Summary: You wake Chan with your mouth on him, a morning surprise that leaves him gasping
The first thing you noticed when your eyes fluttered open was the sunlight sneaking in through the half-drawn curtains, painting the bedroom in a soft golden glow. The second thing was the warmth at your side—the steady rise and fall of Chan’s chest, his arm slung over your waist, heavy and protective even in sleep.
He looked peaceful like this, lips parted just slightly, hair messy from the night before. You loved him at every hour of the day, but there was something about mornings that made you ache for him in a way you could never quite explain. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded raspy, or how his body ran hot under the sheets, or simply the fact that you had him to yourself before the world barged in.
You shifted carefully, watching his features in silence. His lashes fluttered a little, though he didn’t wake. The corner of your lips tugged into a smile. He deserved to sleep in after how hard he’d been working, but your body betrayed you—heat pooling low in your stomach, eyes drawn down to the outline pressing faintly against the sheets.
Biting your lip, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He didn’t stir. Another kiss, lower this time, on his chest. Your fingers brushed across his abs, tracing the faint ridges. The small sound he let out in his sleep went straight to your core.
You hesitated, just for a second, wondering if you should really go through with what was swirling in your head. But then you remembered all the times he had spoiled you selflessly, all the ways he always put you first. This morning, you wanted to flip that balance—wake him in the best way possible.
Slowly, you slipped out from under his arm. The blanket slid down with you, exposing more of his bare torso. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, waistband loose from the way he liked to sleep. Your mouth watered at the sight.
You bent down, brushing another kiss to his sternum, then lower, letting your lips trail across his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch, and he let out a half-asleep hum. Still, his eyes stayed closed.
Your fingers toyed with the waistband of his sweats before tugging them down carefully. His cock sprang free, already half-hard, flushed and tempting. Your breath hitched at the sight, arousal spiking instantly.
You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. He groaned this time, hips twitching just slightly, but his eyes remained shut. Smirking to yourself, you swirled your tongue around him, tasting the salty precum that had already gathered.
The reaction was instant—his thighs tensed, another low sound spilling from his throat. You took him deeper, lips wrapping around him, one hand stroking the base as you bobbed your head slowly. Spit slicked his skin, and you relished in the mess, in the warmth of him filling your mouth.
“Mm—fuck…” The groggy curse broke from his lips, his voice deeper than usual. His hand shot to your hair, not to stop you, but to ground himself as his eyes blinked open.
The sight of you between his legs had him fully awake in seconds. “Baby… what-ahh, what are you doing?” His words were shaky, but the dazed smile spreading across his lips said everything.
You pulled back just enough to answer, your lips brushing his tip as you whispered, “Waking you up.” Then you sank down again, slower this time, taking him as far as you could before gagging lightly.
His breath hitched, fingers tightening in your hair. “Holy shit,” he groaned, head falling back against the pillow. His hips bucked before he caught himself, letting you set the pace. “You’re unreal…”
You hollowed your cheeks, working him with your mouth while your hand stroked what you couldn’t take. The taste of him, the weight of him against your tongue—it had you squeezing your thighs together, desperate for friction.
“Baby, fuck… feels so good.” His praise came out in ragged breaths, every word soaked in sleep-rough need. He was watching you now, eyes heavy but locked on the sight of you going down on him. “Best wake-up ever...fuck just like that-”
The more he praised you, the harder you tried. You swirled your tongue under his tip, then pulled off with a pop just to kitten lick the head, teasing until he groaned your name like it was a prayer. His hips were trembling now, his abs flexing with every movement you made.
“God, you’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “Gonna make me-fuck-gonna make me cum already.”
That only encouraged you. You picked up the pace, sucking harder, your spit dripping down to your hand. You wanted to hear him lose it. You wanted to swallow everything he gave you.
“Shit, baby, I—” He tried to warn you, but the words dissolved into a strangled moan. His thighs jerked, cock pulsing on your tongue as he spilled into your mouth. The salty warmth filled you, and you swallowed greedily, not letting a drop escape.
Chan’s chest heaved, sweat dampening his hairline as he stared down at you in disbelief. “You really just… woke me up like that?” His laugh was breathless, his eyes soft even as his body still shook with the aftershocks.
You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, crawling up his body to lie against his chest. His arm wrapped around you instantly, pulling you tight. He pressed a kiss to your hair, voice still raspy as he murmured, “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
You only smiled, nuzzling into him. “Worth it?”
He chuckled, tipping your chin up to kiss you properly—slow, deep, tender. “Baby, that was the best morning of my life.”
