planetdemon

[planetdemon]

wus good/curious | bang chan

It’s sloppy, messy as ever as spit slicks your chin and you huff into his mouth, stepping backwards and tripping over the edge of the couch. You hate fucking on leather but Chan loves it. His hand trails down past the hem of your skirt and along your bare skin, feather light touches that leave goosebumps in their wake and send a shiver up your spine.

❥ pairing: chan x f!reader ❥ genre: pwp (minimal), smut & angst (?) ❥ rating: 18+ ❥ word count: 2.8k ❥ warnings: mentions of a past toxic relationship, chan wants you back, you are having none of it. chan is not like chan! but he’s really hot, just really horny and a bit dark. sex club, banter, lust/hate relationship, praise, pussy eating, oral!m & f receiving, rough makeout sessions, mentions of drinking and smoking, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cum eating, petnames kinda, dom!chan, sub!reader, messy sex, size kink, teasing, edging, begging, slight humiliation, hickeys, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, questionable words from chan at the end. ❥ a/n: first of all, I’ve been having major chan brain rot like it’s getting bad… and most of my fics are gonna be named after pnd songs.. just like this one and relax with me because i’m obsessed so if there’s any pnd lovers hi. but actually I was inspired by U&I by the neighbourhood so definitely listen to that… and I hope you enjoy! lmk if I’m missing any tags <3 ALSO! if you plan on staying around, I have a form for kinktober that I would appreciate if you filled out so I can get a headstart <3

playlist: wus good/curious - partynextdoor, U&I - the neighbourhood, one night only - sonder, between us - TYuS

Red lights give Chan a headache. His eyes strain to see in the otherwise darkened room, the people around him just a mass of blurry figures grinding and moving against each other like they’ll die without another person’s touch.

Red lights make Chan dizzy, but the promise of what’s to come allows him to ignore it. The lights flicker and his vision fights with itself to focus. He barely registers the hand sliding up his pants when his eyes flutter shut, his drink teetering over the edge of his glass and threatening to spill on the expensive leather. It’s the least of his worries, though, because all that’s on his mind is you.

Does he regret how things ended? Yeah, maybe a little, but that’s just how things are. He can’t help his nature and he can’t give you the perfect loving boyfriend that you want. It just isn’t him. He does miss you, and if you took him back he wouldn’t complain, but he already knows what would be in store if you did. Screaming matches every night, leaving and not coming back until late the next day, fighting and making up over and over. And then sex. lots and lots of sex. His favorite part if he had to choose.

He’s not keen on hearing you scream at him while he’s nursing a hangover like he quite often is, and neither were your neighbors. Going on and on until the birds started to sing and your voice was coming out hoarse. The exhaustion was clear on your face, the resignation that this was never going to work. After a while he was just waiting for you to give up and finally walk out like you should have done a long time ago, until you actually did.

Not even a goodbye. A fuck you before driving off. Nothing. And that hurt more than anything else ever could. So does he miss you? Hell fucking yes. Would he do things differently this time around? He has no idea, and somehow that’s reason enough for him to know everything would go to shit if you two did start again. He just isn’t made to love, only made to hurt, and he has enough of something in his heart where he won’t make you go through that again.

He doesn't know why he’s here. Partying every night is nothing new to him and he’d probably be at this club tonight anyway, but the reason he is still has him pacing in his mind and wondering if he should just leave now before he fucks everything up like he usually does.

It’s not often you ask him for favors. He didn’t think he would ever hear you ask for anything ever again, so when you asked him to meet you at Le coït, the most expensive club in the city, he said yes.

Red lights make Chan lightheaded, but now he has one girl whispering in his ear and another slipping her fingers into his open dress shirt. His head lolls on the backrest of the couch, his legs spread wide inviting anyone interested to take their spot between them when he spots you. Hair fluffed out, eyes shadowed by dark eyeliner, and lips a deep scarlet red. You’re standing over him, looking down at him like a mother would look at her naughty child. He smirks. “Hey, doll.”

Looking over at him you can’t help but wonder if you made a mistake. After all, who calls their toxic ex over to them instead of running the opposite direction? He’s still as sexy as ever, and even more promiscuous after abandoning the facade of ever being faithful.

He sits up when you don’t respond, shrugging the two girls that were draped over him into either side of the couch. They roll their eyes before standing up and sneering at you on their way out. You roll your eyes, “Can’t you control your little hoochies?”

“Not my fucking problem.”

You send a glare his way and he just stares at you from under hooded eyes as if he’s examining, assessing how much you’ve changed over the last seven months. “I met you here. What the fuck else do you want?” He snaps, standing up to leer over you.

“I want you to act like you at least have a semblance of decency, and not be a dick for two seconds.” You grit, looking him in the eyes just long enough to see him laugh.

“But isn’t that what you liked best about me?”

You look down, the subject of your sharp look being the outline in his jeans. “Yeah,” you say sweetly.

He pauses, lost for words, until “What do you want?” He growls, lips pressed together tightly.

“Oh please,” you tease, “don’t act like I’m sneaking up on you and you didn’t practically jump at the chance to meet me.” Chan rolls his eyes, his jaw clenching and the only thing he wants to do is keep fighting, especially if that means he gets to talk to you longer.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?”

“I- I want us to…” You stammer, and for a moment Chan sees past the front you’ve put up and the girl he remembers. The one it was just too easy to make his own, following whatever he said until you finally put your foot down. “I want you to fuck me,” You grit, “At least to remind me of the one thing you always did right.”

He can’t help the laugh that leaves his throat. “Wow,” he grins, “You’ve seeked me out for a hookup?”

You shuffle your feet, switching your weight from one foot to the other. “If you’re gonna give me a hard time, I’ll pay you and you can act like you don’t want it just as much as me.”

“Pay me,” He huffs, “like I'm some whore on the street?”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

His eyes cut daggers into your own, but you don’t back down. He relinquished any power he had over you a long time ago.

“Fine.”

You shouldn’t, but you’re too pent up to care. When Chan’s fingers slip under the waistband of your leather skirt, all you can think about is how good he’s going to make you feel. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers slide into his hair and grab. His mouth opens and a puff of air is visible in the smoke that leaves his mouth. You smirk, bringing him closer and pressing your lips together. A kiss much too tender for a causal hookup between two exes in a private room of a sex club, but Chan fists your shirt and pulls you impossibly closer. His fingers dig into your hips and he kisses you like a man starved.

It’s sloppy, messy as ever as spit slicks your chin and you huff into his mouth, stepping backwards and tripping over the edge of the couch. You hate fucking on leather but Chan loves it. His hand trails down past the hem of your skirt and trails along your bare skin, feather light touches that leave goosebumps in their wake and send a shiver up your spine. He pushes your legs down harshly, spreading them wide enough for him to slot himself between them. He hasn’t stopped kissing you and you can barely breathe, sliding your hand out of his hair and clawing at his back, gripping his silk shirt and tearing at it with your nails. You drag it upwards with an unspoken message of off off off.

He sneaks a hand over your neck and pushes your head upwards and into the couch. His breath ghosts over your skin, fruity and sweet from alcohol, before he sinks down and nips at your neck. You hear yourself moan before you register the harsh kisses he’s trailing along your neck, ripping open the white blouse you put on for the first time today and trailing kisses along your chest. He bites and sucks and licks over the marks he’s sure to have left before he finally pulls his shirt over his head.

You drag your fingers against his skin. You know the warm honey tone even if you can’t see it, the red lights casting a dark shadow over his features. His hair covers his eyes as he looks down at you, and you can’t even see the whites of his pupils from this angle. You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth, he’s like a devil clad in leather eating you from the inside out and making you his.

“You’re absolutely sinful,” he slurs, the movement of his spit slicked lips slowed by the lasting effects of whatever narcotics he’s spent his night taking. Chan stares down at you— the way your hair fans out and your lashes flutter under his attention. Your lips are swollen and wet, open just wide enough for him to slip a finger inside. He does just that, slotting his thumb between your lips and pushing your top lip up, fighting the urge to drool over how plump they are. He can’t help but remember how full they look around his cock.

You moan around his finger, closing his lips around him when he allows, and suckle on his skin. The pleasure he gets from that alone has precum dribbling in his tight pants, the outline of his heavy cock visible to anyone who looked close enough. He shuts his eyes and sighs, slouching against you. Your legs bracket his waist and his crotch is right in front of your entrance. Your skirt rides up your waist so the view of your pussy and sopping panties is in plain sight, practically begging for pleasure.

He drags a ringed finger up your fold through your underwear, and your legs fight to close. You’re so sensitive from almost nothing at all, and a strangled moan leaves your mouth when he takes his thumb and pushes it against your clit, rubbing it through the fabric. The pleasure is muffled but still has you whimpering against him, crying out when he slots his lips against yours.

You break apart from the kiss and dart your tongue and swipe it across his lips. He hisses, his eyes snapping open and you lean closer and peck his lips, begging, “Just fuck me, please. A-and then we can go our separate ways just.. just—”

Breaths coming out ragged and sharp, Chan cuts you off and smashes his lips against yours practically growling and ravenous as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your moans and whines leave your mouth like a garbled mess and Chan doesn’t stop.

He pulls your underwear down leaving it dangling on your ankle as he creeps closer to your dripping cunt. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he sighs, and the cool air on your sensitive folds has your eyes fluttering shut.

