Synopsis: Ice cream dates with Chan are a tradition, a way to celebrate your friendship every month and make your presence a constant in each other's lives. Little did you know that one of these dates would also be a vehicle for your repressed feelings for him to see the light once and for all.
Word count: 6,1k
Tags: nonidol!au, bsf!chan x f!reader, meet cute, strangers2bsf, bsf2l, basically pwp, a tiny bit of angst but it's mostly fluff, idiots in love, both chan and reader are overwhelmed by the love they have for each other, forced proximity, mentions of food/dessert (ice cream). Explicit content, MDNI. ice cream play, unprotected piv, dirty talk if you squint, a pinch of degradation, love making, praise kink, a little of aftercare.
Cece's note: Hiii! This is Cece. I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed the process of writing it. Though I think there's a lot of descriptive writing in the smut part (sorry guys, trying to find a writting style around here 😞).
Very special thanks to my dear Yuwen @kugiski for being my beta reader! You and your commentary are the best ;)
*Note's extension at the end of the fic.
🎧⠀Inspired by P1harmony's song Wednesday Girl.
🔗⠀Masterlist.
“What flavor did you get?” Chan asks, curiously looking at the ice cream in your hands as you approach the bed.
“Raspberry sorbet and dark chocolate; what about you?”
“It’s pistachio matcha ice cream. I added some chocolate syrup on it; wanna try?” He offers you the spoon with the creamy green substance.
You blink once, looking at it. “Pistachio matcha ice cream?” You huff a little laugh, “Really?”
“Yeah, what about it?” He pouts a little.
“What in the Gen Z, Pilates-era, TikTok marketing is that ice cream flavor?” You laugh again, a bit louder this time.
He rolls his eyes. “Wanna try it or not?”
You shake your head and giggle, “nah, I’m fine.”
He shrugs, shifting closer on the bed.
You like these nights. Once a month, you and him have a little ice cream meeting to update each other about your lives lately. Since you’re both usually so busy with work and other responsibilities, sometimes this is the only time you have to see each other.
These “ice cream parties” take place religiously on the 20th of every month, at your place or his. They are like a celebration of your friendship. Given you met on the 20th of September three years ago at an ice cream shop, it was only logical to keep this a tradition.
Chan remembers that day very well. He had seen you in that shop before. Actually, you were the reason he entered the shop in the first place. Kind of.
He already had the shop on his radar. Though looking at you enter it from across the street that day was the final push he needed to try their ice cream and have some eye candy with you while at it.
It may sound like a dumb reason for a guy so smart as him to enter an establishment only because a pretty girl caught his eye. But that’s just Chan.
Chan is a loverboy; it is public knowledge among those who know him. Even if he denies it, his actions say otherwise, and the way he went back to that shop every Wednesday after work since he first saw you, only to see if he could see you again, supported all the allegations.
It was almost fortuitous, then, when that September 20th he stumbled upon you, making you spill your coffee ice cream all over your white top.
“Shit! The fucking cherry on top,” you muttered.
That day you weren’t going to go to the ice cream shop, but you had had such a stressful day. You decided you deserved a sweet treat to make your heavy feelings more digestible and gather some energy for the rest of the week. Poor little Chan didn’t know he added a bit more sourness to those feelings.
Naturally, he panicked when your bodies practically crashed, and he started to feel his pulse in his ears when he noticed it was you the victim of his clumsiness.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry, uh—” he shuffled his napkin, wanting to help you clean yourself. “I’m really sorry, let me, uh, umm—.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry.”
“No!” He exclaimed. You jumped a little. “I mean, it’s not fine; now your top is stained with, umm…” He stopped for a second, trying to guess the flavor.
“Coffee,” you said drily.
“Shit, that’s worse.”
He just stood there, contemplating your messed-up top. He came back to his senses when you were about to leave. You weren’t enjoying being the center of attention, and certainly didn’t enjoy getting your white top stained with ice cream.
“Wait! Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you another ice cream, even another top, I promise!”
Yet, you ignored his offer and left anyway, leaving a guilty Chan behind.
However, next week, as soon as he saw you entering the place, he already had a redemption plan. As you were deciding what to order that day, he approached you at the counter with a cone of coffee ice cream.
“Hey…” He began, shyly, “I’m—”
“I know who you are. I remember,” you cut him off. There was no real bite in your tone.
“Right… Umm… I just wanted to make sure you were, uuh… Ok? And… Give you this for the ice cream you couldn’t have last week because of… Well, me.” He extended the cone to you. You accepted it.
The nervousness in his voice was so evident it made you smile dimly. You felt a warm wave of tenderness coating your shoulders when you saw his candid expression. He looked as inoffensive as a scolded puppy.
It almost made you shed a tear how clear his eyes looked under the easy sunset light entering through the large windows of the shop.
“I’m ok. It was just ice cream on my top, not the end of the world.”
“Mm, you seemed pretty mad at it…” He spoke with the same delicate voice.
“I’d had a bad day, that’s all. You didn’t have to buy me ice cream, though. I had forgotten it until you came up to me now.”
“Well, I didn’t… And I was looking forward to seeing you again, so that I could apologize. Properly, I mean, ‘cause that day… Agh, I made a fool of myself trying to apologize.” He hid his face in his hands. His confession made you laugh.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to meeting him again too.
That day you couldn’t help but feel like the unluckiest human being in the world; the only way you could meet a cute guy was in such an unfortunate scenario. It felt like a personal attack on your dignity after a day that could easily be the worst you had in a long time.
Chan felt relief after seeing you smile so widely. Whatever amount of guilt he held for ruining your pretty white blouse —because he did notice how insanely pretty it was— faded after he heard what later on would become his favorite sound in the world: your laugh.
“I told you it was fine,” you shrugged, smiling.
“Yeah, but I still felt guilty.”
With a sweet smile that Chan keeps as one of the most beautiful he has ever seen in anyone, you asked him: “What’s your name?”
He smiled back, “I’m Chan, and I’m really sorry.”
You laughed one more time. “Yeah, I noticed,” you teased, and he laughed back.
It’s curious how that disastrous first interaction would lead to what you had today.
Speaking frankly, you really didn’t understand how you managed to create a solid friendship with Chan, given that, just like him, you’ve been pining for him from afar even before day one.
Of course you had noticed him before the incident. You just weren’t aware it was mutual.
These kinds of routines are like poison for your heart—being a little dramatic. In reality, you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the best friend act.
At first you thought the feeling was just furor. The fever of meeting someone new, and the promise of new experiences with that person. You assumed that, after you got to know him better, he would become part of the panorama, the attraction would fade away, and you’d end up with a new friend. Which wasn’t entirely a lie, but the fever never went down.
The situation isn’t so different from Chan’s point of view. Even if he started to go to that ice cream shop because he thought you were cute, he wasn’t planning on falling so hard.
The fondness has odd ways to manifest in him. Chan would say more than feelings, there are symptoms. It is very similar to an ailment.
There are days in which he wouldn’t have any appetite. The thought of you is just enough to keep him full. The tummy ache he has when he is around you isn’t artless butterflies. It feels like he’s being devoured from the inside. And the headache he gets when he doesn’t have the time to talk to you throughout the day haunts him like a ghost until he finally hears from you.
Lee Chan is, sort of literally, sickly in love with you.
Be that as it may, years have passed, and still the closest you’ve ever been to confess was once last year, when a hang out late in a rainy night slowly pushed you two to almost kiss under the feeble protection of Chan’s jacket.
“Chan, I’m serious, it is insanely far, and it’s already late.”
“That’s exactly why I wanna do it. The more you talk, the more you give me the reason.”
You had gone out for dinner. He didn’t let you pay, of course, and just like the perfect gentleman he is, Chan offered to take the bus with you and walk you home. The only problem was —for you, because Chan couldn’t care any less— that your place was too far away from his.
“Please,” he pleaded, your name slipping through his lips melodically, “the only way I’d be sure you’re safe is if I see you crossing the door with my own eyes.”
You didn’t feel comfortable making him go such a long way to your apartment, and back to his. Especially when the cold wind and the distant lightning were an omen of the raging rain that fell afterwards.
His first instinct was to take off his jacket to cover you. Yet you brought him under it to run together to the bus stop. Bus stop with no shelter.
Chan’s soaked jacket was of little help against what felt like a storm. Still, he kept pulling you closer. For that single instant, it felt like the rain was a minor inconvenience, and he was the real force of nature with dreadful effects in your heart. In your head. Your mind was filled with fuzzy, incoherent thoughts.
Every time he squeezed your waist, like if he was afraid you’d fly away with the wind, it was like a death sentence for you. His hand anchoring you to his side was the only warmth you felt in the middle of the gelid weather, and it was the only thing your body was —hyper—aware of. So much so that you didn’t notice your hands moving up and groping his shirt until he looked down at you.
“Hmm?” He purred, leaning closer, but you didn’t answer.
The night was bright, despite the overcast sky. It was that, or you were so close you could see him perfectly. His dark eyes were glowing as they looked right into yours. Even while at the mercy of the stormy weather, his top priority was you, and it showed.
You felt exposed. You had the sensation he could read your mind, that he knew how done you were with the best friend role, and how ready you were to let him claim you as his. Even if it was with a simple, quick kiss. That would’ve been enough to shut your aching heart for once.
Chan was silently begging for a kiss as well. He felt as soul-naked as you.
The bus arrived after what felt like an eternity, and you didn’t argue when he sat next to you. You were resigned to him taking you home.
You were wrapped in a comfortable silence all the way to your apartment, sharing his headphones, listening to your shared playlist. He spotted you shivering, took your hands in his to try to warm them up, oblivious of the fact that the reason for your shaking hands wasn’t the cold air. It was him.
The moment passed, and you didn’t really talk about it. Chan regretted being a coward that night. Because now, three years after he first landed his eyes on you, he is still stuck in the friend role. If he hadn’t been such a fraidy-cat, these ice cream meet-ups would be a lot more… Romantic now.
“I haven’t seen you eating coffee ice cream in a while.” he takes a bite of his own dessert. “It was your favorite.”
“Well, it is, but they changed the recipe, and now it’s not the same,” you pout, and Chan has to do a monumental effort to not smile at it, “so my new go-to is this: Raspberry sorbet and dark chocolate.”
“That’s a very specific combination.”
“It has personality, unlike your late-stage-capitalism-flavored ice cream, or whatever.” You tease.
He rolls his eyes. “You wouldn’t criticize it if you knew how good it tastes”
You huff a laugh, “I doubt it, really, but…”
You are cut mid-sentence. You get distracted by the sight of Chan licking a drop of ice cream sliding on the side of his cup, and looking up at you.
Something lights inside you. A familiar heat in your chest and between your legs is what you feel. A pulse in your core that you’ve forced yourself to ignore before.
You’d say the sexual tension was always there. You aren’t blind, and neither is he.
You had caught him checking you out more than once when you hang out, but you convinced yourself it was just you imagining stuff. Because it was you who felt attracted to him, not vice versa. Or so you thought.
His piercing look feels like a provocation. This time you’re not ignoring the heat. Instead, you let it fill you up with the courage to finally do something for it.
“You know what? I may try,” you say with conviction.
He doesn’t doubt. He offers you the spoon with the green creamy dessert. You take it from his hand, getting closer. Your thighs are touching. You lean and press the spoon on his lips, smearing them with ice cream.
The growing confidence, combined with the dizziness of the proximity, doesn’t let you notice the confusion in his expression, which soon shifts to astonishment when you press your lips against his.
Chan feels the tip of your tongue rinsing the ice cream off his lower lip. A sudden warm wave paints his face red. He is simply too stunned to even move, and you take advantage of it.
“Mm, I don’t know, it kinda tastes like perfume? I don’t know how to describe it, let me try again,” and so you do the same. You smear his lips once more. This time, when you close the space between you, you stop for a fraction of a second to see if he stops you, but he doesn’t. So, you kiss him again, nibbling his lower lip.
“It tastes like…” You peck him, “earthy? And strong…” and peck him again, “but somehow soft around the edges”, and one last time in the corner of his lips, “I don’t know if it’s for me; I don’t like ambiguous flavors.”
“Maybe…” Chan begins, whispering, “maybe you should try again.”
You pout, shaking your head, “I tried enough.”
“I don’t think so. Two times is far from enough. It’s less than the minimum.”
“And the minimum is…?”
“Three, minimum three.”
“Why three?” You giggle, frowning.
“It’s a good number,” he shrugs.
You burst out laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
Chan is boiling from the inside just as much as you. His lower abs feel tense, a product of the burning desire those little kisses woke up in him.
He is so easy. He thinks. A few childlike pecks are enough to make him flustered. To make his dick twitch, as pitiful as it sounds, and drive him to a state of hunger that can only be satiated if you are the main course on his table. Or his bed.
Impatient, he puts down his cup on the nightstand. He grabs you by the hips and sets you on his lap. He is not being a coward tonight.
“I am. Are you really not giving me another one?” His voice is firm, but not demanding. Low and velvety, yet fluid. Like an intoxicating beverage.
You’re startled. You can’t answer verbally. The touch of his heavy hands dangerously low on your hips, far from being grounding, is distracting. You can’t formulate a coherent thought. The only thing you do is offer him a bite of your ice cream with a vague gesture.
He huffs, mildly irritated by the growing tension in his pants. He places your cup beside his.
“You can’t do that and just distract me with ice cream.”
His tight grip on your hips is a clear sign of his annoyance, you think. Before you can stop it, a cascade of mumbled apologies leaves your mouth. You’re sure you look and sound beyond pathetic, sat on his lap, face down, nervously murmuring nonsense, like a scolded child struggling to justify their behavior.
You crossed an implicit boundary somehow violently. Your head races with a million other scenarios in which you could have shortened the emotional distance between the two of you differently. You contemplate easier ways, softer ways. Ways that wouldn’t have left him looking at you like you erased a line he wasn’t willing to pass.
“He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want you,” states a loud voice in the front of your mind. “But if he doesn’t, why is he asking for another kiss? Why did he not stop you when he had the chance?” Replies another voice in the back, distant.
You are a mess of contradictory thoughts and tongue-tied apologies. The urge to run away from the situation you created yourself invades you, and as you attempt to do so, he sets you back on his lap with ease.
Without any other word, he cups your face and kisses you again. It takes you aback for a second. To say he’s kissing you senseless is an understatement; it is like delicacy is nothing but a suggestion worth ignoring for the sake of his satisfaction.
His kiss is like sandpaper to your rough, unorganized thoughts. The noise in your head tones down the more he presses you, flushed to him. You whimper in relief against his lips when his hand finds the way to your hair and pulls it slightly.
Oh, fuck…
You pull away. Suddenly, your cheeks paint with embarrassment again. Chan sees it in your eyes how your mind starts to form incoherent ideas, and so he wastes no time entertaining them.
He sets you right on his crotch, cupping your face, and you can feel the growing erection caged in his jeans. “Don’t waste your time guessing. This is what you do to me.”
A tender little kiss lands on your cheek, the beginning of a path of faint kisses trailing down your jaw, then your neck and collarbones.
“Tell me to stop.” More than a reminder that he would go as far as you let him, it is a command. It is Chan trying to hold on to the last bit of sanity left in his body. Except, far from listening, you roll your hips forward, getting another moan from him. His face sinks into your neck again.
Chan is usually a very well-behaved boy. He rarely raises his voice; the loudest he can be is when laughing. He has gentle hands, and an even gentler way to carry himself. However, there are no traces of said gentleness now. He attacks your neck like a predator securing its prey in place.
His teeth rasp along your neck, hips buckling up every now and then. He bites the most sensitive spot with such aggressiveness; you think he might want to literally eat you. But you don’t complain. You’re more than glad to let him do with you as he pleases.
You slowly start to become a mess of little moans and whines. The stronger he bites, the louder you get. He licks the abused skin to calm the sting, pressing his tongue flat over the blooming bruise.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
You couldn’t ever imagine Chan being this bold, and it lights a flame in your core to imagine how much bolder he can get if he goes further. You shudder in anticipation.
The wet sensation in your cunt distracts you. You know your panties are already ruined. Even with the barrier of clothes, you can tell how big he is. Your mouth waters at the single thought of freeing his cock out of his pants and swallowing him whole.
One hand sneaks under your tank top, deliberately going upwards on your back. He’s searching for your bra clasp. When he finds it, he unclasps it with a few simple motions.
“Off,” He tugs at your top. Your mind has been absent for a good few minutes now, so you do as he says without questioning.
He takes a handful of seconds to observe you once your upper half is completely exposed to him. His eyes savor you first; later his hands travel to squeeze your breasts as if they were stress relief balls.
It is amusing, actually, how gone he looks having a pair of boobs on his face. It’s not like he starts drooling at the sight of any pair of tits, he’s not a virgin. But a scenario like this has been running around his head in circles for a while now, so he’s not going to get distracted by unimportant things. He’s focused on you.
He massages, pinches, presses, and eventually puts one in his mouth. He drags long, purposeful licks on your nipple before nibbling at it. It makes you nearly scream and initiate an eager sway of your hips, his clothed dick. Back and forth, you chase that pleasant thrill starting to form on your lower stomach.
“Chan…” Leaves your lips breathily.
Although he doesn’t listen, too fixed in exploring his new toy, he pinches your neglected nipple while he sucks the one in his mouth. Your little sounds and squirms seem to encourage him more. He sucks harder, ruder.
Your hands find the way to the hair on the nape of his neck. The constant friction between the two of you is bringing you closer to the edge. Your shoulders tense, your hips falter the higher you feel.
Chan stops. He has other plans, though.
“Don’t.” He says sharply. He holds your hips in place, preventing them from moving. “Don’t you dare cum. " I'm gonna make that pussy cum on my cock. D’you understand?”
You can’t help but whine in frustration as you feel your orgasm drawing away. “Since when do you talk like that?” You ask, nearly out of breath.
“Since I have a slut on top of me grinding on my dick.” Chan slaps your ass in response, a cheeky grin adorning his stupid handsome face.
“Huh.” You laugh.
God, you love this side of him.
Two can play a game, but there have to be equal conditions. You take his shirt off, throw it away like it’s something disgusting to touch.
You salivate thick spit at the sight of his sharp build. He’s defined, chest solid. His abs are decorated with a delicious-looking happy trail. The vista inspires your broad imagination.
You picture a vast number of possibilities related to the scene hiding in his pants. You wonder about the length and girth. Would it be anything similar to what you’ve fantasized before? It certainly feels quite imposing already, even clothed. How would it feel in your hand? How would it feel in your mouth? Would it be hairy? If it is, is it just slightly or heavily?
Stop wandering, just recall his words.
“Don’t waste your time guessing…” And you won’t.
You’re unable to resist the itch on the tip of your fingers. Your index slowly draws a thin path from his pecs down to the happy trail. He shivers; you chuckle.
You catch the forgotten ice creams sitting on the nightstand from the corner of your eye. They are more than melted, but a mischievous thought takes form in the back of your head.
“You think you’re the only one with a dirty mouth?” Smiling playfully, you unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans. He shifts back on his elbows, hips up so it’s easier for you to take his pants down. Your shorts disappear from the equation too. Your panties and his boxers are the only thing preventing the skin-to-skin contact.
Excitement is evident in his expression. Oh, sweet Chan. He may feel like a naughty boy talking filthy words, but whatever he thinks you’re about to do, it’s not even remotely close to what the engine of your mind is working on right now.
You stretch over him to grab your ice cream cup. “We can’t let it go to waste, can we? It’d be such a shame.” Without warning, you let the melted ice cream drip on his abs, covering them with chocolate and raspberry sorbet. He jolts at the cool sensation; his skin tenses.
“What the—"
“Oops! Clumsy me.” You giggle, feigning innocence. “Agh, these jelly hands of mine. Let me clean it.”
You bend and lick the ice cream all the way from his lower belly up his abs, following the guideline of his happy trail.
“Shhhit.” Chan grits.
You stick your tongue out, showing him all the dessert gathered on your tongue before swallowing it. For the nth time in the night since you first kissed him, his dick jerks beneath you.
“Better now.” You hum, contemplating. “You didn’t try my flavor, did you?”
He barely manages to answer monosyllabically, disoriented, “Huh?”
“My ice cream flavor, did you try it?”
He shakes his head, lips parted.
“Mm… That doesn’t sound fair,” you pout. “Well, sharing is caring, isn’t it?”
Then again, you repeat the operation. Ice cream on your tongue, you go up until you’re just mere inches away from his face. One or two taps on his chin beckon him to open up. You spit it all on his tongue; he swallows it with pleasure. A drop of the content runs down his chin; you take it on the tip of your fingers and shove it back in his mouth.
How delightful it is having him looking up at you like you hung the stars while his tongue plays with your fingers. Those dark shiny bubbles he has for eyes meet yours, and your stomach does a weird turn as he sucks them clean. Your core pulses after an obscene pop! echoes in the room when you take them out.
The damp sensation of his spit wrapped around your fingers is provocative. You find it impossible to fight back the creeping desire bubbling in your pussy. You’re in no position to wait any longer; thus, you strip off the last piece of clothing left.
Your panties fly across the room, and Chan can’t believe his eyes the moment you start rubbing off your clit. Legs wide open. Fully displayed for him.
“Chan…” You moan.
“Holy… fuck…” He thinks out loud.
“I need you, please.” You’re all whiny already. The heat in your cunt is overwhelming. It’s insufferable. You need him to do something now.
No other word is required. All of a sudden, Chan’s boxers are nowhere to be found. You bask at the spectacle in front of you.
His dick is just like you imagined it would be; the happy trail leads to his mons pubis, adorned with soft curls of thin, trimmed hair. Rosy mushroom-like head spilling precum like crazy. It’s full-sized. Nonetheless, the throbbing veins framing its shape provide it a sort of presence that has you cussing under your breath, as your fingers press rough circles on your puffy clit.
He's mesmerised by you. “You’re a whole view, you know that?” He carefully sets you on your back, kisses your lips kindly, then starts to go down on you. “So… Fucking beautiful”
“Please, Chan. That can wait,” You whimper.
“Let me taste you first, baby. Please.” He insists.
“Lee Chan,” you pull his hair to make him look at you, “I need your cock.” The word falls from your lips lewdly. “Fuck the hell out of me. Right. Now.”
You see, it's not like you don’t want him to eat you out. You have the theory that he gets pussy drunk very easily. Actually, after he got practically glued to your neck and tits earlier, you’re almost convinced he has an oral fixation on some level. But you’ll have time to prove all your speculations later.
Chan laughs at your desperation. “Eager much?” He teases. You roll your eyes. Grabbing your hips, he motions you to turn around.
You settle on your knees, chest pressed to the mattress, ass up high. Chan positions himself behind you. He doesn’t need to become someone in life, he thinks, your slick cunt at his disposal is all he needs to die a fulfilled man. His fingers knead at the tender flesh of your cheek, while his free hand bumps his hard cock carefully.
He teases the glans up and down your swollen folds, mixing his precum and your arousal.
“You’re so wet. Look at that.” He taps the tip on your entrance a couple times. “You’re all ready for me, aren’t you baby?”
“Yes.” You sigh, “Chan, please.”
“Don’t worry, I got you.”
And without further ado, he finally stretches you out as you swallow him inch by inch. The texture of his veins stimulates your throbbing walls even more.
“Mmph.” He groans, slides out, then back in, and repeats. He sets a cautious but steady pace at first. Testing the waters, probing what makes you moan the loudest.
Sooner rather than later, the force and rhythm increase, up to the point where he has to grab you by the hair to keep you in place while he bullies his hard cock into your pussy.
“Fuck, Chan. Ngh—"
Your moans follow along with the rhythm of his relentless thrusts. The wet sounds of your squelching cunt are offensive. What is more, his heavy balls pound impetuously against your ass, generating a stimulating clapping sound that sends you dangerously close to the edge.
Your thighs tremble. You’re so close. All the tightness folded in your belly is just about to snap when you abruptly feel empty again.
“Fucking hell, Chan!. I’m gonna kill you!” You cry, looking at him over your shoulder.
He hums, out of breath. “No, you will not.” As if you weighed nothing, he turns you on your back. “I just wanna see this pretty face when you cum, ‘kay?”
He kisses your forehead before he goes back to his ministrations. Loving words fill the little space between the two of you.
“So beautiful,” he whispers on your lips, “you’re an angel. You’re my angel.”
Each word of adoration coming out of his mouth is a gentle push that shoves you closer to you high. Every time your name leaves his lips, your lower belly tenses, your nails dig deeper in his back.
Chan is very sure he is going to be sore in the morning, and as he doesn’t give a fuck, he’s determined to make you reach heaven. The sting of the scratches on his skin emboldens his thrusts. He’s eager, sloppier. He presses your hips further into the mattress as your gazes meet.
A smug smile draws on his face as he sneaks a hand between your legs to rub his thumb on your clit. You nearly scream. The pleasure envelopes you both in a dense blankness that clouds your senses.
You don’t feel anything. You feel him, and only him.
The initial frenzy slowly washes away to make room for the affection burning under your skin, demanding to flourish to the surface.
His eyes trail all over your face, there is a crystalline spark in them despite the dim lighting. They are as clear as the first time you talked to him in the ice cream shop. So transparent you swear you can see your reflection in them for a tiny second.
He now moves more deliberately, controlled. The desperation that once blurred his mind disappeared. He knows you’re right there. You’re breathing heavier, letting out broken moans due to the lack of air. He’s dying to see you and feel you cum all over him.
“Cum for me, princess. C’mon. Let me see you, all glorious.”
