it, but once you’d noticed, it became hard to ignore the spike in your adrenaline.

Driven on by the feeling of his tongue swirling hungrily around your nipple, you let your hand drift down to the waistband of his pants. His mouth fell open as you traced over his bulge, all but jolting against you. “A-ah, yes. Touch me,” he pleaded.

“My baby’s so needy today,” you teased, dipping your fingers into his underwear and wrapping them around his half-hard length. He tightened his hold on your chest, his low, drawn-out moan sending a delicious vibration through your skin. “But good boys like you get whatever they want.”

Chan unlatched his lips from your nipple, only for any attempt at a reply to be cut off as you began pumping your hand along his dick. The cool night air drifting through your window was no match for the heat building between your bodies; that same, inexplicable heat that always drew you back to him. His fingers flexed around the softness of your breast, and you realized with a soft giggle that he was subconsciously mirroring the pace of your strokes.

You stopped to roll your palm over the head of his cock, smearing the droplets of precum around to add a layer of slickness to your movements. The cry it earned was nothing short of heavenly, ringing out shamelessly through your bedroom and making your core clench. Chan’s hip shot up into your grasp, so overtaken by the pleasure that he forgot to keep sucking for a moment, instead letting his mouth hang as drool began to dribble from its corner.

“Does that feel good?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes,” he slurred. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You deserve it,” you guided his head closer to your chest, allowing him to take your nipple between his swollen lips again. “You deserve to feel so good, angel.”

A wet, sticky sound, mixing with Chan’s pleas, began building as you glided your hand up and down his cock more steadily. Despite everything, it flustered him the moment he registered it, legs squeezing together with a broken whine.

“You hear that? Even the sounds your body makes are cute,” you hummed. His eyes, already shut tight, scrunched up even further to form an adorable look of embarrassment. “My pretty boy. You don’t even know how perfect you are for me.”

“Please,” he mewled, almost unintelligible through the skin and drool occupying his mouth. “Please, ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?”

He could only whimper in response, cock twitching in your hand as you added a delicious pressure to your strokes. He kneaded your chest with more vigor, leaning in to suck on your other nipple and sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His mouth was like wet, warm velvet encasing the sensitive bud; you found it hard to believe that those same lips had been between your legs earlier, drawing you to a climax with a purpose that you could only describe as raw devotion.

“Gonna—!” Chan’s hips bucked up, his whole body tensing. “A-ah, please, can I?”

You swiped your thumb playfully over his slit, and he practically keened. It was cruel, probably, but his unrelenting need to please you, even amidst all the desperation clouding his judgment, only made you want to toy with him more. Still, you knew that given the state he was in, teasing was out of the question. He needed comfort, pleasure, relief—and all of it rested in the palm of your hands.

“Let me see you cum like a good boy.” You gave one final jerk of your wrist, sending him over the edge at last. His thighs clenched, voice catching in his throat for a moment before breaking out into a gasp. Even so, he kept sucking to the best of his ability, babbles of your name dying down into soft mewls as the last few spurts of his seed coated your palm. You held still to avoid overstimulating him, curling his hair absentmindedly around your index finger until his cock finished throbbing in your grasp. Chan blinked his eyes open, still hazy and puffy, just in time to see you remove your hand from his pants and spread your fingers, connected by thick strings of his release.

“Look at all that,” you marveled. “You really needed this, huh?”

A low whine built in his throat. He pressed his cheek into your chest, shying away from the messy view.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Mhm,” he managed a chuckle—quiet, still missing the jovial, melodic quality of his laughter, but even a trace of it was all it took to lift your spirits. Other than that, he said nothing, and you guessed he wasn’t entirely grounded just yet. You reached for a tissue from your nightstand, making a light grunt of effort with Chan’s full weight resting against you, and wiped down your hand to the best of your ability. As you leaned back against the pillows, your stare flickered down to the boy in your arms. He was an absolute wreck now; a sweaty, flushed, beautiful wreck of dried tears and drool gazing back up at you like he would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You did so well for me, Channie,” you praised. “Such a good boy.”

Pressing a quick kiss to his ruffled curls, you shifted beneath him, wordlessly urging him to let you wiggle off the bed. His reaction was immediate, sweater paws gripping your waist with an unexpected intensity.

“W-wait,” it was tinged with panic. “Don’t go, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you assured him, tapping the tip of his nose. “But we need to get you cleaned up, don’t we?”

He blinked a few times before the words seemed to get through to him. Then, with a slow nod, he hoisted himself off of you. It came as a surprise—though it shouldn’t have—how your body instantly longed for his warmth again. You took both of his hands into yours, almost tempted to push his sleeves back to properly lace your fingers together. But he seemed content with his palms covered like that, safe and secure in a way you didn’t dare to disrupt. With care, you tugged him up by his arms, letting him lean against you as you guided him to the bathroom. He didn’t let go of either of your hands the entire time, and, as awkward as the intimate gesture made it to walk, your heart fluttered.

You set the water to a warm temperature, watching Chan sway back and forth on his feet as you filled up the tub. His eyes were a bit more alert now, breaking the glaze that had encased them all throughout the night, like the reality of what had taken place was beginning to set in his mind.

“Wanna get undressed for me, Channie?”

There was a delay before he responded, long enough for you to give his hand a squeeze.

“Oh…yeah.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, clumsy fingers fiddling with his hoodie in an attempt to shrug it off. With a fond smile, you reached out to help slide it down his shoulder. His arms fell limply to his sides, and you took it as a sign to keep going, slipping your fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugging it off, his pants and underwear following soon after. Even now, he ducked his head, unable to look you in the eye as you shut off the stream of water and ushered him into the tub.

As he sank into the warm pool, a sigh escaped him, so soft and relieved that you could practically feel the bliss rippling through his body. You sat yourself down on the edge of the tub, taking a moment to soak your washcloth before drizzling it with body wash—vanilla and cherry blossom, a blend of scents you’d quickly come to learn was Chan’s favorite. He loosened up the instant you came in contact with his skin, leaning into your touch. Gently, you began to scrub, lathering his broad back and shoulders with the sweet, flowery smell and admiring every curve and muscle in the process.

The rhythmic drag of the loofah and the gentle lap of the water had him reduced to putty in your hands in no time. He didn’t bother to resist the way his eyes drooped shut, each tranquil rock earning a small hum from him.

“Does that feel nice?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Channie. Your muscles are so tense,” you added. “I hope this helps a bit.”

He hummed again, tilting his head to the side as you moved up to the junction of his shoulder and neck, the comforting scent of your soap fully flooding his nostrils. Knowing how sensitive his neck was, you were careful not to press too hard around the area. It was horribly timed, but your skin tingled as you passed over the spot where you’d previously marked him—long faded by now, but you remembered the visual clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “About all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” you ran the cloth along the slope of his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t want you to hide stuff like this from me—isn’t that what we promised?”

He hesitated. “I…yeah.”

“Even big, strong shoulders like yours can’t carry everything by themselves,” you scolded lightly. It earned a puff of laughter, and even with his eyes still closed tight, he lowered his head sheepishly.

The question that had been lingering in the back of your mind all night—the question that had been eating away at you since you’d first met him, really, made its presence known once again. The missing piece of the puzzle, the hidden crater yet to be illuminated. You knew by now that Chan wouldn’t reveal it without a strong enough nudge, no matter how badly he wanted to. Even if it was threatening to burst out of his chest, just aching for a pin to come along, he’d use all his strength to keep in until you punctured it yourself.

“Chan,” you pressed your lips together. “When you said ‘not again’…can I ask what you meant by that?”

He stiffened under your palms, features darkening to form that same expression as all those months ago, when you’d first asked why he’d changed majors. You repressed the urge to take it back this time—you needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

“Spring semester of my senior year,” he mumbled. “I failed most of my classes.”

Something awful gripped you, so intensely that you stopped scrubbing for a moment. Failed. It felt so wrong coming out of his mouth, a word you couldn’t comprehend ever applying to him.

“I…I decided to change from astrophysics and try music. It was something I always kinda wanted to do, anyway.” He sounded so nervous—terrified, even—shrinking into himself as he spoke as if each sentence made him more and more vulnerable to some hidden assailant waiting to attack. You continued your ministrations with the hopes of easing his fears a bit, wringing out the washcloth before adding more soap and running it along his chest. Even through the rough material, you could feel how fast his heart was beating.

“My parents, they…I've never really disappointed them like that before,” his voice cracked on the word “disappointed”, like it physically pained him to say. “I still don’t think they’ve really accepted it. They still look at me like…like I'm…”

He trailed off. He didn’t have to say it for your gut to wrench.

“Maybe once I graduate, they’ll think I'm worth something again.”

“Please, don’t talk like that,” you couldn’t hide your own distress. “You’re worth something as you are. It’s your future, Chan, not theirs.”

“But what if I can’t do it?” he whispered. “What if I just fail again? I’m so…so scared that I’m making the wrong decision.”

“It must be scary,” you agreed, gliding the washcloth along the tense curves of his arms. “Really hard, too. But that’s because you’re carving out your own path. No one else has walked it before you to clear out the way.”

He went quiet, and you took it as a sign to continue, a chance to keep swinging at the seemingly indestructible wall of self-doubt he’d so carefully crafted for years.

“You’re not alone, either,” you encouraged. “Think of Bin and Jisung and all that faith you have in them. Think of how much faith they must have in you to follow you down that path without question.”

If only he knew—if only he saw the admiration for him written all over their faces, oozing from every word they spoke. If only he knew the admiration you’d felt for him as early as when Changbin had first told you about him choosing music composition. Daring to take a route that, in many ways, was more challenging than even the most horrific of astrophysics courses. Not only that, but daring to flourish, leaving room for flowers to grow along the way wherever he roamed.

When Chan replied, you could've sworn you heard the faintest glimmer of hope in it. “I guess I never really thought of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way,” you chided softly. “I know you can do it. Just because others want you to do something, doesn’t mean it’s right. What’s right is what makes you happy.”

He loosened up further, welcoming your cleansing touch and your words of compassion more and more openly. You washed him in silence for another few minutes, debating in your head whether or not to keep pursuing the matter, to peel back another layer of him and get to his core.

“Were you…unhappy doing astrophysics?”

