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seokgyuu · 11 months

Text

→ GENRE: smut, college au, crack

→ PAIRING: Chan(Dino)x Afab!Fem!Reader

→ SYNOPSIS: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

→ WARNINGS: neighbor!dino, angry sex kinda??, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, squirting, bandage but not really?? yn‘s hands just get tied together, dino uses the words “sweetheart” and “darling” a lot, begging

→ WORDCOUNT: 12k (I don’t know what happened here fr… i snapped)

previous; masterlist ; next

A/N: Hi guys! I am back with this monster of a chapter (tumblr is literally lagging as I write this??)! This time our maknae <3. Going to be honest, the Chan brainrot was THERE these past months. This chapter is one of my favs, not because of the smut necessarily, but because of a few scenes that i just... yeah. Also, the mess gets even messier. *Innocent giggle*. Have fun reading and if you want to be added to the taglist please fill out the form!

taglist: @ariachavez168, @sandcasltes, @amiga-qmilagraso, @learnthisfeeling, @cersti-mo0, @nixtape-foryou, @minahoeshi, @listxn, @starlight-night0, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @kwonranghae, @haogyuslut, @a-dramatic-girl, @lovercuff, @grapefruithan, @whyokoa, @lovercheol, @cosmicupoftea, @learnthisfeeling, @knucklesdeepmingi, @wonusworldd, @baldi-2, @seventeencaratworld, @kingalls00, @1-800-jeonwonwoo, @hoeforhao, @p-dwiddle-blog, @tsukimiyuukun, @urfavtallgirl222, @jordand2012, @lcvejordyn, @jeanjacketjesus, @gaebestie, @hara-98-fan @cersti-mo0 (if your name is crossed out it's because i can't tag you!)

The sunlight was shining through the pretty dark green curtains. Once the light hit you, your eyes flew open, taking in your surroundings at once. The first thing you noticed was yourself. The enormous mirror on the ceiling was having you stare at your own figure, the soft blanket draped over you and only your right leg sticking out, naked and a reminder of last night’s events. The bed was empty next to you, no sign of Seungcheol anywhere and you slowly sat up, letting one hand run through your hair. When he had said that he had a room at the hotel, you had not expected it to be a whole suite he lived in basically all year round (or well, whenever he visited Seoul during his time abroad). The bedroom you were currently in was at least the size of the room you had dined (and fucked) in yesterday, with high windows and a beautiful view of the river. The floor was dark wood, and a soft looking carpet laid right in front of the king size bed. There was a fireplace across from you with a flatscreen TV hanging over it. All in all, the room wasn’t decorated much but impressive at the same time. You slowly got out of bed, your feet touching the carpet you only now realized was spread underneath the bed as well, and you held the thin, soft blanket up, so it covered your naked body. There was a bathroom attached to the room as you saw now, wondering how much you had actually missed when he had led you in here last night. But then again you hadn’t really paid much attention to the interior when you had gotten here. A slight blush crept over your cheeks as you let your eyes linger on the bed behind you for a second, suddenly remembering vividly how he had felt, how he had touched you, tasted you, made you cum so hard you had to beg for a break before you could do anything else. Gosh, he had been so incredibly sweet, kissing your body, caressing your skin, holding you close until you turned around and kissed him, making him aware of you wanting him once more.

Quickly, before the memories became too much too soon, you shook your head and walked over to the door, hoping to find Seungcheol out there. The living space was open and had just as minimal decoration as his bedroom, but it looked a little brighter. The curtains here were crème colored and the furniture about the same. The big leather couch was white and had all kinds of pillows on top of it, the TV was basically a whole wall. There were end tables on each side of the couch, holding books and a lamp and you were impressed by the magnificent carpet spread underneath it. The kitchen space was the same amount of bright, a big island in the middle with four bar stools in front of it – one of them holding Cheol who was on the phone with his laptop propped on top of the island. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too immersed in whatever he was doing. You slowly made your way over to him, stretching out your hand once you were close enough to place it on his shoulder. He turned around, surprise on his face for just a second before his features softened and he smiled, his free hand wandering to yours and bringing it to his lips to softly plant a kiss on your knuckles.

“Yes, Mr. Jang, we will definitely get back to you on that. I wish you a pleasant Sunday.” He hung up and suddenly you were lifted up, a yelp escaping you as the blanket slid from your fingers, leaving you naked and now sitting on the kitchen island that felt extremely cold on your bottom.

“Oppa!” you squeaked, and he laughed, before both of his hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking your jaw as he pulled you into a deep kiss that made you melt right into his frame. You let your hands rest on his shoulders for a little while, only to fully wrap your arms around his neck once he deepened the kiss, his own hands wandering to the small of your back to pull you even closer. You didn’t know how he did it, but your mind went blank and all you felt and saw was him, the only thing you wanted was for him to take you again, to make you feel as precious as he had last night. And yet you also knew that these feelings needed to go, you couldn’t let this persona of his make you forget that you still had your pride on the line. Not to mention if you let this get to your head it would very likely cost you your friendship with Jiwoo.

With that thought on the forefront of your brain, you softly pushed him away, your eyes finding his.

“Oppa,” you started, letting one hand rest on his cheek, “I should leave.”

“Do you want to leave?” He asked now, letting his hands rest on the island next to your thighs. Sighing, you bit your lip.

“It’s not about me. I probably shouldn’t have slept with you in the first place, hell, I shouldn’t have agreed to go on a date with you, but I did. And now I need to end this before-,”

“Before what?” Cheol slightly tilted his head, his deep brown eyes staring into yours. You swallowed.

“It doesn’t matter. I need to go. All of this,” you used your hands to gesture around the room, “is something that isn’t me, shouldn’t be me. Can’t be me. And you, god, you are my best friend’s brother and she adores you, I can’t- she would hate me if she knew.”

You somehow managed to escape him, hopping off the counter and grabbing the blanket to wrap it around yourself again. Seungcheol watched you, arms crossed over his broad chest, and you had trouble looking away, the memories still so fresh in your mind.

“You don’t know if she would, Y/N,” he began, shaking his head, “you’ve already made up your mind about Jiwoo even though you haven’t talked to her.”

You stared at him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you desperately tried to sort your own thoughts and feelings. What was he even talking about? There wasn’t anything to discuss with Jiwoo, even if she was okay with you sleeping with Seungcheol – what did it matter? You weren’t going to do this again; you couldn’t possibly do this again because it would only lead to complications that you did not feel the need to experience again.

“Oppa, it doesn’t matter, okay? This was a one-time thing, you and me. I thought that was clear?”

Seungcheol fell silent. Mainly because, yes, you were right. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. He felt attracted to you from the second he saw you and it was obvious you felt the same. As he had told you yesterday, he always got what he wanted and last night that had been you. He had wanted you and he had gotten you. So why was he acting this way? Why did the thought of you leaving out the door and not turning back make him feel like this? Like he wished he could make you stop, make you stay. With him.

Pulling a hand through his hair, he averted his eyes and just shook his head.

“Yeah. You’re right. One-time thing,” he mumbled then, still not looking at you. And he decided to just turn around and get back to his work on the laptop instead of trying to convince you to stay. A mix of relief and disappointment filled you when you saw him sit back down, your brain scolding you for feeling the latter part. Without saying another word, you walked back into the bedroom and got dressed, hoping the taxi fee home wouldn’t completely bomb your bank account.

When you walked out again, Seungcheol was back on the phone. And when you left the suite, you had a feeling it wasn’t just your ripped underwear you had left behind.

It was five days after you had left Seungcheol at the hotel and Soonyoung had made a mind-map. A mind-map that contained all the names of the guys you had slept with for the challenge, all of them connected by arrows in some shape or form. You stared at it with your mouth slightly dropped.

“So, I felt like this was necessary,” he explained as he took a sip from his coffee.

“How- how did you- what the hell?”

It was scary but impressive.

“Was the “in love with u” necessary, though?” You finally asked after a few seconds of silence and Soonyoung chuckled.

“Only writing the truth,” he said, leaning back in his chair. As much as you hated to admit it… maybe he wasn’t too wrong. It was crazy though, how the left side was a complete chaos, while the right side remained oddly peaceful.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Soonyoung said, a knowing grin on his lips, “how is it possible that the right side looks so… uneventful. Well, first of all I’m sure it’s because Jiwoo wasn’t responsible for any of them.” He had a point there. You chewed on your bottom lip, looking at the chart/mind-map again. It was true, the whole chaos had happened when Jiwoo had been in charge of choosing your targets. Now, with you in control, the drama could finally come to an end. You were relieved to say the least.

“Well, this leaves me with four more to go,” you concluded, leaning back in your chair as well, “that doesn’t seem like such a hard number.” It certainly felt like a lot less pressure than 13, that was for sure. You grabbed your own cup of coffee and took a big sip, your eyes gazing through the coffee shop, wondering if anyone in here sparked your interest. Soonyoung watched you with a chuckle, locking the iPad he had shown you the graphic on, about to put it in his bag, when he suddenly heard someone coughing. Loudly coughing. In very close proximity.

It was you. You were coughing. Choking on your coffee that had landed in the wrong pipe after you had caught a glimpse of the front door of the café and those walking through it.

There was no way. No way in hell this was happening right now.

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung worriedly asked, grabbing one of his napkins and handing it to you, but you didn’t even hear him, nor see the white napkin he was holding.

Mingyu had just walked in. Behind him Joshua, Jun, Minghao and if that hadn’t been enough already, Seungkwan and Jihoon staggered inside the coffee shop right then as well. Your head was about to explode. None of this made sense. How on earth- what the fuck?

“Y/N? Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Soonyoung began waving the napkin in front of your face now and you finally recovered from your coughing fit as well as your tunnel vision on the men you had slept with. For fuck’s sake.

“Is there another exit?” you said through gritted teeth, grabbing the napkin from Soonyoung to shield your face with it. The male in front of you looked at you visibly confused.

“What- I don’t- I don’t think so, why?”

“Because the right side of the mind-map suddenly got a lot more complicated than anticipated,” you said and once Soonyoung understood, his eyes widened and he turned around, looking at what you had been earlier. Just that, obviously, he had no idea what those guys looked like until-

“Jisoo hyung?!”