Contrary to what you expect, he brings his fingers back against you, rubbing at your swollen nub as your eyes slip closed and you go slack against the sticky leather. A lusty haze settles over you like a dank fog seeping into your pores and taking over. Chan’s fingers only speed up slightly, just enough to keep the arousal bubbling in your belly constant. Your hips jerk against him and you grind against his fingers, whining pitifully when it still isn’t enough.

“Wanna see you fuck yourself on my fingers and show me how badly you want to come,” Chan groans in your ear and your hips stutter as a long whine spills from your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes,” you slur, grabbing at his shoulders for support as you move your hips faster.

“Good girl.”

You whimper, and everything fades as you feel the knots in your stomach clench, your climax approaching steadily. You feel cum leak down your legs and onto the couch, but Chan doesn’t stop. Only now does he speed up and your hips speed up with him. When the warmth leaves you and your hips shake, you cry out and Chan finally stops, taking his wet fingers and putting them in his mouth.

Chan groans at the taste, and almost loses his mind at the wet spot where you lay, your arousal still leaking down your legs. You felt his hands grab at your cheeks, massaging the flesh before leaning in and licking a stripe across your center. You yelped, grabbing onto his shoulders as he continued working on you, sucking dutifully on your clit and running his tongue up and down between your folds.

“Oh…”

Chan pulls off and groans, “You taste so good.”

Your hand runs shakily through his hair, grabbing at the loose strands and pulling him up. “I want you to fuck me,” You groan, your lips wobbly and your eyes hazy where they meet his.

“Oh baby,” he tsks, “You still have some work to do, don’t you?” He pulls your hand from his hair and leans up, making quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down. There’s a wet spot in his boxers from pre cum and his cock springs out when he pulls them down. You feel your mouth go dry, his cock clean and pretty just like him, flushed and wet at the tip. The red lights become second nature and you barely notice them when they bounce off his skin and he leans forward dragging you down by your ankles.

“Suck.” He commands, pushing your head forward and dragging his heavy length over your lips. Your whines are muffled when he shoves it inside and you gag, too heavy and too big and much too quick. Your lips wrap around him sucking gently, your tongue lapping against the tip. Pre cum coats your tongue and you sink down even further, your throat closing and your nose tickled by pubic hair.

Chan groans from above you, your hair in a vice grip as he steadily pushes you on and off his cock. His mouth hangs open and his eyes flutter as you work on him sucking and kissing all over his pretty, flushed skin. You can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth and the vibrations against his sensitive crotch has him jerking against you.

“Fuck,” he moans, “You were made just for me.”

You sob in his hold, it comes out choked and watery but he smirks all the same before pulling you off and pushing you backwards. His biceps flex when he grabs your thighs and turns you over, your cheek pressed into the sticky cushion— your back arched and legs spread wide. He smooths his hand over your arch before pulling back and spreading you wide and slotting his dick inside with no warning.

He stretches you out so well, a moan punching its way out your throat as he buries himself in your tight heat. His fingers dig into your skin so hard you cry out in pain but he doesn’t let up, determined to have you walking home with bruises that spell out his name.

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” He growls, thrusting into you particular harshly when you cry out. “Thinking you can just walk away from me?” He says it almost like he’s shocked. He pushes your head down into the cushion, and his dick pushes even deeper. When you reach a hand down you can feel the imprint where his tip lays as he thrusts in slow and deep.

Your cheek is amused against the chair and drool pools out your mouth. You can’t think past anything but full. You're so, so, full. Chan always knows just what you need to feel good.

You can’t stop your moans as he thrusts in and out of your sopping wet pussy. The sound of his cock drilling in you and stirring your arousal is filthy and rings in your ears, but the shame isn’t enough to stop you from moving your hips back and meeting him thrust for thrust. You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you and Chan’s as well as his thrusts become sloppier and lose their rhythm.

Chan groans and you feel his cum paint your walls. Your orgasm follows when he thrusts lazily into you, riding his orgasm and continuing to cum deep inside.You try to protest but your body racks with shivers and you can’t stop cumming. Chan laughs above you and leaves a heavy smack on your ass, and you can feel the skin blush a deep red even though you can’t see it. He pulls out and you feel the mixture of your release dribble down your front. Your hips are still stuck in the air, frozen, while your body continues to shake.

“I did a number on you huh, baby.” Chan teases, before leaning down and leaving a lazy kiss against you. You’re too fucked out to reciprocate and the smirk that adorns Chan’s face is borderline cruel. “I turned you into my own stupid slut, didn’t I?” He laughs, smoothing his hand through your hair.

“You know you can’t stay away for long.”

You feel his lips press your cheek before everything goes dark.

a/n: as always, thank u so much for reading and I hope u enjoyed! more than happy to hear ur thoughts <3

[planetdemon]

S T R A Y K I D S - C H A N

rainsong ~!!

general audiences - lowercase intended - wc. 1277

summary - when the weather gets nasty, chan asks you to spend the night instead of driving out into the storm.

warnings - making out, lots of fluff n comfort, lighting and thunder

-#.#.#-

you were gently shaken awake by a warm hand on your shoulder. gradually, you stirred from sleep, becoming aware of the sensations and sounds surrounding you. there was tender music playing softly over the melody of falling rain, which pattered against the cool windowpanes of the living room. deep, quiet breaths sounded close to your ear, and with each inhale, your head rose on its pillow. your sleepy brain decided that your pillow must be your boyfriend's broad shoulder, rising and falling with his breaths.

"wake up, sweet thing," whispered a familiar, melodic voice. "come on now."

a warm pair of lips left feathery kisses on your forehead.

your eyelids felt heavy as they reluctantly lifted, revealing the soft features of chan smiling adoringly down upon you. like a small kitten, you stretched and yawned.

"what time is it?" you whispered sleepily. you were blinking owlishly in your tiredness, and it made chan chuckle.

"almost 1 am."

though you were still blinking the haze of sleep from your eyes, you did see credits rolling on the tv screen, which was also the source of the tender music you'd heard harmonizing with the pitter-patter of raindrops outside.

"I fell asleep?" you asked with some disappointment. it wasn't everyday that your boyfriend had time and energy enough to watch a movie with you, cuddling you to his broad chest. somehow, falling asleep during one of these relatively rare sessions felt like a waste of his love.

"yes, angel," he whispered, brushing his lips back and forth across your temple. "you were so cute, too."

that did comfort you some, but not by much. with another disappointed sigh, you shuffled sideways on the couch to nuzzle into his warmth.

your eyes, reverent, gazed at the lovely painting that was your boyfriend. the quiet city lights streamed through the window, flickering as raindrops rolled across the cold glass. they, along with the soft white of the credits on the tv screen, danced along the curves of chan's face. he seemed to glow in the dark living space, eyes twinkling like stars. he blushed upon becoming aware of your fervent gaze, ducking his head shyly.

it was such a heart-wrenchingly beautiful image that you couldn't mask the regret in your voice as you said, "I should probably get going now."

at that moment, a flash of lightning arced across the heavens, flooding the room with pale light. almost immediately following came booming thunder, like the sound of mountains cracking in half. the lightning was as bright as a spotlight, illuminating chan's worried face, which gazed at you with concern.

"I don't want you driving in this weather," he protested, raising his voice ever so slightly as the rain pelted faster and the wind picked up. "especially not so late at night."

you sighed into his warm, muscled chest. "channie - "

"you should spend the night."

all noise seemed to fade ever so slightly, and you glanced up to meet his eyes, startled.

"i-if that's okay with you, anyway," he amended hastily, noticing the shock on your face. "or I can just drive you home myself - "

"no, it's okay," you breathed. "I don't mind spending the night… i-if you really don't mind, that is…? I don't want to be a burden - "

you hadn't even had time to finish your sentence before chan's lips were on yours. he pulled you up to fully rest on his chest and wrapped his arms around you like vines around a marble pillar.

"I love you," he murmured into the kiss.

threading your fingers through his soft locks, you quietly giggled. "I love you too."

for a few minutes, all you did was make out, the near-silent sounds of wet lips dancing together barely audible over the storm outside. chan's arms were warm and strong, caging you to his body in the most euphoric way possible. the last few bars of credit music were the soundtrack to the graceful motions of his mouth, along with shared sighs and the rustling of blankets. but when the credits ended and the only music to be heard was that of the rain and thunder, you pulled away.

"I just realized something," you said, scratching tenderly at chan's scalp. the man was nearly too far gone in cozy contentment to register what you meant, but he did manage a quiet hum in question.

"I don't have pj's," you laughed. "or a toothbrush."

chan could only offer you a sleepy smile in reply, eyelids hanging heavy with sheepishness and the desire to count sheep, and the adorable expression melted your heart. giggling again, you leaned forward to capture his lips into another warm kiss.

"we keep new toothbrushes under the bathroom sink," he muttered against your lips. "and you can wear my pj's."

the last sentence sounded more like a hopeful question than a statement, which had you smiling as he continued to nibble at your lower lip.

"okay, casanova," you breathed.

channie groaned and pouted as you rolled off of him, making grabby hands at you. "come back," he whined quietly. the shadows of silhouetted raindrops sliding down the glass made the impression of tears running down chan's cheeks. you brushed the false tears off his skin anyway, just to make sure there wasn't actually any wetness.

"we can cuddle in bed," you reminded him teasingly. "but first I need to brush my teeth."

