Maybe Its Not Our Fault

❜─maybe it’s not our fault

(thanks to my bestie @byunfirstlady for this beautiful banner! <3)

✧˖*°࿐ summary: After a nasty break up that left you both heartbroken, Hyunjin goes back home for the summer to get away from everything and spend some quality time with his family. When summer ends and college starts once again, you both are set on avoiding the other at all cost, almost like your relationship didn’t even exist to begin with. But what will happen when in a surprising turn of events, your best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace among your broken relationships?

Will these circumstances get you back together or put an end to everything once and for all?

Or alternatively: the one where being ‘just friends’ with your ex proves to be the most difficult task of them all.

✧˖*°࿐ pairing: dance major!hyunjin x music major!reader (ft all the skz members)

✧˖*°࿐ genre: social media!au (with some written parts), college!au, angst, exes-to-lovers!au, slow burn, fluff, humor (I mean…that’s the plan anyway)

✧˖*°࿐ warnings: cursing

♡. schedule: i’ll try to post twice a week, maybe even more if I have the time

♡. taglist: CLOSED!!

… … … … … … … … … … … … … ⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙ … … … … … … … … … … … … …

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INSOMNIA 불면증 CHAPTER #3 (18+)

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS:

💫 GENRE: angst (!!!), smut, fluff (if you search for it with a magnifying glass)

🗝 WORD COUNT: 11.0k

🧸 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, minho x afab reader, nonidol!au, university!au, fwb, friends2lovers, reader is queer, roommate!chan, frenemy!minho, childhoodfriend!tzuyu (twice), roommate!lisa (blackpink), roommate!felix, miyeon ((g)i-dle), members of ateez, original characters, some quotes/references to BMTH – drown & sleepwalking as well as Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out, oc vicky our favourite gemini and reader protector 👏🏻 vicky marry me pls we also stan tzuyu, lisa, felix, chan and minho in this household because they are such good friends, reader is addressed as Ms Y/L/N once

🍃 WARNING: chan has insomnia, reader has depression, mention of SA in the past (not explicit and none of the idols of course!!), lots of insecurities about society’s expectations regarding romance and sex; daddy issues (!!), explicit description of depressive episode, loss of appetite because of depression (!!), mention of sleep paralysis and drowning (solely as a metaphor!), minho playfully slaps reader on the ass once but they’ve given consent lol (minho the butt hunter), homophobic comment, slutshaming and victim blaming comment, mention of violence, fighting, blood and injuries

✨ SMUT WARNING: dom!minho (both softdom and harddom) sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, semi-unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), marking, slight spit play, degrading, praising, edging, dumbification, possessiveness, name calling (doll, darling, slut, whore, good girl), accidental voyeurism

💌 AUTHOR’S NOTE: wow okay I guess this is a heavy one. Get your tissues ready for crying and other things This is also a bit self insert but at least it helped me cope with mental stuff, so this chapter means a lot to me! Anyways– pls still enjoy and thanks for supporting me. I really appreciate it 🤍

spotify playlist ☁️

☽ SERIES MASTERLIST ☽

The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Also minors do not interact, this post contains mature themes. By clicking on “read more” you consent to nsfw content.

Week 1, January 3rd

Week 1, January 3rd

Week 1, January 3rd

Week 1, January 3rd

Week 1, January 3rd

Motivation: 4/10

General mood: 4/10

Swollen eyes get hit by the midday sunbeams, making them wake up earlier than you would have liked. Grabbing your phone from your nightstand table, you realise you haven’t charged it. Great. Now your device has as much energy as you, at least you’re matching!

It takes you thirty minutes to unlock your phone just to scroll through the same two social media apps for another half an hour, until you get up. The kitchen is empty and you’re glad about it. Socialising is the last thing you need right now.

But you’ve gotten your hopes up too soon, when you notice Chan joining you in the room. A small ‘hello’ escapes his lips and you greet him back with a nod.

“I hope I don’t cross any boundaries here but how are you? I haven’t really seen you these days.”

Right, Chan, I’m in the middle of getting over a heartbreak you caused whilst entering the worst depressive episode in a while. I’m doing just great.

“I’m alright.”

He doesn’t believe you, doesn’t believe any of your words that you so casually lie through your teeth.

“Wow. Clearly you’re not.”

It’s getting annoying now. You should have never left your room.

“Okay. What if? Still don’t wanna talk about it.”

His face softens, at least you’re being honest now even though you decline his offer.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to. Just know that I’m there for you, alright?”

For fuck’s sake – why does he have to care about you like that?

And it brings you back to all the little emotions and feelings you have for him and probably will never get rid off.

Even if the unlikely possibility of Chan wanting something serious struck, you would be way too insecure to get into a relationship now. You really don’t want to transfer all your emotional and mental garbage onto someone else. Especially, since you know Chan has to fight his own demons as well.

☽

Week 2, January 13th

Motivation: 3/10

General mood: 3/10

The new university classes you’re attending aren’t doing any good to your mental health. It has only been the second week, still you’re already overwhelmed. Not surprising, considering you’re so drained out.

You’re deeply holding onto the tiny molecules of energy that you have left, somewhere deep down, as they awaken whenever you’re listening to your current favourite song, seeing the sun rise in the morning or one of your friends sending a ‘this reminded me of you’ text added to a meme they share on social media.

The days go by, one exactly like the next. Blaming it on the general winter depression and New Years’ sadness that’s always overwhelmed you, you’re trying to push the thoughts aside.

Not the best idea. Ignoring them just fills your life with this void again. The void, that’s even more unbearable than all the emotions you can’t cope with. It’s like there’s shadow at places the light never visits.

Your friends distract you from it, being with them has always helped you – no matter if it’s Tzuyu who’s known you for so long, Felix who’s still the sunshine on a cloudy day for you, Lisa who thrives you to keep going whenever you can’t get up, Minho – the newest addition to your circle – who’s so similar to you it’s almost scary and Chan who’s just there for you and listens no matter what. 

Yes, even these days. Yes, even after the talk last week.

Even though you’re not really talking to each other, he makes sure you’re alright. Filling the fridge with food he knows you will still be able to eat even though you’ve lost appetite. You appreciate it, deeply, even though you don’t have any strength to tell him.

In conclusion, your friends are the last sunbeams you’re so desperately holding onto.

So there’s hope. There definitely is.

Until your phone receives a notification sent by him. He’s added you to a group chat with many people from your year, Tzuyu’s contact number is included as well.

All hope vanishes away like ashes in the slightest wind. It’s there again. The void mixed with the right amount of anxiety sprinkled in.

Even after all these years, you know you’ll feel uncomfortable around him. You can already sense all the anxiety attacks coming in, it’s like thousand tiny needles stabbing into your stomach and your breath hitches. Goosebumps all over your skin, whenever his name gets thrown in the room.

But only a few more years. Only a few more years and you will mark that seven-years-line. They say, a body and all of its cells regenerate after this period.

That means, one day you’ll have a body he has never touched.

Your ex boyfriend is inviting you – along with some other people from high school – to a birthday he’s celebrating with a friend. Said friend wants you there as a guest, that’s the reason you were added to the group chat in the first place.

They still don’t get it, don’t they?

A few friends from your year have known about the incidents that happened back then, especially the one who’s invited you. Correction – they’re not really a friend anyway. You’ve lost touch years ago and even ignoring this, they’ve never supported you with your trauma.

In your last year, right before graduation, when your worst depressive episode of all time was torturing you until you were only an empty shell, you’ve told them about your experiences. Even though more than two years had already passed.

The friend had never taken it seriously, pressuring you into speaking up about it and assuming it couldn’t be that bad since you didn’t go to the police.

Sure. Go to the police without any evidence to file charges against your boyfriend.

Also, when it happened, you didn’t even realise it was his fault. You’ve blamed it on yourself.

You’re not doing that anymore. You’ve been through way too many hours of therapy. You’ve gained a lot of self confidence and you know your worth.

Still, he’s the second man that broke your heart. That’s why you’ve sworn to yourself to never let anyone get close to you. At least no men.

And on top of that – as if you’re not already laying on the ground, bleeding and unable to get up – you get a text message from your father. Speaking of the devil. His contact name is his full name, you’ve changed it years ago.

Hello, Y/N. How is university going? You never call. Just wanted to let you know I won’t be supporting you financially for forever. You better finish that degree soon. Please keep me updated at least. Otherwise I’ll have to speak to your mother.

You grab your notebook from under the bed, taking out the pen laying on top of it, correcting today’s documentation.

Week 2, January 13th

Motivation: 3/10 2/10

General mood: 3/10 1/10

☽

Week 3, 19th January

Motivation: 1/10

General mood: 1/10

It’s like you’ve fallen into a hole, that’s growing deeper and deeper. The one thing you always wanted to avoid – your mood and mental state depending on another person. When you were still with Chan, even though it has never been anything official and serious, you’ve turned into the light of life.

There was nothing to worry about. He always made sure you’ve eaten enough, you’ve done your studies on time and you’ve just felt generally secure and comfortable.

You curse yourself for it. Even though it’s not your fault. Feelings, emotions and such have always been something incredibly hard to deal with. You’ve wondered why, through the years. You’ve spoken a lot about it in therapy, the reason why you’re scared to show your true self to others.

In one of the recent appointments you had with your therapist, you’ve dug a little deeper. Trying to find just a small particle that would lead you to an answer. You thought it was ridiculous. What your therapist said.

A constant state of anxiety should be the cause for all this?

These two play together like fire and ice. For the most time of your life you believed that anxiety wasn’t a thing you had to deal with. It’s still not like that. You’ve seen it in friends who are tortured with that problem.

Anxiety, somehow, is a feeling, an emotion as well. But you don’t experience those. You haven’t – in years.

Until it caught you right then and there. Last week. When receiving that text message.

It all makes sense now, even though you still can’t believe it. The way he’s been emotionally unavailable your whole life, even before your parents had separated, helps you connect all the dots.

It’s like a mixture of never learning how to deal with any feeling except for anger and the constant state of anxiety caused by the pressure he’s put on you. There’s simply no space for other emotions. There’s no space for sadness, for happiness, for excitement.

Void.

Void is all you’ve ever known.

And above all that – you’re so tired. Tired from the city that never sleeps, tired from all the little things that bother you, tired from being tired. 

Every day now consists of waiting for you don’t even know what, as the time just doesn’t seem to pass by. But still, everything happens so fast and in the blink of an eye it’s the next day. The next day of not getting anything done. Just laying in bed waiting for the hours to pass by.

It’s as if everybody else is having the time of their lives, dancing and cheering in the sun under the blue sky and you’re waiting for the sun to rise.  As if you’re stuck in the night. Everything’s dark. Everything’s quiet. Everything’s void.

It seems as if void is all you’ll ever know.

☽

Week 4, 27th January 

Motivation: 1/10

General mood: 1/10

You call Tzuyu every day. She listens to you rambling and crying over the two men who’ve made you lose trust in their whole species.

She listens to you no matter what.

Until you stop calling every day.

☽

Week 5

Motivation: (patient hasn’t specified)

General mood: (patient hasn’t specified)

☽

Week 6

Motivation: (patient hasn’t specified)

General mood: (patient hasn’t specified)

☽

Week 7

Motivation: (patient hasn’t specified)

General mood: (patient hasn’t specified)

☽

Another buzzing sound echoes through your bedroom. The blinds are preventing any sunlight from entering your dark room, so the phone screen flashing every other minute disrupts your thought process.