“Not exactly.” You got the feeling he could tell what you were really attempting to ask him. “I meant it when I said I liked it. That’s…not why I failed.”

You made a noise of understanding that masked the countless other things you wanted to say. He jolted just barely as you ventured down to clean his stomach, approaching his most sensitive area with a touch as gentle as it was deliberate. Care with a purpose.

“The…the person I was with, at the time,” he paused—whether to gather his thoughts, or to gauge your reaction, you weren’t entirely sure. Your eyes widened just a bit, but you kept your hand stubbornly occupied, scrubbing over his sore thighs. Like clockwork, they nearly closed in on each other. “She had a lot going on. Her mother was really sick; in and out of the hospital a lot.”

Even as dread stirred within you, like you knew exactly where this story was going, you left him space to continue.

“She just needed some help with everything she was dealing with in her life, y’know? I wanted to help.”

“I know you did,” you murmured. It was a given, one of the few certainties in life. Chan would always help, for no reason other than the fact that he could.

“I t-tried to be there for her. Took her wherever she needed to go, helped with her classes, visited her mother, looked after her little sister when she couldn’t,” he swallowed. “Then, around May, things got really bad. Her mom needed treatment for a few weeks, so I spent most of my time at the hospital or taking care of her sister.”

Something about the way he phrased it made you feel compelled to ask, “Where was she during that time?”

“Dunno,” he chuckled, humorless. “But I can probably guess.”

You stole a glance at his face. His eyes were open now, locked on the bubbly water and refusing to meet yours, like he might break all over again if he did. “In the end, I guess I didn't prepare well enough for my finals. Didn’t pass most of them. So I figured, if I was gonna be taking more semesters, anyway…i-if it wasn’t going to be perfect, I might as well start from scratch, y’know? Do it right this time.”

“Oh, Channie,” you rested your hand on his head. “That’s too much. That’s way too much.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t h—”

“No, no,” you didn’t even want to give him the chance to second-guess himself. “Please, don’t hold back. I’m listening.”

He was sugarcoating it, you knew he was. Even now, two years into the aftermath and still suffering the effects of it, he was trying to dismiss it all as something casual.

“What about her? What happened?”

Chan shrugged, reaching up for his ear. You didn’t push him as he fiddled with the silver hoop, instead taking the opportunity to grab your bottle of shampoo and squeeze some of the substance into your palm while he found the will to answer.

“When she found out I wasn’t graduating, she ended it,” he said at last. “Think it was already over, anyway. She was with someone else a few weeks later.”

“Oh my God.”

Through the haze that had been filling his head the entire night, your emotions still reached him with ease. “I brought it on myself, though,” he added quickly, as if the excuse—had it been even remotely correct—would’ve made it any better. “It was all just my own stupid choices. I can’t really say it’s her fault.”

Yes, you can. It took every ounce of self-control to stop yourself from pressing your nails into his head, just to avoid hurting him. You weren’t sure what drove the urge most: sympathy, protectiveness, fury. You couldn’t even begin to fathom it—you didn’t want to fathom it. To be presented with a heart as pure and honest as Chan’s, a love so selfless and sincere, only to trample all over it like it was worthless.

Despite the whirlwind that had spiraled to life inside you, you settled for something softer, a tenderness that, clearly, had been missing from his life thus far. You rubbed the shampoo delicately into his hair, swirling the dark curls around in a way that sent pleasurable ripples down his spine.

“It’s not your fault,” your tone left no room for debate. “Someone took advantage of your kindness. But showing that kindness? How could that possibly be your fault, Channie?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. You wondered if it was the first time he’d been told anything like that—whether by himself, or anyone else.

“I never do things for people to gain anything from it,” Chan began, and you knew, more than anything, that he meant it. “But…”

He hesitated, giving a quick shake of his head, as if to compose himself.

“But it hurts to be used.”

“Yeah. I understand.” You understood more than he could know, more than you could say in that moment. Tears had begun to well up in his eyes again, and for his own sake, you scooped up a portion of water in your hands and began to cleanse his head of the shampoo, letting the streams mask any fresh droplets that may trickle out.

“She never really did anything like this,” he said softly. “Most of the time, she’d just leave.”

Everything clicked into place. All the missing pieces of the puzzle, all at once, with each realization serving as another pang in your chest.

“Chan. I need you to know, right now, that this is what you deserve. All of this, and more.”

Faint sniffles and dripping water echoed throughout the bathroom. In this case, you welcomed it over his usual protests.

“I see everything you do, for me, and everyone else. You never give up on people, even with more than enough reason to,” you ran your hand through his hair, watching the wet ringlets slip through your fingers. “I admire that so much about you, but you still need to think of yourself once in a while. It’s not worth it—it’s never worth it to give your all to someone who will only see the empty husk left behind.”

Vaguely, you saw it, the slow nod of his head. It filled you with hope, the possibility that he might start to see himself the way you saw him, even if just a glimpse. Just a glimpse of him was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

“One day, all that kindness you put out into the world is gonna find you again. I promise.”

He turned his head to look up at you for the first time, eyes gleaming with something other than tears.

“I think it already has.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Neither of you said much as you continued bathing him, a quiet spell—comfortable, once more—passing between you and allowing everything that had been said to settle in your minds. You took your time conditioning Chan’s hair, giving each lush, beautiful curl the proper attention it deserved until you were fully satisfied. By the time you had finished rinsing him off, your legs were aching from sitting in the same, uncomfortable position for so long, and you were certain his were too. You helped him rise from the tub to the best of your ability, taking a moment to admire the streams of water traveling down his body before you passed him a towel.

As you re-entered your bedroom together, you immediately went to shut your window, not keen on creating even the slightest opportunity for Chan to catch another sickness. He was rocking on his heels again, looking seconds away from collapsing into your bed; he likely already would have if it weren’t for the fact that he was clad with nothing but a damp towel.

You dug around for a bit before locating a fresh pair of sweatpants he’d previously left at your place. When you presented them to him, he grinned for the first time that night.

“Been looking for these,” he commented. “They’re my favorite.”

“Well, they’re mine, now,” you teased. “But I can let you borrow them, I guess.”

To your surprise, he brought the garment up to his nose, and it took you a moment to register that he was breathing in the scent of your laundry detergent. It was almost ridiculous, how such a small action made you feel like your heart was going to erupt out of your chest.

The two of you settled into bed once he’d changed, and the exhaustion that had been gradually seeping down into Chan’s bones throughout the entire course of the night—even before that, probably—took over at last. You pulled the covers over your bodies, and he nestled into you before your head had even hit the pillow, his misgivings from your first night together nowhere to be found.

You prayed that he’d be able to sleep soundly tonight. His warmth washed over you, lulling you into dreams of your own. As you opened your mouth to wish him goodnight before your consciousness escaped you, you heard it. A mumble, just audible enough for you not to pass off as your own imagination.

“Think I love you.”

He was so drowsy that he may not have even noticed if you chose not to respond—you weren’t even sure if he noticed that he’d said it in the first place.

You rested your hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“I love you, too.”

Something twisted deep within you as you returned his words. Not because you didn’t mean them, but because you did.

#bang chan x reader #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #skz smut #sub!skz #sub!bang chan #sub!chan #dom!reader #skz x reader #skz angst #skz imagines #bang chan imagines

[miel-ji]

Nightmare

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: nightmare, crying, mention loss of loved one, grief

Summary: you were awoken by Chan because of a nightmare that you were having who tries to help you feel better and go back to sleep

A/N: I just think Chan is so perfect for this situation like he’s already such a comforting person that he’d know exactly what to do. Also, I had some really interesting titles in my docs but now all I can think of are basic T-T

Chan is a light sleeper. Always feeling on edge and like there’s something more to be done makes him this way, so the soft whimpers you were making in your sleep caused him to stir awake quickly. From the moonlight that illuminated your face and sliced through the pitch black darkness of your bedroom, Chan could see your eyelashes were wet with tears. In fact, there were tears escaping your closed eyelids now, and your cheeks were wet from where you’d been crying for a little bit. Worry quickly took over his features as he furrowed his brow, and his lips were pulled into a deep frown. He could feel his chest constrict with concern for you, and his heart squeezed when another soft cry fell from your lips.

You could feel yourself being pulled from your dream by a gentle shaking on your shoulder. When your senses finally came back to you, you felt something prickle your face. You reached up to brush it off, but to your surprise, you caught a tear that was streaking down your face. That’s when the events of your dream came flooding back to you.

Your hands mindlessly continued to wipe at the tears that spilled from your eyes after remembering that they had visited you again, and you had to relive the pain of losing them all over. You sucked in gulps of air trying to calm yourself down as sobs wracked your body. Through the midst of your breakdown, you could hear a gentle voice soothing you, and then arms pulling you against them to anchor you back in reality.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you…” Chan whispered softly against your temple, and he pressed soft kisses there. He cradled you against his chest and kept a firm arm around your back where he was rubbing soothing circles. You could feel your tears falling against his bare chest as you continued to work at breathing to calm yourself down. The scent of his body wash and him filled your nostrils and assisted with regulating your heart beat.

“I’m- ‘m sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you,” you managed to choke out in a broken sob once you found your voice, feeling bad that you had disrupted his sleep. You knew your boyfriend didn’t get much sleep as it was, and it was an even rarer occurrence for him to be able to spend the night with you. You hated that tonight of all nights you had to have one of those dreams. No nightmares.

Chan cupped your jaw, and his fingers rested in your hair as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears. You felt like you had no control over them as they kept pouring out of you despite your best efforts. He stroked your cheek, and his touch was feather light, trying to be as gentle as possible with you. “You can wake me whenever you need me, Y/n. I promise.” You could hear his voice rumble in his chest, and you shifted to wrap an arm across his middle. You were halfway lying on top of him now with your legs tangled in the sheets, and he smoothed your hair down while you breathed shakily.

Being so close to him was exactly what you needed. Having his strong arms wrapped around you and being surrounded by his scent was exactly what you needed. He was your safety and your home, and you could feel your chest slow down. Your breathing was slowly becoming even. “There you go, baby girl. That’s it. Breathe.” He was smoothing your hair down and gently brushing through it with his fingers. His other arm was hooked around your waist, and he squeezed you reassuringly. “Inhale…” he took a deep breath, and you did the same trying to match his breathing. “Exhale…” you sank down with his chest as he expelled the air from his lungs, and you let him guide you through this a few more times.

