#chris scenario

[mint-yooxgi]

Hello! :] Can I request Possessive Trickster Bang Chan for the drabbles? tysm! <3

You should have known better.

Every dark gaze, every wolfish grin, you ignored. How could you not? Christopher was always nothing but a gentleman. Not once could you see the warning signs everyone else seemed to tell you about. He's never once raised his voice. Those hands of his have been nothing but gentle every time they touched your skin.

Always, always, always, he was kind.

Maybe that was your downfall.

You should have known better.

Perhaps Chris never raised his voice, but he had this certain tone he liked to use whenever he was around you. You brushed it off as playful one too many times, ignoring the slight condescending undertones of his words. The two of you often joked around each other, Chris having warned you more than once about the consequences of certain actions.

You should have listened.

Tender touches would forever grace your skin. Those defined muscles of his never once made you second guess that his arms were anything but safe. Though, now that you think about it, he always had to be touching you. Whether it was a hand placed onto the small of your back, or fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist every time you attempted to pull away, Chris always needed to feel your skin beneath his own.

Grips you now realize lingered a little too long... Were a little too tight.

It was innocent enough, the date you were supposed to go on. Changbin was nice, and the two of you had been friends for quite awhile. Really, your other friends weren't the only ones getting tired of the both of you skirting around your feelings for each other. Yet, for some reason, he always stayed away.

You should have realized that that had been a warning.

"Are you finished crying, now?"

That voice...

What once had been such a tender comfort for you now only sends shivers of terror racing down your spine. You'd much rather go back to sitting in the dark, alone. Despite the sensation of his eyes following your every move, at least you had the silence to keep you company. Now, there's only the stark reminder that everything you once knew about the man standing mere feet away from you was all a lie.

"Are you ready to talk?"

Red fills your vision, nostrils flaring as you inhale a sharp breath.

"I'm not the one who's caged me like some wild animal."

Footsteps sound off to your left, turning your head to see that familiar face walk into the light. Bars separate him from you, steel and firm, reminding you just how dire your situation now is.

"If you had listened to me like I told you to, we wouldn't be in this mess right now, Darlin'."

"Do not call me that."

"Why not?" A quirked brow meets your gaze, Chris' eyes shining in amusement. "You seemed to have no problem with the term when it was with your date."

Smartly, you remain silent, narrowing your gaze at the man across from you.

"Ah, but maybe that's it?" He hums, and suddenly his features are shifting right before your very eyes. "If I change my appearance, does that make it easier?"

"You killed him." The words are no more than a low drawl, cutting through the darkness like a knife. Your breathing picks up, heat flaring beneath your skin. "You killed him, and now you dare take on his visage?"

The familiar face of Changbin stares back at you, but you's recognize those cold and calculating eyes anywhere. The mirage of your date cocks his head, blinking curiously as you seethe in the corner.

"I don't tend to make a lot of mistake, Darlin'," Chris begins, stepping closer. He lifts a hand, wrapping his fingers gently around one of the bars to your cell. "I'll admit, this has definitely been a bit of an oversight on my part. I thought I made it very clear to those friends of yours that I don't like sharing. As long as he had stayed away from you, he would have still been alive."

Slowly, those features of his shift back to normal. The only difference being the sudden black voids that takes over his eyes, sharp fangs peeking out from behind lips now curled into a snarl. Gone is the inviting smile he would always wear, expression sharpening until his entire face is bathed in shadows.

You should have known better.

"His mistake was thinking that he could have you."

[iridescentxstars]

dance for me — bangchan

➳ published: 13.12.22 ➳ mafia!au || genre: smut || rated: m  ➳ pairing: mafia!bangchan x dancer!reader (fem) ➳ summary: chan asked you a question that you were hesitant to answer because of your past but you learn that chan simply couldn't care less because all he can think about is you dancing for him ➳ word count: 1.6k ➳ warnings: slight yandere behaviour, like the smallest amount, reader was a stripper ➳ author’s note: so i wrote this for a friend, she sent me an instagram reel which is inspired by a scene in 'sinners condemned' by somme sketcher. all the inspiration credit goes to the author! @the-boy-meets-evil and @sanjoongie this is to make up for making yall cry ➳ banner and divider credit: @hobeemin

[NOW PLAYING: Chase Atlantic - Swim]

Chan's fingers brush your hair out of your face, he didn't think his question would cause you to get so flustered. He could tell that there was something that you've been hiding from him - Chan does his research, he doesn't just fuck around with anyone, he makes sure that they are authentic. No lies, no surprises. He didn't become the king of the city by allowing himself to be fooled by those around him.