A/n: a fluffy fic I read a couple of days ago about morning Chan triggered me to write this hehe hope u enjoyed <3
Finally finished my DIY SKZOO christmas tree ornaments
They’re def not perfect, but I love them so much 💖
Idea: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DRmW90SDpPV/
Here’s a printable template (DIN A4, 29.7 x 21 cm, no clipping, optimized for 8 cm stars) NOTE: these are mirrored because you draw on the inside of the stars
A smutty one-shot with a huge TW. Established relationship between Chan and Y/N, where she opens up about past trauma and he reclaims her body for her. I found imagining this somewhat healing, maybe it can do the same for others.
pairing: idol!Bang Chan x fem!reader
genre: fluff, smut
word count: 1419
warnings: mentions of past sexual assault (non-graphic), mentions of blood, references to trauma and healing, oral (fem receiving)
Your autumn walk with Chan had ended abruptly when the rain began. A heavy shower poured down on you, making you rush home while he held his coat over both of you. After drying up and changing your wet clothes into warm ones you cuddled up on the couch. Chris wrapped you in his arms from behind while his body pressed against yours. You put on ‚How to Get Away with Murder‘ – an old show the two of you had recently become obsessed with.
The topic of the episode hit a little too close. Even though the sexual assault you had experienced happened years in the past and you had actively worked through the trauma, the memory still stuck with you. He noticed a subtle shift in you and knew something was up. Maybe it was a change in the way you breathed, maybe the slight stiffness in your body. You had been a couple for eight months and by now you knew each other’s moods by heart.
He pulled you closer, his voice low against your ear: „You okay, babe?“. You tried to keep it vague at first, telling him „Yeah, the episode just reminds me of something that happened to me, but everything’s okay“, your voice as steady as possible. His expression froze, eyes wide with concern. „Do you want to tell me?“, he asked in a comforting tone. You hesitated, not because you didn’t trust him, but because saying it aloud always cost something
Chan cupped your cheek and gently turned your face toward him. „Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.“ You shifted onto your back as you hit the pause button and took a deep inhale before starting to talk. While you didn’t include many details about the violent events themselves, you explained how a guy you knew got handsy as you watched a movie. How you told him off, how he didn’t take any of your noes seriously and how he forced himself on you. Chan listened in silence, his brows furrowed, and as you got to the point where you detailed your attempts at fighting back, he took your hand into his, gently stroking its back with his thumb.
You finished by explaining how you finally managed to kick the guy out while blood was running down your thighs. While you had told the story so often that the words came out detached, your boyfriend’s brown eyes had become watery. His expression shifted between rage, empathy, and heartbreak. He looked speechless, so you filled the silence. „Anyway“, you sighed, „I never went to the police. I didn’t want to face any more about it and also I‘m pretty sure my mom would be in jail now for killing him if I had told her“.
He chuckled for the fraction of a second at the idea of your mom going full berserk, but his overall expression stayed the same, his voice cracked at the idea of anyone hurting you, „God, Y/N, I‘m so sorry he did that to you“. „Thank you, Channie!“, you said before kissing his plush lips softly, „it’s fine though. I regret not going to the police, but it’s too late now“. Chan pulled you close, both of you burying your faces into each other while the TV‘s screen saver painted the room in a gradient of bright colors. The mix of vanilla and musk on his neck smelled of adventure and home all at once.
Suddenly he pulled back, lifted your chin up with his thumb and looked deeply into your eyes. „Can you do something for me, babygirl?“, you nodded, „Take off your pants and lie back“. The soft tone made his voice sound like honey and carried that gentle gravity that made obedience feel safe, not demanded. Even though you felt like that was a bit of an odd request after such a conversation you did as he asked, raising an eyebrow at him when you were done. „Now what?“, you almost huffed at him.
He took your wrists into his hands and pressed a kiss to each of them. „Now“, he whispered with smooth confidence, „I‘m gonna kiss every single spot of your body that idiot disrespected and reclaim it for you“. Your features softened and you looked like you were about to cry. His sweet idea reached beyond the wall you had built around this painful memory. He noticed it, closed his eyes and pressed a number of gentle, open-mouthed kisses against your belly while lifting your hoodie up slightly.
Sitting up between your legs his hand slid downwards on your upper thigh before resting it against the inner side. „Is this where the blood was?“ You nodded silently while watching him closely. He leaned down and the fullness of his lips swallowed that part of your thigh before slowly moving in a kissing pattern upwards to your center. „The other leg too?“ Another nod before he dug with his warmth into your sensitive flesh. A single tear escaped from your left eye. You couldn’t have known what effect this simple action would have on your mind. It truly seemed like he had the ability to remove a part of the buried ache with each kiss.
When he reached your panties his eyes found yours and you nodded once more, your eyes tightened and your mouth pressed together sturdy like you were about to go into battle against the injustice you had experienced. He slipped the fabric off of you, looking to you again for permission before kissing along your folds. Your head tilted back, both your lips parted and your hand tangled in his hair, pushing his mouth further into you.