You almost fell off your chair. Joshua looked over at your table, spotted Soonyoung and smiled widely – only for that smile to falter when he saw… you. To make matters even worse, Soonyoung was completely oblivious to what was happening, jumping up from his chair to hug Jisoo, Joshua, whatever, and made all his companions look your way. This wasn’t happening. You were dreaming, actually. It had to be a dream. A very stupid, idiotic, lousy dream.

But when Mingyu came over with a shit-eating grin on his face, flopping down on the free chair to your left, you knew very well this wasn’t a dream, but the sick reality of your ridiculous life.

“Now, now. Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he said, arm swung over your back rest. Speechless, that would be the perfect adjective to describe your current state. So speechless that you didn’t find any words or energy to reply to Mingyu.

“Soonyoung-ah, you look great, when did you get back?” Jisoo patted Soonyoung on the back, the smile back on his lips. You heard them talk mainly because there weren’t many other people around and you wished you could just evaporate right here and now and never come back.

“Only around a week ago, it’s so good to see you, hyung!” you really wondered how on earth Soonyoung survived in this world. How had he not put one and one together yet? How was he still happily chatting away with someone that had the same name as the person on the graph he had made to better understand your situation? You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, deciding to just let it happen. There was no way out anymore.

“Yes, you too, uhm, meet my friends! This is Jun, Minghao, Seungkwan and Jihoon and that guy over there is Mingyu.”

And scene. With every name Joshua said, Soonyoung’s smile dropped and instead made room for terror. Jun? Minghao? Seungkwan? Jihoon? Mingyu?!

“Oh fuck,” he said, his head flying over to you, you who was sitting on your chair with your forefinger and thumb pressed onto the bridge of your nose, eyes closed and frowning. And only now did it make sense because Jisoo’s English name was Joshua and you had slept with someone named Joshua and- shit. He was an idiot.

Sitting at a table with seven dudes that had fucked you was definitely not your ideal afternoon activity.

As it turned out, Seungkwan and Jun knew each other because Jun had taught Seungkwan Chinese a while back because the younger male had thought about going abroad for a semester. In the end it hadn’t worked out, but the two stayed friends and eventually Jun had introduced him to Minghao and then Mingyu and so forth. Jihoon, who hadn’t really said anything since he had sat down (“He has a pretty bad hangover, bear with him,” Mingyu had said with a grin, his arm still on the back of your chair. Menace), turned out to be a childhood friend of Joshua’s, who he had only recently gotten back into contact with, namely the university’s festival where you and Jihoon had slept together. For some reason you couldn’t quite figure out just yet, all of them had grown extremely close ever since then, the only one missing from the occasion was Wonwoo, who was currently at work, but who they’d meet up with for dinner.

“Crazy running into you here, it’s like coffee shops are just our thing,” Jisoo had said to you as he sat down, the smirk on his face so annoying you wanted to punch it right off. Jun had even greeted you with a hug, which had totally caught you off guard and Minghao had waved before sitting down and getting out his phone, all while Seungkwan had only stood there, seemingly glued to the floor with the tips of his ears crimson and the knuckles around his iced americano white from holding on too strong. He had finally sat down and only acknowledged you with a small bow of his head, which apparently was so out of character for him that all his friends began teasing him. Soonyoung tried to apologize with his eyes, but you had decided you hated him now, so you ignored him, staring at the table as if it was showing the latest episode of The Penthouse.

“So, how do you know each other?” Joshua was taking a sip from his iced coffee, looking from Soonyoung to you and back, Soonyoung well aware that he had to take over the speaking role. “We went to high school together,” he explained, eyes flickering from Joshua to you, “oh, and Jisoo hyung and I know each other from church. You know, the few months in senior year when my mum was super crazy about all of us going to church.”

That made you look up. Raising your brows, you stared at Joshua.

“You’re a church boy?” you asked, causing a grin to spread on his lips.

“Surprised?” he asked, leaning back. You only scoffed and grabbed your cup, taking another sip, but you didn’t even think about replying to him. Instead, you let your eyes wander through the coffee shop, looking at anyone but the people sitting around your table.

To say the situation was awkward was an understatement. You knew that the majority of them were well aware of your connection with them and it felt like you were about to suffocate. Things couldn’t have gone more wrong than this, really, there was no scenario worse than this. Unless, you thought, Wonwoo decided to show up with Seungcheol right behind him because those two were actually best friends since some summer camp or whatever. Quickly, you shook the thought off – you definitely weren’t going to jinx this now.

“As much fun as this is,” Mingyu said after a while of silence, “we just wanted to quickly grab a drink and then leave. We have some shopping to do and we’re meeting Wonwoo, as mentioned before.”

God, you hated him. Hated him so much you were sure there were actual daggers flying out your eyes when you looked at him. Not that he cared. He got up from his chair, the others following him and only then, after you had sat together for at least ten minutes, Jihoon finally took notice of you.

“Oh, Y/N, what are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows shot up in surprise. Everyone looked at him. You felt your jaw tense.

“I’ve been here the whole time, Jihoon-ah,” you mumbled back, and he slowly nodded.

“You know each other?” Seungkwan asked, and yet again it couldn’t have been worse.

“Oh, yeah, we hooked up at your university festival.”

Silence. As if the whole world had suddenly stopped. Seungkwan’s eyes widened, and you wished for his sudden extrovert self to go back to hell.

“You… you slept with her?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, doesn’t “hooked up” imply that?”

“Well, no, some people also just use that to say they met up with someone or just made out or something,” Joshua explained.

“Really? Well, in our case we did meet up and then made out and also had sex,” Jihoon nodded, looking from Joshua back to you, “it was fun.” You knew he was trying to make light of the situation, but he couldn’t have chosen a worse way. In fact, all of this was horrible and ridiculous and right now you really wished you had decided to stay in bed that morning.

“Interesting,” Mingyu nodded, a knowing grin on his face. You truly hoped he wouldn’t say anything else. Hoped none of them would speak out what probably everyone had figured out at this point. You watched as they all began to look at each other, their silent conversations making you want to rip out your hair and stuff it in each of their mouths.

“Well, then you better get going!” Soonyoung came to the rescue now, getting up and placing a hand on Joshua’s shoulder, “you seem to have a lot of things planned today, hyung.”

Maybe hating Soonyoung had been a bit of an overreaction. You smiled slightly as you watched them leave, ignoring Mingyu’s grin and only waving at Jun and Minghao, Seungkwan having already fled the scene and Jihoon now being shoved out of the door by Mingyu.

Soonyoung fell down onto the chair next to you, visibly defeated.

“I am so sorry,” he said, his hands clasped together, rubbing them up and down, his eyes big and round. You knew he meant it and as much as you wanted to punch him, you also knew he was just a victim of his own pea-sized brain. You waved him off and pulled a hand through your hair.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied finally, grabbing your cup to finish your drink. The urge to leave this place and never come back, having you gulp everything down in one go. Soonyoung watched you, still feeling incredibly stupid and guilty. How had he not reacted quicker?

“I told you not to worry,” you said again, giving him a small smile as you picked up your bag and got up. He immediately followed you.

“Y/N-,“ he began, but you waved him off.

“Soonyoung-ah, this must have been the most awkward moment of my life, alright? I have to go and, I don’t know, take a walk or drown myself in the Han River or my shower or… something. I’ll text you later.”

Defeated, Soonyoung nodded, watching you as you gave him one last smile before finally leaving the coffee shop.

That same evening you were in your apartment. Finally some alone time, you thought, just you and a bottle of wine and maybe an episode of your favorite drama before you fell asleep on the couch. You really weren’t asking for a lot. And if this hadn’t been your current life perhaps it would have worked out fine.

Right when your first glass was halfway emptied and the leads of your drama had just begun one of their in-famous fights – you suddenly heard a noise, more like a loud shattering of some sort, right outside your door. Your head yanked to the side right as your eyes widened and you quickly jumped up, worried that someone might have fallen or dropped something. Right when you swung open the door you saw that your second guess hadn’t been that far off. Not far from your door crouched a blonde-haired man, surrounded by what seemed like a million pieces of glass.

“Oh no, do you need help?” You asked, making the man aware of you being there. He turned his head to face you, and it took you a second to realize the obvious distress on his features, too distracted by how good-looking he was.

“That would be great, do you, uh, maybe have a broom?”

Together you gathered all the shards, a bit of small talk happening on the side. He had just moved in two doors down from you since his dormitory had had to shut down for the time being due to a broken water pipe. He had found the apartment by chance, incredibly lucky that it was within his price range and had now already succeeded in breaking decorative vases his mother had sent him.

“Well, at least there wasn’t any liquid involved. The carpets here soak up everything and then don’t stop smelling for a good three months,” you chuckled as you held open the trash bag you had gotten from inside. He laughed, nodding his head, and throwing some more of the shards into the bag. He was perfect. Perfect as a distraction from Seungcheol who hadn’t left your mind, perfect to be the next step closer to finally ending this challenge and you going back to your old life. You watched as he wiped off his hands on his jeans, looking around to see if you had missed anything, but deemed the floor shard free the next second.

“Thank you so much for your help,” he said then, looking back at you and you smiled, closing the bag.

“That’s what neighbors are for,” was your reply and he laughed, pulling a hand through his bleached mullet. God, whoever his hairdresser was needed a serious raise.

“Oh, I’m Chan by the way!” He seemed to only remember now that no names had been exchanged yet and you smiled brightly as you introduced yourself too.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, again, thank you so much, I would invite you inside for a coffee or something, but I’m meeting friends in like half an hour and-,”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, really! I was happy to help. And if you ever do want to invite me inside for a cup of coffee or something, you know where I live.”

Chan heard the innuendo in your voice. Or at least he thought he did. He felt his throat dry up and his heart gaining speed as he quickly tried to find an answer. But the way you were looking at him left his mind blank. Damn him for being a stupid man!

