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[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ STOCKHOLM. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : bang chan x female reader

TROPE. age gap! au (chan is 37, reader is 18), kidnapper x kidnapped

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, nineteen-year age gap, kidnapping, reader falls in love with her kidnapper, sadism + masochism

SYNOPSIS. on the morning of january first, y/n wakes up chained to a wall, stripped to her undergarments, and a camera pointed right at her. strangely enough, behind the camera is what looks like a harmless, friendly, incredibly attractive man. as y/n and the mysterious Bang Chan begin to learn more about each other, y/n finds herself succumbing to stockholm syndrome: falling in love with her very own kidnapper

SMUT WARNINGS. sadism + masochism, use of vibrator, some non-con themes, sextape making, overstimulation + edging, corruption kink, exhibitionism, dumbification kink

As your eyes opened, you expected to wake up somewhere you didn't know. You were absolutely wasted the night before - New Year's Eve - and you had been almost one-hundred percent sure you would wake up in someone else's bed. However, you hadn't imagined that you would wake up with shackles around your ankles and wrists, keeping you tight against a concrete wall in a cold room that somewhat resembled your great-grandmother's basement.

You're flabbergasted, to say the last. In all of your years getting drunk and fucking random people, you had never been kidnapped. And either this guy was really fucking kinky, or you had been kidnapped.

You suspect the latter, seeing the tape recorder set up on a tripod in front of you, facing you. As you survey your surroundings, you also take in your attire - completely nude, spare for your lacy white bra and matching panties, complete with a small white bow.

"Morning."

You look up, startled at the handsome guy that you hadn't noticed enter the room.

"Y/N, right? I'm not sure I caught your name last night."

You vaguely remember his face as one of the guys you had danced with the night before, letting him grind up against you and grope your body to the beat of the music. You nod at him.

"Do you know why you're here, Y/N?"

You shake your head, staying silent.

"I find you quite beautiful, actually." The man has a thick Australian accent, one you're sure you remember from the party. "Really, a work of art. An ass to kill for, and apparently, unmatched intelligence."

"That's just a rumor," you say finally.

"Ahhhh, she speaks. You have such a pretty voice, sweetie." He sends you a dimpled smile. "I really don't think it is, though. Your IQ is three higher than that of Albert Einstein. Do you know what that means, sweetheart?"

You watch him, waiting for an answer.

"It means you are a certified genius." The man's smile drops. "This is why you've peaked my interest."

"'Cause I'm good at taking tests?" you ask softly.

He shakes his head. "Much more than that. I want to pick your brain apart, pretty girl. I wanna find out what makes you tick." Then, he smiles again, wickedly. "But more than that, I want to humiliate and violate you in ways you wouldn't have thought possible."

So that's what he is, you think to yourself. A psycho with a god complex.

"Do you think I can do that?" he asks.

"Do what?"

"Everything I just said."

"Yes I do."

He tilts his head at me. "Giving in so easy?"

"What else should I do?"

He moves closer to you, taking your chin in his hand and examining your face. "I suppose you're right."

You watch him, utterly stunned at how fucking exquisite your kidnapper's appearance is.

He backs away from you now, moving behind the tape recorder. He repositions it so that it's trained on you, then turns the viewing component of it so that you can see yourself, dangling helplessly and half-naked from the wall. "I'm going to start, yes?"

You nod slowly. You know that fighting whatever this man was about to do to you would be futile, so you waited and watched, eyelashes fluttering.

He retrieves a knife from a table of dangerous-looking utensils off to your left, returning to you.

"What should I call you?" you ask him suddenly, dreading the feel of the knife tracing your skin.

"Chris," he says simply. "In Korea, they call me Chan. Here they call me Chris."

"Chris? Or Chan? Which do you prefer?"

He tilts his head, as if puzzled by the question. "I'm not sure."

"I like Chan. It suits your face."

"Does it now?"

You nod, humming a "yes."

Chan's lips quirk up in a half-smile, and you find yourself smiling back. "First things first," he says after a moment, "I need to mark you."

"Mark me?"

He nods. "It won't hurt long, love." He moves around you, to your left side, and grasps your thigh gently. You bite back a gasp, watching as he lifts the knife. It's digging into your skin before you can protest, drawing a thin line of scarlet over the plush skin. You register in your mind it hurts, but it fascinates you to watch, taking your thoughts off the pain and onto the beauty of the letters that he's now carved into your leg. B.C., in small, pretty writing right in the middle of your thigh.

"Painful?" he asks, moving back to the table to the side and retrieving some sort of paper towel, returning to you and gently dabbing at the blood.

You blink. "A little."

"You didn't scream," he says.

"I didn't."

"I wish you would have."

"Would you like me to now?"

"No, sweetheart, don't force it."

You're surprised at how easy this conversation comes to you. This man just cut his initials into your thigh, and all you could think about were his pretty dimples and crinkly eyes.

"Where are you from?" you ask.

Chan looks up at you. "You baffle me," he says, examining you. Then, "I was born in Seoul, but I grew up in Sydney." He pauses. "You?"

You tell him where you were born, surprised at how intently he listened to you.

"I like hearing you speak," he says. "Your voice is beautiful."

You stay quiet, unsure what to think.

"I bet your screams would be beautiful too." A mischievous expression flits across his face. "You know what I bet would be the most beautiful of all?" He leans in close to you, so that his lips are right next to your ear. "Your moans."

You blink dumbly up at him.

"Look at you." He cradles your cheek in his hand, watching you with a bittersweet expression. "Intelligence already crumbling. I thought you'd last longer, sweetie."

You're tongue-tied, both disgusted and turned on by the sadistic words.

He pats your cheek once, twice, then turns away. "I'll be back later to bring you dinner, and a fun little toy."

"What am I supposed to do until then?" you ask quickly, desperate for him not to leave you. As much as you don't want to be down here with him, you even less want to be down here without him.

He shrugs. "You'll find something." Then he pauses. "Actually . . . would you like your toy early, hmm?"

You nod slowly. Chan retreats from the room, returning a few minutes later with a white box. He opens it, inside awaiting what looked like a vibrator. Nope, scratch that, it was a vibrator.

You swallow, looking at it, and Chan grins at you. "The best form of torture is too much pleasure, don't you agree, sweetie?"

You swallow hard, finding yourself nodding nervously.

Chan moves back over to you, stepping gracefully, and smiles. "For the next three hours, this is going to be attached directly to your clit."

You only stare at him.

He begins by removing your panties, then your bra, leaving you completely bare for him, and for the tape recorder.

"Pretty pussy," he mumbles, as though to himself. He leans forward, using one finger to spread your lower lips and another to prod around your private area, poking gently into your hole, then around your clit. Finally, he stops, bringing up the vibrator and configuring it so that the head stayed directly on your clit. He gently turns it on, watching as you gasp a little.

"Three hours," he says, tapping his wrist, then turning the vibrator to the highest setting. "I'll see you, pretty girl."

The moment the door is closed, unable to bite back the noises produced from this torturous device.

Three hours later, you've passed out four times, came at least twenty, and are shaking, dripping sweat, and sobbing. Your clit burns with too many sensations, and your stomach convulses violently with every buzz being emitted into your core.

When Chan reenters the room, he carries with him a plate of food. He sets it down quickly upon seeing your ragged state, mouth open slightly as he watches you.

You hardly notice him enter, buzzing with too many sensations. You only snap back to reality when you hear a shutter flick in front of you, and you find that he's taken a Polaroid photo of you.

He stays silent, listening to you whimper as the film develops. When it's complete, he turns off the vibrator, and you slump in your shackles. You feel him unlock your ankles, then your wrists, and you drop to your knees on the floor, still shaking vigorously.

Chan kneels beside you, brushing your hair from your face and soothingly thumbing your cheek. "Tired?"

You nod.

"Too tired to eat?"

You nod again.

"No you're not." He stands, retrieving the plate of food he brought with him. On it is what looks like a rather appetizing piece of chicken, salad, and small bowl of pasta. "Eat."

"What if I don't want to?"

"I'll force feed it to you."

You can't tell if he's joking, so you shakily take a bite. You struggle as you pick up your fork, and Chan takes it from you exasperatedly. "Let me," he says. He gathers a bit of salad on the fork, taps your jaw for you to open your mouth, and puts it in. You close your mouth, letting the lettuce fall onto your tongue, eyes locked with his.

"I'm sorry," you find yourself saying.

"Why?"

"I'm shaking."

"That's not your fault, is it?"

You shake your head.

"Then why are you sorry? Hmm?"

You shrug as he puts another bite of salad in your mouth.

The two of you stay silent for the rest of the meal. That night, he doesn't reshackle you, but locks the door behind him. The next day, he returns. At least, you assume it's the next day. You're not sure how much time has passed since you've woken up in this dank room. He'll come for a few hours in the morning, then leave for a few hours, then return for a few more. Each time he returns, he asks about you. As if he truly wants to get to know you, instead of killing you. He continues torturous ministrations, destroying your body and your mind in one. And somehow, you hardly mind.

Finally, on the evening of what you can guess is the ninth day, he returns as usual, bringing with him a meal.

He watches you eat, tongue in his cheek. "I'd like to bring you upstairs today."

You pause to stare at him. "Up . . . upstairs?"

He nods. "You should shower, before you stink any more."

You look down. "It's not exactly that sanitary down here."

"I'm well aware. That's why I'm bringing you up. I quite like you, honestly. So I'd like to propose to you an offer."

"An offer?"

"An offer. An exchange, I suppose. Your freedom for your service."

"Go on."

"You will marry me. You will be presented as my wife, and you will act as such in the public eye. In private, you are mine. You're my slave - my belonging."

"I just have to stay with you?" You look up at him. You're smart enough to know that even seeing the sunshine for a day being married to a kidnapper would be better than rotting down here until he eventually decided he'd had enough and kill you. Your mind was made up, but you were curious.

"Yes, love. I'm fond of you, actually."

Fond of me. You ponder this. "Okay . . . I'll do it. First, though, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"How old are you?"

Chan looks down. "I'm thirty-seven."

"Oh."

He nods. "You?"

"Eighteen." You meet his eyes.

"So young and fragile." Chan traces his fingers over your cheek. "So much to corrupt, hmm?"

You nod.

"Come on, you need to shower."

You let him bring you upstairs. You leave the basement into a small house. The walls are pretty pastels, decorated with plants and paintings of all varieties. Chan brings you away from the main floor, up another flight of stairs to what you can guess is his bedroom. It's neat and tidy, and an open door off to your right is your best guess at a bathroom.

He brings you into the bathroom, letting you strip out of the clothes he gave you a few days before, after finally giving in to your begging for warmth. You jump a little as he starts to remove his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Stripping. I'm joining you."

"Um, why?"

"'Cause I'm not letting you off yourself with a razor in my shower."

"I wasn't gonna off myself with a razor in your shower."

"How do I know that?"

You watch him, deciding not to argue. The water is already on, steaming up the room, and his skin glistens with every movement. You avert your eyes from his dick, but you can see its general shape in your peripheral vision. Huge.

He pulls you into the shower by your waist, stepping in behind you. He'd seen you naked before, but something about this close proximity and steamy room felt so much more intimate than the hours of sextapes he had filmed of you.

Chan helps you wash your hair, then your body. His touch lingers over your curves, rubbing you in a way that you didn't know was possible. It's only moments after that you find yourself hoisted up, legs tucked around his waist, hands running through his hair, head tipped back as his lips attach to your neck.

"Do you promise to be mine?" he whispers into your jaw, teeth grazing your Adam's apple.

"I promise," you say desperately, watching him with hooded eyes.

He pushes inside you with no warning, already rock hard. You feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix, pressing in just the right ways against your walls. He kisses you hard, pushing you against the wall of the shower. Chan is thrusting inside you slowly, mouth struggling to stay attached to yours as the two of you are overwhelmed by emotions and sensations.

You cum at the same time as him, coaxing every last drop of cum from his cock.

You collapse into him, shaking as you come down from your high. He holds you gently, turning off the water and helping you out of the shower. He's wordless as he wraps a warm towel around you, kissing your forehead as he dries you, then himself, then helps you to his bed.

"Just sleep, love," he tells you softly. "I'll wake you up in the morning."

The next morning, Chan is beside you, sleeping soundly. For some reason, you're comforted by the sight. The man who kidnapped you nine days ago - who would have thought you'd be madly in love with him by the end of it all.

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[producedbyhanjisung]

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[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ N'OUBLE PAS DE VIVRE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : bang chan x female reader

TROPE. streetracer!au, fake dating au

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, streetracing, smut

PARTS. one, two, three

SYNOPSIS. y/n, new to seoul, south korea, has yet to find the crowd she wants to roll with. that is, until she hears one of her best friends babbling about the hottest topic of the city - the streetracers. specifically a group known as "stray kids". when y/n finds herself in the backseat of one of the racers' cars, she is thrown unexpectedly into a world much different from the one she was raised in - and perhaps has found the crowd she wants to roll with.

SMUT WARNINGS. kind of dirty talk not really, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving) (there will be more in the other parts)

n'ouble pas de vivre. ⎯ don't forget to live.

"What if I told you that I fucking hate you?" You glance over at your father, eyes lidded. You know you're high out of your mind, and you know that you don't really mean it - you haven't meant anything you've said in the past three hours.

"You don't hate me." Your father flips the page of his book absentmindedly, practically ignoring the fact that you're screaming in his face.

"I hate you!" You yell, and as if trying to make your point, you smudge the end of your cigarette on the wall. Part of you hopes that your father will stand up and reprimand you - the other part hopes you can continue getting away with your outrageous behavior.

"Why do you hate me, Y/N?" He finally looks up, locking eyes with you.

"You tore me away from my home," you say finally, sitting down against the wall. "I want to see my mom."

"You know damn well where your mother is." A flash of anger tears through your father's face, before quickly fading. He composes himself, straightening his suit. "Your mother is dead, honey."

You realize that you're crying now, but you couldn't give less of a fuck. Your father - this man who you've never met before in your life - has never chosen to care about you before the death of your mother. Why on Earth would he choose to care now? What was so important that you had to pack yourself up from New York and cross the fucking world to get to Seoul, South Korea?

"Fuck you!" You yell, standing quickly and moving through the hallway, up the stairs and to the bedroom that you've never slept in before. This is not your childhood bedroom, or the one that your mother always kept ready when you were away at college, or even the one at your ex-boyfriend's house - what on Earth were you going to do without Soobin here?

Some deep, hidden recess of you understands that this situation isn't your father's fault - in fact, you're sure he'd much rather be out partying and bringing home anyone he pleases than babysitting for an eighteen-year-old walking depressive episode. You know that he doesn't want you here, and you don't want to be here either.

So why won't he let you leave?

The thoughts make their way hurriedly through your mind, as though they're late to a business meeting in some other deep cavity of your skull. Soon, the rushing puts you to sleep, and you're left to dwell alone in your subconscious.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

When you awaken again, it's nearly six am. With class two hours later, you get up slowly and get ready for your day, brushing your teeth and donning your clothes that look much too American for your liking.

"Can we pick up Soyeon?" you ask as you exit your father's house, looking over at his private driver, who just bows and nods at you. You're at Soyeon's apartment fifteen minutes later, and the pretty blond grins as she jumps into the backseat of the sports car with you, clutching her bag.

In your entire two months living in Seoul already, you've made all but one friend - Jeon Soyeon. An aspiring underground rapper with a taste for expensive sunglasses. She splays out across the backseat, letting her legs drape over your lap as she hangs her head out the window. "How mad was your dad last night?" she asks, tilting her head at you as she swings her head back in to examine your face.

"Not mad," you say, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. You catch a glimpse of the driver wrinkling his nose, but you ignore it, taking a drag and blowing a puff of smoke at your friend's face. "He wasn't upset at all until I brought up my mom. I don't think he cares that I was smoking and stuff."

Soyeon pretends to pout. "You're lucky. My mom is such a cunt about all that stuff. 'That shit kills you, Soyeon.' Like I don't wanna die already!" she giggles, and you can tell that even now, at seven-thirty in the morning on a random Tuesday in March, Jeon Soyeon is high out of her mind.

"I'm so glad we ended up in the same psych class," she says, bloodshot eyes glancing up at you. "Life would be so boring. All those fucking do-gooders are fucked."

"You're fucked," you say, pushing her playfully.

"So are you, bitch!" she laughs.

Not long after, you've arrived at the university that the two of you take classes together at. You get out of the car, shouldering your bag and stepping out onto the green, Soyeon following behind you. Around you, students bustle around, lounging between classes, hand-in-hand with their lovers, trying to run from a one-night-stand without being seen. You smile as a girl runs from bush to bush, trying to fix her mousy hair and hide the fact that she's still wearing the dress you saw her in at the party last night. In fact, you remember taking off that dress. You wonder how she ended up at someone else's dorm.

Soyeon hardly notices anything, running a little ahead of you and jumping into a much-too energetic cartwheel.

"Who'd you end up going home with last night?" you ask her, jogging a little to catch up.

"Some guy. Chi . . . Ji-something? . . . no . . . Sung? . . . Jisung? I think that's what his name was."

You nod. "Was he nice?"

"He was cool," Soyeon says. "I've seen him and his friend a few times at the rap shows. Sometimes one of them gets up and does a little freestyle. He's pretty good. He's part of a street racing group though, did you know?"

"Street racing?"

"Come on, don't tell me they don't have street racing in America."

"No, they do, it's just like not something that happens a lot. And most American street racers don't go to prestigious universities, either."

"Haughty haughty." Soyeon wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging you gently. "Most stoners don't go to prestigious universities either. And here we are, strolling into a fucking psych lecture in a prestigious university."

You take your seats beside each other, waiting for the lecture to begin.

"You should come with me. Jisung asked if I wanted to come see a race tonight. He said I could get a backseat pass and everything." She winks at you, and you shake your head knowingly. "Seriously though. It could be fun! Maybe you'll find your new calling."

You roll your eyes. "I'd rather not," you say.

So, how exactly did you end up here, fourteen hours later, sitting in a crowded back-alley dotted with girls showing too much skin and guys showing off their fancy multi-colored cars.

"This doesn't seem like a street race," you tell Soyeon, fixing your dress. It's practically vanta black and too short, but Soyeon said it complimented your figure and you didn't want to fight with her.

"That's cause none of the big leagues have shown up yet. These are all just bozos who get off on girls in small tops."

"You do realize that you're a girl in a small top, right?" You glance over at Soyeon, who is dressed in a flattering bikini top and jean skirt, showing off her delicate body.

Soyeon turns around and wiggles her ass at you. "Damn right I am." She stands back up, ignoring the whistling and claps that erupt around us at her little display, and leads me over into a semi-vacant corner of the lot. "Look, they're starting to show up. I'll give you a rundown of the big groups, yeah?"

You nod, looking around.

"See them, over there? The four girls? That's Blackpink. Their racers are Lisa and Jisoo - some of the best girls in the league." She points off at a group of four girls, standing beside two cars - one black and one pink.

"Them? Ateez. Hongjoong is in charge of them, I think, but he doesn't race." She continues rattling off names that don't mean anything to you - Itzy, Seventeen, Le Sserafim, P1Harmony, and a few others. Finally, she pauses. "Look, there's Jisung. He's with Stray Kids."

"Stray Kids?"

"Mhm. They're at the top right now. Four racers, four mechanics, but they practically all do everything. Look, those four are the racers. They have names, I'm sure, but everyone calls them by their racer names. J.One - that's Jisung - and Spear.B and I.N. And that's CB97. Jisung, Changbin, Jeongin, and Chan."

"Chan is cute."

She looks over. "You think so?"

You nod, watching him. His hair was short-ish and hung in dark curls that framed his face nicely. He had a piercing on his nose, and wore a fitted black shirt and jeans that looked way too big for him. Even so, it was clear he was ripped, and held himself with confidence, even amongst the rest of his team.

"You and every other girl here," Soyeon says. "He graduated from the school we're going to last year."

You nod again, hardly able to form words as you watch his graceful movements. You barely pay attention as Soyeon spouts off the rest of the members, then drags you over to say hi to Jisung, who grins and kisses her on the cheek as the two of you come up to them.

"Who's this?" he asks, turning to you.

"Y/N," you say, bowing slightly.

He laughs. "None of that, let's be informal. No one here gives a fuck. Soyeon, can you come help me with something?"

Soyeon nods, giggling and blowing you a kiss as Jisung whisks her away.

"Great," you say quietly to yourself. "Alone."

"Not alone," says a deep voice behind you. You turn, finding yourself face to face with none other than CB97 - Chan.

"Oh, no?" you ask. "I look pretty alone to me."

He shakes his head, leaning against the car. "I'm here, aren't I?"

You nod, trying to hold back your urge to scream and kick your feet like a little kid. "I suppose so."

"American?"

You sigh. "Mhm."

"We can speak English then, love." You look up quickly as the boy switches from Korean to English, what sounds like an Australian accent layered thick over his pretty voice.

"Oh, okay."

"Ever been to one of these before? Races, I mean."

You shake your head. "First time. My, uh, my friend dragged me out here actually. She's with Jisung, I guess? They went to go work on something together."

Chan shakes his head. "Of course they are. Soyeon is your friend? She's trouble."

You nod. "Tell me about it."

"I'm Chan, by the way. Bang Chan. Everybody around here calls me CB97 though."

"Do you want me to call you that?" you ask, looking up at him.

"You can call me Chan, pretty girl. Now, do you have a name? Or should I just keep calling you pretty girl?"

"Pretty girl works for me." You smile. "My name's Y/N though."

"Y/N." He mutters the name over and over, as if turning it over like a coin in his mind. "Cute."

"Thanks."

"Chan!" You both look up at a redheaded boy who called his name, waving him over to a deep purple car.

"That's my queue." Chan winks at you. "Here, um, can I have your number?"

"I, yeah, do you have any paper or something to write it on?"

"CHAN."

"I'm fucking coming, Minho." Chan presses his hand to his temple, eyes closed. He turns back to you. "Let me grab my phone, it's just in my car-"

"Ten, nine, eight . . ."