His kisses got more intense, building pressure exactly where you wanted it. A stern expression graced his face when your half-lidded eyes met again while he intertwined your hands. The way he now traced circles around your clit made you arch your back with desire. His soft, thick lips wrapped around the sensitive spot and sucked on it deliciously slow. Your moans mixed with his as he breathed against you, making your vision go blurry.
Chan released your hands while licking a stripe downwards to your entrance with his flattened tongue, but just to slide his arms under your thighs and lock your fingers again immediately. Even though you had already been close to climaxing he took his time and gently pressed tongue kiss after kiss around your wet core, his eyes closed in pleasure. You looked at his beautiful side-lit features appreciatively and felt your love for him deepen even more. This wasn’t just about getting you off. He took his self-invented ritual seriously, turning pain into warmth with every touch.
When he noticed you squirming under his lips he amped up the intensity, sucking and lapping on the area around your opening. „Chris, please, I need you inside of me“, you begged breathlessly. His thick tongue dug into your core instantly, your chest jerking up in response. You squeezed his hands tightly while the thrusts of his tongue combined with his lips on the outside lit up your nerve-endings perfectly. Moaning uncontrollably your walls tightened around him and the waves of pleasure rolling over you made your whole body twitch.
He slowed down his movements, the licking thrusts turning into tongue kisses and ultimately just his lips pressing against your flushed core softly. Exhausted but happy you let your head fall back while his now rested against your thigh, looking at you lovingly through his blonde bangs. His fingers loosely played with yours until he decided to get up. You immediately shivered at the loss of his warmth, so he covered you with a soft blanket and pressed a deep kiss to your forehead. „I‘ll be right back, darling“, his words brushed against your skin, making you snuggle deep into the thick fabric.
Chan returned with a warm, damp towel and cleaned you up carefully, erasing the last remnants of the bad memories your skin had carried for too long. When he was done he squeezed under the blanket facing you. The brown of his eyes stared into yours hypnotizingly. „Thank you for doing this, Chris. It actually helped“, you whispered while resting your forehead onto his. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. „No, thank you for being so amazing and strong, Y/N!“, he smiled at you, his thick arms looping around you in an embrace that lasted beyond both of you falling asleep.
Sorry this took so long, life has tried its best to kick me down lately. Happy to be back writing and continuing Y/N‘s and Channie‘s story 🖤
pairing: idol!Bang Chan x fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1321
warnings: none, basically pure sweetness
It started in a crowd of thousands, just another concert night. But when his eyes found yours, something shifted – a story that stretches from the stage lights to the spaces in between, where distance, timing, and quiet glances become everything.
You had been back home for a week already, but the feeling that had settled in your body since saying goodbye to Chris in Rome still hadn’t left. That weird mix of devastation over not having him near you anymore, but also cherishing the memories you were able to make was your constant companion these days. He texted whenever he could, leaving no doubt how much he missed you. But most days were slow because the group was buried in comeback prep.
You tried focusing on your own life, sharing little glimpses with him. A funny thought here, a cute selfie there. Sometimes he sent you voice messages, which always managed to ruin you in a multitude of ways. No matter what he talked about, you replayed them a dozen times. Partly because that voice made your muscles betray you, but mostly because it felt like he was near again. At nighttime you snuggled into the pillow you had secretly titled your "Chan pillow". It obviously could not compare to him at all, but at least it was soft and fluffy and you could drift off to sleep while imagining it was his chest your head was resting on.
The talk with your best friend went a bit different than expected. She wasn’t really into K-pop, so even though she knew Chan was famous she didn’t freak out like another Stay probably would have. It almost was like you‘d told her about dating any regular guy and she vetted him and his behavior towards you accordingly. She questioned whether a real relationship was even possible – a thought that still lingered in the back of your own mind – but she loved seeing you this happy, crushing on someone who was treating you well and appreciated you. A huge chunk of the heaviness you had carried in your heart dropped and you spent the whole evening having a blast with her.
Two days later, you had just finished work and basked in the rays of sun that made it through the window onto your bed, Chris called you. „Hi, everything alright?“, you asked, wondering about the unusual choice of communication. „Hi! Yeah, everything’s great. Just finally have some free time and there’s nothing I‘d rather do than hear your voice“, he replied so softly it made you melt on the spot. Your mouth formed into an overwhelmed pout and you purred „that’s so sweet“. You could hear him smile at your cute reaction while he told you how much he had missed you. You both asked each other questions about all the big and small things you knew mattered to the other one and the hours flew by.
You noticed how tiredness overtook him, even if he tried to fight it because he didn’t want the call to end. „Oh by the way, I told Changbin-ah all about you“, the words spilling out of his mouth slurred while he was half-asleep already, „how amazing you are, how happy you make me, how beautiful you are, how lucky I feel that we met and how I want you to be mine“. You had to physically restrain yourself from squealing at how impossibly cute he sounded, all rambly and half-asleep. Instead you told him „but I am already yours, babe“, causing him to continue. „No, but you’re not, not really, not officially. And it’s like, I don’t know, you didn’t even seem to like the idea when I joked about it“, his feelings spilling out of him freely since he was on the verge of falling asleep.
