Office puppy, follows me. // BangChan (m)
Pairing [Obsessive! Chan x Reader]
Genre [Office Love, Smut, Dark Romance]
Summary [Countless meetings with goodbye, both saying no, you - to the growing feelings, him - to the deepening obsession of you until one night under the influence you stop saying no.]
Warnings [obsession, smut (aphrodisiac influenced, unprotected sex, semi-public (in elevator)]
Rating [+18]
Word Count [3,6k]
[A/N] - It's a story that has been in my drafts for a while now and I decided this is the best it can get. If you feel like it's a bit incomplete, then it's because I lost where I was going with this, but still, I thought it would be better to see the day of light rather than just delete it. So I still hope you will like this incomplete version, my dear readers.
As always, sorry for the typos!
SKZ Masterlist ///
Everyone has their own types of fantasies. Chan has one; you also have one.
In every sharp-cut gaze, there's a hidden thought vineing itself around his mind, creating intricate mazes and the deeper he gets into it, the more lost he gets without a clear way out. His eyes capture you in their reflection, hiding you away in a philosophical transparent glass cage; if you enter a room, his eyes always follow. It's a fact, like you need air to breathe.
Chan lost count of how many times he watched you type on your computer across from his cubicle and play with the image of your manicured fingers touching his skin instead. Wonder if your hand would be shaky like his from nerves, or if you would be confident in lacing your fingers together if you dated. If you would place a finger under his chin to make him look at you and smile. Chan knows that his fantasies are beyond healthy.
If he were normal, he wouldn't feel a sharp pain in his chest every time you smile at someone else. Even the most innocent accidents, like your shoulder brushing against someone else's as you pass by, would set his emotions on fire. Each time someone so much as lightly touches you, his jaw tightens and his fist clenches under the desk. An unhealthy amount of jealousy floods his veins, like cold water is dumped over him, as impulses to whisk you away get unbearably strong. The demons that whisper in his head that tell him he should take you away and lock you up so no one can take you away from him are getting bolder each day.
If you knew what passes through his mind whenever you thank him for bringing you coffee, you would certainly feel disgusted by him and that scares him more than anything else. The sole reason he can hold on and not act on his desires.
Every workday in the office, Chan battles with his inner shadow, who would with pleasure bury its claws into you, and as long as he comes out a winner at the end of the day, you don't notice any of it.
Unaware, you peacefully sip your coffee, double-shot espresso with milk, no sugar. Excitely chat with your co-workers about your day or what movies you want to watch next, and sometimes- the topic of conversation leans toward your manager.
The way everyone describes him in the office is distantly polite, professional and demanding respect in the way he carries himself. Even when they all agree that there's something sinister hiding in his character, you make sure to defend his case. Under his mask of indifference, he doesn't strike fear in you when making eye contact like in the others. You firmly believe he's misunderstood to a degree, yet it's unmistakable that you receive different treatment than your colleagues. Not in terms of work-related stuff, but you're the only one he brings coffee for, asks about your day or offers to take you home even if you politely decline every time.
Whenever you're alone together in the elevator after work hours, there's this tension you feel. A line between professional and personal feelings which you are afraid to cross.
Chan's handsome. Unquestionable. You have two perfectly working eyes to admire his mid-long messy hair, a few strands curled behind his ear, not to think about his ass in that formal wear and strong biceps under his white shirt.
Chan is unaware that you notice him in many ways as well, but he sure knows that even if you do, it can't be to the extent he pays attention to every little thing about you.
Like now, as you sit at your desk, your lips are pursed as you concentrate on the data analysis for today's meeting. When you're deeply focused, you tend to chew your lower lip or mess up your hair by going through it with your fingers too many times to count. Tuned to your every little quirk and habit, he places your coffee on the table as his eyes scan through your document.
Your shoulders stiffen as you feel his hand reach over your shoulder to grab the mouse and click a few times on the screen to clear up your data. His hand is warm over yours, and the way he leans over you is followed by the scent of his cologne.
"If you divide this, the data becomes clearer to see." You nod your head along, dizzy from his proximity. His eyes skim over your features. It's not every day he can watch you from up close, and he uses this opportunity to inhale your scent and feel your warmth seep into his skin without acting like a total creep. Your faces are close enough that you see your blushing self reflected in his eyes.