"You know what? Fuck." Chan practically manhandles you over to his car, opening the backseat and basically tossing you in before getting in the driver's seat.

"What the fuck?" you snap, sitting up as the door is closed behind you.

"Hang on," Chan says softly, and you watch his eyes flit around the dash, searching for problems with his car. He drives slowly up to a white line in the road, lining up with three other cars. You don't recognize either of the drivers on the other sides of Chan. "Come up front," Chan says quickly, patting the passenger seat. "Quick."

You do as he says, climbing up to the passenger seat of the car and buckling your seatbelt quick.

"I hope you don't get motion sickness." He tries to joke, glancing over at you. You glare at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I really didn't want to lose you in the crowd or anything and I couldn't find my phone and I didn't have enough time, so I just- I don't know. I just brought you in here with me. I'm sorry."

You sigh. "I can't even pretend like I'm upset. You're really fucking hot. You know what they always say: n'ouble pas de vivre."

"What is that, French?"

"'Don't forget to live.' Yeah, it is."

"I've never heard that before."

"It's basically like saying 'fuck it' to the world."

"Maybe I like that saying. Look, if you wanna get out-"

You look over at him. "Hell no. I have too much social anxiety to walk off the track like that."

Chan cracks a smile. "Then buckle up, sweetheart."

"I'm buckled."

He reaches over, and you find your heart pounding in your chest as he tugs on your seatbelt, making sure it's tight. "I'm not stopping once we start," he says. "This race is important."

"I wouldn't expect you to." You flash him a smile. "Relax. It's cool."

"You say that now," he says, cracking his neck in a jerky movement.

You roll your eyes, slumping back in your chair. In front of you, a tanned woman wearing hardly a bikini steps out in front of the cars, holding a red flag in each hand. She raises the flags, and Chan tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

The woman raises both flags. You hardly see her drop them before Chan's foot is all the way down on the gas, propelling the car forward. You let out an involuntary yell, and you catch Chan grinning out of the corner of your eye.

The race is over as soon as it had begun. Chan won - not surprising, considering the reckless way he drove - and looked over to smile at you as you pulled back into the lot. "Enjoy it?"

"I'm never ever getting in a car with you again."

He snorts a laugh. "I liked the part when you were screaming."

"What, the entire time?"

"Something like that."

"Don't you have to go greet your adoring fans?" you ask, only half joking.

"I'd much rather sit in here and talk to you."

You pretend to run your fingers through your hair to hide the smile that flits across your face.

"Do you live anywhere around here?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Other side of the city."

Chan presses his lips together. "It's getting pretty late . . . my apartment is close by. If you wanted to, you could stay there for the night. I have a feeling your friend will end up there too."

"You share an apartment with Jisung?"

He nods. "Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Loud fucking group."

You smile. "That sounds nice. You're not gonna like, kidnap me and eat my kidneys are you?"

"If I wanted to kidnap you, I'd have already had plenty of opportunities for it. As for eating your kidneys, I can't promise anything." Chan looks over at you with an expression that sets your heart pounding in your chest.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that, you freak."

The name calling is playful, but Chan pretends to be offended, opening his mouth in feign shock. He moves to say something, but he's interrupted as a pretty boy with longer hair knocks hard on his window, making a disgruntled face and pointing for Chan to unlock the door.

"Hey, Jinnie. This is Y/N, have you met her yet?"

The man shakes his head, then bows a little at me. "I'm Hyunjin."

"Nice to meet you." You smile at Chan's roommate.

"She's coming back with us tonight," Chan tells Hyunjin. "Her apartment is across town, so I figured that would be fine."

"Sure, like Jisung and Soyeon won't be loud enough as it is."

"We're not going to fuck, asshat." Chan pulls Hyunjin's beanie off his head, getting out of the car to dance around him playfully. You get out too, laughing at their antics.

"You have any more races?" Hyunjin asks as he snatches his beanie back.

"Not tonight. Do the others?"

Hyunjin shakes his head. "I'm gonna head back now. Let the others know."

Chan nods. "We'll be there soon."

For the remainder of the evening, Chan's arm is locked around your waist, keeping you close to him, as though you getting in the car with him was some sort of unspoken oath that you would be by his side the rest of the night. He takes you around to meet the other members of his crew, then a few others. You recognize a few from Ateez, who Stray Kids seem to be particularly close with. Finally, Chan announces that the two of you are leaving. Minho and Felix are quick to catch up to Chan and you, asking if they could catch rides with Chan.

As you approach his car, you move to get in the backseat, expecting one of the other boys to take their position next to Chan. You jump a little as Chan grabs your wrist, opening the passenger door for you.

"Well I'll be damned," Felix says, grinning at the display, "Channie's whipped for you, Y/N, you should be proud."

Minho grunts in agreement from the other side of the car. Chan rolls his eyes at both of them, helping you in the car then going over to his side and getting in.

The ride back to their apartment is talkative, with Minho and Felix telling you embarrassing stories about Chan and cracking jokes from the backseat, with Chan occasionally chiming in to make fun of them too. He keeps looking over at you, like he's checking if you're safe, even though you're no longer doing eighty on a city road.

You finally pull up to a nice-looking apartment building, and everyone gets out. You follow the three boys to the seventeenth floor, to apartments 17A and 17E, which are each across the hall from each other. Chan bids goodnight to Minho and Felix, who enter 17E, and unlocks the door to 17A, smiling at you. "Tired?"

"Not particularly, why?"

"'Cause I can smell the weed that Hyunjin got out."

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with smoking and weird pastries that Changbin practically pulled out of his ass and really good music that, apparently, Chan likes to make.

The next morning, you wake up in Chan's bed with a raging headache and only half dressed. Chan is sitting on the floor, reading a book. You mumble something inaudible, and he turns to look up at you.

"Morning," he says, smiling as he shuts the book and moves to sit next to you on the bed. "How do you feel?"

You groan, mashing your head into the pillow.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Here, take some Tylenol." You don't even look at the pill and cup of water Chan hands you as you down it.

He runs a hand through your hair, looking down at you. "Take your time, pretty girl. I'm in no rush, and I have a feeling you aren't either."

"Thank you," you say, reaching up to gently trace patterns on his wrist.

"You know, it's funny."

"What is?"

"We met each other last night."

You open your eyes. "What?"

"It seems like we've known each other forever, don't you think?"

You blink, sitting up a little. "Yeah, it does, honestly."

He smiles. "I guess that's good, right?"

You nod, looking around. "Is this your room?" There's posters of bands and cars on the wall, a collection of CDs and vinyls littering his half-open closet, and a rack of clothes waiting to be folded.

He nods. "Sorry, it's kind of messy."

You shake your head. "It's homey. I love it."

"You do?"

"Mhm."

"You could come over a lot more, you know. I like having you here. It was nice sleeping next to someone for a change."

You look up at him, eyes widening.

"What, you didn't expect me to sleep on the floor, did you? Not even for you, pretty girl."

"Stop calling me that, it doesn't apply in this situation."

"Yes it does." Chan rolls his eyes, touching your face tentatively. "You're absolutely gorgeous. Even with your makeup everywhere." He laughs softly, running a thumb under your eye to collect the bits of mascara that came off while you were sleeping.

"Thanks," you mumble.

"Come on, I'll help you up. Hyunjin made waffles for everyone."

You let Chan lead you into the main section of the apartment, where Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Soyeon are all sitting around a table, looking out the window over Seoul.

"Morning," Chan says, making his way to the kitchen part of the room.

A round of "morning"s chorus from the other side of the room.

"I'll get you some, go sit," Chan tells you as you join him in the kitchen. You do as he says, moving over to the couch to sit next to Soyeon, who's wearing a sweatshirt you've never seen before.

"Where's that from?" you ask. "It's cute."

"It's mine," Jisung says, smiling. "I'm glad you like it."

Soyeon nods. "How was it with Chan last night?"

"I have no idea," you tell her. "I have no memory of last night past taking the blunt from you."

She grins. "He was pretty adamant about you guys not having sex."

"I don't think we did, actually. I was fully clothed when I woke up."

"That's a good sign," she says, nodding solemnly. "I wasn't, so . . ."

You push her playfully, laughing.

Chan finally joins you all on the couch, grinning as he hands you a plate of waffles. As you move to take a bite, you're surprised by the sound of the doorbell. Hyunjin jumps up to get it.

"Chan!" he calls from the front of the apartment. He darts back into the living room. "It's your mom!"

Chan blinked once, then twice. "My mom?"

"Dude, she's right outside!"

"Fuck!" Chan says. "Y/N, I'm about to ask you something that you might not want to do, and you totally don't have to. My mom texted me last night to ask where I was and I told her I was out with my girlfriend. Is there any way you could, maybe, like, pretend to be dating me?"

You stare at him. Is this not something out of those romance books you read when you were younger? And Chan, the super mega hot street racer wanted this?

"Yeah, of course," you say.

"Okay." Chan breaks into a smile, and you hear Hyunjin let his mom in.

Everyone stands up, moving towards the door as a short, pretty woman enters. Chan steps forward, pulling her into a tight hug. "Mom! Why'd you come up, I thought you were gone visiting Hannah?"

"His sister," Changbin mouths to you, and you nod.

"I thought I'd take a layover in Seoul on my way to LA," the woman says, smiling.

"How long are you here for?"

"Two days. Now! Enough about me! Where's that pretty girlfriend you were telling me about?"

Chan laughs, nodding. He turns and takes your hand, pulling you forward next to him. He wraps his arm around your waist, kissing your forehead. "This is Y/N, Mom."

Chan's mom takes your hands in hers and smiles at you. "You're gorgeous, darling, I can see what Chan has been saying about you."

You look over at him for a split-second, then back at his mother. "Thank you so much." You smile.

She pats your face, then looks up at Chan. "And you dilly-dallied with that Libby for so long. I can't believe this beautiful woman wants to be with you."

"Mommmm," Chan says, groaning.

"Alright, alright. I just wanted to drop by. Would you all like to come out with me for dinner tonight?" his mom asks. "You can ask the other boys too, I know you eight don't like to go places without each other. And Y/N, you're welcome to come as well. And um, you dear." She smiled and bowed a little at Soyeon, who blushed and bowed back.

"We'd love to, Mrs. Bahng," Jisung says.

Everyone shares a few more goodbyes before Mrs. Bahng exits, leaving the six of you.

Chan turns to you immediately. "You're my literal savior, thank you so much. I mean, seriously."

"You should give her some better thanks than that," Jisung says. "Y/N just saved your ass."

Chan looks down at you. "I'm sure we'll work something out."

You can't help but feel an explosion of butterflies in your abdomen. Chan's gaze is fairly seductive as he watches you, eyelashes fluttering. You look back up at him, lips curling into a smile.

Barely an hour later, Chan and you are sitting on the porch of the apartment together, smoking a blunt that Jisung pulled out of his sock drawer.

"You know," Chan says. "I could give you a better thanks." He looks over at you.

You're not sure if it's the marijuana filtering through your body, or if he actually is, but you swear you've never seen a hotter man in your life.

"Oh yeah?" you ask. "What did you have in mind?"

He looks over at you pointedly, as if letting you know with his eyes.

"What?" you ask.

"I could eat you out," he tells you.

You cough, a puff of smoke leaving your lips. "You could what?"

"That's what Jisung told me to do. I'm just following what he said. But I like you. You're pretty. Actually, you're super gorgeous. You might actually be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I definitely wouldn't mind eating you out. Or just kissing you. Or just touching your lips wouldn't be that bad either . . ."

You tilt your head, smiling as he rambles on.

Finally he pauses. "You're really pretty."

"You're pretty fucking hot yourself," you tell him, passing the blunt.

"You think so?"

"Have you seen yourself?"

He laughs. "I'm glad you think so, Y/N. You don't have to make up your mind about it anytime soon, just, like, let me know, you know? It's the least I can do."

"Actually, I have an idea," you say.

Chan looks up. "Yeah?"

"I've never had sex," you say bluntly. Then you pause. "With a guy, at least. And I'm not good at kissing anyways. Here's my proposal. I'll keep pretending to be your girlfriend for as long as it takes, but you have to teach me all this stuff. How to like, give blowjobs and such."

"You've never given a blowie before?" He looks up in surprise. "With your pretty lips?"

If this were any other man, you would've found that comment horrendous. But this was Christopher Bahng, so you were perfectly okay with it.

"Sure," he says at last. "That sounds like a fair deal. N'ouble pas de vivre. When should we begin?"

You shrug. "Whenever, I guess."

"Well, it's only fair you get something today, cause you directly helped me today," Chan says.

You giggle, starting to stand. "You want me to suck you off, Channie?"

He shakes his head, standing from his chair and pushing you back into yours. One hand presses your lower abdomen, pinning you in place while the other pushes your legs apart, spreading them as he gets on his knees in front of you. "I don't want that to be how we start. I wanna taste your pretty pussy."

You blush, not used to the foul language he's speaking, but writhe anyways as he rakes one hand up your thigh, gently tugging on the hem of your shorts. "Hips up."

You do as he says, lifting your hips for him to let him slide both your panties and shorts off. "The others-" you start to say, but Chan stops you.

"I've caught them in much more compromising positions," he says. "This is nothing, babygirl."

Babygirl. You're once again reminded of your new life motto: if this was anyone other than this man saying these things, you would absolutely die. But, because it's Christopher Bahng, you'll let it slide.

"It's not?"

He shakes his head. "Just relax, okay? Let me do it all, yeah?"

You nod slowly, letting him push your legs apart, leaving you bare to him - and anyone unfortunate enough to be on the roof of the building over. You hardly cared, however, because he looked up at you with a smug grin on his face, face slowly moving toward your cunt.

"Chan," you say softly. You're not sure what you're trying to say to him by saying his name, but he just shakes his head and delves between your legs.

You moan softly as his tongue flicks against your clit, and you feel one of his fingers running up your thigh, all the way to tease your clenching hole.

You moan a little louder as he kisses your pussy, running his tongue between your folds and all around, slowly letting a finger slip inside you. Before you know it, there are two inside you, gently massaging your g-spot, which he seemed to have no trouble finding.

There's a new sort of tension in your stomach, building up as he continues his ministrations. You feel his nose brush against your clit, pressing harder against it as he licks around your hole, working around his fingers. Without warning, you're cumming hard, shaking and moving to close your legs around his head. "Oh, baby," you hear him say, his voice teasing. "That felt good?"

Chan pries your thighs back open, fingering you through your orgasm as he watches your face in awe.

You slump in your chair as you come down from your high, and Chan smiles, standing. He helps you back into your panties and shorts, then sits you back down, smiling. "You look beautiful when you cum. I mean you look beautiful always, but like, particularly when you cum."

You blush, not expecting such a blunt compliment.

He continues on, much to your dismay. "You just looked so . . . fucked out, I guess. Like you were fucking ascending or something. You looked gorgeous."

"I'm glad you think so," you giggle a little. "Um, thank you for that."

"Anytime." Chan grins. "Literally, anytime."

You smile. "I'll let you know next time."

Chan nods. "So, um, I have a race tonight. Do you wanna come with me? I think the boys might stay back, and it's nice when someone rides shotgun."

"Sure," you say. "It was fun last time."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

That night, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror in Chan's room, with Soyeon sitting on the bed behind you. Chan is in the shower, playing some odd assortment of music, and you're trying to figure out what to wear to his race.

"When it comes to these things," Soyeon is explaining to you, "the sluttier, the better."

"Do I really wanna dress like a slut though?"

"Yes. Always."

You turn and look at what she's holding out to you. You unfold the first item - a low-rise jean skirt. "My whole ass is gonna be hanging out, Soyeon."

She shrugs. "I like your ass. Chan obviously likes your ass. You have a great ass. Let it free, mama."

"For the top?" you ask, rolling your eyes.

Soyeon chucks something at you.

"This is barely a top."

"Let your titties free!" Soyeon crows.

You giggle. "How much have you smoked so far tonight?"

She shrugs. "I lost count at six hits. Wanna make out?"

Chan walks out of the bathroom just as she says this. He pauses, looking at you, then at Soyeon. "Don't let me stop you, ladies." You hardly pay attention to what he says though, because Chan is shirtless. He has a towel draped around his waist, his dark hair is wet and curly and shaggy on his head, and his torso, good god. His torso is muscular and defined, with a full six pack, monstrous pecs, and muscular arms.

Soyeon stands, holding out the skirt and top to Chan. "Don't you think Y/N should wear something like this tonight?"

Chan tongues his cheek, examining the clothes. "I think Y/N should wear whatever she wants to wear. But, I think you'd look fucking hot in these."

"Seeeeeee, sweetie? I've got your back. Go put these on."

When you emerge from the bathroom after your changing, you feel like a different woman. Soyeon was definitely right about her outfit choice for you. A nice pair of heels, a low-rise jean skirt, a black halter top that hardly covers your tits. She ended up throwing a thong into the bathroom too at some point, which you now have pulled up past your skirt, hooking over your hips to show it off a little.

"You look hot," Soyeon says, a puff of smoke curling from her mouth as she speaks. Chan is waiting at the mirror, staring at you.

"You look pretty." He clears his throat. "Not pretty. Like, drop dead mega hot."

"Slutty, cunty, I love it!" Soyeon squeals and jumps up, grabbing your hands and pulling you in a circle.

"It's okay?" you ask.

They both nod aggressively.

"Come on, let's go ask the other boys how they like it."

You're surprised at how comfortable you are already in the apartment with the boys. Jisung and Hyunjin are watching TV on the couch, and you gladly give them a little spin to show off your outfit. Changbin is in his room, lifting weights, and he whistles at you, telling you how much cunt you're serving.

As you and Soyeon exit Changbin's room, Chan catches you in the hallway, arm looping around your bare waist. "I have something for you, if you want it."

You tilt your head, looking up at him as Soyeon continues back into the living room, leaving the two of you alone in the darkened hallway. "Oh?"

He presents a long golden chain from his pocket. "It's a belly chain. I thought it might suit the outfit tonight. And also, Soyeon told me you wouldn't wear it unless I gave it to you. So . . ."

You roll your eyes. "I would have worn it. It's pretty though. How . . . how do you put it on?"

"Turn around," he says. You do as he says, and you feel him loop the chain around your waist, clasping it at the back. "I like it," he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You really didn't have to dress up or whatever for tonight, but you look beautiful."

"Thank you," you say. "I figured Soyeon was right. I should try and fit in with the crowd there."

"Are you ready to go?"

You nod. "Ready when you are, racer boy."

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

this might end up becoming a series so lmk how you guys like it!!

[producedbyhanjisung]

Ill read anything thats bang chan :) 🙈

i have one in the works right now (it'll be posted asap) 🙈

[producedbyhanjisung]

All mine is amazing! Do you play on do a part 2? Or maybe another alien chan fanfic?

Thank you so much! Honestly, I haven't even thought out working on a part 2 or another alien chan fanfic, but I would be totally up for it!! I'll post a poll or something at some point to gage reactions lol. Currently, I'm just returning from a break of writing, and am now working on three fics (hint: one is an age gap au, one is a street racing au, and one is a ninth member au). let me know what everyone wants to see though! thank you!

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ BOXER. lee minho

🎧 : lee minho x female reader

TROPE. organized crime au, stray kids mafia au, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, minors do not interact !

WORD COUNT. 5.2k

WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities

SYNOPSIS. y/n is a mercenary-for-hire - and one of the best in the league. the only problem is, she's constantly fighting over who's best with none other than her arch enemy, the very man who keeps beating her in every game they play: lee minho. the boxer. however, when she, minho, and the rest of a group that comes together to become known as the "stray kids" band together, they have to find a way to get along with each other, which may be easier than they originally had assumed.

SMUT WARNINGS. oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sort of voyeurism? , biting, pussy smacking yay, neck kisses, nipple play, slight degrading, mentions of reader x hyunjin but nothing happens, big dick minho, corruption kink, dumbification kink

"Why do you always have to be in the fucking way?"

You look up, startled by the voice that's disturbed your peaceful slumber. Of course. Lee Minho.

He's glaring at you - or more specifically, your leg which he's just stumbled over.

"Just watch where you're going," you snap back, irritated. "I'm trying to eat my pasta in peace." You motion at your bowl of ravioli.

Minho groans, moving to sit down across the blue-painted hall from you.

You wrinkle your nose, watching him. "Is there more?"

"JYP wants us to work together on my next assignment."

You frown at him. "JYP is a fucking idiot."

"JYP is in charge of our whole operation." Minho glares at you. "He told us we need to work together. So that's what we're gonna do. Briefing is in twenty."

"Briefing?"

"We're bringing a couple more people on our little mission."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

Turns out, a couple more wasn't actually a couple. It was seven.

You, Minho, and seven other boys were going on this mission together. Which also happened to be not just any mission.

Park Jin Young, the leader of the organization you and Minho work for, sits at the head of the table, arms crossed.

"The two of you may be wondering why I brought you here today," he begins, taking a deep breath as you and Minho step through the door.

You look back at Minho, who grabs your waist lightly to push you aside as he steps in the small conference room behind you. Gathered at the table JYP is seated at are the seven other boys. The seats just to the left and right of JYP are empty, and you and Minho take your places in them.

"As you all know, I run an organization that trains criminals. Not just any criminals, but the best of the best criminals."

You roll your eyes. You've heard this speech hundreds of times - this is how your boss starts off every meeting.

"Y/N, Minho, I would like you to meet Bang Chan, otherwise known as CB97."

You tear your eyes away from the ceiling and look over at who JYP is nodding his head at. The man at the opposite end of the table leans his head back, surveying Minho and I.

"Chan is the best thief in the world," JYP continues on. "He's pulled of numerous heists that I'm sure you've heard of."

"The Seoul Treasury," you say. Chan nods, making eye contact with you.

"He's also putting together a group. These seven men you see at the table in front of you are the members he's already compiled. Chan came to me for the last two who are needed."

"And those are?"

It's Chan who speaks up this time. His voice is deep, accent Australian sounding. "Boxers."

You turn to look at him. You and Minho had both trained in boxing when you first joined JYP's organization, although you both had backgrounds in dance beforehand. "Boxers? What for?"