„Channie, honey, is that really what you think? I thought you were just joking and didn’t mean anything by it. I‘d love to be your girl“, you explained to the cutely-whiney man on the other end of the world. Slow, steady breathing was the only response you got. „And I think you need to sleep now, sir“, you raised your voice slightly. His eyes shot open before he nuzzled back into his pillow again and smilingly told you „yeah, you’re right. Good night, babe“. „Good night, cutie pie“, you responded before hanging up the phone. Before getting up to continue your evening you just laid there for a few minutes, grinning from ear to ear.
When you woke up the next morning the call still echoed in your head. Since your teasing game was a match for Chan‘s, you texted him „So, you told Binnie all about me, huh?“ while doing your morning routine. He was astonishingly fast to respond. „I thought I only dreamed telling you about that, damn“, you could imagine him panicking about it and shot him another text, reading „It was cute tbh“. „Wait, but you also said some things …“, your eyes got wide when you saw his notification pop up. A few minutes later you typed your reply: „Moving on 💀“.
Your work day was busy, so you had almost forgotten about the texting exchange when your doorbell rang. A delivery driver came up the stairs, carrying a medium sized box. You squinted your eyes because you hadn’t ordered anything recently. He noticed your confused expression, shrugged and handed you the package, which was surprisingly light considering its size. You put it down on your living room table and carefully opened it. A beautiful flower bouquet greeted you, consisting of a variety of red and pink blooms, which were surrounded by some light green leafs, and three red roses in its center. A small card was stuck on a branch at the back of the arrangement. There weren’t many words on it, but those lead your mouth to hang open slightly: „Y/N, can I be your boyfriend? – C“
You blinked slowly, rereading the card twice, just to be sure. Sitting on the couch you stared at the stunning flowers in utter disbelief, the card still in hand. Sure, you had told him you wanted to be his girlfriend, but didn’t think it would even be possible with all the assumed restrictions in his contract. This was absolutely bonkers and the most natural thing at the same time to you. Just weeks ago, he hadn’t even known you existed. And yet your connection felt deeper, almost divine, as if you were made for each other.
Chris loved when you sent him photos, so you got your phone and took a few selfies holding the bouquet. You chose the cutest one with your eyes squeezed tightly and sent it to him, simply captioned „Yes please 😘“. A few minutes later your phone lit up with a wall of text from him, telling you his surprise about the delivery being so fast and how his nerves went so crazy at dance practice that he constantly messed up. The message ended with „I‘m so goddamn happy I get to call the most beautiful woman in the world mine now. Can’t wait to see you again, my love“.
Other people might have called it cringe, but you found it pure. His honest, unfiltered appreciation of you healed a part of you that you didn’t even know needed it. You got the shirt he had let you keep from the hanger and snuggled into it, losing yourself for a moment in his residual fresh scent, and tapped your phone to reveal your lock screen. Whenever you left home it displayed your favorite non-Chan photo, but currently it was set to the selfie he had taken of the both of you in front of the Trevi fountain.
Nothing would have made you happier than to be this close to him again. But your boyfriend, you smiled cheekily at getting to use that term now, was thousands of kilometers away. While letting the memories of your time in Rome take over, you closed your eyes. „You‘re the sweetest, Channie. I appreciate you so much ❤️“, you sent the text and floated through the rest of the day, smiling like an idiot.
summary: a normal morning with chan spirals into something intimate and overwhelming when he decides you need to see yourself through his eyes - spread across the bathroom vanity, gasping his name as he worships every part of you
a/n: chan + praise + mirror = everything. this fic is extra soft but also very filthy (i’m not even sorry). hope you need a shower after this 😏
you wake up slowly, the room hazy with early morning light slipping through the blinds. the sheets are warm around you, carrying chan’s scent, but his side of the bed is empty. you stretch, body still heavy with sleep, and that’s when you hear it: the muffled sound of water running. the shower.
for a moment you just lie there, listening. the steady rhythm of it, the soft echo from the bathroom, and you smile, drowsy and fond, because you know chan is in there. he always wakes before you.
you push the blanket away and pad across the room, bare feet against cool floorboards. the bathroom door is open, warm mist curling through the gap.
inside, the mirror is already fogged up. the air is thick with heat, with the faint scent of chan’s shampoo. you see him behind the glass of the shower - broad shoulders hunched slightly as he tilts his head back, water pouring over his hair and down the curve of his spine.
for a second you just watch, your chest tightening with something tender. he looks so peaceful like this, alone in the quiet of morning.
then you slip the door fully open, stepping in. the tiles are warm from the steam, your body instantly damp with the moisture in the air. chan doesn’t notice right away, too lost in the water, his hands dragging over his arms, down his chest.
you grin to yourself, peel your sleep shirt over your head, and drop your underwear in a small pile on the floor. the steam clings to your skin, and when you slide the glass door back, the rush of heat envelops you completely.
he startles, eyes wide when he finally notices you stepping in.