The thought process without any actual thoughts, to be precise here.

When the vibrations start again, making you get a bit furious now, you grab the device and turn ‘don’t disturb’ mode on.

Until you read the notifications.

Unread messages (14) from Tzuyu bestie

Daring to open it without any intention to respond – just like you’ve ignored the countless other texts from your best friend – you get hit by a long paragraph.

Tzuyu bestie: Hey darling. Just know there’s no need to respond to any of my messages. Remember I’m there for you whenever you need me. Please don’t hesitate to reach out but I also understand, if you don’t want to talk to anyone or me specifically right now. I love you. It’ll get better when the time is right. You’ve got this. Your body and mind both need this now. You’re strong and you deserve to rest. You deserve all the best in this world. Thank you for being there and for fighting. <3

Fuck. She’s online, you realise now. Your best friend has definitely noticed you reading her text. But there’s no time to worry anymore, since another received text interrupts your thoughts and her words are so fitting for this situation, it’s almost scary.

Tzuyu bestie: You’re not obliged to react to any of this, but I just wanted to let you know there are a few messages on pieces of paper in your apartment to cheer you up and help you get through the day. Maybe this will help. I love you.

A smile instantly erupts all over your face and you believe it’s the first expression you’ve experienced in some weeks.

And the information she’s given you makes you curious. Curious to at least find out about these texts. That’s why you get up from your bed and leave your room, before you check twice if someone’s at home.

When you’re sure the coast is clear you toddle on your tiptoes to the kitchen, searching for any evidence for these mysterious messages your best friend mentioned.

It takes you a few minutes and by now you’ve already searched through the whole apartment, until you find a post-it on your bedroom door, directly above the door knob.

It’s not your childhood best friend’s handwriting, you would have recognised this for sure. Also, it’s quite obvious it has to be made by someone who’s visited the apartment in the past few days.

Taking a closer look, you come to the realisation it’s the same font that was printed onto those small notes attached to the candies and snacks some weeks ago.

Still, there’s no sender’s name on the paper.

But you don’t need one, you already know who’s written it.

“I’ll bring you home again. You’ve got this. I won’t let you drown, alright?”

These are Chan’s words, it’s clear as daylight.

Not solely the handwriting tells you, it’s the words he’s chosen, similar to the talks you’ve shared late at night.

One time, he told you that the depressive thoughts he’s had in his life felt like drowning, being unable to reach water’s surface. That night, you compared your own experiences to sleep paralysis – the urge to get up but it doesn’t matter how hard you try, your body is incapable of moving while your mind is aware of all that’s happening.

It’s comforting to know he’s there for you. Even though he physically isn’t. He’s helping you emotionally.

And after eternity you finally felt okay. Still empty inside but you’re not helpless. 

It’s always darkest before dawn, after all.

Week 8, 22nd February

Motivation: 1/10

General mood: 2/10

☽

Week 9, March 4th

Motivation: 1/10

General mood: 3/10

You get back from university. Even though you couldn’t manage to get inside the lecture hall, you were at least able to read some literature for your class in the library. 

Entering the kitchen, you spot another one of those notes from Chan.

He doesn’t know how you’re doing, he’s in ruins breaking his mind thinking about how you’re all alone in this situation. Simply, because you don’t really accept any help that’s offered to you.

Lisa, Felix, Chan – all of your roommates – as well as Minho, Vicky and Miyeon are trying to get through that thick shell you’ve built around you. You’re pushing everyone away, but at least they’re able to make sure you eat enough.

Felix bakes brownies for you and cooks, even though you barely eat any of his food. Lisa does your course work, homework, essays, no matter what. Miyeon and Vicky send you playlists with good vibes, offering you to get ready for appointments you can’t avoid, so you feel somehow comfortable.

Minho sends you pics of his cats on a daily basis, always waiting for you to add a little heart to his messages so he’s sure you’re surviving. He knows you don’t want to talk and he respects it. After all, you don’t know each other that well. Still, you feel so safe around him.

And onto your other roommate.

Chan is still ‘hiding’ all these notes in the apartment, attaching a piece of chocolate to it, so he’s sure your stomach isn’t as empty as your soul. It’s better to eat anything than nothing, that’s what he’s always told you. Your mind can’t work if your body is barely getting through the day.

It’s hard for him. There’s still no response to any of the texts, still, he knows you’re reading them. So at least he’s sure they help somehow. Your other friends keep him updated on you, telling him it’s getting better even though you’re just doing baby steps.

But baby steps are better than no steps at all. 

One step forward and two steps back still means you’re going in the right direction.

He dearly hopes you’ll never forget this.

“I know this loneliness can be haunting. I know the weight of the world is hard to hold, the weight of all of this. I’ll bring you home again. I promise.”

The words echo through your head once you read them, hours later after they’ve been written, still the ink looks fresh. Chan doesn’t know how much of an impact his little sentences have and you wish to tell him in person but you can’t.

You can barely speak about your mental issues with Tzuyu, let alone Lisa or Felix here. It’s always easier to throw all things bothering you into the suitcase of someone who's far away. That’s the only possibility for them to store it and lock it away in a safe until you’re ready to get the keys and deal with it.

But there’s no way you can live with avoiding him any longer. He’s still there for you, even though you’ve dumped him over the phone and made it look as if you’ve slept with one of his friends a week after – only because you’re afraid about your feelings for Chan.

He means so much to you, more than anyone has ever meant to you. You can’t do this to him. You have to at least say something, respond in any way even if it’s just a few words and not in person.

So you decide to scribble something at the back of the paper, hoping Chan will find it. You place it under his closed door. He went to the campus’s library some hours ago, wanting to get uni stuff done. At least that’s what he's texted in the group chat of your roommates.

Some hours later, when you've finally made it outside to get some groceries, Chan finds the tiny paper under his door.

“Help me find a way to breathe. It’s like time stood still. Please, wake me up. Give me a reason to start again.”

Not a minute goes by until Chan finds himself in his room, the note in his hand getting squashed and scrambled by the way he’s balling a fist. He’s at a loss for words caused by your own words and caused by his helplessness.

He’s wondered over the weeks if you got better. Always hoping for the best and he was sure his notes did at least a little something. 

But it’s way more serious even though – little does he know – you’re already on your way to become healthier again.

So Chan decides to text you although he knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to cross any boundaries but your words let his heart shatter into pieces, making him sincerely worry about you.

Chan: I found your message. If you ever want to talk or I can do some more, please tell me.

You receive the message on your way up the stairs to the apartment, making you halt in place which causes the groceries to tumble down.

Shit. What are you supposed to answer? You’ve never thought he’d respond to your reply just like you didn’t. But there’s no way you can still ignore him now, you don’t want to cause any serious trouble.

A short text is the least he deserves for looking out for you, for letting the others know and for everything in general over the past weeks.

You: I’m not ready yet. I’ve gotta be honest here (sorry I’m doing this over text but I simply can’t speak these words) I’m not sure if I’m able to talk about all of this in person, I’m not sure if I can talk about all this with you. I hope you understand. Thank you for being there anyway. These messages have helped me a lot.

A few seconds later he replies and you’re already feeling relieved.

Chan: Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk whenever you’re ready. I promise, I’ll always be there for you. 

☽

Week 10, March 9th

Motivation: 2/10

General mood: 3/10

In a moment of weakness, you might have mentioned to Felix and Lisa that your mental state is not solely based on your general depression and family situation but also romance stuff.

You’re not telling them who you’re crying about, as they both respect your boundaries – as long as you promise Lisa at least once a day you’re not having mental breakdowns over Ben.

In any other situation, Lisa would have created a profile on any nasty dating profile for you. But she knows you’re not ready for that in the slightest. Instead, she’s still helping you with all your assignments, making sure you somehow study as much as what’s possible.

She also goes out for a walk with you every day, adding another five minutes from time to time. Felix waits for the both of you, still baking the brownies and making some tea since it’s still a bit cold outside even though spring is right around the corner.

Chan is busy with his internship, basically working the whole day and studying at night when he isn’t capable of falling asleep anyway.

“Do you want a scoop of vanilla ice cream with your brownie?” Felix asks, once you enter the kitchen with Lisa.

You simply nod, laying your jacket aside before you sit down.

“She’s getting better,” Lisa says, almost inaudible.

“Because I’m having vanilla ice cream?” You question her thought process.

“Some weeks ago you would barely eat a piece of brownie. That’s a lot of improvement here and we’re proud.”

She pats your shoulder softly, while Felix places the plate in front of you, as they both join you with eating the sweets.

Once you’ve finished the delicious meal – yes you’re in fact finally enjoying it again – you head to your room, a sparkle of motivation hitting you to send a mail to your professor that you’ve been procrastinating to type into your keyboard.

The note attached to your door, unable to be noticed by your other two roommates since they barely go to this part of the corridor, gets into your vision and you immediately grab it before entering your room.

Sitting down on the bed, a moment of silence, you read the words.

“I’ll dive the deepest oceans for you. I’ll make you feel safe, I promise. I will save you. You’re not alone.”

You’re glad he keeps continuing writing the texts. They help you a lot, possibly the most out of all the incredible things your friends do for you. You make a mental note to thank him one day – with words, spoken out in real life.

But for now, you’re only capable of whispering them out, quietly to yourself.

“Thank you, Channie.”

☽

Week 11, March 14th

Motivation: 3/10

General mood: 4/10

In the distance you hear your bedroom door swinging open, but since Lisa mentioned to look after you today, keep you company for a few hours – even though you told her not to – you decide to continue laying down and ignore her instead.

Slap.

The stinging pain on your butt cheek makes you wake up from your depressed daydreaming. Since when does Lisa have such big hands?

“Get your ass up.”

This isn’t Lisa’s voice.

“Lee Minho– what the fuck?!”

You turn around now, so that you’re laying on your back – this way butthunter!minho won’t be able to fulfill his deeply rooted desires.

“I’ve made some high quality food for you and had been standing in the kitchen for two hours.You better not wait until it gets cold, I will scold you.”

Ah, he’s being strict today. But you’re not in the mood for that. Even though nothing between the both of you has happened since New Years Eve (you were simply not in the mood) you’re still flirting on a daily basis, because that’s just what you do.

It’s not weird. That’s just how you are.

“Who even allowed you to enter this apartment unannounced?” You ask him, wondering how he’s appeared in your room out of nowhere.

“I teleported myself,” he jokes, before he sits down next to you on the bed while placing the food on your nightstand table.

“Lee Minho, you are so funny,” you talk back, “but for real, how did you get in?”

The boy takes a deep breath as if he’s getting ready to be shouted at by you.

“I’m sorry to reveal this–“

“Lisa told you to look after me, didn’t she? I’ve told her I’m getting better I just need some more–“

“It was Chan.”

Oh. Well, that is surprising to say the least.

The conversation subsides, once Minho picks out the food from his bag and toddles to the kitchen to get some chopsticks and spoons.

“You’re gonna allow me to eat in bed?” You ask him as if he’s some kind of a parent to you that you have to ask for permission. Minho adores it, if he’s honest.

“Sure. As long as this makes it easier for you to eat I don’t see a problem with that. I know I’m intriguing from time to time,” his choice of words make you think back of the deep talk you had on New Year’s Eve, “but we’re still doing this at a slow pace, okay?”

You nod whilst taking the first bite from the delicious food and you’re happy you’re already at a stage of healing that you’re capable of enjoying the food he’s put so much effort in. 