"I can't reveal anything else until you two either decline or accept my offer as becoming members of our team."

You note how he didn't say his team, like JYP usually did. He said our team.

"I'm in," your response is almost immediate.

You see Minho looking at you out of the corner of your eye, searching for the angle you had found. "Me too," he says.

Chan claps his hand together. "Great. Felix will stay and bring you guys to our base of operations. Welcome to Stray Kids."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

Felix is absolutely, positively one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in your entire life. He's a little taller than you, but not by much. He had muscular arms, a slimly built body, and wore a simple sweater and pair of jeans. He looked nothing like Chan, his face still soft and adolescent-like, unlike the leaders' more hardened, mature face. You can tell Felix is newer to the crime scene.

He has a fairy-like facial structure, and his dark hair is tied up in a half ponytail. Freckles splatter his tanned cheeks, and his voice is deep - even deeper than Chan's, and thickly Australian.

"Are you all Australian?" you ask as you, Felix, and Minho walk to the rooms you stay in.

Felix shakes his head. "Only Chan and I. All the others are Korean. Although Han sounds a little British, 'cause he went to school in Malaysia."

"Han?"

"Sorry, Jisung. You might know him as J.One."

You pause. "J.One . . . the hacker?"

Felix nods.

"What are we gonna be doing there anyway?"

Felix shrugs. "Chan will explain it all to you guys but if you want a little preview, I guess I can tell you." You arrive at your room as he's talking, and you motion for them to follow you inside so you can pack quickly. You're used to living sparsely and traveling light, so it's not a difficult feat. As you run around your room throwing piles into a bag, Felix keeps talking. "In six months, there will be a boxing competition held in the center of Seoul city. The grand prize is five-point-six billion won. That's a little over four million American dollars."

"Four million bucks isn't bad," Minho mumbles.

"At the same time as the final match on the last day of the tournament, the Seoul mint is going to move five trillion won - a little less than four billion American dollars - to a new secure location in the mountains. Once it leaves Seoul, we'll never see it again. You two are going to cause trouble at the tournament, so that everyone who's not watching the money will be watching the tournament. Chan will get into the details, but it's gonna be good."

You're staring at Felix. Minho is too. "Five trillion won? Do they even make that much money?" Minho asks. "That's-that's-"

"Five trillion won divided by nine members of the group is around five billion won each," you cut Minho off. "Felix, that's gonna be next to impossible."

"Which is why we have the best of the best with us." Felix grins, warmth radiating from his sunny smile. "Don't worry."

It doesn't take long to gather Minho's stuff, and the two of you climb in the car with Felix. It's a sleek black sports car, with a cute little toy chicken hanging from his rearview mirror.

You sit in the front with the brunette Australian, while Minho lounges across the back. Felix plays music on the drive, old k-pop that your mom played you when you were a kid - Mirotic by TVXQ! for one. The drive is maybe an hour and a half, to a pretty house in the countryside.

"Chan's lived here for almost five years," Felix says. "They've never caught him."

"Aren't you worried about telling us all this stuff?" Minho asks from the back, eyes glued to the looming structure.

Felix shakes his head. "With what Chan's already found out about you guys, telling the police where this place is would be nothing."

You exchange a look with Minho, and the two of you follow Felix towards the building. The garage door is open, and you can see three members crowded around a computer, arguing loudly. Two more are playing ping pong in the side yard, and Chan is sitting on the porch attached to the house, watching the other members with a book open on his lap.

"Welcome to Miroh."

"Miroh?" you ask, looking around.

Felix shrugs. "It's what Chan's been calling it. We don't know what it means."

Chan stands up from his seat as he sees the three of you. He looks much less formal in the daylight, wearing a white fitted shirt and black sweatpants. He has chains dangling around his neck, and rings on his fingers. He's fucking hot.

"Hey, guys!" Chan yells, motioning for the rest of the members to come over.

As they come over, he starts rattling off names and positions, like he's known these guys all his life.

"That's Han Jisung, he's our hacker. Kim Seungmin, the spy. Seo Changbin, my right hand man. Yang Jeongin, our medic. Hwang Hyunjin, our weapons expert and sniper. You met Lee Felix, our driver. Obviously, I'm Bang Chan. I'm the team leader." Chan jerks his head at each of the boys in turn, then whirls around to face Minho and I. "Our newest additions. Lee Minho and Y/L/N Y/N. Our fighters."

"Almost like we have the perfect team," Jeongin says.

"Almost." You look over at Minho, who spoke, and roll your eyes as the two of you make eye contact.

Chan folds his arms across his chest. "Jeongin, can you show them to their rooms?"

Jeongin nods. "I'll give them a tour."

Jeongin shows us around the massive property for a while, pointing out the gazebo near the lake, the huge windows in the kitchen, and finally-

"Your room." He stops us in the middle of the hallway on the second floor, smiling.

"Room?" Minho asks. "Singular?"

Jeongin nods. "The rest of us are doubled up too. Except Chan. I'm with Seungmin."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for Minho and Chan to room together?" you ask. "Since they're both, y'know, dudes."

Jeongin scoffs. "Ask him yourself. But for now, this is your room."

"Where even is the room?" Minho asks.

Jeongin presses a section of the wall, and a staircase emerges. The ceiling opens up, revealing an attic-like space for Minho and I to stay. The beds are each on one side of the small space, although both look like double beds. Each is equipped with a shelving unit next to it, for the belongings you brought with you, you can assume.

"Dinner's in an hour," Jeongin says. "And Felix made brownies for dessert. Get settled and then come down."

Then, he leaves the two of you alone to your antics.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Minho chucks his bag onto one of the beds - now claimed as his - and groans, head leaning back. "I'm sleeping in a fucking attic, and with you."

"You know, I'm actually not all that bad," you say, opening your bag to start putting your belongings away on the shelf.

Minho rolls his eyes. “You’re pretty fucking shitty.”

“What could I possibly have done to you?” you snap, not turning around.

“You don’t remember?”

“Evidently not.” You hear Minho scoff, and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. “Enlighten me.”

“We competed for that spot. JYP’s personal guard. We both made it to the second to last round - the boxing - and you knocked me out. You ruined every chance I had at becoming the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be.” Minho glares at you.

You stare at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? Neither of us even made it. Jihyo won anyways. That’s why you hate me so much?”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. My family . . . JYP is everything to them. They watched us in the ring together, and they told me they wanted to disown me then and there. They told me to pack my bags and move into the dorms. I lost my family, my friends, and my entire career because of you.”

“Minho, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it cost you so much. But we were competing - it wasn’t a pity fight. I wouldn’t have let you won anyways. Even if I had, Soobin would have thrown you out the fucking window in the last round anyways. Nothing either of us did was wrong.” You cross your arms. You really did feel sorry - you just didn’t know how you could help it now.

“Just forget it, yeah? It’s stupid.”

You stop him by the stairs, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to keep him from skirting past you. “It’s not stupid. It’s your life, and I fucked it up. What do you want from me? ‘Cause we clearly can’t continue on like this.”

Minho pauses and looks down at you, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want you to owe me.”

“Done.”

“Anything I want.”

“Okay.”

“No exceptions.”

“Minho. I’ll do it.”

Minho licks his lips. “Then I guess I can tolerate you for the time being.”

You roll your eyes. “You guess?”

“I’ll accept the situation we’re in and I won’t smother you in your sleep.” He pushes past you, starting down the stairs.

“Hang on-” you say, following after him. “Was that actually your plan?”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

Dinner is uneventful, but the food is good and Minho isn’t sending you death threats with his eyes across the table - always a reassuring sign when you have to share a room with said death threats.

After dinner, everyone moves to the library. It’s dark by now, the fireplace alit and all the group members lounging across any form of furniture they could find. You’ve all had a little much to drink apart from Chan, and you find yourself with your head on Hyunjin’s lap, humming as he runs his hands through your hair.

“How did you guys end up in this industry anyways?” Minho asks the quiet room, his voice breaking the dull crackle of the fire.

Chan shrugs. “Needed money. Starting running drugs when I was thirteen for this gang in Daegu. Joined the gang, left the gang, now I’m here. Lix?”

Felix groans, slouching further back into his chair, which Jisung is perched calmly on the arm of. “Street racing. Channie thought I was good and asked me to join.”

“You’re a street racer?” Minho asks.

Felix nods. “Been at it since I was fifteen. Beat Jeon Jungkook once.”

“Shit,” you say, recognizing the name of Jungkook - a notorious racer that works under BigHit, one of the smaller crime organizations. “What about you, Hyunjin?” You look up at his pretty face, eyes clouded by the three beers you’ve had.

“Dad ran a guns and ammo store. I helped test everything. Got robbed one day and they killed my dad with his own gun. I went to the roof and tried to shoot the guy while he was leaving, and I missed. Figured it couldn’t hurt to hone my skills in a little.”

You give him a little smile, nodding.

“How about you, Sungie?” Felix asks, patting Jisung’s thigh next to him.

“Shit, I’ve been with Chan for what, three years now?” He groans. “What a piece of shit.” He narrowly ducks the pretzel Chan throws at him. “Ever since Channie boy needed my poor little technological soul’s help I’ve been with him. I was just a dumb kid who wanted an exciting life.”

Changbin scoffs. "Please, Sungie. Don't lie."

"He kidnapped me and I started working for him," Jisung says, eyes on the ground.

"Han Jisung, you climbed in the back of my car thinking it was your mom's. I did not kidnap you." Chan crosses his arms. "I told you you could go."

"Whatever," Jisung says, laughing and rolling his eyes.

"What about you, Y/N?" Minho asks casually, but you look across the room at him. He's never asked you anything about yourself - he's actually making an effort to not be a dick.

"JYP made me," you say with a shrug, grinning. "Same as you."

He shakes his head. "How did you join JYP I mean? Why?"

"Oh. I'd rather not say, if that's okay. Maybe some other time."

You're surprised at how quickly these boys respect your wishes. None of them argue or whine, they just nod and move on. They recognize that your past is one you've had trauma from, and that you don't want to bring it up. You're reminded of what's deemed a normal familial environment - one where there's no judgement or stress, or violence or hurt.

You zone back into the conversation as Jeongin is talking about his past as a med student. Minho is watching you from next to Seungmin, leaned back onto the couch, brows furrowed. He's never known much about you, but he figured you were just some rich kid who wanted a thrill for a change. Sure, he knew about your background as a ballerina, and how you were one of - if not, the - best boxer under JYP. But he didn't know why you stopped dancing, or how you ended up at the top of a crime organization.

The conversation ends after everyone has talked at least a little about their pasts, and it's at around eleven that Chan announces he's going to bed, the other members trickling off shortly after. You decide to head up shortly after Felix takes his leave, and Minho comes up to your shared room maybe ten minutes later. You're already in bed, a book settled on your pillow as you lie on your stomach. A pen spins in your hand, waiting for you to annotate the book in pretty violet ink.

"Reading?" Minho asks.

You nod. He crosses to your half of the room, peeking over your shoulder at the book. He furrows his eyebrows, staring at the page. "Smut?"

You slam the book shut and turn to face him. "Stop reading it!"

He holds his hands up, as if surrendering, and retreats back to his side of the room again.

It's not until later that night, when you're both lying in the darkness, that he brings it up again. The moonlight comes slivered through the window between your beds, crossing his face and illuminating his half grin. "Are you into that stuff?"

"What stuff?" you ask after a moment. You know what he's talking about, you just want to hear him say it.

"The stuff you were reading about. Getting head and whatnot."

"Gross, Minho."

"Are you?"

You close your eyes, sighing. "I'm not gonna lie, I've never been given head. I've only ever sucked off guys."

You hear Minho sit up on his side to face you. "You mean you blow guys, and they've never returned the favor?"

You shrug. "I guess."

"That's fucking shitty."

"I'm pretty used to it," you say, turning to face him too. The light is twisted on his face, showing only his left eye and the corner of his lips now.

"You should have someone return the favor," he says quietly.

"Like who? It's not like I have many options around here."

He's quiet for a moment. Then, "I could."

You freeze. Three hours ago, you and Minho wanted to throw each other out the window. Now, sleeping mere feet away from each other in a dark, cozy attic in the home of one of Korea's most wanted criminals, he was asking if you wanted him to eat you out.

You want to laugh, but you don't. You know he wouldn't have offered if he wasn't serious.

"You don't have to suck me off, obviously," Minho said. "Or do it at all. I don't have to do anything. I just thought I would throw it out there, since I've done it before and stuff. And, I dunno, it could help us resolve some tension or something."

"Resolve tension?" you ask skeptically.

He shrugs. "Can't hurt."

You watch him, swallowing thickly. You've never died that he's an attractive guy, but you've definitely never imagined his head buried between your thighs.

You press your tongue into the side of your cheek, debating.

"Don't feel pressured," Minho says quickly. "I wanna make sure you're comfortable. Especially if we're rooming together."

"Maybe it could help us resolve some tension," you say softly.

You see a half-smirk bloom on Minho's face. "You think so?"

You nod. "I don't even know what to do, though, Minho. I don't-"

He's next to you now, standing shirtless - since when did he not have a shirt on? - and cocky. "I'll take the lead. Do you trust me, though?"

You look up at him. Once again you're reminded of your past feud, but it seems far in your history now, especially with him kneeling between your legs, fingers walking up and down your thighs.

You're nervous, scared he won't like what he sees or tastes, but he puts your worries to rest when he says, "I can guarantee that whatever it's like, I've had worse."

"Why do you think that?"

"You know JYP's daughter?"

You sit up suddenly. "That was you? You fucking man whore!"

Minho laughs. "Yeah, that was me. See what I mean, though? Plus, you're much prettier than she was."

You try not to blush at the comment.

"Do you trust me, Y/N?" he asks quietly.

You nod.

Minho shakes his head, tutting. "I wanna hear you say it."

"I trust you," you say shakily, watching him.

He smiles. "Okay. I'll take the lead. If you want me to stop, say stop, yeah?"

"Yeah," you breathe out.

Minho gently pulls off your pajama shorts, tossing them off the bed somewhere on the floor. "Okay so far?" he asks.

You nod. "You don't need to keep asking. I'll tell you if I want you to stop."

You feel him pause, watching you. "Okay." As he speaks, you feel his fingers slide against your pelvic bones, pulling down your panties. You gasp as you're left bare to him, embarrassed.

Minho, on the other hand, is doing nothing to help, staring with his lips parted at your center. "You look like you taste fucking divine," he says, eyes dark.

You cover your face, and he moves your hands absentmindedly, eyes still glued to your cunt.

"Jesus, Minho, can you not stare it down?" you say, moving to close your legs, but his hands land firm on your thighs, holding them open. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and you silently plead with him, embarrassed.

He gives you a half grin, moving down so that he's eye level with your core. He looks at it for a few more moments, then suddenly moves forward, pressing a kiss against your clit. Your hips jerk up at the sudden contact, and he presses down on your pelvic bone, keeping you flat.

“Stay still, baby.”

You shiver at the pet name, one hand threading through his hair and the other holding onto the headboard, as though if you let go, you might actually fall into Minho’s charms.

You moan as you feel his nose nuzzling your clit, his tongue gently licking inside of you. Minho hushes you softly, the sound reverberating inside you, and you feel one of his hands at your mouth, tugging your lip. You open your mouth, and he slips in two fingers in an effort to keep you quiet.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, pausing to look up at you, your arousal covering the lower half of his face.

“Fuck Minho.” You’re writhing under him, trying to contain your noise.

Minho tilts his head at you. “Feel good?”

You nod, looking down at him. “Feels really good.” Your head falls back against the pillow as he resumes, one of his fingers slipping into you along with his tongue. You arch up to meet him, fists clenched.

“No, no,” Minho tuts. “Stay still.”

You groan, but he shakes his head, moving back down to lick a stripe along your slit. Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. "Minho . . ."

He glances up at you. "Hmm?"

You mumble something incomprehensible.

Minho delves back into your folds, but pauses a moment later.

"What?" you mumble as he looks up.

You gasp as you hear a knock on the trap door leading up into your small shared space. "One second!" you yell, hurriedly pulling your panties up and pushing Minho off your bed. You scramble around to find your pajama shorts quickly, calling "You can come in!" Minho waits on the floor, looking like a grumpy little kid.

"Hey, guys-oh. You okay, pal?"

Minho grumbles something to himself and stalks over to his half of the room, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve.

"Is it a bad time, or . . . ?"

"Right now is fine," you say quickly, trying to steady your breathing.

"Minho, come sit."

Minho folds his arms and crosses the room, sitting down next to you on your bed. You barely register as the hand closest to you slips under your blanket, tracing patterns over your bare thigh.

"Look, guys, I know you don't like each other much," Chan says, sitting at the edge of the bed like your dad did when you were a kid. "But I really need you guys to get along. JYP said I could rely on you guys. And I really hope that's true. 'Cause no fucking way am I getting my ass shot up while you guys are having some lovers quarrel."

"FUCK IT OUT!" you hear from downstairs, as Changbin's head pokes through the trap door.

"If Hyunjin has one more of Felix's brownies he'll be high for the rest of the century." Chan face palms, sighing.

You grimace as the rest of the boys slowly make their way up through the trap door - Hyunjin wobbles up as Seungmin steadies him from behind.

"Honestly, the nine of us are gonna end up being like family, whether we like it or not," Jisung deadpans, making himself comfortable on the floor. "It's how it always works out. Especially with stupid Chan. Most of us have been working together and living here for years."

You look around at the boys.

"So get along," Seungmin says gruffly. "Or we'll kick you both out."

You're hardly paying attention to what either of them are saying, 'cause now Minho's hand is in your panties, and he's slowly rubbing your clit, careful so that the other members can't see his arm moving.

"I have a feeling it'll be resolved in no time," Minho says coolly, smiling. "Right, Y/N?"

You choke, nodding. "Yeah! Right! Everything is - oh god - everything is totally great. Solved in no time."

"Is everything okay?" Hyunjin asks.

"She has a stomachache," Minho says, nodding solemnly. "I think she may have drank a little too much." That's a lie and you know it, but you barely even register the comment. You're practically doubled over into your blanket, clinging on to Minho's wrist for dear life as you try not to moan out loud.

"A stomachache? Are you okay?" Chan moves to get closer, but Minho holds his hand out.

"I'm taking care of her. It'll be okay," he says kindly, using the hand that's not making my legs shake to run his fingers through my hair, pausing to feel my temperature. "I think we should get to bed, if you guys don't mind. We'll work it out."

"Mhm!" You cough to cover your whimper, and suffer in silence as the members filter back downstairs, off to sleep.

"Fuck you," you say softly as soon as the trapdoor closes.

Minho grins. "I could." You feel him pushing you to lie down, pressing your back against your soft blanket. One hand moves to hold yours above your head, and you wriggle in his grasp, moaning softly. "Such pretty sounds, baby."

"Since when did you call me baby?"

"Since I wanted to get you turned on. Is it working?"

"What do you think?" You turn your head and bite the closest thing to you to muffle your cries. This happens to be Minho's shirt, which remains on your bed from where he discarded it earlier.

"You're so pretty," he mumbles, fingers running through your hair. "I've thought that since I met you."

"What?" you giggle, tugging him away to look him in the eyes, ignoring the fact that one hand is dancing across the seam of your panties. "We met on that first day boxing, remember?"

"I know." Minho breathes out lightly, his minty breath tickling your face. "You looked so beautiful."

"I was drenched in sweat, wearing hardly anything, and almost got beat half to death by Yeji."

Minho shrugs. "I thought you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen."

You roll your eyes. "Fuck off, Minho."

"I'm serious." He catches your shoulder as you move to sit up, pinning you down to the bed. "I'm serious, Y/N."

You scoff, but he shakes his head. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"Stop being so cheesy," you mumble. "Just show me what you mean."

He rolls his eyes playfully, tongue-in-cheek, but leans down to kiss you anyways. You moan softly, rolling your hips against his. "God, Minho."

"Feel good, baby?"

You gasp as you feel him bite your collarbone, and you're sure he's leaving pretty violet marks all along your neckline. "Use your words, hmm?"

"G-good, so good," you say softly, eyes shutting.

Minho hums, and you feel him smiling into the crook of your neck. "Think you can take me?"

You would have smacked him, or given him a look or something for his cocky attitude, but you can't. Your arms are pinned above your head, your pussy is throbbing, and Minho's tongue is slowly tracing around your nipple, leaning further down to suck on it. You gasp again, arching your back so you jerk up into him.

"Nuh uh uh," he says, pleased with your reaction. "Words."

"Just fuck me," you tell him forcefully, squirming in his grasp. You audibly moan as you feel him lightly smack your center, sending a cold shockwave through your body.

"What if I just left you like this?" Minho grins down at you. "Horny, desperate . . ." He leans down so he's whispering in your ear. "You're such a slut that you'd probably go fuck one of them, right? One of them downstairs?"

You moan at the word, writhing. "Minho, stop . . ." You know you don't mean it, he knows you don't mean it. So he continues.

"You'd go find Hyunjin, right? I saw the way you were looking at him earlier." Minho laughs, but it isn't really a laugh. It's dry, airy - not humorous at all. "Lying with your head in his lap, looking up at him like he was some god . . ."

You whimper, fists clenched.

"You're mine now, baby."

You don't even argue. "Y-yours, 'm all yours."

"And don't you forget it."

"Never . . ."

"Do you think you're ready, love?"

You nod urgently, gripping the sheets as he steadies himself, holding his cock so he can push it in. You moan as he pushes in, already so full. "M-Minho, I can't . . ."

Minho smiles, pressing a peck against your lips. "That's just the tip, baby. You can take it, can't you?"

You nod slowly, and he pushes in further. You feel like he's splitting you in two, and he hasn't even pushed in all the way.

"Taking me so well," Minho holds the side of your face, cooing at you like you're one of the cats he keeps in his dorm. "You're so tight, baby, are you a virgin? God, I'm gonna corrupt this little pussy . . ." He pushes in all the way, covering your mouth at the same time.

You moan loudly into his palm, eyes rolling back.

"You look like you just went to heaven, baby," Minho chides. "How do you feel?"