“Thank you, Chan…” you still felt a dull ache in your chest as the feelings from your dream lingered, but you were thankful for your boyfriend who was there to help you through it. You probably looked like a mess with your tear-stained face and tangled hair. You didn’t want to move from Chan’s bubble, and right now, you didn’t really care. He didn’t really seem to care either as he just held you closer and kissed the top of your head.

“I just want you to be okay,” he mumbled, and the hint of sadness in his voice caused you to chance a look up at him. He looked angelic in the moonlight that highlighted one side of his face and cast shadows on the other. You lifted up from him just a little to shift further up his body. You gently massaged in between his eyebrows that were still tight with worry.

“I’m okay, love. I’m okay now.” You watched as his face relaxed against your touch. You leaned down, and lightly kissed his beautiful heart-shaped lips. He kissed you back slowly falling into a rhythm perfected by time. “Promise,” you mumbled against his lips.

He carefully slid you off of him and laid you back against your pillow. You shivered a little from the lack of his body warmth, and he pulled the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was getting harder to keep them open until you felt the space beside you was empty. You frowned and peered up at Chan’s silhouette stretching by the bed, “where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting you some water, baby.”

“But I want you to stay.”

“I’ll be super fast that the bed won’t even have time to get cold.”

You wanted to protest further, but you knew you were a little dehydrated from all the crying you just did. You now became aware of the throbbing that had settled behind your eyes, and the lump in your throat you couldn’t seem to swallow. You just nodded your head, and let your eyes slip closed again. Chan wasn’t lying when he said he’d be fast because within a minute, you could feel the bed dip beside you, “hey, baby?”

“Hm?”

“Can you sit up for me?”

You yawned softly before sitting up in the bed, not quite ready to open your eyes. You could hear a small giggle from Chan, and he cooed, “cute.” Your lips curled up into a little smile as you swayed from sleepiness. You had expected Chan to hand you a water bottle when you felt a soft cloth pressed against your face. Your face was no longer wet with tears, but he had still grabbed a washcloth to help you feel more refreshed.

He took extra care of gently wiping your cheek, “my beautiful baby.” He moved to wipe the other cheek, “love of my life.” He even smoothed the cloth over your forehead, “perfect angel.” He finished off his praises by tucking your hair behind your ears, and you finally opened your eyes. You were a strong person having faced your fair share of hardships and managing to pick yourself back up again, but you made up your mind that you always wanted Chan there to help you through them from now on. And you wanted to be the person that helped him through them as well.

You found him looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes that you wanted to cry again, but this time because you were overflowing with love for this man. You gazed back into his eyes and hoped that you were able to convey the same to him. He unscrewed the top from the water bottle and handed it over to you, “will you drink some for me, baby?” You took the water bottle from him and took a sip which made you realize how thirsty you actually were. You took a couple of more big gulps, and you could feel your headache instantly ease up. You took the cap from him to put it back on the bottle, and place it on your bedside table.

You finally were able to retreat back to the warmth of your blankets, and you felt Chan settle down beside you. He let out a little sigh as he tucked you into the crook of his arm and once again pulled the covers up over your shoulders. You returned back to your position of your arm slung across his middle and legs entwined with his. His one arm was against your back again, the other rested on top of yours that was around his middle to keep you in place against him. You felt warm and light on the inside and out as you let sleepiness wash over you again.

You were sure Chan had already fallen asleep since his breathing slowed, and he hadn’t said anything in awhile. Your eyes closed once again, and a peaceful silence filled the room. You could feel yourself slowly drifting off again before your boyfriend’s voice called out to you.

“Y/n,” his voice was deep and raspy with sleep.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, you were both finally able to fall asleep again. All the negative feelings of before were forgotten as Chan, as always, made you feel nothing but safe and loved.

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids bang chan #bang chan #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #skz #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x y/n #skz x reader #skz imagines

[kisskissbanggang]

Disavowed - pt. 8 - The Epilogue

[4.6k Words/16min. Read - Incubus!Chris x Succubus!Reader - NSFW/Smut - Churches, Unholy Callings, Sorting Out Our Feelings, Arguments, Make-Up Sex, Cunnilingus, Motel Sex, Getting What You Want, High Rewards]

[a/n: ty to @therhythmafterthesummer and @magicficwriting for beta reading and previewing this series💗]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Come Say Hi!]

𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴. 𝘛𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭–𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘢𝘨𝘰. 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘯.

𝘐’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘐’𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘺 𝘑𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬.

𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘮𝘦.

𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘉𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘗𝘦𝘢𝘬, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭.

𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱? 𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘰.

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵. 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘏𝘪𝘮 𝘐’𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦.

𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢.

𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘉𝘰𝘹, 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 “𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳.

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘑 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵. 𝘗𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘺.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵.

╚⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷╝

You nearly spit out your beer when you saw Chris in the crowd, but you tried to maintain your composure. Your “just friends” date for the night, Ambrose, on the other hand, almost jumped out of his skin.

“Janie, baby, you been avoiding me?” Chris smirked while he approached, thumbs hooked in his belt. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, doing your best to look more annoyed than nervous. After all, you did tell him to come after you himself.

Ambrose looked from you, to Chris, to you again. “You know this guy?”

Chris nodded emphatically. “Yeah, we sure do–”

“No, we don’t,” you stubbornly interrupted.

“That’s my girlfriend, you prick,” Chris antagonized, shit-eating grin and all when he grabbed Ambrose by the sleeve and pulled him up from his chair.

You shook your head in denial, getting Ambrose’s other arm. “That is not true, you asshole,” you scoffed, but it was too late. Ambrose looked between both of you again, yanked his arms free of your and Chris’ grips, and booked it out the front door. Chris looked so pleased when you glared at him, that you were proud of yourself when you simply grabbed your bag and walked out, leaving him panicking.

The night was freezing when you got out on the main road, and for a second, you wondered if Chris wouldn't follow you. This was proven to be foolish, though, when you heard the rumble of an engine behind you. Sure enough, Chris pulled up in his truck alongside you, and rolled the passenger side window down.

“There!” he shouted at you. “I did what you said and I found you. Now are you going to get in the truck or am I going to have to come get you?”

Chris groaned loud in frustration when you resumed walking down the sidewalk, but you almost smiled delightedly when he started inching the truck along, keeping pace with you. This was a tale as old as time, and the two of you painted a classic picture of a messy couple airing all their garbage in public.

“Janie!” he yelled again, still using your new name. “Get in the truck, damn it!”

You folded your arms indignantly, walking in the direction of your motel. Finally, he seemed to get the idea.

“Are you mad at me?!”

He was gawking at you as if he never considered this before, but you were pleased that he got it nonetheless. 

So you allowed him one reward. You instantly stopped walking and waited for Chris to hit the brakes, lean over, and open the passenger side door. He sighed when you climbed onto the bench seat beside him, perhaps out of relief, but then you resumed being stubbornly quiet. Neither of you said a word as he continued driving down the main road. You tried reading his thoughts but, maddeningly, found you couldn’t. Regardless, this felt nice, being close to him again. Your attraction had been magnetic and far too accelerated, but now it felt like you had time to enjoy figuring this guy out, and maybe who he was to you, after all.

Even though you were still pissed at him.

Chris pulled into the motel parking lot without needing to be directed, and you almost wondered why before you realized he probably was staying there, too. Some towns, it turned out, were not as interested in renting out rooms or turning their homes into bed and breakfasts. He was still wearing this puzzled, grumpy frown when he turned off the truck.

“... Is this because I messed up your trap back there?”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, letting yourself out of the truck and slamming the door. 

Chris fumbled out after you and barely managed to catch the sleeve of your coat. “What?! Just tell me–”

“You abandoned me, Chris!” you all but screamed at him, throwing your bag and hitting him square in the chest so he would let you go. “Twice! Did you know Jisung was into that occult shit?!” The way Chris’ cheeks reddened did not bode well for him. “Well?!”

He bit his lip, suddenly finding it hard to meet your gaze. Your bag was clutched in his hand at his side. “... Yeah. I did.”

You balked at him, mouth flapping open and closed at the confirmation. “So did you also know he set me up to be exorcized?”

Chris sighed. He was fully looking at his feet by now. “Yeah,” he admitted.

“Incredible,” you laughed in disbelief. Reaching for him, you snatched your bag back, digging around inside to look for your motel key while you walked up to your room.

“Look,” he pleaded, following you there to your door, “I know that was a lot. I’m sorry–”

“You asshole,” you hissed, shoving him back. It was hard to breathe for some reason. “It wasn’t just a lot, Chris! It was fucking terrifying. All I wanted was a night with you and you went and turned me into… into–”

“I had to,” he tried to say. “You’re perfect–”

“Stop saying that!”

“I’m not just saying it!” he insisted. Reaching for you, he tried to hold your hand. “You really are–”

“Well I don’t want to be!” you snapped. Embarrassingly, you were on the brink of tears. But, then again, so was Chris. “That night in the church,” you shakily told him, “was terrible, Chris. And before that, that whole mess with Jisung, that was fucking horrible, too, but that night! I saw you get shot, asshole! And Jisung, he–and Father James, too, he tried to–”

You were crying by now.

You both were.

“I know, baby,” he tried to console you.

“Yeah!” you sarcastically laughed in his face. “I know you know! You let it happen! You told me you love me and then you vanished and I had to do everything on my own–”

“I HAD TO.”

You stared, eyes shaking. Chris looked ashamed of his own outburst. His own eyes were red and watering. Both of you sniffled pathetically in the cold night air.

“You had to,” you repeated.

Chris nodded.

“You had to,” you said again, “says who…?”

Silently, still looking at the ground, Chris lifted his hand, pointing a finger and gesturing downward.

“Because of Him.”

You raised an eyebrow, more than dubious. “Him? Oh, come on–”

“Would you ‘come on?’” Chris asked, agitated and rolling his eyes. “All this, everything you and I can do. It’s all Him.”

You paused uncomfortably, folding your arms across your chest and leaning back against the door to your motel room. “So… that night in your attic. That was… Him.”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I was sort of, uhm… in trouble. Big trouble.”

“How was that?”