"oh-", he breathes, blinking water from his lashes, "what are you doing up?"
you laugh softly, stepping closer until the spray hits your shoulders, the heat sinking deep, "i heard the water. thought i’d join you"
his expression softens instantly, surprise melting into warmth. he reaches out without hesitation, his hands finding your waist, pulling you into him.
the water cascades over both of you now, drumming against your skin, and the closeness makes your chest ache. his body is slick with heat and soap, his arms sliding around your back like he’s been waiting for this.
"it’s too early for you, you usually don’t get up this early", he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your damp temple.
"you’re the one making me shower before i’m fully awake", you tease, resting your forehead briefly against his chest.
he chuckles, the sound vibrating through you. his fingers trace small circles over your hips, sliding lower, then back up again - not sexual, just familiar, grounding.
you tilt your head up, catching his gaze through the mist. water trails down his face, clinging to his jaw, dripping from the ends of his hair.
"hi", you whisper.
"hi", he echoes, lips quirking.
you lean up and kiss him, soft and slow, the kind of kiss that lingers without urgency. his mouth tastes like him, warm and soft, and his hand cups the back of your neck as though you might slip away if he doesn’t hold you.
the shower beats steady around you, time blurring. he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your shoulders, lazy and tender. you can’t help but laugh when his wet hair sticks to your face, and he laughs too, brushing it back with clumsy fingers.
"you’re supposed to be getting clean", you murmur against his jaw.
"i am", he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth again, "you just make it more entertaining"
you stay like that for a long time, tangled together under the stream, lips brushing, hands sliding over slick skin. there’s no rush, no urgency - only the warmth of the morning and the comfort of being with him, here, like this.
the water finally cools, and you laugh against his chest when goosebumps rise on your skin.
"okay, we should get out before we both turn into prunes", you mumble, pulling back just enough to see his grin.
chan kisses your forehead one last time before sliding the door open, letting cooler air spill into the shower. the two of you step out, dripping everywhere. the tiles are slick beneath your feet, but his hand is steady on your arm as he passes you a towel from the rack.
you wrap it around yourself, pressing the soft cotton against your damp skin. he does the same, rubbing another towel briskly through his wet hair until it sticks up in every direction. you laugh, walking closer to him while you pat yourself dry.
"you look like a baby lion", you giggle, watching him attack his head with the towel.
"hey", he protests, though his grin gives him away, "you’re just jealous of the volume"
"volume? it looks like you got electrocuted"
he gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest, "wow. still so early in the morning and you’re already bullying me"
"just telling the truth", you shrug, biting back a smile.
chan watches you, quiet for a moment, and something shifts in the air. it’s subtle at first - the way his gaze lingers, the way his chest rises deeper with his breath. then he’s moving closer, one hand reaching out to rest on your waist.
you blink, caught off guard, before his other hand joins the first, pulling you closer by the towel still loose around you.
"come here", he murmurs.
his mouth finds yours before you can respond, soft at first, cautious like he’s giving you a chance to pull away. you don’t. instead you melt into it, your fingers curling into the damp hair at the back of his neck. he exhales against your lips like he’s been waiting for this exact second all morning.
the kiss deepens quickly, his tongue brushing yours, and suddenly there’s nothing soft about it anymore. it’s hungry, pressing, desperate, his hands sliding lower until his fingers are gripping the curve of your ass. you gasp into his mouth when he presses you closer, your towel slipping against your skin.
"chris…"
he groans at the sound of his name, pulling back just far enough to look at you, his forehead pressing to yours, "can’t… stop kissing you", he admits, breathless.
your hands slide down to his shoulders, nails grazing over the damp skin there, and that’s all it takes. he bends slightly, his palms firm on your waist, and in one smooth motion he lifts you.
you gasp, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, "chris!"
"shh", he soothes, his grin flashing quick as he sets you down on the cool surface of the bathroom vanity, "i’ve got you"
his body stays between your thighs, pressing close, his hands flattening against your sides as if to anchor you. his towel shifts lower on his hips as he settles in, and the look in his eyes makes your stomach twist hot.
he steps even closer, nudging your knee with his hip until you spread your legs just enough for him to fit between, your bodies so close now you don’t know where one ends and the other begins. his towel slips dangerously low on his hips, and your eyes flick down before you can stop yourself. he notices, of course - he always notices.