“Uh, oh, y-yes, yes, I do. Well, h-have a nice evening!” He hurriedly took the bag from your hand and was down the aisle and in front of his apartment faster than you could have probably said goodbye. Grinning, you walked back into your own apartment as well, sure that this one would once again be a piece of cake.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had vanished into thin air, as if he had just been a fragment of your imagination.

“He surely wasn’t fake,” Jiwoo said a week later, the two of you in your university’s cafeteria. You sighed, taking a sip from your coke.

“How do you know? Maybe I am getting so desperate I am starting to make hot guys up.”

Your best friend rolled her eyes and leaned back in her uncomfortable cafeteria chair.

“Now, that’s a little extreme, isn’t it?” She raised a brow at you, but all you did was shrug and put your chopsticks away.

“It’s not like you can’t just choose another hot guy to hook up with, y/n. There are plenty around here.”

“Yeah, and where did that get us when I slept with people from this school, Jiwoo-yah?” You crossed your arms. Jiwoo closed her mouth.

“I thought so,” you snorted before shaking your head, “no, honestly, he was perfect. He doesn’t go to this university, he is a freshman which makes him significantly younger than the rest of my guys and he was hot. Like, so hot, Jiwoo.” You put your head in your hands, sighing. Jiwoo chuckled.

“They were all hot. And since when are you into freshmen?”

“Just this one,” you replied through your hands and Jiwoo nodded, laughing again.

It really was a shame. You had really thought Chan would be easy, a walk in the park. You had imagined running into him on the hallway and asking him if he wanted to come in for some beer or soju or anything and then he would fuck you on your couch and done was it. Only three more to go. But no. Of course life didn’t come that easy to you anymore, you had already used up all your luck at the beginning of this idiotic challenge.

Jiwoo continued eating now, before she made a noise as if she had just remembered something.

“Oh, I forgot to mention!” She started just as you took your hands off your face and continued eating your fried vegetables, “my brother asked about you.”

A piece of fried broccoli landed in the wrong pipe, and you began coughing loudly. Jiwoo looked at you, clearly surprised.

“Are you okay?” She asked, bending forward a little. You nodded, quickly waving her off and grabbing for your coke to stop the coughing. Jiwoo frowned a little, but sighed after, clearly annoyed at her brother.

“Anyways, he just wanted to know how you were doing and told me you met on your way out from his party. You didn’t even tell me! Apparently, he needs someone to translate a few meetings with some German businessmen and he asked if you would be up for the job,” she scoffed, “I was like, what do you mean? Don’t you have translators at the company? And he said that, yes, he does, but maybe a college student could use the experience. You know, I was super annoyed at first because I thought he was, I don’t know, into you or something, but he genuinely seemed like he wanted to help you out.”

Your head was spinning listening to her, and your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, reminding you of how much you were actually thinking about him and how much you had no control over the way he still made you feel. His touch, the way he felt, how he tasted, sounded… it was all engraved in your brain and you feared you were never going to stop craving him, needing him. Gulping down your coke, you leaned back and bit down on your lip. He was right, that was a great opportunity for you. But then again, was there really a meeting or did he just want to see you? Was this an excuse?

“I- I mean, that is incredibly kind of him to offer,” you started slowly, not looking at her. Thoughts were still rummaging through your brain, thoughts you were scared to accidentally blur out and tell Jiwoo. You knew you shouldn’t go and see him again. There were already too many secrets you were keeping from Jiwoo. Up until now you hadn’t even told her about Soonyoung knowing, and him and you running into all the guys at the coffee shop. She was unaware of you and her brother, unaware of the lie you told her about having met some rich dude at a bar that night and how he had ended up taking you home. All in all, you weren’t being truthful to your best friend of many years for selfish horrible reasons and yet…

“I would love to help him,” you finally breathed out, feeling the excitement fill every cell of your body. Jiwoo seemed relieved.

“Oh, good! I, uh, kind of already told him you would,” her cheeks turned a very faint shade of pink. The excitement was now replaced by confusion.

“You did?”

“Yeah, uhm… there is a little more I should probably tell you.” She looked around and then leaned forward, her body language suddenly different. All of a sudden, she radiated energy that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but her face was showing signs of guilt. You blinked at her a few times feeling uneasy.

“What is it?”

“Well, uh, I met up with oppa a few days ago and we had drinks and during that he brought up the job and I said that you would love to do that and then uh, I kind of said that maybe there will be a hot German businessman you can seduce for our challenge.”

Deadbeat silence. Your ears felt as if someone had stuffed cotton into them. Oh no. Oh god no. You couldn’t do the job. There was no way in hell you could ever face him again. He was-

“Wait and even after that he still wanted me to do the job?” You couldn’t help yourself, the question needed to be asked! How could he still offer this when now he knew the actual reason you slept with him? He should be mad, furious even, not offer you a job.

“I mean, yeah,” Jiwoo seemed confused at your question, “sure, he told me that those men probably won’t be a fit for you, but he took it with humor, actually.”

With humor. That almost made you laugh. You stayed put, though. Of course he wouldn’t just get all angry with his sister, after all she hadn’t been responsible for your choice. Right now, you had to somehow stay calm and collected. Giving yourself away was not at all an option right now.

“Well, that’s good then. You can tell him that I’d love the opportunity.”

“You can tell him yourself, he told me to give you his number, here,” she reached over, a business card laying on the table in front of you the next second. You gulped down whatever lump was in your throat and put on a smile, grabbing the card.

“Awesome, I will do that later then!” you put the card in your bag and Jiwoo seemed satisfied enough to continue eating her food, humming happily. Okay, you needed to get out of here and call Seungcheol. Talk to him and explain yourself. You felt anxiety creep up your spine – what could he possibly think of you now? And what if he had even wanted to take back his invitation to work for him but because he didn’t want to seem too suspicious, he just continued acting like he actually wanted you around? There were too many mysteries in your head right now, mysteries you desperately needed to solve before going on with your day.

You somehow made it through lunch with Jiwoo and said your goodbyes, practically running out of the cafeteria and outside, the sun blinding you only for a second before you found yourself a bit of a secluded space next to the cafeteria building. It was a bit warmer today and you shoved your sleeves up your arm, taking out your phone and the business card next.

“Better to get this over with.” Feeling your heart speed increase, you took a deep breath and dialed the number on the card, preparing yourself for the worse.

It rang a few times before a man picked up the phone.

“Choi Seungcheol’s office, you’re speaking with Lee Seokmin, how can I help you?”

“Uh, hi, my name is Y/N. Mr. Choi told his sister to tell me that I should call him,” you sat down on the bench next to you, your leg beginning to move restlessly, teeth chewing on your bottom lip.

“Please hold,” Lee Seokmin now said and soon enough you found yourself in a queue with classical music playing. You sighed and started playing with the hem of your shirt, heartbeat already audible in your ears. As of right now, you still didn’t really know what you were going to say to him, you just knew you had to figure out what he was thinking. If he was even thinking about you. Which you of course would never assume. Right when your anxiety was about to skyrocket – the line clicked. And Seungcheol picked up.

“Y/N,” he said in his deep voice, and you swallowed hard, sitting up straighter.

“Seungcheol oppa, hi. Uh, Jiwoo told me to call you.”

“I see. I’m assuming this is about the job I offered?” Something was off about his voice. Yes, it was as deep as you remembered, but it also sounded somewhat strained. Or no, breathy.

“Yes, the job, that’s right,” you pulled a hand through your hair, “listen, oppa, I’m very grateful for this opportunity, but I was just wondering if you really – well, if you really want me to come work for you, after-,” you were interrupted by Seungcheol groaning. You froze on your spot.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N,” he said, and you could literally imagine him right now, “so, you slept with me because you and my sister have some childish challenge. Whatever. It’s not like it meant anything, isn’t that right? You said it yourself.”

His voice was still off. His breathing was off. It almost sounded as if-

“Oppa, what exactly are you doing right now?” Slowly, you got up from the bench, feeling yourself starting to shake.

“What? You can go and fuck twelve other dudes, but I can’t accept your call while a girl sucks my cock? That seems unfair to me, Y/N.”

Oh hell no. Your free hand balled into a fist and your nervosity changed into anger. Was he being serious right now? Sure, you had kind of figured he could be mad at you. Hurt, even. But this? Accepting your call while some girl was on his dick, talking to you this way? You hated to admit it, but it stung. Stung just the way it had back when Wonwoo had made his comment the other day. And suddenly it all came back to you. The repressed anger, all the frustration you had felt these past months. So much shit had happened, so many situations you had felt wronged in. The stress of completing this god forsaken challenge for no reason except your idiotic pride. It was suddenly all too much.

“You’re an asshole, Choi Seungcheol. For all I care, you can go fuck yourself, or any other girl on this planet, but don’t you dare ever try to speak to me again.” You hung up on him whilst still shaking and stuffed your phone back into your pocket, ready to go and skip your last class because there was no way in hell you were going to sit in a room with other people feeling like this. You had to calm yourself down, had to meditate or maybe throw around some plates, scream into your pillow.

But of course the universe had not picked you as it’s favorite – not today or ever – because when you grabbed your bag, ready to head home, you saw none other than Wonwoo walking over to you. His glasses slightly crooked on his nose, his hands nervously playing with the sleeves of his oversized shirt.

“Hey,” he said once he stopped in front of you, oblivious to your sour mood.

The fact there wasn’t any steam coming out of your ears right now was actually surprising. You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, waiting.

Wonwoo cleared his throat.

“Look, Y/N, what I said to you the other day was out of line, I should have never-,”

“Called me a slut?” and here we go. You took a step towards him, watching how his eyes widened slightly.

“I-,” he tried, but you cut him off.

“Because you did do that. You called me a slut for sleeping with other guys, Wonwoo. You couldn’t deal with it, you acted like a little boy who was mad he didn’t get his favorite candy at the store. I tried, Wonwoo, I tried to understand you, to be cautious of your feelings. Do you think I knew these guys were your friends? Yeah, I get that it sucks for you, and I am sorry about you finding out the way you did. But I don’t owe you anything. In fact, I don’t owe anyone anything and you slut shaming me for having sex with other guys, to hell with how many, is wrong and fucked up!”