~♧~

true to his word, there were several unopened toothbrushes under the bathroom sink. somehow, he managed to make even something as mundane as teeth-brushing special. but then again, that was channie for you. it felt more intimate than cuddling or kissing, brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror and making silly faces at one another. maybe it was the domesticity of it all.

he gave you a pair of his boxers and a baggy, black t-shirt to change into, and you couldn't help sniffing deeply of his scent that lingered on the clothes whilst putting them on. the cloth felt familiar on your skin, like you were made to wear his clothes, and the woodsy, deep, vanilla-esque aroma of them made your mouth water. of course, that much could be said for any time you buried your nose in chan's skin. his smell was nothing short of delicious.

it was a bit self-consciously that you stepped out of the bathroom into your boyfriend's waiting gaze. his jaw dropped, and all the breath seemed to leave his lungs.

"wow..." he said, clearing his throat a few times. "wow."

shyly, you hid your face whilst crawling under the covers to join him.

"wow," he breathed again.

"is that all you can say?" you giggled, slapping his chest in embarrassment.

chan's eyes were twinkling like stars, his face soft with devotion as he gently grabbed the hand that had slapped him.

although your mouth hung ajar, you were silent as he pulled you to rest every line of your body atop every line of his.

"that's all I need to say." he finally answered your question, and the words rumbled in his chest under your ear.

chan petted your hair as lovingly as he ever had, whilst his other arm wrapped sensuallyaround your waist. you were completely enveloped by his warmth, and you were sure you had never felt so safe, so adored.

there would never be any lullaby as lovely as this, as perfect as tapping rain, receding thunder, chan's slow breaths and contented sighs, and his beautiful heart, strong and sweet, beating a soothing rhythm under your hands.

if your life was a fairytale, you'd be perfectly satisfied to let this be your happily ever after.

🍀🍀🍀

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reblog maybe? ^*^

[planetdemon]

Channie Doesn’t Know

seo changbin x reader

part 1/8 - come on fuck me emo boy. find the playlist here

word count: 3.2k

genre: smut, teeny bit of fluff - MINORS DNI

warnings: ah fuck here we go / rock star changbin, smoking, cheating, unprotected sex (do better), bin’s a bit mean, biting, blood (just a teeny bit), marking, biting, bruising exhibitionism, crying, pet names: princess, slut, dirty talk. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: the greatest mistake changbin has ever made.

a/n: stating the obvious here, but i don’t condone cheating. this was fun to write, and hopefully it will be fun to read, but i’m begging you not to cheat on anyone ever. anyway, i’m v excited to kick off this series with changbin and hope it lives up to your expectations! pls send all of the feedback, i’m so excited for you to go on this journey with me <333

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents seo changbin as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

series taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @fthan, @chaitae-bae, @cloudyybinin, @lix001

Changbin never believed in mistakes. To him, everything in his life had some sort of purpose - there was no such thing as a bad choice. He did what he felt was right, and never once has he been wrong.

It was the heaviest storm September has ever seen. The puddles on the streets were deep, and Changbin watched the crowd outside the venue continually sink their feet in the murky water. Docs covered in mud, wet denim sticking to legs. He was grateful to be hidden under the alley walkway, dry and warm.

His head was resting on the cool, damp brick, cigarette hanging between his lips as he lazily attempted to light it. The wind kept catching the flame, blowing it out before it was fully developed. The lack of nicotine grew increasingly more irritating, distracting him from the loud slam of the alleyway door.

“Need a hand?”

Changbin slowly turned to the owner of the voice, mouth dropping just enough for the cigarette to roll out and into a puddle to be whisked away.

That was his last one.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, throwing his head against the wall enough for it to sting slightly. “Not anymore.”

Water splashed under your boots as you approached him, Changbin watching out of the corner of his eye. The sounds of water pattering on the asphalt was the only noise, followed by the familiar click of a lighter.

A cold hand gripped his chin, tugging it gently in your direction. With a smirk on your face, you took the cigarette from your lips and slipped it in between his. The combination of the burning tobacco and the cool of your touch made Changbin’s head spin, eyes threatening to flutter shut.

He took a long inhale, holding it for longer than necessary before blowing the smoke out in your face. When it cleared, he found himself staring at your lips - red and slightly parted, more tempting than the stick that was in between his.

“Better?” You had asked, pulling his eyes and thoughts away from your lips.

He smirked before offering the cigarette to you, studying the way your lips wrapped around the end of it.

“Much.”

The two of you shared the cigarette, smoking it down to the very end before tossing the bud on the ground. Changbin watched as you stepped on it, flattening it down before kicking it in the direction of the other littered cigarette ends.

“Another?”

Changbin was mesmerized by you. The way you had your hair pushed back, jaw clenched as you lit the second cigarette. Then it was the way you exhaled, the white smoke disappearing into the evening rain. At one point, you had leaned into him, passing the stick along, and the smell of your perfume overwhelmed him. Floral, rosey, warm. The opposite of the heavy smoke that hung between you two.

Tobacco had never eased him like your presence had.

The second cigarette was gone within a blink, bud falling and meeting the same fate as the first. “As much as I’d love to share another, I need to go in.” You said, glancing at your watch.

“Nah, go. Thanks for sharing.”

You looked up at him, smile slowly fading. “Wait…” He watched your eyes narrow in on his lips, and he felt his breathing screech to a halt as you leaned in. He hoped you couldn’t see the way his hands were shaking, or the slight tremble of his lips.

Changbin had never kissed somebody in the rain before, though he had always wanted to. It was a cheesy fantasy, but one that he could never shake. He wanted the feeling of warm lips against his in the cold rain, bodies tingling with a lethal combination of anticipation and bone chilling cold. His skin rose as you got closer, and he found himself leaning into your movements.

Right as the tip of your nose brushed against his, you stopped. He breathed you in; tobacco and rose and mint. A smell so unique, one that he swore he would never forget.

Soft fingers touched his chin for the second time that evening. His eyes fluttered shut, body already beginning to chill.

He felt your thumb press against his bottom lip, the pressure growing by the second. Instinct told him to open his mouth, to take you in. But he didn’t. Not yet. He wanted to know your next move.

The thumb on his lip moved to the right, tugging on it as you swiped once, then twice. Changbin opened his eyes just as you moved your head back to look at him. You placed the same thumb that was just on his lip in your mouth, lips forming around it as you sucked before popping it out.

“Had a bit of me on you.” The thumb pulled on your bottom lip, smearing the red lipstick down your chin.

Lipstick. All you were doing was wiping lipstick off his lips, and it had him harder than he had ever been before. It was just fucking lipstick.

But, was it? Or was that just his breaking point?

Manners be damned. Changbin grabbed your face, stumbling out from under the walkway just a bit to fall into the rain. Your lips collided against his, tongues hungrily pressing into each other. He pulled you into the rain with him, slamming your body against the brick wall of the venue. Your moans echoed in his mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

No time was wasted. Lips never left each other. Your hands worked on his belt while his fell to your pants, shoving them down just enough to let him slip inside you.

He’ll never forget the way you felt around him for the first time. The warmth of your kisses and walls rivaling the ice of the rain and wind. Your hair stuck to your face and his, molded together in every way possible. Changbin didn’t even know you, didn’t even know your name, yet here he was - ramming himself into you in a pale evening light. Where anyone could see.

Maybe it was the way you held his hand, bringing it up to your throat and encouraging him to grasp it. Or maybe it was the way you begged him, “baby” falling from your lips over and over as your climax approached. It could also have been the way the brick wall cut his hand after he had placed it there to brace himself. It could have been a number of things, but all Changbin knew was now that he’s had you, he would never let you go.

Changbin didn’t believe in mistakes.

He didn’t understand the weight that came with fucking you in an empty alleyway.

It wasn’t until the two of you snuck back inside the venue, giggling as your clothes dripped onto the vinyl flooring that he realized maybe mistakes were real.

And maybe you were one.

“Hey!” A friendly voice called. A voice that always brought Changbin warmth, always made him feel safe in a way no other friend had. He looked up to see his blonde friend making his way over to the two of you, smiling to greet Changbin-

Wait. No?

Chan walked up to you, laughing as he brushed the hair plastered to your face back. “You’re soaked. Get caught in the rain?”

You smiled sweetly at him, leaning into the warmth of his touch. “What gave it away?”

Chan’s nose scrunched as he smiled at you, then he did something that made Changbin’s stomach turn.

He leaned in, taking you into his arms as he kissed you just as Changbin had moments ago. He heard your muffle laughs against Chan’s lips, watched as you tried to squirm away.

“You're going to get wet!”

He was going to vomit.

As if noticing him for the first time, after the kiss was broken, Chan looked up at Changbin. “Damn, you both got it pretty bad. What were you doing out there, anyway? It’s been a mess all day.”

You looked back at Changbin, eyes flashing with warning as you stared at him, awaiting his answer.

No, he really was going to throw up. Right here, in front of his friend and his best friend’s new girlfriend, who he just fucked like an animal.

His mouth was dry, hands shaking so bad that he was hoping Chan would believe he was just cold. “Just bummed a cig. That’s all.” His voice was raspy, unstable as he lied to his friend.

Then you bit your lip, smiling at Changbin in satisfaction, and he realized he would lie over and over for you just to feel your body against his again.

That’s what he was doing now. Lying to Chan for maybe the fifth time this week alone as he had you bent over in the back of the equipment van.

The van was cold, snow piling up on the front windows and getting thicker as the clock ticked on. Changbin tore every article of clothing off of you the second you shut the sliding door behind you, nails scratching into the hickeys Chan had left on your back nights ago.