"see something you like?", he teases, his voice warm, but soft.
you roll your eyes, trying to hide the way your pulse stutters, "you wish"
he hums, leaning in, the damp heat of his body soaking through your towel, "i do, actually, because i’m seeing something i really like", he says simply, and you can’t find a comeback. your throat goes dry, your stomach tight.
you avert your gaze, fiddling with the edge of your towel, but he doesn’t let you retreat. his fingers find your chin, gentle, tilting your face back towards him.
"don’t do that", he whispers, suddenly serious.
"do what?", your voice is small.
"pretend like you don’t believe me", his thumb strokes over your jaw, tender, "you’re beautiful. you always have been"
your heart thuds loudly. you want to brush it off, make another joke, but you can’t. not when his eyes are on you like this - steady, unshakable, like he’s trying to make you see what he sees.
"chris…", you start, but the words fall apart.
he shakes his head, leaning closer until his forehead rests against yours, "don’t argue. just… let me tell you. let me show you"
your breath catches, but you nod.
his lips brush yours, not quite a kiss, just a promise. then he leans down, trailing kisses along your jaw, down your throat. his hands are patient, tracing over the towel at your waist, then tugging at the knot until it loosens.
the towel slips, pooling around your hips, leaving you bare above. your skin prickles under the cool air, but his mouth is everywhere - warm and wet against your collarbone, your shoulder.
"so pretty", he murmurs into your skin, the words vibrating low in his chest.
you shiver, your fingers clenching in the fabric of his towel. he notices, pulling back just enough to look at you again.
"do you know how much i mean it?", he asks quietly, "because i’ll say it until you do"
you don’t answer - you can’t - so you pull him back towards you instead, your lips crashing into his.
the kiss is deeper this time, needier. your towel falls completely, slipping to the floor unnoticed. his follows soon after, both of you bare now, pressed together, skin still damp from the shower.
his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer until you’re perched on the vanity, your legs wrapping instinctively around him.
you moan into his mouth, fingers tangling in his wet hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp. he groans in response, the sound muffled against your lips, and it makes your stomach twist with heat.
he presses you back gently, laying you against the cool surface of the vanity. then he pulls away from your mouth, trailing down your throat again. his lips find your pulse, your collarbone, each kiss slow and reverent.
"you’re so beautiful", he whispers again, like he can’t stop himself.
you swallow hard, trying to breathe, but your chest is tight, your body buzzing. then, he is moving you. turning you around so you’re sitting down, looking at yourself in the mirror with chan right behind you.
chan straightens slightly, his hands sliding down your thighs. he shifts them, guiding one foot up onto the sink to your right, the other onto the sink to your left. the position leaves you completely open, completely exposed, your reflection staring back at you from the fogged-up mirror.
your breath stutters at the sight - yourself spread for him, his body pressed close behind, his eyes fixed on you through the mirror.
"look", he murmurs against your ear, "look how perfect you are"
you can barely breathe. the sight of yourself like this, with him - it makes heat curl low in your belly, makes your skin burn.
"each time you fall apart for me…", he continues, his voice low, rough, "i want you to see how beautiful you are. how much i love it. how much i love you"
your chest squeezes, eyes stinging, because it feels too much. his words, his gaze, the reflection in the mirror - it’s overwhelming, in the best way.
"chris…", you whisper, but your voice is already breaking.
he kisses the side of your neck, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. you arch into his touch, your moan echoing in the steamy room.
you can’t look away from the mirror now - can’t stop watching the way your chest heaves, the way your mouth falls open, the way his strong arms wrap around you, grounding you.
and he watches you, his own gaze dark and tender in equal measure, as if he’s memorising every second.
his breath is hot on your skin as he presses closer, chest to your back, his hands sliding slowly down your stomach. you’re fully open, your legs braced against the sinks, the cool porcelain beneath your feet contrasting with the warmth of his body behind you.
in the mirror, you see yourself - spread, exposed, your cunt glistening already, flushed all the way to your chest. chan’s eyes aren’t on your reflection though, not yet. they’re fixed lower, on you, watching the way his hands skim down until his fingers brush between your thighs.
you gasp, your hips twitching at the first touch.
"so sensitive already", he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear, "so wet for me. do you see it?"
your eyes flicker back to the mirror, and you whimper at the sight. his hand between your legs, two fingers sliding carefully through your folds, parting you slowly. his broad chest rising and falling behind you, the tension in his jaw. the image makes your stomach clench.
"look", he says softly, "look how beautiful you are like this"
you moan as his middle finger circles your clit, feather-light at first, then pressing just enough to make your toes curl against the sinks.
"fuck, chris", you breathe, your head dropping back against his shoulder.
he kisses along your temple, his eyes on your reflection now , "that’s it. let me hear you"
his fingers slip lower, pressing at your entrance. you see the way your body yields for him, how easily he slides one finger inside, then another, stretching you, filling you.
your moan is sharp, needy, and your thighs tremble where they’re braced wide.