He knows everything. He prides himself on it and yet, there is something in your past that he cannot get his hands on - no matter how hard his men have tried.

You chew on your bottom lip, fingers playing with the ring you always wear on your right hand; you've been trying to figure out how to tell him about your past without seeing that look of disgust cross his face.

You're not ashamed, you had to do what you could to get yourself out of the debt that your parents put you in and when you managed to pay off everything and save enough to break ties and make a name for yourself, away from them and the life that you used to lead, you ran. Far. You moved out of the small, backwater, no-hope of a town you grew up in and pursued your dream of living in the big city. You built a life for yourself and loved it but how were you meant to know that Bang Chan, the most powerful man in the city, would grow interested in you?

He's handsome, luxurious and well-mannered. A man that you could only ever dream about, the type you read about in your little books that you'd hide under your bed. The dangerous type, but aren't they all? He could make all of your problems disappear, one way or another, but as rough as he could be - Chan would never lay a finger on you, not without your consent.

Poor girl should have run away but you found yourself tumbling down the rabbit hole, caught up in everything he is and has to offer.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice pulls you back to the present, to the question he had asked as you both entered his home. It's the first time you've been there. He's always taken you back to your apartment but tonight is different. He's not letting you run away like you have every other night; a quick peck on the lips with a smile and blushing cheeks before disappearing into the safety of your home. Chan's got you right where he wants you and now that you're here - there's no running away.

"N-nothing," You say, looking up with a smile, "I was just thinking about how delicious dinner was tonight, I really liked that place."

A lie, so obvious, but Chan just nods, humming as he hooks a finger under your chin and makes you look up at him. "Well, I'll make sure to take you there again but I did ask you a question and I expect it to be answered."

"Oh," you murmur quietly, pulling away quickly before the scent of his cologne causes you to crumble once more. You look around the foyer and spot a small loveseat for you to sit down and take your heels off. "What was the question again?"

Chan catches you before you get to sit down, "what did you do before you came to town?"

You look at him, searching his eyes and knowing that he's not going to let this go. What's the worse that could happen? He calls you a gold digger, a whore, degrades you and laughs you outta his house? You've heard it all before but fuck, you like him. As stupid as you are, you like all that he is - even if part of him is dark and deadly - and you don't want him to view you as something you were rather than who you are.

But, if he does then you can always walk away, right?

"A stripper." You say, voice soft, meek and showing that submissive side of yourself that you try to desperately hide.

There's a look in Chan's eyes that suggests that this isn't something he is repulsed by. "You were pretty good at it," this isn't a question, he's finally putting that final piece of your puzzle into place at how you ended up where you are. You've worked for it. It may not have been a job that many view as 'honest' work but then again, neither is what Chan does. "Did you enjoy it?" You're a dance teacher with your own studio while you also work at the mayor's office as his receptionist, of course you enjoyed it but he needs that confirmation. You nod, slowly as if curious as to where he's going with this, "would you give me a lap dance? Show me how good you are."

There's a look in your eyes, a slight change that has a soft rumble sound from his chest. Oh, this is quite the surprise and Chan doesn't typically find himself in situations where he can be surprised.

You take his hand, pull him to the spacious living room and sit him down on the couch with a push to his chest. Chan chuckles at your faux dominance, allowing you the illusion that you hold all the cards, while you set up. A dancer can’t give a good show without accompanying music, right?

You walk towards him seductively and Chan settles into his seat, legs spread, suit jacket unbuttoned and one arm resting over the back of the couch. His eyes are on yours, both hungry as your hand reaches to the zip on the side of your dress, dragging the zipper down slowly as you make your way to stand in front of him and the tight, black dress soon pools to the floor - leaving you in black lace lingerie and heels.

There's a pause. Time feels like it's at a standstill other than the music playing in the background and once it hits the chorus, you move. Your moves are designed to capture his attention, to make him think about nothing but the way you look with your cleavage in his face, neck bare, lips parted and eyes on his. You move in a way that causes his mind to forget where they are, your hips grinding against his lap, stirring the beast inside and causing Chan to think about all the ways your body would feel underneath him, lips parted as you scream his name.