“This tastes really good, Lee Minho, I’m sincerely impressed.”

You can see the red colour on his face, as he blushes because of your praise. But he just brushes it off and continues eating.

Once you’re finished with the food, the reoccurring thought comes back to your mind, making you question if he’s really just here to eat together. After all, Chan has invited him to get here, probably with the intention to do something about your mental state.

“So now that we’re finished, why are you here exactly?”

The boy doesn’t fight your accusations, still he rolls his eyes to your question. 

“I’m here to make an appointment with you. An appointment with your therapist.”

Yeah. It’s clear now. How could you fall for such an amateur plan?

“Ugh– I knew it. You can’t be trusted, you’re a Scorpio after all,” is all you can think of to somehow get back at him.

“What the fuck has that supposed to do with anything?! I’m here because I care about you, stupid.”

Because he cares about you.

“If you cared about me, you wouldn’t pressure me into speaking about my feelings.”

He’s furious. You can already see the smoke and the devil’s horns making their way out of his head. Minho visibly has enough of your behaviour.

“So first of all, brat, I’m not pressuring you into talking about your emotions with me, that’s why we’re scheduling that appointment instead. Second of all, if you’re friends with me, don’t expect me to handle you with kid gloves. I will always be honest with you, even if the truth may hurt.”

You scoff like a little child, crossing your arms in front of your chest before escaping his piercing gaze without any success – Minho is fast to grab you by the jar so you’re looking at him again.

“You barely know anything about me.”

That is a lie.

“Shut your mouth. You know I’m right. I know enough about you to help you and get back on track. I’m not here to make you feel uncomfortable on purpose but it will always get worse first before it can get better. That’s how it works.”

That is correct.

“Alright,” you give in now with just a simple word. Deep down you know you’re wrong and he’s just there to dig you out of this shithole.

“Ugh– I can’t believe I had a crush on you,” Minho blurts out, completely devastated from the argument.

“Lee Minho– you’re fucking mean,” you whine at his demand, knowing for sure you would be furious if any other person had pulled this stunt on you. 

But then something in your head switches and it makes you curious to ask for more. “You had a crush on me?” It’s not like you haven’t already known. He hasn’t necessarily been good at hiding it. Still, you want to push some buttons – mostly for your ego.

“Yeah. I mean, I still find you attractive. I can separate feelings from sex, unlike other people in this room,” Minho earns a slight nudge on his upper arm from you, “but I know we’re not meant to be and the more weeks and months had passed by, the more I fell out of love and realised how much I value this friendship instead.”

Something about the way his voice sounds when he speaks his words tells you he’s not completely honest. 

But you don’t push further. You’ve annoyed him enough for today.

☽

“Ms Y/L/N, it’s always okay to slow down. It’s okay to change your driving speed. Or to not drive a road down at all. You’re not obligated to choose a certain route or to choose a certain vehicle.”

She’s always known you’ve preferred to speak and listen through metaphors.

“Maybe, you don’t have that driver’s licence yet to take that path. But that’s okay. It’s okay to pause, as long as you’re gonna head towards the destination.”

She sees the small smile erupting on your face, knowing you understand what she means. 

And it’s for the first time that you’ve sat on this chair in this very room you’ve been in so many times, that your eyes start stinging, tears hanging on your lower lash line but your therapist is fast to hand you as tissue.

The droplets don’t roll down, they’re basically just filling and disrupting your vision but you still decide to dry them with the paper.

“What’s happening now is a huge step, Ms Y/L/N.”

You look at her dumbfounded, unsure what exactly she’s referring to.

“You. Crying at an appointment. If I reckon it correctly, this has never happened before and I’m proud of you. Not as a therapist, but sincerely I’m happy you’re able to show how you feel even if it’s probably just a tiny bit of that chaos of emotions inside your head and soul.”

Well, now you’re definitely crying. The giggles escaping your mouth harmonise with your sniffling sounds, indicating these are in fact happy tears.

Tears showing you’re relieved, tears showing you’re feeling comfort, tears showing you’re on your way back home.

☽

Week 12, March 26th

Motivation: 5/10

General mood: 4/10

“No, really?! The little restaurant right at the corner? They sell the best pizza I’ve ever eaten in my whole life!”

You giggle at his words, already on a good level of intoxication.

“Yes! My best friend works there. Her name is Tzuyu.”

He takes another sip from his drink, offering you to refill your cup which you allow him to.

“I don’t think I know her. But– what brings you here? So far away from home?”

The guy you met approximately ten minutes ago – he’s attending the same course like the birthday girl Lisa – turned out to be from the same hometown as you.

“I could ask you the same, Sebastian.”

The conversation goes on for a bit and it’s refreshing to talk to someone who has the same roots as you, making you feel both nostalgic and welcome.

It feels good to be back – back at a party around your dearest friends, talking to this handsome stranger and you wonder what the night has to offer.

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself flirting with him, sharing little compliments as you play with a strand of your hair knowing for sure your old energy is slowly getting back.

He seems so innocent, you think while you are already preparing yourself to teach him some manners in case he’ll continue acting all bratty with his jokes.

But then he destroys everything you’ve built up over the past hour with one stupid comment.

“Yeah– no I think women who try to assert dominance, and I really mean trying here since they’re never able, are most of the time just some stupid gay feminists with daddy issues.”

So of course, the first thing that comes to your mind is an absolutely common reaction.

Splash.

Your drink meets his face, decorating his visage in such a pathetic way, just like the words this loser chose to speak out.

“My bad. Maybe it’s because I’m just a stupid gay feminist who can’t think.”

A second later Lisa makes him leave the party.

Luckily, it’s already past midnight by that time, everyone has wished Lisa the best for her birthday and you’re sure the party is almost over. What a washout of a night.

Maybe nobody wouldn’t mind me going to my bedroom anyway, you think as you already make your way towards the corridor. 

Until you catch a sound that makes you halt in place.

“Fuck– Chan,” you hear a woman whimper through the thin walls of your roommate’s bedroom.

The voice is familiar to you and it only takes you to listen to another few of her moans to realise you know her.

It’s Macy.

Macy with Chan.

Stupid Macy with your Channie again.

You should have known. That probably isn’t even their first time anyway. Still, it makes your heart ache and you have trouble breathing in the already sticky air that’s lingering in the narrow hallway.

Well, at least you don’t really hear a sound coming from Chan, so maybe that’s a good thing. He’s not enjoying it as much as he’s enjoyed it with you.

That’s what you tell yourself to somehow calm down.

It’s okay, Y/N.

You’ve seen it coming anyway. You haven’t expected the both of you to magically get together, for him to wait for you until you’re finally ready to leave that train station and meet him at the assigned destination.

It’s okay. 

You’ll get over him.

When the time is right.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

When you snap your head around, Minho stands in your vision, shoulders hanging down and a face similar to a puppy accentuating his empathy.

You remain silent after he’s spoken, trying to gather your thoughts.

“It’s alright. I understand him. I wouldn’t have waited for me either. It’s good he’s going out and having fun. He deserves it.”

With this statement, Minho’s visage tenses, eyebrows furrowing at the thought you’ve given up on the boy you’ve loved for so long.

“Come here,” is all he can think of, as he takes a few steps towards you, pulling you closer. “It’s gonna be okay. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

You slightly nod, as your head softly lays against his chest. 

“I just want to forget him. I want this to be over. I want to think of anything else,” you’re finally able to transform your sorrows into a sentence.

Soaking in the scents of his perfume to calm you down, you try focusing on anything else. Until Minho lets go of you, only to make it easier for your eyes to meet.

“You want to think about something else, huh? Get your pretty mind off of him?”

You simply nod at him, looking at his face with big expectant eyes

“I can help you forget about him.”

And that’s how you find yourself back in your room, together with Minho, as he cages you between the door and his body, just like he did on New Year's Eve.

There’s no time to rethink the decision, his hands are already on your hips, his mouth attacking yours as he asks for entrance. You let out a moan once his tongue touches yours and you expect him to smirk against your lips, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Minho deepens the kiss, his hands wandering down until they meet the back of your thighs. In the blink of an eye, he picks you up so your legs are entangled around his waist, making it easier for him to guide you to your bed.

The weight of the mattress shifts underneath the both of you, once he’s laid you down on top of the soft blanket. He wastes no time in continuing the assault on your neck, kitten licks turning into rough bites now. 

Minho makes sure to turn those kisses into a memorable sight, as he wishes to imprint the look of your purple skin on his brain.

You’re his now. Even if it’s just for tonight.

That’s what good friends are for, right?

Every cell in your body wants him. The way his touches make you squirm underneath him, lets you lose your last piece of sanity. But it’s okay. You feel comfortable with him. You feel secure.

You feel so safe you almost forget it’s been some time since you’ve slept with someone. You can still reckon it, the day before you’d left for Christmas, when you said goodbye to Chan.

Get Chan out of your head, Y/N.

By now, Minho has placed his hands on top of your still clothed breasts, massaging the soft flesh as he’s hovering over you.

“Is this okay, pretty?” He wants to make sure you feel comfortable, since he’s been waiting for who knows how long for this exact moment.

“Y-Yes– feels good,” you whimper, rolling your eyes to the back of your head to deal with the sensations he’s giving you. His touches feel like everything you need now and they soon turn into everything you think about.

“I love this dress on you– but let’s get this off, darling,” he insists. You position yourself on your forearms first until you're sitting in front of him and Minho wastes no time to pull the fabric over your head, leaving you there in nothing but your underwear.

It’s as if you’re doing these things for the first time all over again – you’ve never imagined Minho to be so gentle.

You soon find your own hands unbuttoning his shirt to which the boy shyly giggles but he’d never complain. After all, it’s you who’s roaming their hands all over his body. You.

Suddenly, your lips are attached to his neck now, slowly wandering down his chest and Minho lets his head fall back in pleasure. It leaves him breathless, how your soft touches feel on his skin. It’s definitely the most beautiful feeling he’s experienced in a while and Minho wouldn’t trade anything for it.

Already lightheaded yourself, you aim a bit further south with your kisses until you're on eye level with his lower stomach. But the movements don’t stop until Minho halts in place and you’re unsure if you’ve done something wrong. So you just stare at him with big eyes, mouth slightly agape.

“Is everything okay?”

You’re not the one supposed to ask him if he’s okay. After all, he should be the one to make you feel good, make you forget about your crush he hopes isn’t that serious.

“How about you lean back and just enjoy, doll?”

With the way you’re looking at him now, suddenly obedient, he’s gathering enough confidence to push through with his initial plan. You nod in agreement but that’s not enough for the man who’s by now towering over you, as your back hits the mattress underneath.

“Consent, pretty. I won’t start until you ask me to.”

You scoff, believing this is just one of his games to boost his control. 

“Minho– please, you can go rough on me. I can handle it.”

The boy is quite startled about your request, as he hasn’t expected you to go all in already but then a smirk appears all over his face at your request.

“Thought you’d never tell me to.”

He winks, before his lips meet yours again and he goes in for another kiss, this time much more aggressive than the others before. His tongue slips into your mouth, gaining dominance over your own.

In the blink of an eye, he’s caressing your cheek just to place his fingers under your jaw a few seconds later in order to keep you in place just like he prefers. A moan escapes your lips, vibrating against his own as he disconnects them from you so he’s able to let out a chuckle.

“Off– off with this,” he points at your underwear as he helps you out of the clothing. Once your panties land in his hand, he observes the wet patch on the fabric and smirks to himself.