"watch", he whispers, his thumb finding your clit again, "watch how perfect you are when you take me in. so fucking tight already, baby"
you can’t stop. your gaze stays locked on the mirror, on the way his hand works you open, his fingers pumping into you, curling just right until your stomach knots and your mouth falls open in a silent cry.
your hand flies towards him, gripping his forearm, nails biting into his skin. he groans low at the sting, thrusting his fingers deeper.
"that’s it", he praises, kissing your shoulder, "you feel so good, sweetheart. do you know how pretty you look right now?"
you shake your head, desperate, the words tangling in your throat, "chris, please-"
"please what?", his voice is a low rasp. his thumb circles faster on your clit, dragging helpless cries from your throat, "tell me what you need. tell me so i can give it to you"
"don’t stop", you manage, your hips grinding down against his hand, "fuck- please, don’t stop"
he groans at your words, his forehead pressing to your temple, his reflection meeting yours in the mirror.
"never", he says firmly, "i’ll never stop giving you what you need"
his fingers curl again, finding that spot inside you, and your entire body jolts. you cry out, eyes wide in the mirror, watching yourself unravel in his arms.
"look at you", he whispers, breathless now, "falling apart for me. so gorgeous when you lose yourself like this"
your chest is heaving, sweat and steam making your skin shine. every nerve in your body is burning, and the sound of his voice - low, reverent - pushes you closer to the edge.
"chris- i-", your words break into another moan, your hand scrambling back blindly until you find him.
your fingers wrap around his cock, hot and hard against his stomach. he groans, a deep, guttural sound, his hips bucking forward instinctively into your touch.
"fuck, baby", he pants, his rhythm faltering for a moment as you stroke him, slick with pre-cum, "you’re gonna be the end of me"
you squeeze lightly, pumping him as his fingers continue working inside you. the pace is frantic now, both of you losing rhythm, losing control.
your moans mingle, echoing in the bathroom. his forehead rests against your cheek, his breath harsh in your ear.
"look at us", he groans, eyes flicking to the mirror, "both of us, touching each other, making each other feel so good"
you do. you look. you see yourself flushed, trembling, his hand buried between your thighs, your hand wrapped around his cock. his expression - lips parted, eyes dark, jaw tense - is enough to tip you over the edge.
"chris… oh my god-", you cry, your body clenching around his fingers as your orgasm slams through you.
he groans your name, his cock twitching in your hand, and he curses, hot and broken.
"fuck- baby, keep going", he begs, thrusting into your fist.
you squeeze harder, stroking faster despite the way your body shakes from your own release. he thrusts once, twice more before he comes undone, spilling hot and thick into your hand, moaning into your neck.
the mirror shows it all - the way your bodies explode together, the way his hips stutter against your hand, the way his forehead drops to your shoulder as his release overtakes him.
your chest is heaving, every inch of you trembling, slick and heat clinging between your thighs. your hand is still wrapped around him, sticky with his release, and yet you don’t let go. you can’t. your grip softens, slowing, but you keep him in your palm, stroking lazily, needing the contact.
his groan rumbles against your skin, deep and low, his breath hot where his lips hover at your shoulder, "baby…", he rasps, voice broken, "you’re- fuck, you’re gonna ruin me"
still, he doesn’t move your hand away.
instead, one of his own hands is splayed against your stomach, damp with sweat, while the other drifts higher. he cups your breast, his thumb grazing your nipple with feather-light touches, barely there, but enough to make you whimper and arch back against him.
you twitch, sensitive, overstimulated, but craving it anyway, "chris…"
he chuckles weakly, the sound vibrating against your ear, "so greedy. already fell apart for me, and you still want more?"
his teeth graze the curve of your neck, and you moan again, your fist twitching around his cock. even softened, he’s heavy and warm in your hand, and when your thumb brushes over the head, slick with his cum, his whole body shudders.
"fuck", he gasps, biting gently at your jaw, "don’t stop, please- just… gentle"
your lips part, a shaky laugh escaping as you obey, stroking him slow, teasing, watching in the mirror how his eyes flutter shut.
"look", he murmurs, lifting his head enough so you can see his reflection. his eyes are hazy, dark with bliss, his mouth swollen from kissing your skin, "look at us. can’t even let each other go, huh?"
he pinches your nipple lightly, rolling it between his fingers, and you cry out, your thighs trembling against the porcelain. his hand steadies you, palm pressing to your sternum, holding you against him.
"so beautiful like this", he whispers again, his forehead pressing to the side of your head, "so perfect in my arms"
you squeeze him in response, your strokes faltering as your body trembles from the oversensitivity sparking through you. still, you don’t release him.