As you spoke, you somehow backed Wonwoo up against the wall of the cafeteria building, his eyes even wider as you stopped, the corners of his mouth twitching once in a while, just like his eyebrows. He understood and knew that he had fucked up, that he had said something horrible to you. But this? Now it was his turn to ball his fists.

“I know all that! That’s why I came to you, Y/N. And you have every right to be upset with me, but… you tried to be cautious of my feelings? What is that even supposed to mean? I don’t need you to do that, I don’t need you to look out for me or my feelings, I’m not a baby even if you think I am! And you talking to me like this, yelling at me as if I hadn’t come here to apologize! Look, I’m sorry for saying what I did back then, I let my jealousy get the best of me and-,”

“And you have no right to be jealous! I never promised you anything, Wonwoo, I literally disappeared out of your life the second I got you to sleep with me, shouldn’t that have been sign enough that I’m not interested in you?!”

PANG. Your back hit the wall, as Wonwoo had you spun around, hands around your wrists, pinning them against the concrete. Your head hurt and so did your pride, trying to somehow loosen his grip on you, free yourself. It was no use. Wonwoo breathed hard, his eyes glinting behind the crooked glasses.

“Is that right? You weren’t interested?” He breathes, his nostrils flaring.

“Is that why you let me fuck you in the library, Y/N? Why you sucked my cock so prettily before the fashion show? Because you weren’t interested?” He was so close all of the sudden, his body pressing against yours. You felt everything inside you burn, even your skin. All of him was somehow too much and not enough at once, but your anger was still there, lingering inside of you and you sure as hell weren’t going to give in.

“Yeah, I wanted you to fuck me in the library, and I wanted to suck you off at the fashion show. Still doesn’t mean I am interested in you.” Now, you managed to push him off, ignoring the obvious hurt on his face.

“You-,”

“Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo. Seriously. Fuck your apology, I don’t wanna hear it.” Finally, you grabbed your bag from the ground as it had fallen down earlier, ignoring Wonwoo who still tried to speak to you. His voice was nothing but a humming in your ears, a static sound your brain wasn’t even registering anymore. He wasn’t important. Nothing was important but the deep rotting rage inside of you, the way all of your emotions had formed one big ball of fury that was now sitting right there in your chest. You needed to get away from Wonwoo, from Seungcheol (even though he was nowhere near you), from anyone here who had any kind of power over you.

Your apartment complex had never looked more inviting. Breathing exercises had done nothing to calm you down, not even your favorite chill playlist had helped. Seungcheol’s audacity and Wonwoo’s insult of an apology were still so fresh inside your head, your blood continuing to boil as you walked to the front door, typing in the code – only to catch a glimpse of a figure inside the elevator that had just stopped on the ground floor. Another person was exiting, which meant that they probably needed to catch something from their mailbox and that the figure was alone in the elevator.

Chan was leaning against the wall, his eyes meeting yours by chance. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt and white and black baggy pants, his blonde hair still in that delicious mullet. He wore some silver chains around his neck, hands buried inside the pockets of his pants. The anger within you grew because how could he show up after a week and look like this?!

Shoving open the door once it clicked, you made your way to the elevator, your whole body back to shaking.

“Oh! Y/N, long time no s-,” you shut him up by interrupting - screaming at - him.

“Where the fuck have you been?” You dropped your bag on the floor, standing right in front of him now your bodies almost touching. Chan’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised by your antics. He hadn’t been home much the past week, studying at the library almost every day when he wasn’t at the dance studio downtown getting some more practice in. Back when you had first met he had understood what you had meant, inviting yourself over for coffee next time, he wasn’t that oblivious. And of course, he had wanted to get to that… coffee as soon as he could, but as much as he was horny, he was ambitious. And now you were here, demanding to know where he was?

He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head at you slightly, tongue sticking out of his mouth just slightly, touching his teeth.

“Are you kidding?” He raised his brows, that singular motion making the ball of emotions inside of you grow even tighter.

“You disappeared,” you said, eyes on him, “as if you were avoiding me. Were you avoiding me?”

“Why would I?” Chan snapped back, your lungs suddenly finding it hard to breath. He wasn’t doing anything, he just stood there, and yet you felt just as furious with him as you had with Wonwoo. But before you could even reply, he took a step toward you, his chest now touching yours.

“Are you that insecure, Y/N? You flirt with a guy once and ask him for coffee or something and when he doesn’t come crawling to you right then, you think he’s not interested? Sounds a bit pathetic to me.”

You gasped, your hands about to cramp with how hard you were balling them once again.

“Excuse me?”

“Pretty sure you heard me,” he tilted his head, a smirk now appearing on his pretty lips. At this point you hadn’t even noticed the elevator moving up, hadn’t noticed the fact it had arrived at your floor. The doors opened and closed a couple of times as the two of you stared at each other. Chan still with the same smug smirk on his face, you fighting all the demons inside of you.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Not exactly knowing how, you still managed to talk back at him. He clicked his tongue, looking over at the doors, before looking back at you. Then, without notice, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around, a yelp escaping you when you felt yourself hit the wall of the elevator.

“Where the fuck I’ve been, hm? Well, I was in the library or in the dance studio, Y/N. Living my life, not thinking about the hot neighbor and how much I want him to fuck me, but I’m guessing you can’t relate to that, can you?” His voice was merely a whisper into your ear, hands digging into your sides, making you squirm.

“You-,”

“Now, now. You came onto me so rudely, Y/N, I don’t think you should be allowed to speak yet.” Chan leaned back a little, looking you up and down, licking over his lips. You felt two things at once: Absolute and utter want and the same anger and frustration from before.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” you finally breathed out, before shooting forward, hands on the sides of his neck as your lips crashed together, catching him off guard. Thankfully, Chan’s body reacted quicker than his brain, his arms now fully wrapped around your waist, kissing you back with the same force – or so he thought because the next thing he knew was you pushing him against the wall, a loud thumb echoing through the elevator as he groaned into the kiss. You were eager, or maybe just really mad at him. He was fine with both.

Your lips moved together in perfect sync, hands wandering, breaths getting stuck. All that pent up frustration inside of you slowly releasing. The two of you didn’t speak, instead he picked you up from the floor, your legs automatically wrapping around him as he carried you outside into your shared hallway, walking you over to his door, your lips latched onto his neck, sucking harshly determined to leave a mark. He swore under his breath as he put in his door code, pushing said door open the next second and bringing you inside. He let one hand wander from the back of your thighs to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair to pull you away from his neck and instead kiss you again, his tongue finding yours right away. He let you down then, both of you kicking your shoes off before going further inside. In any other situation you might have noticed the way his apartment was the same shape and size as yours, his bedroom right where yours was. You might have noticed the art he had hung up on the walls, the green velvet couch, the black carpet, the family picture on the end table. You didn’t notice anything though, too busy with chasing his lips, your hands already underneath his shirt helping him to get it off. It felt like a movie, the way you two left trails of your clothes from the entrance way to the bedroom, shirts and pants, socks and finally underwear, as he got rid of your bra right when you stepped inside the bedroom. His hands were on your ass, mouth latched onto your right nipple, your head thrown back as you moaned. Your own hands were in his hair, pushing him closer to you, the feeling of his tongue twirling around your stiff bud just too good. Somehow from the first moment you had seen him you had been sure he would be good with his tongue, with his hands. He looked like a guy who liked to please and at this point you kind of needed him to do exactly that.

“You’re greedy, aren’t you?” he whispered against you, as he moved up, his breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. You shook your head, back to grabbing his face and pulling him up.

“Shut up,” was all you could say before kissing him again, his cocky chuckle making you want to push him down onto the bed and give him absolutely nothing until he begged you to. Too bad he had a different idea. His arms wrapped back around you, picking you up and finally putting you down onto the bed, where he now crawled between your legs, letting his tender fingers caress your hips and stomach. His eyes were on you, watching you while you felt your pussy beginning to throb, your fingers now grabbing the sheets. He was way too hot right there between your legs, a smirk on his pretty lips, fingers getting dangerously closer to your thong. Impatience was now mixed with the already existing frustration, and you groaned wiggling your hips. Chan licked his lips as he titled his head.

“Eager, greedy, and impatient? I really brought a brat into my bed.”

“Whatever, just do something!” Your whine only made him chuckle again. Shaking his head, Chan brought his fingers down, index now sliding over your clothed lips. His eyes wandered from your face to your core, his dick straining against his briefs as he continued his tease, your whines only getting louder. Chan decided to ignore you. Instead, he bent down, kissing you over your underwear, tongue shooting out and slowly licking over your slit, your head beginning to spin. Why the hell wasn’t he taking off your underwear, why would he just-

“So, so wet. And cute, look at your cute little cunt,” his breath against you was driving you insane. All of him was driving you insane. You were about to argue with him again, when you finally felt him pull your panties to the side, his mouth devouring you right then. You moaned, back arching at his touch, eyes closed shut. You had been right with your assumption – he was good with his mouth. His tongue drew circles on you, before licking all the way down to your entrance and back up, lips now closing around your clit, sucking on it harshly. Stars were already beginning to form in front of your eyes, heat spreading all throughout you as your hips couldn’t help but rock against his face. He wasn’t bothered by it, instead he continued his spiel, tongue now flicking against you, causing your back to lift off the bed. Something about the way he touched you was so sensual and intimate it made your toes curl. Obviously, you had had your fair share of sex these past few months and you wouldn’t go as far as to compare any of them, but you could definitely appreciate the way Chan was handling you right now.

Nevertheless, you had approached him with pent up frustrations, and you needed him to fuck that out of you as soon as possible.

“Chan…,” you moaned when he began kissing the insides of your thighs instead of moving further, “please fuck me, I really, really need you to fuck me.”

There it was again. That god damn chuckle. Cocky and so arrogant. Chan slowly moved up now, his hands catching yours and pinning them over your head. Your eyes widened when you felt his hard cock against your core.

“I know you do, Y/N. But bad girls don’t get rewarded. They get punished.”