“Gonna keep this one, doll,” he tells you before throwing it on top of his discarded shirt that’s pooling on the floor.

His kisses start from your chest again, slowly making their way to their desired destination, until he places them where you need him the most.

“What a pretty pussy you’ve got here and all mine,” he whispers against your heat.

You observe him putting two of his fingers inside his mouth next, as he stares at you and admires your eagerness. You roll your eyes to the back of your head, once the digits slide inside you, stretching you out so deliciously for what will follow.

A moan can be heard from you and you cover your face with your arm, as you soak in every moment of what’s currently happening. Caused by the sharp thrusts of his fingers, he manages to brush that velvety spot inside you.

You don’t even realise that the thought of Chan has left your mind minutes ago.

“Look at you, already squirming underneath me and I haven’t even done much. Pathetic.”

The next moan that can be heard from you is enough that Minho needs as confirmation he’s going in the right direction with you here.

“Just like I thought. Pretty doll likes to be humiliated, right?”

“N-No,” you struggle to talk back.

He spreads your legs a little wider, so the string of saliva leaving his mouth lands where you need to be touched the most. You whimper again and Minho just laughs about your helplessness, since he’s enjoying this a bit too much.

“Yeah, keep convincing yourself. Good luck with that.”

A long wet stripe over your clit spreads the precum and his spit evenly, allowing you to get ready for what’s yet to come. Quite literally. The way his tongue works over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sends waves of pleasure through your whole body. By now you’re sure there’s only desperation flooding through your veins.

And when you catch a glimpse in Minho’s direction, his fluffy hair disheveled and hiding his face, you can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck–“ you cry out, as your hands grabs one of your breasts, softly massaging the flesh and Minho notices, so he keeps the other one occupied with his own fingers.

You’re getting closer and closer to that sweet feeling, the build up in your lower stomach makes you insane and the delicious taste is within reach.

Until Minho pulls away.

“What the fuck, Minho?!”

He chuckles, whilst wiping away your juices from his chin, before he cleans his fingers by licking the remaining droplets off.

“Nah, slut, when you cum, you only cum around my cock, you get that?”

You visibly gulp at his demand, as you change into a seating position again with the remaining physical energy you have left. The brown haired stands on his knees now, looking down at you in anticipation for you to help him out of his pants.

So you do, but you make sure to take your time, just for the fun of it. Minho is so easy to be provoked and you love it.

“Go on,” he tells you, as he grabs your face with his hands, fingers squishing your cheeks together and you do as you’re told.

Minho isn’t as big as Chan, but that’s the last thing on your mind. After all, his mission has been successful.

“Condoms?” He asks now, looking at you impatiently.

“I’m on the pill– I want you raw– if that’s alright with you,” you ask for his consent now.

“Of course– fuck– I can’t imagine anything better than that.”

With a swift motion he spins you around so that you land on your stomach, before he grabs you by the hips, so that your ass is high up now.

“Good thing I remember your favourite position from that truth or dare half a year ago, right, doll?”

Since Minho has first met you, he’s always wondered what being buried inside your cunt would feel like and it’s no disappointment at all – the way your tight walls clench around him, makes him lose his last bit of sanity, but he still takes his time to bottom you out fully.

Once he’s made sure you’re ready, he grabs you by your hair, the stinging feeling on your head making you get up, so your back collides with his firm chest. His mouth ghosts over his ear, but before he speaks, the movements finally start and he begins thrusting into you.

“I fucking knew it– I fucking knew you are just a needy slut for my cock.”

His words echo in your brain and you can’t help but moan to the sound of his voice. You’re about to go completely feral, when he lets go of your strands again, so that you crush onto the mattress.

You fall face first into the pillows, but Minho wastes no time and grabs your neck with his hands to keep you in place.

The other one is busy switching between roughly digging its fingers into your hips or clashing onto your ass, whenever you talk back at him.

The cushion of the pillow underneath you’re laying on is now soaking wet, since you’re drooling all over the fabric.

“Minho– please,” is all you’re able to let out. Minho chuckles at your helplessness, he’s enjoying every moment to finally have you under him, to make you shut up for once while you’re being so good for him.

“Aw, is my dumb little slut already too far away to speak? Are you fucked out already? Didn’t expect you to be that desperate.”

His degrading words switch a flip inside you, there’s no way you’ll make him believe he’s already got you where he wants.

“Please– Minho be rougher or is this all you’ve got for punishing me?”

Slap.

Well, you could have sensed that this question would earn you a stinging sensation on your ass.

“Pathetic little slut, now you’re even begging for punishment? Never expected you to be such a whore for my cock.”

You whine at his words again, as you allow him to thrust into you and when he finds that spot inside you, you’re sure you won’t last that much longer.

Still, you’re not giving up yet. It’s so much more fun to disagree with him, rile him up just to find out what he’s capable of.

“I’m not– not pathetic,” you try to talk back with zero success.

“Well you’re not quite innocent either, doll. Just look at yourself, taking it like the good slut you are.”

Fuck. The combination of his degrading and praising phrases will be the death of you.

“Gonna fuck you as long as it takes me to let only mindless babbling leave your mouth.”

Giggle after giggle escapes your lips at the thought of his goal and Minho wonders if he’s already achieved it.

He has. By the time only moans and the repetition of his name echo through the room, he’s sure he’s been successful with his plan.

“Whose good little whore are you, hm? Who’s making you feel good?”

“Please– need to cum–“

“Nah, you’ve gotta beg for it. Otherwise I’ll slow down.”

And so he does. It makes you go insane. The anticipation is killing you by now and you’re sure you’ve gotta do what you have to do to reach that sweet relief.

“Fuck– yours, Minho, I’m your whore.”

He pick up his pace again, as he pounds into you without mercy. Brushing that spot inside you, his hand disconnects from your neck, so he’s able to graze over your sensitive bundle of nerves again. The sensation eliminates the last piece of resistance and his next words make you tip over the edge.

“Good girl. Go on, I’ve got you.”

You realise now you wouldn’t have been able to hold on any second longer, your vision is blinded by the lights and sparkles erupting in front of your eyes whilst the sensation spreads through your body at lightning speed but stays as long as Minho needs to get to his climax as well.

The overstimulation makes you dizzy, you’re sure you’re about to faint but Minho is quick to pull out of you. By the look of both your liquids spilling out of you, running down your inner thighs just to make a mess on your blanket, he desires nothing more than pushing the juices into your cunt again.

But he refuses when he sees your exhausted frame. You’ve fallen onto your side and giggles still leave your lips as you try to come to your senses. Faster than you’re able to realise, Minho has taken care of you and tucked the both of you under the duvet.

Week 12, March 26th 27th

Motivation: 5/10

General mood: 4/10 7/10

☽

Vicky is lucky her birthday is at the end of May and she’s even luckier you’re offering your apartment for her birthday party, knowing she would do the same if her financial conditions were better.

To quickly check your hair and because of the fact you’ve had too many beers, you left for the bathroom some minutes ago. Also – no need to tell a lie here – being in a room with Macy is something you still have to work on.

Sure, you’re happy she’s happy with Chan and he’s happy with her, but you just don’t seem to get along with her that much. Everything seems forced, every conversation, every sentence, every interaction.

When you get back, all the others are sitting on the couch, chairs and floor, and a big conversation including all guests has started. Well, it probably started while you were away, as you sense they’re already in the middle of a discussion.

“What do you mean? It’s a good thing everyone can dress how they want. Sure, there’s still stuff that needs to improve but I’m glad to live in the present,” Lisa says, keeping eye contact with Chan’s girlfriend.

Chan interferes now too, slightly shifting around in his seat, “She’s right. Like– why would you care what anyone else is wearing? It’s their own decision.”

You sit down next to Minho on the floor and he offers some of his drink, but you decline. The topic they’re debating about is something you need to have all of your focus to participate. 

“Nah, you know. It makes my stomach turn, seeing all these females walk around in these clothes that barely cover anything. No wonder men can’t keep their hands off of them.”

Females. What the actual fuck. You’re a woman yourself, Macy.

There’s no holding back anymore. You have to say something.

“Macy, listen to me. I’m attracted to women as well. I’ve never had the urge to do something like that just because a girl was dressed in a skirt. That’s like saying ‘oh better don’t own any money if you don’t want to get robbed.’”

Macy looks at you, a smirk decorating her face, before she speaks.

“So, how high is your body count?”

Your heart beat gains speed within half a second, it feels like it’s exploding out of your chest, numbing all other senses.

“W-Why are you asking?”

The words have trouble leaving your mouth.

“Oh, I’m just curious. You seem like the type of person to fuck around a lot. Like– look at that short dress, you’re practically begging all the boys in here to bend you over the next surface.”

You wish you were able to react in a somewhat similar way to that Sebastian dude’s comment some weeks ago, but you can’t. You’re simply not capable of it. 

And you spot the difference here – he’s just made an ignorant, almost incel-bullshit comment but what Macy said cuts deep. It cuts deep into your heart, soul and your whole body, everywhere. 

Sebastian’s comment was just the mirror of his ignorance, Macy’s words are personal, they are definitely directed at you in particular. Of course, you get that she views you as competition. But none of this is your fault. Especially not your body count or anything.

And the worst part is – you thought you would maybe get along with her. Also, to finally get over Chan. You sincerely wanted to be happy for the both of them.

But we’ll – she doesn’t seem so nice anymore.

Chan talks back to her but you don’t hear him speak. All unnecessary noises are shut off, so your whole body can concentrate on how to flee this situation.

Everything is happening so fast now, the room is spinning and you’re trying to grab onto something so you don’t fall quite literally.

But then you remember some little detail.

So, you pull at the hem of Minho’s shirt, big eyes stinging with tears staring into his own, searching for help.

“Soonie.”

Minho immediately senses what’s going on and wastes no time standing up from the floor with you. You don’t notice him giving a sign to your other friends, since you’re already on your way out, heading towards the corridor.

Felix and Lisa follow you, but the latter halts in her place before leaving. She turns around on her feet and chuckles to herself, before she enters the doorway.

“Macy, you know,” Lisa starts, her piercing gaze telling the other girl she’s already passed the stage of being on thin ice and has now fallen into a deep pond of dirt.

“If you put your stupid comment on the street and left it there, a truck would come pick it up the next morning because it’s all just garbage.”

You don’t catch Lisa’s words. It’s not that your friend is too far away, it’s simply your head spinning around and your brain buzzing like crazy that drowns out any other noise. At this point, you only sense the beat of your heart and the uncomfortable tingling, close to an itch, that’s creeping all over your skin.

Minho is still holding onto you, pulling you at your waist, as he guides you to your room. He sits you down on your bed, whilst Felix brings you a glass of water. The reassuring words echo through the room, but you don’t hear them.

It takes another few minutes for you to calm down but when Lisa arrives, she kneels in front of you at the edge of the bed and holds your face, staring deeply into your empty eyes.

“Forget what that bitch said, okay? We’re taking care of this, just trust us, okay?”

“I’ve ruined Vicky’s birthday,” you cry out now, tears streaming down your face like Niagara Falls.

“Y/N, stop, literally no one cares. Vicky doesn't even care about that. We all just want to make sure, you’re alright,” she caresses your cheek to swipe away some of the salty droplets.

The boys have taken both your hands in theirs but you’re just now realising. Neither of your friends leave their positions, making sure your breathing gets back at a normal pace.