There’s a pressure on your ribs constraining your breath. A tension that finally breaks when he calls your name one last time. The orgasm that rips through you is overwhelming, loud, and devastating. It triggers his as well. A couple more thrusts and Chan spills his warm seed inside your silky walls.
His fucked expression and a cracked “F-fuck, baby,” accompanied by ragged whimpers, are the last thing you see and hear before he falls over you like a soulless body.
You’re both spent as hell. He is exhausted to the bone, but never felt as full in his life.
“Chan, you’re crushing me…” You chuckle after a few seconds of silence and heavy breaths.
“Oh, sorry.” He mirrors your little laugh. “Are you ok?”
“More than ok. I’ve never felt better.”
He smiles brightly, caresses your back gently, and showers your face with honey-like kisses, carefully pulling out. You whine at the loss. Your mixed juices run down your thighs. The sticky feeling between your legs is not uncomfortable now, but you’ll need a very good and long shower soon. Right now, however, you’re feeling too light and frisky to leave the bed.
“So…” You bite your lip. “You gotta admit I have better taste in ice cream than you,” you tease.
He laughs, amused by your ability to tantalize him even when he literally just fucked the sweet heaven out of you. “Yeah, sure.” He replies halfheartedly, “I don’t know if it’s for me, though. I might have to try again.” Mocking your voice tone, he tickles your ribs.
“Don’t!” You jolt and giggle. “You’re an idiot.”
He echoes your little laughs, hugs your waist. “For you, yes.”
His little pecks take over your face once, your smile growing wider after every single one of them, his palm firm on your ass. “Such a smiley princess. So pretty.” He whispers over your lips.
“Oh, so I’m a princess now. I thought I was a slut who was gonna cum on your cock.” You mock him back.
He burst out laughing. “Yah, I don’t know where that came from, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, I… kinda liked it.” You admit, voice whispery.
“Mm... Is that so, huh…?” The grin on his lips warns you of the teasing comment forming in his mind. You kiss him before he can even take a breath and say it.
“Shut the fuck up.” You mumble against his smiley lips.
Lee Chan is not a self-centered guy. He thinks being full of oneself is a waste of time. He strongly believes that throwing away time and energy feeding his ego is of no use when he can put that effort into taking care of his loved ones.
In every possible scenario, Chan engages in fulfilling everyone else’s needs before his own. It causes a specific kind of peace that he only experiences when his actions bring comfort to the people around him: fixing any broken artifact at his mom’s house, sharing food with coworkers at lunch, making a friend company in a difficult moment, or doing little favors. All those are simple things that make him feel like his friends and family get the best of his presence in their lives.
Therefore, it is needless to say that he takes whatever opportunity presents itself to take care of you. And this time is no exception.
You’re waiting for him, wrapped in his bedsheets while he runs you a bath. Mumbles and rustles come out of the bathroom before his still naked figure appears, stepping into the room again.
“The bath’s almost ready,” he sits at your feet on the bed, “how do you feel?”
You chuckle, “You have asked me that like a million times already,” he pouts, taking your hand to press you flush against him, “I’m ok, I feel good, I promise.”
“Mm…” He kisses your shoulder as he draws little circles and hearts on the bare skin of your back, “I just wanna make sure you’re not sore, or I didn’t go too carried away.”
“I could never feel bad when I’m with you.” You give him one last kiss before entering the bathroom.
And of course, he kept asking if you were alright all night. But there really was no room for discomfort among his delicate kisses, attentive hands, and loving words.
Chan remembered that Wednesday very well. He felt like it was fated that he ran into you, and he had never felt more grateful for being a clumsy loverboy.
Please tell me what do you think! Feedback is also highly appreciated. It took me a while to finish this fic. I started writing it on June 18th and I could finally finish it on August 6th. A few things got in the way, stress, school, migranes and whatnot, but I finished it and I'm very happy with the final result, even if it's not all perfect.
I write fics to practice my writing skills in English and it was my first time writing a story this long in a foreign language. I think that was one of the million things that kept from finishing it earlier. I was #scared, but here we are.
🩶 chan x f!reader
🩶 0.4k
🩶 fluffy chan and his fluffy hair
🩶 requested by @anoirangel <33 for my 100 followers event!
🩶 it's really just fluff and morning cuddles, no warnings. i mean there's a mention of sweaty shirtless chan. but it's really just fluff <3
Chan's hair is fluffy. You like it a lot. Like - a lot.
🩶
“Baby.”
“No.”
“Baby –”
“No!”
“Baby, I need to get up,” Chan sighs, but you shake your head, nuzzling deeper into his chest.
“No. You’re not allowed.”
You tug your hands through his hair again from your place sprawled on top of him, and he just groans, arms slipping around your waist.
“Fine. But only a bit longer, okay? I need to get up soon.”
“Hm.” You lift your head up just enough to press a kiss to Chan’s collarbone, just above the line of his shirt, and then settle back down to play with his hair. His long, soft, fluffy hair.
Chan laughs, his whole chest shaking, and drops a little kiss into your hair. “You’re adorable, you know that?”
You huff and tug at his hair until he winces. “I know. But you’re cuter. Let me play.”
“Alright, alright, geez,” he says. His fingers dip just under the hem of your shirt, brushing against the base of your spine and sending warmth curling beneath your skin. “You can play. Fine.”
You flash him a victorious smile, then scoot yourself further up on his chest, so your nose rests just beneath his chin. “Yippie.”
He sighs again, but it’s fond. You run your fingers through his hair, toying with a few strands, and his palm rests against the small of your back with just enough pressure.
“I love your long hair,” you murmur into the side of his neck. You press a gentle kiss to his skin, then continue, twirling a dark lock around one finger. “It’s just so… soft. And it looks so good on you. Makes you look hot. And cute. Mhm. Hot and cute,” you decide with another little kiss. Chan hums and drums his fingers against your back.
“Hot and cute? At the same time?”
You consider, pulling back to squint up at him. “No. Not at the same time. It depends.”
“Mm. Then which am I now?”
He raises his eyebrows, peering down at you with his morning eyes and his soft skin, and something inside you melts.
“Cute. Definitely cute.”
An adorably amused smile splits his face, and his fingers curl against your spine, the barest tips of his fingernails brushing your skin. “Good to know. And what about… when I’m at the gym?”
“Hmm, all sweaty?” you ask with a giggle. He nods, very seriously, and you rub your thumb just behind his ear. “Yeah, you’re hot then. Very hot.”
“Good to know,” he repeats, settling back into the pillows. He’s fighting a grin, maybe a smirk; you can tell.
You kiss his collarbone.
“Wanna go to the gym with me?” he asks almost immediately, and you snort.
“Is this just a ploy to get me out of bed?”
“Think of it as a ploy for you to get my shirt off.”
— synopsis: life after undergrad is difficult, and life back home is harder than ever when you're finding trouble filling your time. with the weight of great expectations on your shoulders, miscommunication leads you to places you wouldn't go even if it were essential for survival.
– genre: est. relationship ; angst, fluff, smut.
— pairing: boyfriend!lee chan x prospective grad student!fem!reader
– word count: 14.6k
— rating: 18+. minors do not interact.
– warnings: swearing, they argue a lot, mentions of food/alcohol, smoking (weed), mingyu and soonyoung make their reappearance, mentions of bribery, mentions of the weird time between the end of college and figuring your life out, concerns of infidelity (baseless). smut warnings: unprotected sex. duh. lowkey exhibitionist as fuck, alludement to edging, car sex, oral/fingering (f.rec), dirty talk (so. much.), missionary, masturbation (f), creampie.
— what to listen to: i'm so into you - swv ; all night long - mary jane girls ; heaven - taemin.
– author’s note: [special thanks to @/saradika here on tumblr for these lovely snowflake dividers!] welcome back to haologram! this is a special segment i’ve created to give a quick thank you to all of my friends this holiday season, and this one is for my angel baby, @sn4psh00t! josie, i'm so grateful to have you in my life and i can certainly attest that the majority of caratblr writers are so excited every time we see you pop up. you are an incredibly rare find on these wormholes of the web, and i'm so honored to have you around and consider a friend. i hope we get closer in the new year, and we can see each other thrive in the things we love. i'm always rooting for you, my josie posie! this being said, this is 10000% a spinoff of 'between you and me', and i spent the day writing this and rereading my own fic between my fingers hehe but i hope you love it as much as i love you!! happy haolidays, josie! i love you!
IT'S BEEN A YEAR SINCE YOU AND CHAN DECIDED TO TAKE YOUR RELATIONSHIP SERIOUSLY.
Well, almost a year.
You'd returned to campus hand-in-hand, and said nothing. People knew without a word, and they understood that Chan was no longer available to fool around. To canoodle, to warm someone's bed for a couple hours before heading back out to scour for another.
You decided not to let insecurity rear its ugly head. Chan chose you, and you chose him.
Doesn't mean that the stories about how good he was in bed stopped circulating.
The matching promise rings on your fingers certainly ensured they died down significantly, and Chan being nowhere to be found on April Fool's weekend (when his frat usually threw a major rager) — only solidified to all the people who didn't know your history with him that he was definitely not getting back on the market any time soon.
You spent said April Fool's weekend holed up in your childhood home, with Chan nestled into your side and pouting at your every attempt to get out of bed. You'd initially gone back home to celebrate Rosie's birthday — only to arrive home and see both your parents and your little sister sneezing their heads off. Your mother claimed allergies, your father was sure it was death knocking at his door — but your little sister sprawled on the living room carpet with crumpled tissues in her hand and asked for her birthday scoop of chocolate almond ice cream, only to be told by her pediatrician hours later that she had the flu and had to rest up.
Safe to say, she threw an absolute fit and you made her stay at home while you dragged Chan out to the ice cream parlor to pick the ice cream up anyway.
Graduation came and went — the two of you (surprising due to the circumstances) graduated summa cum laude, and your families threw a conjoined party. You went back to campus afterwards to pack up your apartment, snickering to yourself at the barren walls of Chan's bedroom and the crowded walls of yours. He'd promptly slithered his way into your space when you both got back in January, his trinkets and posters migrating little by little until your bedroom was an amalgamation of you and him.
Made you laugh a bit when his Iron Man figurines stood proud next to your Catwoman — the only time Marvel and DC can coexist silently.
Upon your return to town, you and Chan had been pulled in all different directions. Job interviews across the city, only for Chan to end up working at your father's store and for you to take on a temporary managerial position at your mother's restaurant. You looked for apartments together, finding jackshit in the surrounding area and Mrs. Lee kept hinting at the fact that their house was open to house you both — seeing as they were only there during the holiday season, and their apartment in the city was their norm. Chan stayed there, but you found solace in your bedroom…
So that meant you and Chan were living separately for the time being, sleeping together in his room (or yours) only on the weekends.
You met every morning at your dining table, barely changed out of your pajamas and pressing a tired kiss to the other's lips before slumping in your chairs and sharing a cup of coffee before your mother forced breakfast under your noses and made you eat to get your day started. You'd wrinkle your nose at the scent of scrambled eggs, and Chan would steal your extra piece of toast — but you ate silently, quickly, and thanked your lucky stars that your mother's restaurant was only down the road from your father's store.
You carpooled with Chan to save money, your car sat pretty in the driveway as he drove you both around town, to and from work…on dates.
Dates that were few and far between, usually on a Friday and usually ending with you on his lap in his bedroom, his hands up your shirt and yours tugging at his hair. Sometimes the two of you were too tired to do anything, barely making it past the threshold of your bedroom before falling asleep on the mattress next to each other.
Your parents and his agreed that you were just feeling the effects of life after college. You weren't nearly as busy as you used to be, and the lack of stress in your lives seemingly took a toll on you — your mother tried to make everything much more stimulating, as if the clinging of birthday bell every so often and the beeping of POS systems didn't already haunt you in your sleep. Chan was only faring slightly better — his days consumed with the embarrassment of mothers flirting with him and your father's stern eyes. Despite liking him, your father made it no secret that Chan was only there as a favor to you, and he was the only employee that got weekends fully off.
Your lives felt slightly mundane for the summer months, but you silently bowed your head and took everything with appreciation. Mrs. Lee got you and Chan both down to the dance center every few weeks, giving you a chance to get all your frustration out by teaching a class or two. Chan was much better at it than you were, taking the time and energy to perfectly learn a complex choreography and actually teach it — whereas you would spend your four hours in the city showing off all your acrobatic skills you'd learned from years of cheerleading to little kids who ooh'd and ahh'd.
Time went on, decisions were made, money was saved — and it's December again.
Your parents are still excited to have you home, and you actually get a chance to help with the decorating this year — eagerly dusting off twinkle lights and Christmas figurines, and Rosie gets to see you decorate the tree all by yourself. It'd been your favorite thing to do before you left for college, and Rosie had only see your parents do it since then — and she wasn't all that excited to see you anymore, moreso content with your constant prescence and cheering eagerly when you'd take your mother's car and pick her up from school at the end of your shift.
You and Chan are once more squished together in your bedroom when his cousins make the drive into town — this time, actually having time to spend with the two of you and staying until the end of January.
There's a bit of bickering between you and Chan.
He's taking up too much of the bed. He's taking too long in the shower. He's hogging the blanket, he's stealing your socks, he's in your way when you're trying to brush your teeth and wash your face.
He argues that you're practically on top of him in the mornings, that you could easily join him in the shower. He argues that you complain about being hot at night while he runs cold, that your socks were originally his, that you are in his way when he is trying to shave and blow-dry his hair.
Neither of you apologize, only grumbling before one of you pulls the other into a kiss. It's usually him, and he's usually got you pinned against the door telling you to apologize. You never do, only letting him kiss you until your lips are swollen and your mother bangs on your bedroom door asking if everything is okay.
And neither of you know that your parents share worried looks when you're not around, hearing the arguing through your bedroom door. Hearing it through the bathroom door, hearing it up until Chan kisses you stupid with his hands wandering more than they should for a winter morning.
With all the bickering comes less time for intimacy. Not just sex, of course not (even if you haven't had the time to properly mess around since December even started) — but you don't get to have conversations because you're both still angry. You don't talk over breakfast, picking at your food before one of you inevitably gets up and eats alone in the kitchen. You don't get a chance to stand in the same room to get dressed, because you'll be damned if Chan weasles his way out of apologizing by kneeling in front of you and pulling your shorts down. You don't touch, you don't hold hands, nothing — until you're both out the door for the day and he opens the car door for you and helps you in.
The car ride is silent. No music, no talking — just tight jaws until he pulls into the parking lot of your mother's restaurant and leans over the center console. He doesn't apologize, just presses a kiss to your cheek before you (despite the annoyance in your belly) turn your head and kiss him properly. You tell him to have a good day between kisses, he reminds you to eat lunch, his hand squeezing your hip before telling you to run inside. It takes you a moment to stop kissing him, so much so that he has to (rather reluctantly) pull away and give you a pointed look.
You think about him for the rest of the day then. You text him asking if he's eaten lunch. He'll text back a picture of him picking Rosie up from school when you couldn't. He'll ask you if you want something from the gas station, and you'll see Rosie barreling into the restaurant with a bag of M&Ms and he follows behind with her backpack in hand. He greets your mother, he gives you a kiss and catches you both up on what her teachers said — that she has homework, that she was on the green smiley face all week and got a treat to take home, to make sure she stays warm because she's in the winter play and can't be replaced…the like.
Something about it makes your chest warm.
Another thing to note is that you're both waiting on acceptance (or rejection) letters from a couple grad schools in your area, your undergrad campus included — and you're anxious, even if you're only really hoping to get into your undergrad university. You're visibly nervous as you pace back and forth in the office of your mother's restaurant — she had once more roped you into taste-testing her holiday menu. Chan is equally as on-edge, if not more, and you want to attribute all the bickering to said unease about the near future.
But it feels like an excuse.
It feels like an excuse when you argue with him, when he scoffs at you, when he kisses you out of frustration instead of the same sweet sentiment you know you both hold for each other.
When he hasn't called you baby in a while.
And you know, you know you said that the insecurities that make your chest tight weren't going to make a comeback but you can't help but let them fester a bit when you see how easily Chan fits into your life. It scares you, to know that he's been by your side your entire life and yet, he's still choosing you. Despite the flaws and faults, the fighting, fucking and everything in between. You're worried about it, day in and day out — and you want to convince yourself that the 'gut feeling' you have about your relationship is just a jumbled mess of jitters.
You assume that not sharing a bed with him every night is also adding to that. Not getting to hold him close, not being able to breathe him in right after his shower when he smells like eucalyptus and your lavender body wash that you've bitched him out about using but he just smiles in your face. Not getting to kiss him goodnight, even when he ends up with his hand down your pajama shorts and your shirt is somewhere across the room…it's all piling up.
It's all bothering you.
"Honey, you're going to pace a hole in my floor." Your mother says gently, her fingers expertly clicking around a calculator as she holds up some tax form. You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you force yourself to sit in the rolling chair next to her, your hands fiddling with the buttons of your cardigan as you check the clock. Chan would be off in ten minutes, and then he could race home and check the mail. You weren't off for another hour and a half, and your stomach was starting to hurt.
"You'll get in, don't worry." She gives you a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your knee as you slump against the desk. You know you probably seem childish, you probably seem like you're stressing yourself out about nothing — but your mother understands this feeling all too well. She was also in your shoes once, working in the back of a restaurant after college and waiting on those damn letters.
The difference is, she had no one supporting her the way she can support you. She was freshly married, working a stressful job and struggling to make ends meet. Your father was working two jobs, long hours spent away from the apartment that would become your very first home — because you came along during the part of their lives that was barely starting to settle. Your parents took many risks opening their businesses but taking care of you had to have been their biggest struggle.
And they did it anyway. With all the love they had, all the money they could scrape up, all of it — and eventually, both businesses took off and they never looked back. Sure, it was confusing when a music store and a restaurant within two blocks of each other were named after the same person — but local newspapers and even your town's radio station had interviewed your parents enough over the years that everyone knew the backstory. Newcomers could read about it from newspaper clippings on your mother's restaurant entrance or hear about it from your father's excited conversation — eventually, hearing it from you and Chan whenever people asked who 'Y/N' was.
However, you said 'me.'
Chan said, 'my boss' daughter,' 'my best friend', 'my girlfriend.'
'Mine,' if it was someone around your age.
It made you a bit giddy, biting back your smile like a schoolgirl with a crush.
"What if I don't?" You murmured, letting a frustrated groan fall from your lips as you leaned forward in your chair, covering your face with your hands. She snickers, her hand smoothing over your hair before patting your back, "go home."
"I can't, Chan—"
"Walk to your father's shop and go home, Y/N. You can't work in these conditions, maybe the cold air will do you some good."
You do as she says, and she kisses your forehead as you pout, tucking your scarf into your jacket. She pulls her knitted beanie over your head before giving you a careful push out of her office and letting you know she'd clock you out. You opened your mouth to ask about Rosie, only for her to hold a finger to her lips and shoo you away.
The air was prickling against your skin as you made your way outside. There wasn't any snow so far, but the sky was gloomy and so was your mood. You shoved your hands in your pockets, your purse hitched high on your shoulder as you reached the crosswalk. You could see your father's shop sign from where you stood — bold blue lights forming your name and standing out against the white background. If you peek over your shoulder, you'll see your mother's sign, too — recently rebranded to a flickering neon sign, on theme with the retro vibe of the restaurant.
You ignore the pit of inadequency sinking in your stomach as you cross the street, nibbling on your lips and missing the feeling of Chan's warmth.
Despite yourself, you miss him. Even if he makes you angry in the morning and steals your toast, even if he uses up all your body wash when he stays over, even when he merely hogs the blanket and leaves you a shivering mess at two in the morning — you miss him.
Your father sees you coming from halfway down the block, his eyes lighting up through the store windows as you smile inwardly. He stops what he's doing to make his way to the door, and you see Chan holding boxes up to his eyes as he fumbles around to get to the front counter. You speedwalk the rest of the block, your father smiling brightly as you greet him with a hug and a kiss to his cheek.
"It's freezing out there, bud. What're you doing? Did your mother send you down?" He asks, closing the door behind you as you rush over to take one of the boxes off Chan's stack, wiggling your brows at him as he scrunches his nose at you. You stick your tongue out at him, and he just shakes his head, suppressing his smile as he keeps moving towards the counter.
"She sent me home early because I was, in her words, 'going to pace a hole in her floor.'" You roll your eyes, but the waver in the back of your voice is far too evident for your father's keen hearing. He raises a brow, "if this is about grad school—"
"It is, you know it is." You sigh, setting the box down on the counter. You take another and do the same, your boyfriend peering at you through his lashes before tilting his head, "were you checking the Informed Delivery again? I told you to stop doing that."
"I can't! I need to know when the mail is getting here," you slump against the boxes, and your father shares a look with Chan before shaking his head.
"Honey, you're going to get in."
"You don't know that!"
"Y/N, it's grad school. I've been there, done that, and I did it with a kid and a wife and two jobs." He says pointedly, making you huff as Chan bites back his smile. You reach over and pinch him gently, earning a scowl as he bats your hand away. Your father pats your shoulder, "it's going to be okay. You're going to get in and you're going to do great and you'll be so proud of yourself."
"What about making you proud?" You mutter, and he just pulls your jacket hood over your head with a soft tap on the box beneath you, "you make me proud just by existing. Go home, Y/N. I'll see you both later."
Chan's eyes widen, and he darts to the back to get his coat as your father begins unpacking one of the boxes. You watch him silently, seeing him pull out a new shipment of vinyls, "anything good?"
"Everything's good," he retorts, holding up an ABBA vinyl that was missing from his collection. "Take this with you, put it on my desk at home."
You grab it, tucking it under your arm as you watch Chan bustle out of the back room with his scarf in his hand. He doesn't bother pulling it over his neck, or zipping up his jacket — and your father gives him a stern look. He pouts, limply zipping up his jacket to the middle of his chest, only for you to roll your eyes and reach over, pulling up to his chin.
"You'll get sick and then we're screwed when your parents get down here." You scold him, and you point at his scarf, "put it on."
"You're my girlfriend, not my mother."
"If you want me to keep being your girlfriend—"
"Alright, alright. No need for threats today," he grumbles, wrapping his scarf around his neck loosely before fishing his keys out, "ready? Who is picking Rosie up?"
"No one. She has rehearsal for her play tonight," your father states, peeking over David Bowie and KISS vinyls in his hand. "You guys get home safe, and stay out of the garage."
"Unwrapped gifts?"
He uses the vinyl to point at you, "I mean it, missy. No peeking."
"No peeking, got it." You nod, waving goodbye as Chan bows his head politely. He slips his hand in yours, pulling you towards the door and back into the biting winter wind. "Bet you're glad you put that scarf on, huh?"
"Shut up," he rolls his eyes, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your temple, "did you eat lunch?"
"You just told me to shut up and now you're asking about lunch?" You jest, but wrap your arm around his waist as he guides you both through the vast parking lot. He shrugs, pressing another kiss against your cheekbone, "you're annoying."
"You're worse."
"You still love me, though."
"Blah, blah, blah." You mock him with your gloved hand as he smiles against your skin, "I still haven't forgiven you for making our anniversary on Christmas Eve, Lee Chan."
He hums, ducking his head slightly to brush his lips to yours. You roll your eyes at him, giving into his lips as he pulls you into his chest, your lower back hitting the trunk of his car. His hand slides to your face, cupping your jaw as he speaks between kisses, "I'm just the gift that keeps on giving."
"You're so fucking annoying," you snort, and he just smiles into your lips as he cages you between him and the car. "Babe, I'm cold."
"I know a way to warm you up."
"You're corny as fuck, get out of my face."
He only laughs, planting a chase kiss to the corner of your mouth before opening your door. You slip inside, quickly grabbing the AUX as he closes your door and rounds the car, sliding into the driver's side. He starts the car with a shiver, rubbing his hands together for warmth as the air vents blast warm air.
"Do we have plans tonight aside from combing through the mail?" He chides, and you huff, pulling your mother's beanie off and tugging at your scarf.
"Mingyu and Soonyoung texted me earlier saying they picked up from Hansol, if we want to join them at our spot." You unzip your jacket as he pulls out of the lot, peeling to the left to head home as he nods. "We're supposed to be getting snow, though, and they want to get up there pretty late so we're not busted like high schoolers."
"We're always supposed to be getting snow," he shakes his head, veering into the left lane as you nibble on your lip. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, holding his hand out for you to take as you rest your head on the window. "Y/N, you can't stress yourself out like this."
"How are you fine? I feel like I'm going to throw up and die," you mutter, tracing circles into his palm before he sighs, simply sliding his fingers into yours and swiping his thumb back and forth on your hand. The car is silent as he drives home, and you hate the way your throat burns as you take a glimpse over your shoulder to look at him.
His eyes are tired, his back sore…mind full of stress and ideas and problems.
Chewing on his cheek as he flicks on the turn signal, your house coming into view as you sit up. Your eyes immediately dart to the mailbox, which is stuffed full (and left open) with overflowing mail. Chan barely has a chance to pull into your driveway before you're opening the door and sliding in front of the mailbox — pulling letter after letter out.
None of them are addressed to you except one, from a university across town that had the highest acceptance rate in the county. Close to home, carried your degree and Chan had applied, too.
You shove the rest of the mail into Chan's chest as he sidles up next to you, ripping the envelope open — and your heart sinks in your chest. The Dear before your name does nothing to soften the blow, and you try not to crumple the piece of paper in your hand as Chan's fingers gently pull it from your grasp. He clicks his tongue, folding the page back up and tucking it into his pocket. He slots the rest of the mail back into the mailbox, looping his arm with yours and pulling you toward the house.