You're dangerous, in your own way. Sweet, innocent and delicate - a flower. A rose. Beautiful and sweet smelling with thorns for those who aren't careful, Chan could almost chuckle if Rose was your stage name because it's rather fitting seeing you like this. Almost.

"Take your bra off," Chan says after a short while, looking up into your eyes as you roll your body against his. Your hands are holding onto his broad shoulders, keeping yourself stable as you dance on him, and Chan's hands are hovering over your hips, knowing that if he was to truly touch you then he's pushing you down onto his hardening cock and making you feel what you're doing to him.

However, that would ruin the fun.

"It'll cost extra," your voice is sweet, melodic, enticing, playing the role perfectly like you never left the strip club. Fuck, the thought that you were this bold with anyone else drives him insane. Maybe he should make sure those who got to see you like this can never see again... shit, what're you doing to him?

Your fingers curl around the hair at the back of Chan's neck before moving through his soft, blonde locks and applying enough pressure to the back of his head so that the man's face is pressed into your cleavage. A low growl sounds from the back of his throat as he nips at the top of your plump breasts, "I'll take it off."

Moving back, you tilt his head up and lean down so your lips are nearly touching his, teasing, inviting him to close the distance. You know that you're playing with fire but you can't help it, high on the atmosphere. "Costs even more," you whisper against his lips.

Oh, you want to play that game?

Chan digs his hand into his pants, pulling out his wallet and without breaking eye contact, he pulls his card out from the leather wallet before tossing it away and shoving the black Amex card into your mouth. Your eyes widen, your game beaten as his fingers dance up your spine to the clasp at the back of your bra, "pin is 3436. Now, take it off." He whispers into your ear as he easily unclasps your bra and you pull your body away from his. You're sitting on his lap, your heat pressed against his cock and if either of you were to look down, you'd see the damp mess that you made, your arousal apparent but Chan's eyes only travel down to your breasts, watching your hands remove the bra and show off your perky breasts with your nipples hard and waiting for his hands, his lips, to tease them.

He's been pretty patient, hasn't he? How can he deny himself the pretty treat you've presented him.

Play time is over now. Chan takes one of your breasts into his mouth as he grabs your ass tightly and stands up, heading to the bedroom. He could fuck you on the couch, he thought of it but he's going to take his time with you, show you everything that he is and why he's better than anyone you've ever had. Chan plans on making you addicted to him as he is with you, obsessed with the way he makes you feel and want him constantly.

Crazy in love, that's what he wants and Chan always gets what he wants.

[gohyuck]

[9:57 pm] chan can’t bring himself to get up from his spot in front of your grave, not even when the clouds split open and rain starts pouring from the heavens. it’s fitting, he thinks, that the weather should match his mood like this. you’d always believed that one’s emotions were affected by their surroundings and that their surroundings were affected by their emotions.

when he finally gets home from his monthly trip, soaked to the bone from his walk and fingers wrapped around the mouth of a freshly bought - and half finished - bottle of whiskey, his eyes fall on the pictures of both of you on the mantle above his fireplace before they register anything else. he moves closer to look at them, not bothering to turn on any lights as he does so. he’s preferred the dark, of late.

it’s been seven months, and missing you hasn’t gotten any easier. neither has his loving you lessened at all. with a rough, eventual sigh and a final swig, chan gently puts all of your photos face down. he does this every month - by noon tomorrow they’ll be upright again. by noon tomorrow chan will go back to spending every possible minute away from his apartment.

from your apartment. where you and him had shared every possible moment and memory. where you and him had shared your lives... right up until yours ended, with you begging for him to keep living his own.

chan lifts the bottle to his lip for another taste of the searing alcohol, forgetting that he’d just finished it. in disgust, he flings it across the room, not even warranting a reaction to the shattering, splintering noises it makes upon impact. he’ll clean it up later if he remembers to.

for now, he lays down on the couch, pulling the threadbare blanket you’d insisted stayed on it over his shoulders. he does his best to ignore how it smells of you as he fades into a fitful, dreamless sleep. it is still dark, and his clothes are still soaked. he’s got whiskey in his blood.

chan doesn’t care.

when he wakes up tomorrow morning, it’ll be the uneasy calm after the storm. your lingering smell left in the blanket - that isn’t there but he insists still is - will overpower him, and he’ll surely notice the broken bottle in scattered pieces over the floor. he’ll put your pictures up again, making sure to let his fingers trace your features. it’ll stay this way, waiting for his next episode almost breathlessly, for the next month.

right up until he spends another full month without you, and the cycle repeats again as it always does.

some anniversaries are not the celebration kind.