You pant, looking up at him, barely able to keep your eyes open.

"How do you feel, kitty?" Minho takes hold of your chin, forcing you to acknowledge him.

"Mmmm," you mumble, and he drops his hold, slowly starting to fuck into you.

Before you know it, he's picked you up off the bed, letting your legs wrap around his waist, keeping his cock inside of you, and has you pressed against the wall, one hand under the back of your thigh to support you and the other loosely pinning your hands to the wall above your head. You bounce with every thrust up into you, and Minho tongues at your tits.

"Wanna make sure you can't walk after this," he groans into your ear. "Wanna hear you get so cock drunk that you can't even form a complete sentence.

"I'm close," you say softly, head thrown back.

"Already, baby? Feels that good?"

You moan in response, incoherent strings of curses flying out of your mouth. Your mouth opens in a silent sob as you cum around him, eyes rolling back once again. He fucks you through your high, holding your cheek and rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone.

"Wanna . . . wanna make you cum . . ." you say softly, blinking up at him.

"Tonight was about you, baby," he says, nodding. "Do you feel good?"

You nod.

"Then that's all I need."

"But-"

"Hey, think about it like this. You owe me - from earlier, remember?"

You nod, legs shaking as he lets you down. You stumble, and he catches you, bringing you to the bed and helping you get under the covers.

"This is what you owe me - not a blowjob, not a handjob, whatever. I want you to let me sleep in bed with you and hold you tonight."

"That actually sounds really nice," you say, smiling.

"Yeah?"

You nod, curling into him as he lies down next to you. "You're cute, Minho."

He grins, fingers running through your hair. "You think so?"

"Mhm."

You hear him still talking to you, but you barely register it, drifting off to sleep in his arms.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

The next morning, Minho helps you out of bed, your legs still shaking. He brings you to the shower, where he washes your hair and runs his hands all over your body, then helps you dry off and change into one of his T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He brings you downstairs, gently carrying you down the stairs on his back.

"Do you think anyone else is up yet?" you mumble as the two of you enter the kitchen.

Everyone is already gathered around the kitchen table, talking about whatever, but they all pause when the two of you enter. You see Jeongin laugh and spit out his milk at Seungmin, who shoots him a look.

"So . . ." Hyunjin says, breaking the silence. "I take it you guys took my advice?"

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ PREVIEW for boxer, lee minho

TROPE. organized crime au, stray kids mafia au, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, minors do not interact !

FINISHED STORY here

SYNOPSIS. y/n is a mercenary-for-hire - and one of the best in the league. the only problem is, she's constantly fighting over who's best with none other than her arch enemy, the very man who keeps beating her in every game they play: lee minho. the boxer. however, when she, minho, and the rest of a group that comes together to become known as the "stray kids" band together, they have to find a way to get along with each other, which may be easier than they originally had assumed.

WARNING. proceed with caution

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ POLAROID CHRISTMAS. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : bang chan x female reader

TROPE. non-idol!au , roommates to lovers, christmas!au, fwb to lovers

WORD COUNT. 2.5K

WARNINGS. smut, some angst, mentions of abandonment, mom has a new husband and kids that she left her daughter for

SYNOPSIS. chan is used to spending his christmas alone - his family lives in australia, and it's too expensive for him to fly home for the holidays. you, on the other hand, are definitely not used to spending christmas like this. after your newly-engaged mother decides to leave you for her new family for a trip to brazil for the winter months, you find yourself longing for a family of your own - and chan seems happy enough to provide one for you.

SMUT WARNINGS. boudoir photography, voyeurism, slightly fingering (it's just touching ig), dirty talk, possessive!chan, dumbification, ownership things ig idk, pet names, use of "good girl", reader has a praise kink, unprotected sex, doggy style YUH, bdsm *ish (reader gets tied with ribbons), creampie

If Chan is anything, he's the best roommate you've ever had.

You've thought about the fact many times - watching him cook breakfast for you, and raking your nails down his back twenty minutes later.

Either way - he's always been perfect. The two of you met in college, hit it off, and dated for a year. You agreed you were better off as friends, but continued to live together. You then decided that it was easiest to not have anything committal, but still be able to release some pent-up sexual tension on each other, so you became friends with benefits. The arrangement worked for both of you - it was easy, it was simple, and it wasn't difficult to walk three feet over to his room whenever you wanted a quick fuck.

Not only was he willing to fuck you into every wall of your shared apartment, but now, a year after you'd both graduated college, he remained as one of the best friends you'd ever had.

You realize this as the two of you sit on the couch of your small home. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, sheltering you from everything trying to bombard you as you sob into his chest.

You hear him muttering softly to you, running his fingers through your hair as you cry. His other hand rests lightly on your waist, pressing you close against him and keeping the blanket wrapped around you tight to your body.

"What am I gonna do?" you sob, voice muffled against his sweater. "I've never not gone home for Christmas. She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," he mumbles. "She wants to spend some time with her husband, that's all-"

"Her new husband and her new fucking kids," you snap.

Chan pulls away from you, looking down at you. "Y/N . . ." He puts one hand on either side of your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "No one in their right mind would ever replace you. There's no way your mother has."

"She has," you say, sure of your conclusion.

"No she hasn't," Chan assures you. "Please, trust me."

You finally meet his eyes, face swollen. "Yes she has . . ." Your lip quivers, as if you're going to cry again, and Chan shakes his head.

"There's nothing I can do to convince you that she won't, but I can keep telling you. No one in their right mind would replace you."

"I already had the tickets home." Your lips sink into a pout, closing your eyes. "I told her I had the tickets and she still fucking left."

Chan watches you, tilting his head. "Why don't we both go?"

"Both go?"

He nods, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. "It'd be nice to spend Christmas in the countryside. We'll spend it together - just you and me. Yeah?"

You nod, slowly. "Yeah . . ."

"Does that sound okay?"

You blink twice, letting his words sink in. "You wanna spend Christmas with me?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

You pause. Then, "Chan, you're really fucking amazing, you know that?"

He smiles, bringing you in for a hug. "I'll never be as amazing as you are."

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆⭒

The next week passes rather monotonously, with only the reminder of yours and Chan's upcoming trip to your old family home in the countryside serving as your purpose to continue through your days.

The day finally arrived that the two of you would take the train to your home town. You wait at the door of your apartment, yelling, "Hurry the fuck up! It's leaving soon!"

Chan emerges from his room, dressed up in a winter jacket that's way too big for him and a scarf wrapped around his neck. "You look cute," he says as he gets closer to you.

"Cute can wait," you say, pushing him towards the door, "we have a train to catch!"

It's not long before you're both seated on the train, you falling slowly asleep as you stare out the window at the scenery passing by.

"Here," Chan says, taking notice of your sleepy eyes. "Lie your head on my shoulder. I'll put my scarf down so it's not so hard."

You oblige, too tired from rushing around the train station to argue with him.

It seems barely moments later that you're waking up at your stop, watching Chan pull your luggage down from overhead.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking it from him and pausing to wait. He follows soon after, and the two of you exit onto the platform. You trip slightly as you step off, but Chan wraps his arm around your waist and holds you up, helping you finish stepping over onto the platform.

"What a beautiful couple," a woman coming off after you says, smiling.

"Oh, we're not-"

"Thank you so much," Chan says, smiling at her.

"Merry Christmas, you two!" The woman called, walking away, and you're reminded that it's Christmas Eve.

As the two of you are walking away, you turn to him. "Why did you let her think we're a couple?"

He shrugs. "What's the harm? It was easier to say that than to explain what we actually are."

You roll your eyes, but follow him to the rental car you have waiting.

From the train station, it's only an hour drive to your old family home. Your mother grew up poor, but your father came from old money. Naturally, when his mother died, he - as the only child - inherited all of her worldly possessions. This included her land, including a massive manor in the countryside and a cottage, just a few miles away. When he and your mother divorced, he gave her the cottage in exchange for her taking care of you, and him not having to see you.

Chan pauses as the two of you approach. "This is where you're from?"

You nod grimly. "Yeah."

You give him a brief tour of the house, and finally end in the kitchen, sighing. "There's only one downside. There's only one bedroom."

"That's easy, I'll just take the couch."

You shake your head. "You have the bed. I'll have the couch."

He wags his finger in front of you, laughing. "No no no. Why don't we just share the bed, huh? It's not like we haven't before."

You cross your arms, staring at him.

"What?" He slinks closer to you, one arm looping around your waist. "Don't tell me you don't remember last week . . . when you were practically sobbing, begging for me."

You shake him off, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, alright. We'll share."

He grins, letting go. "I'm excited for this."

"For what? Christmas?"

"Mhm," he mumbles, pulling you back to him.

"Chan, come on . . ."

"Y/N . . ." he presses his face into your neck, smiling.

"Fucking nympho," you mumble.

"Hey!" he laughs, curling you closer. "I'm not."

"Then what do you want right now?"

He doesn't respond for a moment. Then, softy, he says, "I wanna fuck you . . ."

You roll your eyes. "See?"

"See what? I just want to give you something special in this holiday season." He smiles, pulling away for a second.

You push him off again. "If you wanna fuck me, then you have to catch me." You laugh as you take off down the hall, running up the stairs.

You hear him shout after you, but you barely register what he's saying. You run up the stairs, down the hall, and skid into your mother's old room, huddling into the closet. You take a soft breath as you hear Chan coming down the hall, searching the rooms. He opens the door to the room you're in, and you cover your mouth.

"Found you!" Chan crows triumphantly as he throws open the door of the closet you're inside. You laugh as he pulls you out of the small recess in the wall. "Which means . . . ?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

He grins, leaning in to kiss you gently. "You have such nice tasting lips."

"Really?"

He nods. "Mhm. Like . . . strawberries, maybe? But those really sweet ones."

You giggle, pulling your chapstick out of your pocket and holding it up so he can see. "I'm glad you like it."

"I like it very much," he mumbles, kissing you again. And again. And again. Until, suddenly, you're trapped underneath a shirtless Chan, your jeans discarded somewhere in the room and your makeup messy and smudged as Chan desperately traces his lips down your stomach, holding the backs of your thighs close in his huge hands.

"You taste fucking divine," Chan growls against your skin, biting your pelvic bone lightly. You jolt, and he grins up at you. "Did that hurt?"

"Felt good," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiles. "Good."

"Just relax, baby," he says. "Let me take care of you. Is that okay?"

You nod shakily, feeling him crawl back up your body. His fingers slip gently down your lower stomach, and your breath catches. He kisses you slowly as one finger rubs between your folds, not enough to cause friction, but enough pressure to make you feel something.

You worm around under him, reaching to rub yourself, but he shakes his head. "Hands above your head."

You sigh as you lift your hands so that they're draped prettily on the pillows above your head. Chan climbs off you and disappears into the hallway, coming back a moment later with a long blue ribbon. "It was gonna be part of your Christmas present. Wanna see you all wrapped up and pretty."

"So it was just a present for you?" you ask skeptically as he wraps it around your wrists.

He smiles. "Maybe, love."

You relax into the bed as he twirls the ribbon around you, gently lying over your breasts, your thighs, your stomach - it was all wrapped in a deep blue ribbon.

"Well aren't you just the prettiest thing I've ever seen," Chan mumbles, stepping back to admire his handiwork once he's tied off the last bow. "This is really hot."

You look up at him. "I can't move."

"Isn't that the point?"

You shrug as best you can, waiting a moment as he sits back and watches. "Y/N . . . can I . . . can I take a picture?"

"A picture?" your eyes widen at the question. All the times you and Chan have done stuff like this, he's never asked to document it.

"I mean, yeah . . . if that's okay with you. You look pretty, and, I dunno, I wanna remember this moment."

You blink up at him. "Uh, yeah. Sure. You can take a picture."

Chan breaks into a grin, standing and darting out into the hall. A moment later, he returns carrying a polaroid camera - your polaroid camera.

"That's mine," you point out.

He ignores you, holding up the camera so that it's pointed at you.

"Chan, when I said you can take a picture I assumed you meant on your phone."

"Do you mind that it's like this?" Chan peeks over the camera at you.

You watch him for a moment before responding. "No, I don't mind."

The photo is taken before you can even finish your sentence. Chan waits for the film to develop as it prints out of the camera, sitting down on the bed beside you. "You're so pretty . . ." he says softly, watching it.

"Chan, I appreciate how sentimental you're being right now, but my pussy is so wet I can barely register it. Can you fuck me?"

He grins, setting both the film and the camera on your bedside table. "Yeah, I can fuck you." He pulls your legs apart, maneuvering them so it won't disrupt the ribbon sequence, and audibly groans as he sees your cunt. Then, he stands and pulls his pants off, leaving both of you naked. "Gonna fuck this pussy until it can't remember anything but me. Until you can't say anything but my name."

You look at Chan. He'd never been so . . . possessive before. You kind of liked it.

He leans in close, the tip of his cock leaking against your stomach. "I want you to be mine." He sits up to look at you. "What are you?"

"Yours," you say softly, staring up at him.

"Good girl," Chan says, but you barely notice what he's saying, because at the same time, he thrusts into you hard, leaving him hilt deep, pelvis pressed against your own. You gasp, straining against the ribbons as you arch your back into him. "Look at that reaction . . ." Chan smiles. "So good for me, yeah? So good."

"S-so good," you say softly. "Only for you."

"Can I move a little?"

"No, wait, please . . . it hurts a little."

"I didn't prep you, baby," he mumbles, face moving to kiss your neck. "It'll feel good. Do you trust me?"

You whimper, nodding.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, his cock dragging along your inner walls. "Fuck," you whisper.

Then, he thrusts back in again, beginning to move at a steady pace. The pace starts slower, gentle, and he gets rougher and faster the louder your moans get.

"You're doing so well," Chan says softly. "Sit up for me, baby."

You do as he says, and you barely know what's happening before you're face down in your pillows, and Chan is inside you again, pounding harder.

"Oh, fuck, Y/N," he says, and you feel him peppering kisses along your shoulders. "Fuck you're tight. Every time I fuck you you're tight - how do you even do it . . ."

He's pussy drunk, you manage to think to yourself, not even beginning to comprehend that you, too, are drunk off of him.

"Chan," you mumble. "Chan, Chan, Chan." His name spills out of your lips like some ancient chant. Over and over, with every drag and thrust in and out of your body.

You couldn't even begin to form the words to tell him you're about to cum when you do, but when you do release, he knows. He cums quickly after you, the tightening of your walls squeezing every last drop of his seed into your cunt. Finally, you both slow. You collapse into him, breathing heavily.

Chan helps you lie down, then delicately begins to untie the ribbons holding you, releasing you from your bonds. When you're fully untied, he wipes you off with a warm washcloth (that he somehow managed to retrieve between taking off your bonds and putting them back in his suitcase) and lies back down next to you, wrapping the both of you in the plushiest blanket you've ever seen.

"Chan?" you ask after a moment of lying in silence.

"Hm?"

"What did you mean when you said you wanted me to be yours?"

He meets your gaze. "Exactly what it sounds like. I've been in love with you since college, Y/N."

You blink at him. "Since college?"

He nods. "Since college."

"Chan, you fucking piece of shit."

"What?"

"I've loved you since college too."

He smiles. "Really?"

"Why do you think I let you fuck me?"

"I dunno, I thought-"

"Not every guy with a nice face gets in my bed, you know."

"You think I have a nice face?"

"Shut up."

Chan grins, pulling you closer to him. "Merry Christmas, my love."

You smile, leaning into his warm embrace, and look out the window at the falling snow as it coats the trees outside. "Merry Christmas, Chan."

AUTHOR'S NOTE. i hate this so much. merry christmas to everyone that celebrates it! i'm probably going to come back and edit this eventually but honestly i just wanted something to upload right now. let me know if you have any requests for fics! usually i try to get requests done within a day or two of seeing them, so feel free!! love you all!!

[producedbyhanjisung]

Omg that alien chan shot u wrote was just perfect 👌👌 I was thinking if you were to make a pt 2 if maybe reader had her own fun with testing out Chan’s sensitivity aka his tentacle? lol I don’t know if that’s weird 😂 but seriously it was too good 😁

thank you so much!! i really appreciate the feedback - im newer to writing on here so its so helpful. im not sure yet if im making a part two for the alien chan fic, but that'll definitely be a huge point of it if i do. i can just imagine him with his eyes rolled back while the reader makes little circles on the side- im getting ahead of myself. glad you liked it!!

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ ALL MINE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : christopher bahng x female reader

TROPE. alien chan au, friends to lovers au, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. mentions of war, mentions of aliens

SYNOPSIS. when chan crash-lands on earth after running headfirst into the international space station, he has no choice but to follow the mysterious girl from earth who offers him exactly what he needs - a place to sleep, food to eat, and a pair lips that were practically a dream on their own. chan finds that he is fantasizing about you more and more, until finally, he snaps.

SMUT WARNINGS. nipple play (female receiving), hickeys, making out, tentacle play, corruption kink, spit kink, blindfolding, dom!chan, sub!reader, bulge kink, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

If you were anything, you were smart. Street smart, book smart - a combination of the two.

Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion. Any smart person knows not to run toward an explosion that came from a ship. Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion that came from a ship that came from the sky.

And yet, that's exactly what you were doing.

What if someone was hurt? What if there weren't even people on board?

Thoughts ricocheted through your head as you ran, but you didn't react to any of them. The only thing in your mind was getting to that sleek silver work of aerospace art that had collapsed onto the property of you and your college roommate’s newly purchased farmhouse.

When you arrived at the crash site, it was burning. But not regular flames - these were purple. Tendrils of violet and lavender reached up to the sky, grasping for the sky, never to reach.

You froze, watching someone stumble out of the wreck, coughing and dusted in a layer of dark ash. "Fuck!" They yelled, turning and kicking the ship, not minding the fire. "Fucking fuckity fuck!"

You weren't sure what to do. Should you approach the guy, or should you hide and watch from a distance, until you knew he wasn't a threat? What would a smart person do . . .

Thankfully, you didn't have to think that hard. The person turned, catching a glimpse of you through the trees.

"Hello?" he called - you could see he looked more masculine now, but you couldn't make out the details of his face or clothes.

"Is that yours?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"What do you think?" he snapped. He had an accent - vaguely Australian sounding, but not quite. His voice was deep and full, and sent a corkscrew of warmth down your spine.

"Well I'd assume so, but people out here have been getting wild lately."

The man shook his head, groaning and pressing his face into his hands.

"What's your name?" you call after a moment of watching him mentally decompose.

He doesn't answer for a minute. Then, "Chan." It's muffled through his fingers, but you hear it. "Bang Chan." Then he looks up, eyes meeting yours. "Yours?"

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

Silence again.

"How'd your ship crash anyways?"

Chan shakes his head. "Your fucking International Space Station."

You pause. "What?"

"The International Space Station - you know what that is right?"

"Obviously. You said your. As if it's not yours too. It's international." You suppose a smart person would have caught on by now, and you slowly were. But you don't want to admit it - it's impossible, isn't it?

"Y/N, darling, I'm not from Earth so therefore the word 'international' does not apply to me, so yes, I meant your stupid fucking space station took out my stupid fucking spaceship."

You stare at him, mouth hanging open. It's only when a little bit of drool threatened to slip out that you close it. "You mean you're-"

"An alien~ wooooooo." He turned towards me on the "woo", half-heartedly making an impression of a ghost from a shitty 80s horror movie. "Scared?"

You just blink. "Not scared . . . maybe a little confused?"

"Why?"

"If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it already."

Chan is crossing to you now, tilting his head as he stops a few feet from you. "How do you know I won't hurt you? My species loves feasting on humans. How do you know I'm not saving you for later?"

"Maybe you are. Later is later, whatever. I have so many questions."

Chan pretends to pout. "I don't really wanna answer them."

"Can I have three?" You pretend to pout back, rolling your eyes.

He nods, waving me on.

"Why Earth?"

"Just what I was passing by."

"Where are you from?"

"A planet called Levanter. On the planet, I'm from District 9."

You take in the information, calculating your final question. "Are you really gonna eat me?"

Chan laughs. "No, of course not. That would be bad etiquette."

You smile a little as he turns away. "Levanter is where you're from?"

He hums in response, nodding. "Levanter is an ugly planet. You wouldn't like it."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's dying. All black rocks and lava and women with no teeth."

"What?"

He frowns. "Levanter's dying, and its people are too. Everyone is as ugly as the planet."

Before you can bite your tongue, you blurt out, "You're not ugly."

Chan scoffs. "Please. By standards on Levanter, I'm purely average. I have this friend named Hyunjin-" He pauses, as if checking the amount of information he gives you. "Anyway. I have to fix my ship now. So if you could-"

"I have space. Where you could fix it. And tools." You can't help but want to know more about this mysterious world of Levanter, and Chan's home of District 9. You also don't want to leave the strange alien-man wandering around in the woods near your house - you'd rather be able to keep an eye on him, especially since your new neighbors are nosy. You're sure that the people of your town wouldn't take Chan's arrival on Earth as well as you had. "And food," you add. "You eat, right?"

"Everything eats, Y/N."

"So will you come with me? It's getting late." You motion at the sinking sun, which has just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a beautiful light show of crimson, gold, and vermillion across the atmosphere. "We can leave your ship here, if it makes you feel better. We can get it tomorrow morning. No one ever comes out here."

"You came out here."

I sigh. "I saw your ship crash. Seeing as no one else is here, I'm assuming I was the only one. Plus, you need to get your wounds treated. That doesn't look too good." You motion to a gash on his shoulder, exposed where his suit had torn. It looks fresh, and you gather that it was from the crash.

Chan pauses, thinking for a minute, then nods. "We'll leave the ship here, and bring it to your safe place tomorrow. Right?"

"Right. Is that okay?"

He nods again, starting to follow you as you turn on your heels.

It's a fifteen minute walk back to your small farmhouse, shared with Mina, your roommate, who texted you the day before that she was staying in the city with her boyfriend for the week.

"No one else is home," you explain to him as you push open the door. The city you attended college was only an hour from the seemingly-middle-of-nowhere location you and Mina had chosen to stay over the summer, which meant she could visit her boyfriend, who had bought an apartment on campus.