You fall into lockstep silently, the rejection making your eyes burn with tears.
It was so stupid. A university with a seventy-six-percent acceptance rate saying no to you — a summa cum laude graduate with a hefty résumé and strong ties to the community. You knew half the professors there, they were friendly with your parents and Chan's. You knew other students there, Hansol and Seungkwan being two of them — Hansol went at night after his apprenticeship at the tattoo parlor and his sporadic shifts at your mother's restaurant, and Seungkwan went in the morning, leaving the spot open at your father's shop for Chan to fill.
"It's gonna be okay." Chan murmurs as he unlocks the front door, kissing your temple as you make your way inside. You roll your eyes, blinking back the tears as you kick off your boots. He takes your coat off, hanging it in the front closet as you cross your arms on your chest and make your way to your bedroom. He shuffles around in the front of the house for a moment as you slide your jeans off, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants from your drawer and pulling them on. You're pulling your shirt over your head as he appears at the door, your fingers plucking one of his out as he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"Y/N, come on."
"It's fine. It's not a big deal."
"You can be upset about it, you know."
His fingers unclasp your bra, pulling the straps down your arms and tossing it across the room before he squeezes your sides. You shake your head, tonguing your cheek as you pull the shirt over your head. He rests his chin on your shoulder, "how can I help?"
"I don't need help."
"Y/N."
"I don't, it's fine." You twist out of his hold, pulling your duvet out from its tucked position and moving your throw pillows onto the desk chair in the corner. He changes his clothes silently, his fingers fiddling with the remote and pulling up a random rerun of 2 Broke Girls on your television before sliding into bed with you. You're facing the wall, your knees curled to your chest when you feel his arm pull you into him. Your back hits his chest as you let a singular tear spill down your cheek, and he sighs against your neck as you bite back a sob.
"I know you're crying." He whispers, "it's going to be okay. It's just one. You have six others, don't worry."
Something in you wants to say that he doesn't get it, but he does. He does get it, and that's what bothers you — you know he didn't get in, either. His letter arrived a week before yours did, but he took it differently. He'd stared at the letter for a few seconds before shrugging and tossing it into the recycling bin in his kitchen.
He'd taken it in stride.
"It's frustrating," you mutter back, your voice thick as you wipe at your eyes haphazardly. He laughs softly, his hand slipping under your shirt and caressing your skin, "yeah, I know. But we'll never appreciate the easy things in life if other things didn't fuck us over."
"I know."
"It'll be okay."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, and you sigh, letting your shoulders sag as you turn in his hold to bury your face in his neck. He wraps his arms around you, peppering kisses along your hairline, "I love you, and I'll always be here."
You nod silently, tears continuing to spill down your cheeks and soak into his shirt. You're not sure when you fall asleep, but you're sure the warmth of Chan's embrace and the soft cadence of his heart were nothing but a lullaby.
Your father had been wrong about Rosie — the rehearsal had been the day before, and the play was that night. The Lees also arrived back in town that night, creating even more of a hectic night as they tried to settle in while still getting ready on time to attend Rosie's play.
You and Chan were barely awake when your father pulled you out of bed, turning on all the lights and thrusting two bouquets of flowers into your hands when he rushedly told you to get dressed and get down to the elemtentary school. Chan haphazardly pulled on a pair of slacks that you'd ironed days in advance for this day, and you shimmied into the dress you'd promised Rosie you'd wear for the night of the play — a deep red with glitter all over it, swiping on a quick layer of lipstick and basically falling out the front door.
You were both half-asleep and sharing a cup of hot chocolate in the back of the school's auditorium, watching your little sister prance around the stage as Rudolph, her nose painted red and her microphone taped to her forehead. You leaned your head on his shoulder then, his hand snaking around your waist as one of the mothers leaned over and asked which kid was yours.
"Oh, she's my sister. She's Rudolph."
The mother, her nametag reading Mrs. Kim, gave you a tight smile. You raised a brow, "which one's yours?"
"Dasher. He'd wanted to be Rudolph but I guess your sister took the part." Her voice was rather grating, and you nodded slowly as your hand on Chan's arm tightened. Chan's brows furrowed, "Rosie earned that spot."
"Sure, of course." She nods, crossing her arms as your sister gave a monologue, "it had nothing to do with your mother being the caterer for the dinner after."
"That's enough, thank you." You snap, turning away from her as your mother leaned over your father to ask if you were alright. You gave her a thumbs up, and Chan's grip on the flowers was deathly as he tongued his cheek. You sat stiffly in your seats until the play ended, cheering loudly as the cast took their bow and the curtain dropped. Mrs. Kim was out of her seat before you or Chan could speak, but the sour taste lingered in your mouths as you both moved with your parents to find Rosie.
"Y/N! Did you see me!? Was I cool!?" Rosie screams your name from the side of the stage, and you smile as you make your way over to her. She wraps her arms around your neck as you nestle her to your hip, kissing her cheek, "you were so cool, babycakes. Come on, Channie's gonna take our picture, okay?"
The night went on smoothly, but you and Chan continued to share glances as the majority of the cast and their parents moved to your mother's restaurant. Mrs. Kim ate with an annoyed look settled in her brows, and you felt Chan hold you back from saying anything one too many times as your mother gave a toast.
She even congratulated Mrs. Kim's son on being casted as Santa's very first reindeer, the boy smiling as your mother mentioned the importance of his character.
"Glad to see someone knows the story," Chan mumbled in your ear, and you bit back your laughter as his phone buzzed against your thigh. You glance down at it, and he covers it quickly, shoving it into his pocket before kissing your cheek, "it's Mingyu. I'll be right back."
You hadn't seen Mingyu's name on the screen.
You'd seen an unsaved number.
You ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you nod quietly, his hand squeezing your hip as he slinks away. He makes his way outside, and you can still see him through the window — a grin on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks whoever messaged him. He's flushed, as he scrolls through something, zooming in and tilting his head the way he does when he's intrigued by something. He swipes out of it, his thumbs clicking around the screen and sending off a message.
You don't see anything else because Rosie tugs at your sleeve, asking you if you'll get her a slice of the black forest cake your mother had made. You agree, swallowing the nausea in your throat as you scurry to the back.
"You're looking green, honey." Your mother's voice cuts through the air as you shakily cut the cake for Rosie, giving her a thick slice on a paper plate and making sure she takes it with both hands. She thanks you as she skips back out of the kitchen, and you glance at your mother. Her eyes are expectant, and you nibble on your lip.
"I didn't get into the university across town," you sigh, and her eyes soften. It's not a lie, obviously — but you're not going to bring up your relationship and it's potential problems up to your mother. She gives your shoulder a soft squeeze, "it's okay, honey. You've still got, what, six letters? I'm sure you'll get in somewhere."
"Yeah! Me too," you nod quickly, "I'm just bummed. I hope I at least get back into my undergrad, it would be embarrassing if I didn't."
"You will, honey." She snorts, pinching your cheek, "Now, come on. I need to rub Mrs. Kim's face in the fact that she couldn't buy Rosie's spot in the play. Can you believe she tried to bribe the teacher into letting her son be Rudolph? Despicable."
You gaped as you followed behind her, Chan still standing outside. He was still smiling, but he was speaking on the phone. He was leaning against the building, fingers toying with his lip the way he does when he's excited. His brows move as he speaks, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he nods.
"Actually, Mom, I think I'm gonna cut out early." You clear your throat, and her eyes widen as she looks at you — but something on your face must give you away because her brows furrow.
"Honey, are you okay?" Her voice is hushed as she holds a hand to your cheek, feeling around as your father makes eye contact with you across the room. He excuses himself from his conversation just as Chan makes his way back inside, forcing himself to neutralize his expression before stepping back into the main room.
"Are you alright, Y/N? You look…stressed." Your father's voice is low as he, too, presses his hands to your face, and you bat them both away as you nod.
"Yes, I'm fine! I'm not sick, I'm not pregnant, so don't worry." You assure them, but your voice is thick the way it is before you start crying. Worry flashes across their faces, and you press a kiss to each of their cheeks before you feel Rosie tug at your dress, "are you leaving, Y/N?"
"I don't feel well, babycakes." You pout as you crouch to be eye-level with her, and she frowns as you carefully fix her antlers. "You did so well, though! You're super duper cool, the best Rudolph I ever did see."
She perks up slightly, and you wipe her face of cake crumbs before pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I'll see you at home, yeah? I gotta wrap your presents, too."
You wiggle your brows at her as she hugs you tight, bidding you goodbye excitedly. You wave at your parents, giving Chan a firm look that catches him by surprise. You push the door open, pulling your jacket over your shoulders and storming out of the building. He follows behind you, grabbing your wrist as you round the corner to the back of the parking lot.
"Woah, hey. What's got you in such a rush?"
"I want to go home. I have things to do." You reach into your pocket for the keys, only to remember that Chan drove you both. "Give me the keys, I'll drive."
"Not like that, you won't." He scoffs, and you twist your wrist out of his hand with a huff, "Y/N, what's gotten into you?"
"Nothing, I just want to go home. I need to wrap gifts and I need a damn drink." You run your hand over your face, blowing a breath out your lips as you look at him, "what did Mingyu want?"
He stiffens, but recovers quickly as he shrugs, "said he's got prerolls and we should join him and Hosh tomorrow after work. They're going into the city for last minute gift shopping, but they should be back before the snow is supposed to hit tomorrow."
You tongue your cheek, eyeing him before you take a step closer. He raises a brow at you, "what?"
"You giggle while talking on the phone with your cousin?" You ask, crossing your arms on your chest as Chan rolls his eyes. "Do you?"
"You don't laugh with your cousins?"
"I don't have cousins, you know that."
"Y/N, what are you trying to get at?" He says flatly, "are you just looking for reasons to fight? Because I'm getting really sick of it lately."
You must look some kind of way because he sighs, running a hand over his face, "I didn't mean it like that—"
"Give me the keys." Your voice is plain, level. You hold your hand out, and he shakes his head, "I'm not letting you drive like this."
You shove your hands into your pockets out of frustration, feeling your mother's dolphin keychain rub your palm. Your eyes widen, and you pull the keys out and click around, your mother's car across the lot. You glance at Chan over your shoulder, before clicking your tongue.
"Might want to ask Soonyoung if he'll fork your bed over tonight." You turn your nose up, your heels clicking against the pavement as Chan moves to block your path. "Move."
"Y/N, I really don't want to do this tonight, okay? I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make things more difficult—"
"You're not doing anything, Chan. I just want to go home. So move."
"You're calling me Chan and you haven't called me that since we got back to campus last year so don't act like you're not upset with me."
"Chan, I'm going home." You state, a finality to your voice that he doesn't like as he shakes his head, "we're going home together."
"You weren't talking to Mingyu on the phone."
"So what if I wasn't?"
"Then who was it?" Your voice comes out softer than you intend it to, and you're annoyed at the tears pricking the back of your eyes when you hear your mother yelling your name. You push Chan away slightly, turning around to see your mother looking around for you. You wave your hand, walking away from Chan quickly as she holds up a stack of envelopes.
"Honey, I'm sorry," she's out of breath as she reaches you, holding them out. "The mailman dropped these off here right after you left and I didn't get a chance to get them to you. Good luck!"
She scurries back inside, and your name is stamped across all the envelopes with several university seals. You chew on your lip, shoving the envelopes in your pockets and taking a deep breath.
"Please, let me take you home." Chan's voice is in your ear, and you shake your head, feeling your earrings swing.
"I'll see you later, Chan." You murmur, skirting around him and making your way to the car.
He doesn't follow you this time.
YOU WENT TO BED WITHOUT OPENING ANY OF THE ENVELOPES, AND IT'S BEEN A WEEK SINCE YOU'VE SEEN CHAN.
He texted you several times, calling you at least twice a day before you sent him a simple stop. He didn't, and you silently muted your conversation thread, ignoring the flooding messages and fiddling with the ring on your finger that said he was yours.
And you were his, of course.
That wasn't the part you were questioning.
You drove yourself to work — making both sets of parents felt the shift between you and Chan. Your little sister felt it, too, as you hoisted her into your backseat and drove her around with you to run errands for your mother and then drop her off to spend the day with your father at the shop — giving Chan a nod in greeting.
The way he frowned made your heart sink, but he didn't beg. He didn't plead, he didn't force you to speak to him and you were glad he didn't. You were really glad he didn't, because he was giving you the space you wanted even if it was clearly hurting him, too. You saw the way his hands twitched at his sides to touch you, the way he shifted in his seat at dinner — the way his eyes pleaded with his parents not to ask any questions and how they listened.
You went out for breakfast alone to avoid speaking to him, and you took yourself to the shop for your snow tires — the snow starting to layer slowly over the course of the passing days. Mingyu and Soonyoung were finally done with their gift shopping, and Chan hadn't been home until nightfall for the last two days…
"It's Christmas Eve," your mother sang, prancing through the living room with her big dress held against her chest. Yours was a soft pink this year, and you snickered from your spot on the couch as she ruffled your hair, "go get ready!"
"I will, I will." You pushed off the couch, shaking your head as you made your way back into your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, glancing at the envelopes on your vanity. You chewed on your lip, sighing as you grabbed the stack and stood at your desk, picking up a letter opener and taking a deep breath.
"It's not a big deal." You whispered to yourself, slicing through the envelope and unfolding it.
Rejected.
You're on envelope number three when Chan slips into your bedroom. You don't notice him, your vision blurry as you read the same words for the fourth time, after much consideration, we regret to inform you…
"Stupid," your voice is thick as you mutter to yourself, crumpling the paper slightly in your hand when you feel his chin on your shoulder. You don't bother fighting it, leaning into his warmth as a singular tear drops onto the paper. "Hey."
"Hey." He murmurs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he sighs. You don't like the way your heart picks up at his touch, your hands reaching for the next envelope. He pushes them out of your hands, slotting the letter opener back into your cannister of pencils before pulling you away from the desk. He turns you around, caging you against the vanity as he peers down at you.
"Are you still—"
"Who were you on the phone with?"
He sighs, resting his forehead against your shoulder, "I don't have to tell you everything I do, Y/N."
"If there's someone else, just end this now."
He looks up immediately, "what? What did you say?"
You breathe out shakily, picking at your nails between your bodies as your lip trembles, "if there's someone else—"
He doesn't let you finish, crashing his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry, angry, even — like he's trying to prove a point. His hands are tight on your hips, pulling you flush to his chest, "never, ever would I do that to you, baby. There is no one else but you. Ever."
"But you—"
"I promise. I'd never step out on you like that. I told you I'd do right by you and I meant that, your honor is mine, too." His eyes are soft as you pout, "seriously? That's what you thought was happening? You think I'd do that to you?"
"No," you admit, covering your teary eyes with your hands, "God, I don't know. I'm just…I'm sorry. Everything fucking sucks and the weather is changing and we are changing, I feel crazy. I think I'm going crazy."
"You're not going crazy," he speaks gently, his hands stupidly comforting as they slide up and down your hips, squeezing lightly. "We are changing. Things are changing, time is passing. You're allowed not to like it."
"Then why is no one else freaking out? Why does it feel like I'm the only one?" You speak behind your hands, and his own wrap around your wrists, moving your arms to wrap around his neck before he presses a kiss to each of your eyebrows, eyelids, cheeks…one to your lips. "Chan."
"We are freaking out. I'm waiting on letters, too. I'm waiting for answers just like you are, just like everyone else. I want to make you proud, too. I want to make my parents proud, your parents, shit, even Rosie. I know you want that too, and knowing that you're doing this with me makes it easier. So what if we don't get into a couple of schools? We're bound to get into one, you know? We're moving down the path we're meant to, at the pace were supposed to. You want all your answers now and that's just not how it works, babe."
"I miss you," you hug him tightly, "I miss sleeping next to you every night."
He sags in your hold, his arms tight around your waist as he trails kisses down your shoulder, "I miss you, too. God, I miss you."
"Sleep here tonight."
"I will."
"And tomorrow night."
"Okay," he nods as you sniffle, "dumbass."
"Fuck you!" You bury your face in his neck despite yourself, feeling him smile against your skin, "Chan, stop."
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." He peppers his lips along your cheeks, kissing the pout on your lips twice before matching your expression. "I haven't seen you in a week because of this shit."
"You still haven't told me who you were on the phone with."
"I don't have to."
You must look unimpressed, because he rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out and clicking around before pointing at the unsaved number. He presses the information icon.
Maybe: Diamond Life Apartments.
You tongue your cheek as he kisses it, tossing his phone on your vanity as you huff.
"And the pictures?"
"Units that fit our budget. How did you even see that?"
You don't reply, slotting your lips with his. He melts into you, his hips pressing against yours before his hands slip under the waistband of your sweatpants. His thumbs brush the lace of your panties, and he pulls away to pull the sweatpants down — peering down at the white fabric. You shove his hand away, "you're not supposed to see that."
He nods slowly, but his fingertips pluck at the collar of your shirt, and you cover your chest with your hand before he can see the matching white lace of the bra. He nods again, fighting back his smile.
"You're fucking me tonight, aren't you?"
"In your dreams."
"Yeah, you're in all of them." He speaks between kisses to your lips, "with the house…the ring…anything you want."
Your cheeks grow hot as he teasing his fingertips beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, "it's our anniversary and we're spending it with our parents and getting stoned with my cousins. Isn't that such shit?"
"You asked me to be your girlfriend on Christmas Eve, Chan. You knew it would be this way."
"Stop calling me Chan. You're pissing me off."
"Don't care, that's your name," you shrug, your breath hitching in your throat as his hands cup your ass. He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping at the skin, "aren't you supposed to be getting dressed, baby?"
"How come you can call me Y/N for the last three weeks but I call you Chan and I get the paddle to my ass?" You huff, feeling him smile against your neck before he meets your eyes again.
"You told me that you didn't like it when I called you cute names while we were fighting, but we've been fighting everyday so I didn't know when I could or couldn't." He says pointedly, your eyes narrowing as he presses another kiss to your lips, "and if you wanna try a paddle, we can—"
"Shut up."
"But you're so pretty bent over my knee…whining for more—"
"Lee Chan."
He squeals as you poke his sides, pressing another kiss to your cheek before pulling his hands out of your sweatpants.
"But, seriously. Look at me," his hand grabs your jaw gently, making you meet his eyes, "it's just you and me. Okay? I'd never do that to you. In a million years."
"A million and one?"
"It's an imposter. Not me."
"Okay," you mumble, blinking up at him as he cooes, pressing a kiss to your puckered lips. "You're so cute, baby. I love you."
"Uh huh."
"Say you love me back or I'm keeping your gift for myself."
"Now I sound materialistic if I say it back," you point out, making him huff as you let out a chuckle. "I love you. Get out, I have to get dressed."
"Just a peek?"
"You already got your peek."
"Is it at least sheer?"
"Chan, get out of my bedroom." You state plainly, jerking your thumb in the direction of the door, and he pouts but moves away slightly. You turn around, your hands moving to grab your hairbrush when you feel his hand on your back. You roll your eyes as it snakes through your hair, tugging gently as he presses his hips against your ass. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his bulge press into you through the thin fabric of your sweatpants.
"Just for good measure, you know I'm only yours, right?" His voice is low against your ear, and you hum in the affirmative as his other hand lightly drags a finger down the column of your throat, wrapping gingerly at the base with a soft squeeze. "And you're mine, right? All of you. Mine."
"Yours," you breathe out, and his fingers in your hair let go gently, soothing your scalp before both hands trail down to your chest, cupping your tits firmly, the rough material of your bra helping the friction against your nipples. You can't help but push your hips back against him, feeling his teeth nip at your earlobe.
"All of you."
"All of me."
"Good girl, baby." He kisses the shell of your ear, "I'll see you later, beautiful."
Dinner is even slower than last year.
You're happily surrounded by family, and you can tell your parents noticed you and Chan are back on speaking terms. None of them say anything, simply watching the way he whispers about your mother's dress while unwrapping your silverware, the way you press a kiss to his cheek when he asks you to pass the salt, the way you both blush furiously when Rosie scrunches her nose at you and asks if she can be your flower girl when you get married.
Of course, you both say yes.
The questions you once hated are no longer asked. Your parents (read: your mother) no longer badger you about when you're getting married, when you're having kids, when you're settling down — instead, all four of them turning the focus on Chan. They ask him when he'll be proposing, when he's going to get his act together, when he's going to start thinking about your futures together and apart — and you can't help but smile smugly as he sinks in his chair. You eat your food silently, letting him drown in the questions as he gently nudges your foot under the table every time it's a 'we' question rather than a 'he' question.
"You're cynical," he murmurs as everyone gathers back around the front door, saying their nightly goodbyes and Rosie is leaning against your hip as your mother and Mrs. Lee have a laugh. Your father takes her swiftly, tucking her into her carseat in the back of his car before you and Chan get a chance to say your flurry of goodbyes and kissed cheeks.
"I thought it would never fucking end," you scrunch your nose as you take your coat off in the passenger seat, your dress rustling as you sink into the comfortable felt seats of your car. He snorted, "you? What about me!? You left me to die out there."
"We die like men, Lee Chan. I listened to them for years!"
"…Very true, very valid and I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be." You mutter, but he doesn't start the car. You spare a glance his way, seeing him already staring at you. "What now?"
"Did I tell you how pretty you look tonight?" He leans over the center console, innocently running his eyes over you. You raise a brow, "yes, Chan. You cried in my bedroom and told me I looked like Ariel if she slayed and had a voice when she met Prince Eric."
"Or Princess Peach."
"Both are princesses, are you trying to tell me something?"
"That I know no other characters with pink dresses." He kisses your cheek, "and that—"
"If you call me your princess I'm gonna throw up."
"But you are."
"Bleugh, next."
"I've called you that before and you've never complained," he snorts, turning the car on as you roll your eyes. You hate the way your cheeks heat, your fingers toying with the pink tulle of your dress before you peer over at him as he peels out of the parking lot.
"What are you giving me this year?"
"All my love."
"Chan."
"It's true!" He argues as he slows to a stop at the end of the street, preparing to drive up to the spot where Mingyu and Soonyoung said they'd be waiting for you both. It was your spot, technically — Mingyu and Soonyoung just happened to stumble across it when you and Chan snuck up there to get a little touchy-feely in his car during your graduation party with the excuse of buying more chips.
"Babe, come on." You whine, tugging at his suit jacket as he tongues his cheek, pulling forward as the light turns green, "you can't say I'm your princess and not tell me."
"I didn't get to say it, you cut me off. Bleugh, next, if I recall correctly."
"I'll suck your dick if you tell me right now."
"Tempting offer," he reaches over, pinching your cheek between his knuckles, "but you'll wanna do that after, anyway. Trust me."
"I don't like you very much right now." You cross your arms on your chest, your fingers toying with the pendant of the little gold necklace you wore today. Your dress was floor-length with long sleeves and a square neckline, and you'd worn your hair down and back at Rosie's instruction. She'd begged you to do her hair like yours, and you'd even slipped a little tiara into the bump of her curls.
The rest of the ride was silent aside from Chan's phone on AUX, She's My Religion by Pale Waves being the last song to play as you made your way up the hill, snow covering the patches of grass and making you scrunch your nose. He slows to a stop, turning the car off before turning to you.
"I need you to open this before we do anything else." He reaches into the glove box, pulling out an envelope. It's addressed to you but the mailbox is that of your father's shop. It's from your old university, and you glance at him as he pushes it into your chest. You take it with a sigh, shaking your head as you hastily rip it open. You slip the letter out, giving him a bored look — but there's a twinkle of something in his eyes.
"What do you know, Lee Chan?"
"That I love you."
"Uh huh," you must look unimpressed, because he points at the letter, "read it."
You make a show of undoing the folds of the letter, clearing your throat, "Esteemed Y/N L/N…they're really laying it on thick, aren't they?"
"Read, baby."
"I'm reading, I'm reading."
"It is my distinct pleasure to inform you…" You trail off, sitting up abruptly as the words get caught in your throat. Chan is giddy next to you, "It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that you've been granted admission as a graduate student for the P.S.M program in Biotechnology for the upcoming Spring Quarter…"
You feel your lashes wet, Chan's fingers gently wiping your cheeks, "I told you you'd get in."
"I'm gonna throw up," you blurt, your voice thick as he laughs. His arms wrap around you tightly, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks as you cried into his shoulder, "Chan, I'm going to throw up."
"No, you're not. Because this suit was very expensive and you don't want to spend your Christmas cleaning puke out of your car." His teasing tone only makes you cry harder, his hand smoothing back your back in soothing circles, "shh, I know. So stressful, huh? But now I can say I told you so…and who knows, maybe you'll get a doctorate."
"Please," you scoff, sniffling, "I can't wait for an acceptance letter to that, I might die."
"Well, if you put three different mailing addresses you'll certainly drive yourself mad, my love."
"Fuck you."
"God, I wish you would."
You pinch his arm as he giggles, batting you away lightly as you slump in your seat. You take a deep breath, looking at the letter on the dashboard before looking back at him, "did you get a letter?"
"Nothing yet," he shakes his head, "but that one got to the shop this morning, it would've been there all weekend if I hadn't dropped by to pick up your gift."
"Getting me a gift from my dad's store is a cheap cop-out."
"I never said it was from the store, I said I went there to pick it up."
"Well, what is it?" You sniffle, closing your eyes. "And don't tell me it's something expensive, because my stomach already hurts at the money I dropped for your gift earlier."
"You might be upset if I tell you the price."