[bubbleskz]

TOSKA ╬ 01

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: soulmate!slow burn, some fantasy&angst thrown in for good measure

word count: 726

summary: Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. 

a/n: fun fact: the soulmate connection is heavily based off of something i experience irl!

previous

⌯⌯⌯

Soulmates were supposed to be simple. Each attribute stemmed from the five senses and branched off into two basic levels, sometimes a third. The primary level consisted of all your common attributes- colourblindness for sight, hearing the music they listen to for sound, the same flavours of the foods they loved on your tongue when they ate them for taste, smelling a specific aroma when they were near for smell, and a tingly sensation when they neared for touch.

It then broke off into the secondary levels. Here you’d find the more unique combinations of things associated with the senses. Attributes such as feeling the other’s emotions, telepathy, or omniscience typically fell into this level. Some pairs had tattoos of the most meaningful words they said to each other, some had the heartbeat of their soulmate etched into their skin that changed as the heartbeat did.

The third level was a little bit different. It was most commonly used to describe the soulmate attributes that were very hypersensitive or meshed together. Nothing was too far off from the lower levels, but they were extreme nonetheless. Reports of soulmates that stopped time when they first touched, others that lost all senses except sight when they saw each other, omniscience combined with telepathy always made for a fun time.

Attributes ended there. They were supposed to end there.

No one ever talked about the fourth level.

⌯⌯⌯

He could remember the day it first happened like it was only moments ago.

It hadn’t been anything like what he’d been taught in school. There was no waking up with a new ability, no romantic or humourous line scribbled across his skin in the handwriting of his destined partner. None of that ever gave him so much as a whisper of who his beloved would be. At first it was hard, the emptiness that came with not knowing, but he’d come to miss that feeling. It was much easier to wake up without a soulmate. To live, to breathe, to exist freely. All of that seemed to be a distant memory of the past, filling him with the bittersweet ache of nostalgia when he thought back on it.

The second he discovered he had a soulmate it felt like he was dying. It began as a dull ache in his knuckles that reverberated with such instensity he was sure his fingers were no longer attached at the joints. They hadn’t fallen off though, the bitter chill that climbed up from his fingertips and gripped tight around his throat was reassurance enough. His limbs felt like they were being pricked by a thousand hot needles as he cold spread throughout him. A wave of what he could only describe as absolute agony hit him with unrelenting force. It was like he was falling in an endless void, falling into painful pieces as he went. His chest became tight, so tight he felt like his breath was stolen right from his lips and he was being slowly turned inside out. It was pure, unadulterated agony in its finest form.

Oh how he wished that was the end of it.

The fourth level wasn’t taught for a reason. Not a single person on the planet, not even the experts who discovered and studied soulmates day in and day out, could understand the smallest fraction of what the level truly was. Records showed only three instances of soulmates that fell into this level, all of which were connected to each other in entirely separate ways than the other pairs. One pair morphed entirely, and irreversibly, into one body at the first touch. The second pair heard every thought the other had through all seconds of the day. They had driven each other mad. The third pair set off such a high pitched- and very painful- ringing noise when they were near that the government banned them from being within 7,000 feet of the other. He always thought they might’ve been happy, since they could stop their attribute from causing them harm rather easily. There was no comfort for him, though. No studies explained what caused them, no research reports on why pain had to be his attribute, no piece of mind knowing there was a way to ease the aching sorrow his soulmate was feeling. There was nothing.

He was living his own personal hell.

[luadelaidia]

TOSKA ╬ 00

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: soulmate!slow burn, some fantasy&angst thrown in for good measure

word count: 169

summary: Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning.

next

⌯⌯⌯

The blistering cold of the first winter snow did little to ease the searing pain beneath scarred skin. White hot fire coursed through every vein, contaminating every nook and cranny with a scorching burn. Lungs constricted with every inhale and tore every ounce of comfort that once made home there.

There was almost nothing that could compare to the aching blaze ripping throughout her. Almost.