At first, Changbin would worry about the marks on your back or shoulders - Chan’s claim on you. How recent were they? Did he believe Changbin’s marks were his own? Could he tell the difference?

Now, it was a game to him. Counting the bruises, daring to add more and more each time. It was almost as if he wanted Chan to find out about the two of you and what you did when he wasn’t around. How easily you fell to your knees for Changbin, how quickly your legs would spread.

He would never tell his friend, but the marks might, and that made Changbin more determined to lie for you. Even if it meant betraying the one person he knew trusted him completely.

Changbin didn’t notice how hard he was scratching until your back arched, a cry filling the van.

“Fuck, Bin.” You threw your head back, panting as you spoke. “Do it again.”

The skin was raised, purple with the threat of breaking, and yet here you were, begging him for more.

And who would he be to deny you?

He raked his nails down your back again, using his other to grasp your hair and keep your head up as he dragged his nails down your spine. “Like that? Like when I hurt you like this?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Just give me more-“

Changbin pulled you up by your hair, back slamming against his chest and sticking to it with your combined sweat. “More? You want more?” He thrusted into you harder, scratching around to your stomach and dropping lower. “You’re so fucking greedy, you know that? You get my cock and Chan’s whenever you want it, and he doesn't even know. What’s next? Going to cry to Ji for his after I fill you up?”

You chuckled, head falling onto his shoulder. He loved the way you looked like this, eyes shut and drool slowly dripping out of your mouth. So fucked out and in complete bliss. “Maybe I will. What will you do about it, huh? I’m not even yours.”

I’m not even yours.

The words bounced around his brain, bruising every corner they hit and making his body ache. It was true - you weren’t his. He was very aware of that. But to even think about it for more than three seconds made his chest ache, heart falling into the depths of his stomach.

He didn’t know who he hated more - you for making him feel this way, him for falling for you, or Chan for getting to be with you.

Fresh anger coursed through his veins as he pushed out of you, your whines from the sudden withdrawal only pissing him off more. Changbin sat on the floor of the van, back against the back doors. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap and flipping you around before he rammed himself back into you.

You cried out at the intrusion, throwing your head back in pleasure. Changbin took the opportunity to attack your neck, biting all over the pure, untainted skin.

Maybe Chan would know now. Maybe he needed to know.

“Changbin-“ Your words were unstable, syllables breaking as you tried to speak. “No. Can’t-“

“Why?” He growled, biting the side of your neck harder. It had to hurt, the way he was pulling at your skin. But he couldn’t find it in him to care; you had hurt him too much, it was only fair he got to return the favor. “I think it’s time Channie knows who fucks you better than he ever could.”

The van was squeaking with Changbin’s movements, shaking as he slammed harder into you. He continued to bite around your neck, your hands cupping his face to keep him there. It was disgusting, the way he smirked when you grabbed him. For once, he got to win, even if Chan would never know.

One of your hands traveled behind his head to grip his hair while the other found your clit, circles rubbed in time with Changbin’s thrust. “Fuck. Love when you fuck me.”

Changbin gave no response, too busy biting on you hard enough to finally break the skin. The metallic tang of blood coated his tongue, moaning at the warm feeling of it. He left the bruise to find your lips, sticking his tongue in your mouth immediately to give you a taste.

Whether your moans were from how he fucked you, or the amount of pain he continued to inflict on you, Changbin didn’t care. He never would care, so long as he was the one wrecking you.

Breaking the kiss, two fingers found the underside of your chin, tilting your head back gently. He moved your head side to side, studying the constellation of bruises. “Fucking gorgeous.” He whispered, thrusts slowing just a bit as you began to clench around his cock tighter. “My pretty little pain slut, all marked up for me.”

A gasp left your lips, lifting your hips just a bit only to slam back down on him. Changbin could reach parts you never knew existed; he was aware of that, as you had told him in a hushed whisper when he took you in a dressing room shower before a show. He made you tingle in ways that burned so good, toes curling and body shaking any time he hit those spots. It’s where he was hitting now, your entire body threatening to shatter as he fucked you closer to your end.

“Binnie.” You whined, clashing with his lips again. He favorite thing about fucking you? The way you always, always kissed him before you came. It’s what made him think you might love him the way he loves you. “Close.”

The fingers on your chin moved down to wrap around your throat. “Never have to ask.” Changbin mumbled, slowing down just a bit to ensure he kept hitting your favorite spot. “Always allowed to cum around me, princess.”

Your eyes flutter shut, letting yourself give into the bliss. Changbin hissed as the way you clenched him tighter, his orgasm threatening to break free. He wouldn’t let it - no, it was his rule with you. He would make you cum a million times before he even considered cumming at all. He didn’t give a fuck about himself, only you.

It’s always been only you.

Your sharp cry almost drowned out the muffled ringing of your phone. The two of you froze, listening to the shrill tone fill the stuffy space.

“Ignore it.” You mumbled, lifting your hips up to get things started again.

But this was an opportunity Changbin couldn’t pass up.

He reached behind you, hand diving into your bag to fish out the phone. Once he found it, he held it in the space between you two. Your expressions couldn’t be more opposite; Changbin smiling wickedly, eyes wide with excitement while you shrunk, a worried expression painting your face.

His thumb hovered over the answer button, looking you dead in the eyes. “Behave.” His command was sharp, and he gave you no time to answer before confirming the call.

“Baby?” At the sound of Chan’s voice, Changbin started to move again. “Been trying to get a hold of you for a bit. Everything okay?”

Your eyes welled with tears, riling Changbin up even more. He bit his lip to hold in his laugh, slowly deepening his thrusts. “Ye-yeah. ‘M good. Just-“ You pressed your lips together, silencing the gasp you almost released. “-Just been a bit busy.”

“Okay, good. I was getting a bit worried.” He sounded so relieved, so quick to believe your lies. His friend had always been a bit too trusting. “Are you coming out tonight?”

Changbin leaned into your chest, mouth forming around your nipple to suck and bite. He looked up at you, watching as you winced in pleasure. It was a bit sadistic, how much this made Changbin lose his mind. He should feel bad - after all, you are his best friend’s girlfriend.

But he didn’t really give a fuck, not when he could make you fall apart without even trying.

“Of course.” The tears were flowing now, dripping down your chin. Changbin’s free hand found your clit, teasing it as you spoke. “Getting dressed now.”

“Great! I’m so excited to see you. I actually wanted to talk to you about-“

Chan trailed on, the two of you unable to focus on what exactly he was saying. Changbin pulled off your nipple and muted the call. Once silenced, you finally cried out.

“Binnie, please hang up. Can’t-can’t-“

He rolled his eyes, thumb moving quicker. “Shut up.” His cock rammed into you, the pleasure overwhelming. “Cum now, with Chan on the phone, or we’re done.”

The threat was empty - he could never leave you - but fuck, the way your tears fell faster and whines grew louder was too fucking hot. You nodded quickly, agreeing with him before you unmuted the call, Chan still rambling on.

“-so I think mid set would be a good time for that. What do you think?”

“So-sounds good.” Your breathing was heavier, legs shaking around Changbin. “It’ll be good.”

“You think?” His tone was so sincere, truly valuing your bullshit opinion. “Well, what about this? So-“

Changbin hissed as you clenched around him, not bothering to slow down. You searched for his lips, finding them just as you broke, drenching Changbin’s lower body in your essence as you came hard. He allowed himself to moan quietly against your lips, rocking into you more as he chased his high.

Chan was still talking as you both finished. Changbin’s head fell against your shoulder, muffling his heavy breaths against your neck as he attempted to come down.

“I just wanted to tell you that.” God, his voice was so annoying right now. Why did Changbin even answer the call? “I do have to run. Changbin should be here soon with the equipment, but I’ll see you later, okay?”

At the sound of his name, Changbin looked up to find you staring down at him. “ ‘Kay.”

“I love you.” Chan said.

Your eyes never left Changbin’s. Black tears stained your cheeks, blood drying on your neck, sweating making your hair stick to your forehead. It wasn’t the most ideal moment; post sex with your boyfriend on the phone, but Changbin would swear you had never looked more beautiful in that moment.

The moment you locked your eyes with him, no longer speaking to Chan.

“I love you.”

[planetdemon]

zephyr

(n) a gentle breeze

pairing: seo changbin x female reader (hwang hyunjin x female reader)

genre: rebound to fwb to dumbasses to lovers(?), college!au, undergroundrappers!3racha

warnings: angst: mentions of infidelity, heartbreak and abuse, seemingly unrequited love, they are both so dumb and prideful its annoying, fluff, bad attempt at comedy, minsung on the side, cursing, alcohol consumption, smut: protected piv, oral (f), studio sex, praise, mild degradation, hair pulling, mild spanking

wc: 10k

enjoy <3

-

September

“y/n?” you hear your roommates faint voice calling out your name.

You dont bother to answer because you know she’s going to come into your room at any second now.

And you’re right. “y/n??” Your door opens a few seconds later.

You groan in response, not looking up and instead staying in your little cocoon of blankets.

“no babygirl what are you doing?” you feel the bed shift under lias weight when she sits down.

“what does it look like i’m doing?” you grumble back, her hand gently rubbing over your arm.

“sulking, babe” she replies, dropping her purse to the ground.