"Then don't, just give it to me and pretend it was cheap."
"I don't think I can."
"Why?" You peel open your eyes, only to widen them the moment you see a small velvet box in his hand. He nibbles on his lip, fiddling with the crease of it as you sit up properly, "Chan."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what—"
"Like you're about to break my heart."
"Chan," you cover your face, letting out a frustrated groan as a fresh batch of hot tears simmer in your eyes, "Chan."
"Baby, please. Just listen." He pleads, and you trill your lips to stave off a sob as he pulls your hands from your eyes, his thumb running over the promise ring he'd given you exactly a year ago. "Just listen to me."
You nod silently, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he wipes his knuckles across your cheeks, "baby, stop crying."
"I can't."
"You can."
"I love you."
"I love you, too." He presses a quick kiss to your forehead, before he takes your hands in his. "I don't want to ever take away from your personal achievements. I am infinitely proud of you and I'm incredibly honored to be the one that calls you mine."
"Chan." Your lips tug into a pout, dragging his name out as you bury your face in his neck. He wraps his arms around you gently, kissing the side of your face as he speaks.
"This is not a proposal until you want it to be. I didn't expect this either, but I don't have another gift prepared or properly wrapped for tonight. We can hold off. I can do this another time."
You're silent in his arms, your fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. It's gotten longer, long enough to tug on as you feel him keep kissing your face.
"…And you won't be upset?"
"Never upset with you, my love."
"Can I see it?" You pull back slightly, and he nods, shakily popping the box open. Your pout only grows deeper as you steady his hand, planting a kiss to his temple as he turns on the courtesy lights. A thin gold band with a princess-cut diamond, and three side stones — two sapphire, one emerald. It matches your promise ring, and his. His eyes are scanning your face as he shifts slightly, "do you like it?"
"Did you ask my dad?"
"And your mom. And Rosie."
"Give me your speech." You sniffle, resting your head against his. He blinks at you, and you wave him on, "go on. Let's hear it. Question and all."
"I love you." He starts, and you nod quietly, your thumb tracing his nailbeds as his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you over the center console and sitting you in his lap. He moves the seat back slightly, and you snuggle into his chest as he takes a shaky deep breath.
"I love you, and I remember when we were in middle school and I told you that for the first time, you told me that it was selfish to say that. That I loved you, because the point of being in love was that there was no I in team. You didn't let me tell you I loved you again without interrupting me and telling me that we loved each other, and that stuck with me for a very long time. I wanted to be in love with you, forever, even if it meant constantly getting interrupted because I knew how you felt about it but I can't help but give in to that selfishness. To love you and want you all to myself, knowing that I'd never get over you if I had even just a taste of what it was like for you to be in love with me. Our relationship has taken the worst times of my life and made them all that much sweeter, and amongst it all, you've made me a better man. I know I have a lot to live up to, and I know I've made you so many promises…and I intend to keep each and every one of them. I will always, always embrace your individuality and I always want things to be as easy as they've always been between you and me. You call my name, and I'll come. If time is the issue, if school is the issue, if I am not man enough for you yet, I will wait. Patiently, and I will be better for you. I will do everything I can to be the man you need, and in turn, I want you to be everything you've ever wanted. I want you to feel fulfilled. My love for you is rooted in selfishness, I will never deny that, and even if you deny me now, or tomorrow, or in ten years time…I'll still love you endlessly, if it means you're happy with yourself, and your honor is mine even if mine is not yours. I know this is a lot of me, me, and me…but I hope you'll have me, anyway. Will you…marry me?"
You nod your head silently, putting up your hand. It trembles slightly as you tap the box with your ring finger. He takes it out quickly, sliding it down your finger with shaky hands as you both hear a car pull up into the snow. You don't give him a chance to speak, pressing your lips to his as his thumb adjusts the ring on your finger before you move to hold his face gently. It's cold against his cheek, you can tell by the way he flinches — until you hear the slam of a car door.
"I love you." You mumble against his lips, "we're going to go up there for an hour, pretend we care about what they have to say, then I'm going to pretend I'm cold and you're going to walk me down here and I'm fucking you in the backseat. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he's breathless as he looks up at you, "yes ma'am."
"Perfect. Let's go get fucking blitzed." You pat his cheek, before turning back, "and yes, by the way. I will marry you."
"Great," he nods, but there's a gloss over his eyes that tells you the feigned nonchalance is not nearly enough to contain his emotions. You press a kiss to his lips again, "I love you, so much."
"I know."
"Say it back, dipshit."
"There she is," he smiles, making you huff as he chuckles, wiping his eyes carefully, "I love you, honey."
"Are you still going to cry at our wedding?"
"I could cry right now."
"No balls."
Tears start to stream freely down his face as you gape, quickly wiping his cheeks as you plant your lips all over his face, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
"I love you so much, Y/N."
"I know, I know I love you, honey—"
A knock on the window makes you both jump, and you quickly cover Chan's face by holding him to your chest as you crack the window. You raise a brow as you look up at Mingyu, "yes?"
"Are you guys gonna get out or make out, 'cause I got shit to do." Soonyoung interjects from behind him, and the taller man nods and shrugs as he steps back. You roll your eyes, "you never change, Hosh."
"You're still hot, too." He says smugly, and Chan scoffs from against your chest, rolling the window down blindly and pointing a finger at his cousin, "I'll fucking end you, shithead."
"Yeah, because a little guy with lipstick stamps all over his face is going to beat my ass." He teases, and you give him an unamused look as you roll up the window, "we'll be right there."
"Don't get stuck, now." He turns on his heel, whistling as Mingyu shakes his head and follows up the hill.
"I like the lipstick stamps, thank you very much." He mutters, his arm around your waist tightening before he peppers kisses at the base of your throat, "you still want that summer wedding?"
"In the woods?
"Like in Breaking Dawn?"
"I'm getting déjà vu."
"Mmh." He keeps kissing up your neck, his hand finding yours and interlacing your fingers as he trails up your jaw, "you smell so fucking good."
"Keep it in your pants. Twenty minutes." You breathe out, but you lean into his lips more. He tugs at your earring, "I'm already hard."
"Not my problem."
"It is. Did you know my girl's goin' to grad school?"
"Is she, now?" You run your free hand through his hair as he kisses your cheek repeatedly, but you tug him back, earning a soft whine and a rut against your thigh from his hips. "Get it together, baby."
"Just touch me a little. Spit in my mouth, even."
"You're insane."
"About you."
You plant a kiss on his lips, reaching into your seat to grab your coat and pulling it over your shoulders as he pouts, kissing up your neck. You hate how easily your underwear sticks to you, but you ignore the throbbing sensation and unlock the door — your hand easily finding his buldge over his pants and giving it a tight squeeze.
"Behave," you mutter sternly, his eyes wide as he nods. His lips part slightly, and you roll your eyes as you lean over slightly. He instinctively opens his mouth for you, sticking his tongue out and letting you spit onto it. He lurches forward to kiss you, and you let him meet your lips as you feel him grinding against your palm greedily. You give him another squeeze, swallowing his gasp before pushing the door open, "don't act up, Lee Chan."
"Tell me you love me."
"I love you."
"I could literally cum right now."
"Get out of the car, idiot." You roll your eyes again, but don't fight back the smile that graces your lips as you zip up your coat. He slides out shortly after, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself in his pants.
"One hour," he holds up a finger as he grabs your hand, and you raise a brow. "Easy. I've got this."
Not easy, and neither of you got this.
Chan is quietly listening to Mingyu talk about how he's finally got a foot in with Tzuyu from the jewelry shop in town, a long time friend of yours. You're listening to Soonyoung talk about his boyfriend from back home, how he went home with his parents and they've been struggling to communicate.
You can feel his bulge under your thighs as you sit on his lap, the two of you sharing a chair Mingyu brought out from the back of his truck. You can feel him rut against you every few minutes, genuinely trying to get comfortable but failing as the softness of your thighs tightens with every movement — and you're both grateful that Mingyu and Soonyoung are too zonked too notice it. You feel a sharp inhale against your neck about twenty minutes, and you almost think he's finished in his pants — but a strained look tells you he's fine.
"So, we heard you might have some news," Mingyu suddenly says, and you cross your legs on top of Chan's as you raise a brow. He blushes something awful as he looks away, and Mingyu wiggles his brows as he hands the joint over to you. You hold it between your lips, taking a quick drag as you tilt your head, "me? News?"
"Oh, cut the shit." Soonyoung says, a shit-eating grin spreading on his lips as he leans over his knees, resting his elbows on them. "Tell us already. Confirm or perish, Miss Y/N."
You roll your eyes, holding up your left hand. They glance at it, furrowing their brows and looking at each other. Mingyu scoots closer, holding your hand to his face before Chan swats him away and pulls your hand to his chest.
"You're engaged?" Mingyu asks, confusion crossing his features as it does your own.
"Uh, yeah? Is that not what you were talking about?"
"Sure, whatever. Uh, congrats," Soonyoung waves it off, before clasping his hands together, "grad school. You got in, right?!"
Realization crosses your face as both men look giddy for your answer, excitement gleaming in their eyes and warming your chest. You bite back your smile, nodding slowly as they cheer loudly. You cover your ears as Soonyoung smothers you in a bone-crushing hug, and Mingyu smacks the back of Chan's head lightly.
"You should learn from her! She's so smart and cool and you're some frat boy." Mingyu turns his nose up at him, and you manage to free yourself from Soonyoung's embrace to rub the back of Chan's head.
"Hey! He's still waiting on his letters!" You defend him, tucking his head to your chest as Chan sticks his tongue out at them, "yeah! I'm still waiting!"
"Listen, doll." Soonyoung points at Chan, "you can't expect wifey here to carve the pavement for you to drag your nuts. Either you get into grad school or you die trying, and if you're not going to go then you build her a house with your hands."
"I know how to love my girl, thank you very much. I'd build her a palace, so fuck off." Chan smushes his face into your neck, and Soonyoung rolls his eyes, the whites dusted pink from the weed.
"God, I miss Jihoon." He slumps back on his chair. Mingyu scrunches his nose, "then call him, idiot. I'm sure he misses you, too."
"This is why Tzuyu doesn't fuck with you."
"First of all, Tzuyu and I are gonna go steady. Just you wait."
"She invited you to her New Year's Eve party, Mingyu. She didn't ask you on a date."
"So? She might want a New Year's kiss! I can't risk not taking any chances she might give me!" Mingyu exclaims, and Chan taps his watch quietly.
"Hour and ten, baby." He whispers into your neck, and you sigh, looking over at Mingyu and Soonyoung.
"Fellas, I hate to do this—"
"No! C'mon, Y/N! We're only here for a few more days before Soonyoung makes us drive back to smooch his boyfriend!"
"Whine all you want, bud, but I'm practically freezing my toes off." You grimace, gesturing at your open-toed heels with a stiff hand. "I'm just gonna warm up. I'll be back."
"You guys might as well go home," Soonyoung scoffs, nudging Mingyu with his elbow. "I told you they couldn't hang."
"Oh! Okay!" You nod, cueing in malicious compliance as you hold the joint back out to Mingyu. He takes it suspiciously, and you grab Chan's hand and stick your tongue out at Soonyoung, "have fun missing your boyfriend while I fuck my fiancé, shithead."
The boys nearly fall over themselves trying to argue with you, but you hold your head high and pull Chan down the hill to your car. You fish the keys of his pocket, letting him pull you close and kissing your lips messily as you unlock the car.
"I know it's our anniversary," he mumbles, actively trying to pull the zipper of your coat down in the freezing winter air, "and I promise I'll make it up to you but if I'm not in you in the next five minutes, I might die."
"You won't die."
"But you can take it for me, right? You're my good girl, right, baby?"
Your cheeks grow warm despite the weather, your hand finally unlocking the doors as he kisses down your neck.
"Trying to knock me up already?"
"Fuck, don't say that."
His hips press against you, and you hardly have a chance to open the door fully before he's pushing you inside, the warmth engulfing you both as he slams the door shut and makes quick work of your shoes, tossing them into the front seat. You're not surprised as he kisses the arches of your feet, dragging his lips up your ankles and pushing the skirt of your dress out of the way as you try to pull off your coat.
If Chan is anything when it comes to you, it's needy.
If Chan is anything when he's stoned, it's needy.
His kisses against your thighs are wet and messy, and you hardly have time to pull the zipper of your dress down like some sort of contortionist when you feel his face pressing into the damp fabric of your panties. You hear him inhale deeply as you manage to pull the dress over your head, lazily tossing it into the front seat as you feel his tongue press against your clit through the fabric, your thighs closing around his head before he forces them apart, whining at the taste of you coating his tongue through the fabric.
Your hand pulls at his hair, your skin already slick with sweat as you make him look up. His chin and lips are already covered with your juices, "I thought you wanted to fuck me?"
"I do," he pants out, "but you look so pretty. I have to appreciate it first."
You don't get to speak again because he shoves your hand out of the way, nosing at your pussy before pulling you firmly onto his face. You cover your mouth as you gasp out, his lips sucking your clit perfectly through the soaked underwear and making your skin prickle. Your hands card through his hair, holding him firmly in place as you rock your cunt against his tongue, before you feel his fingers pull your panties to the side and dive back in. He swirls his tongue just the way you like, whines of his name falling from your lips as your thighs tremble. He pulls back, his face covered in spit and arousal when you feel his fingers run through your folds, pressing hard against your clit and tracing tight circles. Your stomach caves in slightly, thighs closing around his hand as he tuts.
"Come on, baby. Can't keep your pretty thighs open for me? Didn't you miss me?" He pries your legs open with one hand, a pout on your lips as he presses a quick kiss to them. "Don't you miss me touching you like this?"
You nod limply as the embarrassment of bringing you so close to the edge already settles in, gasping lightly as he lands a wet slap to your clit. You rut up against his hand, earning another as he kisses up the side of your neck, "always so wet for me. You love me, baby?"
"Love you," you nod frantically as his fingertips tease your entrance, "love you so much."
"Love me so much, right? Wore this cute set for me? Wanted to look so so pretty for me, right?" His whispering only makes you whimper against his neck, your hands pulling at his suit jacket when you realize he's still fully dressed. "Need words, baby."
"Take off your c-clothes," you stammer out, your fingers pawing at his tie as he nips at your neck. He smiles against your skin, "but I want to look good for you."
"I'll touch myself for you," you offer, your voice shaky as he barely dips his fingers inside you. Your own tighten, "wanna earn it. Wanna see you, please…"
"Please?"
"Please, daddy."
He kisses down your chest, his free hand unbuckling his belt expertly and pulling it through the loops, tossing it somewhere in the car as he gets back down to your cunt. He sucks your clit into his mouth, pulling you onto his face harder as he slides his fingers inside you. You let a choked moan out, his fingers moving so fast you can almost taste your release on the tip of your tongue, your thighs shaking as his mouth forces you across the finish line with a hard suck. Your fingers tug at his hair, your other hand covering your swollen clit from his mouth. You can feel him pout against your knuckles, kissing them needily when you feel his tongue snake over the ring he'd just given you.
You use your foot to push his shoulders back, his eyes fixed between your thighs like a man starved. His hand wraps around your ankle, and you quickly close your legs, lifting your hips to pull your panties off. His fingers fumble with his tie as you spread your thighs again, resting your ankle on his shoulder as he pulls it off his neck and throws it aside.
"Want you." You mumble, your fingers tracing over your puffy clit with a soft groan, your head falling back against the door as he unbuttons his shirt haphazardly, straining against his pants as he untucks his shirt. You huff as he trails his eyes up, your fingers spreading your cunt open lewdly, "look here. Want you to see how much I missed your cock inside me."
"Don't say that, I won't make it out of these pants," he whines, almost breaking the zipper of his pants as you sink your fingers inside you, thrusting them in and out shallowly before pulling down the cups of your bra and cupping your chest, pinching your nipple between your fingers with soft moans falling from your lips. He fumbles with tugging his shirt off, kissing the side of your foot and up to your knee as he throws it over his shoulder. He yanks you to him as he tugs his hard cock out of his underwear, not bothering to pull them further down before he pulling your fingers out of you and pressing them against his length. He ruts against your palm, letting you smear your cum and arousal all over him before you wrap your fingers around him tightly, tapping his tip against your clit with a whine before grinding yourself against it.
"Put it inside, baby." He orders, his eyes dark as you oblige, biting your lip as you tilt your hips up and guide him into your entrance. Your breath hitches, the stretch familiar and so good as you move to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He groans, holding himself over you, his fingers digging into the seat under you as you try to move your hips against him. His hands pin your hips to the seat, "you do this on purpose, you know."
You peer at him through your lashes, your nails digging into his shoulders as he gives you a hard thrust, your moan choked as he builds a brutal pace, "you do all these things to get me desperate and wonder why you can't fucking walk the next day."
"L-Love it," you try to reply, your thighs tight around his hips, "love it when you fuck me l-like this."
"God, I know…" his head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut as you whimper underneath him, "pussy's so fuckin' wet…feels so good, baby. You're mine, right?"
His hand wraps gently around your throat, squeezing softly as you squeeze your cunt around him, "all of you. You're mine. This pretty mouth that talks all that shit, mine…takes my cock so well, too. Right?"
His hand trails down, pulling at the middle of your bra roughly, and you hear the flimsy fabric tear as he pushes it aside. He pinches your nipple between two fingers, giving the other a soft squeeze with a grunt, "these are mine. Always been mine, gorgeous. Perfect. You love it when I paint these with my cum and you're mine, right?"
Your head is swimming as he picks up the pace, his hands squeezing your thighs in a death grip, "these are mine, too. Press these pretty thighs together and fuck my cock between them when you're not being a good girl, yeah? Make you all messy and clean you up with my tongue after. Wrap these fuckin' beautiful thighs around my head, God…you're mine, right?"
Said thighs are shaking as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, holding them apart almost painfully as his hand snakes down between them and traces circles into your swollen clit. Your hips chase the friction, watching him bite his lip as you clench around him. He lands a sharp slap to your cunt, tears pricking at your eyes at the stimulation.
"Greedy cunt's mine, too, huh?" He mutters, throwing his head back as he gives you another hard thrust of his cock, your jaw falling slack as he hits the perfect spot. "Right there, huh? Right there, baby?"
"Y-Yes," you breathe out, pinching your nipples between your fingers as he sinks into you over and over.
"Perfect fucking pussy…so wet and needy for my cock, right? Always ready for me, whenever I want…gonna fill you up, okay?" He leans forward, biting the lobe of your ear, "I own you, you know that? Bet you did. You're my smart girl, right? So smart…gonna be a grad student and make me proud, right? So proud of you, princess. I'll tell you everyday."
You nod, tears rushing down your cheeks as you feel your thighs tighening around him, feeling him sucking the soft skin under your ear before he speaks softly, "you're mine. Just like I'm yours. You own me, too, baby…be proud of me, too."
You whine loudly as your orgasm rips through you, feeling him chuckle as he quickly follows. You wrap your legs around his hips tight, pulling him into a searing kiss as you keep rolling your hips up. He takes the hint, keeping his pace as you moan into his mouth, "missed your cock so much, missed you. Love you."
"Proud of me?"
"So proud of you."
CHAN ALMOST THREW UP RECEIVING HIS ACCEPTANCE LETTER TO GRADUATE SCHOOL.
And he cried. He bawled in your arms in the middle of your bedroom, holding the same letter you'd opened just days prior in his hands. You kissed him all over his face, stamping your lipstick into his skin as he cried quietly. He pulled you close, the letter long forgotten on the ground as he tried to kiss you back, eventually managing to pin you against the carpet.
Your idea of celebration was quiet and private, and your parents excitedly made a nice dinner and had Mingyu and Soonyoung over before they left for the city again. Soonyoung once more inhaled your mother's chocolate cake, but you'd winked and handed Mingyu an extra Tupperware. He thanked you with a kiss to your forehead that earned him a smack from Chan, and you'd laughed until your sides hurt.
The thing about loving Chan was just that.
His devotion to it all. To you, to loving you, to being yours. He'd never known how to be anything else, and he's admitted he never wants to know, either. He makes good on his promises — he practically worships the ground you walk on, he kisses you breathless and keeps it cool in front of your parents. Your graduate school acceptance is the biggest deal you'd known since your first words — and Chan makes it a point to keep it that way. He talks you up to anyone he can, talking about how his girlfriend is a graduate student and she's going to be the best of the best in her field. He talks about how cool and smart you are, how hardworking and sweet.
He still whispers dirty things to you in the corners of your homes, don't get it twisted — something about how pretty you are with his cock in your mouth, how you must love being treated like his 'dirty little slut' so much…but you ignore the flame in your cheeks as he kisses you innocently, slipping away like nothing happened.
You'll be back in the city soon, too. Nestled away in your apartment, walking on campus — hand in hand.
Your engagement ring is nestled beneath your shirt most days, strung on a necklace with the same locket you were wearing last year when he asked you to be his girlfriend. Neither of you said anything, but you'd quickly learned how eager he was to defile the ring and the idea of you as his, eternally — often asking you to wear it when you fooled around, getting off on the idea of calling you his wife and making sure you knew he meant it. He was going to make you his wife — smart, gentle, with a loud mouth and a soft heart, you were his for the taking. Loving, worshipping…all of it.
He owned you, your heart, and he's stuck his claim years ago.
Just like you owned him.
Just like you reassured him.
"You're mine, right? And I'm yours?"
"Always. Yours, and mine."
what happens when a drunk chan wants to cuddle while the group's in italy, except no one knows you're dating...
pairing: dino x 14thmember!reader
genre: fluff, lightly suggestive? (just very detailed making out i guess)
word count: 1.1k
cw: kisses/making out, chan had too much wine, secret relationship, set during nana tour
a/n: i'm finally back! this wasn't what i was originally going to put out, but i've been stuck trying to finish a different fic so here yall go 👀 i will be back on my normal posting schedule now!!! could NOT find a third pic so i guess it's just 2 for now
dividers by @purefantasia
someone lands onto your bed with an "oomph"
assuming it's wonwoo, for the third time, maybe coming to give you another souvenir, you wink an eye open. "you need something, won?" but instead your greeted with a sloppy, suspiciously wine tasting peck on the lips. oh lord.
you widen your eyes at the attack, staring at the culprit who pulls away with a dramatic "mwah!"
"chan? what are you doing? what if there's someone in here?" you ramble, sitting up properly to scan the room, accidentally knocking into chan's head in the process.
"ow! y/n～!," he sulks, "aren't you happy to see your boyfriend? what's with the aggression～"
thankfully, the room is empty, or at least you think so. it's basically pitch black save for the moonlight that peeks in through a sheer curtain. you turn your head back at chan, sighing when you can practically smell the wine coming off of him.
"you're so drunk, aren't you?" you ask, and all he does is nod in response, pushing you down onto your back and laying down next to you. normally, you'd nag him. you'd tell him that you've warned him about the damage he'd probably do to his career if he wouldn't stop downing glasses of wine like it's water, but it's not a normal day, so you hold back this time.
since the group's tour had started, you and chan had not gotten any time to yourselves whatsoever. and as much as you were thankful for the free trip to italy, it'd only prolonged the time till you could even kiss chan, let alone cuddle.
even if sharing the same bed was normal for the members, one of them nuzzling into your neck? yeah, probably not something you could pass off as platonic. and chan? he liked to do a whole lot of that.
speaking of the members, there's a faint sound of laughter and singing that is barely muffled by the closed door- a reminder of just how risky this whole situation is, but you try to ignore it for the sake of being able to enjoy this one moment.
chan shuffles around before rolling over so that half of his body is on yours. he snuggles into your chest, as expected, and closes his eyes.
"that wine was really good, though," he mumbles quietly, as if all the energy he had a minute ago just vanished into the warmth of your bed. you chuckle at his deliberation, pondering a bit yourself. "too bad i never got to try any, think i passed out right after the game." you respond, recalling most of the evening where you were given an hour to do a mission.
you failed (the mission being that you had to carry an egg on a spoon around the entire house without dropping it, but mingyu accidentally bumped into you...), but you were glad to see that chan had passed it (plus, it gave him a chance to give you a hug with no suspicion).
he hums. "well, do you wanna try some?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you. you blink a couple times, confused. "are you really going to go out there and try to lug back a bottle without them noticing you? because i’m not getting dragged into more karaoke.”
shaking his head slightly, he laughs, his voice vibrating against you. “no, i was thinking of something more like this,”
he pulls himself up so that he’s hovering over you. his eyes flicker over every feature of your face. you watch him, almost shuddering at his gaze. suddenly, you’re thankful for the lack of light, because you don’t want to imagine how red your face is; it’s been awhile since you and chan have been doing, well, whatever he’s doing.
before you can really ask about that, he captures your lips in a hungry kiss. you let your eyes flutter shut at the contact. the whole move is pretty cheesy, but the acidic taste of wine on his lips distracts you well enough to ignore the thought.
it’s an addicting flavor, and you swipe your tongue against his lips, greedily taking as much as he’ll give you.
it’s always moments like this where chan lets loose. normally, he’s shy about his love, even when you two are alone, so it’s always a surprise whenever he’s got alcohol in his system. it almost makes you forget that he’s the one who suggested keeping you two a secret.
he parts his lips, letting your tongue roam, sighing when he feels your hand cup the back of his neck and pull it closer to you.
you two don’t really keep track of how long this goes on for, both of you being dazed in some way. but finally, you pull back.
there’s a couple seconds of breathless panting before he grins at you. “taste good?”
you smile back, “eh, would probably be better from a glass”, laughing when he gives you a look of defeat and collapses next to you, quick to pull you back into his embrace.
by now, it’s probably some wild hour in the night, and you know that chan should head out before someone barges in to go to sleep, but he doesn’t seem to want to let go.