"You live with someone else?"

You nod. "Her name's Mina. She won't be home for a few days though. How long will it take for you to get your ship back up and running?"

"A week, maybe two?"

You cough. "Two weeks?"

He shrugs. "I didn't look at the damage at all. I just followed you. I won't really have a good idea until I look tomorrow."

You stare out the window, eyes focused on your old Land Rover in the driveway. "Okay."

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm really hungry," Chan says, laughing a little. "I had plenty of food on the ship, but I'm guessing it might be a little burnt right now."

“Maybe just a little,” you agree. “What kind of food do people on Levanter eat?”

He shrugs. “I like Nilla wafers.”

“What?”

“Those come from Earth, don’t they? Nilla wafers. Do you have any?”

You shake your head slowly. “I could run out and get some, if you’d like.” You’re baffled. Here’s this strange alien-man with an Australianish and who you can see has at least three knives on him currently, and here he is asking for Nilla wafers. “You’re a silly dude, Chan.”

He shrugs.

“Do you really want Nilla wafers?”

Another shrug.

“Do you want me to go get you some? It’ll probably take me around a half an hour.”

Yet another shrug. You glare at Chan, who gives you a half-hearted thumbs up.

“You’re so . . .”

“Infuriating?”

“Human,” you finish, staring at him.

“Humans descend from people on Levanter. We migrated here long ago - when we first found out our planet was dying. The lucky ones escaped to here - paradise. The unfortunate were left to die on Levanter.”

You stare at him. “Then how come people don’t know about Levanter here? Or that there are other beings in space?”

Chan sighs. “They wanted a fresh start here. The ships dropped them off ass naked and freezing to the bone. That’s what you call Neanderthals, right? Memories fade over time, and over millennia, I guess it’s easy to forget about what you don’t want to remember.”

You stare at him. “So Earth has this big crazy lore and no one even knows about it? What the fuck?”

Chan nods. “I know it sounds crazy. You don’t have to believe me.”

And yet, you trust him. You believe that Chan is telling the truth.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the new world of information sink into your mind. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and even harder to realize that you’re probably the only Earth-born person alive to know about the existence of Levanter and entities beyond Earth. And here, one of them is sitting in your kitchen, drinking chocolate milk out of a bright blue sippy cup.

Finally, you clap your hands together, startling Chan. “Okay. Should we go to the store?”

“Like a grocery store? For what?”

“Nilla wafers, dummy.”

—————————————————————————

Eight days after Chan landed on Earth, it feels like you’ve lived together for an eternity. Like he’s a regular human guy, who goes to college with you - maybe he majors in something dumb like English.

He works on his ship during the day, and you visit him, working on summer homework in the back corner of the barn, listening to him tell stories about Levanter and his family, and his dog Berry (dogs were also apparently Levanter-delivered to Earth, because humans were too incompetent to survive on their own).

He’s moved on from his short-lived obsession with Nilla wafers, moving onto the strange discovery of sprinkles, which he now keeps a tin of in his back pocket. The first day he was here, you went out and thrifted a bunch of clothes for him that weren’t a space suit, since most of his burnt up in the crash. He liked the baggy jeans and knit sweaters you brought back for him, saying that if you ever needed to borrow one, he'd be happy to lend it to you.

You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts currently, sitting on a hay bale in the barn, watching Chan as he works on his ship. The night breeze tickles what little skin you have exposed, and you shiver under the mint-green layer. It smells like him, you note. Something homely but unfamiliar to you, although it felt like you should know it. The scent gives you heavy eyelids.

"'S fucking hot in here," Chan mutters, turning around to look at you.

You shiver in response, shaking your head. "I don't know how you're hot."

"Are you cold? Come here." Chan opens his arms as he waddles toward you, wrapping his body around yours in a warm hug. He looks down at you. "Should we call it a night? I need to let a few things sit in there."

You nod sleepily, letting him gently tug you to your feet.

"Tired too?" Chan asks. He tsks. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to sit with you. I like your stories," you mumble.

"Of Levanter?"

"Your sister, your dog. Your music."

In the short while you've known Chan, you've discovered lots about him. He produces music on Levanter, and was a part of a music group before he and the rest of his band enlisted in the military. He has a dog, a sister, a brother, and two great parents. He and his friend Felix were both pilots in the military of District 9, which was at war with District 16. He and Felix had been on a deep space mission when they were struck by a meteor storm, and Chan was blown off course. He ran straight into Earth's International Space Station, and landed in your backyard.

And that's how he ended up here, with you peacefully sleeping beside him on the couch of your living room. He couldn't help but watch you. Your lips were parted slightly, eyes flitting back and forth beneath your lids, chest rising and falling with your gentle breathing.

How can someone be so beautiful? he thought. Sure, women on Levanter were usually not too pretty - but even compared to the other Earth-born women he had seen on TV and such, you were like a goddess. Chan found himself wanting to drop to his knees every time you entered the room, and treat you exactly how a goddess should be treated.

Yesterday, he had awoken in a cold sweat after having a dream exactly like that. He was on his knees in front of you, lips trailing up and down the insides of your thighs while you fell apart above him. Such pretty sounds dream you had made.

Chan shakes off the memory. He's only known you for eight days, how is he having thoughts like this? And yet he can't shake the image of your pretty eyes watching him, hooded, and your lips parted for a completely different reason. He wondered what you taste like. Sweet, he finally decides. Like raspberries.

He watches you for a while longer, ignoring the quiet noise of the television in the background. Finally, when he decides you won't be waking up any time soon, he walks quietly over to you and scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

You stir a little as he lifts you, and mumble into his chest, "Fucking chinchillas." He wonders what you could possibly be dreaming about that you're having an argument with chinchillas.

Chan's careful as he goes up the stairs, making sure not to trip over the crooked sixth step. When he gets to your room, he carefully lies you in your bed, pulling your blanket up over you after he did so.

He turns toward your closet, where his small repertoire of Earthy clothes are sitting on one of your abandoned shelves. Softly, he changes his clothes into pajamas, opting to put on a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and leaving his shirt off. When he steps out of your closet, you're still fast asleep, facing the opposite wall.

He leaves your room quietly, making his way down the hall to your roommate, Mina's room. You told him a few days ago that Mina was staying with her boyfriend in the city nearby for a little bit, so he didn't have to worry about sleeping in her bed or intruding on her space. You assured him that he should make himself at home, but he still got a little nervous every time he walked in the room, feeling out of place.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing, and tapping his intercom face. Though the screen was damaged, he had kept it on his wrist since he had arrived on Earth. The screen remained dark, and he tapped it again, twice this time.

Suddenly, there was a holographic image of Felix standing in front of him. The hologram was shaky and out of focus, but it was definitely Felix - what other soldier with an intercom had bright blue hair and wore a sweater vest?

"Chan?" Felix asked. "Where . . . disappeared . . . went home . . . sorry . . . are you?"

"You're cutting out," Chan said, standing. "Felix, wait, say that again, you're-"

"Come . . . invasion . . . soldiers . . . pick up . . . weeks . . ."

"You keep cutting out." Chan's voice was raising. Stupid fucking broken intercom. Suddenly, the communication cut out entirely, and Chan was once again left in silence in the strange room.

—————————————————————————

You were screaming. That's all you could register as you sat up straight in your bed, breathing heavily.

Chan's in your room in a heartbeat. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants you remember buying for him. "Y/N? Y/N! Hey, what happened?" He's in front of you now, hands on your shoulders and face inches from yours, searching your features in a frenzy.

And now you're crying. You can't even remember what you were dreaming about anymore. Just the fact that Chan had sprinted from his room to yours in a matter of seconds just to make sure you were okay is enough to make you cry. You're so cool, Y/N. You roll your eyes at yourself mentally.

Chan pauses awkwardly in front of you as you bury your face in your plush blanket. "What the fuck?" you manage to say, wiping your tears as you look back up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay. Breathe with me, okay? In . . . eight, seven six . . . out . . . four, five, six . . ."

You realize he's doing Box Breathing with you, a military technique for staying calm. Moments like this, seeing him so humanly, you forget he's a soldier - and one not even of this world. You forget he's killed, and injured, and committed heinous crimes against other beings.

"See? Everything's fine." Chan reaches out, taking your hand in his. You look down, caught off guard, and take in how veiny his hands are, how nimble and long his pretty fingers look. "Just breathing. Yeah?"

You look back up at his face. "Thank you."

"Yeah, of course."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

"Can you stay with me?" you ask quietly. "In case that . . . happens again."

Chan nods. "Do you want me on the floor?"

You shake your head. "You can stay in my bed. It's the least I can do, if you're gonna stay in here."

He gives you a small smile, dimples extra deep-looking in the moonlight.

You move over, closer to the wall your bed is pushed against, and let Chan get in next to you.

He slides softly under the covers, and you feel his arm touching yours as the two of you look up at the ceiling.

"Do you miss Levanter?" you ask him quietly.

Chan is silent for a minute. Then, "No."

"No?" You turn over to face him, propping your head up on your elbow and curling your knees to your chest. The room is dark, but you catch a glimpse of his eyes raking up and down your legs.

He turns too. "Y/N, you don't know what it's like to be a soldier on a dying planet. Riots, homicides, bombings . . . they're everyday things no matter where you are on the planet. Here it's . . ." he pauses, looking for the word. "This is the safest I've ever felt, actually."

You stare at him, overcome with emotion. You can't even begin to imagine the traumatic events he's witnessed, the countless lives he himself has had to take, the amount of people he's watched the life seep away from.

"Look." Chan sits up, turning away from you so that his bare back is in front of you. You try to ignore the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the way they flex tenderly beneath the skin. "Can you see?" You nod, taking in what's on top of the muscles. Scars. Tons of them, big and small, twisting across the canvas of flesh on his back.

"You have so many scars," you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch one right below his left shoulder blade.

He hisses quietly, wincing away gingerly. It's an inhumane sound, one that a snake might produce, and you're reminded that Chan isn't actually a human. Humans may have evolved from his species, but you have no idea of his anatomy and physiology - you can only assume it's similar to yours. "That's war, love."

Love. You try not to shiver at the unexpected pet name. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you over his shoulder. "Why are you sorry?"

"That this happened. That your planet is like this. That-"

"Stop." Chan's hand is covering your mouth. "You shouldn't be sorry. Let's not talk about this any more."

You nod.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You glance over at him.

"Is it weird if I ask to kiss you?"

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, threatening to jump out and give Chan a big old smooch itself.

"I-no. It's not weird. Why though?"

He shrugs. "Wanna see if Earth people do it differently."

You stare at him. "Do you think we do?"

"There's only one way to find out." His lips are on yours. They're big, plush, soft against yours, groping desperately for a hold on your mouth. He's a fantastic kisser, pausing to bite your lip gently and pull it towards him. He lets go, and his lips are back on you in a moment, soothing the pain.

When he pulls away, he swears he's never seen a prettier sight. The neck of your sweater is pulled down, exposing your bare shoulder, and your lips are swollen and red. You're looking up at Chan through hooded eyes, trying to guess his next move.

Chan moves closer to you, gently pushing you down against the pillows. Not with either of his hands, you realize as he hovers over you, because they're both supporting his weight on either side of your head. You look down, seeing a flash of purple disappear behind Chan's back.

"What was that?" you ask him.

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You jerk your head at his hands.

Chan sighs. "I thought you might get scared, but I got carried away. I won't bring it out again. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking apologize. Can I see it?"

"What?"

"Can I see your weird tentacle thing?"

His weird tentacle thing pokes up over his shoulder, slithering through the air towards you. You reach out, brushing your nails over it, and Chan shivers, grabbing your wrist. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"It . . ." Chan pauses. "It feels good."

You raise your eyebrows. "What do you mean?" You reach for it again, this time with your other hand, but his other hand shoots out to grab you.

"Y/N." His eyes are dark, watching you carefully. "Don't."

"What'll happen if I do?"

"God, Y/N." Chan is standing now, pacing around the room, his tentacle trailing in a wave pattern behind him.

"What's the big deal?" you ask. "If it feels good, why can't I touch it?"

"Because," Chan says, "once it starts I don't know if I'll be able to stop." He kneels next to your bed, looking up at you pleadingly. "I don't want to hurt you."

You bring your face closer to his, tilting your head and breathing in his sweet scent. "What if I don't want you to be able to stop? Who says people from Levanter don't fuck the same way people from Earth do?"

Chan snaps. In one motion, he's pulled you from your bed, tangled in blankets, and has you pressed into the fluffy fabric of your rug. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he says softly, voice deep.

"I have a pretty good idea. Plus, it's good experimentation, right?"

Chan grins, face moving closer to yours. You lean up to kiss him, but you feel something pinning you down - his tentacle, you realize.

"Not so quick, pretty."

You barely register the fact that his tentacle is taking off your shirt. All you can think of is that Chan called you pretty.

"Take your time," he chides, tracing his fingers slowly, teasingly up your bare abdomen.

"Are you kidding?"

His lips move down to yours, smile pressing against your mouth. "I'm dead serious."

You giggle a little, but are quieted quickly when his tentacle taps lightly against your hip, then traces itself towards your core. Chan leans back to look at you - half dressed, lips puffy, eyes lidded, chest heaving already. "You're perfect," he mumbles, leaning down to kiss right under your bra. He slides the fingers of his right hand up to your bra as well, sneaking them under your bra to roll your nipple between them. You gasp a little at the contact, and he looks up at you, grinning. "You like that?"

You nod quickly, and he squeezes your nipple a little, pushing your bra up at the same time so he can watch it. He stares, almost fascinated, as he tweaks and pulls and rubs your nipple. At one particularly harsh tug, you moan out quietly.

"That's so fuckin' hot," Chan mumbles, moving up so that he can lick your nipple. He runs his tongue harshly around it, seemingly trying to bury itself in the little hole in the center. Then he wraps his beautiful lips around it and sucks in, breathing in deeply as though it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "You're divine, love," he mumbles around your tit.

You feel his tentacle tracing your neck, slowly wrapping around it. "Chan," you say quickly, a little panicked.

"Sh, sh." His hand reaches up to cover your mouth, his own lips still hanging loosely on your nipple. "It's okay." As if reading your fears straight out of your mind, he adds, "I have complete control over it. It's not trying to kill you. Is this okay, or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you fucking dare stop."

He chuckles against your skin, letting his tentacle fully wrap around your throat. It squeezes a tiny bit, and you gasp at the feeling, your hips bucking up towards Chan. He tsks, tilting his head up at you and unlatching his mouth from your tit.

"Chan," you mumble, "Need more."

"More? More how? Show me."

You take his hand, watching him with hooded eyes, and pull it down to your core. The moment he comes in contact with you over your shorts you shiver.

"You're so sensitive," Chan says, lips turned up in a half smile as he watches you.

"Are you not?" You wrap your hands around part of the tentacle around your throat, testing the waters by stroking it a little, and his eyes roll back in his head, his entire body convulsing over you.

"Holy fuck," you say. "Chan, did you just-"

"No! No. No. I'm not- no."

You sit up, eyes widening. "Channie, did you really-"

His hand covers your mouth. "I didn't cum if that's what you're asking. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you look like you just descended into heaven and came back down a changed man."

Chan scoffs. "I did not descend into heaven."

You pump his tentacle again, and he doubles over, face pressed into your neck, a low groan tearing from his throat. "That's so fuckin' hot," you mumble.

Then, Chan is up again, pushing you once again back down into your pillows, this time using his tentacle to pin both hands above your head. "No touching, now," he says lowly.

You bite your tongue as he takes hold of your chin, turning your head so he can examine you. "Such a pretty little thing. I wanna ruin you."

You've never been more turned on in your entire life.

"Open," he says, one finger tapping your lips twice. You open your mouth obediently, and Chan leans forward. He opens his mouth, and a glowing blue liquid drips from his mouth into yours. He just spit in my mouth, you realize.

"Now you're mine." Chan watches as you swirl the spit around in your mouth. "All mine."

You hardly have time to ask what he means before his lips are on you again. You break the kiss away, looking up at Chan. "Fuck me. Rail me. Whatever you wanna fucking do- I need more."

He smiles. "Your wish is my command. But first . . ." He stands up next to your bed, his tentacle still holding your arms in place over your head, and pulls off his pajama pants, leaving him bare except for a pair of Calvin Klein boxers. He pauses in front of you, lips parted. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It's the fastest you've ever answered a question, you think.

He nods, taking his pant leg and draping it over your eyes. "Lift your head," he says. You do as he says, and feel him tie it in the back. You're blindfolded, your sense of sight blocked by a pair of black and white pajama pants. The pants smell good, you realize. Like rosewater.

Meanwhile, Chan pauses above you, one leg on either side of your hips. He looks down at your still form, arms draped above your head, eyes covered, stomach inflating and deflating with every breath you take. "Let's get rid of these first," he mumbles, pulling off your shorts. He watches as goosebumps spread along your body, the act foreign to him.

He runs his finger over your panties experimentally, and your hips jerk up into his palm, searching for friction. "Woah, woah. Needy, needy."

"Wasn't expecting it," you say softly.

Chan moves down so that his face is level with your core, pressing a gentle kiss over the fabric of your underwear. You squirm a little, and he moves his palm to press flat against your pelvis, holding you in place.

Gently, he hooks one finger under your panties and pulls them down off you. His eyes stay completely attached to your glistening cunt, watching for any little movement you make. Then, slowly, he leans forward to kiss it.

You moan the moment his lips touch you, wrapping around your clit. "Fuck," you breathe out, hands grasping tightly onto each other, still rendered useless by Chan's tentacle.

Chan looks up, gouging your reaction to his movements. You cum once, twice, three times on his tongue before you're using your legs to shove him away, the alien completely pussy-drunk.

His boxers are off and he's inside you before you can even ask him for it. Chan knows he's purely average-sized on Levanter, but here, on Earth, he has a monster cock. When he bottoms out inside you, listening to your pretty sounds and the way your face contorts so delightfully, he can already see the shadow of his cock bulging through your stomach. He runs his hand over it, pressing a little where it's most prominent, and you throw your head back. "Look at this, pretty girl." Chan reaches up to take your chin again, tilting your head so you can see the bulge. "So beautiful," he mumbles to himself, shallowly thrusting.

As his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder, he leans forward, kissing you, but in the overwhelming pleasure neither Chan nor you can keep your lips attached, mouths parted open instead as you near your highs.

"Chan, Chan, I'm gonna cum," you say. "Chan-" Then you're shaking violently, entire body tensed and head thrown back as an almost animalistic noise rips out of your throat.

Your walls squeeze tight around Chan, and his lips drop to press against your shoulder, muffling his groans as he thrusts one last time, much harder into you, and cum spurts out of him, coating the inside of you.

The two of you lie in silence for a few minutes, before Chan rolls off you and gets out of bed. "Where are you going?" you call after him, but he doesn't respond.

You sulk back into your sheets, annoyed. Twenty minutes later, the pretty alien returns wearing a new pair of pajama pants, and carrying with him a wet washcloth, bowl of ramen, and bottle of water.

"Chan . . ." you say quietly.

He sits down next to you, surveying your body. His cum is dripping out of you - shimmering blue. "Are you tired?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Wanna talk to you."

He smiles. "You eat and drink. I'll clean you up, and then we can talk, okay?"

You stare at him for a moment as he hands you the bowl of ramen and water, wondering how he could possibly be real. That pretty smile with those gorgeous dimples, on the same body as those perfect abs and massive dick - not to mention the fact that twenty minutes ago, he was railing you into your next life, and now he's sitting in front of you like he's your babysitter.

"I looked up a phrase, while I was making this," Chan mumbles as he runs the washcloth of your center, wiping up his cum off you and cleaning you up. "A word, actually." He folds the washcloth over so his cum is stuck inside and deposits it gently by your door, then returns to hand you what you can only imagine is one of the sweaters you got for him, since it's not one of yours. He goes to your closet, and gets out a fresh pair of panties. You reach to take them from him, but he shakes his head, sliding them onto your legs and up until your thighs. "Hips up, sweetheart," he says, concentrated. You do as he asks, and he finishes putting your panties back on.

"What word?" you ask, watching him crawl back over you to get into bed.

"L-O-V-E. How do you say it?"

"Love." You look over at him. "You don't know that word?"

He shakes his head. "It's not something we have a name for on Levanter. I guess people there tend to not care as much. I like the word though."

"Why did you want to know it?"

"Because I think it applies here. To me, at least. For you."

You turn over to face Chan. "What do you mean?"

"I love you." You can tell he's blushing, and you giggle when he asks, "That's how you say it, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. Yeah. Good. I mean, Y/N, I know I've only been here for, what, two weeks? But, I don't know. Everyday I just . . . I want to spend more time with you. And get to know you, and make you food, and give you kisses, and, I don't know, raise kids with you, and buy a house together. Never go back to Levanter. I want to just . . . stay here."

You want to cry, all of a sudden. "You wanna stay here? On Earth?"

Chan takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and rubbing his thumb over your own. "Yeah. If you'd have me, I think."

"Chan, what about your parents, your sister? Your friends? Felix?."

He looks down. "Felix is coming to find me. I'll have a chance to say goodbye. Y/N, nothing is honestly that important to me but you right now."

You quiet your voice, and ask again, "You really want to stay on Earth?"

"Yes. But, look, that doesn't mean we have to stay. There's a whole world out there, love. We could always visit Levanter - or if you didn't want to go I could go by myself."

"Your ship is still broken though."

Chan's eyes are glued to your wall.

"Right?"

"My ship has been fixed for three days," he mumbles. "I just . . . didn't want to leave. Like I said, I think I'm in love with you."

"I love you too, Chan."

The two of you sit in silence for a little longer, and you nestle close to Chan, tucking yourself into his chest as his arms wrap around you.

"So," you ask, looking up at him. "Do people on Earth kiss differently than people on Levanter?"

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ IN MY HEAD. felix yongbok lee

🎧 : felix lee x female reader

TROPE. zombie apocalypse au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 6.2k

WARNINGS. mentions of suicide, death

SYNOPSIS. after her grandfather's death, y/n is once again alone in the world. that is, until she meets larry - and shortly after, three boys that quickly become more like family to her than any blood related bonds she'd ever had. among these boys, one stands out to her: a certain deep-voiced australian with blue hair.