The true agony lied within her mental. A rope was tied around her thoughts, dragging her towards something words couldn’t define. Like a hand gripping onto her heart for dear life. It was like she knew nothing and everything all at once, emotions and knowledge she couldn’t begin to comprehend the source of swarming her mind in every waking moment. Dreams were plagued with voices and images that made little sense, disappearing almost entirely from the mind the second eyes opened in the morning. It was excruciating. Misery in its purest form, created specifically to torture her alone.

Except he could feel it too.

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 1 - Yandere!Wolf!Bang Chan + Marking & Possession

@ninibears-erigom​ said: Yandere werewolf christopher with possession and marking/biting but make it rough 😉 thank youuu

A/n: Ehehehehe, coming right up, boo~

Word Count: 877

Kinktober 2022 Mini Masterlist

The light of the full moon drifts through the curtains, shining brightly in the sky above and being the only witness to the events taking place in the cabin below. Soft pants fill the air as Chris pulls you closer into him, rolling his hips into yours as he attempts to control himself for the time being. The only problem is, he doesn’t know how much longer he can. From the way that you’re whining from beneath him, he doesn’t know if he necessarily wants to.

A subtle shift of his hips has his cock brushing against a spot inside of you that makes you see stars, involuntarily clenching around him as a low moan of his name slips past your lips.

“Fuck,” you groan, “right there.”

The only response you get is the feeling of him smirking against the skin of your neck, Chris way too content to continue taking in your scent as he purposefully snaps his hips into yours quite sharply. 

A rumble builds in his chest at the thought that only he can make you feel this way. Only he gets to touch you like this. Only he gets to have you. You’re his, and nothing will change that.

“Mine.” His grip tightens around your hips, a growl slipping past his lips as he indulges himself in these all too familiar thoughts.

Chris absolutely adores the way you clench around him yet again at his words.

You hum, dragging your nails down his back as you pull him closer, “yours.”

His hips falter, eyes flashing gold beneath the moonlight as he revels in your confirmation. This is everything he could have ever asked for, and more. 

Digging his fingers into your skin, he attempts to pull you even closer, needing to feel your skin pressed against his in every way. The need to consume you, to devour you in any and every way he can, to please you until all you can think about is him, overtakes his every sense. The fact that you keep repeating the fact that you’re his over and over is making him lose control.

That is, until he hears you utter a different phrase. Two simple little words that make his head spin, until all he can focus on is you.

“You’re mine.”

Something within himself snaps, a pleased snarl tearing from his throat as he renews his pace with a newfound vigour. Long since have his eyes bled golden once more, and when he meets your gaze, a gasp escapes you.

“All yours, baby girl,” he growls, a wolfish grin tugging at his lips. “All yours.”

“Mine.” You repeat, and Chris swears he nearly comes from that word alone.

Burying his head back into the side of your neck, he trails his hands up your sides. At the feeling of you biting down on his shoulder, his lips part, eyes fluttering closed at the utter bliss that travels throughout his entire body.

So, that’s how you want to play, huh?

Chris smirks, pausing only briefly in his movements to lift one of your legs up by your thigh before starting a brutal pace. The way you moan his name in response, tilting your head back in bliss, practically begging for him to mark you as his own, has his cock twitching within you.

“Gonna make you mine,” he growls, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. “Gotta return the favour.”

With the way you’re clenching around him, Chris can tell you’re close, and he’s not that far behind, either. He won’t last that much longer, anyways, not with how you’re tilting your head back and practically begging for him to claim you as his just as you’ve already claimed him as yours.

“Do it.” You plead, meeting his gaze as you watch him lick his lips.

His golden eyes shine in the moonlight as he dives for your neck, licking and sucking at the skin without another thought. Luckily, he has enough mind to bring a hand down and start flicking at your clit with his fingers, wanting you to experience the most amount of pleasure that he can provide.

A few more strokes of his cock along your walls combined with the flick of his fingers and you can feel that cord within you snap. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel him sink his fangs into you, your orgasm washing over your entire body as your vision goes white. Never have you felt pleasure this intensely before in your entire life, a scream of his name practically tearing from your throat.

Chris stills within you, a low rumble reverberating from his chest as you latch onto him for dear life. You can feel his warm release painting your walls white, claiming you even further as his own as you spasm around him. 

For a minute, neither of you move, remaining frozen in place as you attempt to catch your breaths. That is, until Chris is releasing his hold on you, gently pulling away as he places soft kisses over your newest mark.

Now, nothing can separate the two of you. Nothing at all.