"Thank you." Conscious of your position, you gently push him away, feeling the eyes of several of your co-workers on you. If Chan weren't so unapproachable, there would have been rumours about your relationship long ago. There's no official ban on dating, but he's still considered your superior.
Chan hopes that you don't feel his body tremble just from a single touch from you. Caught himself in time before he could show too much too soon. He steps back with his usual politeness.
He wants to tell you that if you need anything, you can find him, but decides against it. The moment you meet his eyes as he tries to speak to you, his words become tangled, and his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Outsiders see him as a man with few words, but in reality, he's just afraid to mess up in front of you.
You get this feeling when he walks away that he resembles a sad puppy. It's just an inkling you get as cracks on his mask shine through, and you're the only one noticing.
You don't think much of it. The meeting goes smoothly, and you type away on your computer for the rest of your remaining shift. You used to brush a lot of things off as coincidences, but after you talked with your friend over the weekend and the topic of your hot boss came up, you couldn't help but see more in the little things, like how Chan always clocks out the same time as you. The coffee, the way he always finds you when you need help. Even the obvious signs that you ignored before give you the impression now that Chan might romantically like you.
Do you have the guts to ask him directly? God, no.
However, now the thought took root in your brain, and you can't get it out of your head.
Stressed from the tight schedule of the current project you take part in, and your newfound consciousness about Chan, put a strain on your mood for the next few weeks. So when your friend asked you to go out drinking on Friday, you couldn't say no.
Dolled up, but with a more conservative look, you arrive at the bar your friend mentioned in a small, not too overpopulated area; even so, the inside is packed as you navigate through the crowd. Once you find her, you start ordering drinks. Some of your other friends join in, and as the drinks flow and empty shot glasses pile up on the table, your mood brightens as you chat and laugh with them. It's easy to relax as it reminds you of college days.
You have a couple of drinks in you when you see him step inside. There's a rowdy crowd at the next table, full of handsome men, some of your girlfriends even get entangled, and it blurs the lines between the two tables, naturally mixing. You didn't pay them any mind and didn't really engage in conversation with them except for the introduction.
Chan wasn't originally planning to show up, but because of his friends' repeated calls and urging, which annoyed him enough that he eventually agreed. Annoyance turned into gratitude when he saw you.
Seeing him in casual clothes only made him hotter, and with alcohol in your veins, your eyes didn't avert like usual as he approached. Ignoring his friends, he stalled in front of you. Your friends and his are watching your intense staring with curiosity. You don't know who spoke first; it doesn't even matter, but even under the slight nervousness and shaky smiles, you inhaled sharply and called him, "Manager."
Your best friend's eyes widen in realisation. Giving you and Chan room to talk, she slips away with a smirk, and Chan takes the open seat beside you without question.
"We're not in the office, Ms y/n." His frown is endearing. Slightly buzzed from the shots, your mouth opens without a second thought.
"Yet you're also calling me politely." Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes sparkle as you look at him. You're already irresistible in his eyes, and now, as you slightly lean closer to him on your own accord, it's even harder for him to keep himself in check. The smell of your perfume is dizzying; he can get drunk on your expressions and closeness without a single sip of alcohol.
"Do you enjoy your night so far, y/n?" The way your name rolls off his lips at the end of his question makes you feel very dangerous emotions.
"Yes, it's fun." You shake your head when your friend offers you another shot. Now that Chan is here, you don't want to get hammered and make a fool of yourself, so it's best if you stop drinking from now on.
You turn back to him, curiosity getting the better of you. "I'm surprised to see you here."
"Unlike in the office rumours, I do have friends." Chan smiles when you blush, knowing exactly what you meant.
"I don't believe in rumours." Feeling bold, you place your hand on his arm. Trying to make a point here.
Chan freezes up, your fingers weighing heavily on his skin, hyperaware of it. The sheen of sparkle from your eyes and your slightly warmer body are clear signs that you're already tipsy. Your actions are moving on instinct rather than thoughtful gestures.
Before he can answer, his friends try to whisk him away for a drink. You motion for him to go, as he has already ignored them; you don't want to keep him too much.