“Okay,” you quietly whisper as you sense your pulse going down.

“Also,” Felix starts, “that bitch doesn’t know you, okay? She can’t judge you on any number. Nobody can, in fact. It honestly doesn’t matter.”

You turn your head around to look at him, before he pulls you into a hug, hand caressing the back of your head while he places a short but gentle kiss on your cheek.

“She doesn’t know your story, she doesn’t know your background. And even if nothing of this was connected to a response to your trauma, it still wouldn’t matter.”

You’ve told Lisa and Felix that Minho knows about what happened. It’s comfortable to be around people who always do the best in making you feel secure and safe.

The conversation subsides, at this point you’re all basically a big fluff ball of cuddling friends but it’s helping you.

“What do you need now? What has helped you on New Year’s Eve?” Lisa asks, as she gets up from the floor.

“You guys noticed?”

You’re sincerely surprised they remember you leaving the kitchen right after the clock struck midnight.

“Yes, we did but we don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,” Felix makes sure there’s no pressure behind any of their words.

“Okay,” you say again to indicate you’re comfortable but will most definitely speak about this some other time.

“So, what do you need for now?” Felix asks again, dearly wanting you to feel better.

You snap your head around again, until your eyes meet those of the boy sitting on your other side. He looks at you with hopeful eyes, contemplating if he should say something or if there’s anything he needs to say out loud for you.

“Minho.”

The boy in question has his gaze still fixated on your face as your eyes meet. His face softens and he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, pulling you into a warm hug.

“We’re gonna leave the two of you alone. Just tell us, if there’s something you need,” Felix insists before he walks out of your room with Lisa, leaving the door slightly agape.

“Please, just help me forget all of this.”

The words leave your lips faster than you would have realised and Minho is visibly surprised about your eagerness. He’d be lying if he said he expected you to make a move now.

But you just want to forget. You want to get your mind off of any of this and he knows exactly how to do it.

“You sure you want that? We don’t have to…”

Stop being so considerate, I’m doing fine.

His hands roaming all over your body, touching you in the right places until he makes you see stars, his name the only word you remember, is all you long for.

“I want to. Unless you don’t.”

The idea of Minho pounding into you mercilessly is all you crave right now. He’s helped you forget about your sorrows so many times before, it’s the only thing you want on your mind.

“I do. I always do.”

☽

Chan curses himself for not realising earlier. He curses himself for not perceiving all the red flags, hitting his head all the time like a bright neon sign. 

But what causes that stinging pain to enlighten the most is the fact he’s betrayed you. Not in a way he’s had something going on with someone else – after all he’s seen the aftermath of you and Minho going to your bedroom on New Year’s Eve.

He betrayed you by bringing this specific woman to your apartment. Macy and Chan haven’t really talked about deep topics before and there’s never been a point in their relationship – if you can even title it like this – when he’s believed this could be something for the long run.

Still, this doesn’t excuse him letting this girl get near you when he at least had been suspicious about her view on certain issues.

Chan has never cared about Macy not being as open as you are in bed, he’s the last one to judge and would never cross anybody's boundaries. Up until now he was convinced she may be a bit shy when it comes to intimate interaction but the conversation you all had earlier changed his whole perspective about his now ex-girlfriend.

Yes, his ex.

The minute you left the kitchen with the others and especially entangled in Minho’s arms (another thing he curses himself for – that it wasn’t him to help you out of this situation), he was taking Macy aside to have a little talk in his bedroom, already knowing what this would lead to.

Maybe, this was just the last little push he’s needed, the icing on this cake made of bullshit that he calls the relationship with her now.

He should have seen it coming. But Chan was too desperate to finally have someone, even if it wasn’t you. He was happy to have someone on his side, even if it wasn’t you. Chan was relieved to be with someone, even if it wasn’t you.

Now he’s realising, the way she’s spoken should have ring the alarm but the boy was too busy hitting that snooze button for god knows how many times.

The way Macy has spoken about other women, sometimes not about you in particular, sometimes about you in particular. Of course, it’s not easy for a girlfriend to find out that her partner doesn’t only live with people of the opposite sex but that he's also had a past with one of the roommates.

But even if Chan was still in love with you (which he for sure isn’t, okay!) it would have never been your fault in the first place. You’re not the one to blame that Chan is– was having all these feelings for you.

And last but not least, there was never a reason for Macy to shame you like that. To talk about you like that. To make you feel so small in a place you should feel comfortable in.

Who would have ever thought Macy and Ben would make the perfect couple?

So, Chan decides to slowly count down from ten to zero, hoping to gain enough confidence to enter your room.

Ten

He gets second guesses if it’s the right timing for speaking to you but there’s no way out of this situation now, he’ll probably never get such a chance again.

Nine, Eight, Seven

Chan’s palms are sweaty, his knees weak and threatening to make him lose his balance – all just because of you.

Six, Five, Four

Most of the guests have left by now, the apartment is getting quieter by every second. He’s already looking forward to getting some rest before he needs to do this overdue assignment for his uni course tomorrow.

Three

Chan can still taste the cheap beer on his tongue he had hours later. He will definitely not buy this one again.

Two

The tapestry on the walls should be renewed soon. Perhaps, the next vacation weeks after the semester could be a good time for that.

One

The door closes with a loud clicking sound, indicating another guest has left, now probably lurching home.

Let’s Go.

Your bedroom door is slightly ajar, a sign you both have used before to show the other one it’s okay to enter.

So Chan carefully approaches your bedroom, until one of his feet stands on the doorstep, ready to enter.

But then he sees the last thing he’s ever needed to see.

His hands on your body.

Minho’s hands on your precious skin, towering over you, as you allow him to attach his lips on yours.

His stupid friend’s body all over his other friend he’s still secretly in love with, if he’s honest.

Stupid Minho’s body all over Y/N’s.

Channie’s Y/N.

He halts in place for a bit, trying to get air in his lungs again. He breathes in, as he slowly turns away. The last thing he’d want now is for you to notice he’s caught you with his friend.

Creek.

For a second Chan senses his demise is within reach.

You’ve definitely noticed. 

You must have heard him.

But you haven’t.

And he realises he's not the source of the noise. 

Instead, it’s Vicky standing right in front of him, a purple spot under her eye and a bloody abrasion decorating her nose.

“Oh god– Vicky, are you okay? What the hell happened?!” 

He gets a bit closer, wanting to make sure his friend isn’t severely injured. Also, from this position he stands far away from your bedroom.

“Ugh– nothing bad. You know, I just don’t like when people treat my friends like shit. Especially not on my birthday. Then they’ll get a bittersweet taste of my revenge, that’s all.”

Chan gulps, slowly realising what’s going on.

“Wait until you see your girlfriend's face. Matches mine, kinda cute, isn’t it?”

She gets a bit closer to Chan now, grabbing him by his collar. His heart is beating out of his chest and he’s convinced Vicky notices it. If she doesn’t, his shocked face will betray him.

“Also, don’t you ever bring Macy to your apartment or anywhere close to Y/N again, alright?”

The blonde nods at her demand, sweating heavily. 

“No need for that, Vicky, I’ve already broken up with her and told her to piss off.”

In the blink of an eye, Vicky’s whole demeanour switches and she’s back to being all friendly as she lets go of Chan’s shirt.

“Great. See you, then!”

She waves goodbye and he observes her in the distance, still trying to understand what has just happened.

Some minutes later, Chan goes to his room, knowing for sure he won’t be able to get any rest tonight.

After all, he’s booked a night at the heartbreak hotel again.

Guest’s Name: Bang Christopher Chan

Week 1, May 21st

Sleep: 2/10

General mood: 3/10

🖇 TAGLIST: @heelover5 @chimmycupcake @avyskai @angellixie @svintsandghosts @lachinitaaaaa @drrramaaaqweeen @septicrebel @chrissybang @hugs4chan @brit97 @choxcosmos

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

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SURFIN’ (18+!)

SYNOPSIS: It’s been two exhausting years, so you’re glad to finally fully reopen your family’s restaurant. Especially, since your childhood friend Felix always visits you for the summer. But unfortunately you haven’t reckoned with his friend staying there as well, annoying the hell out of you by teaching his surfing courses exactly in front of your restaurant.

🐚 GENRE: nonidol!au, enemies2lovers, smut, fluff (I guess but definitely no angst in this one – I know, unbelievable)

☀ WORD COUNT: 7.1k

🏝 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab!reader, bartender!reader, surfcoach!chan, enemy!chan, childhoodfriend!felix, felix and chan are coworkers, reader is still attending university

🍸 WARNING: alcohol consumption, brief mention of pandemic, jealousy (both chan and reader)

🫧 SMUT WARNING: dom!chan, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, unprotected sex (pls don’t be stupid), marking, slight choking, breast play, praise, possessive behaviour (chan), name calling (heavy use of babygirl – it is a chan fic after all, doll, good girl and brat once), exhibitionism (idk they’re on the beach but no one witnesses them)

🐬 AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my post for @skzseasons “hot dom summer”! I had a lot of fun writing this one so I hope the tags will work :/ pls keep in mind English isn’t my first language. If you’ve enjoyed this fic, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated 💙 also can we talk about how tall chan looks in that pic

🌊 spotify playlist 🏄🏻

The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Also minors do not interact, this post contains mature themes. By clicking on “read more” you consent to nsfw content.

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“Can I get anything else for you?” The group of young people, seemingly here on vacation, shakes their heads in unison to your question. It’s not as busy as usual, the lowering temperatures are definitely responsible for that – overnight the air has dropped by almost ten degrees.

On one hand, you’re glad to get some time to yourself. Days on which the beach bar is full of people drain you out the most. On the other hand, it’s bad not having as many customers as expected and already calculated for the summer.

It’s a family business after all and even though you’re just here during university vacation, your parents really need every cent they can get considering inflation and your college degree. If this wasn’t stressful enough, you need to add another year of studying. So you really need the money.

Your mum and dad both told you not to worry about it, but you see it every time in their eyes whenever someone mentions any financial topic. They’re practically on the verge of bankruptcy, over two years of a pandemic have left wounds on their beloved restaurant and everything they have created over nearly twenty years. And it shows.

As if it was yesterday, you fully remember the first time taking a step on the wooden floor of the beach bar. Back then, it was barely considered a building, as the place consisted of ruins – prefabricated components, wooden slats and a cover made out of moist straw that wasn’t anything near something called a ‘roof’.

So, they’ve invested everything they had, every last cent, into ‘Levanter’ – a word you’d made up at the ripe age of three. You can’t remember what it was supposed to be. Still, you remember explaining that the tone of the syllables sounds exactly like the waves of the ocean when they hit the shore. You’ve always been a creative brain, making up scenarios and the wildest ideas in your head – up until this day.

That’s exactly the reason why your mind keeps drifting away at any chance it gets. The same counts for now, your brain once again occupied by your little thoughts about life, when two new customers sit down at the table closest to the ocean.

“Where’s my favourite bartender?” 

The familiar voice causes your head to snap in the direction of its source, the deep tone instantly to be recognised. “Felix!” You shout, already making your way to the human version of the sunshine that’s hiding today. A wide smile is erupting all over your face, grinning from ear to ear.

What a surprise. You really haven’t expected your childhood friend to come back so early this year.

To be fair, you ran out of touch some time ago. It’s been half a decade since you’ve graduated high school. Felix moved away to another country for his computer science degree while you’ve stayed here, studying tourism economics at the local college.