A content smile is on his face as his chest rumbles once more in approval, “mine.”

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 15 - Royal Guard!Bang Chan X Princess!Reader - Voyerism & Edging

Anonymous Said: Royal Guard!Bangchan x Princess!reader with voyeurism and edging tehe 🤭

A/n: I know just the thing hehehe~

Word Count: 1,512

Kinktober 2022 Mini Masterlist

Chris is a loyal man. In fact, he is one of the most loyal guards you have. Which is exactly why when he heard muffled whimpers coming from your chambers late one evening while he was standing guard outside your room, he came running.

Never did he expect such a sight - such a beautiful, sinful sight - to greet him as he peeked inside to assess the situation.

There you lay, spread out and half naked on your bed, a hand ghosting over the inside of your thighs as you spread yourself open for him to see. The best part? You’re wearing his shirt.

Chris can feel his cock twitch within his slacks at the sight he observes before him, hidden away in the shadows of the corner of your room. So much so, that he cannot help but palm himself over his growing erection, his eyes darkening as he watches you slide a hand under your shirt - his shirt - to grab at your breast. From the way he sees the fabric moving, he just knows you’re rolling a nipple between those delicate fingers of yours.

Adding the slightest bit more pressure over his clothed cock, Chris has to suppress a moan. This is everything he’s ever wanted, and so much more. He’s always desired you, always harboured deeper feelings for your than just platonic, but he was never sure if you wanted him, if you needed him as desperately as he craves you. Now, he doesn’t have to guess.

All those times your touch lingered on his skin. All those times you squeezed his arm as you laughed at one of his jokes. All those embraces that lasted just a little longer than what some would say conventional friendship should. All those times you caught him staring at you, making him look away with a faint blush dusting his cheeks only for him to look back at you to find you doing the exact same.

It all meant something. To him, and to you.

Your moan pulls him out of his thoughts and back to the blissful reality before him.

He blinks, licking his lips as he watches the hand that had been teasingly dragging along the skin of your thighs move between your legs, your fingers sliding through your glistening folds. Another moan escapes you as you begin circling that little bundle of nerves slowly, the slightest of touches building that pressure within you so delicately.

A hand comes up to cover his mouth as he slips the other down his pants. Teasingly, he moves his thumb over the head of his cock in time with the movements of your fingers. When you get off, you’ll get off together, just as he’s always fantasized about. 

Chris doesn’t want to interrupt you just yet, keeping his presence well hidden for the moment. Right now, he’d rather watch you. He wants to know everything that will make you scream his name in bliss. Get a sense of just what exactly makes your toes curl in ecstasy.

You build yourself up slowly, switching between circling your clit and dragging your fingers through your wet folds. Only twice has he seen you insert a finger into that tight little cunt of yours, just to drag it out to begin rubbing at your swollen clit again. 

It’s like you’re purposely building yourself up slowly, teasing yourself in a game only you are partial to.

Wrapping his hand around his hard cock, Chris begins to stroke himself in time with your movements. Again, a hiss almost escapes his lips at the feeling, but he bites his lip, not wanting to alert you of his presence just yet. He’s enjoying this far too much right now, and from the looks of it, so are you.

A hitch in your breath and your breathing deepens, chest rising and falling unevenly as you begin to pick up the pace. Your fingers increase their pressure over your clit, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips part. Small whimpers escape your lips as you build yourself up.

Only, before you can tumble right off the edge, you stop yourself.

A whine tears from your throat as you pull your hand away, your fingers back to stroking along your inner thigh as you attempt to calm yourself down. He does the same, stopping any and all movements along his length as he catches his own breath, his abdomen tightening in protest at the loss of stimulation.

Even from this far away, Chris can see how your dripping cunt clenches around nothing, your juices leaking out of you and down your ass, practically begging for him to have a taste. 

Fuck, Chris could get lost in your pussy for hours. Whatever you wanted - his tongue, his fingers, his cock - he would give to you, making you see stars as you came for him over, and over, and over again until he was the only thing on your mind. What he wouldn’t give for a taste…

Movement out of the corner of his eyes catches his attention, and he watches as you bring your one hand that had just been toying with your entrance to your lips. He nearly moans at the content hum you give as you wrap your lips around your wet digits.

What he wouldn’t give for those to be his fingers you’re sucking on so delicately right now. The way your eyes flutter shut only makes him think of how you would look sucking his cock. Fuck, he bets your lips would feel so nice, like velvet wrapped around him as you looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes of yours.