Your friend catches you the moment you're alone, dragging you to the bathroom to interrogate you about what just happened. You spray some cold water on your face, sobering up a bit before you join the others again.
It clicks only when you see him laugh with his friends, his carefully crafted mask falls away piece by piece as the alcohol loosens him up, that you realise you want to kiss him. His entire face lights up, and the smile gives him a boyish charm.
After two bottles of water, you become the most sober person in your circle of friends. Two of your girlfriends are deep in the mouths of Changbin and Hyunjin, and the rest continue to drink and chat. The mood is great and the night is young.
It's not the first time a girl has approached Chan, and while he politely declines to give them his number or get a free drink, you can't help but get jealous.
He's not yours, but with each passing minute, your wish that he would be is getting stronger.
He treats you with careful consideration. Barely touches you, even if his eyes always linger. It feels like he's holding back. It's obvious in the way his body leans towards you, and even if someone talks to him, he keeps glancing back at what you're doing.
The night is about to end, and he still hasn't made a move on you.
You bite your lip deciding on silence as you get into the taxi and Chan's figure gets smaller and smaller as the night fades away and you pull the covers over you at home in the comfort of your bed.
You blush when you remember how you touched his chest and arm carelessly throughout the night, yelling into your pillow like a shy teenage girl.
Can you even be professional with him at this point? You certainly doubt that.
Chan looks at the picture his friend took of the two of you, talking and smiling. He keeps staring at it like it would suddenly disappear if he locks his screen.
The night he was dragged out is about to become one of his favourite memories with you. If only he could hold you. Your hand, your face. If you could only smile at him like that. He's too afraid, though, and the weekend ended on a sombre note for both of you. Scared and excited for Monday.
The only sign of your growing impatience is subtle in the way your fingers touch when he hands you coffee. Furthermore, when you ask him to help, you touch his arm or shoulder to grab his attention. Not that his attention is anywhere else. With small gestures, you're driving him insane, and one of those days, he feels his self-control slipping away.
It makes Chan panic how easily he adapts and how much he craves your accidental touches, hoping that your attention will remain only on him. If you'd let him, he would worship the ground you walk on. So he starts to avoid you. It's painful and hard to walk the other way, but it's necessary; he couldn't take a gamble on you finding out his twisted mind.
Dellusion or reality. His mind circles back to the thought that you like him. It's getting dangerous. His hands shake from control when you're near, taking everything in him to not pull you closer the moment your touch finds him.
You don't see any of this turmoil, only notice his presence that becomes less and where before there was closeness, it becomes distance.
It's only a matter of time before one of you will break and end this futile chase.
As you pay more attention to Chan you begin to see behind the shadows of his expression. The slight tremble of control and his possesive eyes.
----
His pupils are dilated, red and dangerous. Breathing shallow and rapid, a sheen of sweat is visible on his temple and neck. His composure is hanging by a thread. His body is pressed against the cold steel wall of the elevator, creating distance from you. His nails are leaving crescent moons on his palm until it bleeds. The drug in his system should be fully potent by now. The fact that he could hold back shows great restraint.
His eyes snap open as you reach for him, his hand firmly grasps your wrist mid-air hovering over his face. The longer strands of his hair obscure his vision darkened by sweat.
"Stop. I can barely control myself." Already out of breath as he speaks.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If you were not ready to help him you wouldn't say that you would take him home.
"Fine. Just breathe." Your fingers press on his chest. It heaves up and down uneasily but he listens as he takes in a huge breath. His eyes close on their own, out of it that he probably doesn't realise he presses your wrist against his mouth. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, taking in your scent. Chan's grip ia firm enough to make the blood rush out of your fingers.
He's clearly losing his grip on self-control.
For a moment you look at the numbers growing as you wait for it to get to floor 9.
Taking advantage of his distraction you pull him in. His hot body crashes against you, your hands steady him pulling him entirely into your embrace. His face rests in the crook of your neck. His shallow breathing intensifies as he takes long sniffs. Smelling your shampoo.
His fingers shake on your back yet his arms wrap around you like a snake finally coiling over its next meal.
"You should've kept your distance." Chan's dark lower-toned voice is making you break out in goosebumps. It's a warning that lacks the previous desperation.