SMUT WARNINGS. unprotected sex, bicep biting (is that a warning), dom(ish)!felix, sub!reader, hickeys, use of pet names (darling, love, pretty, etc.), oral sex (female receiving), fingering

In art, there are so many things that can go wrong, but they never truly go wrong. Putting the wrong color somewhere, or making a stroke where it shouldn't be - that's a form of artistic genius. A slash of red cutting through a barren white landscape is a symbolism, not something ugly and never the work of a poor artist. No, it is beauty, life and nature in its truest forms.

Sadly, my life and art are two very different things. Because everything that could go wrong in my life has gone wrong. And my life is absolute shit.

It started off when I was eleven, when my dad shot himself right in front of me. Then again when I was fifteen, and my mom took my brother and left in the middle of the night, leaving me in the care of my not-so-caring grandparents. Barely four years later, and now I'm here. In the middle of the desert with one of those not-so-caring grandparents, watching as he slowly dies.

My grandmother croaked a long time ago - she had lung problems anyways. My grandfather has put up a good fight. But, sadly, when you're ninety-seven years old, the apocalypse is hard to survive.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn't bring myself to. I had wasted too many tears already over my fallen family members, and I couldn't afford to with him. Not when he had spent so many years tormenting me, starving me, banning me from the outside world. Which is why I should have died months ago.

I had no experience whatsoever in survival. I'd never gone camping, never even spent a night out of my house before. So, when I found myself able to make a campfire within a half hour of beginning to try, I realized that I had more luck than I could imagine, when I had thought myself unlucky my entire life.

I pondered this, whirling the knife I had found in a random army surplus store between my fingers as I watched my last surviving family member taking his last breaths before me.

He didn't want to speak to me, and I knew he wouldn't. So it surprised me when my grandfather whispered my name. His voice was dry and cracked, and he weakly lifted his hand to point at the pistol laying with my bag a few feet away from him.

He wants to kill himself, I realized. He wants to just end it here, and leave me alone. Not that I was complaining. He was slowing me down anyways.

I stood, and tossed him the gun. "Wait till I'm a ways away. I'm leaving."

I didn't say goodbye. He said nothing either as I gathered my few belongings together and kicked the fire that had been going, getting its last few flames to die down and fade into the night.

"Please understand," was the last thing my grandfather said to me as I began my walk away.

I didn't turn around. I couldn't. Because I knew that if I did, I would already be looking at a fresh corpse.

Two weeks and four days after my grandfather's death, I am still alone.

Well, not entirely alone. Somewhere into the first week without him, I stumbled across a stray dog. Its ribs were poking into its skin, and it was too weak to even stand. I was going to shoot it, to put it out of its misery. But I just couldn't bring myself to.

I ended up staying with the dog for hours, feeding him what little food I had left in my bag and talking to him, then carrying him to somewhere we could shelter for the night when it began to get to dark. Miraculously, the dog had survived. I named him Larry.

Larry hardly leaves my side now. He hunts with me, attacks zombies (he's a fearless little dude), and barks when he senses something's wrong.

Which is what he's doing right now.

I look around, fully alert for what might come barreling out of the darkness surrounding us at any moment. My bow (that army surplus store was crazy loaded) sat on the ground next to me, and I picked it up, knocking an arrow.

"Shh, Larry." I gently touch the dog's nose, and he stops barking, instead keeping his hackles raised and baring his teeth into the night.

Instead of zombies - what I was expecting to emerge - three boys trudge into the light, leaning on each other for support. The one in the middle is heavily wounded. Just by glancing at him I can see blood seeping through an open wound on his stomach, which is bare of clothing. In fact, all three boys are shirtless. It would be a welcome sight if not for the fact that they all looked like they were about to pass out from exhaustion.

Nonetheless, I raise my bow, drawing the arrow back and pointing it at each of the boys in turn.

"Please," the one on the left says. "We need help. Please."

"Were you bitten?" I demand, keeping the corner of my eye on Larry, who looks like he's about to go feral at any moment.

"No. Look- we need some fucking help," the boy on the left snaps. His face then softens. "Please. He's dying." He motions his head slightly at the boy in the middle, who, as if on cue, collapses into him.

I don't know what it was, but something about me trusted these boys. Which is ridiculous, I know, seeing as this is an apocalypse and they literally just walked out of the abyss, but I want to know who they are.

Plus, I'm sick of being alone.

"I don't have many supplies," I say.

The left boy, who seems to be the spokesperson for the other two, takes this as my sign to come sit, and he and the boy on the right drag their other friend towards where I stand.

"Anything to stop the bleeding," the boy on the right says softly.

"What's his name?" I ask neither of them in particular, but they both answer the same thing. Seungmin.

I nod, reaching into my bag. That damn army surplus store had everything, because I'm able to pull out a roll of gauze and my bottle of water out of my bag, along with a salt shaker that I picked up somewhere. I dump most of the salt into my water bottle, and lean over Seungmin so that he can see my face.

"Hi, Seungmin. My name's Y/N. I'm gonna help you, okay?"

Seungmin nods slightly, sucking in sharply at the movement.

Gently, I pour the saline solution over the wound on Seungmin's stomach. He hisses in pain, and the boy who had been on the right wrings his hands together. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"I know enough," I say.

"That's really fucking reassuring," Seungmin grunts from below me.

I now press the gauze down on the wound, earning a curse from the wounded boy, and turn to the other two. "Do either of you have a cloth or something I could wrap around this?"

Both of the other boys scrambled to open their bags.

"Here." The boy on the right says, tossing a maroon T-shirt at me. It was damp, but not fully wet, so it would be fine over the gauze. "We both used our shirts to stop the bleeding before," the boy then continues to explain.

Ah. That explains why they're shirtless.

I wrap the shirt tightly around Seungmin's abdomen, and he winces in pain as I do so.

"That's the best I can do until I have better supplies. I can look when it's light out. He'll be okay for now, though," I tell his friends, who both let out breaths of relief.

"Thank you." The boy on the right says, and I can now get a better look at all them.

The boy who just spoke is the tallest. His hair is sweaty, but a dark brown color, and he has pretty features.

The right boy, however, is the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He has freckles dancing across his cheeks, and dyed blue hair that falls nicely around his face. As I drag my eyes up and down his body, I note his toned muscles and nice physique. And, even in the apocalypse, he has earrings in.

I peel my eyes back towards the fire, realizing I've been staring.

The three of us sit in silence for a while, looking at the fire between us. Larry has calmed down now - presently, he's lying next to Seungmin, with his head resting on the injured boy's thighs. Seungmin himself is asleep, covered by a combination of my jacket and a bundle of newspapers that one of the other boys found in his pack, for whatever reason.

It takes me a while to talk to either of them just sitting there, watching the flames arabesque into the air and die moments after.

"What's your name?" I finally ask to neither of them in particular. The boy on the left was the one who answered, as expected.

"Minho," he says. "Lee Minho is my name. This is Lee Felix."

"Brothers?"

Minho shook his head. "Close enough to be though."

"How'd you guys meet?" I couldn't help but be curious about the three of them - and why they had stumbled across me of all people.

Minho sighed. "Chan."

"Who?"

"Chan. He brought us all together."

"We started with eight," Felix tells me, and I notice his Australian accent. I must have missed it before. "Now it's just us." He looks down at the ground.

"Five of you are-" I start, but Minho cuts me off.

"Dead, yeah. Hyunjin died first, then Changbin. Chan died around two weeks ago, and Jeongin right after him. We tried to save Jisung . . ."

"He died yesterday," Felix says softly. "Same attack Seungmin got hurt in." His jaw is tense as he speaks, and I can tell it's a touchy subject for both of them. "What about you?" His face softens a little as he looks up at me, and I shrug.

"My grandparents. My dad died when I was a kid, and my mom left me, so they're who I was living with when this whole thing happened. My grandmother died a few days in. My grandfather died almost three weeks ago."

"I'm sorry," Felix says, and I suddenly feel bad for not saying I was sorry about his friends.

"Don't be. They starved me, hit me. You know, fun stuff."

"I'm sorry," Felix repeats, softly this time.

"Tell me about them."

Minho and Felix both look at me. Minho's eyes are red, like he's holding back tears, but not doing a good job of hiding it.

"Your friends, I mean. Unless you don't want to-"

"No, yeah." Felix glances over at Minho, who just looks around a little, as if indicating he didn't want to talk. "Chan, the guy who brought us all together, he was an Aussie. Like me." He smiles a little, but it fades just as soon as it begins. He has a pretty smile. "He liked music. A lot. Had two little siblings before. Then, uh, Changbin. He was really fucking short. He got up to work out every morning too. God, he was so annoying about working out."

I find myself smiling a little, and laughing quietly along with Felix as he tells me about his old friends. Minho looks a little better, even looking up when Felix started talking about Jisung.

"He and Minho were really close," Felix finishes with, eyes flitting over to Minho, who smiles sadly.

Sensing that the topic was over, Felix then turns and scratches Larry behind his ear. "How'd you find him?"

I tell them the story of Larry. They laugh at his name. I smile. This cycle continues for most of the night, sharing stories and laughter that gets increasingly louder into the early hours of the morning, before Minho announces that we should get at least a few hours of sleep before traveling the next day. It was as if an unspoken agreement had passed between us - we would travel together from now on.

"Are you cold?" Felix asks me, glancing down at my jacket over Seungmin. I didn't mind giving it to him, but it did leave me in only a tank top and a pair of shorts. Nonetheless, I shook my head.

"The fire's still going, I'm fine."

Felix shakes his head. "Come here, we can all keep each other warm."

"Really, I'm fine." As inviting as his tanned chest is for me to curl up against, I insist on staying on the opposite side of the fire.

"Y/N."

"He's really fucking stubborn," Minho says as he lies down. "Just do it."

"Are you sure? I don't wanna make you uncomf-"

Felix rolls his eyes. "I can promise you, I'm not and I won't be. Come here."

"What if you guys are fucking psycho, and you kill me in the middle of the night or something?"

"I could kill you just as easily next to me as I could two feet away from you," Felix says. "You're actually less likely to die if you come over here. Cause like, you could freeze."

Finally, I give in, and make my way over to Felix, who smiles at me as I lie next to him.

"Are you gonna punch me if I put my arms around you?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take those odds."

I feel his arms wrap around my waist, and the front of his body presses against the back of mine, molding me against him. He's right - I'm a lot warmer with him. His face rests against the back of my neck, and I move my hair so that it's not in his face.

"You can keep it there if you'd like," he says quietly.

"Lix, why aren't you cuddling me?" I hear Minho complain from the other side of him.

"Cause you have a full fucking jacket with you, Minho. I'm not cuddling her, we're staying warm." Felix doesn't speak loudly, his low voice tickling against my bare shoulder blade. "Are you comfortable?" He then asks me, shifting his grip around my waist.

"Yeah, it's fine," I tell him, not wanting to admit that I never want to leave his embrace.

The next morning, Felix and I get up to go find more in-depth medical supplies for Seungmin, while Minho waits with Seungmin at the campsite. Larry waits with them, having found a newfound love for the latter of the two, who he now refuses to leave the side of. So much for loyalty, but I don't really mind.

As we searched, Felix and I got to know each other better. He was nineteen years old, and I was eighteen. He had been a hip-hop dancer, and I had been a volleyball player. His lifelong dream had been to open a cafe in Seoul, where he could visit Chan, who was to become a producer for JYP Entertainment there, every day.

I felt bad for him. Within the span of a couple months, Felix had lost everyone in his life - his parents, his two sisters, five of his best friends, along with any shot he had at achieving that dream of his.

"I like baking," he had explained to me when talking about the cafe. Then, letting out a breathy laugh, he said, "I'll make you some of my world-famous brownies when we get somewhere safe. They're so good, zombies would probably try to eat them instead of us."

I shook my head at that, but smiled to myself anyways.

We kept at that for a few hours, until we were sure we had found enough supplies to take care of him. We went back to the camp, and treated him.

In fact, this is how the next few months looked. Taking turns finding supplies, getting to know each other better, Seungmin healing, and building more of a home than a camp in that abandoned warehouse that I had first expected to only stay a night in.

The warehouse, we figured out, had been used to make candy before, so there were tons of boxes of candy that had been stacked against one wall and abandoned. Other than that, the warehouse and the room overlooking it were empty.

All four of us (plus Larry) had created a makeshift shared bedroom in the overlooking room. Since the first night, I slept with Felix's chest pressed against my back and his arms looped around my waist almost every night, so there were only three beds - really only mattresses with random blankets on them - in the room.

Felix and I have also gotten much closer lately. In fact, all of us have. Seungmin, who is now fully recovered, Minho, Felix, (Larry), and I have become sort of a group, I guess you could call it.

Which is why I was surprised when I heard Minho and Felix talking one day, coming back from looking for supplies with Seungmin. I started to say something to him as I walked up the stairs, but he grabbed my shoulder, covering my mouth with his hand quickly. He let go of my shoulder, making a listen motion by tapping his ear.

"You should just say something," Minho was saying.

"And what, fuck up everything here? Things are great. We haven't been attacked in three days, she sleeps in bed with me every night, and-"

"It doesn't matter. If you have feelings, you shouldn't just keep them inside. Especially if you're sleeping in bed with her every night. That's actually fucked up if you don't tell her. She has no idea that someone who thinks about her - sexually - is sleeping with a dick next to her every night."

"That doesn't even make sense. Plus, I think she knows I have a dick."

"Maybe I chopped it off."

Seungmin rolled his eyes, and I choked back a giggle.

"Can you not?"

"I'm just saying. I just caught you jerking off and saying-" Minho is cut off by Larry, who runs over to the door and pushes it open at that very moment.

Seungmin quickly drops his hand from my mouth, and I straighten my back, as though we had just come up the stairs.

"You're back," Felix says.

Seungmin tosses our bag of supplies on the ground. "Matches, canned food, band-aids, and a few other things."

Minho nods, picking up a few of the supplies and starting to put them away.

"I'm gonna take a walk," I declare after a moment.

Minho looks up. "Do you want one of us to come with you?"

I shake my head. "I'm alright by myself. I won't be gone for long."

That's what I said. Little did I know, I would be gone for three hours. Then six.

It was almost dark out by the time Seungmin and Larry found me. I was lying in the middle of the road, a huge gash drawn diagonally across my abdomen.

I was out cold when he laid me down on mine and Felix's bed, and I didn't wake up until three days later.

When I did, Felix was beside me. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, wringing his hands together. My shirt was pushed up so that my stomach was exposed. When I looked down, it was wrapped in a white bandage.

"Felix?" I say, my voice deep and raspy. I move to sit up and groan, my stomach throbbing.

He looks up, his face pinched, and sighs, his entire body visibly relaxing. "You're up. How do you feel?"

I throw my head back against my pillow, groaning. "Horrible. What happened?"

"Seungmin found you," he says. "There was so much blood, Y/N . . . We thought you might have been dead."

"I can't remember anything that happened. Was I bitten?"

"Not that we could find. Seungmin thought someone might have jumped you, or you just got hurt some other way."

"How long was I out?"

"Three days. You needed the rest."

"How long have you been there?"

"Also three days."

I close my eyes. "Seungmin? Minho?"

"They're getting supplies. They sit with you whenever they're here. They just left though, it'll be a few hours before they're back. How bad does it hurt?"

I shake my head. "Too much. I can move though. I'll be okay."

We were both quiet for a little while.

Then, with a sudden surge of confidence, I say, "I heard you and Minho talking."

"What?"

"Before I went on the walk. Before Seungmin and I walked in."

"What did you hear us talking about?"

I stay quiet. Do I really want to let Felix know that I heard him and Minho talking about him jerking off?

"Oh." Felix sighs, and I finally open my eyes to look at him. His hair is held in a half-up, half-down that suits him well. He looks hot. "That's what you heard."

I nod. "Felix, do you really think about me? When you . . . you know."

"Touch myself?"

I swallow hard. "Yeah."

"I think about you all the time," he says, dark eyes boring into my face. "I'm obsessed with you."

"But you think about me like that?"

"Like what? Like I wanna fuck you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Obviously. I wouldn't be moaning your name while I came if I didn't."

"Jesus, Lix, can you not be so blunt?"

"You were the one who asked." He shrugs. "You already heard me talking about it anyways."

"And Minho knows?"

He nods.

"Seungmin?"

Felix nods again.

"Do you want to fuck me now?"

"What happened to not being so blunt?" He laughs.

"Answer."

"Yeah, I do."

I stare at him for a moment. "You really do?"

He's shy all of a sudden. "Yeah."

"Fuck me then."

"You're hurt."

"I feel fine."

"You just said you felt horrible."

"Felix." I reach out, grabbing his hand. "I feel great. I just want you to touch me."

"Yeah?" The shyness fades, and I can see his eyes glint. "You really want me to?"

I nod.

Felix stands so that he's hovering next to me. "You're so pretty," he says quietly, leaning in towards me. He pauses, lips just inches away from mine. "But you're hurt."

"Felix," I say, reaching for his lips, but he pushes me gently back down against the mattress.

"I know, love. Soon."

I roll my eyes at him. "What happened to being obsessed with me?"

"I am." His thumb is tracing across my lower lip, applying the slightest bit of pressure so that it moves a little as he does. "I also don't want you to get even more hurt."

I sigh. "You're probably right."

"I am."

"Why are you so fucking cocky?"

He shrugs. "Do you want anything to eat? I bet you're hungry."

I nod. "I can get it. Can you help me up?"

"Of course," he says. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just stand there so I can hold onto you." I carefully stand, gripping Felix's left bicep as I do so, keeping myself from tipping over.

"You lost a lot of blood," Felix tells me. "That's why you're so dizzy."

"Oh," is all I respond with, too concentrated to really care.

I stumble a little, and Felix's arm shoots out to catch me, looping around my waist.

"I got it. Get off me."

"I think you should lie back down," he says gently. "Just rest a little longer. I'll get you something." He helps me back down on the makeshift bed, and crosses the room to get an apple for me.

He holds it out to me, but I'm already asleep again by the time he's back.

It has now been six months since my injury. I'm fully healed, and back in action. The boys still don't like me going outside by myself, so one of them comes with me everywhere I go.

It's annoying sometimes, but sometimes it's also endearing. The four of us have become a sort of makeshift family, relying on Minho as the mom, Seungmin like a little brother, and Felix . . .

I still want him to rail me into oblivion.

Since that first day that I woke up, neither of us have said anything about that conversation. His hair is different now after growing out some, still vibrant blue, just the roots are now black. It's a good look on him.

Presently, it's early in the morning. Minho and I are sitting at the door to the warehouse, waiting for any sign that Felix, Seungmin, and Larry are back.

Minho holds a baseball bat at his side, nails driven through one end so spikes stick out from all sides. I turn a knife over in my hand nervously, waiting.

"It's three a.m.," Minho states, looking at his watch. "They've officially been gone for twelve hours."

"They're not dead," I say forcefully. "They probably just found a horde or something and had to go the long way."

"The long way doesn't take twelve hours to go around."

"Can you not be so fucking negative?" I turn to Minho, glaring at him.

"Y/N." He says my name calmly, like an adult would to a little kid. "Do you want to go rest? I can wake you up when they're back."

I shake my head. "Do you want to rest? You look like shit, Min."

He shakes his head too. "I'll sleep when they're back."

It's another hour before we finally hear something at the door. Minho has been drifting asleep, but shoots awake when he hears.

Seungmin is yelling outside, banging on the door. "LET US THE FUCK IN YOU MOTHER FUCKERS."

I jump up, holding up my knife, and Minho opens the door quickly. Felix, Seungmin, and Larry all burst through the door. Seungmin catapults to the ground, where he sits breathing heavily. Felix launches into my arms, throwing himself around me and knocking both of us to the ground.

"Fuck," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck. Felix's hand covered the back of my head when we fell, so the damage is minimal, but it still hurts a little.

As they do this, Minho slams the door shut again. "How many fucking zombies did you guys attract?"

Neither boy answers for a minute. Seungmin lies on the ground, eyes closed, and Felix keeps himself practically attached to me, face buried in the crook of my neck. Finally, he pries himself off me onto the ground next to me and says, "We went a little further out of the city than we expected. Got caught in a freak storm and went the wrong way for a couple hours. Then we turned around, and attracted half the zombies within a ten-mile radius right here."

Minho looks like he wants to hit him. "You what?"

"We had nothing else to do," Seungmin says. "We tried losing them. We tried killing them. Felix is exaggerating, there's probably only twenty or thirty of them out there."

"Twenty or thirty zombies is enough to kill us easy," I point out.

"You're so helpful, thank you Y/N."

"So what do we do now?" Felix asks.

"We have to wait it out." Minho sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Until they leave, or something distracts them."

I groan. "That could take days."

"Then we wait for days. I would rather sit in here and be bored than be out there and get eaten alive."

"We should take watches," Seungmin tells us. "Two at a time. We can keep each other awake."

"Seungmin, Lix, you guys should go sleep first." I look over at the two of them. "You've been out and about for a while."

"I'm fine," Seungmin says. "Felix stayed awake while I rested during the storm when we took shelter. I'll stay down here. Which of you guys wants to rest?"

"You go," I tell Minho.

He rolls his eyes. "I drank so much coffee earlier, I wouldn't be able to sleep if I tried."

We argued back and forth for a minute, but finally, I gave in, and followed Felix up the stairs to the bedroom.

"Let me fix your cuts first." I hold out the first aid kit to Felix, who takes it from me and sets it on the floor.

I set to work on his body first, having him take his shirt off so that I can clean and bandage the wounds on his back and stomach.

"Hey, Y/N," he says as I'm covering one of his shoulder blades with a bandage. "Where'd all of your scars come from?"

"What?"

"A while ago, when you were injured. I, uh, I took off your shirt, to check for bite marks. Your back had so many scars."

"They're all from different things."

"Like what?"

"My family."

He's quiet for a minute, so I break the silence.