He flipped you over as if you weighed nothing. You squeaked; your face now pressed into one of his pillows trying to squirm underneath him, but it was no use. Only one of his hands held down your wrists now, while the other tugged on your thin panties and (this had become a theme in your hook-ups apparently) ripped them off of you.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” the softness of his fingertips was right there on your bare ass, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. You did as told still shaking with want and let out a breathy moan when his fingers slid between your folds, coating them in your arousal and finally sinking into you. Chan did not leave you hanging, his fingers moving quick and hard once you had adjusted to them – all whilst he remained calm, watching you on your stomach, your face sheltered by your own hair. If he was honest it took everything in him not to just get his cock out and fuck you stupid, but he had a plan. He was going to get you even more riled up. He was going to make you feel as if the only cure to your so obvious frustrations was him. You were going to beg him soon, beg him to fuck you, to give you his cock. Smirking down at you, he quickened his pace, your small moans music to his ears.

“So good for me, so obedient. What do you say, should I make you cum with my fingers, hm?” You nodded, not able to move much with his hand still holding your down. You needed the release, sure you would feel more at ease with everything once that stress left you through one sweet climax – just that Chan wasn’t exactly going to make it easy for you. Instead of continuing to fuck you with his fingers, he pulled out of you, the feeling of emptiness almost bringing tears to your eyes.

“Chan!”

He ignored you, both of his hands now on your hips, shoving you up and forward, leaving you on all fours, causing you to yelp once more. Chan didn’t give you any time to react more as he moved quickly behind you, suddenly his face next to yours, his hand opening the drawer in his bedside table. You followed his movements and saw what he pulled out. A condom (a first for you after quite some time) and… a red tie. Your eyebrow twitched up.

“What are you-,” you began, but Chan was once again quicker than you, grabbing your hands and making you fall over with another surprised scream, your ass up in the air and your hands now tied together by the red tie.

“Bad girls don’t get rewards, Y/N, they get punished,” he repeated as he finished the knot around your wrists and moved to carefully shove your hair out of your face. You glared up at him. He just innocently smiled down at you, caressing your cheek.

Heartbeat in your ears and between your legs, you watched how he leaned down, his eyes fixed on yours, lips finding your shoulder. He moved down to kiss along your back, every touch making your body explode with more emotions. He was soft, warm. But right now, you wanted more, you wanted him to be hard, cold even, wanted him to fuck all of these emotions out of you. And only when his hands were back on your hips and his lips were on your lower back did you realize what he was doing. He knew exactly what you wanted; he just wasn’t going to give in that easily. You groaned, trying to sit up, but it wasn’t possible, not with the way he had positioned your arms and tied your wrists together. You were right under his control, and he was going to have his way with you.

“Chan…,” you cried out, desperation slowly but surely taking you over. But once again, he acted like he didn’t hear you. Instead, he continued his plan, his hands now on your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and almost drooling at the sight of your perfectly wet pussy. Licking his lips he dashed forward, his tongue soon diving into you, catching you off guard.

“Fuck!”, you breathed into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as you felt your body react to the way he made you feel. Sweat starting to form on your forehead, your hips moving against him until he stopped you with his strength. There was no talking, no trying to tell you off, but instead he kept going, mouth on your core as if he had been starving for weeks. And perhaps this was true, considering he had been craving you since that day you had helped him in the hallway. He had been so mesmerized by you, by your aura and the way you seemingly just took what you wanted. And today his suspicion had been confirmed. Just thinking about the way you had talked to him earlier, the fire in your eyes… it made him dig his hands deeper into your skin and suck even harsher on your clit.

“Ch-Chan, pl-please!” you were so close, felt all of the nerves in your body awakening, burning, and screaming for more. You don’t know how he did it, but you also didn’t care – you just didn’t want him to stop. But right before he got you there, before you could scream in pleasure, thank all the gods for this gift – he stopped. Leaning back on his ankles and wiping his mouth with one of his hands. Your body began to shake once again, your eyes opening and your throat letting out a dry sob.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you close, baby?” Chan smirked knowingly; one hand now placed on your right butt cheek.

“What the fuck?” you somehow croaked out, managing to lift your head up enough to see him. It was unfair how perfect he looked. Defined torso, the silver chains still around his neck, blonde mullet adjourning his pretty face just in the right way. He looked so familiar for some reason, and you moved your hips again, trying to get him to notice how much you needed him to finish what he started. But Chan had a different plan.

Looking at you from this angle was something he was sure he could do for another two hours at least, but he knew he couldn’t wait that long to give in to what he knew both of you wanted. Still, he also wasn’t going to give in already. With a smooth movement, he turned you back to face him, your hands still tightly knotted above you. Your eyes found his, hunger and want so clear in his face as he looked over your body, taking in every inch of your perfect skin. He shuffled a little closer, kneeling in between your legs again and caught you off guard when he grabbed your thighs and hooked them around his waist. You moaned, his hard cock behind his briefs now smug in between your lips, a whimper leaving you when he moved his hips just a tiny bit. The friction was too much and not at all enough. Tears began prickling in your eyes when he leaned forward, his breath hitting your cheek the same time as he rocked his hip against you a second time.

“So desperate for release, aren’t you?” he whispered into your ear, before kissing the spot right underneath, his hips now continuously thrusting against yours, his cock getting harder with every second. He kissed and licked your neck, the dry humping hard on him just the same, and you noticed how he struggled by the way he kissed you, the way he grabbed your face and moved his lips so he could crash them against yours. His tongue found yours quickly, the sudden rise of temperature and his own impatience obvious. You wanted to touch him, drag your nails across his back, leave marks for everyone to see, for yourself to see and be reminded of this.

“Wanna touch you, Chan-ah,” you breathed into the kiss, your legs tightening around his waist, your own now circling against him. He groaned, kissing you hard again, fingers clasping your chin and your teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Judging by his reaction he loved it, his free hand now on your left tit, squeezing it hard as his movements became even quicker.

“Want to touch you, scratch down your back, Chan, please, want you to fuck me, make me scream your name, shit, please.”

Lord, never had Chan wanted to let go of his plans as much as right now. His determination to make you beg repeatedly was slowly dying. Wasn’t this enough already? You this desperate? Did he have to go further, when it was so clear you just wanted him to finally sink into you?

“Shit,” he cursed now, parting from you and looking down, his chains dangling right above your chest and, god, did you want to grab them and pull him down, kiss him until your lips couldn’t do it anymore. He once again licked his lips, hands framing your face, sliding up to your hands.

“Don’t do anything stupid, sweetheart. Got it?” His voice was stern, but his eyes were full of need. You nodded, sure you weren’t going to try anything, considering you just wanted him to fuck you. Everything else had passed. Chan continued to get rid of the tie then, ripping it off your wrists five seconds later.

Everything happened in a perfect blissful blur. He kissed you again just as your hands moved to his back, nails already digging into it as he began to thrust again, his cock so hard you felt like it was about to leave bruises on your lips.

“Chan, please, please fuck me, god, please!”

The man’s head was spinning. This had been in his head, this had been what he wanted. You had given him exactly that. How on earth were you this perfect? He nodded, quick to move back and get rid of his briefs, your legs momentarily leaving his waist. You watched as he got out his cock, watched the precum drip onto his blanket, your mouth watering. But there was no time to suck him off, you craved something else right now. Your shot forward, making that fantasy from before a reality as you grabbed his necklace, pulling him into as kiss as your hand wrapped around his cock, skillfully jerking him off.

“Holy fuck,” Chan breathed out into your mouth, blindly reaching for the condom he had taken from the bedside table earlier. You watched him rip it open, parting from him for a small while, hand still around his cock, pussy throbbing for him, eyes glued to his hands that now moved to roll on the condom. You laid back down, chest heaving. There was no way you could take your eyes off him, of the way his shoulders moved, the way his gaze showed so many emotions at once. He looked ethereal like this, like an angel sent straight down from heaven just to have sex with you. Biting down on your lip you now watched as he grabbed one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist just like before. Your excitement grew with every second, your arousal dripping onto the sheets at this point. Chan swallowed hard when he grabbed the base of his cock, finally lining himself up with you. He didn’t think he had ever wanted to fuck someone as bad as you right now.

Once his tip breached you, you breathed out hard, fingers back to digging into the sheets. Maybe watching him like this would be enough to get you off. Sweat already visible on his chest, the pleasure visible on his features as he sunk into you deeper.

“Fucking hell, god damnit-,” Chan grabbed your other leg, wrapping it around himself too, nails digging into your flesh. You groaned, back arching when you felt him inside you completely, his cock stretching you out, your walls hugging him tightly. He now leaned down, eyes boring into yours.

“You wanted to scratch my back, darling. Make that come true, won’t you?” he said with his deep voice, and you swallowed hard before nodding, your hands on his back. When he did his first thrust, you already knew this was not going to last long for you. He simply felt too good. Kissing you again, he continued thrusting, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Moaning, you threw your head back, the kisses moving onto your neck. He was full on fucking into you now, every movement perfect as if calculated. With every second that passed, you felt yourself nearing your orgasm, the desperately needed stress relief. Your nails were actually leaving marks on his back now, the pain shooting straight into his cock as he quickened his pace, face buried into your neck now, his moans reaching your ears making you clench around him.

You were perfect. He could just say it over and over again in his head. Every inch of you was sexy and made him want you more, his cock feeling like it was at home right there inside of you. The wet heat of your pussy making him see a whole new universe behind his eyes.

Picking up the pace again, he sat up, your hands dropping down to his ass, pushing him even closer, Chan’s head now falling backwards as he fucked into you at a new angle.

“How are you this perfect, fuck, you’re so good for me, such a good baby, shit,” Chan’s voice was breathy and hot, and you bit your lip, wishing this moment wouldn’t end because looking at him felt like a privilege. And it was because you knew you couldn’t do this again. You had to stay true to your newly made rule.

“Chan, I’m so close,” you cried out then and he reached down, thumb pressing down on your clit, eyes studying you as you practically screamed, his cock hitting you right there and the pressure on your clit…

“Come for me, sweetheart, wanna see you come on my cock so fucking bad,” his voice, mixed with the way his chest glistened in sweat and the movements of his hips brought you over the edge. You let out something like a squeak, not sure what the hell was happening when all of a sudden your whole body shook and your back arched from the bed, fingers digging into his lower back as you came hard, Chan fucking you through it – only to be surprised the next second. His eyes widened when he felt the wetness, when he saw the big stain forming underneath you, juices dripping down your body.