Weiterlesen

[planetdemon]

Okay- so I’m trying to find this skz story and I don’t know how much you can help (maybe one of your followers can help me find it) but a couple months back I read this Bangchan x Reader fanfiction, the reader was a depressed college student who found joy in Streamer!Chan, but then he quits streaming and ends up becoming her roommate after like a year of no streaming. From what I remember it was the beginning of a series and it was pretty lengthy, I just really wanna know if the author has posted more parts to it cause it was really good 😭

hmmm i can't say that I know what this fic is :/

if anyone else has the link pls lmk!!

[planetdemon]

My little flower

Disclaimer This work is for mature audience.

Pairing Fem!reader x Fiancé!Chan

Warning This work contains mature content, smut(last part), angst, fluff, slow burn(?), suggestive, make out sessions here and there, use of pet names(sweet ones), memory loss, mentions of mental breakdown, mentions of bad traits, mentions of alcohol, domestic life, engagement, breakup.

Synopsis Living the happy ever after was a dream of yours, the one movies and books mentioned and romantically pictured, especially with your lovely boyfriend. You two were together for so long that it already feels like you’re tied forever, taking it to the next step shouldn’t be a big deal. But when that accident happens, it all turns upside down.

Word count 3.1k

Chapter 2/?

A/n: I’d like to thank everyone who has even a little interest in what I write. Reblogging really helps me! Enjoy🤍

————————————————————————————

Weiterlesen

[planetdemon]

yuki’s 2021 masterlist ❄

I write for 𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙔 𝙆𝙄𝘿𝙎.

just a friendly disclaimer: my work ranges from mature (ages 16+) to explicit (ages 18+) due to content (e.g., horror, mental instability, sexual content, violence). a lot of my work contains triggering content and could be uncomfortable to read. anything with very dark or very triggering content will be available only on AO3. please read all warnings and tags with caution and stay safe! ♡

❄ 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 ❄

𝕨𝕖'𝕣𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝. | ongoing series (3/7ish chapters posted) | read me on AO3! tumblr series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

pairing: lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ tags: slow burn, angst, eventual sexual content, age difference, art student changbin, artist minho, fake dating AU. word count: 22,8k

Lee Minho, or Minho: The Heartless, is a famous artist, which comes with an annoying entourage of paparazzi that are very invested in his life.

Two years ago, a piece at UBC’s annual student’s exhibit catches Minho’s eye: “arranged: in black”, a series of greyscale paintings crafted by sophomore Seo Changbin. Minho talks with Changbin at length for hours, then offers to help him financially if they pretend to date for a while, so Minho can please the press. Naturally, a walking exhibit of the “starving artist” stereotype, Changbin accepts the offer wholeheartedly.

There are no strings attached: Changbin can leave at any time. Hell, Minho doesn’t even ask him for sex in exchange for the money, just companionship and occasional skinship. Changbin knows that Minho is emotionally damaged from several bad relationships in the past, so to have someone pay him just for providing them company is nice. Sure, he could go off and date someone and work on settling down, but he just doesn’t want to. Minho is too interesting, too valuable.

Eventually, something’s gotta give. When it does, it could potentially damage their relationship and careers forever.

Weiterlesen

[planetdemon]

fic read list (under construction)

(semi fic rec ? its all the fics that i've read)

DISCLAIMER : none of these fics are my work, im not an author, im merely a reader! the fics are linked straight to the original post by the authors <3 thank you for liking my unintentional fic rec list, it means a lot to me 😭 and please support these amazing authors and their incredible writings 💗

STRAY KIDS

bang chan

1. paris (1950s au, actor au)

2. non ducor duco (historical au, gang au)

3. the phantom (vampire au, historical au)

4. the eclipse (cop au)

5. from grace (demon au)

6. free fall ; one two three (mafia au)

7. supercut. (established relationship au)

8. chan + plushies (established relationship au)

9. [untitled] (college au)

10. domestic disturbance. (detective au, fwb trope, fake marriage trope)

11. good enough (established relationship au)

12. my house (ceo au, established relationship au)

13. [daddy issues - the nbhd] (... yeah 🧍)

14. [11:23 pm] (idol au)

lee know

1. business proposals (ceo au)

2. who are you (detective au)

3. strawberries (tattoo artist au)

4. misfits. (punk au)

5. youngblood (college au, f2l trope)

6. expectorate. (mafia au)

7. "go back to sleep." (established relationship au)

changbin

1. weight on my shoulders (social media au)

hyunjin

1. backseat driving (racer au)

2. back in time (time travel au)

3. it's knot you (soulmate au)

4. forward in time (time travel au)

5. define it (f2l trope)

6. don't wanna be friends. (pornstar au, f2l trope)

7. the duke and i (bridgerton au, f2l trope)

han

1. reverse corruption (?? au)

seungmin

1. getting to first base (highschool au)

ot8 (headcanons mostly,,)

1. when you wear their clothes

2. cockwarming

TOMORROW X TOGETHER

yeonjun

1. hasta la vista (1989 au)

2. how he deals with you being a brat (fwb trope)

3. today is the day (time travel au)

4. [untitled] (badboy au)

5. break time (college au)

6. back and forth (roommates au, s2f2l trope)

7. making out for the first time (established relationship au)

8. sober thoughts (f2l trope)

9. summer rain (summer camp au)

10. loved. (social media au)

11. pose (model au)

12. bambi (1920s au, hitman au)

13. [untitled] (established relationship au)

14. you're fucked up but so am i (revenge au)

15. seesaw (social media au)

16. the story of us (social media au)

17. 10:20 am (college au)

18. wheresoever you go (established relationship au)

19. dancing with your ghost (ghost au)

20. sneaky link (college au)

21. playboy (model au)

22. till' the end of summer (college au, ALSO MY FAVORITE SERIES OH MY GOD)

23. the art of (mis)communication (bf2e2l trope)

24. punishment (?? au)

25. you see love is a game (and i still want to play) [college au]

26. make a wish (?? au)

27. see the stars (established relationship au)

soobin

1. perfectly perfect (highschool au)

2. clingy much? (werewolf au)

3. game over (college au)

4. one last present (established relationship au)

5. mr. choi (neighbour au)

6. down the aisle (wedding planner au)

7. paper hearts (1980s au)

8. [8:23 pm] (neighbour au)

9. 17:53 (established relationship au)

10. 2:30 am (strangers au)

11. stuck on you (social media au)

12. new rules (idol au)

13. little bunny (idol au)

14. 33 (best friends pining trope)

15. saint (highscool au)

16. [10:33 am] (established relationship au)

17. d r a m a (social media au)

beomgyu

1. you're the one that i want (college au)

2. voices (soulmate au, s2e2l trope)

3. the prince and the jackal (fantasy au)

4. journey with you (fantasy au)

5. silver nights (social media au)

6. listen before i go (social media au)

taehyun

1. beverly hills (e2l trope)

2. when the ice begins to thaw (fantasy au)

3. underneath the golden sun (guardian angel au, soulmate au)

4. hero (social media au)

hueningkai

1. 7:12 a.m. (hybrid au)

2. long live the king (royalty au, f2l trope)

3. princeps caeli (fantasy au)

4. thank you, barista boy (college au, barista au)

ot5 (headcanons mostly,,)

1. reaction to you receiving a lot of anonymous love letters

2. what he'd call you

3. reacting to having a small s/o

misc.

1. cat & mouse (college au, fwb trope) ; jaemin

2. demon days (demon au, college au) ; san

3; doll (?? au) ; sunghoon

4. smoky aura (neighbour au) ; johnny

[planetdemon]

the chance of love | bang chan

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒!𝐀𝐔

✑ Red pen, empty classrooms, and an overheard phone call:

The one where you’re determined to find one flaw about your seemingly picture-perfect class president, and he’s determined to make sure you pass the class—no matter how hard you’re trying to fail.

✑ PAIRING: student council president!bang chan x troublemaker!reader

✑ GENRE: high society/private school!au, retro!high school au, slow burn, slice-of-life romance, enemies-to-lovers, angst 

✑ WORD COUNT: 13.8k

✖︎ TAGS/WARNINGS: fem!reader, mild language, bullying & family conflict themes, mentions of drugs/illicit activity. endless petty shenanigans (mostly from mc). y/n also has a bad relationship with her parents and a hard time facing her feelings in general (don’t we all). fortunately, chan’s patience—and tendency to use bad math pickup lines—could help with that.

disclaimer: levanter high is a private school only in this au. all the characters’ roles have stayed the same.

“F. Again.”

Snickers erupted around the classroom as your teacher flipped the mock exam paper onto your desk, shaking her head. Sure enough, scrawled across the front page in ruthless red ink, was your latest score—a solid 29/100. Shrugging, you rolled up the test papers before stuffing them into your backpack like a dejected morning newspaper.

“See me after class, Miss L/n.” Your teacher clicked her tongue in disappointment. Whispers from the back of the class began pricking at your ears.

“Isn’t she the eldest daughter of the Yuhan family? The first in line to inherit a multimillion dollar business.”

“The spring exams are right around the corner. If she flunks those, she won’t even graduate—let alone inherit a whole company!”

Their giggles died down the moment you turned around, the huddle of kids scrambling back to their seats and burying their noses in their books. One girl even flashed you an innocent smile.

If she flunks, she won’t even graduate—let alone inherit the company! 

Despite their scornful tone, the words made you smile. Clasping your hands behind your head lazily, you leaned back in your chair and let your eyes fall shut.

Well. That’s the plan.  