But it’s become a tradition that every summer the both of you meet here. From time to time he brings his cousin Minho with him who’s at the same time a kind soul who’s offered him a roof over his head in Seoul and has helped him feel welcomed in that foreign place.

Minho has visited your hometown twice, both summers before the pandemic and even though he seems intriguing to most people, you’ve gotten along quite well.

When you finally reach the table Felix is sitting at, you notice another guy right beside him, his face not visible to you. For a second you hope it’s Minho again but the blonde curls aren’t familiar.

“What can I get for you?”

It’s not Minho, you can definitely tell now.

“What? No greeting? No hugging?”

Sometimes Felix sounds like a weird nice-guy captured inside a nerd’s body and he doesn’t even realise. Luckily, you know he’s nothing like that at all so you just chuckle at his request, waiting for him to get up.

His scent lingers in your nose once you both embrace each other, glad to finally be together again. Abruptly, Felix pulls away once he realises he hasn’t introduced his other friend yet.

“Oh god– my bad. Y/N, this is Chan. He’s a friend from college and now my coworker. Chan, this is Y/N. We went to kindergarten and school together.”

Chan gives you a warm smile, his curls are hiding a bit of his face but it makes him look like a golden retriever.

“Oh, wow. You’ve known each other for so long, that’s so cool.”

The first impression this new guy gives you isn’t that bad either and you hope you’ll get along with him as well. Obviously, because he’s a good friend of Felix’s. Not because he’s so cute.

“Yes. Felix is my oldest friend,” you tell him until something else comes to your mind, “but wait– I’m not that busy but how about I first get the both of you something to drink?”

The boys appreciate your hospitality and a few minutes later, you bring them their order.

“You guys work together?” Your question is supposed to fill the awkward silence and you’re glad about the fact it’s still not busy at this moment. Your friend offers you to sit down, which you do.

“We work at the same company and graduated this month. Still feels so weird to be an adult.” You chuckle at Chan’s sentence. “And you’re working here full time?”

“Only during summer. It’s my parent’s place. I study tourism economics and I’ll be in my last year soon.”

Chan nods interestedly while taking a sip from his drink.

“It’s probably good to let your brain get a break from all the stress. Believe me, we’re definitely exhausted as well,” Felix reassures you just like he's always had.

“Yeah, I can imagine. It must be pretty wearying to jump right into a job after finishing your degree. Especially with computer science.”

“If you ever have some free time and want to try something fun,” Chan begins and for a second you hold your breath – why is this insanely attractive dude offering something like that – “I can sign you up for my surfing course here that I’ll be coaching.”

Okay. We’re gonna take back every positive thought we’ve had about him.

A surfing course.

In your hometown.

Coached by him.

Is he just clumsy or blatantly rude?

“What makes you guess I don’t know how to surfe?”

Chan’s mouth falls agape once he realises what he’s just said. The boy is committing a blunder after another when he’s trying to coax the situation, palpably making everything worse.

“I–I don’t know, you must be busy with everything. I just didn’t expect you to be into surfing, that’s all.”

The blonde doesn’t actually believe you’re not capable of doing this type of sport. It’s just – he’d be lying if he didn’t say he finds you attractive. But Chan has always had the issue to become shy in such situations and his conversations always turn awkward soon.

“Because of what? I don’t look like it? Am I not athletic enough?” You provoke him now, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you sit back on your chair.

“No– that’s not what I– I’ve been surfing for my whole life so you see– I’m very experienced– I was just trying to be nice–“

Your scoff cuts him off. “Ah, sure. You can try your little pickup line next time with an actual tourist.”

As if all your prayers have been heard, right at this moment a group of people enters the restaurant, allowing you to excuse yourself from the table the boys are sitting. Felix hushes a quick ‘goodbye’ after you but you’re only waving at him.

♡

Monday starts with – luckily – way more guests entering the bar, alone at breakfast hours you’re as busy as you haven’t been the whole past week. Temperatures are rising again and summer vacation for students at school has finally started. The place is crowded to say the least but you’re enjoying it. Enjoying getting in contact with customers again, enjoying mixing the fancy drinks and enjoying seeing your parents happy about the increasing income. 

But the more hours pass by and once brunch time is finally over, the more this tiny specific detail is slowly getting on your nerves.

The detail being none other than Chan.

His job has started as well, he’s mostly occupied during the afternoon since that’s when mainly children and teenagers are attending his course. 

There wouldn’t be any big problem with it, it’s only a surfing course after all, but for whoever the hell knows he’s decided to teach those people right in front of your restaurant.

As anyone can imagine, this does wonders to the volume around here. Noisy. This is definitely the best word to describe the general atmosphere. 

You’re sincerely getting worried it will scare the customers away, after all you’re not the only restaurant around in this touristic area of the beach. So when you notice him having a minute to himself, the children he’s currently teaching are busy with preparing the next exercise, you decide to do something about it.

Laying the towel aside, since you’re working at the bar this afternoon, you head towards him. The blonde is unaware of you, judging from his surprised face once you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi, Chan. I just wanted to ask– you know, maybe you could do your course over there or somewhere else?” You point at a less crowded area on the beach.

The boy just chuckles and looks down on you, crossing his arms in front of his chest and you’re glad he's wearing a tank top. After all, it's only the first day of teaching this class and you’re glad about that. To be fair, you’re having a hard time focusing on anything else than his muscular arms here.

But you would never admit that. Chan is annoying. He has been since he’s asked you to join his surfing class and you would have forgiven him by now, but the fact he’s indirectly shushing customers away doesn’t make it any easier for him.

Still, this hypothesis has to be proven right. You’re open about giving him another chance.

“Why would I?”

Hypothesis proven right. 

“Because there’s literally enough space anywhere else and you’re driving off the potential customers.”

He sarcastically chuckles at your demand.

“Yeah. Like I’d care.”

With this statement he turns around again, telling the children to gather around as he continues his teaching session.

Some days pass by without even half a second of calmness from the storm – also known as surfcoach Chan. He’s really getting on your nerves and it doesn’t help that Felix isn’t that much available, busy with working remotely.

Your friend even suggested that you accept that offer to attend the course, leaving you completely dumbfounded. How dare he? Sometimes it annoys you, that Felix always tries to be the friendliest person in the room, afraid to pick sides.

It wasn’t a big deal in the beginning. You’re embarrassed you’re even making such a fuss about all this but events are accumulating.

So today you finally have thought everything would be a bit better, a bit more relaxed. Chan is out of sight, that’s why you choose to spend your lunch break at the beach with an iced coffee you’ve made at the restaurant. Luckily, you find a free spot since it’s one of those cloudier days again.

Taking a deep breath, you allow the summer breeze to touch your skin, as you close your eyes and immerse yourself into the moment. 

Calmness.

That’s what you deserve and are finally getting. After these few days of noise, arguing with Chan over work stuff, hoping the fights themselves won’t scare costumes away, you're finally getting some time to relax. You’ve deserved it.

Splash.

You’re stirred from your daydreaming when cold droplets of water hit your upper arms, making you open your eyes abruptly.

“Oops,” you hear from beside you, only a few meters away.

Snapping your head around in disbelief, no other than Chan stands in your vision now, a mischievous smirk decorating his face.

Choosing to ignore it – possibly it wasn’t his fault, after all he’s teaching a surfing course which involves water – you take a step back and continue enjoying your break.

But Chan isn’t satisfied with your decision, that’s why he instructs his students to move places until they’re exercising and practicing right in front of the space you’re sitting now.

And the worst part is – his students are finally confident and skilled enough to get into the water alone, even though he still responsibly bats an eye on them.

But the problem that comes with this is – Chan is going in the water as well.

In his swimming trunks.

Without a shirt on.

It is anything but relaxing to try focusing on something else when he’s looking this good. Of course, you’ve already expected it but actually witnessing his firm chest and abs – slightly wet since he’s just been in the water – is your personal nightmare at the moment.

To your own disaster, he catches a glimpse of your eyes trailing his body. Blood instantly rushes to your head, embarrassment is plastered all over your face.

Exit.

There’s no other way out than deciding your lunch break is over right at that second. That’s why you stand up and stumble away, almost dripping over your own feet.

But you wouldn’t be Y/N, if you weren’t already planning a pretty little act of revenge in your head.

♡

The best possibility to get back at Chan is defeating him with his own weapons – meaning, you’ll annoy him just as he does, particularly when he’s trying to take a break from tutoring.

After picking and putting on your most revealing swimwear, you approach him on the beach where he’s currently sitting, sipping on his bottle of water, possibly taking his lunch break. Completely unaware of his surroundings, the blonde is deeply focused on how the waves move and hit the shore.

Until you’re standing in his vision, painfully slowly taking the first steps into the water, acting as if you haven’t noticed him. Deciding to torture him a bit more – with your own weapons of your body – you firstly dip in the sea, before swimming a bit further until you’re completely covered in the salt water.

You take a deep breath and dive a bit, so your hair gets a chance to get wet as well. Still, you blame the positive side effect of feeling refreshed to be your intention for all these actions.

Turning around again, you head towards the beach, instantly catching Chan staring at you. His jaw clenches, when he observes you from your front – your chest glistening because of the water, tits almost falling out of the way too tiny bikini top that you’ve chosen for this specific reason.

Chan’s gaze is fixated on your every move, hands balled into fists as he desperately tries to grip the sand beside him. 

Whilst leaving the water, you wring the water out of your hair, before seductively throwing the strands behind your back. In the process, some droplets splash in his direction, making him shift his position.

“Oops,” he hears you say, as you’re slowly approaching him.

“I’m sorry I made you wet.”

A wink is added to your sentence and Chan is furious. His blood is boiling like crazy and he’s severely anxious his increasing problem inside his swimming trunks will become visible if you don’t stop anytime soon.

To his luck, you decide that’s enough to provoke him and you leave the area he’s sitting at.

But there’s no way he’ll admit his defeat yet.

This is only the beginning and a checkmate isn’t within reach yet – for neither of you.

♡

The next days consist of nothing else then riling each other up in the most desperate ways. Even Felix senses it – he even suggests the two of you to just ‘fuck the tension out’ but neither of you want to let the other win.

Today isn’t any different, you’re busy at the bar as usual, chatting with a few guests here and there until your eyes spot a specific scene on the beach.

Long blonde hair waving through the wind, she approaches Chan, definitely aware about the fact he’s at least ten years younger than her. 

Observing the scene from afar, you keep telling yourself you don’t care about it.

That’s why you focus on every detail.

Because you don’t care.

You really don’t.

They’ve passed the greeting part already, she’s whispering syllables in his ear, leaning closer every time she’s finished a sentence. A giggle leaves her lips a few times and Chan’s smile awakens.

But you don’t care.

He points at the surfboard behind him, probably explaining he’s a coach just taking his lunch break and waiting for the next shift. Afternoon hours means he’ll be busy with teenager groups again. That’s what you’ve noticed over the weeks by now.

But you don’t care.

She nudges his upper arm lightly, eyes getting closer when she starts acting all so surprised about his muscular body. It’s not as if her eyes have been glued to his chest instead of his eyes for the last minutes. Definitely not.

But you don’t care.

Her fingers stay on his arm, he giggles at every joke she has to offer. Chan’s gaze flickers to you, blatantly aware of your little inspection and if you wouldn’t be that occupied with staring at where both their bodies connect, you would have noticed.

But you wouldn’t care anyway, right?