“Oh my g-god, fu-fuck,” Chan’s eyes rolled back just then, the thought of you squirting on his bed quick to make him spill all of his cum into the condom in three seconds.

“Chan!” you called out his name when you felt him twitch inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm making its way through you. Exhaustion and satisfaction filled your mind just then, Chan now collapsing on top of you, cock still smugly buried inside you. He felt like he hadn’t cum this hard ever, really.

You stayed like this for a bit, both of you too exhausted to actually move. It was nice though, feeling him this close, smelling his scent and knowing this was what he smelled like after sex. Your head felt like it was full of clouds, cotton even.

“Feeling more relaxed now, hm?” Chan lifted his head, his smirk from before traded to an honest and cute smile that made you smile too.

“Yeah… sorry about that,” you chuckled, but he shook his head and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Please, there is nothing to apologize for, Y/N,” he said, his happy smile turning even wider. You caressed his face, kissing him softly, before looking down and back at his face. He understood. Giving you the cutest nervous laugh ever, he rolled off of you and sat up, eyes widening again at the stain you had left. Clearing your throat you also sat up, your elbows propped up behind you.

“Uh, sorry about that?” You grinned, but Chan shook his head rapidly again.

“God no, that was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me, Y/N.”

Giggling, you managed to sit up completely, watching Chan take off the condom and tying it shut.

“Hold on, I’ll get you something to clean up!” He said as he got up from the bed, hurrying to the bathroom you figured was right where yours was. Only now did it click that fucking your neighbor might not have been the best decision, considering you didn’t intend to do it again. You let out a small sigh, pulling a hand through your hair and getting up from the bed. When your feet hit the floor you felt a bit dizzy, probably courtesy to the intense orgasm you just had.

Chan came back a moment later, handing you a wet towel with a warm smile. He also carried a fresh shirt that he put on his desk chair and his own frame was now adorned by a new pair of briefs. You thanked him for both the towel and the shirt and cleaned your thighs, watching how he already began to get the sheets of his bed. You felt your cheeks heat up. This hadn’t been your first time and yet… it always left some bit of shame inside your stupid head. Shaking the thought off, you looked at Chan who looked as if he knew exactly what you had been thinking. He threw the dirty sheets into the laundry basket next to his closet and walked over to you after, his hands grabbing yours.

“Y/N,” he began, “I am assuring you, this was absolutely fine, Jesus, even more than fine! I loved it, it literally made me cum. Like, instantly! This isn’t a bad thing, this is normal and amazing and yeah it stains sheets and maybe even mattresses but so what!” He was so incredibly cute, you couldn’t help but kiss him. One hand on his face, the other still wrapped in his. Chan was only caught off guard for a second before he kissed you back, melting into your touch.

Stop this right now, you sick, sick girl!

You parted from him right away. The voice in your head really had the perfect timing.

“I should go to the bathroom,” you quickly said, squeezing his hand and finally grabbing the shirt from the chair and pulling it over your head (Chan felt like dying when he saw you in his clothes). You walked out of the bedroom and to the bathroom, peeing and washing your hands and face, looking at yourself for only a second before going back out – this time allowing yourself to roam the room. Now you noticed the couch and the carpet, the art and the end table. And the family picture on the end table. Without thinking much about it, you reached for it, the smile that had formed on your lips when you saw a younger Chan with a funky haircut next to his parents faded when you caught a glimpse of the other younger male standing next to, probably, their mother.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you breathed out.

header credit: @playmetheclassics

#challenge me au #svt x reader #ot13 x reader #dino x reader #chan x reader #svt smut #dino smut #chan smut #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfiction #svt au #seventeen x reader #svt fic #chan fanfiction #dino fanfiction

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godslino · 2 months

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WIP wednesday!

please enjoy a snippet of this very unnecessary second chance exes fic with chan. this is gut-wrenching stuff people, i have to keep taking breaks while writing. hopefully she’ll be out sometime soon 🫶

#wip wednesday #wips #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #bang chan angst #chan angst #bang chan fanfiction #chan fanfiction #bang chan imagines #chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #bang chan #stray kids #skz #godslino

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kjmsupremacist · 10 months

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poison sweet off the vine (chan/felix)

Chan, a poor student hoping to make a little extra money while he pursues a masters in music production, lands a gig as a super rich family’s pool boy. He thinks it’s pretty sweet at first. He’ll get to stay in a fancy house and eat fancy leftovers and all he has to do is clean their pool and help out around the house. And then he meets Felix, the bratty, sharp-tongued, skirt-wearing son of his employers. He knows he could get fired for just looking at Felix the wrong way, but Felix, even with his stormy, unpredictable moods and ignorant selfishness, is alluring and beautiful.

Part 2 | prev next mlist

Characters: Chan, Felix, other members of skz throughout

Genre: smut, eventual romance, angst, I cannot overstate how much of this is sex

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: alcohol, family dysfunction, mentions of homophobia, slut-shaming (both the fun kind and the not fun kind), feminization

Rating: Explicit

Length: 14.3k

Felix has got some shit going on in this one. It’s not, like, super serious and we don’t really get into addiction territory, but I will say it might be triggering for some people, so please just proceed with caution.

Chan wakes to his phone ringing.

He grunts sleepily, turning over in bed and getting twisted in his sheets. He manages to wrestle an arm free and slaps around for his phone, nearly knocking it into the abyss that is the floor in the process. At last, he grips it and brings it in front of his face.

It’s horrendously bright and stings his poor, sleepy eyes, but he makes out the caller ID—Lee Minho.

“Hello?” he croaks, accepting the call.

“Oh good, I’m still in your favorites,” Minho says in lieu of a greeting. “And good, you’re still not dead.”

“What fucking time is it?” Chan groans.

“About five a.m. for you, so four for me,” Minho answers promptly. “You haven’t texted for three days! I was kind of worried those rich fuckers murdered you and are slow-roasting your body for Christmas dinner.”

“Why the fuck are you up at four a.m.?” Chan asks, choosing to ignore the comment about cannibalism.

“Calling you,” Minho says. “Look, I figured during the day you’d keep your phone on silent, and wouldn’t pick up no matter what. But at night, you probably have your ringer on for your alarm, and though it might be on DND, as long as I’m still one of your favorites, my call will come through on the second try.”

“I’m taking you off my favorites,” Chan says, though he makes no move to do so.

“So why haven’t you texted?”

Chan pauses for a second, running the past couple days over in his head. He and Felix have been fucking every chance they can get—after dinner in Felix’s room, in the sauna by the pool, even once in the garden, Felix pressed up against a very expensive statue.

There’s a soft knock at the door. Chan shuffles to get it while he replies to Minho. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. This job is just—super active, you know, I’m exhausted every day.”

He cracks his door open and sees Felix in a robe standing expectantly outside. Chan gives him a sort of surprised and confused look, pointing at the phone, but gestures for him to come in, opening the door wider so he can slip through.

“Okay, well, your best friend worries,” Minho is saying, “and so does your best friend’s boyfriend, so maybe text us at least once a day.”

“Oh, I see,” Chan says, dropping back down onto the bed with his legs dangling off the side and patting the mattress for Felix to join him. “You just called me because Jisung is worried, and you love him. Not ‘cause you’re actually concerned about me.”

“I am concerned about you,” Minho says. Felix doesn’t sit on the bed. He settles between Chan’s knees at his feet. Chan gives him a look; Felix blinks back serenely. “Jisung’s just… more teary about it, and I’m the only one that’s allowed to make him cry, so.”

Felix’s hands are on Chan’s thighs. “I promise I’ll text more from now on,” Chan says.

“Good. So what’ve you been up to?” Minho asks.

Felix’s fingers slip under the waistband of Chan’s underwear. “Uh, not much,” Chan says. “Hey, listen, I should probably just go, like, do my job since I’m up. It gets hot in the afternoons. But get Jisung, and Jeongin if you can, and I’ll call later today. Like around 5 your time?” Minho groans. “C’mon, it’ll be nice if we can all talk.” He freezes when Felix reaches into his fucking pants and wraps a hand around his cock. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too strained. “Besides, you should be asleep.”

“Fine,” Minho grumbles. “It’ll make Jisung happy.”

“Okay, talk later, I promise.” Felix has pulled Chan’s cock out over his waistband. “Bye.”

“Bye.” The call barely ends before Felix has his mouth on Chan.

Chan throws his phone somewhere on his bed and hisses out a moan. “What the fuck, Felix?” Felix doesn’t reply except to hum softly around Chan’s cock. “I was talking to my friend!” Felix takes him deeper, swirling his tongue over the tip. Chan presses his hand to his mouth to muffle a moan. “What if someone saw you?” he tries again.

This gets Felix to pull off, and Chan squashes his disappointment under his thumb. “No one saw me,” Felix says. “Abeoji is already gone, and Eomma was in the shower.”

“What if she goes to check on you before she leaves?” Chan asks. He takes the sting out of the question by reaching down and cupping Felix’s jaw. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, baby.”

“She’s not gonna check on me,” Felix says. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t care or come looking.” He huffs softly, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. “Now are you gonna let me blow you, or what?”

Chan laughs quietly. “‘Course I am,” he says. “You were just trying to surprise me, right?”

Felix nods petulantly, sinking back down on him, little hands braced on Chan’s thighs for support. Chan combs his fingers through Felix’s hair, getting a good fistful of the pink locks and tightening his grip—not enough to hurt, just enough for Felix to feel it. Felix hollows his cheeks and takes him even deeper, his face practically buried between Chan’s legs.

“Mm, god, Lix, does it ever stop for you?” Chan whispers. Felix shakes his head. “You just woke up and your first thought was, ‘I should go choke on Chan’s cock’?” Felix nods. “Jesus.” He brushes his own hair back with his other hand. “Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it properly.”