“chan,” you warn, looking up at him to find that he’s practically passed out already, eyes closed as he breathes shallowly. “chan, you should go.” you say, even though you don’t really want him to.
“i’ll be out before someone gets here, they’re all bound to just sleep on the ground at this rate,” he yawns, tightening his grip on you.
if you knew any better, you’d push him off the bed, but for right now, you choose to believe him and you fall asleep to the sound of his heart beat.
-
“don’t jeonghan and dokyeom do this all time? it’s not anything abnormal…”
“okay well not like that!”
“just let them be, it’s probably nothing.”
“nah, what the hell.”
“the water isn’t working again!”
you faintly hear a mush of voices overlapping each other, but it’s none of your concern right now. chan has most definitely not left yet, still snuggled up against you.
the smart choice right now is to get up and check what’s on the agenda for today, but you don’t make that choice and decide to rest for a bit more. the warmth of chan’s body is a little too comfortable right now.
he stirs and shuffles a bit before you feel his hair tickle your neck as he seemingly looks up and plants a soft kiss to your jaw.
bad idea.
“HUH?”
“THEY’RE DATING GUYS THEY’RE DATING”
“damn chan i didn’t know you had it in you!”
“eugh”
your eyes fly open as you practically pop up into a sitting position. chan does the same.
you’re both equally as horrified to see that a good amount of the members are standing near the foot of your bed. they’re either shouting or standing with a hand covering their mouths.
chan groans besides you, falling back onto the bed as basically slam your face into a pillow.
looks like you two are never being left alone again.
When Lee Chan turned 13 he had not even cared to figure out what his mark might be after it wasn’t something he could see with the bare eye.
It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he was just a busy guy filled with ideas for the future and things he wanted to explore and see. He was pretty nonchalant that way, what was bound to happen would happen, and whoever his soulmate was, she would be bound to him.
His parents were a little worried when nothing seemed to show up, but he just shrugged and kept dancing with a smile on his lips. He had been happier, a little more perky than before his birthday, but nothing that would raise any flags, if you weren’t really paying attention.
It took him almost a year before he noticed. He was sitting around the dinner table with his parents and his brother when he suddenly felt heat rise to his face, heart beating and a rage filled him.
He had somewhat panicked. Telling them all that he was getting mad, but that it didn’t make any sense, because he did not know why he felt that way. His parents had laughed and hugged him, all while he felt like he could rip apart the world.
He quickly understood that what he had felt wasn’t his own emotions, but yours. It had made him smile. The more he concentrated the more he noticed, and as time went on, the better he got to know you, the easier it was to distinguish where your feelings ended and his own began.
It was complex, especially on the days where you were happy and he was annoyed or the other way around. When he had met his 12 older brothers they had all looked at him with a bit of pity, but he didn’t really mind. He knew you were okay, and as long as you had more happy days than sad, he wasn’t really in a position to complain, even if it would take him a while to find you.
Chan did his best to be as happy and as content as he could. It helped that he did something he absolutely enjoyed, being on that stage was where he belonged. And all he did was hope that he got to rub off on you a little, he hoped he would be able to lift your moods on the days where you felt a little sad or discouraged.
You had always been a happy kid, so when you turned 13 and nothing happened, much like Chan you just shrugged and kept living that sweet life of yours.
When he joined Pledis however a change happened, and that’s where you discovered just what bound the two of you together.
He was more nervous than he had been previously, there was joy as well, but a lot of uncertainty that left you wondering just what he was up to.
Your uncertainty didn’t come before later in life, when it was time to pick just what you wanted to do with your life, and by then he was happy, ecstatic might even be a better word for it. He felt on the top of the world, and you couldn’t help but be jealous of him. He seemed somewhat care free, as if he had everything figured out.
As the two of you grew older, you did your best to track his emotions, hopefully to find some sort of pattern. And although most of those around you claimed it was a task without much purpose, you knew it was all you had to go for in the end.
Whoever he was, he was nervous to the point of nauseating around the time of award season, music not movies, so by instinct alone you had to assume he worked in the industry somehow. And with that tiny bit of information you had decided to do what you did best, which was fashion, more in particular styling.
You hoped that following your dreams would allow him to feel the difference in your mood, especially since your parents hadn’t been that thrilled by your change from law to, what up until then, had only been a somewhat expensive hobby.
You hoped you could make him as proud as he made you. And you couldn’t wait to tell him that he was the reason you had the guts to follow your dreams
Chan had suffered from a severe amount of anxiety and nausea the past few weeks, and luckily it seemed as if it finally came to a stop last night, when the little silk sheet he liked to call your emotions that wrapped around him, had transformed from anxiety to relief and gratitude.
“How are you doing today?” Wonwoo looked at him with a subtle smile all while his eyes held a bit of worry.
Chan smiled brightly. “It seems like it’s all over” he sent his hyung a beaming smile, one that was so contagious that the older man couldn’t help but return it.
“That’s good Dino”
He nodded along, somewhat lost in thought as he looked to the floor. “Yeah it is. Sometimes I can't help but wonder what makes her have such strong emotions” he shrugged, but for no particular reason.
“Imagine how she feels, our lives are chaotic and emotional enough, you know? And we know what causes the anxiety and the nerves and the happiness and sadness. Imagine feeling it all and not knowing the cause of it”
Dino sighed. “Yeah, she doesn’t have it easy being bound to me”
Wonwoo smiled as he shook his head. “No, none of them have it easy with the thirteen of us. But if you look close enough to those who have already found their other halves, it’s not like they’re a walk in the park either”
And as if it had been planned Ruby and Woozi entered the room, currently in what felt like a heated argument. “I’m not saying that it’s bad, I’m just saying that it feels wrong” Ruby said as she walked away from her soulmate, he was right behind her rolling his eyes dramatically.
“You just don’t see the vision yet! If we slow it down too much it won’t end up matching with the lyrics”
“Then change the lyrics!” Ruby yelled back, as she grabbed a water bottle right as Woozi buried his face in his hands, letting out a sound that could only be described as frustration.
As quickly as they had appeared they were gone again.
“I’m sure yours will make your life a living hell in no time” Wonwoo said as he bumped shoulders with Chan. He responded by laughing.
Chan looked for you everywhere he went, he looked at every person in every room that he entered, he looked at every soul he passed on the streets, desperately hoping that some day he would feel that connection, that pull that people often described.
And that day wasn’t any different, so he did not see where he was going as he did his best to scan every face in the crowd, while he walked down the street. That was where he bumped into you.
You had dropped your bag, your iced americano and the few folders you were currently carrying. Almost silently swearing, but he heard you, and every hair on his body stood up as he looked at you. He felt the silk sheet of your emotions, the panic with a hint of embarrassment.
Both feelings that perfectly matched the red stained cheeks on the woman who kneeled down before him to pick up her things.
He smiled behind his mask as he felt his heartbeat quicken, as he felt the gratitude, the all consuming happiness that blossomed in his own chest, and then he felt the love he so instantly felt for you, the need to protect you, to scoop you up and hold you close.
He watched as your breath quickened, how your hand started to shake as you reached out for the folders currently laying spread on the sidewalk, and he smiled as he realized you felt his emotions in real time.
However his own feelings were so overwhelming, he couldn’t feel yours yet. Or maybe they just mirrored his own so perfectly, maybe that was why it felt so all consuming.
He crouched down to meet you, to help you, and that was when you scooped up your things, muttered a small ‘sorry’ before you stood, turned and all but ran from him.
All he could do was look after you, and that was when the nausea and the devastating heartbreak you felt, hit him.
You had never looked at him, you hadn’t felt the pull, and now you thought he felt it towards someone that wasn’t you. Chan wasn’t quite sure if it was your heart or his own that he felt breaking inside of his chest.
As soon as the initial chock had disappeared he chased after you down the street.
Up until that day you had never had a panic attack, but you were pretty sure you were currently having one. It was as if the air itself didn’t bring enough oxygen to your lungs. You had run to the nearest café, so desperate to find somewhere secluded, away from prying eyes.
You had slid your body down a wall in the back. Luckily it didn’t really seem like anyone noticed you, so you had crouched over and buried your head as you finally allowed the tears to roam freely.
You felt his confusion, his own heartbreak. But you managed to push it all away as you for once allowed yourself to wallow in your own self pity. To ignore his emotions and only feel your own.
He had felt love, all consuming love, and it hadn’t been directed at you. You bit down on your tongue in an attempt to stifle the scream that threatened to spill from your lungs.
Then you felt a set of hands on you, almost peeling you from the wall you sat up against. The world around you had gone quiet, and not just because the pumping of your blood was all you could hear, no, the whole café that had been buzzing with life just a few seconds earlier was now completely silent.
You were pulled into an embrace and for once you allowed someone to comfort you as you broke.
“It’s okay, I’m right here” a voice whispered as a hand stroke your hair. You clung to the strangers shirt and it wasn’t before a tear landed on your forehead you realized that whoever this was, they too were crying.
It was a strange enough situation that you managed to pull yourself out of your emotions and finally look at the person comforting you.
Eyes filled with tears met yours. “Hello princess”. The man said the words, as he used his hands to remove your stray hairs from your face.
His eyes were kind, and his smile looked almost nervous. You felt a little panicked, being in another man's arms like this, until you felt the pull towards him. The need for having him even closer, of being near him.
Despite everything inside of you screaming to stay close to him, to breathe him in, you pulled away. It could’ve only been a few minutes since she had felt the love blossom in his chest, and yet here he was, as heartbroken as her, worried, nervous. But still comforting you.
You looked away from him, as you tried to pull away even further, but he only put two fingers beneath your chin and once again forced your eyes to lock with his.
“Don’t you dare let your mind go there. All the feelings you felt from me were feelings towards you. It’s always been you, it will always be you and no one else”
You shook your head in confusion and he let out what could almost be described as a small chuckle. He looked down at his legs that stretched around your body on the floor, currently covered in the coffee you had spilled all over the place not long again.
You let out a gasp. And his smile grew. “There it is,” he said as a single tear escaped his eye.
You flew from where you sat on the floor to his arms that quickly caught you. He didn’t falter, he only pulled you as physically close to him as he could.
The silken sheet that wrapped around the two of you was beaming with a mixture of pride, exhaustion, pure happiness and a love neither of the two of you had ever felt before.
He laughed a little. “Sorry for bumping into you”
“Oh please never apologize for that” You said as you rested a hand on his cheek, he melted into your touch. He was so beautiful, so incredibly put together, hair perfectly in place, styled to absolute perfection.
You cleared your throat, as you tried drying your eyes. “God I’m so sorry, I must look like an absolute mess”
He grabbed your wrists and stopped your fussing as his smile grew. He was absolutely radiant.
“You are utter perfection, princess”
The heat rushed to your face at the nickname, and he laughed. It was so contagious that you too chuckled a little as he pulled you into his chest.
“A car is on it’s way, I’ll make sure to get you cleaned up so you look presentable before work”
He took your hand and pulled you from the floor in a quick and easy motion. His hands found your waist instantly as he pulled you into him.
“Actually I don’t have work today” You said with a small smile.
You had spent the morning giving out resumes as usual, in the hopes of landing an internship somewhere in the city. You had just heard back minutes before the two of you had collided. Hence the victory ice americano.
“Oh yeah? Neither do I” he said as he pulled his jacket off and draped it over your head. You didn’t really question him, but just raised a brow. He had given you a small nod as if to say: Just trust me. So that was exactly what you did.
The streets were filled with noise and the two of you were ushered to the car as voices all around screamed one name: Dino.
When the door to the town car closed behind the two of you, you pulled the jacket from your face, and suddenly you realized exactly who it was that was sitting next to you. You finally realized exactly who your other half was.
“Holy shit” you said in a small voice.
“Sorry about that” He said with an almost embarrassed voice.
“Holy shit!” You almost yelled and he chuckled, but you felt how nervous he was, how the fear crept up on him.
“No - it’s not you, it’s not that there’s a problem with your life, it's just…”
He looked at you with those big eyes, as you felt how he tried to squish the fear and worry down within himself.
You smiled at him, took his hand and took a deep breath. “It’s just… You’re basically my boss”
Confusion colored that silk sheet of his emotions, and then he laughed. So loud, and so genuine that you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
He had taken you back to his apartment, made sure that your name and photo was given to security, and they were informed that you should always be allowed, even if he wasn’t home. It had been pretty smooth sailing from there.
You had told him how you that morning had landed an internship at Hybe, within his crew. He had felt pride at that, at how you had followed your dreams and had succeeded in them without anything to help you, except your own talent. It reminded him of himself.
The two of you had agreed to keep your bond secret for now, none of you wanted to think that this was nepotism or that you had gotten the job through him. Least of all you since you had used blood, sweat and tears to stand up to your parents to get them to allow your career change.
That night you had spent in his bed, first fully clothed, later in the night with absolutely nothing between you. You felt like home here, in his arms, in the darkness of his room when the curtains were drawn.
“I’ve never felt more at home, nor more safe in my entire life” you said as your head rested on his chest, listening to the heartbeat of your lover beneath that incredibly toned chest of his.
He kissed your forehead. “It’ll be my life's mission to always have you feel like this” and you knew he meant what he said. You could feel it.
The next morning Chan had left the comfort of your now shared bed to go and make breakfast. He had texted Joshua in a panic, begging him for his best breakfast recipes, and he had given them. But as soon as the older man had started asking questions, he hung up the phone.
It definitely didn’t look that pretty, but he hoped you could recognize the effort he had put into it.
It was dark when you woke, the curtains were still drawn and the duvet was still warm. You smiled as you reached out an arm to grab onto your other half. But the other side of the bed was cold, as cold as it was every morning when you rolled over and hoped the dreams you had of him were real.
You curled around yourself. Once again hugging your legs, pulling them into your chest, as you felt the loss of him ripple through you.
You were used to this, you were so used to dream of him, and then waking up to once again being alone. But it had felt so real, you had been so sure it was actually him this time.
You heard the crash of a plate somewhere, but chose to ignore it. It wasn't until the lights turned on around you, that you realized it had in fact happened.
He felt your happiness, and smiled to himself. You were awake, and what perfect timing it was. He plated the last few things and walked towards the door.
Then the sadness, the panic and the loss hit him. For a second or two he had been confused until he remembered those stings of sadness and heartbreak he would sometimes feel in the mornings. He knew them too well, he had the same dreams of you more often than he liked to admit.
He dropped the plate, he didn’t even care if it broke, if all of his hard work had been for nothing. He just ran to you.
He turned on the light and pulled the duvet from your warm naked body, and pulled you to him for the second time in less than 24h.
“Princess it wasn’t a dream. I’m right here” He took your head between his hands and looked at you, nodding with you as he kissed away your tears.
You chuckled as a tear slid down your cheek. He felt your embarrassment, and rolled his eyes.
“You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. You hear me?” he squished your cheeks together and kissed your mouth. You laughed as you pushed him away. He only pulled you with him back onto the mattress.
“I think your breakfast is ruined” He said as you nuzzled into his side. You took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I just… I thought it had all been a dream”
He kissed your forehead. “Don’t apologize princess, had the roles been reversed I think I would’ve panicked just the same”
He rolled over you so you were laying flat on your back, him carefully positioned on top of you, to make sure he wouldn’t crush you with his weight.
“Now it’s time for my breakfast” He winked at you before he dived down under the duvet, letting his mouth loose on your body.
He was definitely real.
The days after you met continued much like that first day of yours. The two of you being cooped up in his apartment, getting to know one another and just enjoying each other's mind, body and soul.
When you started at Hybe at first you were a little worried, but luckily for you the two of you were on different floors or other ends of the building most of the time. You got to know the men and women around you, without them being biased towards you.
You had an instant connection with Pink, and it made sense to you when you found out that she was bound to Hoshi, your other half's best friend. Of course the two of you would vibe with one another.
Throughout the last few weeks you had met a few of the guys, and today Seungkwan popped his head into the room that you and Pink were currently occupying. He sent a quick glance your way and you introduced yourself with a smile.
“Practice might run a little late today, so Hoshi sent me to say you could just join us in the practice room when you’re done here”
Pink nodded and thanked him for the information. When the door closed behind him you waited a few seconds before you turned to her.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
She nodded as she packed a few more things down into the giant suitcase she used to carry all her stuff.
“What’s with the flowers?”
Pink froze and slowly turned towards you.
“What?” she had such a serious look on her face you were scared you had said something wrong.
“Th-the flowers that follow Seungkwan everywhere? I was just wondering if-”
You didn’t even get to finish the sentence before you were pulled by your wrist from the room.
Up two floors and down a hall you had never stepped foot on before. Pink opened the door and Chan’s eyes found yours instantly, he had no doubt felt you panic just seconds before, because he had looked like he was just about to run out the door to find you.
The thirteen of them stood up on a line and looked between you and Pink. “She’s one of yours” she gestured towards you.
The boys looked from one to another, and just as Chan was about to step forward and come clean. Vernon took a step, he then proceeded to pinch his chin, and when you didn’t even flinch he muttered a small. “No not mine”
He did a little pout as he muttered a small sorry to the woman who was just walking around getting pinched randomly.
“What food do you crave?” Mingyu said, and much like the maltese he embodied he crooked his head a little to the side.
“B-breakfast” you said as a blush crept up your neck. You couldn’t help it, you looked for him everywhere you went. And there he stood, all nonchalant, with that damn smirk on his lips.
The room erupted with screams and scolds and envy. But he only stepped towards you as he slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you into him. Kissing your neck tenderly.
“Everyone, meet my princess” he said with pride, and you felt your knees give in beneath you.
“Oh that’s disgusting! I’m NOT calling her that” Hoshi said as he walked towards Pink.
“How did you even find out? We’ve been fucking amazing at hiding it these past few weeks” Chan said as he felt your love wash over him.
“She commented on Kwan's flowers” and the room was then a choir of ‘ahhhhhh’s of understanding.
You furrowed your brows at Chan and he just nodded to Seungkwan who took one of your hands.
“Just walk through them,” he said with a gentle smile and a little nod.
And as you did, dark red chrysanthemums blossomed at your feet. You giggled and Chan was there by your side in a second. Plucking you one before gently pulling you into his arms.
“They’re my favorite” you said as you smelled the flower.
✦ as always; please comment, like, share, reblog all of that. It what's keeps me going and keeps me writing. My asks are always open for feedback or if you just wanna give me a little praise
Lee Chan x f!reader
content: fluff, established relationship
- synopsis: surprising chan with breakfast in bed!
A/N: happiest birthday to this cutieee
You wake up before him.
It’s rare. Usually he’s the early riser, already stretching or scrolling through his phone while you pretend to still be asleep. But today, you open your eyes first.
It takes you a second to remember why.
Then you look at him.
Birthday boy.
He’s on his stomach, hair a mess, one arm tucked under the pillow, lips slightly parted. Completely unaware.
You slip out of bed quietly, trying not to wake him. The apartment is still calm, morning light barely peeking through the curtains. You don’t make anything crazy. Just simple breakfast. Toast, eggs, fruit you cut a little too carefully. Coffee the way he likes it.
When you come back in, balancing the tray, he’s still asleep.
You set it down on the nightstand and climb back onto the bed, hovering over him for a second before brushing your fingers through his hair.
“Chan,” you murmur.
He groans immediately, face scrunching. “Five minutes…”
“It’s your birthday.”
One eye opens.
“oh.”
You can literally see the realization hit him. He rolls onto his back and looks at you properly now, still half-asleep but smiling.
“You’re up early,” he says, voice raspy.
“Had to impress you.”
He notices the tray then, eyebrows lifting. “You made this?”
“No, your other your side chick did.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, reaching up to pull you down so you’re half laying on his chest.
“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.
“I wanted to.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you then. Not dramatic. Not overly emotional. Just warm. it’s like he’s memorizing this.
He sits up, wraps the blanket around his waist, and you sit beside him while he eats. He keeps feeding you bites even though you insist it’s for him. Crumbs fall on the sheets. The coffee is a little too sweet and he still drinks it all.
Before finishing, he sets the tray aside and turns to you fully.
“Best part of my birthday,” he says.
“Its 9 am”
“Exactly.”
Then he leans in and kisses you. Slow. Lazy. Still tasting like coffee. But right now?
It’s just him and you in his bed, on his birthday, like you’ve been for years.
pairing: lee chan x reader
genre: mdni, smut, strangers to lovers, tinder au
warnings: a little angst, a reference from the movie “the notebook,” horny! chan, horny! reader, somewhat closed off reader, emotionally unavailable reader?, pervert! chan, a little pining, switch! chan, switch!reader, loser! chan if you squint, sexting?, mentions of sending nudes, a public handjob, blowjob, face fucking, face sitting, pussy eating, begging, penetrative sex with no mentions of using protection
word count: 18.2k
synopsis: love has always felt too risky, too vulnerable, and too terrifying. but when your all too convincing of a best friend signs you up on a dating app against your will — lee chan comes hurtling into your life when you least expect it. he’s charming, funny, and impossible to ignore. you never planned to get roped in this deep, especially not because of someone you met on tinder. but when a casual match turns into something more, some feelings just can’t be ignored no matter how much you try to resist.
sidenote: this is the longest fic i’ve ever written and i just so happened to do it in a little less than three weeks. it’s actually atrocious and i hate it, but we all start somewhere so bare with me. i had to show dino some love !! thank you to @sanaxo-o for being a doll and beta-reading <3 ALSO thank you sm for 3k <3 reminder to interact !!! enjoy :)
When your best friend imposed the idea of needing a way to let out your pent-up stress that had been building from your new job, you thought she would suggest something – you don’t know – maybe normal? Perhaps a spa day or shopping spree would have sufficed, but then again, when has your best friend ever known normal? She was quite far from it, actually.
Your eyes were wide, a sign that you were taken aback as she held up her cell phone. A bright smile stretched across her face, completely differing from the utter look of horror displayed across yours. “Absolutely not,” you shook your head, “No, no, no.”
“Oh come on.” The girl threw her hands up, slightly annoyed by your quick refusal. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
You gave her a tight-lipped smile, hoping it would somewhat appease the attitude she was beginning to form. “Tinder?” Mild disbelief laced your voice. “Really Yunjin? Of all things?”
Your best friend rolled her eyes, picking up her latte and taking a sip of the drink. “Don’t be so close-minded,” She scolded, “What if you end up finding the love of your life?”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you scoffed at her words. “I highly doubt that, considering Tinder is what most people resort to for booty calls…not to find love.”
“Hey,” She glared at you slightly offended, lips formed into a childish pout, “I use Tinder.”
You raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. “And what do you use it for?”
“Well I-,” Yunjin was rendered speechless. She racked her brain for possible excuses, but could not seem to come up with one that would paint the app in a positive light.
“Exactly my point,” You smirked.
Sighing, the girl sitting across from you set her coffee cup down on the table. Her full attention was now on you and she was more than determined to get her point across, no matter how stubborn she knew you could be. “Look,” she started, “I love you and all, but ever since you started working again, you’ve turned into a real bitch.”
“Gee, thanks!” You said, tone heavily laced with sarcasm.
“Now, I’m not saying that you’ve been awfully hard to be around lately, but I do think you need an outlet to let out recent frustrations.”
“Spit it out, Yunjin.” You snapped, growing impatient. It was only after the words left your mouth that you began to gain consciousness of what she meant.
Damn. You really have been a bitch lately.
“What I’m trying to say is….” She trailed off, taking your hands gently in hers as if she was about to break bad news to a little child, “You need to get laid.”
Almost immediately, you pulled away from her touch. Your cheeks slightly bloomed a light shade of red from her blunt words and you wiped your palms off on your jeans when you began to feel them grow clammy. “No I don’t.” You said quickly, glancing around to make sure no one heard her.
“Uhm, yes you do,” She insisted, “You haven’t had an orgasm in ages.”
Narrowing your eyes at her, you suddenly regretted ever telling Yunjin anything that had to do with your sex life. However, unfortunately for you, she’d been your best friend for ages and nothing is ever considered TMI for your friendship.
“Yes I have,” You stated firmly, attempting to defend yourself from her harsh, and much too sexual, accusation.
“One that doesn’t include masturbation,” She sent you a pointed look, less than amused by your claim.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you crossed your arms over your chest defiantly. “Oh fuck off.”
Yunjin smiled to herself, perking up despite your negative attitude towards her. She struck a nerve, that’s for sure, but she also knew that whatever she was on to, she was doing the right thing – or somewhat the right thing. “Great! So you’ll try it.”
“I never said I would try it.”
“Too late!” Fishing out her phone from the back pocket of her pants, she scrolled through the device before turning it towards you. The loading screen for TINDER popped up before it was replaced with the sight of an account. At first, you disregarded it, expecting to see the way her profile had been set up – only, it wasn’t her profile. No. Instead, you were staring right at a photo of yourself, taken on a beach trip last summer in one of your skimpiest bathing suits.
Your jaw clenches as you take in the situation at hand, gaze trailing back up to the girl holding the phone and grinning at you. “I already made you one.”
It’s a Match.
The three words displayed across your phone screen in bold black writing had you squirming in anticipation and slight fear. The anxiousness settled in the pit of your stomach, spreading through your body like a wildfire. Quickly, you shut your phone off, throwing it to the side as you couldn’t, for the life of you, process the reality of your situation.
Your very first TINDER match – well you’d be damned.
Lee Chan, twenty-six, aquarius, 3 miles away.