“I, uh,” Chris began, uneasy. “You and I? This isn’t normal. I didn’t expect you to be so–”

“Do not say perfect.”

“Shut up,” he scolded. “I was going to say you’re unexpectedly potent. It’s kind of overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes back at him. “That sounds ridiculous.”

“It feels ridiculous. And, I dunno. Maybe I fell for you.”

The way your heart ached felt horribly vulnerable. “I’m guessing that’s the part that isn’t normal,” you winced.

“Not at all,” Chris said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t supposed to leave you alone like that. But when you were pissed at me and started going after the reverend–I dunno–I was hoping you would get there on your own.”

“And yet you waited a ludicrous amount of time to try and save me from a literal exorcism?” you scoffed, shaking your head and opening the door to your motel room, ready to end this exhausting conversation.

“I thought it might be the final push you needed!” he argued defensively, grabbing onto your sleeve again.

You yanked your arm back. “But it wasn’t! You sent me back alone and made me forget you!”

“You didn’t want the right thing yet!” Chris argued. “You wanted revenge; you didn’t want to punish or expose or anything else we do–”

“Of course I wanted revenge!” you cried. “You saw what they did to me!”

When you tried pulling away again, Chris reeled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as he tried to calm you down. “I’m sorry,” he tried apologizing.

“I hate that you sent me back,” you stubbornly continued, your voice half-muffled by his shoulder. “I hate that you made me forget you!”

“I know, I’m sorry!” Chris repeated. “I just wanted–”

“What do you want, you jerk?!”

You shoved him off again, leaving Chris standing in the doorway of your motel room. His hands clenched into nervous fists. 

“What do I want?” he repeated, almost like he was thinking about it. When he took your hand once again, you let him this time. As much as you hated this whole exchange, you missed how good it felt to have Chris go mad over you. “I want… I want you.”

The still air between you was heavy when Chris reeled you in closer, until he was cupping your face in his warm hands. “Yeah,” he continued, reassuring himself. “I want you.”

You allowed him to kiss you, and the way that he was so gentle, so nearly hesitant, told you that maybe he sensed that, and he respected it when you pushed him away. The collar of his sweater under his coat was balled in your hand and you still held onto him despite driving space between you. This was a lot to take in.

“Tell me more,” you softly ordered, drawing him in for another short kiss before pushing him back again.

Chris tentatively swung the door shut behind him and hazarded another kiss, his lips chasing yours when you reluctantly tried to lean away. “That first morning after, when you caught me at communion,” he breathed, getting needier by the second and shepherding you back onto the dresser, “the way you looked at me scared the shit out of me. You saw me and you knew who I was.”

“And I’m guessing that’s not normal, either?” you asked, and you almost let yourself get carried away by the way Chris impulsively kissed your neck, the way he pulled you closer and closer and closer like he could pull you into himself. You kicked him off and busied yourself with trying to peel off his coat or at least peek under it.

“Not normal in the slightest,” he answered. “What was weirder was–what are you doing?”

“I’m looking for a mark,” you frowned. “Like the one I have, the one you gave me. Don’t you have one?”

You could feel the scar on your chest pulsing under your sweater. Chris’ expression sparked with understanding and he easily shucked off his jacket before tugging off his sweater and the shirt underneath. You were suddenly mortified to realize you’d never had a waking memory of this man half-naked before, but he was–just as he ever was–completely gorgeous. Chris turned around then, showing you a similar mark pulsing low on the nape of his neck. His was long, a teardrop tapering down to a thin, scant point in the middle of his back. You sucked in a sympathetic gasp and reached out, feeling the mark with your fingers.

“Looks like it hurt,” you observed.

Chris grinned over his shoulder. “It, uh, wasn’t fun. You got off easy.”

“What about Jisung?” you asked curiously. 

“That?” Chris asked distantly, already capitalizing on your lack of resolve and coming back between your knees where you sat on the dresser. “I’m sure you started catching on by now. You’re sort of just letting energy out when you do that. Jisung wanted to be a creep, so he became more of a creep. But my mark? Your mark? They’re like little dog tags.”

“That we belong to Him?” you giggled. “And no energy release?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his glazed eyes laying their focus on your collarbones. “Wait–I mean no–well, it's sort of like that. It's more like a confirmation. You wanted destruction, so you started seeking more destruction.”

“Destruction?” you laughed in surprise, and again when Chris kissed your neck some more. The skin of his back was soft over his defined shoulder blades, and you found yourself absently stroking the mark between his shoulders. “What the hell did I want to destroy?!”

“Well, I mean,” Chris babbled while he tried to push your jacket down off your arms, “it’s felt like you wanted to destroy me from the moment you met me.”

“It’s just really fun to mess with you,” you corrected him, leaning him back a little so you could go ahead and slip off your sweater. Chris’ gaze nearly swallowed you whole.

“All I really did was give you the opportunity to do so,” he humbly denied when he grappled you close again, and attempted another kiss on your lips this time. You both sighed contentedly into each other when you permitted it, like you were both stretching an aching muscle by letting yourselves chase this rush. Chris’ hands were restless, caressing you and squeezing you before ultimately wrestling with the button of your jeans. His eyes widened when you kicked him off again, a sleepwalker rudely awakened and tripped backwards down onto his knees while you took care of your jeans yourself. However, you didn’t let him dive right back into you again. You shoved your foot into his shoulder, holding him back, but he took this in stride, taking it upon himself to remove your shoes for you.

“How do I know I can trust you?” you asked, all while you shimmied your jeans down and off. Shamefully, your eyes were glued to Chris’ hands fumbling his belt buckle. “I mean, you can't blame me. You confessed your feelings and then left me to fend for myself. Do you even love me?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I do,” he chuckled, sounding more like a sigh. He got the buckle of his belt open a moment later, drawing your attention there again. “I hate it as much as you do. Silly shit like love is a huge drain of resources in our line of work. I guarantee that with how easy you've had it since I sent you back, your fall would’ve been damn near painless if I didn’t go stupid over you in the first place.”

You loved that, Chris going “stupid” over you, and maybe he was aware of that, considering the way he held you by the ankle, cradling your leg while he kissed his way up your skin. 

“Let me get this straight,” you smirked. “You love me and want me? What next, you want to be my boyfriend? We'll go on little dates and have anniversaries?”

Chris shrugged casually despite the way he was ghosting his lips over your heat. “I’ll be honest, I’d be okay with just being your whipping boy.”

“Don’t be dumb,” you pretended to scold him, before his tongue searching you out between your legs made you gasp. Chris held on to your thighs where he had you pinned against the dresser, his intrepid mouth thoroughly interrupting and distracting you. “How long have you been like this? Maybe Barrett Bluffs was your handiwork.”

He leaned back on his heels, the pads of his fingers taking over while he cocked an eyebrow at you. “Now who’s being dumb?” he scoffed, but it was difficult to tell if he was being facetious. “I’ve been like this for years but only this body for one or two.”

“What happens when we’re… done? With these bodies?” you asked, still stuck on the subject even though Chris was deftly rubbing your sensitive clit.

“There’s still plenty of mileage in yours,” he easily explained before helping himself to another lick of you and pulling an involuntary moan out of you in return. “I quite literally needed one when I fell, thus the body-hopping. But you can change whenever you want. It’s just, you know, like a car or a new place. Doesn’t feel good to change too often.”

You brushed your fingers through Chris’ hair and tugged him up to look at you again. Holding onto the dresser to steady yourself, you slipped off and onto his lap where he was sitting back on his heels. He held you in his arms and let you kiss his face. “What happened when you fell? It sounds like it was rough.”

Chris’ ears tinged red at the question and he looked away, shaking his head with a forlorn laugh. “That’s a story for another time. How was your fall?”

“I hated it,” you admitted. “If it happened when I think I did. Everything came back to me all at once, in the middle of me fucking Jisung.”

The grip on your waist tightened and Chris didn’t obscure his frown at the mention of the reverend again. He slowly got up to his feet, just enough to fall back onto the bed, and pulled you up with him. You followed his needy tug, climbing on top of him and sitting astride his hips. His warm hands slid around your waist and up your back to hug you close to him. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he murmured into your neck. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you agreed, “but I think it’s a testament to how badly I got to you.” You felt him out, easing his jeans down and getting a solid grip on his hard-on. Chris was fully keyed up, almost trembling in the already cold air of the motel room as you teased him into you, so nearly taking him in your depths but not quite.

“Come on,” he pleaded, “give it to me, please.”

You kissed his brow, continuing to grind your wet entrance against the leaking tip of his erection. “Tell me again. I like hearing it. I like hearing you love me.”

Chris’ eyes were squeezed shut in the sweetest way, like he wanted to feel every second you’d give him. He nodded, one short dip of his chin and then a more confident gesture following it. “I do,” he told you. “I love you–oh fuck–”

Your reaction was practically the same once you made good on your word and slipped him deep inside you in one smooth motion. Both of you shuddered and cursed, the way you fit together making your heads spin.

“I’ll be honest,” Chris croaked, trying to focus on anything else besides how good you felt, “I’ve thought of what we could do together now that I caught up with you.”

You grinned while you rocked your hips against his, earning you a strained groan from him. “Yeah?” you asked breathlessly. “What does He think of team jobs?”

“I don’t think He particularly cares,” he panted, still refusing to open his eyes, “This is part of the reward, if we want it. More freedom to do what we want. So now he’s more of a parole officer than a boss. What do you say?”

“Depends,” you taunted in his ear, “how do I know you won’t abandon me again?”

“Now that you fell?” he laughed in response. “Why the hell would I leave you alone? Look what you’ve been up to without me here.”

“I guess I could use a guard dog,” you joked, getting a pinch in return that made you jump, and the impromptu angle made both of you cry out in surprised pleasure. “You expecting anything from me in return?”

“Your love?” he suggested, but the flush in his cheeks instantly deepened. “If that’s okay–or I’m joking. I mean, I’d stay regardless–”

“No no,” you shook your head, “it’s okay. I think I can do that.”

You met Chris’ eye then, the rock of your bodies in unison slowing to a stop. His hands affectionately squeezed your hips. Your mind swirled with the rush of your feelings for him. Did you love him? As you’d recognized before, your attraction had been instant and magnetic, and maybe should’ve served as a harbinger of the otherworldly elements at play. Every time he burned you, it made you want him more, and it was clear that the drama of it all kept him torturously attached to you. This wasn’t exactly cute or pretty, this situation you had going on with Chris.