He forces Felix’s head down a little, and Felix swallows around him, gagging softly, but he doesn’t resist. His eyes flutter shut as he takes Chan deeper still, until Chan feels the head of his cock hit the back of Felix’s throat. He stops then, giving Felix a second to adjust. “Good girl,” Chan murmurs, and Felix whimpers softly. “Can’t believe how well you take me.” He reaches down and smoothes his thumb over Felix’s pinched eyebrows. “Breathe, baby. Relax. I’m gonna fuck your throat, right?”

Felix does as he’s told with a nod, breathing in deep through his nose, melting against Chan’s body. His grip on Chan’s thighs loosens, and he swallows around Chan again, this time without gagging. He looks up at Chan, pretty eyes wide and inviting.

“Ready?” Chan asks. Felix gives a minuscule nod. “Pinch me if you need to stop.” Felix rolls his eyes; Chan gives him an exasperated look in return, tightens the fist in Felix’s hair, and first pulls him off, then pushes him back down.

Felix can take a lot. Chan learned that quickly. But still, it amazes him how quietly and easily he can deepthroat Chan. And Chan’s a realist, he knows he’s sort of just average size, but it’s not like he’s small. He shoves his cock down Felix’s throat and the only noise that comes is the wetness of the thick saliva that has gathered in Felix’s mouth. It takes a long minute or two before Felix starts gagging, but even then he doesn’t ask Chan to stop.

A sort of haze gathers in Chan’s peripheral, and he forces himself to pull out. Felix coughs wetly, panting, as Chan jerks himself off with quick, rough strokes. He realizes Felix has started to cry, but Felix only swipes the tears away and tips his head back, opening his mouth. “Wanna taste you, daddy,” he demands, voice hoarse. He sticks his tongue out, making his eyes big and pleading.

Chan curses softly and lays the head of his cock on Felix’s tongue with shaking hands. “Gonna make me—” He can’t even finish the sentence, too overwhelmed, but Felix knows. It only takes a couple more strokes, and he’s coming on Felix’s tongue, coating the roof of his mouth with his release.

Felix doesn’t try to swallow until Chan finally pulls out, and once he does he opens his mouth after to prove he did it.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Chan murmurs, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. “Come here, baby, up on the bed with me. I’ll take care of you.”

Felix lets Chan pull him up onto the mattress and manhandle him into his lap. Chan scoots them back, rotating so he can lean up against the headboard. Felix hardly seems to pay this any mind, already attaching his mouth to Chan’s chest, kissing over his collarbones.

Chan undoes the sash of Felix’s robe, and he shrugs it off, letting the fabric slip away, revealing his pretty body. Chan can see his cock, tip beading precome, glistening even in the dark. He tries not to think about how there’s probably a dark wet stain on one of the folds of Felix’s robes.

“Baby,” Chan whispers, taking hold of Felix’s chin and forcing him to look up. “There you are.” He leans in and kisses him, letting go of his jaw so he can wrap his arms around Felix’s waist instead, pulling him in. He can taste himself on Felix’s tongue, earthy and bitter. Felix moans into his mouth, rolling his hips up, his cock dragging against Chan’s abs.

“Mm, I, I,” Felix says between kisses. “I fingered myself open b-before I came down here. Used lots of lube, so—” Chan nips at his lip and he cuts himself off to gasp. “—so I’m nice ‘n’ wet. You can—you can finger me, daddy, please.”

“Fuck,” Chan mutters, letting one hand dip down low, circling Felix’s entrance. He’s slick with lube, just like he said, and two of Chan’s fingers slip in with ease. Chan can picture it clearly, Felix on his elbows and knees, panting quietly in the pre-morning blue dark of his room, working himself open and making sure every spot he can reach is wet and ready before clambering off his bed and wrapping himself in his robe to come down and wake Chan up.

“Told you, I’ll keep myself prepped for you,” Felix says breathily.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Chan accuses.

“No, I’m not into necrophilia,” Felix replies immediately.

“I hate you,” Chan mutters, suppressing a smile. He shoves a third finger in and presses up. Felix drops his forehead to Chan’s shoulder, making a noise of surprise. Chan thrusts his fingers up again, hot satisfaction settling under his skin when he feels more precome blurt out of the tip of Felix’s cock and drip down onto Chan’s stomach.

“Yes, yes,” Felix pants. “Like that, daddy, yes.” He rocks his hips up, and if Chan hadn’t literally just come, he knows he’d be in danger.

He fingers Felix fast and ruthless, holding him close with his other arm and murmuring praise into his ear. Felix digs his fingernails into Chan’s biceps, bouncing back on Chan’s fingers, rutting his cock up against Chan’s body. His moans are quiet—even he knows what they’re doing is a little risky—but the sounds fill Chan’s head anyway.

“Such a perfect little slut,” Chan coos. “Always wanting to be filled, trying to get off. What am I gonna do with you, babygirl?”

Felix whines softly, biting down on Chan’s pec, low enough that a tank top will easily cover it. Chan sees the muscles in his back tense. He rarely announces it when he’s going to come—Chan almost wonders if it’s a surprise to him each time, except he can’t imagine that’s true—but Chan’s getting pretty good at figuring him out.

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” he murmurs, leaning close and speaking into Felix’s temple. Felix nods jerkily. “Gonna come on daddy’s fingers? Lemme see it, baby.”

Felix lets out a soft, defeated sob, and then he’s coming all over Chan’s stomach, hole clenching and unclenching around Chan’s fingers. “Fuck, oh fuck, daddy, daddy,” he babbles, muffled. It takes over his whole body; he shakes, toes curling in the sheets, fingers and arms rigid. At last he collapses against Chan, right into the mess he just made.

Chan pulls his fingers out, reaching with his other hand for the box of tissues on his nightstand. He presses kisses to the top of Felix’s head while he cleans off his fingers, then reaches down to swipe away the excess around his hole. Felix whimpers softly.

“Sore?” Chan murmurs. “Sorry, just don’t want you to walk out of here with lube dripping down your thighs.”

Felix moans happily. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, I would,” Chan says, pinching his hip.

“Mmm,” Felix hums. “Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Oh fuck, is that today?” Chan asks. “I was wondering what this was all about.”

Felix sits back, reaching for a tissue too so he can clean off his tummy. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m going to be totally booked all of tomorrow with family stuff. Tonight too. Such a drag.”

Chan nudges him. “You’ll get presents, at least,” he points out. “And it’s just a couple days. I think you can survive without my dick for that long.”

“What if I can’t?” Felix asks, but he’s grinning.

“Then you know where to find me,” Chan replies, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Felix drapes his arms over Chan’s shoulders and kisses back with a sweet sigh.

“Who was that on the phone?” Felix asks when they pull away.

“Oh,” Chan says, glancing around to see his phone balancing precariously at the foot of the bed. “My friend from home. Just wondering why I hadn’t texted for the past couple days. Worried I was murdered or something.”

“Just a friend?” Felix asks.

Chan frowns at him. “Uh, yeah, just a friend. What are you, jealous? I don’t ask who else you might be fucking.”

Felix sighs. “I was just wondering.” He pats around behind him and finds his robe, drawing it up over his shoulders.

Chan feels bad for snapping at him. It was just a question. “Sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Would it be a problem, if he wasn’t just a friend?”

“No,” Felix says, but it’s curt.

“Baby, you can talk to me, you know?” Chan tries to reach up and touch his face, but Felix ducks away, expression souring.

“I said no. It’s fine,” he says. He climbs off Chan’s lab, tossing the soiled tissue in the garbage and bending to pick up his sash. “I’m going back to bed to get some more sleep,” he says as he fastens it. “It’s almost six, so you should probably head to breakfast before Maya leaves for the day. Our private chef won’t cook for you like she does.”

Right, Christmas. Maya will be off at around ten today and won’t be back until the day after Christmas. It’s just going to be Chan and the chef for the holiday.

“Yeah, okay,” Chan agrees uncertainly. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Felix says, pausing to give Chan a swift kiss before sweeping out of the room.

“Merry Christmas,” Chan whispers to the closed door.

* * *

“Chan!” Jisung picks up on the first ring, even though Chan called Minho’s phone. “I miss you, how are you?”

“Hey Jisung,” Chan replies, grinning. “I’m good. I miss you too. All of you. Am I on speaker?”

“Yes,” Minho calls, sounding a little faint, like he’s across the room.

Chan finished his chores early and decided to take a walk around the neighborhood for this call. He’s not sure yet exactly how much he’s going to tell his friends, but he definitely wants to talk somewhere where he can’t be overheard.

“Hi Chan!” This is Jeongin. “We’re at Minho’s parents’ house for a Christmas party! We’re hiding out in Minho’s bedroom with the cats while all the grown-ups deal with the food.”

“So what have you been up to?” Minho asks, sounding much closer to the phone now. “I refuse to believe you’ve just been working. How’s Australia?”

“It’s good to be back,” Chan says. “And it’s hot.”

“It’s so weird to me that Christmas is in the summer there,” Jeongin says. “It fucking snowed here last night.”

“Sounds nice,” Chan says, wiping some sweat off his forehead. “It’s literally brutal here.”

“So, seriously, you’re just sweating your balls of cleaning some rich family’s pool, and that’s it? Do you get time off?” Minho resumes grilling him. “School hasn’t started yet, so you can’t be that busy.”

“You guys are alone?” Chan confirms.

“Yes, we are,” Jisung says. “What, what is it?”

“So, uh.” Chan scratched the back of his head, looking around to make sure he’s alone on the street. “Well, this family has a couple of kids, right, and they’re all around our age. The son, Felix, he’s the same year as you, Jisung. And…” Chan hesitates, not sure how to explain.

“Oh my god,” Minho says loudly. “Oh my god, Chan, are you fucking him?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Chan mutters, and then has to hold his phone away from his ear as his friends erupt into shrieks of shock.

Jeongin: “Hyung, you’re gonna get fired.”

Jisung: “Is he hot?”

Minho: “So that’s why you haven’t been texting us!”

“Yes, obviously he’s hot,” Chan says, choosing the easiest of these to reply to. “He’s beautiful, and he wears little skirts and stockings and makeup. And he was the one that seduced me, I’ll have you all know. He wouldn’t leave me alone! What was I supposed to do, tell him no?”

“Yes,” Minho says drily.