The daydreaming gets interrupted once your mum starts calling you, asking you to get more lemons from the storage room and so you do as you’re told.

Now out of sight, the woman is still speaking to Chan but his demeanor has switched since he’s realised you’re gone.

“Listen,” he starts, leaning a bit closer to the blonde, “I really enjoy talking to you but I should have told you earlier. I’m not interested in that way, my heart already belongs to someone else.”

He cringes at his own words but doesn’t mind, the elder woman will probably find him even more adorable now. The sweet talk threatens to get to her head but she stays respectful, waving him goodbye before she continues strolling around at the beach.

Rummaging around in the dusty boxes your parents keep in the basement, you search for the fruits. The simple task doesn’t really keep you distracted.

The more you search for the lemons, the more you forget what you’re looking for.

The more you try to focus on something else, the more your brain comes back to these thoughts.

The more seconds pass by, the more you realise you can’t get him out of your mind.

God, damn it, Y/N, you curse to yourself.

He’s been nothing but an asshole over these past few weeks. There’s no reason he’s possessing your whole existence with the looks he gives you whenever you talk back at him. There’s no reason he’s making your heart flutter. There's no reason you waste time on thinking about him. 

Maybe you do care after all.

♡

The bass is already roaring in your ears, the music itself is not that good but you’re sure a couple of shots will do to get you in a fitting mood. Still on your way to find your friends, you head to the bar, ready for the first drink of the night. While waiting in line after ordering – the bartender is quite cute so you make a mental note to yourself to go back to him, his name tag reading ‘Jeongin’ – you grab your phone from your tiny purse. 

No calls from either of your friends make you a bit suspicious, but you decide to just reach out to them yourself. Patiently waiting for the ringing sound once you’ve dialled Felix’s number, there’s a lack of the noise you’re expecting, indicating there’s no connection.

Once Jeongin has served your beverage of choice, you thank him with a wink and leave the area of the bar, aimlessly strolling around to find your friends. Cursing yourself for wearing shoes at a beach party, even though they’re just simple plateau sandals, you’re getting tired of making your way through the crowd of people.

Suddenly, you spot a head with bleached hair, sensing it must be Felix. But when you start heading towards your goal, another person cuts off your path and everything happens in the blink of an eye. Only a few seconds pass before the liquid from your cocktail spills all over the stranger’s white button shirt, leaving the fabric all wet.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you instantly blurt out, knowing for a fact it was your fault since you haven’t paid enough attention to your surroundings. Ready for a session of getting scolded by this rather handsome tall man, you’re preparing yourself to get the waterworks going, hoping a little crying session will make the outcome of the situation less harsh.

But there’s no need to do so, the stranger immediately realises you didn’t do it on purpose, so now, ironically, he’s the one to calm you down.

“Hey, don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s alright. It happens. You can just make it up to me by buying two new drinks for the both of us, alright?”

His sudden proposition catches you off guard, there’s just too much information within his few phrases. But his beauty and seductive words are instantly getting to your head, so you sheeply nod and guide him back towards the bar.

When reaching the area you’ve just come from again, he orders two beers for the both of you – explaining it’s a bit more complicated to spill the beverages since the liquid is filled into bottles – before paying.

“No– let me get that, I’m the one who’s made you wet,” you interrupt him in his actions of taking out his wallet, not even realising what words you’ve chosen.

“And I’m the one who’s planning to make you wet as well, so allow me to invite you first, princess,” he chuckles, adding a wink to his sentence.

Blood instantly rushes up high to your head, eyes opening wide at his suggestion. He’s direct. Very direct.

You’re not sure yet if you like it. But you decide to play along when you spot the familiar blonde curls again, waiting at the bar that you’ve been at merely seconds ago.

The tall, handsome man turns out to be Hyunjin, a painter who’s come to your hometown’s beach for inspiration. Given his first impression, you’ve expected him to guide you to the next available bathroom so you’re more than impressed when he tells you all about his adventures instead, slowly getting to know you first.

He’s even showing you some of his pieces of art. There’s something about them that makes you want to dive in those landscapes he’s illustrated. The way the colours play together reminds you of the moonlight enlightening the bar and it’s good to focus on something else for a moment.

After another drink – you’re still not allowed to pay – Hyunjin invites you to dance, all romantically and you’re not sure yet if he’s just trying to flirt or if that’s how he always acts. But you don’t want to pay more attention to these questions, so you just decide to go with the flow, just like the waves not far away from the venue.

It turns out Hyunjin isn’t only creative when it comes to painting and drawing, he’s also talented in dancing. While you’re swaying to the rhythm of the music, he’s standing right behind you, his hips’ movements synchronising with yours.

What do they say about dancers and their hips again?

You feel yourself getting lost in all the actions, particularly when he lays his hands on your waist and guides you through the rhythm. A breeze lingers on your ear and for a moment you believe he might kiss you.

Until you spot a pair of eyes at the other side of the dance floor, watching every move you make. The person who they belong to isn’t busy with getting a drink at the bar anymore. All alone, he’s just standing there, observing you from afar.

Noticing Chan’s jaw is clenched, you try to focus on the handsome man with the long hair behind you again.

It only takes the tall one touching your hips for another time, that Chan makes his way through the crowd at a lighting’s speed. Once he’s standing in front of you, he doesn’t give Hyunjin even half a second to rethink what’s going on, before he shushes him away.

Harshly grabbing you by your wrist, he leads you away from the party, as you stumble behind him. Reaching his preferred destination of a quiet part at the beach, he finally lets go of your now reddened skin.

“What the fuck was that?!”

You finally manage to let out your words so loud that would have been noticeable to all the guests if the music wasn’t blasting that much.

“I should be asking you the same question.”

He leaves you speechless once again – that man has the audacity to search for the mistake in your behavior?

“Chan stop getting on my nerves with all your bullshit, stop the bickering already.”

Your words leave a harsh sting and he senses it. The blonde wishes to be able to be truthful with you but instead his intrusive thoughts take over him.

“Fucking brat, stop yourself– you’re the annoying one here.”

You respond nothing to his sentences, only scoffing at the phrases. Chan starts heading back to the party, leaving you there alone. 

Why is he bringing you here just to leave you standing a minute later?

What is wrong with him?

There’s a simple answer to this rhetorical question – you make him lose his mind, make him go insane, make him forget any logic.

Deciding to stay where you are for a while, not wanting to awkwardly get back to the party, you get rid of your dress and tiptoe into the ocean. You’re glad now you’ve chosen to wear a bikini underneath the thin fabric that’s now met the sand.

Suddenly, Chan halts in place and turns back around once more, a new idea coming to his mind. 

“Do you ever wonder why I get this way? Maybe it’s– ugh, never mind.”

His words stop again as soon as they’ve started. 

The poor boy hasn’t added you standing in the water half naked into his calculations, making him lose his voice.

Then a realisation hits your mind, making you envision him in a new much different light, especially when you notice his eyes trailing down your body. 

“No way– you’re actually jealous.”

“Tell that to yourself! I saw you observing me some days ago at the beach talking to that blonde.”

His accusations do nothing to you considering he’s doing such a bad job at hiding his attraction to you. Especially since he recognises the familiar clothing.

“No, I just didn’t expect you to be into milfs.”

Still, your own words aren’t that truthful either, Chan is not the only one that has been playing hide and seek, threatened now to be found and caught.

“Cut the crap, Y/N, I know exactly what’s going on in your head.”

“Yeah? What is it then?”

“Me. The thought of my body all over yours is what’s been keeping you distracted these days, isn’t it?”

Your jaw clenches in an attempt to gain some time to think about an answer, but Chan immediately takes notes of your fragility.

“Ah, yeah. Cat got your tongue? Thought so.”

His scoff echoes through the air, his muscular arms are still crossed in front of his chest.

“T-Those are all lies. I’m not thinking about you ever,” you bluff. 

“What about your eyes glued on my face while you were grinding your ass against this dude’s crotch? Admit it, you’re craving my attention.”

At this point you’re unable to ignore the sight of his dark eyes burning with passion, lust filled as they stare right at you, still you’re holding onto the last piece of resistance when you deny his statement.

“I’m not craving your attention.”

As if he’s surfin’ your deepest thoughts, the ideas of what he wants to do to you hit you like the waves crashing on the cliffs far away from the beach you’re currently at.

It’s like a match of chess the both of you are playing, you’re the last remaining game piece on the board, doomed to be defeated. His dark eyes drill through your skull and they would have pinned you to the next wall if you both weren’t standing in the open sea.

“Sure, then what was that strolling around in that bikini,” he points at the fabric, “during my lunch break? Were you trying to rile me up, huh? Waiting for me to snap and take you there in front of all the people?”

His words instantly shoot straight down to your core and you can already feel your bikini getting sticky, arousals leaking and dripping into the fabric.

“What’s with that look on your face now, doll?”

His provocation and the casually added name at the end of his question sends that tingling passion right to where you need him the most again.

Catching your eyes flickering down to his lips is enough to make him smirk.

Check.

He’s got you right where he wants you.

Sick and tired of acting all tough, you finally know what you crave – that fervent touch, his hands roaming all over your body in the dim moonlight.

So you let him.

You finally let him place his lips on yours, there’s no hiding anymore. 

And it’s so much softer than the whole fight that has been going on. One could say, the kiss equals the atmosphere around you.

It’s a scene common for oil paintings, the different pigments and shades dancing together. The sky meets the sea and the sea meets your bodies, tightly entwined.

His plump lips dance with yours, your hips being gripped by his big hands, pulling you closer. For a second, you get aware of the waves splashing against your knees but Chan pulls you out of your thoughts when his tongue grazes over your upper lips, asking for entrance.

The movements grow in passion, your fingers find their way to the back of his head, blonde curls being played with. Every cell of your body screams desire, your surroundings blurring out because of the way his tongue twirls with yours.

In the blink of an eye, he guides you further away from the shore until the water level reaches your upper tights, but still not enough to hide your outfit.

His fingers start wandering down your hips until they meet your ass. While giving the soft flesh a squeeze, Chan chuckles against your lips before he relocates the passionate attacks to your neck.

You let out a small moan once he decides a flowery purple pattern right there would suit you best, the kisses and bites making you lose the last piece of resistance that’s captured in your mind.

So you let it free.

Just like all the tension that’s been going on.

“Should have done this way sooner, don’t you think, babygirl?”

Chan’s words startle you because for a second you believe he’s just read your thoughts. But at this point it wouldn’t surprise you. He’s buried himself so deep into your mind, you’d allow him anything at this point.

Unexpectedly, he guides the both of you back to the beach again, as Chan has decided he’d prefer to have you between him and the sandy ground, a desire that has been haunting his mind since the first time you spoke back at him when you met at the bar.

Even though you allow him to place you there, your back meeting the gritty material, you’re still convinced he’s not on the finishing straight yet.

Your thesis begs to differ when his fingers wander down your chest, unlacing your bikini top – you curse yourself for wearing this specific piece again that always makes it so easy – your tits now on full display for him.

His hands grab one of your breasts roughly, squeezing and massaging it while his lips are busy working on the purple artwork located on your neck.

That’s when you let out a tiny whimper, almost unnoticeable as the waves continue hitting the shore. Still, Chan is able to notice.

“What was that?” Chan smirks. “N-Nothing,” is all you can breathe out in this situation.