But it felt like he wanted you exactly as you were.

And you wanted him, too.

Chris gasped and whined when you rolled the two of you over on the musty motel bed, and now he lay in between your legs. “So what,” he smirked, trying not to think about how perfectly you wrapped around him, “are you going to tell me you love me?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. Your fingers curled around the scruff of his neck to pull him down, catching his lips in another kiss as you thrust against him from underneath and earning the sweetest whimper from him as reward. “Have you ever fucked outside of a human body?”

“Like in my natural form?” he asked curiously. He was almost thankful that you were extending him this little grace period to enjoy this a while longer. “I have, but–”

“Don’t you say it–”

“It feels really good with you, even with the meat suit. Like, unfathomably good.” 

“You done it with anyone else like me?”

“Not like this,” Chris said, kissing you again. “It’s taking everything in me to not finish right this second.”

“What if you finish me off first?” you teased.

“Now we’re talking,” he groaned, set as he was on his new goal and kissing your neck again before leaning up, giving himself a good angle to not only thrust into you, but spread you open so he could rub your overstimulated bundle of nerves. He worked you over in this position for a solid few minutes, never waning for more than a moment so you could build up to your peak. When you cried out suddenly, grabbing desperately onto his hands to stop or keep going or something, he simply slowed down to a methodical, rhythmic circling that drew out your climax.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a monster,” you gasped, heaving for breath. Chris beamed proudly before he wrapped your legs tight around him and began thrusting deeper into your core. “Chris-!” you exclaimed. “Don’t you need a break–”

“No no no,” he insisted in quick succession under his breath. “I need it, I need you so bad, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Because it’s so perfect?” you mused.

Chris nodded dumbly, lost in the moment. “In more ways than one, baby.”

You angled your hips and brought him down to kiss you once again. “Then do it, Chris. Finish for me–”

The air was almost knocked out of you with the force of his final thrust, surprising Chris with its suddenness when he came and arrived at his crescendo without focusing on it. His hips stuttered, and his brow furrowed cutely before he leaned down, capturing your lips and tongue as he groaned and exulted little praises while he rocked against you in the aftershocks.

A cool, comfortable silence of convalescence draped over you both, and Chris collapsed onto the bed beside you as you drew up the duvet to cover you both. He laid his head on your breast, his ear against your heartbeat while you both caught your breath. You could get used to this.

“I’m so relieved I caught up to you,” he quietly, sleepily told you. “Do you understand all this, by the way? Me? You? What you’ve been given?”

You thought about this as you looked at the old, worn popcorn ceiling of the motel, and then out at the hazy street lamp-lit roads of Shale Meadows. On the hill, out in the distance, was the local chapel. Just seeing it filled you with anticipation and excitement. You stroked Chris’ hair as he hugged an arm around your middle.

“Yeah, I understand,” you nodded. “And I want more.”

Chris looked up at you. His expression wasn’t just adoration, lust, infatuation, or even love–it was pride, too. “You can have whatever you want, baby.”

You were floating through the afterglow to such a degree that you decided to be content believing him. If you could have him, then yes, you could probably have whatever you wanted. Chris kissed you one more time before laying on your chest again, and soon enough you could feel his breath slow as he fell asleep.

You looked back out the window, thrilled that you finally wouldn’t wake up without him. 

#neverendingdreams #straykidsland #bang chan smut #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan breakdown #this has been such an amazing experience to develop and write this thank you all 💗so💗 much

[starlostastronaut]

DAY 03 | A STATE OF MIND

PAIRING: bang chan x reader

GENRE: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

WC: 1.76k

CW: (not only) appearance insecuritues (chan), mentions of hate comments, implied panic attack/mental breakdown (chan), there's crying, and lot of kisses, y/n used like once, chan gets called baby

PROMPT: you're beatiful - the rose

well, the angst is here. trust me to take a cute song and turn it into this lol. i promise it gets better as we go, and i don't really go into much detail, but still mind the cw. i still hope you enjoy <3

title from you're beatiful - the rose

general masterlist here

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You knocked on the door to the 3RACHA + Hyunjin dorm. Tapping your foot against the ground, you waited for one of the boys to let you in. “Come on, guys, come on,” you murmured, growing more and more impatient with every second that passed. This truly was the worst time to forget your keys at home. But you were in such a hurry to get here that the thought of bringing anything but the absolute essentials, such as your phone or the keys to your own apartment, hadn't crossed your mind until you were halfway to the dorm.

When Changbin called you twenty minutes ago, begging you to come over, you weren’t thinking straight. As soon as Chan's name was mentioned, you grabbed your stuff and ran out the door. Poor Changbin didn't even get to finish what was so urgent, but that didn't matter. You will find out when you go there. What mattered was the fact that something was going on with Chan, and you were too far away from him. So there you were, in the hallway of the Stray Kids’ apartment complex, standing in front of the door like an idiot. Just as you were starting to entertain the thought of busting the door down, the doorknob moved and revealed Minho in a similarly distressed state as you. His hair was messy, his hoodie rumpled, and there were a few faint damp patches around his chest and shoulders.

“Thank god you're here.” Minho let out a sigh of relief, ushering you to come inside and towards Chan's room, not even pointing out the fact that you didn't take off your shoes. Oh, so this was really serious then. Minho was very particular about these sorts of things, so the fact that he now completely ignored one of his precious house rules spoke volumes on its own. Walking through the apartment, you noticed the rest of the members sitting or standing around, looking similarly uneasy. Hyunjin and Jisung paused their murmured conversation with Changbin to give you a small wave as a greeting, which you returned. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seungmin comforting a crying Jeongin, but before you could inspect the scene further, you were dragged away by Minho. “Yongbok is with him right now, but he keeps asking for you,” the dancer said, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and gently nudging you towards the closed door.

“Um… Do you mind telling me what exactly happened? I kind of rushed here before Changbin got the chance to explain.” You ran your hand through your hair, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

Minho didn't make a big deal out of it. “It's been a hard few weeks for him. And you know how he is, he never tells us anything and keeps it bottled up. I don't know what set it off, but with the deadlines closing in three days and the haters getting more active lately, I guess it got too much. He broke down about an hour ago, and we don't know what to do,” he explained with the same sad and worried tone he greeted you with. You nodded, and Minho carefully opened the door.

Felix raised his head to the noise, and his eyes sparked up when he saw you. Though it wasn't the usual spark in his eyes, this time it was much more bittersweet. I'm glad you're here, and I'm sorry I can't help more. “Chris, Y/N is here,” Felix whispered in English, gently running his fingers through Chan's hair to make him acknowledge the information.

Watching the whole scene unfold in front of you, you could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces. The two boys were sitting on the bed, Chan cuddled up to Felix. At least he wasn't crying anymore, so that was already a step in a better direction. He still had his face buried in the younger one's chest, though. One of Felix's arms was steadily wrapped around Chan, while the other was now massaging his scalp. Chan looked so small and vulnerable, curled up into a ball like that. You had to fight every urge to run over there, pry him out of Felix's arms, and never let go again. But you knew you had to approach carefully.

Kneeling down next to the bed, you gently ran your hand around Chan's back, letting him know you're here. "Baby," you whispered. “Baby, it's me. Can you look at me, please?’ you said, getting up on the bed as well. Felix gave you a weak smile, and slowly, with so much care, he disentangled himself from Chan, who immediately latched onto you, grabbing you with a force you didn't think he was capable of right now. You didn't even notice Felix and Minho leaving the room; all your attention was focused on your boyfriend the moment you saw him.

“Want to tell me what happened?” you gently asked, hugging Chan tighter when he shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to just hold you for a while. You nodded with a sad smile. “Of course.” He'll tell you later, if he wants to. For now, you would just hold him, knowing that just your presence helped him. He said many times in the past that just being close to you always made him feel better. But now that saying has reached a completely new, heartbreaking level. You watched Chan get comfortable with a stinging pain in your chest. It hurt to see him like this, clinging to you like he's drowning and you're the only thing keeping him above the water.

For a while, you just stayed, intertwined with one another. For the whole time, your fingers gently brushed through Chan's soft curls because you knew it always helped to ground him. As the minutes passed, you felt how Chan's breathing slowly steadied, and he was coming out of his current state. 

Feeling him move, you smiled and helped him into a more sitting position, but you still kept your firm hold on him. Reaching over for the bottles of water Minho brought in some time ago, you handed one to Chan. “Feeling better, baby?”  

He took the bottle and opened it, bringing it to his lips. He set it back down and nodded in response to your question. “I'm sorry… Don't know what…” he mumbled. “The deadlines and comments... It was too much.” 

“Shh, it's okay.” You began stroking his hair again. “They're wrong. Whatever they said to you, they're wrong.”

Chan looked at you. His eyes, always so sparkly and happy, were now heavy with sadness. “They said that I'm not a good leader. That I don't deserve to be an idol because I'm ugly with no talent,” he whispered.

You felt a burst of anger inside you. “Channie,” you said, more insistent this time. One of your hands came to rest on his jaw, your thumb gently caressing his cheek, while the other interlocked your fingers with his, holding his hand tightly. “They're wrong. You're a great leader. No one loves the boys more than you, and we both know you'll do anything for them. You take care of them, of me, of other artists in your company. You protect them when it's needed, and you help them grow and achieve their own success outside of the group. Are those the qualities of a bad leader?” 

Chan shook his head slightly. 

“Exactly. You are the best leader they could ever ask for.” You smiled at him, hoping to convey how much you loved and appreciated him with that one smile. And it might have worked. His face lit up a tiny bit. Blink and you would have missed it, but at this point in your relationship, you were so accustomed to Chan that you sometimes felt like you could read his mind.

“And I don't know who said that other thing, but they need their eyes checked,” you continued. “You are beautiful, Chan, inside and out. From your adorable curly hair..." You reached to kiss the top of his head. “Over your eyes, your nose, your entire face, to your lips.” After every feature, you placed a kiss on that spot, and your heart swelled with happiness when you heard soft giggles coming out of Chan at the fact that he was being showered with kisses all over his face. “And even if the haters don't think that, who cares? Their opinion doesn’t matter. Beauty is much more than looks. It's the personality as well. You have thousands of fans ready to tell you the same because it's true, but you need to believe it yourself. Please try, for me?”