When you came across the very man while swiping through the dating app that you swore you’d never use, you didn’t expect to find someone as attractive as him – Chan. With a face as charming as his and a body perfectly sculpted, it was all too good to be true.
There was no possible way he wasn’t a catfish.
The loud ding of your phone caught you off guard. The sound had your heart thumping in your chest, and if possible, you’d think the organ was trying to jump out of it. Slowly, you turned your head towards the device lying face down on the mattress before looking away. Your hands formed into fists, doing your ultimate best to resist temptation.
You didn’t need a man. Certainly not now, when your career was just taking off and you’d finally gotten a glimpse into a successful future. But god damn was your best friend right. You needed a good fuck and it had been far too long since you’ve properly gotten laid.
It took approximately three minutes and seventeen seconds for you to cave. Not like you were counting, even if the alarm clock ticking on your nightstand begged to differ.
You jumped from your spot on the bed, scrambling to clutch your phone in your hands. The device fell off the mattress as you moved with such urgency, drawing out a curse from you as it was retrieved from the floor. Hastily, you typed in the passcode, yet again finding yourself staring at the TINDER inbox page as soon as it was unlocked.
At first glance, you thought it was a joke.
You thought it was a joke the same way you’ve recently began to think your entire sex life was a joke.
CHAN: dtf?
The notification flashed across the screen, taking you by surprise. Adjusting your position to sit more upright, your eyes widened at the bold text message.
What the actual fuck.
Your finger hovered over it, mind racing wildly as you opened the text before you could formulate a response. You had half the right mind to call Yunjin and enlist her help in setting something up with this guy. She always knew what to say, and when it came to all sex-related things, it just so happened to be her forte.
“No,” You shook your head, despite being the only person in the room.
You could do this. You’re a big girl, and you sure as hell don’t need anybody’s help when it comes to relationships or men.
Before you could think, your fingers were moving across the keyboard. You hit the send button as soon as you typed out your response, knowing yourself all too well. If it wasn’t then, it would be never.
YOU: yes
A swish sounded from the speakers of your phone, signaling that it had been sent. However, as soon as the words delivered popped up below your message, another text from the man on the other side came through.
CHAN: i was kidding pls don’t swipe on me
CHAN: damn, really?
“Fuck,” You muttered, suddenly regretting ever getting back to him so soon. With how quickly you agreed to it, your spiked confidence at the time had unfortunately led to your embarrassment, completely unbeknownst to the man who caused it.
Going back on your word now would be a pussy move, not to mention, an obvious attempt at saving your dignity. You had no other choice but to own up to it. After all, Chan was the one to suggest it in the first place, even if it had in fact been a hopeless gesture to break the ice.
YOU: a little sex never hurt anybody
CHAN: haha
CHAN: agreed
Your eyes scanned over the chat as you tried to bite down the feeling of shame that was starting to rise.
Sure, you were desperate, but were you really that down bad to rely on a TINDER hookup to satisfy your needs?
It had been far too long since you’ve had an orgasm that wasn’t caused by your own hand, and the last man you slept with left you feeling a hell of a lot more than dissatisfied. It was boring – vanilla, if you must say. You preferred your men with a little more humility than the Alpha Sigma frat boy you’d chosen that particular night.
CHAN: so….
CHAN: when and where should we meet?
His question had you coming back to your senses. You were about to turn twenty-five years old for crying out loud. God forbid, it was time for you to grow up. One night stands, friends with benefits, your much too often used collection of dildos – you just couldn’t be that person anymore.
Where’d this newfound sense of responsibility come from? You had no idea, but you were glad you were finally beginning to think with your brain rather than your pussy.
YOU: not so fast
YOU: you have to take me out on a date first
Chan’s response was quick, and it was shocking how easily he agreed. Most guys who wanted nothing but sex would have gladly unmatched by now and moved on to try with the next.
CHAN: deal
YOU: AND you have to pay
This time, it took a while. You stared at the screen for much longer than you would’ve liked to admit, waiting for his response. Did you just ruin your chance? Maybe. But did you regret telling him to pay? Hell no.
Men used to go to war, and now all they want to do is split the bills.
CHAN: 2pm, sunday, jenni’s ice cream parlour
YOU: what?
CHAN: our date
CHAN: do you need a ride?
You didn’t even notice your mouth was open as you were somewhat taken aback. He’d already scheduled a date with a time and place. Either he’s been in this position far too many times with way too many girls, or his planning skills were a sign from cupid that he was exactly your type.
YOU: no
YOU: what if you’re like a serial killer or something and trying to find out where i live
CHAN: okay first of all, wtf
CHAN: second of all, i can assure you i’m not
YOU: better safe than sorry
YOU: i’ll meet you there
CHAN: great!
CHAN: see you then, pretty girl ;)
You stared at his text, the pet name causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter just a tiny bit. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face and once again you threw your phone on the bed, this time with a squeal of excitement.
It was pathetic, really, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as a rush of giddiness coursed through your veins. Everything about this was so unlike you – from using a dating app to actually deciding to go on the planned date.
Was this really going to work? Were you, of all people, finally going to end up settling down in a relationship?
However as your eyelids fluttered and sleep overtook you that night, there was the slight twinge of recognition that you actually may be thinking with your pussy again instead of your heart.
Sunday came a lot sooner than expected. The skies were a pretty shade of blue, with the sun beaming brightly and heat of the summer season simmering in the air. It was borderline unbearable as you navigated through the streets of downtown, however, there was no denying that it was perfect weather for a cold sweet treat.
You opened the door to the parlour, the calming sound of wind chimes signaling that a new customer had entered the building. Jenni’s was a cute little place, a mom-and-pop ice cream shop that had been open in your city for as long as you could remember. It was small and should have expanded a while ago due to popularity, but that didn’t stop it from becoming a very well-known tourist spot. They had the best soft serve in town and their waffle cones were never stale. In fact, with every bite you could practically taste the love that the workers put into it.
As per usual the shop was crowded, filled to the brim as it typically was over the weekend. Despite the herd of people, your eyes scanned the area to hopefully come across the familiar face in which you were searching for.
Your heart pattered in your chest as you spotted the man towering over the rest as he stood out amongst the flurry of people. He was even more beautiful in person, with a gold chain hanging low around his neck and a black t-shirt clinging to his body, outlining the muscle hidden underneath.
Timidly, you stalked towards him until you stood directly behind his figure. A wave of nervousness washed over you as your hand raised to tap his shoulder gently. His reaction was immediate and before you knew it, he spun around quickly and barreled into you by accident. The action almost knocked you off your feet at the force, but his arms darted out to steady you with his hands settling on your waist.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
You collected yourself, flattening out the creases in your sundress before addressing him. “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced up, shooting a small smile his way. “Hi.”
Now focused on your face instead of panicking about the situation that had just erupted, the man returned the smile. “Hi,” He responded softly, almost breathlessly. The way his eyes pierced your own left you trapped in a trance. For a split second, it was as if time had stopped.
Silence loomed over, making it seem like it was only the two of you that existed in the current moment. You only snapped out of your daze when someone from behind yelled at you guys for not moving up in line. With an apology, you both moved forward, grinning at each other sheepishly in embarrassment.
“Y/n.” He stated.
“Chan.” You said back with a smile, standing next to him as you two waited for your turn in line. “You look even better than the photos,” You joked, hoping to skip over the awkward stage that typically occurs on a first date.
He let out a laugh, one that sounded like music to your ears and almost infectious. “Are you trying to rizz me up?”
“Is it working?” You wiggled your eyebrows, happy that he was playing along.
“Maybe,” He winked at you and this time it was your turn to giggle. However, your laughter died down as fast as it started and you were left wondering where to take the conversation next. It seemed like you didn’t have to think about it for too long as Chan got the hint and took over for you. “So, do you still think I’m a serial killer?”
“Oh god,” You raised your palm to your head, completely forgetting about the small accusation you made towards him earlier in the week. Wincing, you looked at him apologetically, “Sorry about that.”
Chan smiled, obviously amused at your predicament, “Well like you said, better safe than sorry, right?”
“Right,” You agreed with the nod of your head. Although being confronted about it caught you off guard, you would never feel guilty for putting your safety first.
As if somewhat saving you, the girl behind the counter called out for the next person in line. Dropping the topic, the two of you stepped forward together. “What flavor are you getting?” You asked, eyes darting over the various tubs as you also tried making the decision for yourself.
Chan hummed, scanning over the flavors himself, “Probably superman.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him quizzically. “Superman?”
He nodded with a bright smile, repeating the flavor back to the worker so they could begin scooping.
“Like…the one with all the colors?”
Chan shrugged his shoulders, glancing at you, “Yeah.”
Looking at the option he had chosen, you scanned over the bright neon and rainbow ice cream, “Okay…,” You trailed off.
Noticing your somewhat negative attitude peaking through, Chan suddenly perked up at your reaction. “What?”
“Nothing,” You brushed it off with a shrug, “I just think what flavor someone chooses, says a lot about that person.”
“Oh really,” Chan raised an eyebrow, entertained with your words. “Well then, what does superman say about me?”
“Let's see,” You crossed your arms over your chest, mind wandering elsewhere to think about your answer. “Fun,” You give him a once over, gaze trailing down his body and subtly admiring his physique while you’re at it. “Bold,” You state, referring to the first text message he sent you. “A little wild,” You tilt your head, not so sure about that one yourself. “And childish,” You finish off, meeting his eyes once again.
Chan’s jaw was clenched, a clear sign that he was not impressed by your take. “Childish?” He scoffs. He was enjoying everything leaving your mouth up until the very last part. To say it threw him for a loop would be an understatement. “You think I’m childish?” He asks, slight irritation lacing his tone. You could do nothing but smile sheepishly at him as he took personal offense towards your words. “I’m older than you.”
“Only by like a year.”
He took a deep breath in, exhaling loudly to calm his nerves. “Okay then,” He nodded, finally accepting your perspective. His hand reaches out to take his cone from the worker, a giant scoop of the chaotic colored ice cream making it stand out. “It’s your turn now.”
You peered at him skeptically, confused by his sudden change of heart, “My turn for what?”
“Pick a flavor.”
You hummed in amusement, turning back towards the tubs and looking at them once more before smiling at the lady behind the counter. “One scoop of vanilla on a waffle cone please.” As soon as you had chosen, Chan couldn’t help but snort from beside you. The sound had you snapping your head towards him as you wondered what was so funny about your choice. “What?” You asked through gritted teeth.
“Vanilla? Really?”
“I like vanilla,” You stated, “It’s classic. It’s simple. You can never go wrong with it.”
Chan squinted at you, watching as you took the cone from the employee and followed behind him to the register. “Yeah, it’s also plain, boring, and severely overrated.” He pulled out his debit card from his back pocket, paying for the both of you before walking further into the parlour in search of an open seat.
You stayed close on his tracks, trying to keep up with him as he weaved through the crowd. “Okay, but that’s the flavor. What does that have anything to do with me?”
He sighed, glancing back at where you walked behind him. “You’re a perfectionist,” He found a vacant spot and jumped at the chance to secure it as he pulled out a chair for you. “Not fun whatsoever,” He signaled for you to sit down and you did so with a huff, refusing to quit glaring at him. “You’re afraid to take risks, and you’re secretly judgemental.”
Your jaw dropped. Sure, you could’ve avoided calling him childish, but you didn’t think he would be so harsh with you. Seriously, you had only just met this guy and you already had the urge to walk out on him.
Who does he think he is?
You opened your mouth to bite back an insult on the tip of your tongue, but before you could get it out, he took the seat across from you and continued to speak. “So, I guess the real question is –,” He paid you no mind as you narrowed your eyes at him, “What’s a girl like you doing on Tinder?”
The unexpected interrogation left you puzzled. You were typically good when it came to quick thinking and formulating witty responses, so why does nothing come to mind whenever he poses a question?
You stuttered, trying to think of something to respond. Chan leaned back, taking a bite of his cone as he smirked at you. Scowling, you stared daggers into the man in front of you. “Forget about me,” You raise your chin to exude confidence, “What about you huh? Why are you on Tinder?”
Unfortunately, Chan didn’t exactly feel threatened nor put on the spot like you had been when he asked. “Did my text not make it obvious?”
Wow, this man really had no shame.
You rolled your eyes, remembering very well what he was recalling. “Yeah, you also said you were kidding to save your ass.”
“Between you and me,” Chan leaned in closer over the table, teasing you as he spoke in a playfully hushed tone, “I really wasn’t.” He winked, and to say it didn’t have you feeling mildly turned on would be a lie. You squirmed in your seat, adjusting to grow accustomed to the sticky feeling beginning to spread between your thighs.
Over the past six days leading up to this date, you have gotten to know Chan very well. He was a passionate guy who wore his heart on his sleeve and spoke his mind no matter the consequences. He had a slick mouth, much to your dismay, and a very flirtatious personality which you figured out through all the dirty jokes he would slip into a casual conversation.
When it comes to getting to know you however – Chan didn’t have much luck in that area. You were the complete opposite of him, a tough cookie with walls that were disappointingly difficult to break through.
Shaking your head, you looked back down at your cone in annoyance. Noticing the ice cream that had dripped onto your hand, you innocently licked the crevice between your thumb and pointer finger to clean it up. Chan’s attention diverted from your face to your tongue, watching very intently as you did so. You were fast to pick up on it, becoming aware of the way his fun and flirty expression dropped and his adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat.
With a slight smirk, you repeated the action, except this time, you concentrated on the actual scoop of ice cream. “Mhmm,” You moaned seductively, eyes rolling to wordlessly convey how delicious it tasted despite it being exaggerated. If you could see yourself right now, you would probably laugh or curl up from humiliation, but Chan’s keen fixation on your movements had spiked your confidence levels tremendously. “So good.”
Chan made a sound in acknowledgment, not trusting his voice as he was still unable to tear his vision away from you licking at the dessert. He watched as your tongue twirled, almost professionally around the scoop, collecting the white cream on your tastebuds and swallowing. His cock twitched in his pants and he shuffled in an attempt to hide his now growing boner, the view of you in front of him giving leeway for his mind to conjure up something a little more – lewd. He was dirty minded, that was for sure.
He thought that getting ice cream on a first date was an easy way to play it safe, but maybe it wasn’t after all. At least not with you.
Ever since he stumbled across your profile on TINDER, your picture popping up of you in a bikini that left little to the imagination, Chan knew he had to get you all to himself. He almost coiled in excitement when the screen stating you two had matched flashed across his screen. Without thinking much, he was sending the very text message that started it all, and needless to say, it worked out in his favor. Atlas, here you were, sitting right across from him licking at an ice cream cone and moaning, even though it wasn’t because of him.
He was already one step ahead.
Realizing the way his eyes zoned in on you, specifically the way you glided your tongue around your vanilla flavored ice cream, you suppressed a giggle. “Is something wrong?” You asked innocently, perking up. Leaning forward to express concern, you propped both elbows up on the table, causing the subtle action to accentuate your cleavage in the dress you were wearing.
Chan trailed his gaze down to your chest before quickly darting his eyes back up to your face. He swallowed hard, shifting in his seat. “No,” He shook his head, taking another bite of his cone as he finally turned his attention towards anything but you, “Nothing wrong.”
You nodded, taking another lick of your sweet treat, more than happy that you had a much stronger effect on him than you thought. Needless to say, for the rest of the date, Chan was quite distracted from both you and the massive hard-on growing in his pants.
Men were too easy.
Surprisingly enough, despite the constant back and forth banter that occurred at Jenni’s parlour, it had been pushing a little over a week since and you still found yourself texting Chan a little more than you’d like to admit.
He was starting to break you out of your habits slowly, one of them being your early bedtime. You were always the type of girl to hit the sack before eleven p.m, especially since you were expected to be at your job way before noon. But ever since you’d met the man, staying up late became your new normal.
Like right now, curled up between the sheets comfortably at two a.m although your brain was telling you that you needed to go to sleep. Somehow, at the parlour, Chan convinced you to swap numbers with him and just as you were about to put your phone down to call it a night, a ding sounded from the device.
CHAN: you up?
YOU: ???
YOU: yeah
CHAN: send nudes ?¿
It was meant as a joke, really. The past two, almost three weeks, you’ve grown quite accustomed to his constant use of dirty jokes and references. But to you, this was a perfect opportunity to prove him wrong about the first assumption he made about you. It still sat on your mind, bothering you a lot more than it probably should.
You were anything but vanilla.
Giving it some time to think over, you bit your lip before glancing at the mirror across your bedroom. Hastily, you sat up to turn on the lamp and illuminate the space with a warm yellow glow. Throwing off the comforter, you swung your feet over the bed to stand up. Not thinking twice, you pulled off your thin tank top, pants following soon after. Without delay, your nipples hardened into buds in the cold air and you decided to ignore the growing goosebumps forming on your skin.
You paused, wondering to what extent you were willing to take this, but quite frankly, fuck it – it was your turn to be bold.
You slide your panties down, stepping out of them and tossing the fabric over to the side. Grabbing your phone, you stalked over to the mirror with a smile. If there was anything you learned about Chan so far, it was that he was one horny motherfucker. Two a.m be damned, he was desperate enough to take what you give him regardless of time and place.
You held your phone up, glancing at yourself through the camera. You used the device to hide your face and brought your other hand up to place on your bicep, your arm effectively covering your nipples, yet still allowing the underside of your round plump tits to be seen. Your hip jutted out to angle your body in a more flattering way, crossing your legs over while you were at it because nudes or not – if he wanted to see what was between them, then he would have to do it in person.
You snapped the photo once you were satisfied with your position, taking a few more just for safe measures. Moving back to your bed, you settled under the covers without even bothering to get dressed. Instead you were too focused on swiping through the pictures. You picked your favorite one and quite unlike you, without any hesitance, you hit send.
Biting your nails, a habit you often did in anticipation, you watched as the bubbles on your screen popped up to notify you that he was typing.
CHAN: holy fucking shit
CHAN: excuse me while i go fuck my fist 😃
To be honest, with humor like his, you didn’t know if he was serious or not. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if he actually was, especially since he would be getting himself off to a photo of you.
YOU: lmaooo, you’re excused 🤭
YOU: make sure you add me to your spank bank ;)
Typically Chan was fast, often having a text message ready to go by the time yours goes through. This time however, it took a lot longer than usual to get back to you.
Your eyebrows knot together, wondering if what he said was true and if he was in fact jerking off to you. Giving him a few minutes, you glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand as you wait. Doing the mental math, you would only get a short few hours of sleep in before you had to wake up for work. Sighing, you decided it was time to wrap it up before you got a little too carried away and ended up pulling an all-nighter instead.
YOU: …..hello???
Again, your text was left on delivered and you figured that he was rather… busy. Chuckling to yourself, you went to turn your phone off, but before you could, you noticed your messages were now marked as read. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you waited for what he had to say and you couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face as your eyes scanned over his words.
CHAN: i think we should go on another date
In any other instance, you would’ve scolded yourself for giggling like a teenager slowly falling head over heels. But Chan brought out a side of you that even you didn’t know existed.
YOU: i think so too
Ever since you met Chan, you’ve come to notice that time seemed to move rather fast.
Somewhere between the constant late nights spent texting each other and the days in which you two planned to meet later in the afternoon – you were now nearing two months since matching with him on TINDER.
Safe to say, date two went a lot better than planned – if you didn’t count the fact that Chan paid more attention to your tits as opposed to you.
The push-up bra you decided to wear that day had done its job perfectly. Not only did it turn your B cups into a C, but it also accentuated the curve of your breasts, making them look plump.
“My eyes are up here,” You told him with a pointed look. Chan hummed with a nod but didn’t bother to tear his gaze away or even look mildly ashamed of himself. The only thing on his mind was nuzzling his face between them.
Though, who were you to judge?
Later that night, after you both parted ways and agreed on seeing each other again sometime that week, you sent him a surprise in the form of a photo message. This time, unlike the first, you weren’t trying to cover anything, and the view Chan was pathetically trying to see under the top at the cafe earlier, was on clear display for him.
You were stunned. Initially, you were certain that all you were looking for was a good fuck and you would be on your way, but there was just something about Lee Chan that had you completely captivated.
What was it, is the question.
By the time your third date came around, you realized just how much Chan seemed to love your ass. To say it was a shocker would be a lie considering the reason he most likely swiped right on your TINDER profile was because of the thin bathing suit you were wearing in your photo.
On that exact day, he had chosen the beach on purpose, and in return, you showed up in bikini bottoms that were far too small just to get a rise out of him. You strutted around shamelessly, and he couldn’t resist eyeing the way your ass jiggled and bounced from behind. He thought he was going to die of blue balls when you asked him to rub sunscreen on your back, and even more so as you requested for him to take it a little further down your backside so you would avoid getting burnt.
Suddenly, the Chan you initially met – the one that always had a slick mouth and never shied away from sexual innuendos, was poof – gone.
Honestly, as much as you’ve taken a liking to playing a game of seeing just how flustered you could make him, the fourth date was when you decided that enough was enough.
The past few days left you more than horny. From the constant lewd photos you would send him that would only get dirtier the longer you two talked to each other, and the fact that he hadn’t exactly made a move on you yet despite consistently talking a big game – your vibrator just hadn’t been doing its job lately. It was frustrating, to say the least, and your body was yearning for something a little more – real.
The restaurant, a location that you had the hand of picking for the night, was dimly lit. The warm glow of a candlelight flickered between your bodies, casting soft subtle shadows on your faces. It was a change of scenery from the casual dates you two had been on and it did its deed in fulfilling the sensual intimate atmosphere you’d been craving as of recently.
You’d taken your sweet time to get ready, picking out a dress that hugged every curve of your body and a bold red lip to match with the shade of fabric. Your heels, though somewhat uncomfortable, assisted with boosting your confidence, and with every step you took, it only grew more. You looked the best you’ve had in months and to think all this was to meet up with a man.
Chan picked you up at the exact time on the dot, jaw nearly dropping when you walked out the elevator of your apartment complex. He was rendered speechless, but unlike usual, there was a feeling of something other than the typical horniness brewing inside of him. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.
The gentleman side of him was something you hadn’t seen before; at least since you first met him. Throughout the night, he opened every door and showered you with compliments, but as you sat across from him, you couldn’t help but notice that his attention was beginning to drift elsewhere.
Chan tried his best to focus on what you were saying, he really did, but as regular, your tits distracted him, and the red lip you had opted for instead of your typical clear gloss, had an effect on him more than he’d prefer to acknowledge.
You huffed, eyebrows knitting together in pure annoyance, “Are you even listening to me?”
Chan’s eyes slightly widened as he was caught red-handed. You looked as if you were ready to bite his head off and he knew then that he had to tread carefully. Upon taking too long to respond, you got up from your spot and threw the cloth napkin down on the table. Hastily, you picked up your purse and shot him a glare, “I’ll be right back,” You muttered, before turning on your heels and heading straight for the restroom.
Even as you walked away, heels clicking angrily, Chan couldn’t help but stare at the way your dress made your ass stand out as you sashayed further from him.
He was doomed.
Finally, away from him and in an enclosed space, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror as your emotions whirled inside of you – anger, frustration, and a little bit of lust too. You were sure that if you mentioned it, Chan would surely take the hint. But proper communication was a skill that you sadly lacked.
Fixing your lipstick and poofing your hair, you admired your reflection before nodding to yourself. If plan A and plan B didn’t work out (not like there was one anyway), that just meant it was time for plan C.
Time to strike.
You strutted out of the bathroom, right back to the table you were once sitting at with your date. This time, instead of sitting across from him, you made yourself comfortable in the booth right next to him. He noted the change of seating from the corner of his eye but had no time to comment on it before a waiter showed up ready to take orders back to the kitchen.
Chan was oblivious at first, not thinking anything of it when you rested your hand gently on his knee. He continued his conversation with the waiter, asking for the specials and recommendations of what to order. Your hand lingered, slowly trailing your acrylic nails against his pants as you inched it further and further up his knee. Again, he didn’t mention the gesture, most likely thinking it was just a way of showing your affection. It wasn’t until the waiter turned their attention towards you that you figured the perfect opportunity was granted.
Without missing a beat, you asked the same questions Chan had, trying to find out which dish was precisely suited for your tastebuds. You smiled as the employee listed the options, your grin only growing wider when you saw Chan’s eyes widening from your peripheral vision when you grazed your palm over the bulge in his dress pants. Your fingers played with the zipper, casually brushing against the obvious tent beginning to grow and Chan could only be grateful that the tablecloth was covering it from the waiter’s view as he uncomfortably cleared his throat.
You held your composure quite well, caressing him softly through the fabric; and dare Chan say he was crazy to wish the layer of clothing wasn’t there in the first place.
“That sounds great!” You tell the waiter, turning to look at the man next to you. “Doesn’t it, baby?” You ask, pet name taking him by surprise almost as much as when you undid his zipper.
Chan swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tried to hide his shock. “U-uhm…yeah, great,” He managed to say, maintaining eye contact. You looked so innocent, smiling at him as if your hand wasn’t currently sneaking its way down his pants. Your fingertips glided against his pelvis, sending goosebumps all over his skin. And finally, the moment you both have been waiting for – you gripped him firmly, feeling his cock twitch in your hold.
“Will that be all?” The waiter asked.
You nodded, thanking him before he looked at Chan patiently for an answer. He went to speak, but instead, his knee shot up, causing the table to shake at the same exact time you slid your thumb over the slit of his tip.
“Oh my,” You express with worry. Chan avoids the urge to scoff at your faux sympathy, fully aware of your mocking tone. “Is something wrong?”