Weiterlesen

[planetdemon]

Hi, I've been trying to read 'who even needs a daddy' but i can't seem to find parts 1-4, help 😭

Hey Nonnie! I keep saying that I have to re-do that masterlist but I am also terribly lazy, sorry! https://aegrotamograine.tumblr.com/masterlist Here's the one on Tumblr, but if that, for some reason, doesn't work, here's the same work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30950084/chapters/76437008 I hope you enjoy it! <3

[planetdemon]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[planetdemon]

Trash Day [requested/m]

Bang Chan x oc female.

this is smut.

2k words

WARNINGS: protected sex. angst. language. roommates to lover au

a/n: read at your own risk. thanks for reading. goodnight.

this is a continuation of Choose Your Own Adventure #1 for Bang Chan that was requested

You let out a grunt of frustration as you dig through your dresser drawer. You can’t find the shirt you wanted to wear, and you are already running late for work. You finally give up and just grab a red t-shirt, pulling it on as you rush out of your room.

You only pause by the kitchen to grab a package of pop-tarts, barely waving hi to Chan, who was leaning against the counter drinking coffee. “You’re a whirlwind this morning,” he comments.

You glance at him, coming to a stop, and make a face at him. He was shirtless, in basketball shorts, and had the cutest “I woke up like this” bedhead that you’ve ever seen. You silently curse yourself for finding it attractive, and for the fact that you were becoming more and more attracted to him. He is your roommate and friend. That’s it. “Late,” you mutter, finally tearing your gaze from him so you can head to the front door.

“You know it’s okay to be late once and awhile!” he calls after you.

“Not when my job is on the line! My boss is a dick,” you respond, double checking everything in your purse. “Oh, can you take out the garbage? I was going to do it before I left, but no time.”

He saunters out of the kitchen, coffee mug still in hand, and nods at you. “Yeah. No worries. Get going. I’ll see you later,” he says with a sleepy smile.

You nod and pull the door open. “Thanks. I’ll do the dishes when I get home. Later!” you say as you close the door. You let out a sigh and run a hand through your hair, knowing it was going to be a long day, especially once your boss got on to you about your tardiness.

Keep reading

[planetdemon]

Request; Too Much (755)

Genre; Angsty, fluff

Warnings; Food, Weightloss Diet

Pairing; Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x gender-neutral reader

[A/N: It’s not really a request, but I’ll mark it as one. Anyways, thank you so much for letting me do this. I know it’s not that long and also not that good but I hope it still comforts you. Also as I already said, if you want me to do a part 2 just let me know!]

I felt paralysed. My gaze was rigid, and my hands were shaking. I could no longer taste the bleak taste of the food in my mouth. I could no longer feel the wooden table under my arms or hear the gentle words of my boyfriend. I was gone. It was like I was in another world. In a prison of worry, despair and pain.

A bright clink tore me out of this world, but it couldn’t get me out of the prison. My fork had fallen out of my hand. I looked down at my plate, on which the fork was now bathed in food, and I sighed.

“Do you want me to get you a new one?”, He asked without the slightest hint of impatience in his tone. I shook my head and put my plate away to get the food on it out of my sight. “It’s all right. I wasn’t hungry anyways.”, I gave him in response.

“Did you not like it?” He didn’t even pay any attention to my lie. We both knew what I was saying wasn’t the truth. And we both knew I wasn’t attempting to be convincing. And even if I was, my grumbling stomach would have given me away. Chan wasn’t angry with me ether. All he exuded, all I could see in his eyes and hear in his voice, was concern.

“No, no. It was really good, don’t worry.” I was already sitting again when I told him this.

“Is it because of what the doctor said? But the plan says it would be okay!” The diet plan. What Chan said was true. According to the plan, I could have eaten what was in my plate. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t have the strength to do it. “Chris don’t worry. I really wasn’t hungry anymore.” I repeated my lie to show him that I wasn’t interested in talking any more. But he didn’t stop: “Is it because the whole thing is new to you? I get that! But trust me, sticking to the plan is the best you can do in this situation!”

Of course, he saw through me. Of course, he knew where my decision originated from. And yet he was way off. “No, it’s not that. Please just let it be, okay? Don’t worry, it’s all good.” Another lie.

Another lie that Chan could see through. He cupped my hand in his and ran his thumb over the back of my hand. His soft and at the same slightly rough skin triggered a warm feeling inside of me, which showed outward through goosebumps. My heart was pounding. Inside me there has been so much coldness and darkness ever since I learnt about it that this feeling of sheer warmth and safety has gotten so unfamiliar. So beautifully strange.

“It’s not that this is my first time. Not at all.”, I began with a trembling voice and wet eyes. Chan moved closer and put his arm around me protectively. Before I went any further with telling my story, I buried my face on his shoulder to dry my tears. “It’s not my first time.”, I revealed with my face still pressed tightly against his shoulder.

Chan said nothing. Not because he didn’t know what to say. Not because he didn’t understand me. He was quiet to give me the time to tell what was bothering me.

“5 years. This long, Chan. I’ve been trying for so long. I’ve done all this countless times. I tortured myself so many times. But did it help anything?”

I sobbed.

“No! Never! Nothing at all has ever changed! Even though I wanted it so badly! And now that it must change, what is different now?”

I hold onto him tightly.

“Nothing is different! I can’t do this. It’s too much, I’m done. I’m exhausted. I can’t take it again. I can’t fail again. But how am I supposed to do that? What? Is? Different? Now?”

Chan stayed quiet. But I said everything I could. I was done. Done with talking. But the tears still ran down my face. More than before. My nerves were quite frayed. I just couldn’t listen to him right now. Not until I calmed down, at least.

“What’s different this time?”

His voice was soothing, his words deliberate.

“This time you are not alone.”

He stroked my back.

“I’ll help you. I’m with you.”

He hugged me properly and suddenly, I felt something inside of me.

Something bright and light.

Confidence.

tags; @jisungsmysugadaddy @poeticnotions @hyunsluvv

[planetdemon]

Timing has always been shit. For us, it made me love you without giving me reasons and then took me away from you right after you spared me the first few words.

word count: 2.365k

warnings: sporadic mature language

genre: angst

song: Hand Over Hand - Roland Faunte

Dear stranger,

Timing has always been shit.

It does seemingly mindless things such as getting you to cross a street a minute before the love of your life does, making the supposedly magical meeting not happen, ever.

For us, it made me love you without giving me reasons and then took me away from you right after you spared me the first few words.

So yes, time has and will always be shit, because it has a way of working that I’ll never comprehend.

Just like time, there are a lot of other uncertainties in this world, some of them being if you would laugh at the terribly bad jokes I tend to make and if we would’ve ever gone for that cup of coffee I never had the courage to ask if you wanted. Life in itself is a big uncertainty but gladly for you there are a lot of certain things that I can and want to share with you.

The first one is that you can and at some point will end up falling in love with a complete stranger; you were that complete stranger for me.

I can remember the first day you began using the same subway line as I did for the past three years. You entered the wagon with the same speed and agitation that you made your way into my heart with; there was just something about seeing you out of breath and with your hair a complete mess of endearing curls that got me.

Your hands were coated with a shy pink, credit of the ruthless cold that the snow and the middle of November can bring; I still wonder why weren’t you wearing gloves that one time or the many other ones after that.

From your neck hung a pair of headphones whose cord travelled all the way to the black bag hanging from your shoulder which you proceeded to close when you noticed the zipper was half open.

You chuckled into the air as if someone had seen your mishap, which I did, but without looking away from the floor. That one time you didn’t give me a chance to see your eyes, later I found them to be a pool of warm chocolate that lured me into never looking away.

The whole journey seemed to take twice as long but I didn't really mind, it became a pleasing routine that I wouldn't want to change for anything in the world.

Clumsy steps guided your way outside the wagon; lately I wonder with even more fervor where you were going at six a.m. every single day?

That takes me into the second certain thing; you’ve been going to the same place for almost a whole year, every single day at the same exact hour. I can only hope that your destination has something that you truly love and cherish; I simply can’t or don’t want to imagine you as the person whose job doesn’t fulfill them.

From November to September I saw you change with the seasons, saw your hoodies change into occasional cardigans and hoodies again, your hair go from a soft vanilla tone to a deep black that matched the clothes you wore every day, saw you grow into a routine that I’ll always wish to be a part of.

Third thing, you’ll always be important to someone without having a clue.

I looked forward to seeing you every morning, to notice as many details of you as possible so that I could store them in a special place in my heart, somewhere I would never lose them.

You became a vital part of my days and nights.

All of those mornings gave me even more certain things to mention; if your dimples were holes in the middle of the ground more than one would willingly let themselves fall, your eyes completely disappear when you laugh sincerely, you are not the tallest one out of all of your friends, sometimes you don’t care enough to arrange the mess of curls atop your head until you catch a glimpse of yourself and get flustered, when you get flustered your ears turn to cherries, you haven’t finished the book you began reading on February, as a matter of fact you gave up on it a week into reading it.

Certain thing number I don’t even know anymore, the first time that you looked at me time seemed to stop and for the rest of the day I was so high up in the clouds that I almost didn’t care that my roommate completely ignored it was her turn to do the dishes and take out the trash.

It happened at the beginning of January and I truly believe that it would’ve happened way earlier if only I didn't have the habit of turning around every time that I felt like you would look my way.

Our eyes suddenly met as we both seemed to scan our surroundings and we just stared, I stared at you until you looked away and you stared at me until you couldn’t contain the wide smile that curled your lips upwards a second after you looked away from my direction.

Never in my life had I ever felt so comfortable looking at someone, from there onwards there wasn’t a moment in which I was scared to stare at you or where I stopped myself from smiling at you. I just hope that my smiles made you at least half as happy as yours made me.