You leaned in to press a final kiss on Chan's lips. When you pulled away, you noticed tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. “Oh god no,” you murmured. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Just as you thought he was getting better, you made him cry again.

“Happy tears. It's happy tears,” Chan quickly said, noticing you getting into your head. “It's okay, you didn't do anything,” he assured you, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“I should be the one telling you that,” you chuckled, cupping his face in your hands and wiping the tears away. 

“Can't have you steal all the spotlight, can I?"

That did get a full laugh out of you. A joke. That meant Chan was coming back. “I'm glad you're feeling better,” you said, your voice sweet and sincere.

“Thank you. For being here and... and helping. I promise I'll try for you,” Chan said, and you lit up at his words. It was going to be a long and difficult road, for sure, but this was already a huge step in the right direction. Then he yawned and snuggled up closer to you. You stroked his back a few times. It was understandable. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. “I'll go tell the boys you're okay, and then I'll come back so we can sleep, okay?”

You got a murmured okay in response. Smiling, you gently laid Chan down on the bed and gave him a last kiss into his hair before walking towards the door. When you looked over your shoulder before exiting the room, he was curled to himself just like before, but this time his breathing was slow and steady, his face calm, as his body was finally ready to let go and relax.

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©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff

[justwonder113]

Showering Changbin with affection

Bang Chan; Lee Know; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

Summary: After having the worst possible day all you want is your Binnie

Warning: reader is having mental breakdown and feels emotional. Reader and Changbin had a fight but nothing serious. Reader is gender neutral. Reader is whipped( who can blame them), shy Changbin. Word count-1321

A/N- I really hope y'all like it! I can't express how thankful I am for all the notes and reblogs, your support means everything! I really hope you'll like this one, I think you can tell Changbin has been bias wrecking me a lot these days. I'll try to write new parts as soon as I can. If you have any requests feel free to tell🩷

Today couldn't have been any worse. It was like everyone went the opposite way you wanted it to go. It felt as if luck had turned it's back on you. You couldn't even count how many times you got close to having mental breakdown and fullblown anxiety attack. All you wanted to do was to go home, get under the covers and cry your eyes out. Maybe after that you could nap, for at least 24 hours.

Truth be told, there was something you wanted more than being bundled up in your bed. It was to be in your boyfriends arms right now, to feel his presence near you, to have him close. But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. First of all, you two had a fight earlier, about something you didn't even remember. You two had said your sorrys but things were still a little tense between you. Blame it on your pride and pettiness, your small fight got out of hand pretty quickly and both of you said things that you didn't mean, and sorrys just couldn't cut it. You both needed time.

And even if you two hadn't thought, you wouldn't be able to see him, because of his busy schedule. God it was hard sometimes dating an idol. The best he could do probably right now was to call you.

Walking into your house, you couldn't help but sign with relief. You quickly, discarded your wet clothes, because yes, it also had to rain to day, the day you didn't have your umbrella with you. A shiver ran down your spine at the touch of cold air against your skin. You quickly went to shower to warm up and prevent yourself from catching cold.

After long steamy shower, which almost managed to wash your stress away, you quickly got dressed into your fluffiest pyjamas and got under the covers. Your empty stomach growled in protest, as if aware you were planning to sleep without eating anything, but you still chose to ignore it. You really didn't have the energy to concern yourself with that. All you wanted to do was to sleep.

You grabbed your Dwaekki and held it close to your chest, as if that was enough to replace your boyfriend, and that's when the dam broke. You couldn't help but cry your heart out, everything was stressing you, even just simply breathing felt like it was too hard to do, like it took too much energy, just existing seemed beyond hard. You really needed your Binnie, your rock, your everything.

You were so busy crying your soul out, you didn't even hear your door opening, didn't even feel the smell of your favorite takeout, didn't even hear soft steps approaching your bed. You were bought back to reality when you felt your bed dip and familiar voice of your boyfriend called out your name softly filled with concern.

Throwing all thoughts aside you three yourself at him and engulfed him in the biggest, tightest hug ever. It caught Changbin by surprise but he quickly came back to his senses and wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you so close to him you were now sat in his lap. The second you felt his warmth engulf you, the second the familiar scent filled your nose, the second you realized it was your Changbin holding you this tight, you finally felt whole again. The tears still kept streaming down your face and blurred your sight but now they were out of pure joy, no longer from pain and torment you felt earlier. "Binnie" you sobbed out his name, wanting to sort everything out between you, but talking seemed like an impossible task in your state. Changbin kissed your temple, his right hand shifted from your waist and started stroking you from between your shoulder blades down your spine. The urge to just melt between his arms kept getting stronger and stronger by second, his touch sent shivers down your spine. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of your ribcage at the mere sight of him. Your whole body had ignited you were not sure Changbin understood just what he meant for you, what he did to you, and you were not sure you would be able to ever tell tell him with words.

"Breathe for me pretty baby" Changbin kept muttering against your temple, while occasionally pressing soft kisses against it, "that's it, good job sweetie." Whetherbthe possibility of a human melting into a puddle was possible you would find out any given second now.

After god knows how many minutes after you finally managed and got yourself together. "You good baby?! Wanna tell me what happened?" Changbin asked after he noticed you were no longer shaking.

"I'm good baby," your voice came out dry and strained, Changbin quickly leaned away and reached for the water bottle you had on your bedside table. Only after chugging it down you realized how thirsty you had been. "Sorry you must be tired. It's just..." You took a deep breath, not trusting your voice to come out steady, "today was just the worst." Changbin hugged you tightly and hid your face in the crook of his neck, knowing it comforted you, you immediately relaxed into the hug. "Nonsense baby" you only now realized how tired he sounded, "Don't apologize, you didn't nothing wrong." Hearing him say this brought fresh Waves of emotion over you.

"I missed you!" You couldn't help but bawl, "let's not fight anymore!" He huffed out laugh after hearing your dramatic outburst. He kissed your shoulder gently, after a second or two he put his finger under your chin and made you look at him. He looked at you with such tender eyes,you got concerned again you would melt into a puddle. This boy was bad for your heart, but at the same time you were sure you would choose him over the oxygen any time of the day, any given second.

"I'm sorry I was distant baby" his voice bought you down to earth, "I thought you would want some space, I was such a dick to you I'm really sorry "

"No baby, it's okay please don't apologize" you were back to your senses, your hands found their way on his soft warm cheeks, your heart squeezing at the sight of seeing him distressed.

"I'm still sad I wasn't here for you when you needed me." Still stubborn as always, you couldn't help but smile.

"What do you mean? You're here"You gave him the warmest smile. Changbin melted against you and brought your body even closer as if to show you just how much he also missed you.

"My baby, my Binnie" you started humming between kisses you couldn't help but litter all over. You pecked his cheeks, his jaw, his chin, his nose, his forehead, intentionally missing his lips. You couldn't help but beam after seeing him giddily smile at you, looking cute all flushed up. Pink looked adorable on him, it made it impossible to resist him, how was he so precious?

"Baby..." you stopped your attack on his neck when you heard him whine adorably. You still sat on his lal, his hands held onto your hips so tightly you were sure it would leave marks if he held on like that even more. "Kiss me please!" A teasing grin spread through your face. "But I'm already kissing you" you mused, playing with his soft locks. Changbin pouted at you looking unimpressed with your comment. "You know what I mean," he huffed, then looked at you with pleading eyes , he seemed almost as eager for you as you were for him, "please?"

Who were you to deny your pretty boy. You gently grabbed his face and leaned in to give him the softest, most tender kiss ever all of your worries long forgotten.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz #stray kids imagines #skz fluff #skz imagines #changbin #changbin fluff #changbin scenarios #changbin x reader #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #skz changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #seo changbin fluff

[taetr4ck]

Not a request but WHICH SKZ/NCT MEMBER WOULD YOU FIGHT GO!

a/n : i just opened my tumblr after a good whole week and this is what i first read FUCK IT WE BALL ! doing all of them because i feel a bit silly today

contents under the cut

STRAY KIDS

BANG CHAN - no. this is self explanatory tbh. i would straight up ask him to marry me

LEE KNOW - i would. but in return he would tell me how much my parents wrecked my whole being so i'll end up tearing up in the corner

CHANGBIN - one slap from this man and i'm already out of this world. he can literally slap me and the next second i'm already in the fifth dimension. no words needed. i would not fight him.

HYUNJIN - i would and then fall in love in the process

HAN - how could i fight this man ? RUTHLESS.

FELIX - i don't have the heart to tbh. i'll cry before i even land my first hit

SEUNGMIN - big yes tbh. i feel like he's the perfect person to pick a fight with. our competitive ass won't give up so easily unless one of us isn't breathing anymore LMFAO

JEONGIN - this man would stab me before i even know it

NCT 127

TAEIL - one glare from this man and i'm already shivering. 50/50.

JOHNNY - i should be punished for forgetting to put him here. what was i thinking !!!! anyway !! i feel like he would be the one to initiate the fight LMFAO he would straight up come to me and just do a ‘let’s do a square’ ‘aight bet’ kind of interaction tbh he would be the funniest person to pick a fight with. i would fight him. he’d be my sparring buddy afterwards

TAEYONG - bro he's about to do his military service leave him alone 😭🙏🏻 poor bubu i would not fight him

MARK - i would. then we will start throwing rap verses (special mention to jopping) like we didn't almost stabbed each other earlier

JAEHYUN - one punch and my skull is already cracked in half. nope

YUTA - i would just straight up kiss him tbh i would not last for five seconds looking at him

DOYOUNG - he would verbal abuse me tbh that's enough to wreck me

HAECHAN - one michael jackson merch for him and he's wrecked so easily. i would fight him.

JUNGWOO - boy this man would bring a baseball bat even though we agreed to have a fist fight. cheater. i would fight him

NCT DREAM

RENJUN - his glare is enough to kill me. 50/50.

JENO - man idc this is jeno we are talking about !!!! he can punch me in the face and i would not bulge !!!!