He sends you a tight-lipped smile, nodding at you before doing the same to the waiter who finally walks off after being content with the answer he received. You kept your eyes on his back, but not for long as you could feel the way Chan was peering into the side of your face. You turn to meet his gaze, sending him the most naive look you could muster while your hand worked slowly up and down his cock.
“What?” You asked, lashes fluttering with a confused expression.
“Bold.” He stated through gritted teeth.
You smirked, bringing the same hand you were using on him up to your face, acting as if you were covering your mouth to laugh. Instead, you gathered enough saliva in your mouth and held eye contact with him as you spit in your palm and returned it back to where it was under the table. Chan sucked in a shuddered breath, the spit making it easier for your hand to glide and work him up to a high in record time. As pathetic as it was, it took him all but three minutes and a few dirty words whispered into his ear before he was cumming all over your hand.
You raised both eyebrows in amusement, enjoying the flush look on his face post-orgasm. “Not so vanilla now, am I?”
And so it began – the constant cycle of Chan between your legs and in return, you on your knees for him. However, as much as you enjoyed his fingers and his tongue, it was never him inside of you.
He was driving you crazy.
The fifth official date was when you finally concluded that it was time to put your foot down, your sexual frustration getting the best of you.
Much like the first time, Jenni’s ice cream parlour was packed to the brim yet again. Chan suggested the location when you gave him the option of choosing, saying that it would be adorable to take a visit back to where it all started.
Started what, exactly? You have no clue, but there was no denying that over the past couple of months, something was lingering in the air between the two of you.
Perhaps, love?
No. It was too soon… you think.
“I bet I can guess what flavor you’re going to get.”
Chan’s words cause you to let out a small laugh. You raise your sunglasses to your head, shooting him an amused look. “Really?”
He nods, a smirk growing on his face as if he’s got you all figured out. “Really.” He confirms, voice unwavering in confidence.
“Okay,” You urge him to continue, “What is it then?”
“Vanilla.”
Your tongue prods at your cheek in mild annoyance. You send him a tight-lipped smile, doing your best to hide your irritation. Vanilla was your go-to, it always has been and you always thought it would be; however, ever since you met Chan, you’ve learned to step out of your comfort zone more often. Change has never really been your thing, but you were growing more accustomed to your routine shifting the longer you spent with him.
Not giving you enough time to say anything back, not like you were so sure that was a good idea given your attitude, an employee greeted the both of you. She smiled, going over all the options available before asking what flavor you wanted.
You could feel Chan’s eyes on you, expectantly waiting for you to choose what you’d usually go for. Your jaw clenched, not sparing him a glance as you smiled back at the staff behind the counter.
“Superman.”
Chan’s eyebrows shot up and he stammered over his words in surprise, “Superman?”
You hum, still refusing to look at him as the lady hands you the cone. You silently grimace at the arrangement of colors, but nevertheless, aren’t too disheartened by your change of ice cream flavor. It was time to try something different, even if it included vibrant colored food dye. Licking the scoop of ice cream, you turned to the man next to you.
Chan stares at you for a short while, still in shock, but quickly composes himself as his lips twitch into a small smile – almost as if he’s proud. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Expect the unexpected,” You wink at him playfully.
He shakes his head, laughing to himself before slowly looking at the lady waiting for him to order. “I’ll take vanilla please.”
You almost scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. He looks at you teasingly, smirking at your reaction. “What?” He asks. “I thought we were exchanging orders.”
You don’t say anything, instead watching as he takes his own ice cream cone and walks over to the register. You follow behind him, a little ticked off, but still appreciative when he once again, like he has every other time, pays for the both of you.
You take the lead, walking over to the same booth you two secured on the first date. The family previously occupying it left just in time for the seats to become vacant despite multiple other customers looking for a place to sit as well.
Just as you got comfortable on the padded cushion, Chan backtracked as he watched you lick your ice cream, this time the color on your tongue being a mix of red and blue instead of white. He cursed under his breath, swiftly turning around and walking away. You watched confused, but everything clicked into place as he returned with a wad of napkins. Sending him a knowing smile, you huff out a laugh, knowing all too well how much the little drops of melted ice cream on your hand affected him during date number one.
“I’m playing it safe,” He mumbled, finally sliding into the booth.
Conversation flowed easily, kept mostly casual with undercurrents of teasing and sexual flirtations that neither of you fully addressed. With each passing minute, you subtly noticed Chan inching closer and closer. Whether he was doing it subconsciously or not, you had no idea but chose not to mention it.
You take another slow lick of your dessert, tongue swiping along the edge of the cone as your eyes flicked up to meet Chan’s. The sentence he was in the middle of saying catches in his throat and although soft, you can hear his breathing quicken. His gaze is glued to your mouth and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, cheeks darkening in the slightest bit. You watch him confused, scanning over this new flustered state of his.
That’s when you notice it.
The tablecloth he was using to help provide a barrier of cover, did very little to shield the obvious tent in his pants. It was different from just a regular bulge in jeans too tight. In fact his jeans fit him perfectly, he just had a massive raging hard-on at the very moment.
“Chan,” You say his name, trying to capture his attention. It does nothing as he avoids confrontation, almost as if he is ignoring you entirely. “Chan,” You try again, more persistently, “Will you just look at me?”
He shakes his head no, just like a stubborn toddler would. You sigh heavily in both frustration and annoyance. The tension in the air is thick, only growing more suffocating the longer Chan refuses to meet your eyes. You grit your teeth together, feeling your heart hammer in your chest, except instead of it being from infatuation as per usual, this time it’s from anger.
You throw your cone down on the napkins in front of you and aggressively get up from your seat. It’s only then that his head snaps towards your figure with widened eyes, a hint of fear lingering behind them. He opens his mouth to finally speak, but it’s already too late; you’re halfway across the parlour and heading straight for the door by the time he musters the courage. You can’t find it in you to care, already too wound up and tired of the ridiculous push-and-pull dynamic that only seems to go nowhere every time things get close to tipping over.
You storm out of the building, not bothering to stop despite the constant calling of your name from him. Chan follows hot on your trail, completely oblivious and wondering what on earth he’d done wrong to piss you off to this extent.
He moves fast to unlock the door of his car as he sees you approaching the vehicle, wanting to refrain from pissing you off any further than he already has. You slam his passenger door shut as you get in, the aggressive sound causing him to flinch. Cautiously, he slides into the driver’s seat, taking a short glance at you. He quickly observes the way your jaw ticks and arms are crossed as you stare out the window, and he decides that maybe now is not the best time to address whatever elephant it is that’s in the room.
“Take me home.”
Your words cut through the air like a knife. Immediately Chan starts up his car, pulling out of the parking space and navigating through the streets. He opted out of the use of a GPS, and you were thankful that he seemed to know the route back to your place by heart, making it easier to not talk to him as he didn’t need your assistance.
He knows he shouldn’t speak and he most certainly knows that he’s on thin ice, but it’s already too late and the words are leaving his mouth before he can even register. “You seem pissed.”
You release a shudder of breath, swallowing hard as you resist the urge to scream. “No shit,” You say, voice laced with venom.
He shuts up immediately, grip on the steering wheel tightening as he takes a turn and pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex. Before he can even park, you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt and grasping at the handle. He changes the gears, rushing to unlock the doors before you can unleash your wrath on him any further. As soon as he does so, you’re out of the vehicle and storming straight for the entrance of your building.
Chan sits in his car for a minute, watching as you strut off angrily. It takes him a second to process everything, but as soon as he does, he’s taking action.
He grabs at his handle, yanking the door ajar and stumbling over his own two feet as he gets out. He calls your name as he struggles to catch up, but you decide he’s not worthy of your attention as you ignore him entirely. He looks utterly pathetic, trailing after you like an abandoned puppy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
If only a second shorter, the elevator doors would’ve closed directly in his face, but his arm darts out just in time to catch it. He stumbles into the enclosed space just as you click your floor and you don’t bother to say anything. Instead, you stare at the electric indicator, watching as the number rises with each level the elevator moves up. Chan takes a spot in the corner farthest from you, yet you can feel his eyes peering into the side of your face and hear his foot tapping nervously.
A ding rings out and the doors open on the seventeenth floor. You step out of the small space, enjoying the breath of fresh air from the suffocating silence that once consumed you. Chan lingers, but as soon as you start moving in the direction of your living space, he’s not too far behind. The questions tumble out rapidly, and he follows you all the way to your apartment, pleading for you to tell him what’s wrong.
“For fucksake, will you shut up already?” You don’t spare him a glance as you fumble with your keys.
“No,” He states stubbornly, “Not until you tell me what I did wrong.”
You roll your eyes, the lock to your apartment clicking as it finally grants you access. You look back at him with bitterness, hand resting on the doorknob. “You really are an idiot,” You say as you take in the desperation written all over his features. Your words come out more as a statement, as if they were a note to yourself instead of an insult said straight to his face. Still, Chan takes offense.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, completely oblivious. “You’re mad at me because I’m an idiot?”
You straighten up, turning your body around to face him. A sigh falls from your lips as you shake your head, “It’s been nearly five months Chan,” Your hand moves to hold the number up, “Five,” You repeat exasperatedly.
He looks at you puzzled, mouth opening yet not saying anything as he struggles to process the meaning behind your reasoning. “Okay…” He says slowly, “What does that have to do with anything?”
You throw your arm down, even more frustrated than before as it was obvious he didn’t get the point. “All that time and we still haven’t done anything yet,” You say, hoping to clear things up.
Much to your dismay, his eyebrows only furrow. “We’ve done plenty of things,” He states.
You don’t have to ask to know that he’s talking about the countless times your dates have become handsy.
You massage your temples, stress building with every argument he makes to your claims. “Yes, but I need more,” Your tone is daring and you look at him with a yearning that he’s never quite seen from you before.
Your pupils were dilated, gaze being so intense that it almost caused him to look away. It leaves his mouth dry as he struggles to mutter a soft, “Oh” in final realization.
It’s as if all the stars in the night sky finally align when you see the exact moment he puts all the pieces together. “Oh.” You repeat back to him, the word being a final confirmation and all that he needed to know to affirm he was on the right track of figuring you out.
A beat passes and for the first time since he’s met you, Chan uses it to survey you – actually take you in for more than what he saw you as.
Sure your face was beautiful and body damn near perfect, but if he takes a closer look, he can notice the tension in your shoulders and the way your fingers always fidget.
He wonders how he missed it before, the evident sexual frustration that you’ve had since day one that he knew needed more to cure. He hadn’t thought about it, no, he’d looked right past it, putting off his own desires as he formed an opinion of you for more than what he saw you as.
Hair, face, tits, and ass be damned. That’s only the surface level of you. What was easily displayed on a platter for him. But if you asked him to explain anything about you, from thoughts to interests to what makes you the happiest girl in the world – he could easily write an entire book.
Chan’s not exactly sure what this feeling is, but what he does know is that it’s been there for a while and it’s something that starts with an L and ends with an E.
“How long is it going to take for you to finally fuck me?” You breathe out, eyes staring deep into his with a look etched on your face that silently screams for a sense of intimacy.
That was all it took, a simple question and he’s automatically leaning in to kiss you like his life depended on it – like you were the air he needed to breathe in order to survive. Your lips meet his with just as much fervor, kissing him back with a burning passion. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer to you as your hands entangle in his hair.
Chan doesn’t take his sweet time, he’s passionate and heated all at once. For a second he wonders why he hasn’t done this before. How on earth was this the very first time he’s ever kissed you? But to a certain extent, he understands. You’re intoxicating, and now that he’s had a little taste, he's not sure he can ever let you go.
Pulling away isn’t an option, not like you could fathom the idea of being apart. You think you could stay like this forever – his lips on yours till the end of time.
Your back hits the door with a thud and Chan places his hand behind your head to break the impact. His fingers thread through your strands of hair, forcing a soft moan out of you and he jumps at the chance. You hum in content as your tongues dance together in perfect harmony, exploring each other’s mouths like they’ve belonged there the entire time.
Not bothering to break apart, your hand darts out behind you to clumsily find the doorknob and Chan follows your mouth as you lean back, not wanting to part ways just yet. Once found, you jiggle at it, opening the door before finally, and quite sadly, pulling away from the kiss.
That was the first time you invited Chan into your apartment – your home and what has come to be known as your ultimate safe place turned filthy after a hot and steamy night with the man you’ve been waiting to have all to yourself in bed.
“You –,” The expression etched onto Yunjin’s face is borderline comical as she nearly chokes on her drink. She puts the mimosa glass back on the table, looking around to make sure no one is listening before leaning in and whispering, “Dommed?”
You roll your eyes at your best friend’s dramatics, “Yes.”
“Holy shit,” Yunjin leans back in her chair, brunch completely forgotten about as she stares at you in awe. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“There’s just something about him,” You mumble, taking a bite of your french toast, “He brings out a side of me I never really knew was there.”
Yunjin hums, fully examining you as if a science project is on display. She crosses her arms over her chest with a devilish smirk. “No way,” She giggles, “You have a mommy kink.”
Immediately, you stop chewing to look at her unimpressed. “No I don’t,” You deadpan.
“What’s next? Gonna peg him?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You snap, sending her a pointed look.
Her arms shoot up in surrender as she laughs, her intent on provoking a reaction out of you being successful. She quiets down when she realizes you’re not half as amused as she is, and it causes her to fully address the situation as it is.
This was more serious than she thought – than you thought.
“My god. You really do like this dude, don’t you?”
It’s a question asked innocently, and one that means no harm, but still it causes you to tense up. Suddenly, your walls are rebuilding themselves, and best friend be damned, you oh so badly wanted to freeze her out at the very moment.
“What makes you say that?” You shrug dismissively.
Yunjin scoffs, knowing what you were trying to do. All those years spent together, you would be damn stupid to think she doesn’t catch on to your habits of shutting people out. You’ve always hated talking about deep emotional connections, let alone forming one and it was the main reason as to why you’ve never had a boyfriend all throughout both high school and college.
As your best friend, it’s her rightful duty to – how should she put this nicely – slap talk some damn sense into you.
“Y/n,” She states firmly, raising a stern eyebrow, much like your mother did when you were younger. “You can’t keep on doing this.”
“Doing what?” You play coy, “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re avoiding your feelings.”
You let out a gasp, hand clutched over your chest as you pretend to take the accusation personally. “Am not!”
Yunjin grumbles in annoyance and shoots you a glare. “Y/n, we’re not kids anymore. We’re full grown adults and god forbid, you like someone. So what? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”
You take in her mini pep talk, yet it does nothing to affect your stance. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
She lets out a sound of dissatisfaction, knowing better than to trust your words. “Keep this up any longer and you’ll end up like one of those old and lonely cat ladies.”
“I like cats.”
“That’s not my point!” She bites back, and although she’s currently looking at you like she wants your head on a stick – you also know, she just wants what’s best for you.
You sigh heavily, throat constricting as you nod in defeat. “I’m scared.” You manage to say, voice so soft that she almost misses your confession. “I’m scared and you’re right, I do like him – at least, I think I do.”
“You do,” Yunjin confirms for you, “Maybe even a little bit more than like.”
You know what she’s trying to entail, but instead of dwelling on it, you choose to take it one step at a time.
You like Lee Chan.
You bring your hands up to bury your face in them, wincing at the thought. “I should’ve swiped left on him,” You groan.
Yunjin smiles, content and slightly proud that you’ve finally begun to accept your feelings for what they are. “Swiper no swiping.”
It’s been four days.
Four days, and Chan thinks he has a reason to justify going insane.
No calls, no texts, no signs that you’re even alive – absolutely nothing.
He waits with as much patience as he can muster, phone clutched tightly as he stares down at the screen. It takes a few minutes before he sighs and tucks the device away into his back pocket.
Chan wasn’t as naive as you made him out to be. He was smart and clever, but when it came to all things regarding you, it threw him for an impossible loop. However, even now, he could make out that you were ignoring him.
Sometimes you slip up. He was hard to forget about, and more so harder to resist whenever his contact would pop up here and there. At first, it was easy to swipe up on the notification. But as the days rolled by and felt longer than before, trying not to miss him wasn’t an option anymore.
Read receipts will forever be the bane of your existence.
— MONDAY, day one
2:08 pm (delivered)
CHAN: hey, i know you’re at work rn, but wanna go on a date this weekend?
CHAN: the carnival is coming back to town and i think it would be fun yk
4:36 pm (delivered)
CHAN: just lmk
6:45 pm (delivered)
CHAN: how was work?
8:15 pm (delivered)
CHAN: y/n?
CHAN: if you don’t answer i’m gonna take your silence as a yes lmao
10:23 pm (delivered)
CHAN: rough day?
CHAN: that’s fine, we can just talk more about it tmr and make plans
CHAN: goodnight
— TUESDAY, day two
7:00 am (delivered)
CHAN: morning
CHAN: have a good day, i’ll txt you later
10:56 am (delivered)
CHAN: wanna get lunch together on your break?
11:02 am (delivered)
CHAN: hellooooo ????
CHAN: i’m free around the same time you’re supposed to take your break so lmk
12:35 pm (delivered)
CHAN: or i can pick something up and bring it to you
CHAN: i know you like that one little sandwich spot downtown with the freshly baked sourdough
1:15 pm (delivered)
CHAN: so i guess that’s a no then ?
6:30 pm (delivered)
CHAN: y/n
CHAN: am i just texting myself
8:32 pm (delivered)
CHAN: alright i’ll just go fuck myself then 😃
CHAN: KIDDING
CHAN: ….maybe
11:56 pm (delivered)
CHAN: night
— WEDNESDAY, day three
9:08 am (read)
CHAN: is today the day you’re finally going to hmm idk TEXT ME BACK
11:47 am (delivered)
CHAN: guess not
1:23 pm (read)
CHAN: y/n, you’re killing me here
CHAN: did i do something wrong?
6:17 pm (delivered)
CHAN: y/n
10:13 pm (read)
CHAN: are you ignoring me?
12:01 am (delivered)
CHAN: gn
— THURSDAY, day four
1:04 pm (read)
CHAN: hey
CHAN: i don’t know what i did to piss you off and make you ignore me, but i just wanted to let you know that i’m sorry
7:38 pm (delivered)
CHAN: okay, your silence is making me become borderline psychotic
CHAN: i think i’m losing it
8:15 pm (delivered)
CHAN: they’re setting up the carnival, i can see the ferris wheel from the highway
CHAN: i used to ride it all the time when i was a kid
CHAN: call me lame or whatever, but it was lowkey my favorite
10:52 pm (read)
CHAN: say something
CHAN: anything, please
11:14 pm (read)
CHAN: are you starting to regret things?
12:54 am (read)
CHAN: whatever
— FRIDAY, day four
7:15 am (delivered)
CHAN: you know what?
CHAN: yeah i’m not gonna let this happen
10:14 am (delivered)
CHAN: text me back
1:37 pm (delivered)
CHAN: y/n i’m not kidding
CHAN: text me back
2:37 pm (delivered)
CHAN: last chance
2:45 pm (delivered)
CHAN: okay then
CHAN: call me crazy idc
3:15 pm (delivered)
CHAN: fuck it
Chan thinks this is a stupid idea – Chan knows this is a stupid idea.
Showing up to your workplace might be pushing boundaries, but over the past four days, now going on five, he can’t find it within himself to care.
Fridays were always your favorite day of the week. The office was always a buzz, food was supplied by your company, and you got to get off your shift three hours earlier. However, now, as the clock struck 3:40, the usual time in which you would be clocking out, you still sat in your chair. Your desk was a mess, scattered with papers and loose staples.
Sighing, you look at your planner sitting on the edge. Out of the multiple tasks written on your to-do list, only a few were actually checked off and there was so much more to complete.
The endless nights of no sleep were catching up to you. At first, you tried to go to bed early, but it was a hopeless attempt with the constant dinging from your phone. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to mute Chan’s incoming messages. When you did catch yourself dozing off, the bed felt too empty, despite never having anyone spend the night before.
How is it possible to miss something that was never there in the first place?
“Hey, what are you still doing here?” Your co-worker asks as she’s heading out. She glances at you curiously as she adjusts the bag strap on her shoulder.
You smile, although it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thought I should stay a little while.”
Gesturing to the array of paperwork in front of you, she seems to understand where you’re coming from. The sympathetic expression on her face makes your stomach turn, and you know she doesn’t approve of your choice to stay back.
“Okay, well don’t be too long,” She nods, looking you over from head to toe, “Also, make sure you go home and get some sleep.”
She says it in the best interest, but that doesn’t stop annoyance from spiking within. Your shoulders tense and you nod, trying not to look irritated. It’s only when she leaves, your smile drops.
“Fucking hell,” You mutter to yourself, fed up.
You know you shouldn’t be here and you also know that your work isn’t going to get done properly while you're exhausted – but you need a distraction. Refusing to look at Chan’s messages is harder said than done, but today, giving in is not an option.
The last thing on your mind is Chan – or at least you try convincing yourself of that.
“I don’t suppose you know of someone named Y/n, do you?” Chan believes that bumping into the girl leaving your company’s building was a blessing in disguise. He’d seen her before, noting as soon as he saw her face that she was a friend of yours from work.
She smiles, glancing up at the tall building, silently giving him an answer. “Hi, yes! She’s staying back to catch up on some work.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrow and he looks at his watch. It’s twenty minutes past the time in which you would already be on your way home. He thought he missed you, but suddenly he thinks that road raging and swerving between traffic wasn’t needed on his way here.
“She’s still up there if you’re looking for her,” Your coworker pipes, “Floor thirteen.”
Chan smiles and thanks her before entering through the sliding doors. He walks with a pep in his step, making it to the elevator just in time before it closes and pressing the button. With each floor he passes, he begins to feel something faint starting to stir in him. It starts in his toes, making its way up to his abdomen, then chest, and finally his ears. He clenches and unclenches his hands repeatedly, anxiousness getting the best of him.
He hesitates to get off the lift when it finally reaches, but he steps out and takes a short look around. The office is quiet, a lot less people being around now that the workday is over. The big windows throughout the space let in bright light from the sun, hitting the cubicles perfectly. He walks slowly, scanning the place as he tries to spot you.
You stand out – sitting at your desk, fingers typing away at the keyboard and drawing out clicking sounds in the quiet atmosphere. You’re entirely too focused, but still, he can see the bags under your eyes and slouch to your posture.
He approaches carefully, not wanting to alarm you. “Hey,” He greets softly.
You snap your head up, eyes wide in shock as you take him in. “What are you doing here?” You ask, pushing your chair back and standing while you try to process the situation.
Chan shrugs, “You never texted me back.”
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, “So what? You think showing up to my job was a good idea?”
There’s an undertone of venom laced within your words and it causes Chan to slightly flinch. He acts like the glare you sent his way doesn’t faze him and instead keeps his composure calm.
“You’re ignoring me.”
Your heart beats rapidly at the confrontation. “Leave Chan,” You dismiss, raising a stern eyebrow at him.
“Hell no,” He laughs, but it’s half-hearted and not from amusement, “I’ve been going insane Y/n. Insane and it’s all because of you.”
You avert your eyes from him, staring at your desk as you don't respond.
“We can’t keep doing this. It’s either you want me just as badly as I want you, or you just don’t want me at all.” He uses his hands to speak, gesturing sporadically out of frustration. “I could be anything you want. You just tell me what you want and I’ll be that for you.”
You glance up at him, eyes threatening to fill with tears. You hold them back to the best of your ability. His words pull at your heartstrings, but you try not to let them phase you. You shake your head, barely holding it together as you mutter softly, “Leave.”
A few minutes roll by, but no words are said. The tension between the two of you grows thick.
Chan nods, eyes narrowing as he studies you. “Fine,” He agrees, “I’ll go.”
“Fine?” You uncross your arms, regretting your decision of not wanting him around. You forgot how desperately you craved the feeling of him, let alone enjoyed it. The thought of losing him again was unbearable as dramatic as it may seem, but it was from your own doing. Chan was just simply obliging by what you said and you had absolutely no right being mad at him for doing so.
He’s quick to catch the way you react as he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. However, he’s not surprised. Your walls may be built up now, but he’s knocked them down once and he’s certainly not afraid to do it again.
“Unless you don’t want me to?”
You stiffen slightly, mouth going dry as you grow used to the feeling of your throat tightening. You’re afraid to speak, scared that your words might leave your mouth with a sob. Your silence seems to be enough and Chan exhales deeply before he tilts his head in recognition.
“Tomorrow. Five p.m.” His tone leaves no room for argument, plans already set in stone. “Be ready. I’ll pick you up.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, teeth digging into the soft flesh, but nevertheless, you nod in agreement.
Chan offers you a tight-lipped smile, happy with your answer. For a second he was beginning to fear that you were going to reject him, but his worries were now at bay.
You’re all his once again and this time around, he has absolutely no intention of letting you go anytime soon.
“Now, let me take you home.”
The sound of sneakers against pavement and the distant chatter of people filled the air as you and Chan strolled through the carnival. The night was alive with energy – the scent of popcorn and funnel cakes drifting through and excited screams from roller coaster passengers blending into the upbeat music playing from the overhead speakers.
It was pushing just past sunset, and as adamant as you were about going on this date, you surely did enjoy the man’s presence. Being within his vicinity was always the most comfortable you’ve ever been. Similar to a fluffy warm blanket draped over your body on a cold winter night.
You look over at Chan, the bright neon lights of a few rides nearby casting colorful reflections across his face. It caused him to look impossibly more attractive than he already is; his side profile standing out from the mild shine of a spotlight.
“What?”