"chris…", you whisper, broken and needy, "don’t let go of me"
"never", he answers instantly, breath hot on your ear. his lips brush your damp skin, tracing your pulse, pressing soft, reverent kisses there, "i’m never letting you go, sweetheart"
his hand slips down your ribs, thumb tracing circles at the underside of your breast, before skimming back to your nipple. he flicks it, gentle but insistent, and your whole body arches against him, another moan spilling out before you can stop it.
you’re too raw, too undone, but the way he touches you - careful, coaxing, worshipful - makes you ache all over again.
and when you look into the mirror, seeing both of you there - sweat-damp hair, flushed skin, your hand still stroking him while his palm lingers on your chest and his lips kiss at your neck - you can’t help but whisper:
"we have to clean up again"
he groans softly, his lips curving against your skin, "we have to, yeah"
you both laugh weakly, breathless, but neither of you move, still clinging, still touching, even as your bodies slowly come down from the peak.
the air in the bathroom is thick, humid from the earlier shower, sticky now with sweat and sex musk clinging to your skin. your legs are trembling where they’re still braced against the sinks, and chan notices before you even think of moving.
"easy, baby", he murmurs, brushing your hair back with the gentlest sweep of his fingers, "you’re shaking"
he carefully slides his hands under your thighs, easing them down from their spread perch on the sinks. you sigh at the relief, leaning into his chest as your feet touch the cool tile again. he doesn’t let you like that for long - his arms wrap firmly around your waist and legs, guiding you so you turn around to look at him, with him standing between your legs once again. you place your arms around his shoulders, his hands on your waist.
"i’m going to take care of you", he says, voice rough but tender.
you let him peel your hands back, his touch lingering as though he doesn’t want to lose the contact either. he leans forward, brushing his lips across yours - just a ghost of a kiss, careful, but enough to steal your breath all over again.
"stay here", he whispers, nudging your hip gently against the counter, "don’t move"
he slips away, grabbing one of the soft hand towels by the sink. you watch him as he wets it under warm water, wringing it out with practiced hands. your chest aches at the sight - chan, with his damp curls falling into his eyes, his broad shoulders flexing as he moves, doing something so small and domestic, so him.
then he’s back in front of you, tilting your chin up with a soft, coaxing hand.
"hold still for me"
the warm cloth touches your skin, and you exhale in relief. he wipes carefully at your chest, your stomach, then lower, his eyes meeting yours every few strokes to make sure you’re okay.
you flush under his gaze, whispering, "you don’t have to-"
"i want to", he cuts in, soft but firm. his smile is faint, tired but glowing, "let me"
you nod, biting your lip, and he continues, his touch steady and reverent. when he finally dips the towel between your thighs, you gasp, your hips twitching away instinctively, too sensitive. he murmurs, "shh, i know, i know. just gentle", his free hand strokes your hip soothingly until you relax enough for him to finish.
when he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and cups your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "perfect", he says simply, like it’s the most obvious truth in the world.
your throat tightens.
"chris…"
"hm?"
"you always say that", you murmur, staring at the mirror instead of his eyes, "that i’m perfect, beautiful… but i don’t…", your words trail off, fragile, vulnerable.
he stiffens, then softens again as he leans down, forcing you to look at him, "you don’t believe me?"
you shake your head faintly, shame burning your cheeks.
chan exhales slowly, as though steadying himself. then he turns you gently so you’re facing the mirror again, his chest pressed to your back, his arms wrapped tight around you.
"look", he whispers against your ear, "look at you. flushed, glowing, messy in the most beautiful way. look how good you are in my arms. that’s mine. that’s us"
your breath hitches as he speaks, his reflection impossibly soft, his lips moving against the curve of your neck.
"every time you fall apart for me, i swear i could cry with how beautiful you are", he murmurs, "you don’t ever need to doubt it, baby. not when i can prove it to you every single day"
your eyes sting suddenly, overwhelmed by the weight of his devotion.
you twist in his hold, facing him again, your damp hair sticking to your cheeks, "chris…"
before you can say more, he kisses you - slow, tender, unhurried. no hunger this time, just warmth and love, his hands cupping your jaw as though you’re the most fragile thing in the world.
when you break apart, you’re both smiling faintly, the heaviness melting into something lighter. he brushes his nose against yours and whispers, "shower round two? i think we deserve it"
you laugh, breathless, "you mean to clean up, or…?"
his grin is mischievous, dimples peeking, "both?"
you swat his arm weakly, still giggling, but let him take your hand and lead you back towards the shower. and as the water turns on, steam rising around you again, you know it’s not just another round waiting - it’s everything, the quiet, the laughter, and the love stitched into every touch.
Channie, it’s a privilege to be your fan. I appreciate everything you do and everything you are. May this new year of your life be filled with joy, wonder and love. I hope the wind carries my biggest hug to you, birthday boy! 🖤