"Where'd you get this?" I trace one of my fingers over a scar that reaches from the back of his neck to the middle of his back. It was faint, and you could have missed it if you weren't looking carefully.

He shivers a little as my hand follows the scar, and I relish in the motion. "Don't know the guy who gave it to me," he says after a minute. "Jumped me in an alleyway when I was nine. Killed my sister, and did that to me."

"I'm so sorry, Lix."

He turns, catching my hands in his as I try to apologize further. "Don't be. It was a long time ago. It's okay. Plus, it looks cool right? I'm a total badass."

I laugh. "A total badass who's scared of cockroaches."

"They're fucking creepy." Felix makes eye contact with me, tilting his head a little. "Can I kiss you?"

"What, are cockroaches turning you on?"

"Shut up, Y/N," he mumbles, lips connecting with mine.

His body molds against mine almost perfectly. He pushes me backwards, sitting up so that he's kneeling over me while I sit up on my elbows, lips staying together the entire time.

It doesn't take long for him to break the kiss, scrambling to pull of his shirt. I grab his wrist as he does so, stopping him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna fuck you."

I pause. "You're hurt."

He tongues the inside of his cheek, looking down at me through half-lidded eyes. "I'm definitely not hurt as bad as you were."

"Yeah, well-"

He cuts me off, covering my mouth with his hand. His fingers grip my chin a little as he does so, and he finishes pulling off his shirt with the other hand. He then pauses himself. "Can I fuck you?"

"Since you asked so nicely . . ."

Felix wastes no time in kissing me again. I reach up, feeling up his abs and outlining them with my fingers.

He shivers, and I relish in the fact that it's me who's making him feel like this.

Felix moves to my neck, sucking hickeys into my skin, and I moan out loud. He covers my mouth with his hand, pausing his ministrations to make eye contact with me. "We need to be quiet."

I pause. "What if they hear?"

"They won't. We'll just be quiet." He moves his hand, leaning down to kiss me again, one hand fumbling with getting my shorts down.

I help him slide them off, gasping when he uses his thumb to wipe a stripe up my lower lips.

Felix hums, moving his face away from mine to watch my expression change. "I keep imagining the pretty sounds you make, but I had no idea it'd be like that."

"You like it?" I manage out, holding onto the arm thats gently touching me.

"I don't think I could ever get tired of hearing you." Suddenly his finger is inside me. His. Finger. Is. Inside. Me.

"Oh fuck," I say softly, jolting forward and holding his arm harder. "Fuck, Felix."

"I haven'y even started yet, love, and you're already a mess."

I look up at him. He's watching me with lidded eyes, taking in every contortion of my face, every breathy moan that slips through my lips.

I find my hips grinding against his hand, searching for anything other than his stilled finger. Slowly, he pushes in further, continuing to scan my face for my reaction. When he's finally knuckle-deep, he curls his finger, scraping against the walls of my core. I gasp again at the sensation, leaning my head back. "Felix," I choke out.

"Hmm?"

"Please fucking do something."

He smiles, his finger leaving me and shooting back in. I groan, lips parted as I watch his own face. He finger fucks me, leaning down so that he's close to my cunt, watching his finger move in and out.

"Can I taste you?" he mumbles, kissing lightly along the inside of my thigh.

"Yes, please, fuck," you mutter incoherently. I feel his lips close around my clit, sucking lightly as he continues to move his finger in and out, adding another one. His tongue darts out, circling my clit and pressing lightly on it.

He hums against me. "So sweet. Never wanna stop."

You breathe shakily in response, feeling your imminent high incoming. "I'm-I'm gonna-" I don't even get out the rest of the words before I'm spasming around his fingers, throwing my head back and moaning. His fingers leave my core, one hand flattening my hips back against the mattress and the other reaching up to cover my mouth. His own lips still don't leave my clit, sucking and licking.

"One more, love," he says. "Give me one more."

Maybe three minutes later, I'm cumming again, just as hard as before.

After the second orgasm caused by his tongue, I push Felix's head away, groaning as he leaves little kisses along my legs, then moves back up to my lips. I can taste myself on him - he's right. I do taste sweet.

Felix looks like he's painfully hard, cock straining against his cargo pants. Felix finally rids me of my top, which is followed by the removal of his own pair of pants. We're now fully exposed to each other, and we pause, taking a moment to admire the other's beautiful body.

"Fuck me," I mutter softly.

"You look fucked out, love. Want me to stop here?"

"If you stop right now I'll feed you to the zombies outside."

He laughs, a rumbling chuckle. "Suit yourself, darling." Before I can even respond, he's pushing into me, all the way to the base, where his pelvis meets mine.

We both moan out, and he buries his face into my neck, kissing it gently. "You feel so good. Addictive."

I need my mouth around something - anything. I think I might actually die if I don't get something in my mouth. Before I can even think straight, my teeth are closing over Felix's toned bicep, biting down hard.

He groans, and I can't tell if it's from pain or pleasure. Either way, he's moving now, thrusting lightly into me, as if afraid I might break. Then, suddenly, he's switching it up, going hard and fast. My arms reach around him and I let my hands trail down his back, fingernails digging into his skin. It's not long before he begins to falter, and his grip on my hips tighten. He groans into my neck, murmuring something nonsensical about cumming.

"Do it inside," I say, breathing hard. "Inside, inside."

"Y/N-"

"Felix, I'm gonna cum again." My hips shoot up against his, and I throw my head back. Suddenly I'm orgasming hard, as though a freight train has slammed headfirst into me. My walls are fluttering around Felix, and I hear him muttering something before I feel him cum too, his seed spilling out inside of me.

Felix collapses on top of me, holding me close. We stay like that for a moment, breathing deeply and trying to slow our heart rates before he pulls out of me and rolls off to lie next to me.

Felix smiles, fingers playing with my hair. I turn onto my side, wincing as my pelvis presses into the mattress. I glance down, and notice two purple-shaded hand prints pressed into my skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles against my cheek, arms tightening around me.

"I like them. They're pretty."

"You think so?"

I hum yes, eyes closed.

"Maybe I should leave them more often. It's not like you didn't mark me up plenty."

I open my eyes to find that he's sat up, turning around. His back is covered in scratches from what I can only assume are my fingernails, and when he turns to show me his bicep, I can see cuts where my teeth broke the skin.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, feeling bad.

He shakes his head, repeating the words you said earlier. "I like them. They're pretty."

"Maybe I should leave them more often," you say, repeating his response.

"I'm so obsessed with you, Y/N."

"Yeah?"

"You're constantly in my head. I can't get you out." Felix turns to look at me. "But I don't know if I'd ever want to."

[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ PASS THE CROWN. hwang hyunjin

🎧 : hwang hyunjin x female reader

TROPE. royalty au, strangers to lovers au, fake dating au, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 6.3k

WARNINGS. mentions of death, mentions of war

SYNOPSIS. as she watches hyunjin promise his love to her sister, the future queen of levanter, y/n realizes how much she doesn't want to be in that position. except, as the forgotten sister, overshadowed by her sister's beauty, talent, and the power she holds over the kingdom, she is the farthest from it. just a short distance away, hyunjin is pronouncing his love for her sister, realizing at the same time that he is in love with not the heir to the throne, but the forgotten sister. as they run away together to escape their terrible fates, they reveal truths about each other and people they once knew that could cause rifts between entire kingdoms.

SMUT WARNINGS. oral sex (f recieving), unprotected sex, virgin!y/n, language, hickeys, (tiny?) moaning/voice kink

"What the hell are you doing?"

You look up as Nayeon stalks into your room, looking like she wants nothing more than to throw herself out the window.

"Painting. Do you like it?" You move aside so your sister can look the painting up and down, analyzing it.

"Are you depressed?"

"Hey! You don't like it?"

"No, it's really good." Nayeon tilts her head. "It's just a little . . . dark."

You turn back to the painting and tilt your head too, examining it as well. "I mean, that's the point. It doesn't mean I'm depressed though. Is there a reason you came in here?"

"Oh yeah. Do you want to come with me to get my dress fitted for next week?"

Oh right. Next week. Next week, Nayeon was to be crowned the Queen of Levanter. Her entire life, she had known of this, so it was no surprise that when she turned eighteen, our mother began preparing for her coronation. And now, that coronation was coming up. And I had the all-important job of sitting and watching while my sister gained control of our entire kingdom.

"Not really."

"Please, Y/N. I really want you to. I don't wanna go by myself. Miss Lee is taking my measurements - I'm scared of her." Nayeon whispers the last couple words, peering around as if Miss Lee would jump out of the shadows at any moment.

"And I'm seeing Hyunjin tonight," she added, looking at me.

Right. That too.

Hwang Hyunjin was the suitor that your sister had settled on to be the King of Levanter alongside her. She had chosen him out of eight, one of whom was your best friend, Seungmin.

You had always known that Seungmin was a candidate for your sister's future husband. Seeing as he was from District 9, a little ways outside of the city, he was a little rough around the edges and wasn't good at palace life, but you had taught him what you could before your sister's eighteenth birthday. Even in knowing Seungmin better than any of the other boys, your sister had still chosen Hyunjin over him.

Before that night, you had never met Hyunjin. You had met Jeongin once, when he came to the palace for the first time, and obviously you knew Seungmin, you two had known each other since you could get your bike all the way to District 9.

"Oh," is all I respond to Nayeon with.

"Do you want to come?"

"Why would I come?"

"Seungmin might come too, so I thought we could maybe . . ." your sister trails off, as if unsure of what she was thinking.

"I'll just stay here," you say.

Nayeon turns to leave, nodding solemnly. As she opens the door, she turns back, looking upset. "Why don't you like him?"

"I never said I didn't like him."

"Why are you acting like you don't like him?"

"I just thought you might pick Seungmin."

"Why? Aren't you two a thing?"

You stare at Nayeon, appalled. "What?"

"Please. I saw you guys making out literally last month."

You sigh, remembering. The two of you were sitting in your room, analyzing his most recent painting next to yours. When he leaned over you to point something out, you made eye contact, and the rest was history. His lips were soft. Full. He was pretty. Seungmin had always been pretty.

The next morning, you woke up with his arms around you. And you loved it, of course. Who wouldn't love the muscular arms of a hot, tall guy around them? But it just felt wrong. Seungmin was your best friend - but he wasn't anything more.

Did you feel like this because for your whole life, you had assumed he would marry Nayeon? Maybe. Did you feel like this because you had just always been friends? Also maybe.

"One time thing," you say, brushing it off with ease. You meant what you said - you and Seungmin kissing (and more) had been something that you would only let happen once, and was a spur of the moment thing.

Nayeon raises her eyebrows at you, but didn't press you any more. Instead, she said, "I really want you to just come talk to Hyunjin. He's pretty cool."

"Nayeon, you're about to marry this man, and all you can say about him is that he's 'pretty cool'?"

"Well I haven't talked to him that much. Duh." Nayeon rolls her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Then, she turns seriously to you. "As future queen, I order you to come with me."

"Are you kidding?"

"No."

You groan and lean your head against the back of your chair. "Okay."

"Really?"

"You just ordered me, asshole."

Nayeon waves you off. "Wear something pretty."

You look down at your current attire - a white blouse with paint all over it and a pair of black pants - then back up at your sister. "I'm not always pretty?"

She pushes your arm, grinning, and shakes her head before leaving you to your artwork.

You frown at the painting, standing and moving across the room to look out the window at the view you hadn't told your sister you were painting.

In your world, the palace grounds were bright and sunny, full of people. You could see your mother in the distance, floating elegantly along as she supervised the gardeners.

In the world of your painting, there was dark lines all over it, covering up the beautiful landscape with a dull, gray layer. You had faintly drawn in the lines of swirling black tentacles reaching from the sky when Nayeon had come in.

Both expressed the ups and downs of your life as the "forgotten princess", as the village newspaper liked to call you when you had some sort of scandal every five years or so.

You sigh, sitting on the ground and leaning your head on the windowsill to look up at the sky.

Seven hours later, you were sitting outside the entrance to the palace, leaning against the railing of the steps leading up to it. Nayeon had yet to make it outside, and you were gonna make sure she never heard the end of it.

Finally, she made her way out the front steps, draped in a pretty pink dress and a white shawl that hung effortlessly elegant over her shoulders.

"You're such a prick," you mutter as she walks up to you.

She waves you off as the carriage driver pulls up in front of the steps. "'Ello, Misses!" he says cheerily, smiling ear to ear.

"Hey, Tommy! How's Anne?" Nayeon calls, trudging forward and holding up her gown a little so as not to step on it.

You zone out the rest of their conversation, opening the door to the carriage. Sitting inside were two boys, across from each other. Seungmin is on your right, and the boy who you recognize as Hyunjin is on your left.

"Y/N!" Seungmin says, standing and offering you his hand to help you in. "Hyunjin, this is Y/N, Nayeon's sister."

"We've met," Hyunjin says, not taking his gaze off of you. "The other night, remember? At the party."

"Right," you say.

"Oh." Seungmin looks deterred for a moment, but the expression is instantaneously gone. "Well, whatever. Now you guys get to actually talk."

He's interrupted as my sister opens the door. She waves shyly at Hyunjin, who smiles a little and looks back at her.

They don't look like newly-engaged lovers, you think. They look like acquaintances who don't even remember the other's name.

"Hey, Seungmin," Nayeon says, beaming at your friend.

Seungmin smiles back. "Hey. Are you both ready? Hyunjin and I planned out a whole night for the four of us."

"You planned it together?" you ask, a little surprised.

"Yeah! Hyunjin and I are friends, you didn't know that? We used to dance together at the ballet."

Of course, you have absolutely no idea what he's talking about, but you nod anyways, turning across to Nayeon. "I guess we're in for a wild ride then."

Nayeon nods eagerly. "I wanna get wild before I become Queen. I bet you wanna do the same, Hyunjin. Before you're King."

And that's when you realize, Nayeon didn't love Hyunjin, she barely knew him. This I already knew. But she didn't even think of him as her husband - he was the King, and she was the Queen. They were not married in any sense but legally. They would both live their entire lives without knowing love.

"Y/N, are you listening?"

You glance up. All three of the other people in the carriage with you are peering over at you. Seungmin looks a little worried.

"You okay?" Nayeon asks, tilting her head.

"Yeah. Were you saying something?"

Seungmin shakes his head. "Just telling everyone where we're going first. But I guess it's a surprise for you."

You don't know how you ended up in this room. The last thing you remember is following your sister, Seungmin, and Hyunjin into the pub, and you don't remember anything following that.

You're in a bed, fully clothed and covered from head to toe in glitter. You hold up your hand, turning it over to see your palm is coated in the shimmering dust as well. "Fuck," you mumble, leaning your head back against the pillow.

You lie in bed for a few more minutes before standing up, deciding to investigate where you are. It's not fifteen seconds after you've stood and moved over to the window that Hyunjin walks out of a door to your left, wearing an unbuttoned white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks that fit him way too well.

"Hyunjin?" you ask, turning. "Do you know . . . ?" You trail off, hoping your appearance is enough to explain the question.

Hyunjin laughs, his eyes crinkling. "This is my house. Nayeon and I agreed it would be best if you didn't walk into the palace at three am looking like a walking disco ball, and District 9 was too far, so I brought you back here."

"Seungmin went home?"

"Not even an hour ago. He was worried about you. We all were, honestly. You disappeared for like, six hours and came back looking like that." Hyunjin rakes his eyes up and down my figure, taking in my sparkly new look.

"I think I'm rocking it, personally," you say, nodding seriously.

Hyunjin laughs. "Do you want to shower? I just finished mine, so the bathroom's all yours." He ruffles his hand through his hair, and you notice the water dripping off the ends.

"Yeah, can I?"

"Of course." Hyunjin moves over so you can go into his bathroom.

You step by him, and shower as quickly as you can after closing the door. When you come out, Hyunjin is sitting on his bed, scribbling in some kind of journal.

"Did you see the clothes I set out for you?" he asks without looking up.

"Yeah. Thank you so much." The shirt he had put out was too big, and shorts were the same story, but the thought was nice.

"Sorry I didn't have any of what you're used to. You know, pretty blouses and dresses and stuff."

"No." You shake your head quickly. "This is great. Are these yours?"

Hyunjin nods, finally setting down his journal face down beside him. "I don't have any sisters or anything, so I don't have any women's clothes."

"Mom?"

He licks his lips. "Died three years ago."

"Oh," is all you can say. Then you find your tongue. "I'm sorry."

You sit down on the other side of his bed, running your fingers through your damp hair. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes.

"Is it hard?" Hyunjin finally asks, looking over at you.

"What?"

"Being royalty. It can't be easy. You're constantly under watch, scrutiny, pressure."

You shrug. "You get used to it."

"Yeah but-" Hyunjin leans closer to you, lips pressed into a slight pout "-Y/N. I don't want to live like that."

"Why did you volunteer to become King then?"

"My dad is sick," he says. "I need money, I need power. The treatment he needs - it's not something I'll be able to afford with a life like this. I figured your family could help. But Y/N, I can't do it. I don't know how I'll survive."

"Why don't you talk about this with Nayeon? I bet she-"

"No," he says firmly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. "I can't. It's treason. It's my duty to become the King now." He groans, letting go of his hold on me and throwing himself back among his pillows. "Why am I even telling you this? It's treason to be telling you this. It's treason to have you here."

"It's not treason if the princess is saying it's okay." A lie. "Plus, it's not like anyone's gonna be looking for me or anything." Another lie. I was the forgotten princess, but I was still only one of two.

"Do you have any brothers, Y/N?"

"No . . ."

"Me neither. I've always wanted to know what it's like to have siblings. Even if your sister's the crown princess."

"She's only older by six minutes," you say quietly. "It was a fifty-fifty shot on which one of us it would have become. I'm glad it's her though."

"You do?"

You nod slowly. "I agree with you. Royal life is really fucking hard."

The two of you sit in silence for a few more minutes, letting all of the new information sink in.

"Y/N . . ." Hyunjin says carefully, almost as if talking to a scared puppy. "Would you ever want to leave that life?"

"What do you mean?"

"Run away. Never look back. Become someone totally new, totally different. You would never have to think about anything royal or crown princess-y ever again." Hyunjin's eyes are closed when you look at him.

"I've thought about it," you admit finally. His eyes open, and they meet yours.

"Would you?"

It's your turn to have your eyes closed. "I would."

"What if you came with me? I have a couple friends in the East, and they told me if I ever needed anything they would help me. We could go there, and get away from this. Your sister will be forced to find someone she actually wants to marry, you won't have to deal with the crown ever again." Hyunjin's voice is eager, but you still don't open your eyes.

Nonetheless, your answer is almost instant. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. When do we leave?"

"Um, now? Do you want to get anything from the palace?"

I think about my paintings, scattered across my bedroom. Memories of a life already far behind me. "No."

"Okay, then. Let's go, I guess. We can stop and get you clothes somewhere, and I'll bring a bag."

"Okay."

You're placid as Hyunjin hurries around the room, throwing random articles of clothing into his bag.

"We need a story," he says as he scrambles about, throwing a shirt at his bag and missing by a solid meter.

"We're two friends going to visit some more friends," I say. "It's pretty simple."

Hyunjin scoffs. "Nobody's gonna believe that. Plus, that means you're up for grabs."

"Sorry?"

"Up for grabs. Not by my definition, but everyone else's. Last night you were fine 'cause you were with Seungmin and I, but, you know . . . You really haven't been out of the palace much?"

You shrug. "Haven't had much time."

"It's okay. I'll show you what you've missed, Castle Girl."

It's a two day horseback ride from the capital of Levanter to Halazia, a city at the edge of Miroh, the neighboring kingdom. Through the entire ride, Hyunjin and you talk. You get to know each other in ways you realize he and your sister never would have.

You miss Nayeon, and you're sure she's worried about you. You're sure she's stirred the whole kingdom up into a frenzy searching for you, convinced herself that her fiancé is an evil killer that was only using her to get power, which was only half true.

Towards the end of the journey, the two of you are quiet as you make your way through the main section of Halazia. It's nothing like the thriving cities of Levanter - it looks like something out of one of your paintings. The buildings are broken down, gray, dull. There's no color except for a single dying rose planted in the window box of someone's house, and you shiver as you look at it.

"What happened here?" you ask Hyunjin quietly, wrapping yourself tighter in the shawl you bought at a roadside stand.

"Levanter isn't the only kingdom with troubles," he tells you. "Miroh is in the middle of a war right now. And Halazia is right in the middle."

"The middle? But it's on the border with . . ." You trail off. "Levanter and Miroh are at war?"

Hyunjin nods slowly, looking over at you. "It's not public knowledge. I assumed Nayeon would have told you though. She's at the head of most of the attacks."

"What?" You look around. "There's no one here. Nothing. Did they kill everyone?"

"Almost everyone."

"How are your friends still alive? Why are Miroh and Levanter fighting? Why doesn't anyone know?"

"The people in Miroh certainly know," Hyunjin points out. "Y/N, I know it's hard to wrap your head around, but rulers make difficult decisions. War isn't something easy to declare. There's reasons for both sides to be fighting - there's no good and evil."

You swallow thickly, still looking around.

"As for my friends, they're a special kind of crazy. That's why they're alive."

We finally reach the opposite outskirts of Halazia. The road abruptly ends in a tangled mess of thorny vines, and Hyunjin gets off his horse. You follow suit, climbing down and wandering after him, leading your horse into the woods.

You walk for maybe ten minutes before Hyunjin finds a huge tree, and knocks twice on one of the roots.

"What the fuck?" you whisper to him, careful not to disturb the quiet of the forest. "Are you some tree whisperer or something?"

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, then yells, "Wooyoung, hurry the fuck up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." All of a sudden, there are three boys above you, sitting in the branches of the thick tree.

"Jeez, Jinnie, can't you be a little more patient?" The boy on the left says, dropping down in front of us with cat-like motions.

"Y/N, this is Wooyoung, Mingi, and Hongjoong," Hyunjin says. "You remember Changbin? He introduced me to them."

You vaguely remember the boy he's talking about from Nayeon's bachelor dinner. He was shorter than the rest, and ate a shit ton, but he had been friendly and humorous when you talked to him.