You blink in surprise as he turns his head towards you. Not having expected him to catch you in the act of admiring his good looks, you quickly avert your gaze.
“Nothing,” You mutter.
Chan’s lips curve into the smallest smirk and he playfully nudges his shoulder against yours. “Tell me,” He insists.
Your shoulders roll back as you try to save face and divert the topic. “You know, we’ve been here for a few hours already.” You glance up at the dark shades of blue and purple painting the sky. “Whatever happened to that ferris wheel you were telling me about?”
Your diversion seems to do the trick and Chan’s eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite ride. For a split second, he looks like a starstruck child. But soon his excitement dulls down into something smaller and laced with disappointment.
“What?” You frown. “What’s wrong?”
Chan tries to smile, but it falters halfway through. “So you did see my texts.”
You freeze, breath picking up as you register your mistake. The only reason why you knew the ferris wheel was his favorite was because Chan mentioned the ride before – specifically on Thursday when you’d been on a deadset mission of shutting him out.
“Fuck.” The expression on your face morphs into one ridden of guilt and shame. “I’m really sorry,” You apologize.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chan shrugs, “It’s fine.”
You sigh, shaking your head, “No Chan it’s not. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you and instead of just talking things out like adults, I decided that avoiding you was the best option.”
He regards your heartfelt apology, reassuring you, “Really, it’s okay.”
You continue with your speech, not properly registering the acceptance in his tone. “I behaved stupidly, and immaturely, and –,” You wince with remorse plaguing your mind, “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Y/n,” Chan interrupts and you half expect him to be angry with you. Instead, he’s calm, nonchalant almost. “I told you, it’s fine. I understand.” His hands are shoved into his pockets as he observes you, unfazed by everything that’s happening. You kind of want him to be angry with you – maybe then you’d feel a little less shitty for throwing yourself a pity party, although it seems unreasonable. “You just need to understand.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together, not sure what he meant. “Understand? Understand what exactly?”
Chan smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes. It causes the butterflies in your stomach to erupt and heart to swell in your chest. “You’ll see.” He holds his hand out and you take the offer, enlacing your fingers with his despite still being skeptical. “You just need to figure some things out for yourself.”
You choose to stay silent and ponder while you allow him to guide you through the crowds of people. He eased through them and before you know it, without having enough time to even think over what he said, you were standing in line for the ferris wheel.
The tall spinning frame rose above everything else, outlined in golden bulbs that blinked brightly and illuminated the night. Each cart swung gently in the wind, going around slowly and giving each rider enough time to appreciate the view from the top.
The queue moved forward and you followed, stepping up to the platform as Chan led you into a purple cart. You take your seats, just the two of you alone as the wheel starts moving and you embark on the journey upwards.
At first it’s quiet, and the only thing you can hear is the whipping of wind the higher the cart moves. But as Chan scooted closer until his thigh was pressed up against your own, the sound of the wind was soon replaced with one of your own heartbeat.
You tried not to pay any attention, but it became progressively more difficult when his hand brushed yours. The jitters were hard to push down and you were no longer able to focus on the view of the city. The silence that loomed over kept you on edge and you began to bounce your leg to help calm yourself.
Chan’s hand darts out to rest on your thigh and the movement immediately stops at his touch. You snap your head over to him, but instead of saying anything, he offers a comforting smile as he squeezes your leg to provide reassurance.
That’s when you understood.
The ferris wheel wasn’t just a ride – it was the kind of place that held the weight of too many confessions and almost kisses. The kind of place where everything you’ve been avoiding, starts to inevitably feel closer, clearer, and harder to deny.
Up here, where it feels like you’re on top of the world, makes it easier to think and harder to lie. And now as your cart is at the highest peak of the ride, there is no longer anywhere to run and hide. You didn’t want to be up here, not with him, and definitely not now when you could feel your walls starting to slip.
“Y/n,” He says your name softly.
You make the mistake and meet his eyes, catching glimpses of the warmth that swirled in them. The way he peered at you was almost too knowingly. Like he already has you all figured out and was just waiting for you to finally stop pretending.
You turn your body towards him to observe his expression – and there it was. That look you’ve been running from. Not because you didn’t want it, but because you did.
You’ve spent the last week dodging it, thinking you would break if you thought about the softness in his voice whenever he said your name or the way he could list all the little things about you that no one else knows.
“What you said earlier,” You swallow hard and it’s almost painful as you accept what you’ve been trying to hold back since the first time you met him. “About understanding.” You could feel the anticipation curling in your chest, quiet and warm like a secret you hadn’t meant to bring with you that was finally going to be aired out.
Chan nods in acknowledgment, urging you to continue.
“I didn’t know what you meant then – but if I did, I think I was trying to disregard it.”
His eyes search yours, glazing over your features before he asks gently, “And now?”
You breathe in the night, gazing at him as if he’d strung all the stars in the sky. The quiet certainty settled and you found yourself being brave enough to speak. “Now,” You start, nodding in final acceptance, “I understand.”
Chan doesn’t wait a second longer. As soon as you say the words, your admittance now out in the open, his lips are on yours. His hand snakes up to the side of your face, cradling your cheek as your lips welcome his own. The kiss is everything your first one wasn’t – it’s slow and calculated, with passion poured into it with every fiber of your heart and souls. The truth that once lived in the shadows between you is now loud – shouting, screaming, draining all the oxygen from your lungs to be heard as you refuse to pull away.
Loving Chan came as easy as breathing, and you didn’t want to hold your breath for any longer. You were tired of suffocating when it felt like he was the only thing you needed to survive.
You slowly pull away from the kiss, forehead resting against his. “Chan,” You whisper his name. He hums, holding your gaze, being able to see all the thoughts practically swimming in your head. “I love you.”
The edges of his mouth slightly curve and he looks at you tenderly as he tucks a stand of loose hair behind your ear.
“I know.”
Six days ago, when Chan was here, it marked the first time you invited him into your apartment. But as he steps into your bedroom, lips attached to yours, this time he was here because you had finally invited him into your heart.
Clothes are shed on the way to your bed. You toss your jacket carelessly to the side, not caring where it lands. Chan reciprocates your actions, only pulling away to rip off his shirt before he’s right back to kissing you. Your hands find his belt, fumbling to undo the buckle. He helps you, the clanking of metal reaching your ears as he takes it off and throws it to the ground.
“Let me suck you off.” You glance up at him, eyes blown and pupils dilated.
Chan lets out a breathless laugh, “I’m the one that’s supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Please,” You plead, voice desperate with want – no – need. “I want to make you feel good.”
He sighs, studying the eagerness you’re emitting. “Fine.” He gives in much quicker than expected.
As soon as you get the green light, you’re sinking to your knees, pulling his jeans down with you. The carpet of your floor digs into your knees, causing them to feel scratchy, but it’s the least of your worries. Your fingernails graze over the skin on his pelvis, causing him to flinch and goosebumps to arise. You can see the bulge in his thin boxer briefs waiting to be freed when you cup him over the fabric.
Chan lets out a shuddered breath, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. You send him a playful smile, knowing all too well from your previous encounter last week, the effect you have on him.
To hear him whine, and moan, and beg again – oh the things you would do.
You slip a finger under his waistband, letting it linger before leisurely pulling his boxers down. His erection springs free, standing tall and leaking of pre-cum. You ghost your fingertips over it, a shit-eating grin spreading across your face as Chan sucks in a breath of air from the feeling.
You loved toying with him. Chan had learned that the hard way before. But now it seems to be harder to deal with the second time around.
Your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading the fluid that had seeped out. You gaze up at him as innocently as you can, observing the way he reacts to your teasing. The muscles in his stomach flex as he tries to endure it, but as you grip his cock firmly, only squeezing him and nothing else – he grows more and more frustrated by the minute.
“Y/n,” He breathes out. His lids flutter open to peer down at you. Your eyebrows raise in acknowledgment, and Chan nearly scoffs at the audacity you have to look confused.
“What’s wrong Channie?” You ask, lips forming into a pout.
“I thought you said you wanted to suck me off.” He tries to be stern, but his tone is breathless and higher pitched than usual.
You shrug, “I do.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
You tut in disapproval, shaking your head. “Patience is key, Chan. I thought we already went over this.”
He groans in annoyance, flashbacks of the last time y’all slept together still fresh in his mind. His reaction causes you to laugh and you can’t help but enjoy his misery just a little bit. However, yearning for him the past week has you feeling needier than usual and you throw in the towel as you feel your panties dampening at the sight of him.
You slowly slide your tongue from the base of his cock to the head, taking small kitten licks when you finally reach the top. It’s barely anything, but still, it gives Chan something to work with as he sighs in satisfaction.
You take your time, tracing every vein that protrudes and coating his length in your saliva to make it easier for your hand to glide and twist around him. You suck on his tip, softly moaning at the taste of salty pre-cum on your tastebuds. It encourages you to slide down further, stuffing your mouth full of cock as your nose hits his pelvis.
Chan watches as you work with ease, and a groan escapes at the lewd scene of you taking him whole. It’s almost as if his cock is in its second home, your warm mouth wrapped around him and tip brushing against the back of your throat.
You press your thighs together at the sound of pleasure he emits and focus on your breathing to grow accustomed to the length of him before you slide off.
“Better?” You ask.
“God yes.”
You chuckle, and you’re right back on him yet again. This time you focus your hand on the lower half of his cock, jerking him off whilst you bob your head up and down on the top half. You keep the same speed for both, and the synchrony assists in drawing moans from Chan. You could feel him growing more tense with every move you make and you start to go faster when you recognize the signs.
You stifle a whimper when he tangles his fingers in your hair, gathering the strands into a makeshift ponytail. He doesn’t guide you however. Instead, he allows you to keep the same pace and suck his cock at your own speed. It’s only when you moan around the size of him, Chan’s cock spasms.
He’s almost there – he can feel it, and so can you.
Your tongue flattens against the underside of his length and you hollow your cheeks to suck him with such an intensity that it makes his knees buckle in the slightest. He regains his composure, tightening his grip in your hair as he pants heavily.
“Fuck Y/n.” He makes the mistake of looking down to where you stared back up at him with doe eyes. The sight makes him weak and the familiar feeling of pleasure thrums throughout his body. “I’m, I –,” He tries his best to speak clearly, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
You hum and he feels the vibrations of the sound around his cock. It only helps push him closer to the edge, and just as he tilts his head back and thinks he’s going to be sent over – it vanishes.
He snaps his eyelids open, glaring at you incredulously. You mock his expression, before smirking.
“I never gave you permission to cum.”
“Then what’s the fucking point?” Chan asks angrily. His jaw is clenched and you can sense that he’s trying to keep his anger at bay.
You brush off his attitude, acting nonchalant. “For fun.”
Chan bites his tongue, knowing that if he let himself speak, his words might come across as too harsh. The head of his cock is red, covered in your spit, and throbbing for attention. It’s an unpleasant sensation, and he can do nothing but crave for you to continue your ministrations from before. He considers begging but decides that it would only fuel your drive for dominance. The realization turns him away from the thought until he’s left with another idea rattling around in his brain.
Growing uncomfortable to the feeling of the rough carpet against your skin, you lift a leg to help yourself get up. You try to stand, but Chan’s arms settle firmly on your shoulders, pushing you back into the same exact position you were in before. You scowl at the man, wincing as you adjust your posture to avoid rug burn.
The look in his eyes is something you’ve never seen before. It’s possessive, determined, almost – dominant.
He’s moving fast, too quick for you to fully process as both of his hands settle on either side of your face. Your mouth opens in shock to ask him what he’s doing, but it seems to be a slip-up as he takes advantage of your mistake. He thrusts his cock deeply past your lips and you almost choke at the intrusion. Tears prick your waterline, threatening to fall over as he begins to ram into your mouth, groaning as he takes control of the situation.
Surprisingly enough, you let him. You don’t try to stop him, and he’s somewhat thankful that you understand how badly he wants this. You’ve made him wait far too long, and god forbid what can he say? He’s needy.
“Holy shit,” He groans, “So fucking good.” He adjusts his grip on your face, speeding up. “Perfect. Made just for me, yeah?”
You try to nod your head to agree, but when you figure that you can’t, instead you let out a loud whine. It’s muffled, but still, it reaches his ears.
The sound evokes something out of him, and when his cock jerks in your mouth, that’s when you feel the spurts of cum shooting down your throat.
Chan’s mouth falls open as the bliss runs through him. He shamelessly allows high-pitched moans to fall from his lips as he stills completely, shoved all the way in, to where his balls are pressed against your chin.
You soak up every last bit of his cum, the taste of him almost addicting. He finally lets go of your face when his orgasm fades, breathing heavily as he tries to pull himself out of your mouth. Before he can remove his cock completely, you suck on his tip, causing him to whimper in sensitivity before whipping it out entirely. With a loud pop, you grant him grace by letting him go.
As you get up from the floor and Chan moves to rest on the bed, it’s obvious that he’s a little out of it. His cock rests against his stomach, softening, but still half erect. The view of him ignites something close to desire within you, and you can feel your underwear sticking to your skin as you grow wetter. The ache in your core only worsens when he brings an arm up to push back his hair, abs flexing at the stretch.
It’s almost comical how fast you remove your clothes; somehow being able to do so without the man glancing up to admire the sight of you. He’s still in a post-orgasmic daze when he feels the mattress move from you climbing on and shifting the weight. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he knows that you're close when your thigh brushes against his shoulders.
Your hands find the headboard, and you use it as leverage to swing your leg over him, knees on both sides of his face to position yourself directly above his lips. His lids flutter open and he’s presented with a sight that is what he considers to be, mouthwatering. He can feel his cock hardening once again, excited at the view of your wet folds.
“Be a good boy Chan,” You taunt, lowering yourself further down, “I know you want to.”
If heaven existed, then this would surely be it. There’s no other place Chan would rather be right now than in between your thighs.
His arms wrap around your legs, tugging you closer. The sudden jolt causes you to lose your grip on the bed frame, but you’re quick to grab hold of it again. It seems fruitless as you use the wooden structure to ground yourself, hands loosening when you feel his tongue on you.
Chan eats you out as if you’re his last meal, gathering every drop of arousal and savoring the taste. His tongue works fast and efficiently, swiping through your folds and poking at your entrance every now and again. The sloppy sounds he makes causes you to become impossibly hornier than before, and you let go of the headboard to fondle your breasts instead. Your fingers dance around your nipples, feeling them turn into hard buds as you pinch and tug at them. You don’t bother to contain your moans, letting Chan be well aware of how good he’s making you feel.
When you look down, his gaze is set on your face, observing your reaction to every move he makes. You whine at the eye contact, and when his lips wrap around your clit to suck harshly, your pupils roll back in pleasure. You grind on his face, merely just using him as a way to help get you off. Your pussy enjoys the attention he gives it, messy with your slick and Chan’s saliva.
“Holy shit Channie,” You whimper, “S-so close.”
He flicks at your bud with the tip of his tongue, continuously keeping the same pace. Your body feels as if a fire is igniting, coursing through your veins, and making you all hot and bothered. It’s harder to hold yourself up, and when your legs almost give out, Chan makes sure he clings on tight to help you stay upright. You move your hips persistently against his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flattening against your clit. The coil tightens in the pit of your stomach. When Chan groans, sending vibrations straight into your core, it makes the knot unravel.
“Oh god, I’m gonna –,” You don’t get to even finish your statement. Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, sending pleasurable sensations through your spine. You’re unable to hear the noises that escape from you, ears ringing as you bask in the bliss.
Chan continues to lap at your cunt until your orgasm fades. It dies down slowly, leaving you heaving with beads of sweat forming on your forehead. “Fuck,” You manage to force out in between breaths, “That was amazing.” Your body rolls over and you lay beside him trying to collect yourself.
Your brain is clouded, thick with fog and impure thoughts. Chan tilts his head to look at you, scanning your figure before humming. “I’m hard again,” He states the obvious and you look down to see that it’s true.
You laugh at his cock laying thick and firm against his lower abdomen. The urge spikes within you again, and although you’re tired and much more sensitive than before, your pussy greedily throbs in need.
You can’t help it – Chan is intoxicating.
Shifting closer to him, your breasts brush against his shoulders as you lean in. You trail kisses up his neck, nipping at his skin. He shudders, angling his head at a better angle so it would be easier for you to continue.
Slowly, you work your way to his ear. “I can do something about it,” You whisper, voice sultry, like velvet laced with silk. You pull back just enough to let the tension simmer, eyes locking with his.
A flash of something darker flickers across his gaze at your invitation. His pulse beats swiftly under your touch, and there’s the smallest hint of impatience in his posture. “And what will you do exactly?” He murmurs, voice low and rough, betraying his growing desire.
The heat between you intensifies and you can feel the magnetic pull between your bodies as you silently crave each other's touch.
“Let me show you.”
Your offer is more than enough, and Chan moves his hand to make it easier for you to throw your leg over his torso.
“Be my guest, baby.”
You smirk at him, sitting directly on top of his fully erect cock. When he feels himself between your folds, he can’t help but grind up into you, making you tut in disapproval.
“Patience Channie,” You scold, hands roaming over his body and mapping out every nook and cranny. You take your time, leaning down to ghost kisses from his abdomen to his jawline. The action causes Chan to become restless, and he betrays himself by letting a desperate whimper loose when you mark his neck with a hickey.
Leaning back to inspect your work, you run a finger over the bruise now turning a light shade of purple before averting your line of vision to look him in the eyes.
“Beg.”
Chan scoffs. “You’re kidding right?”
“No,” You shake your head. “You heard me – beg.”
Defiantly, Chan stills underneath your frame. You can feel his muscles tense, faint lines of his abdomen becoming more prominent when he does so.
“Come on Channie,” You taunt, leaving teasing touches along his stomach, “Tell me how badly you want it.”
He stays quiet, refusing to give in. He tries to ignore the way your hands wander, knowing that if he pays attention, it would cause him to break.
You let out a sigh, but it doesn’t sound as defeated as it should. “Fine,” You state, moving to get off of him. “Suit yourself.”
Chan lifts his body from the bed slightly, arms darting out to grab your waist. “Wait,” He plops you right back down on him, fingers gently digging into your flesh. “Please,” He says, face scrunching as he gives in to your demands.
You chuckle, enjoying the desperation that radiates from him. “Please what?” You raise an eyebrow, playing dumb.
“Y/n, please,” His tone is pleading. “I need you so bad.”
“Keep going,” You encourage, hand shifting between your bodies to slowly jerk his cock. He bucks into your hand as you pump him, only making him all the more needier.
“Want to fuck you,” He whimpers softly, mind side-tracking when he feels you line your hole up with his cock. His tip prods at your entrance. “Make you feel good. Make me feel good. I don’t care – just wanna make us feel good.”
“That’s all you had to say.”
When you finally sink down on his cock, it draws out a moan from the both of you. The stretch is bordering on the edge of stinging and satisfaction as you get used to his size. Chan fills you deliciously, almost as if you were made for him.
“Full,” You stammer, “So full.”
The man below you is equally as speechless as you are, brain turned somewhat into mush at the feeling. In that moment, he’s positive, he would never get tired of you.
You place your palms on his chest, using his body as leverage to test the waters and grind against him gently. The feeling is undeniably addicting, and you can’t help but do it again. What was once a dominant persona is now washed away, faded completely as your sensitivity takes hold of you. The whines that leave your mouth should be shameful, but you can’t seem to care when it all just feels so incredibly good.
When you begin to bounce, clenching around the length of him, Chan’s certain he might just cum then and there. Despite this, he holds on for a little longer, nails digging into your hips. The slight pain only adds to your own personal pleasure. Your noises of bliss and desire blend into the air, filling your bedroom with unholy sounds. With each bounce, Chan’s hips meet you halfway, thrusting up into your core. His cock drags against your walls, the head of it slamming into your g-spot every single time without fail.
“You like that, huh?” You try to keep the upper hand, but it gets progressively harder to do so the more you bounce. “So desperate for my pussy.” Your breasts jiggle in perfect harmony as you fuck yourself on his cock, and Chan can’t tear his gaze away from them as he reaches out to take hold of one.
You whine at the feeling of him squeezing the mound of flesh. One of your hands come up to cup over his own, while your other hand stretches lower to your cunt. You rub fast circles on your clit, not caring about being precise as you frantically try to get yourself off.
“Holy shit Y/n,” He groans, hips lifting off the bed urgently to keep the same pace when you begin to falter. “What’s wrong baby? Getting tired?” This time it’s his turn to mock you, realizing that you can only keep up with riding him for so long.
Your thighs burn, silently screaming for mercy as they start to cramp up. You don’t let his words take effect as you send him a sharp glare.
When you start to rely more on him than your own abilities, that’s when Chan stills. You stop along with him, taking deep breaths. You can feel your baby hairs sticking to your forehead and sweat trickling between the valley of your breast at the hard work you were putting in.
“No, no, no.” Chan’s hand comes down, landing a loud smack to your ass. “Don’t stop now.” His attitude is much different from before. He sounded more firm, dark even. More like – he had the upper hand now.
Chan sees your defenses crumble before you can stop them. He senses the exact moment you come to the conclusion that you are no longer in control and that your pleasure now lies with him.
You wish you could continue, you really do, but the subtle ache in your legs tells you that now is the time to stop before it gets any worse. The last thing you want is pain distracting you from sex.
“Please.”
Your voice is so soft that Chan almost doesn’t hear it. He has to lean closer, asking you to repeat yourself. All pride pushed aside, hesitantly, you say it again. The plea falls from your lips and thankfully he wastes no time. Chan’s arm wraps around your back, and in seconds he’s rolling the two of you over so you’re under him.
“That’s all you had to say,” He mocks your words from earlier, but instead of provoking a reaction out of you, it instead draws a whine. It travels straight to Chan’s cock, and you can feel him twitch inside your walls.
“Move Chan,” You pant pathetically, “Need you.”
Your eyes are glazed over, filled with desire and temptation. Chan struggles to hold himself back. He wants to draw it out for longer and push you to your limits, but he can only have a grip on himself for so long.
When your nails dig into his back, marking his skin as you scratch along it – he snaps. Something unknown takes over him and he rams into your core at a deadly pace. The speedy movements create squelching sounds as you clench around him.
“You’re so fucking tight,” He groans through his teeth as your cunt grips around him tightly.
With every thrust, you’re seeing stars. Chan shows your pussy no mercy, fucking into you as he tries to bring both of you to a mindblowing orgasm. Your sensitivity from your earlier orgasm helps to reach that recognizable feeling that you know so well, and your toes curl when the head of his cock hits your cervix straight on.
“Don’t stop,” You almost shout, when you feel the knot forming in your stomach. Your arms circle around his neck, pulling him closer to your body. He happily follows you, kissing along your jawline and marking your flesh just like you marked his. “Oh my god Chan, that feels so good.”
With a few more thrusts, and a few more moans to accompany each one, your orgasm slams into you like a tide pulling you under. The hairs stick up on the back of your neck and your jaw falls open as the pleasurable sensation takes over your body. You can feel it everywhere – from your head, to your toes, to your pussy that squeezes Chan like a vice.
He slows down, rocking his hips into you before pulling out and jerking himself off with his hand. His cum shoots out, thick and white all over your cunt, and he grunts at the view.
The mattress shifts when he falls next to you on the bed, both of you trying to catch your breath as you come down from the high. Your chests rise and fall in sync, completely burnt out post-orgasm.
“Y/n.” It’s a few minutes of trying to collect yourself before Chan breaks the silence.
You hum, not bothering to open your eyes to visually acknowledge him next to you.
“For what it’s worth, I love you too.”
Showering together may, or may not have been a good idea.
Chan might be strong enough to hold you up against the door, but certainly not for a long period of time; even more so, when he’s thrusting into you for round two. The floor was slippery and the condensation on the glass wasn’t any better. In mid-frustration, you were both able to be transported into a state of euphoria yet again, although it wasn’t quite as satisfying as the first.
“You know, when I showed up to your work –,” Chan’s voice cut through the air.
You laugh, remembering the thought. “You mean when you invaded my personal space.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” He winces, before turning on his side to look at you, “But I think we’re way past personal space at this point.”
You huff out amused. You match his position, facing him while you scan over his features.
Soft lamplight spilled over the bedroom walls, warm and gold tones illuminating your faces. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, causing you to shiver as your damp hair pressed into the pillows.
“Anyways,” Chan continues, “I said I could be whatever you want. Remember that?”
You nod in recognition, humming softly. “You’re dumb.”
“No,” Chan states firmly. “I’m yours,” He corrects.
“Yeah,” A faint smile spreads across your face, “You are.”
If you told the you from a few months ago that this is where you would be now – indirectly declaring a relationship with a man you match with on TINDER – she would’ve surely screamed, called you an idiot, and slapped you across the face.
The you now however, well she’s no longer afraid to admit that she’s in love.
“I should’ve swiped when I had the chance,” You joke, legs tangling with Chan’s underneath the bedsheets. His skin is warm against yours, bringing you a sense of comfort at the contact.
“Why didn’t you?”
You shrug, “You told me not to.”
Chan shakes his head, scoffing playfully at your antics. He stares at the ceiling as silence looms over, the quiet atmosphere not lasting for long when you whisper his name. He glances back over at you, clocking your emotionally vulnerable state before you can mutter your next words.
“I’m yours too.”
He smiles at your confirmation and it doesn’t take much to know that both of your hearts are now full, content, and happy.
one day, the letters you wrote for everyone you've ever loved go missing. lee chan, the son of your mother's best friend, finds his letter in the mail. with the ball in his court, you might be a bit surprised to see what he's aiming for.
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