CHENLE - man he is the worst person to fight. one word from him and i’m already having a mental breakdown. he would unwrap every inch of my traumas from childhood to present. i won't risk it 🫡

JAEMIN - no because we will have our silly little tea party while talking about cute and pretty things

JISUNG - the idea itself makes us both want to cry

WAYV

KUN - he's too good to pick a fight with. my conscience could never

TEN - big yes. put those slutty muscles to work boy !

HENDERY - we would have a fight in valorant and i'd lose. can't risk my reputation for that smh (kidding)

XIAOJUN - this man would straight up launch at me like a fuckin dog. i would fight him (affectionately)

WINWIN - no. i would ask him to be his gf. no explanation needed

YANGYANG - we would have a pillow fight and the next second he's already holding a brick. i said let's have a pillow fight not give me a fucking concussion 😭🙏🏻

should i add my taglist here omg

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

#ᨳ ✦ % : from the monochrome film 🎞️ #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids crack #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz crack #skz x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct x reader #mark lee texts #nct #nct crack #nct 127 #nct dream x reader #nct dream crack

[j-onedrabbles]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 (𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆) 𝒑𝒕 2

✧   PAIRING: SKZ X READER ✧   CW: BSF!SKZ, GN!READER, MENTION BREAKDOWNS, CHAN CALLS READER PRETTY, FOOD/EATING, CRYING, BSF TO LOVERS, CUDDLING ✧   WC: 2.3K TOTAL ✧   NOTE: ✧ HYUNG LINE PT 1|MAKNAE LINE PY 1 ✧ HYUNG LINE| MAKNAE LINE

❥bang chan

Two thirty in the morning. It took Chan less than ten minutes to get to (Y/n)’s apartment. He knocked on their door and waited a few minutes before he heard it unlock. He first noticed the baggy sweatpants and hoodie they had on. Then he saw the red puffy eyes.

     “Come here,” he said as he opened his arms to them 

     (Y/n) wrapped their arms around him tightly without a second thought. One in-the-morning breakdown were typically the worst ones. It was the silence that surrounded them that made you just start to overthink. Overthink everything and that turned into tears.

     Chan wrapped his arms around them and rubbed their back slowly as the two stood in silence for a few more moments. “Come on, I promised you ice cream.”

     (Y/n) nodded and turned back inside, and slipped their shoes on. Quickly grabbing their house keys before stepping out of the unit. (Y/n) locked their small home up before the two headed down to the street. Chan kept his arm around their shoulder and (Y/n) sniffled next to him. 

     The two made it down to the twenty-four-hour store near their place and headed straight for the freezers. (Y/n) opened the door and grabbed a tub of their favorite and turned to Chan to signal him to grab his own. The producer quickly grabbed one before they let the freezer door close. 

     “Do you want anything else while we’re here?” Chan asked as they slowly made their way up to the cashier

     (Y/n) shook their head silently. The two got up to the night clerk and Chan quickly paid for the frozen dessert. He thanked the clerk and grabbed the bag. He wrapped his free arm around his friend again as they exited the store. The quick walk back to the apartment was silent as (Y/n) stared at their feet. Chan simply rubbed their shoulder as he kept them close to his side so they didn’t get hurt while not looking ahead, and to keep them warm.

     Once they got back to the building and made their way to the unit. Once they got inside, Chan grabbed a couple of spoons from their kitchen while (Y/n) sat on the couch. Chan sat with them as the two ate in small silence. Chan had turned on their tv and turned on their favorite movie, keeping it at a low volume.

     “Thank you,” (Y/n) spoke

     “You don’t need to thank me.”

     “Do you think I’m unlovable?” (Y/n) blurted out and took a bit of ice cream

     “Not at all (Y/n). I think people just don’t see how great you are.”

     “I’m not really that great, let’s be honest here Chan.”

     “Okay,” Chan set his ice cream down on their coffee table and then grabbed theirs and set it next to his.

     “Hey!” (Y/n) complained

     “You are one of the best people I have ever met,” Chan started as he turned his body toward them. “You deserve every happy thing that has and will happen to you. I want to see you be happy and I will do everything I can to see you smile. Even just a little. I’m here for you, always.”

     “I feel like you’re about to confess you’re love to me.”

     “No, not after you’ve had a half-hour breakdown,” Chan stated

     “That means you’re in love with me” (Y/n) joked

     They had missed the tips of his ears turning red. “It’s late. I’ll clean up, you go to bed.”      “Can you spend the night?” (Y/n) asked, a little scared they’d have another breakdown as soon as the silence hit them again

     “You need cuddles now?” Chan smirked as he got up to clean up the ice cream and put the leftover in the freezer

     “I would never reject your cuddling.”

     “And I would never reject giving them to you. Come on.”

     The two headed to bed wrapped in each other’s arms. Even when the morning hit, they stayed wrapped up. Right under the warm covers of the bed. Chan woke up a few minutes before (Y/n) and just laid there, smiling at how cute they looked sound asleep; practically curled up on his chest like a baby kitten. 

     (Y/n) finally woke up after a few minutes and unwillingly glared at him, “Why are you staring?” they asked as they rubbed the sleepiness from their eyes.

     “You're pretty,” he smiled down at them

     “Shut up,” (Y/n) slapped his chest as they sat up in bed

     Chan followed and wrapped his arms around their waist and rested his head in the crook of their neck. “I like you, a lot.” he finally said

     “No shit, we’re best friends.”

     “I meant romantically.”

     (Y/n) froze up a bit before turning to him slightly, “You mean it?”

     “With my whole heart,” Chan looked up at them. “I’d like to take you out on a real date that doesn’t include me coming over when you’re crying and getting you ice cream”

     “You’re not joking?”

     “Not one bit. What do you say?”

     “I say yes.”

     Both of them smiled like idiots at each other as Chan kissed their shoulder and cheek. Maybe it was finally (Y/n)’s turn to get that happiness everyone around her seemed to have at the moment.

❥lee know

     Minho showed up a lot sooner than (Y/n) thought. And he was gonna knock up until (Y/n) answered the door. He smiled at his friend as the door opened. 

     “You look worse than I thought,” Minho stated as he held up a plastic bag of food containers, “But I brought comfort food.”

     “That’s you’re only saving grace right now Lee Minho.” (Y/n) stepped aside and let their friend in

     Minho gave them some time to enjoy the food he had brought them before he interrogated them. 

     “So?” he finally questioned as they sat cuddled up on the couch with a movie playing on the screen. 

     “So what?” (Y/n) replied

     “Why were you crying over your friend going out on a date?”

     “Because I'm exhausted of everyone finding love except me.”

     “Well, you tend to have terrible taste in partners.”

     “You’re not helping.”

     “Sorry. Continue.”

     “It just… It makes me feel like I'm unlovable. Like, why can every single one of my friends get happy relationships while I can't? I'm just here. Like, I'm happy for them but at the same time, I want that happiness too.” (Y/n) rambled on

     Minho quietly listened whilst they messed with his hoodie strings. “I don't think you're unlovable.”

     “Then why haven't I had a good relationship in years while all my other friends are talking about marriage and kids?”

     “Because you don't need someone to make you feel complete. You know you can take care of yourself. But yeah, sometimes we all want someone to cuddle and kiss at the end of the day.”

     “Well, you got the cuddle part. Just need someone for the kiss.”

     “I can do both if you want.”

     “What?” (Y/n)’s head shot up from his shoulder. They stared at him, trying to find a hint of joking in his face. But he seemed pretty serious. 

     “What?” he asked

     “Did you just indirectly admit you wanna kiss me?”

     “Maybe.” Minho smirked, “Only if you want to.”

     “You're joking.”

     “Not this time.”

     “Minho…”

     “Test run. See how we like it.”

     (Y/n) thought for a moment. Minho saw the hesitation and took one of their hands. He gently kissed their knuckles. “We don’t have to. Just know I’m always gonna be with you.”

     “What if we don't work?”

     “We go back to being best friends though it might take time.” Minho had all the answers tonight. He always did. 

     “Can we try?”

     “Of course.” Minho smiled and pulled them into his chest and kissed the top of their head. (Y/n) smiled in contentment. 

     “We’re going on a proper date tomorrow. You can brag to your friend how great of a boyfriend I am”

     (Y/n) chuckled at his comment while the movie played. The comfort of falling for your best friend was something no one thought was real, just something of fiction but (Y/n) was lucky they got it. Especially with Lee Minho. 

❥changbin

     Changbin sure took his time getting to (Y/n)’s apartment. They had questioned the last message he had sent until there was a knock at their door. The last text had them forgetting about their crying session. 

     (Y/n) trudged over to the door, exhausted from crying, and opened it. Revealing a smiling dwaekki and boxes of food. (Y/n) let him inside and closed the door behind him. 

     Changbin set the food down before silently opening his arms, and inviting his friend in for a hug. (Y/n) started tearing up again as they quickly moved into his arms, wrapping their arms around him. 

     “You're okay. I got you.” Changbin rubbed their back as they began to cry again. After a few moments of standing while comforting his friend, he maneuvered the position a bit so he could pick them up and carry them over to the couch. 

     He sat back with them on top of him while they cried into his chest. Changbin let them get it all out again. He didn't keep track of how long they cried but he would continue to offer his comfort for as long as they needed.

     Once they had calmed down a bit, they sat up and went to thank their friend. Changbin wiped away the tears that stained their face. “Feel better?”

     “Kinda,” (Y/n) shrugged, “just kinda tired.”

     “Are you hungry?” he asked

     “A little.”

     “You put on the movie, I’ll bring the food over.” 

     (Y/n) nodded and got off their friend. Changbin got up and grabbed the food, bringing it over to the coffee table by the couch. (Y/n) put on their favorite movie. The two ate the takeout while they watched the film.

     Once they finished their food, (Y/n) curled up in a blanket and cuddled into the rapper's side. Changbin wrapped his arm around their shoulders and kissed the top of their head. Then they remembered the last text he had sent them. (Y/n) sat up and looked at him. 

     “What?” he asked

     “You said you'd kiss me.”

     “I just kissed your head. Do you want more kisses?”

     “Binnie…”

     “(Y/n).”

     “Do you…” they didn't know how to ask the question without sounding a bit conceited. 

     “You are my best friend, (Y/n), and you always will be. And I don't keep secrets from my best friend. I love you more than a friend but I didn't know how exactly to tell you.” Changbin grabbed their hand and rubbed his thumb over their knuckles. “But I would love a chance to be the one you always come to, wake up to, kiss, everything.”