"How is Binnie?" Wooyoung asks, breaking into a child-like grin.

"Put on some muscle since the last time we were here, but he's good."

"Really? Good for him." Wooyoung finally turns his attention to me. "Who's she?"

"This is Y/N."

"Y/N as in-"

"The princess of Levanter." Hyunjin looks at you. "Yeah, she is."

"Did you kidnap her or something?" Mingi asks, laughing.

"No, of course not, you creep. She wanted to come. I asked her, and she willingly joined me."

Hongjoong sighs. "We're not gonna have to kill her, right?"

"What the fuck?" you demand. "Hyunjin, I thought you said I could trust them."

"You can. Joong wants you here as much as I do." Hyunjin turns to look at the three boys. "On Halazia, I would trust Y/N with my life."

"On Halazia," Hongjoong repeats, touching his heart as well. They both reach their pointer and middle fingers out to the other and touch them together, then bring them back down. "You're both dead if you're wrong, Jinnie."

You sneak a glance over at your companion. You've known Hyunjin for not even a week, and his life is now in your hands. What if you betrayed these boys - and whatever their cause was - right now? Would they really kill Hyunjin?

"I know," is all Hyunjin responds with. "We're on the run from the royal family, can we stay here for a couple weeks?"

"Sure," Wooyoung says brightly. "It'll be nice to see someone other than the others for once. God, they're so annoying. Come on over, pretty girl, and I'll help you up."

Hyunjin steps in front of you, pretending to toss his hair. "Thanks for the compliment, pretty boy."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but helps Hyunjin up into the tree.

"Where exactly are we going?" you ask to no one in particular.

Mingi is the one that answers. "The city in the sky."

"Shut the fuck up," Wooyoung yells from above. "We have a treehouse!"

When Wooyoung said they had a treehouse, he didn't mean just any old treehouse that little kids played in. He meant it was a house, in the tree. You discovered quickly that there was a huge expanse of ladders, rope bridges, and platforms connecting open-air and wood-woven rooms together, creating, just as Mingi had said, a city in the sky.

"You guys will have to share a room," Hongjoong tells you and Hyunjin as he leads you along a rope bridge. "You can have the farthest one, just in case you guys get a little . . . loud."

Hyunjin laughs. "We might need it." He reaches over and laces his fingers with yours.

You're taken aback, and stare at him for a moment. You don't say anything until the two of you are out of earshot of the other boys, however. "What the fuck was that about?" you demand.

"You remember what I told you a few days ago, about the up for grabs thing?"

You nod slowly, realizing.

"It's the same thing with these guys. I love them, they're like my brothers, but they're touch-starved rebels in the middle of a hopeless war. There's nothing they'd rather do than fuck the daylights out of you."

"Can you not be so gross?" You wrinkle your nose at his snide comment.

"I'm just telling you the truth, Y/N."

"Can you make the truth sound a little less dark?"

"No."

It only takes you a few more minutes to get to the room Hongjoong pointed out for the two of you. It's resting almost at the top of the canopy, so you can see miles of forest stretching to the North and East. In the South is the city of Halazia, and in the West you can see the mountains that travel all the way through Miroh to Levanter from places too far West to even map.

"Pretty nice, huh? We can lie low here for a little bit, then figure out our next move. At some point, we're going to need to start making some kind of income if we're not planning on staying in Halazia forever."

You nod. "We can figure it out later. How many of your friends are here again?"

"There's eight."

"I thought you said you had a few friends here."

"Eight is a few. You met Hongjoong, Wooyoungie, and Mingi. There's also San, Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho, and Seonghwa. And then for the girls - they live on the ground not far from here - there's Yeji, Chaeryeong, Lia, Yuna, and Ryujin. I can introduce you to them tomorrow." Hyunjin sighs contentedly, sinking back into the bed.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

It's not long before you're relaxed into a pair of pajamas that Jongho brings up for you, and curled up next to Hyunjin, facing opposite directions.

"Do you mind if I hold you?" Hyunjin says, his voice quiet and hoarse as he turns over to whisper in your ear.

"Like what, spoon me?"

"Yeah. Holding something helps me sleep."

"Go ahead." You can't lie that you feel much more secure when Hyunjin turns over and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the back of your neck.

Just like that, you fall asleep to the sounds of him breathing softly, and the birds chirping outside the canopy room.

The next morning, you're awoken by the banging of pots and pans, yelling boys, and the cheerful noises of the forest.

"WANNA SEE HOW FUCKING FAST I CAN BEAT YOU UP, JONGHO? CAUSE I'LL THROW YOU DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS SO FAST."

"Good morning," you mumble sleepily, curling into Hyunjin, who lets his arms rest around you.

"They're not making it easy to sleep in, are they?" he says quietly, his voice deep and raspy.

You don't respond, snuggling into his chest. Right now, you don't really care that this is Hwang Hyunjin you're lying against - you just want someone warm next to you.

"I'm glad you came with me, Y/N," he tells you, almost a whisper.

"Me too."

"You know, I've known you for a lot longer than you've known me."

"What?" You're more awake now, and you open your eyes to look up at him.

"Yeah. My dad used to work in the kitchens. I went to work with him sometimes. I met Nayeon a couple times, actually, but I never met you. I saw you, though."

"How did you know it was me?"

"Who else would have the guts to run away from the head of the royal guard?"

You laugh, wrinkling your nose as you do so.

"You're so cute," Hyunjin says, poking your nose.

You scoff, nudging him off.

"Hey, lovebirds!" someone calls from outside the door to the room. "We made waffles!"

"We'll be down in a minute," Hyunjin says. "Thanks, Yunho." He sits up on one elbow and looks at me. "We're going to have to act like a couple."

"Are you really sure that they would-"

Hyunjin covers your mouth with his hand. "I'm sure. Even if they wouldn't try to do something with you, it's better not to take a chance, right?"

You nod. "So, what? Have you ever dated before?"

"Once. A while ago."

"Hyunjin, how old are you?"

"Nineteen. Why?"

You shrug. "I know a lot about you, I just don't know any of the basics."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. I think, at least. My birthday is probably soon."

"Today's the twenty-fourth."

"Oh. Then today's my birthday." You avert his gaze, instead focusing on the window.

"Happy birthday," Hyunjin says quietly, running one hand through my hair.

"What are you doing?" You ask, pulling away slightly.

"Getting into character, love."

Three weeks later, you and Hyunjin are settled into life with "Ateez", as they call themselves. You quickly come to realize that while the Ateez members are a weird group of guys, they're like family for each other, and you and Hyunjin have been officially recognized as part of that family. The five girls who live nearby visit on occasion, and you like them a lot. They ask a lot about you and Hyunjin, which is hard to answer, but you indulge in their girl talk.

It's late on the evening of the twenty-third night you and Hyunjin have been staying with the boys when something finally does happen, after weeks of calm.

You're walking back from the place Ryujin and Chaeryeong brought you for dinner - a pretty riverbank with soft grass where the three of you sat and talked for hours.

As you walk, crickets chirp and the sun falls below the horizon. When you finally reach the massive tree to get into the treehouse, you see Hyunjin ahead of you. He's sitting on the ground, his body outlined in silver moonlight.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey," you say, going over to sit next to him. "Is everything okay?"

"I want to tell you the truth."

Fuck. "Okay . . . what? Are you like, a psycho or something?"

Hyunjin looks at the ground. "I'm a rebel, if you will. I never wanted to marry your sister for money. My dad's been dead for thirteen years. I was going to marry her to kill her."

You stare at him. "What the fuck?"

"But listen, I couldn't have-"

You cut him off. "How did you know she would pick you?"

He takes a moment in answering. "I didn't. The eight of us, we were all in it."

"Seungmin?"

Hyunjin is silent, which is answer enough for you. You stand up, stepping away from him. "You were trying to kill my sister? Why the fuck would you tell me that?"

"Because I trust you, Y/N, and I hope you trust me enough to know that I never would have done it anyways. That's why we're here."

"We're not hiding from my family, we're hiding from your murdering friends?" you demand.

"No, they're not . . . they're not murderers." Hyunjin stands up, following you as you step away again. "You saw Halazia, Y/N, your family is doing horrible things to my country."

"Your country? You're from Miroh?"

Your back hits the trunk of a tree, and Hyunjin keeps coming towards you.

"Yes. Don't talk, I'm going to tell you everything. My real name is Hwang Hyunjin, whether you want to believe me or not. I was born in Miroh, but I moved to Levanter with my mom after my dad died. She left me when I was sixteen and moved in with her new boyfriend, Seungmin's father. They had similar stories, so Seungmin and I did too. He and I became friends, and eventually we decided to visit back here together. We found out what the royal family - what your family - has been doing to these people, and we wanted to put a stop to it. Those guys up there, those girls you were just with - we all have the same goal."

"To kill my family." You swallow hard, looking up at Hyunjin as he towers above you, keeping you pressed against the tree. "Including me."

Hyunjin is silent, and you know that's exactly his motive.

"Why don't you just do it, then? Fucking kill me." You spread your arms, giving him open access to your chest and your heart.

"No."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Y/N, I've made it pretty clear. I'm fucking in love with you. That's why Nayeon isn't dead, that's why you're here with me, that's why you woke up in my bed that morning."

"We had sex?" you ask quietly, eyes now glued to his.

"No." Hyunjin closes his eyes. "But I wish we had."

"Are you going to kill me, Hyunjin?"

"No, Y/N. I told you. I'm in love with you."

"Hyunjin?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you just fucking kiss me?"

It's as if a switch in him flips. Your even more against the tree now, Hyunjin's hands on your jaw, his lips on yours. He has soft lips. They're big and full and plump, and he knows how to kiss. He lifts his knee so that it's pressing into your crotch, and you lean your head back.

Hyunjin moves down to kiss your neck, sucking hard until deep purple bruises are tracing down your collarbones.

"You're so pretty," Hyunjin says quietly. "I've thought that since the day I met you at the party."

It feels like so long ago now, you think to yourself.

"Bed," is all you manage to get out of your mouth, completely breathless with every kiss he presses against your skin. "Bed, Hyunjin."

He shakes his head, moving up to kiss you again. "Too far. Fuck, Y/N, I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea. I can't wait one more second."

You start to protest, but he presses his knee even harder against you, and you moan softly into his mouth instead.

Hyunjin stops and looks at you, breathing a little quickly. "Holy fuck. That was the prettiest sound I've ever heard."

His lips are back on yours in no time, and you push him backwards in an effort to gain control. As he steps back, you feel your foot catch on a root, and the two of you tumble to the ground. You land next to him, groaning, and Hyunjin laughs a little.

"That was romantic," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Shhh, no more talking." He reaches back for you, pulling one leg over you so that he's on top of you, making his way down your body.

"What would you do," he says softly, "if I took these off?"

You watch as he slips one finger in the waistband of your shorts, dragging it over your stomach and watching you darkly. "Do it," you say quickly. "Do whatever you want." You start to kick off your shorts, but Hyunjin grabs both your thighs, holding you still.

"Be patient, love," he chides. "Goodness." He takes his time in taking off your shorts and underwear, and the next thing you know, you're completely exposed to him, on the forest floor of a kingdom you never would have even thought yourself to visit, let alone live in for the rest of your life.

He presses a sweet kiss against your vulva, then delves deeper in, practically burying himself in you. You feel his nose hit your clit, and you arch your back, pushing your hips up towards him. "No, no," he mumbles, pushing you back down. "Hold still, sweetheart." His lips reattach to you, sucking and licking as if it's the last meal of his life.

"I'm gonna cum," you manage to say between moans as you feel tension building inside of you, so much that it's almost unbearable.

"Then cum," he says against your clit, sending vibrations up your body. You moan one more time, and feel yourself releasing all over his tongue. He smiles against you, but continues to lick.

You reach down, pushing his face away from you. "I wanna, I don't-"

"Use your words, Princess." Hyunjin moves so he's hovering over you.

"I want you now."

He smiles. "As you wish."

It takes only a couple seconds for the two of you to rid the rest of your clothes, scattering them about on the ground next to you. As disgusted you would have been imaging you losing your virginity on the ground of a forest, getting your brains railed out by someone who wanted to kill you and your entire family, the only thing you could think about was Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

You reach up, tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck and tug him back down towards you into a frantic kiss.

"This is my first time," you say, breaking away for a moment. "I've never-"

Hyunjin stops moving to look at you. "Are you okay with this? We can stop, I didn't realize-"

"No. I want this."

"This isn't very romantic."

"Doesn't matter. I want it to be you."

"You're sure?" He says quietly against your lips, leaning down to kiss you gently once more.

You nod quickly, and you feel Hyunjin reach between the two of you to line himself up with your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, watching you for discomfort or pain. You swallow, leaning your head back, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss right on your jugular.

He groans lowly as he bottoms out, his pelvis touching your own.

He reaches down and strokes your hair while you look up at him, eyes half-lidded. "You're so pretty."

"So are you," you manage out as he starts moving, slowly and rhythmically. You remember that he said he was a dancer as a kid - assuming that wasn't a lie - and you know exactly what he's talking about. His hips are moving in ways you didn't know it was possible to move.

"Holy fucking fucks," you say breathlessly. He leans down to kiss you, and you're overwhelmed by the passion he forces upon you.

Without warning, you cum all over his length, feeling yourself pulsating around him.

Hyunjin pulls out as fast as he can, and cums all over your bare stomach. The two of you sit there for a moment, looking at each other, and he leans down to kiss you gently.

"How was it for your first time?" Hyunjin asks quietly, moving slowly so that he's lying next to you, staring up at the stars.

"You were passable," you lie, smiling over at him. You know that Hyunjin will probably be the best sex you ever have.

"I liked looking at you like that," he tells you, letting his arm wrap around your waist and his face bury into the crook of your neck and shoulder. "You looked so pretty. You always look pretty."

"So do you, Jinnie."

"Jinnie?"

"Wooyoung called you that, the first night we were here. I like it."

"Oh yeah? Then I need a nickname for you, don't I?"

"Maybe I'll change my name entirely," you ponder, looking up at the starry night sky.

"Anything's possible in a place like this."

"Hey Hyunjin?"

"Mmm?"

"What if I join the revolution?"

"Against your own family?"

"They're doing horrible things here. Nayeon is a part of it. My mother is a part of it. My father is a part of it. They're destroying lives. There's no reason why Levanter and Miroh can't live in peace."

"Alright," Hyunjin says, sitting up on one elbow to look at you. "If you really believe in it, then you should. But Y/N?"

You glance up at him.

"I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you too."

He smiles. "Then I'll be there every step of the way, Y/N."

You nod. "I want the people of Miroh to see revenge." You turn to Hyunjin. "We'll start by killing the heir to the throne. My sister."

A/N : i hate how i ended that :'( lmk if anyone wants a part two?

[producedbyhanjisung]

Prod. J.One's SKZ Masterlist

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[producedbyhanjisung]

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☁ it's mostly smut, act surprised !!

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[producedbyhanjisung]

⎯ SAY MY NAME. han jisung

🎧 : han jisung x female reader

TROPE. dystopian au, dating au, it's basically just smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

WARNINGS. a small scare but nothing too major, basically pwp

SYNOPSIS. when y/n can't sleep in the middle of the night, her boyfriend jisung finds a way to make her tired.

SMUT WARNINGS. name kink, unprotected sex, dom!jisung, sub!reader, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink if you squint, use of pet names ("pretty"), lowkey pwp lol, bulge kink/size kink (theyre kind of together), choking

"Jisung."

It's too dark out, the morning sunlight yet to fall delicately through your tattered curtains just as it did every morning. The moon is still high in the sky, its silver light dancing across your room as though a beautiful melody is being played somewhere far off in the distance. It ripples over Jisung's face, turning his blue hair into a dark, desolate sea in which you wanted to swim forever.

It takes a moment for you to realize his eyes were open, half-lidded as he sleepily watches you. "Did you say my name?"

His voice is hoarse, more evidence that he's just woken up.

You look around at the shattered hotel room the two of you were staying in. Even in the darkness, you can see the broken glass from the window, the shattered bathroom door laying splintered all over the floor, and the hole in the wall above Jisung's head.

"Yeah," you say. "I can't sleep."

Jisung says nothing at first, sitting up on one elbow to look down at you. "Oh? Nothing else?"

You feel his fingers gently tracing the hem of your shirt, slipping carefully up under the dirtied fabric.

"I thought I heard something," you tell him, eyes closing slightly.

Jisung leans close to press a kiss against your jawline. "Did you now?" As if newly addicted, he kisses you again, this time hastier, and resting it right on your adam's apple.

Jisung moves down to your collarbone, using one hand to gently lace his fingers through yours, and the other to slip up slightly under your shirt, tracing over your stomach. "Say my name again," he whispers against your chest, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes.

"Jisung." You gasp as he suddenly lowers his hand, now flitting delicately in and out from under the waistband of your shorts.

"Fuck." Jisung shivers a little as his name spills out of your mouth. He once again moves his hand to push your shirt up, and you take the initiative to pull it all the way over your head. Jisung moves up to kiss you delicately as soon as your first garment is gone.

His lips are rough, evidence of days without water, but you don't mind. The kiss begins as innocent as it can get, quickly turning into something more. Jisung reaches down into your shorts, pulling them off in one swift motion. They are discarded across the room, and out of the corner of your eye, you watch them land on a piece of glass from the window.

"Jisung," you moan out softly against his mouth as his finger rubs smoothly over your panties. As if something inside him breaks, Jisung pauses and sits up fully to look at you. In one motion, the hand that's been holding yours this entire time suddenly reaches over and grabs the other one as well, using one hand to pin both wrists above your head. At the same time, he moves so that he's straddling you, his lips coming down to find your mouth again.

"The way you say my name," he says softly, "is so intoxicating."

"Ji-"

He kisses you again, his grip tightening on your wrists.

"Do something," you mumble, still feeling his hand over your panties. "Please."

Jisung presses his lips into a pout as he pulls away. "Since you asked so nicely . . ." As he trails off, he moves lower onto your body, pressing light kisses against your skin as he moves.

He hooks his fingers lightly under your panties, drawing them down your legs at an impossibly slow rate.

When he finally pulls them off, he looks down at your wetness, gathering a little up on his finger as he traces your lower lips up and down. He holds the finger up so that you can see your arousal glinting in the moonlight, and smirks up at you. "So pretty."

Finally, Jisung lowers his face down into your cunt, closing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. With a gasp, you jerk your hips up, desperate for some friction, but Jisung's hand shoots out, pressing against your pelvis to hold you in place.

"Did you like that?" he asks, pulling his mouth off of you. You groan at the loss of contact, but manage to look down at him, nodding.

"Lie back, pretty. Let me take care of you."

He draws his mouth down again, but this time you are surprised as you feel his tongue tracing up and down your core. You try to move your hips again, but Jisung keeps his hand firm on your lower abdomen.

You moan out lowly as his tongue dips inside of you, and Jisung takes his time to drag it over your walls. You feel something begin to consume your body as the feeling gets better and better, and Jisung begins to move faster, his fingers now toying with your cunt as well.

Your hands move to his hair, trying to press his face closer to you, but he just laughs softly and continues at the same pace.

"Jisung." You tug on his hair lightly, and he groans into your cunt, pausing to look up at you. "I need you," you say quietly, your chest rising and falling.

As if taking notice of this, Jisung realizes your bra is still on. "Take that off," he says, motioning at it as he moves to kneel, tugging his shirt over his head. You sit up as well, reaching behind your body to unclasp your bra. Jisung has now removed his pants as well, leaving him only in his boxers before you. His erection is evident through the thin fabric, and you reach for it, touching it lightly before dragging your fingers up and over his abs.

Re-recognizing the condition the two of you were in again, Jisung wastes no time in pulling himself back onto you. He kisses you feverishly, quickly, as though you are the only thing that can quench a thirst he's had for his whole life.

He moves down to kiss your neck once again, grinding himself against you.

"Please," you choke out, tipping your head back slightly into the pillows.

"Of course, pretty."

Jisung then quickly kneels again to take off his boxers, and his length is bare before you.

"You're so good," Jisung mumbles, dragging his member up and down your slit once or twice. "So good and pretty. I'm gonna fuck you dumb."

You look up at him, surprised by the vulgar language, but not at all turned off.

Suddenly, Jisung pushes himself inside of you, groaning as he does so. It takes him a few seconds to get all the way inside, but once he does, he looks down to see where the two of you are connected.

"Fuck," you say softly, getting impatient, but Jisung is only smiling to himself, lightly running his fingers over the bulge in your stomach where his length is showing.

"So fucking pretty," he repeats again, drawing himself out fully and slamming back in.

Jisung begins a quick, rough pace, leaning over you to kiss your neck. You keep your head tilted back to give him more access as he continues to thrust into you. As if curious, he carefully brings his hand up to wrap around your throat, right under where he's kissing you.

As if encouraged, your moans get louder, overwhelmed at the sudden feeling.

Experimentally, Jisung squeezes lightly, and your eyes roll back. He brings himself up to kiss you, but the two of you can barely keep your lips connected, overwhelmed by the sensations being caused by the others.

Finally, Jisung mumbles lightly against you, "I'm gonna cum."

"Inside," you say breathlessly, your word coming out as more of a moan than an actual voice. "Please, Jisung."

He smiles, his teeth dragging over your lips.

As if on cue, you feel hot ropes of sticky cum shooting from inside him. Jisung presses himself as deep as he can get into you, breathing heavily against you. You feel the cum dripping inside you, and Jisung squeezes against your throat one last time as you cum as well, shaking a little bit and throwing your head back even further.

As you're both coming down from your highs, Jisung rests on top of you, pressing his face into your neck and removing his hand.

"I love you," he says softly into your neck.

"I love you too." Your eyes are still closed, while you try to picture what he looked like over you, sweaty with his muscles flexing as he moved.

"So."

You open your eyes as Jisung looks up at you, giving you an innocent smile.

"What were you saying about not being able to sleep?"

A/N : hi lovelies :) this is my first writing on here and my first smut ever so like lmk how i did