Last certain thing that I wish to mention is that even though I wouldn’t change the last months for nothing I would like to change how our last meeting went.

Days were finally turning less muggy and giving way to a cold breeze that made morning strolls quite pleasing. My alarm didn’t go off but for a weird reason I woke up just in time to run and catch you before the subway took you away.

The first thing that greeted me when I stepped inside the wagon were your eyes looking around and stopping right when you saw me. That morning I had the pleasure of receiving another dashing smile of yours.

Just like you always did, you took off one of your earbuds and looked towards the floor with a hopeful smile.

I don’t know who is the biggest fool out of the two of us, you for waiting for me to make the first move and walk up to you or me for thinking that you’d always be there until I gathered the courage to tell you that I loved you.

What I do know is that while I was mulling over all of the uncertainties of our existence my keys slipped out of my hands and ended up right in front of your feet because if time has always hated us, then destiny loved us enough to give us many chances to make the most of each other.

With a shy smile I tried to get them but you were faster than me and met my hand half way with my keys already in your grasp.

I never felt so grateful for feeling at a loss of words because when I made a pause after saying thank you, you immediately filled it in with your name.

My life felt weirdly complete, even though it wasn't because I had yet to get the chance to hear your voice many more times, I should get another thousand mornings to smile at you from afar and perhaps sometime in the future be able to sit by your side instead of right across from you.

But changing how that morning went would mean changing the comfortable silence that came right after our exchange, not being able to pay as much attention as I did to the tingling sensation the pads of your fingers left on my palm, ultimately, it would mean changing who I am and right now it is a little bit late to try.

So yes, Chan, time is shit and for us it made a detailed story of how we never met.

Without fail he would make his way through partially empty streets every morning, tracing his steps all the way to the subway where his hope to see you would double its presence on his chest.

He hadn’t had the luck to come across you for the last week or so, it made him worry and worrying made him feel silly, because he didn’t even know your name or if your sudden disappearance from his morning routine meant something negative for you, even if it was for him.

Still, he felt like something must be wrong; days somehow looked a little bit duller since your seat was left empty and even more when someone sat there seeing an empty space right where he could only see your seat, one that was exclusively placed across from his so that you could look at each other without obstruction.

Today as he made his way inside he found an answer to the soft aching of his heart, an answer to your absence and to how it felt to be out of breath in one of the worst possible ways.

An envelope had been carefully placed where he normally sat, with black ink his name stood out from the pristine white paper that seemed slightly crinkled in some places.

Of course he took it and read its content without knowing what to expect but having a feeling that it was the pair of curious eyes that surveyed him every morning who were behind the letter.

For the next twenty minutes out of the usual thirty that it would take him to reach his stop he read through the lines that would become blurry when his eyes welled up with enough tears to threaten to spill. He didn’t understand what was going on, all he knew is that he wanted, needed, to see you.

Ten minutes passed and he kept sitting there on his usual spot that would surely be occupied by someone else once he stood up; he wondered how you had felt seeing someone else sitting across from you, because he knew that for him it was an awful and almost surreal experience.

His stop passed by and all he could care about were the thoughts of everything he wanted to say to you; in the tip of his tongue were all the explanations behind everything you had written on your letter and he wanted you to know them, he wanted to tell you and see the same spark of happiness glimmer on your eyes at least one more.

He wanted you to know that the very first time he decided to take the subway back in November was because he was running late and couldn’t afford to walk like he did every morning before that; he was late for work, a work that he loved doing with every cell in his body, he wanted you to know that too.

Carefully he wanted to explain that he had been a complete idiot for not noticing you at first but that he thanked destiny every day that passed because the next morning and the next one after that he had chosen to ride the subway to work and ditched the routine he had before that.

From the bottom of his heart he wanted to let you know that he thought your smile was one of the best parts of his mornings, that he would never be able to look at his dimples the same way because now he knew you liked them, that he wanted you to meet Seungmin and Hyunjin who you had surely seen him with that one time if you claimed him to be shorter than his friends, that he had began reading the book Seungmin had gifted him last Christmas once again, this time with the determination to finish it.

Three stops later he became aware that he never knew where your stop was despite you being fully aware of his, but he stepped out and walked towards the street with a speed that almost fooled him into believing that you would be waiting for him outside.

He wanted to tell you that he would’ve accepted going out for coffee with you even if he hated coffee because of the strong taste of it, wished to assure you with certainty that he would laugh rather sincerely at any joke you made because your laugh was as contagious and utterly beautiful as your smiles.

An unfamiliar street stretched before his eyes, orbs that scanned the whole place frantically in hopes of finding your figure somewhere along the people who walked past by him without sparing him a second look.

Reality washed over him after a couple of minutes, there was no chance of him finding you when he didn’t even know the first thing about you, he only knew you were absolutely right, one day everyone falls in love with a complete stranger and you had been that stranger for him.

He didn’t even know your name and yet there he was, experiencing a heartbreak in the middle of the street, one so strong and ruthless that he almost felt his knees give up on him at the same time that air was knocked out of his lungs. What he had in front of him was nothing more than a street, no special stranger in front him.

Tears escaped from his eyes and danced across his cheeks on their way down before they were dried by the cool air of the morning.

He also wished he had changed something the very last time he saw you, he wished with all of his heart to go back and have the courage of holding you close to him, to at least know what you smelt like and how it felt to hold you in between his arms.

Instead, all he had left of you was an empty seat across from him on the subway, a letter that was now crumpled on his fist and a detailed story of how you never met.

[planetdemon]

Vice | Bang Chan x Reader

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: this fic contains lots of mentions of drinking and alcoholism, so if that’s not for you, then don’t read this, and there’s mentions of sex but there’s no smut, mentions of sex while drunk (reader and idol under the influence)

requested: nope, i got sad so i wrote angst lol

word count: 1.7k

proofread: a little bit

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz

a/n: i didn’t spend much time on this so i’m sorry it’s poorly written :( if parts don’t make sense please let me know and i’ll try to fix it

____________________

the edge of your glass rests upon your bottom lip when you see him. he stands by one of the few tables in the club, resting his weight upon his forearms. he looks up, his eyes searching the room before looking back down at his phone, a frown forming on his face.

you’ve seen many attractive men in your life, but there’s something about him. he’s enticing, alluring, and he hasn’t even looked at you. his dark hair is messy, intentionally so, and he looks so beautiful under the moving lights. normally you wouldn’t have the confidence to approach him, but the liquid courage flows steadily through you, and you find yourself walking towards him without too much forethought.

“hi,” you say, nerves a little more apparent now that you’re in front of him.

he looks at you, standing up straighter before he speaks.

“hello,” he replies. his tone is warm but still sceptical. you can almost see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to work out if he knows you or not.

“i’m y/n. sorry if this is weird, but you’re quite cute so i thought i’d come say hi,” you smile, but you can tell your smile looks awkward.

“huh?” he says, leaning in closer to hear you over the loud music.

your face heats up, but you raise your voice and repeat yourself anyway. you’ve already approached him, might as well commit to it.

“ah,” he says, his hand rising to rub absentmindedly at the back of his neck, a shy smile forming on his face.

“sorry, was that too forward of me?” you take a sip of your drink in an attempt to calm your growing nerves.

“nah, it’s just not very often i get called cute.” he chuckles, and the soft laughter sends a warmth through your heart.

“what? really? it would appear that i have to right this horrible wrong.” another chuckle, and it makes you happy to know you’re the one making him smile and laugh.

“oh, really now?” you nod in response, taking another sip of your drink as you watch the way his eyes sparkle in the dim light of the club. “i’m chan, by the way.”

“you here with anyone?”

he shakes his head before answering. “nah, i was meeting up with a friend but he just messaged saying he’s not coming.”

“damn, that’s no fun,” you reply.

“yeah, but at least you’re here so maybe tonight won’t be such a bust after all.” it’s the way he says it, the teasing, flirting tone that has your heart almost skipping a beat.

“can i buy you a drink in exchange for your company for the night then?” you ask.

after a quick nod of his head, you both walk up to the bar. he orders a drink while you down the rest of yours and quickly order another one. you can barely hear the bartender tell you the price over the thumping of the bass, but you swipe your card, nonetheless.

you drag chan to the dance floor, standing in front of him and beginning to grind back against him in time to the music. he downs half his drink before planting one of his hands on your hip, beginning to move his own with you.

the night carries on, the time spent dancing and drinking together, making out against the wall near the back of the club. you and chan have both lost count of how many drinks you’ve had, but that doesn’t stop him from ordering an uber and taking you back to his place.

when you wake in the morning it’s to an empty bed, and it takes you a moment to realise that you’re not in your own room. you think back, and your most vivid memory is of chan’s lips pressed against your neck while his hands roamed your body. you smile as the rest of last night’s events return to you.

you sit up, ignoring the way your head sways and throbs slightly at the movement. you grab your clothes, slowly getting dressed. the walk out of the bedroom is slow, and all you can think about is how dry your mouth feels. you don’t make it far out of the room before you’re almost colliding with chan’s chest.

“oh,” he exclaims, surprised to run into you. “i was just coming to see if you were awake.”

you look at him, your eyes squinting from the sunlight, and you can make out the smile on his face. it’s shy, just like the one when you told him he was cute the night before. and there’s something about his smile that’s contagious, prompting you to return a smile of your own.

“i’m awake,” you reply, voice still thick with sleep.