So badly does Chris want to please you, and for you to please him. So badly does he want to cherish you, to love you like nobody else can. Yet more than all of that, he wants to wreck you in the most delicious ways possible. To ruin you for any other man that comes after him. So that all you can ever know, all that you ever think about is him, and about how good he, and only himself, can fuck you.

Nobody else deserves you, for no one else would take as good care of you as he can.

Now, if only he could get a glance inside that beautiful mind of yours to see just what you’re thinking about.

“Come on, baby,” he mouths the words, voice barely even a whisper on the wind. “Don’t leave me hanging like this.”

It’s as if you’ve heard his wish, for the next moment, you’re releasing your fingers from your mouth with a small pop and bringing them back to your dripping folds. Again, you teasingly circle your entrance before moving to rub at your clit. Except, this time, you don’t bother building yourself up. This time, you begin rubbing at your clit with a newfound fever.

Unabashed moans slipped past your lips, followed delicately by whines and whimpers as you toss your head back onto your pillows. You can feel that cord winding up within your lower abdomen again, and the pleasure is mounting much quicker this time. You can feel yourself beginning to teeter on the edge once more.

Just like before, with every movement over your clit with your fingers, Chris mirrors over his cock. His lips part as breathless pants escape him, and he has to prevent his eyes from slipping closed in pleasure due to the fact that he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions. They will be burned into his memory for all eternity, haunting him in the most delicious ways possible.

Then, you begin to plead - to beg.

“Please, please, please,” the word falls like a mantra from your lips as frustration is clear in your voice. “Please, let me come.”

“Fuck, baby,” Chris lets a hiss escape him, only covered by the sound of your whimpers filling the room.

“Please,” and then you say it, the one word that has his whole body floating, his soul ascending as the fires of his passion consume his very being. “Chris.”

His name. You moan his name.

Honestly, it’s a miracle that he’s still standing on his feet right now. How he hasn’t just come in his pants from you uttering the one word he’s always longed to hear you sigh in bliss, he doesn’t know. All he does know, is that when he does finally regain his senses, he’s no longer hidden within the shadows of your room.

Slowly, he approaches the bed, eyes already locked on your panting figure that’s staring at him with wide eyes. From what he can see, you’ve denied yourself release yet another time.

Perfect.

“Chris?” Your breathless voice reaches his ears, and he cannot help but smirk at the way your eyes trail his form, narrowing in on the large tent in his pants as he watches your lips part and eyes go wide.

He smirks, gaze darkening as he gets a closer look at you spread out before him. “You called?”

[iridescentxstars]

our last dance — bangchan

➳ published: 10.12.22 ➳ domestic!au || werewolf!au || immortal!au || genre: angst || fluff || rated: t ➳ pairing: werewolf!bangchan x angel!reader (fem) ➳ summary: chris lived a full life, a life better than he thought he would but everything must come to an end for those who are not immortal ➳ word count: 1.3k ➳ warnings: death ➳ author’s note: you need to listen to the song for full effect! if you cry, you have to tell me - cos i did ➳ banner credit: @feelsaesthetic (thank you for also giving this a read)

[NOW PLAYING: Awakening - U137]

"Is this it?" The sound of the falling rain against the window pane, a reflection of what's to come, nearly drowns out his weakened voice.

Your fingers gently touch his cheek, you couldn't look at him, you don’t want that pained expression on his face to be the last thing you see from him. "Hush, my love," you say, thumbs brushing away the tears that fall on his cheek, feeling the stubble underneath. "Save your breath."

Chris' hand caresses the back of your head, holding you closer to him, wanting you to be the last thing he remembers as he closes his eyes for the last time. "This wasn't the way I planned to go," he says with a choked laugh.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, meeting you and how much he fought the feelings you stirred inside him. He never thought he would meet the love of his life that night, he never thought he would call you his queen, his angel - his wife. If Chris believed in mates, you would have been that too but you were better than that, better than anything he could have ever hoped for. You changed the world for him, he lived every day like it was going to be his last because he truly didn't believe he was going to go very far but at the end of each one - good or bad - you were there. You made him realise life was worth living and he started to do everything he could for you because that's the man you made out of him and god, did he love you more for it.