His mouth starts wandering south now, switching places with his fingers around your breast. Soft licks cause your back to arch in pleasure but Chan is quick to hold you in place when his hand finds your throat, carefully applying pressure to the side.

“Look at yourself. Keep denying all my assumptions. We both know you’re lying.”

When his hand leaves your neck again, painfully slowly traveling down your curves until it lands between your upper thighs, nothing but pure desire flows through your veins.

It’s clear to say you can’t hold back anymore, every cell of your body is possessed by none other than the man towering over you by now. Especially, when he pushes the rest of your clothes aside – the already soaked bikini panties that haven’t covered that much anyway.

Still, you’re trying to gather those little pieces of strength that slumber inside you, hoping to turn the hierarchy around.

“I hope you d-don’t think you’re w-winning this fight just b-because of what’s h-happening right n-now.”

It’s pathetic almost, how the words escape your lips, stuttered out with the help of the remaining sanity you still own.

“There’s never been an actual fight. At least not from my perspective,” he chuckles under his breath, his fingers softly grazing over your wet folds.

“Just face it, doll. Give in. It’s useless. You’re practically dripping for me.”

So you do as you’re told.

Forgetting about your pride, you allow him everything you’ve both craved for so long and you soon realize you should have let him much earlier.

In the blink of an eye, two of his fingers slide inside you effortlessly – thanks to all the riled up tension – which makes you spread your legs for him so obediently. The pace starts slow – way too slow for your liking but you decide against complaining.

“Exactly, just like that,” he praises you. His lips are attached to your jar and neck again, working a bit on his masterpiece until they make their way down – passing your collarbones, your breasts, your belly button just before they land on your lower tummy.

Suddenly, he pulls his digits out of you, just so his mouth can continue the process of making you lose your mind completely. Instantly finding your bundle of nerves, his tongue draws circles around your clit. You allow yourself to soak in every moment and, rather suddenly, your breath hitches when his fingers enter your heat again, this time at an increased speed.

For a second, his mouth disconnects from where you need him the most and dark eyes filled with the utmost amount of lust are staring right into your soul. A suppressed moan manages to leave your lips and Chan instantly catches on it, a smirk again on his face, still visible in the moonlight. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks, a chuckle added to his question.

“Chan, come on, keep going,” you whine.

“Nah, babygirl, need you to beg for it. Only good girls deserve to cum and I’m not convinced yet.”

“In your dreams,” you scoff under your breath, positioning your upper body on the back of your forearms.

“Well if that’s the case– I’m just gonna get back to the party.”

He points at the neon lights far in the distance, sitting on his lower legs now. 

“Chan– wait,” you cry out pathetically when he gives the impression he’s gonna leave at any second. In desperation, you grab the hem of his shirt, threatening to slide your fingers under the fabric.

“Just one little word and I’m all yours, babygirl.”

His seduction continues with soft kisses and the anticipation is killing you by now, that’s for sure.

Fuck it.

There’s no reason to fight it anymore.

“Chan– I’m begging you,” you cry out in eagerness.

“Begging for what exactly, doll?”

At this point his mischievous smile isn’t even bothering you anymore, you just want him to do whatever. To keep going. To make you feel good.

“I need you–“

But now he’s the one continuing to provoke some more.

“You sure you want me? Not the guy you had been dancing with earlier?”

He’s the only one you should be making these sounds for after all.

The new possessive behaviour of him makes your head buzz, your brain by now so dizzy it feels as if the world is spinning around.

“For fuck’s sake– want your hands all over my body, want your lips on mine, want you to make me scream your name– yes, I want you.”

He leans a bit closer to your ear, still trying to distract himself from his pants getting tighter and more uncomfortable because of what’s about to happen next.

“You could have just said please, babygirl.”

Unbelievable.

“Chan– please, just fuck me.”

Checkmate.

And so he does. In less than ten seconds, he’s got rid of his shirt but there's no time to solely admire his firm chest. He pulls his pants down far enough so he’s able to free his cock – already hardened and the head glistening with his precum.

In an instant, his tip is playing with your entrance, mixing your juices over it and teasing your clit once more, before he pushes his length inside you. Immediately, your walls clench around him and whilst Chan is busy finding a comfortable position to stabilize himself on top of you, you’re getting used to the feeling.

“Everything okay?” He asks now and it’s for the first time he’s so careful with you.

“Yes– please, just keep going,” you encourage him and so he does.

He starts with thrusting into you slowly, always making sure your gaze is fixated on his eyes and whenever you close your own, he makes sure to correct your posture by guiding his index finger under your chin.

Chan has you squirming under his touch and he’s aware. The way you’re staring at him, mouth slightly agape so your moans are able to escape, makes him lose his mind right here and now.

“Fuck– Chan,” is all you’re able to cry out and you’re convinced you’re about to faint, when he positions one of your legs over his broad shoulder. With this new ankle, he hits that spot just so deliciously. 

While he’s burying his face in your neck – a rather unsuccessful attempt to keep going a bit longer – you suck on the skin right under his jaw, deciding to leave your own personal autograph there as well.

Two can play this game of possessiveness.

Suddenly, he disconnects his mouth from your neck again, just so he can place a passionate kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan, especially when he decides to increase his pace, until he masters his thrusts.

“J-Just like that– finally, such a good girl. You’ve been mine all along, you get that?”

His words let your walls clench around his cock and your eyelids flutter shut, but Chan is fast to remind you to open them again.

“I repeat– whose good girl are you?”

At this point you only manage to nod, unable to form any coherent sentence. To your disgrace, this makes Chan slow down a bit and you soon sense what he wants to hear, no, needs to hear.

“Yours, only yours.”

Moans echo around, louder than the ocean by now and you both crave more and more. Neither of you want to stop, as you wish to let this moment continue until forever. But you’re getting closer to your relief and Chan reckons it, especially after your next sentence which sounds rather like mindless babbling.

“Chan– close– cum.”

The blonde wants to chuckle, but little does he realise he’s just as fucked out as you are – what about defeat again?

“Fuck– you’ve been so good, just let go, babygirl, I’ve got you,” he gives in now, right before you follow suit.

Sending waves of pleasure through your whole body, your mind goes blank and white sparkles fill your vision once you reach your climax. His orgasm gets triggered with that, his moves become sloppier until he tips over the edge himself. Hot spurts of cum paint your inner walls white, creating a masterpiece as evenly pretty as the one attached to your neck.

Once you’ve managed to breathe at a normal pace again, heartbeats still echoing in your ears, Chan pulls out of you and the mixture of your liquids seeps out of your cunt.

Some moments later, he lays beside you and you place your head onto his chest, after he’s suggested you do so. This whole new atmosphere is still something you need to get used to. Still, you’re relieved how things have worked out. It was exhausting, after all.

“We definitely should have done this earlier,” you begin to speak, so quietly it’s barely noticeable.

“Hm, maybe if you haven’t taken my offer of some surfing lessons that seriously.”

You scoff, snapping your head up, so you’re able to face him.

“No– I was ready to give you another chance after that move. I was mad because you were getting on my nerves with teaching right in front of the restaurant.”

Chan smirks again, softly caressing the hair at the back of your head.

“Then tell me, pretty, how else would I have been able to get your attention?”

“Yeah, okay. Maybe I’m glad you did. But it’s still your fault this whole fight or whatever started.”

You shoot a strict glare in his direction but Chan just laughs at your attempt to gain some dominance.

“That still begs to differ. Why don’t we just talk this out?” 

🖇 TAGLIST: @heelover5 @chimmycupcake @avyskai @chrissybang @svintsandghosts @ughbehavior

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

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↳ Tinder matched and subsequently ghosted by the hot guy that lives across from you, you’re mostly resigned to singleton life, dejected and somewhat fed up. That is, until a screwed up delivery turns things around, in the most unexpected of ways.

↳ Female reader x Bang Chan

↳ 10.7k

! Strong language, angst and tension, DILF Chan, single dad Chan, neighbours au, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, a major size kink, Chan has a concerningly massive cock, explicitly unprotected sex, creampie, soft dominant Chan, praise and instruction, body worship, themes of single parenthood, brief references to illness, miscommunication quickly resolved, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「© August 2022 by jl-micasea-fics」

Flat 2.

As in, the accommodation between flats one and three.

As in, the residence opposite yours.

As in, the living space occupied by him.

You’d had a good day, up until this point. Work had been relatively peaceful, save for that one particularly stubborn customer that simply couldn’t grasp the concept of needing proof of purchase for a refund.

You suppose that in this moment, you know how that customer had felt. Looking down at the neatly strung brown paper parcel in your hands, you’re confused, concerned, and more than a little annoyed.

The label on the box reads, stark and clear, ‘Copper Court, Flat 2’. Yet here you are, having retrieved it from your pigeon hole; and your pigeon hole most certainly isn’t labelled ‘Flat 2’.

Your first thought is to shove the parcel in his pigeon hole, and you would, were it not already stuffed full to the brim with letters and magazines, spam leaflets from the local takeaway offering twenty percent off pizzas on a Tuesday.

A good neighbour would just take it up to Flat 2. A good neighbour would empty the pigeon hole of its current postal nightmare and take that up too, hand delivering it with a smile.

But here’s the thing.

You’ve been making an active point of avoiding the guy from Flat 2. Whether it’s leaving ten minutes earlier for work or opting to take the stairs to the third floor rather than risking inescapable metal confinement via the elevator, the sudden decline in your once frequent run-ins is no accident.

And really, you don’t think you can be blamed for that. If someone had told you three weeks ago that you’d be inexplicably Tinder matched with the guy living opposite you, only to be stood up on the night of your first date and subsequently ghosted, you’d be loath to believe them.

But that’s exactly what happened.

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TITLE TRACK: THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN US

i. hyunjin x reader

ii. angst, reader is scared of hurting hyunjin, self-destruction (reader), not feeling good enough, happy ending

iii. please remember to reblog, comment/send ask and let me know what you think!

Nothing was scarier than falling in love with him.

It was as easy as breathing, like nothing in your life had ever come more naturally to you. You knew from the minute your gazes met that you were doomed to fall for him. Loving Hyunjin was inevitable, but being with him felt impossible.

You thought you were safe–may it be your insecurities or just through getting to know Hyunjin–but you had never in a million years expected him to ever be attracted to you in the same way you were him.

Hyunjin was everything—a picture perfect man. Sure he had his faults, but all the good in him had always outweighed what little bad he possessed. It was as if a fictional man came to life—one that had been written so flawlessly that everyone couldn’t help but to fall for him. He had never seemed real to you—too good to be true. That was what made you certain that such a beautiful and innocent soul could never love a tainted and broken one such as your own.

When someone wronged him he forgave them—still loved them endlessly as if they hadn’t spoken a cruel word against him or hurt him in any way. He loved the idea of love and never thought anything of the misfortunes it would bring such as you had. Hyunjin romanticized the idea of love and all the good it could bring while you only ever thought about how that good would inevitably come to an end. He liked to lose himself in his art or a good book and appreciated every aspect of life and found some form of comfort in it. No matter how much you wanted to do the same you just couldn’t.

You weren’t good for Hyunjin.

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drabble: hands.

Warning: mature theme, edging, fingering (f.receiving), dirty talks

Word Count: 700+

It was an accident. He didn’t mean any of it, and neither did you.

It was a peaceful Saturday afternoon and the two of you agreed to stay home and watch a movie instead of going out. Through the glass window, you can see that the sun was about to set on the horizon when you were laying on your back, next to your boyfriend, Chan.

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