“i can tell. i was gonna make us breakfast but i kinda ended up burning it. so should we order something? my shout?”

you’re surprised, really. you were expecting him to kick you out, to send you on your merry way after a night of passion. but here he is, offering to order you breakfast. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but accept.

it’s nearing midday before you have to leave, chan having work in the afternoon. you exchange numbers before you go, promising to message and hopefully turn this one night stand into something more.

your relationship with chan blossoms from there, a couple of weeks spent getting to know each other a bit better before he officially asks you out. it was sweet, the way he did it. a crisp autumn evening curled up on his couch where he asks you the question. but, truth be told, that was the moment it went downhill.

it took him almost three months to notice. or maybe it just took him that long to admit it to himself. he truly wanted to look past the issue, he didn’t want to believe it to be true. but when it caused you to lose your job, he couldn’t ignore your drinking any longer.

looking back on those three months, he knows he should’ve realised sooner. it should have clicked in his mind when most of your dates were spent together in the clubs, dancing and drinking until you could barely stand. even when you weren’t going on dates, just time spent together in the evenings always included you with a drink constantly in your hand.

he wants the best for you, he doesn’t want to see you drown in the alcohol any more than you already are. it’s hard for him, and the months that follow his realisation are filled with countless arguments as he tries desperately to help you escape the clutches of your addiction. but you refuse to see the truth, you refuse to accept that you need help. and chan can’t take it anymore.

your phone buzzes with a message and you pick it up, seeing chan’s name on your screen.

chan: i’m coming over. i’ll be there in 10

you sit back against the couch, staring at the tv while you wait for him to show up. he’s right on time when you hear his rhythmic knock at your apartment door. dragging yourself to your feet, you walk over opening the door for him to enter.

he steps inside, closing the door behind him as he watches you walk towards the living room. he follows you, sighing heavily when he notices the almost empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. it wasn’t a surprise to see it sitting there, but he still hates the sight.

“how much have you had?”

his question hangs heavy in the air as he awaits your answer, but you don’t give one. you seldom do. in the past, he wouldn’t push you to answer, but this time he does. he has to. he needs you to recognise that you have a problem.

“y/n? how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“why does it matter how much i’ve had?” you say, refilling your empty glass from the bottle and taking a sip, feeling the way it burns a path down your throat.

“because i need to have a serious chat with you, but i can’t do that if you’re drunk.”

“oh? a serious talk? are you here to berate me again?”

“berate you? y/n, i’m trying to help you. i’ve been trying to help you for months.” he runs a hand down his face, trying to calm his growing frustration. “look, i don’t want to do this, okay? i don’t want to break up with you.”

“wait, you’re breaking up with me?”

he pauses, releasing a heavy sigh, laden with sadness. one exhale of air and you can hear the mental exhaustion chan has been dealing with. and it hurts to know you’re the cause of it.

“i am.”

“but why?”

“because i can’t keep doing this. i’ve tried to help you. you say you’ll stop drinking but you don’t. i want to keep helping you, i want you to get better for your own sake. but i can’t be in a relationship with you right now.”

“so you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“i do, y/n, believe me, i do want to be with you. but i can’t. you’re not okay, and this relationship is taking a toll on me,”

“but i am okay,”

“no, you’re not. people who are okay don’t act like this. they don’t spend this much time drinking. alcohol isn’t going to solve your problems. and even if it somehow did, it wouldn’t matter because it’s only causing you new ones.”

there’s a slew of emotions coursing through you. anger, frustration, sadness. and all you can do to keep them at bay is take another swig of vodka, this time straight from the bottle.

“i’d like for you to leave now.”

“y/n-”

“get out of my apartment.” chan hates the sight of the bottle in your hand, but he hates the crack in your voice more. he wants to hold you, to hug you tight and promise you that you’ll get through this. but he knows that if he stays any longer then you’ll only end up yelling at him.

the alcohol swimming through your veins does little to numb the sting in your heart when he leaves. and it’s only when you hear that door close that you let the tears fall. your relationship with chan felt doomed from the beginning. it began with a drink in your hand, and it ended with one too.

[planetdemon]

-- YOU KNOW I LOVE YOU?

↳ pairing: bang chan x reader

↳ genre: angst, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff

↳ warnings: body image, self-hatred, mental health

↳ word count: 1,073

↳ prompt: You are having a mental battle with yourself on your appearance when Chan/Chris pulls you out of the said mindset and you cuddle on the sofa until you fall asleep in each other's arms.

The water bordering on scolding cascaded down your back, burning your skin the same way your tears were burning your eyes. You scrubbed fiercely at your stomach, your thighs, your arms, hoping the more vigorously you rubbed, somehow the fat would just fade away.

You were normally okay about how you perceived your own appearance, but the second you were in the embrace of your showers 4 walls, your mind was clouded with pain like the steam that surrounded you. Holding you tightly in its grasp.

You've probably been sitting on the cold tiled floor for an hour now, keeping track of the time when left alone with your thoughts tended to be harder than you thought. You couldn't help but stay curled up on the floor, perhaps if you stayed there long enough the fragility in your mental health would run down the drain along with the soap suds.

You were so lost in your self-hatred you didn't hear the bathroom door opening and closing, the shower door sliding allowing the man you didn't want to see you like this sit behind you on the floor. "Chris-" He shushes you and wraps you up in his arms. Embracing you in a different kind of warmth to the water that's still begging for your attention on your now sensitive skin.

You stayed wrapped up like this for a few minutes while Chris waited for you to calm down. You looked down at his hands, noticing how they couldn't make it all the way around you and tried to pull him off of you in shame. Chris retaliated by grasping onto you tighter, pulling your naked form closer to his clothed one. "I'm sorry Chris."

He presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, opting to rest his chin on your shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for, princess." His calm breathing in your ear has calmed you down to a point you didn't think he could achieve without saying anything.

You opened your mouth a few times trying to get something, anything out but you just can't put any words together that'll explain why you're the way you are. "I just don't, I can't look at myself." The tears threatened to spill past your lash line, resting your head back on Chris's shoulder in a poor attempt to stop the tears from falling.

"I know, baby." He rubs comforting shapes on your stomach for a minute or two before speaking again. "Why don't we get up off the floor and talk on the sofa?" You looked down at his hands again, they were so beautiful. Rough but so gentle. Nodding, Chris stands up and offers you a hand up. Taking his offer you think about how grateful that these hands and the man they're connected to are all yours. Somehow.

Chris quickly leaves to grab himself a dry set of clothes, coming back with new shorts on and no shirt, he hands you your robe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, helping you put it on one sleeve at a time. But not before you could take in his toned stomach. So much flatter than yours. You thank him quietly and watch him as he grabs a towel from the shelf beside the marble vanity. He takes your hand and walks you out of the bathroom to the living room.

Chris sits on the sofa and you take your seat on the floor right in front of him fitting snugly between his legs. You both sit in a loving and comfortable silence as Chris dries your hair carefully with the towel. This was your routine after every shower that left you in this state. You did the same for Chris one night when he was having a particularly hard night.

There's something so intimate about a task as simple as drying your partner's hair after a shower. Chris dropped the damp towel onto the floor beside you and helped you up onto the sofa, placing you right next to him. He pulled you into him, kicking your legs up onto the sofa you lay against him, finally taking the chance to take in his scent. Melting into him, he runs his fingers up and down your thigh. "You're so breathtaking, here in my arms. All mine."

You look up at him, making eye contact for the first time since you left for a shower in the first place. The blue contacts he had in making you smile up at him. You loved that colour, it made his already golden complexion appear ten times more caramelised. Your eyes flitter to his lips, of course, he notices. He kisses you ever so gently, it's a simple but loving exchange. Pulling away he smiles at you, the look on his face reads as though you're something as valuable as air.

"You know I love you?" You nod.

"You know you're everything I want and more?" You hesitate.

"You are worth so much more than you know. To have you in my arms right now is a blessing, you are more than I could ever ask for." You can't help but look away, you pull your legs closer to your chest to try and hide away from your lovers gaze. Chris squeezes your thigh, prompting you to straighten out again. "I mean every word."

You relax into him again, "You know you're everything I want and more?" He repeats himself, sounding like less of a question this time and more of a statement. You nod. You don't hesitate this time, you really do believe him. "Good girl." Those words fall from his lips like honey, you pull him into another kiss, hastier than the last one. You wanted to taste the sweetness of his words while you could. Chris smiles against your lips.

Resting your head against his bare chest now, you snuggle into him more and caress his stomach the same way he did yours earlier. He chuckles quietly and takes your hand, kissing your palm before he puts your hand back on his stomach, resting his hand on top of yours.

You close your eyes and exhale, all of the stress, doubt and disrespect for your own body leaving you in one breath. "Thank you, Chris." He hums and intertwines his fingers with yours. Closing his eyes too, you both fall asleep tangled in each other on the sofa.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

This has been cross-posted on Wattpad, AO3 and Asianfanfics.

Wattpad ↳ 1-27am

AO3 ↳ daeguchu

Asianfanfics ↳ shineeshining

[planetdemon]

Love the way you hate me - Bang Chan enemies to lovers College AU

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, reader is a virgin, multiple smut scenes, slight triggerish themes

I started writing this while I was hammered, so if there’s any spelling errors, I’m sorry LMAO

You’ve always hated him. His hair, his face, his sexy jawline, his cute dimple, all of it. But most of all, you hated the butterflies that would erupt in your stomach everytime he was near you.

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