     (Y/n) was struck. They’d been right and didn't know how to react. They started tearing up again and Bin pulled them in for another hug. Tears of joy this time.

     “You definitely can Binnie,” (Y/n) said between cries

     “I’ll be the best boyfriend for you,” he said and kissed their temple. 

❥hyunjin

     (Y/n) did as Hyunjin said and dressed cozy; just a thick hoodie and sweatpants and waited for him to show up. Mostly fiddling with the hoodie strings. Once they got the text that he was at the door. (Y/n) got up from the couch and shuffled over to the door. Quickly slipping their shoes on before opening the door. 

     Hyunjin smiled softly at them as they came into view. “Come here.”

    (Y/n) quickly shoved their keys into their hoodie pocket. They left the comfort of their home and hugged their friend. Hyunjin wrapped his arms around them and stood there for a few moments. 

     “Thank you,” (Y/n) mumbled

     “You don't need to thank me,” Hyunjin replied

     “No. But I wanted to. You didn't have to come over and take me out.”

     “I wanted to though. I hate seeing you sad and this seemed like the best way to cheer you up.”

     “Just hanging out with you makes me happier.”

     Hyunjin was glad they were still hugging and (Y/n) couldn't see him blush a little. But soon the two locked hands and headed down to the street. They took a nice walk through the City, the sun getting lower in the sky. 

     The dancer brought them to a park near the Han River, the sun getting lower in the sky. It was nice out for the evening, just a bit chilly. The two sat on a bench and looked out over the river. (Y/n) stuck close to their friend and rested their head on his shoulder. 

     Hyunjin smiled as he fiddled with their fingers, finally interlocking their fingers together. 

     “This is probably the best date I've been on,” (Y/n) smiled as they stared at their hands

     “I'm glad. You look better when you smile.”

     “You think, we can have a second date?” (Y/n) asked 

     “Of course.” Hyunjin smiled and lifted their hands to kiss the top of their hand.

     Once the sun set, the two headed back to (Y/n)’s apartment, hands interlocked the whole way there. Even when they got to the door, Hyunjin didn't let go. Rather he pulled them against him and beamed at them. (Y/n) smiled back as they stood in each other's arms. 

     “Hi,” (Y/n) said

     “Hi,” Hyunjin almost giggled before he kissed the tip of their nose

     “Wanna come in and cuddle?”

     “I'd love to.”

      Both went inside, away from the cold air outside, and cuddled up on the couch under blankets with a movie running in the background. Eventually, both fell asleep on the couch. Might regret that choice tomorrow but it was worth it right now. 

M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

#: ̗̀➛karmic writes #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader fluff #skz x reader fluff #skz x reader angst #skz angst #bang chan x reader fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader angst #lee know x reader #lee know x reader angst #lee know x reader fluff #changbin x reader #changbin x reader fluff #changbin x reader angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader fluff #hyunjin x reader angst

[starlostseungmin]

— empty cafe, bang chan.

✰ notes: happiest birthday to bang chan! it's been a while since the last time i wrote for him but don't worry, his entry for my taylor swift series is coming up soon as well as jeongin! stay tuned for my lee know birthday entry <;33 don't forget to write feedbacks and reblog!

✰ tags: @lix-ables , @zoe8stay , @djeniryuu , @ppiri-bahng , @sleepyleeji , @notastraykid , @skzfelixlove , @seungly , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @ohish , @comet-falls , @mrswolfiechan , @rachabreathing , @iadorethemskz , @minluvly , @dreamingsmile , @flirtyskzbutterfly , @tangylemonade , @gwynsapphire , @annispamz , @surefornext , @seungincore , @skz1-4-3 , @hanjingin , @hyunverse , @hwaberryjuice , @felixglow , @soonyoungblr , @awkwardnesshabitat ( color blue user/s are the ones i can’t tag )

“I need to leave,” You said with your voice cracking up at the situation of being humiliated in front of your co-workers. Your boss crossed the line this time and there is no way you’d want to come back to work here again. Taking all your belongings, you left the office and went straight to the downtown. It wasn’t crowded just like the rush hours, it was peaceful enough to deal with for an introvert. 

You head straight to an empty cafe and rush inside the comfort room to cry, failing to hear the barista’s warm greeting. He was the only one working at that time and noticed how you were in a hurry. It was supposed to be a soundproof door but he couldn’t help but hear your sobs when he happened to pass by the bathroom as he was supposed to head to the pantry to get some ingredients while waiting for you. 

It took a total of 15 minutes before you decided to go out after fixing yourself from the mental breakdown you had. The barista welcomed you again as you approached the counter. You barely visit this cafeーthe last time you did was when you were with a friend. The food being served was different from before, even the drinks. 

“Can I please have a cinnamon latte and a brownie?” You asked trying not to sound sad as his smile grew bigger than before. 

“Of course,” He said. “Is that all?” 

“Yeah,” You sniffed. 

“It will be up in 5 minutes, please take a seat!” He beamed as you smiled back at him and took the table for one just near the counter. It was a good thing that you were the only customer at the moment. You didn’t want anyone to see how glum you were, except the fact that the barista already knew. He even offered the password to their Wi-Fi just in case you wanted to use it. 

Your voice was calm and friendly when you talked to him. He seemed very enthusiastic about his job and you work the opposite. You admit it made you feel better to be treated politely after your dumbass boss just took you out like that. A sigh escaped your lips as you tried to hold yourself not to cry again and to avoid another embarrassment even if it was meant for a single person to see. Chan doesn’t actually mind, he had seen a lot of it before. Customers coming in and out have different stories being written behind those facades. 

He played some songs to entertain you while waiting but only made you shed tears when he played the wrong playlist with a solemn genre. The napkins being displayed in front of you were used to wipe those tears. Screw those tears, your makeup is expensive to be wasted over for some jerk. 

Chan took the tray on the counter with your food on it and tried to approach you as gently as possible. He didn’t want to meddle with the problem at first but it seems like you need someone to talk to at the moment. You texted your friend but haven’t replied for 30 minutes now and God knows what she’s doing on her day off. 

“Here’s your cinnamon latte and brownie,” You heard him say as he placed your food on the mat. 

“Thank you,” You responded in a gentle voice. 

“You’re welcome!” He beamed again as you smiled. “Uhm, I don’t want to interfere with your personal life but, are you okay?” He asked when you were about to taste the food. 

“Yeah,” You said, brushing off the embarrassment. He totally noticed everything. 

“You were crying in the comfort room a few moments ago,” He added. “I’m sorry if I eavesdropped, I was kinda worried when you came in looking so upset,” 

At first, it was awkward to have a total stranger coming up to you and asking if you were fine, but on the other hand, you appreciated it. Moments like this barely happen in your life and everyone leaves you alone, except your best friend of course. You looked at him for a few seconds before answering. 

“It was just tough at work,” You smiled, covering the sadness of your face. He is cute and a little bit taller, he has dimples engraved on his cheeks when he smiles and his curly orange locks are very noticeable, his voice is somewhat comforting and the vibe he gives is so approachable. 

“I understand,” He said. “Mind if I sit with you? You’re the only customer we have at the moment and I did everything before approaching you, haha,” He added. 

“It’s alright,” You answered. “I’m sorry if I just came in looking so upset, my boss just humiliated me in front of my co-workers while I was just trying to defend myself. I got into a small argument with her and then she exploded, blaming me and always pointing out that I’m wrong. It’s just so tiring,” You sighed. “All I did was to follow her instructions for the draft and I don’t know what happened next. It keeps happening during these past few months and I’m trying to deal with it because I don’t want to end up being jobless but the thing is, it’s really toxic now,” You added and cried in front of him. Chan immediately took out some napkins from a small box on the mat and handed them over to you. “Thanks,” 

“I’m sorry that it happened to you,” He said being an empath. “I understand, my first job is similar to yours but I’m happy that I left. Do you have intentions to quit?” 

“A very strong urge,” You sniffed and smiled after wiping your tears. “I’m planning to write my resignation letter tonight so I can submit it tomorrow. I don’t want to work there anymore, this is the last time.” 

“Well, I’m happy that you are,” He smiled. “You should take a break and look out for yourself before taking another risk again. And it’s brave of you to stand up for yourself and leave a toxic environment when you’re in the middle of a crisis of needing that job. I think you really need to rest for now and I pray that in your next one, it will be better and healthier. There are a lot of people who would treat you better. You deserve to be happy and well,” 

“Thanks,” You said as your smile grew bigger. “It made me feel better actually,” 

“It’s rare of me to be having this heart-to-heart talk with a customer though,” He laughed. “You’re probably the first one, I guess?” 

“I’m honored,” You said. “What’s your name?” You asked. 

“Oh, I’m Christopher but everyone calls me Bang Chan,” He said, reaching his hand towards you for a shake. “Actually, just Chan. What about you?” 

“I’m Y/n,” You answered, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Chan,” 

“And you too!” He smiled. “You should eat now, the brownie is getting cold,” He giggled as you happily ate the food and complimented him about it. 

“You know, if your resignation gets approved let me know,” He said while watching you. 

“Of course! You’d be the first one to know,” 

And two days later, you came back to the cafe and rushed towards the counter not minding the other customers watching you. 

“Chan! Chan! Chan!” You called as he immediately welcomed you outside the counter. 

“Y/n! How was it?” He asked excitedly. 

“They approved it!” You said as you both hugged each other, squealing at the best news while jumping in circles. 

“Congratulations! Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” Chan said emotionally as if he was trying to wipe his invisible tears after breaking the happy hug. 

“Thank you so much! I am so happy that it happened and thank you for listening to me,” You said. “I shall invite you to dinner after your shift if that’s alright with you?” 

That made Chan’s cheeks turn a little bit pink and his heart raced. “Of course! I’ll be glad to! I don’t have plans tonight anyway,” He said with a cheeky smile plastered on his face. 

“Then I’ll wait for you,” You answered kissing his cheek before turning away and went to an empty table. Changbin, the cashier saw the whole thing and smirked at the older guy. 

“So you’re ditching boys’ night for a date huh?” Changbin said as Chan rolled his eyes. 

“Shut up,” 

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