His hands start to wander, lower and lower until it reaches the edge of your t-shirt. His fingertips are hot on your bare back. His lips press on the shell of your ears, his warm breath hits you directly, amplifying the sound of his erratic breathing.
"Last chance to push me away." You can feel it in his tone that this will be the last warning he gives you before the last shreds of his patience wear away. Pushing his luck with wandering hands but never going over the line. Yet.
"Chan, I want you to." You cup his face in both hands. Firm and welcoming that much he can see through his already half-lidded eyes dancing at the edge of insanity from deep desire.
Desire to possess you. Kiss your lips and every inch. He imagines how he would tear your panties in the middle of this elevator and pull you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist and his cock is buried deep in you but he uses the last bits of his discipline he built over the years that he could stop the thought before it can become an action.
It doesn't mean he won't take what he can get. Deciding he waited long enough he pushes you against the cold wall, his lips cover yours, kissing you like his life depends on it.
You can barely catch your breath between his attacks. His fingers cup your face turning your head to a deeper angle, tongue forcefully claiming the inside of your mouth. You didn't think his first kiss would be so aggressive. He treated you so gently before, you need to realise that his carefully crafted persona hides a possesive man.
His kiss is everything. Unrestrained. Hurried. Deep. Passionate.
His kiss doesn't wait for you to keep up, he keeps taking and taking until you're becoming light headed.
It takes a lot of effort to pull away, you almost miss the floor you should get off on.
Chan picks you up effortlessly with one hand under your knees his other looking for his keys in his pockets.
Once he finds it he gives them to you but it's hard to find the lock when he takes the liberty to kiss down your throat, making you miss the lock several times.
Reason is leaving his shining eyes the more he touches your skin. Through your shirt, caressing your back, and under your skirt grabbing a handful of your bottom. You thank god that no one sees this unholy sight that you two make in front of his apartment door.
Your sigh of relief is heard at the same time you can hear the lock finally turning showing a slightly messy living room.
Chan pushes you against the nearest wall, your face squished between the cold concrete and his face marking every visible spot on your neck.
"Let's go to bed." Carding your fingers through his hair you try to calm him down enough to guide him into his bedroom but he has different ideas. Lifting you up with ease not waiting for you to secure your position so you make desperate attempt to keep balanced, your legs around his waist and your hands holding on for dear life around his neck.
"Too far." You shake your head in disbelief, landing on the couch with a huff. His body is crawling over you in pure impatience.
"Need you now." It's not a question anymore, it's a statement.
You can pinpoint the desperation in the way he tries to take your clothes off with trembling fingers. Chan feels like he's going feral when he sees you finally naked under him, enough foreplay with the kisses and teeth that you're already wet when he parts your folds with his fingers. Pushing two in with controlled waves his lips muting your moans with kisses.
He keeps pleasuring you for a few more minutes, his movements growing erratic, speeding up.
Only lets you go till he takes off his own clothes in record speed, but he doesn't let you admire his figure for long before he pushes your hands above your head, holding you down with one over your wrists.
The two of you continue to kiss, naked, on his couch. The temperature is rising, and each touch is hot on your skin. Chan holds onto the plush of your inner thigh, pulling it over his waist. His cock slides between your legs, ready, dripping so much precum. He positions himself with his shaky hand, acting like he will die if he's not inside you in less than a minute.
Knowing that the drug must be in full effect, that might not be so far from the truth. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he opens you up; it's not rushed like you expected.
Inch by inch, it's a steady descent. Once he's fully in, his hips start their rolls. His hands grip the armrest tightly, wanting to give you a slow and sensual feeling, but he's failing to deliver anything other than his desperate thrusts.
There's nothing slow or sweet about how he takes you over, and you're perfectly fine with that. Even if you will be sore tomorrow, or get shy if you remember how the furniture rocked underneath you, your moans too loud to be contained between the four walls of his apartment, all you can focus on right now is the mind-shattering feelings of pleasure. Your body is entirely under his control.
-------
The morning after is not like you expected.
In the morning you fearfully open your eyes, half expecting Chan to be gone and be left alone in your cold bed but once you get over the fear and roll over you feel warmth. His arm wrapped around you. It's a sight for sore eyes, messy hair and relaxed features he looks peaceful and domestic. You can picture every morning like this.