"Dad..." You pull away, Chris' hand dropping as you both turn to see the young woman standing in the doorway. Her short black hair is wet from the rain, dripping onto the floor while she clutches the plushie he had bought her when she was a pup tightly in her hand. "N-no... you can't..."

A broken sob sounds from the back of your throat as you pull away from the wolf to go and hold your daughter who is gritting her teeth and shaking, fighting back tears. Iris grew up to be a spitting image of her father, she took after him in so many ways but she got your immortality - something Chris could never have. She stands there looking at him, his tired smile spreading across his lips as if trying to make her feel better, "come here, pup."

Hand in hand with you, Iris walks over and hugs him, hearing his faint heartbeat growing weaker by the second. "Uncle Chan and Uncle Channie-"

"They'll be here," you say, your eyes meeting Chris’ and you give him a small smile, as if reassuring him that everyone is going to be okay.

"I'll see you right, Dad?" Iris says as she climbs onto the bed, laying next to her dad and hugging him gently. "Mum and I can come see you in heaven and we can be together." Nobody had ever told Iris what happens to wolves when they die, something you had to accept the hard way, nobody really knows where they end up but it's not somewhere you can reach him and you could never fully accept that.

There's a knock at the door, "I'll get it," you break the silence, giving Chris a look before heading to the door. His hearing might have faded but he can hear the way you break down, faintly hearing Chan whispering to you while Channie begins to cry.

Shit, he didn't think this would be so hard.

"Iris," Chris tries to catch her attention as she talks about all the things they could do together and how heaven is so great - he'll love it there. "Hey, my little pup," she looks at him, biting on her bottom lip because he only calls her that when he's being serious about something, "when a wolf dies..."

"No," she cuts him off, pulling away and causing Chris to wince from the sudden movement. "You said..." she shakes her head, "Dad, you said that all dogs go to heaven. You told me that that's where all dogs go. We are wolves, we are kinda like dogs so... so…

He tilts his head back, the tears silently falling as he hears her trying to fight him about something like this. Fuck, he wish he could just let her believe it, that they'd meet again but he can't. He can't give her false hope, not now.

Chan, Channie and you walk back into the room and you pull Iris away for a moment, taking a step back to let the brothers share their moment. They all know it's soon, even Chris does, everything is hurting, his breathing is shallow and god, does he look so tired right now. You can tell he's holding on to say goodbye to everyone, to make sure they can see him one last time but it's now time for him to go to sleep. They know it is, his heart is growing weaker, his voice becoming quieter as he forces himself to stay awake.

"Say goodbye, baby." You whisper to Iris, "tell Daddy you love him."

Their last goodbyes. Everyone telling him they love him, Chris telling them to take care before everyone slowly leaves the room to let his wife say your final goodbyes to the love you had searched for for thousands of years. Laying with him, you rest your head on his chest, listening closely to his once strong and comforting heartbeat fading into the night. "Do you remember the first time we danced in the rain?" You ask, knowing he's too tired to answer so you’re satisfied with the faint smile he wears as he looks at you. "Close your eyes, baby," you lift your hand to guide his eyes shut and shuffle up slightly so you can press your foreheads together. You may not be able to take him to heaven, may not be able to keep him with you but you can make sure his last moments be that of a memory you once shared while his body shuts down and he drifts off to an eternal sleep.

One he's been waiting for for a while now.

"Remember how the rain started to pour without warning, it was too late to save our clothes because either way, we were soaked so we made the most of it. Remember? The music playing from the cafe near us, a slow song." Tears fall together but you don’t care, your memories mixing together as one you tell yourself. "You looked so handsome, dressed up for me. I loved it so much when you made the effort and you always loved the way I looked in red. You complained the night was ruined, grumbled about how it wasn't meant to rain while you spun me around and caught me in your arms." You chuckle softly, hearing him attempt it before his fingers find yours, weakly squeezing them to help you continue. "You-" you feel the lump in your throat and try to push it down. "You told me I looked more beautiful, drenched in the rain and the glow of the moon, then anything you had ever seen before you kissed me." You press a soft kiss to his lips, your own quivering when he doesn't pucker, his hand still in yours and his breath... "Picture it, my wolf, as if we are dancing together now. Let our last dance guide you to where you'll no longer be in pain."

He's limp, unresponsive and you press a final kiss to his forehead as you feel the light in his soul, his desire to hold on for a moment longer, fade.

"Goodbye, my love." You say, holding him safely in your arms, "rest in peace."