“So, like, what are you gonna do?” Jisung asks.

“I dunno! He goes back to school in like a month, which is over in Perth so it’s not like I’ll see him after that, except maybe over Easter break.” Chan kicks at a pebble. “I like him, though. When he’s not being a little brat, he’s very sweet.” He pauses, thinking back to this morning. “A little odd, though.”

“Anyone would be odd if they grew up around that much money,” Minho points out.

“He’s really moody,” Chan says. “Not sure what causes it, but… he’s just hard to figure out, I guess. But I like him.”

“It’s that good, huh?” Minho teases, and Chan groans.

“Yes, okay? I wish you guys could see him, you’d understand,” Chan says. “He’s so pretty. He doesn’t look real.”

“Maybe you’re hallucinating him,” Jeongin suggests, laughing.

“I almost wish I was,” Chan mutters wearily. “But anyway, that’s it, really. Just me making some really poor decisions. But what about you guys? How have things been since I left?”

The other three launch into updates about their lives—family drama, news from school. Chan listens, comforted by their voices and the familiarity of their struggles. The whole time he’s been here, he’s been so busy with his work (and with Felix) that he didn’t realize how homesick he was, but now, listening to his friends chatter, he feels kinda lonely. He takes a couple more turns around the block this way, chatting and laughing.

“My mom’s calling, I think we have to go,” Minho says finally.

“Go on, enjoy your party,” Chan says. “We’ll call again soon.”

“Enjoy your fuckbuddy,” Jeongin says.

“Think about it this way!” Jisung says cheerfully when Chan groans. “At least you don’t have to worry about getting him pregnant!”

“I’m hanging up,” Chan says over their laughter. “I love you all, somehow. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, hyung!”

“We love you, too.”

Chan waits for them to hang up, then pockets his phone with a sigh. The air is still and quiet now without their voices in his ear. He makes his way back to the house, punching in the code for the gate and slipping past, making sure it closes behind him. He goes around back, taking the staff entrance by the garage. The family is still having dinner. Once they move to the second floor, he supposes he’ll go scrounge for leftovers.

* * *

Christmas passes. Chan doesn’t see Felix again until a couple days after, which does strike him as bizarre seeing how they live in the same house. Felix returns to him with a smile, like the weird moment they had the morning of Christmas Eve never happened. Chan chooses to ignore it, too, and in doing so, closes a door on some of his emotions swirling beneath the surface. It’s not like that will go anywhere, right? Felix has made that clear.

And so they fall into a routine. Now that the holidays are coming to a close, Felix has realized he has some prep work for school, so he spends his mornings on that while Chan does his chores. When he finishes, he sneaks up to Felix’s room so they can fuck before dinner. Luckily, with the sparse number of staff members, they’re never in danger of getting caught.

New Year’s Eve comes before Chan knows it. The family has a party to attend after dinner, so Chan hurries through his chores since Felix will need time to get dressed. He scarfs down a lunch of cold leftovers, and then picks his way upstairs, dodging Olivia and one of the maids. They didn’t have a chance yesterday since Felix had an appointment in town—something about a magazine shoot, though Chan didn’t really get the details.

Felix is at his desk, bent over a textbook, glitter pen in hand when Chan opens his door. He looks up and immediately breaks into a smile when he sees him, capping his pen and putting it down, closing the book over it to mark his place. Chan locks the door behind him and crosses the room, taking Felix’s face in his hands and kissing him without saying hello.

“Ugh, finally, you’re so slow,” Felix complains between kisses, letting Chan pull him to his feet and push the chair out of the way. His beautiful voice, Chan finds himself thinking. Deep and rich and smooth. “I was so bored, daddy, and I missed you yesterday, and—ah!”

Chan bends him over his desk with a hand on his back. Felix’s knees knock cutely as he grips the edge of the desk, making breathless little noises of want. His tiny skirt—white today, with a matching bralette and thigh-highs that dig into the soft skin and create a little bubble over the top—hides nothing at this angle, flipped up to reveal Felix’s pink little hole, his cock hanging between his thighs. He’s not wearing any panties.

“You’re such a brat,” Chan murmurs, hoping his tone hides the worst of his affection, pulling the chair back and sitting down in it, scooting closer and spreading Felix’s ass with one hand.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Felix chants, shivering.

“Did you get all clean for me?” Chan asks, pressing a dry thumb to his rim.

“Yes, I saw you finishing up in the pool,” Felix tells him, breathless. “But you’re gonna have to prep me, I didn’t have time.”

“That’s fine, baby,” Chan says, and leans in, licking a flat stripe over his entrance. Felix moans again, pushing his ass back, and after a few more minutes of teasing, Chan eats him out in earnest, getting both of them messy with spit as he works to push his tongue inside.

One day without each other shouldn’t make such a difference, but both of them have clearly gotten used to getting off multiple times a day, so the wait has felt like forever. Chan’s already rock-hard in his shorts, a tent forming in the fabric over his crotch.

Felix is dripping precome onto the floor between his feet, Chan notices when he pulls back to take a breath. It’s kind of cute and really hot, the way he hands his body over to Chan and does very little to manage the way it reacts.

Chan reaches into the second desk drawer for lube so he can actually open Felix up, drizzling some over his index finger and giving Felix one last kiss before pushing his finger inside.

“Oh-hhh, yes, Chan,” Felix slurs, pressing his cheek to the desk.

Chan stretches him easily, Felix’s body already used to this kind of intrusion. He finds his prostate and pets over the spot, watching Felix shake. They’ve never tried it, but Chan wants to watch him come like this, so he stays here, massaging over the spot and stroking over Felix’s perineum with his thumb at the same time.

“Oh, fuck, feels so good,” Felix mumbles. “Mm, keep going. I feel warm, Chan, all over.”

“Good,” Chan says quietly. Felix gasps out little moans, his legs trembling. “Relax, baby, it only works if you relax.”

Felix whimpers but obeys, slumping against the desk and letting Chan milk his prostate. After a few more minutes, a shudder passes through Felix’s whole body, and a small spurt of release dribbles from Felix’s cock, dripping down his legs and mixing with his precome on the floor.

“Ohhh, god, that’s so—I can’t—Chan,” Felix babbles. “More.”

Chan adds a second finger, scissoring them inside Felix to press at his walls. He is trying to prep him, after all. Once Felix’s body seems to accommodate the stretch, Chan starts again, stroking over his prostate, slow and insistent.

He’s only seen it in porn, if he’s being honest, but Chan does his research. He tried it on himself once, but either it’s really that much better with a partner or Chan’s body just doesn’t do that, but it didn’t work—it felt nice at first, but ended up just kind of uncomfortable. He’s delighted (and honestly unsurprised) to find that Felix is capable.

Felix shudders out soft moans, voice sweet and poisonous as ever, shakily readjusting his grip on the desk. It’s obscene, Chan thinks, leaning back in the chair to take him in. His little skirt lies flat against his back. One of his thigh-highs is slipping down. There’s a puddle of his release between his feet. Chan couldn’t have imagined something hotter.

“Daddy,” Felix whimpers, so soft, so helpless. “Think I’m gonna—feels so—” He chokes on a moan, going up on his tiptoes and bending his knees. More release drips out. He settles again, body heavy against the desk, like his legs really are going to give out at any moment. “It feels like coming,” he mumbles, “but not.”

“You look so pretty, baby, so wrecked,” Chan says softly, leaning around so Felix can see him over his shoulder. “Think you can take another finger?”

“Yes,” Felix says immediately. “You’re still gonna fuck me, right?”

Chan’s lips twitch in amusement. “Of course I am,” he replies. “We have all afternoon, don’t we?”

Felix hums, placated. “Yes,” he agrees softly.

Chan pushes three fingers in. Felix tenses around him for half a second, and then relaxes with a sigh. Chan sinks his fingers all the way to the last knuckle, moving slow and enjoying Felix’s reactions, the way he huffs out little moans, the way his legs still won’t stop shaking.

One of Felix’s hands slips off the desk, and instead of trying to regain his grip, he brings the dropped hand to his cock, stroking in time with Chan’s fingers. Chan doesn’t even bother saying anything. He knows even if Felix comes, he’ll be able to come again when Chan fucks him.

“Chan, mm, god, Chan,” Felix mumbles. “Always make me feel so good.”

It only takes Chan cramming his pinky in beside the others for Felix to convulse against his desk, hips twitching as he comes. It spills over his knuckles and down his legs, soaking into the fabric of his thigh-highs.

“Ready,” Chan says calmly, pulling his fingers out and letting Felix struggle through pushing himself off the desk and upright.

He manages it, turning around and carefully avoiding the puddle of his release on the floor, leaning back against the edge of the desk and looking down at Chan through heavy-lidded eyes. He brings his soiled hand up to his lips and sticks one of his fingers in his mouth, cleaning himself up as he catches his breath.

“God,” he hums. “It’s gonna be so annoying when I go back to school.” Another finger pops out clean; he moves on to the next. “Who’s gonna fuck me like this?” He turns his hand so he can lick over the back of it. “You’re gonna have to call me, daddy.”

Chan smiles. “Guess I will,” he agrees.

“Good.” Felix’s hand is clean of come, and he reaches behind him for a tissue, then turns back around and bends down to wipe off the floor. Chan clenches his hands in his lap so he doesn’t pinch Felix’s ass, even though he’s pretty sure that’s exactly what Felix wants. Felix stands again, tossing the tissue into the garbage and giving Chan a glance over his shoulder before waltzing over to his bed. “Well? Come fuck me.”

Chan stands, tugging off his clothes and draping them over the back of the desk chair. “Just one round, though,” he says. “Your parents will be home soon, and you have your New Year’s dinner to get ready for.”

“If you hurry, we’ll have time for two,” Felix says slyly.

Chan, now naked, strolls past him to grab a condom, one hand on his cock to start working himself up to full hardness. “Why are you so insatiable?” he asks.

“C’mon, quick,” Felix demands, pouting.

Chan tears the condom open with his teeth, rolling it on and spreading a little lube over his cock. “God, but if they find out, they’d be so mad,” he says. The fear is real, but right now it’s far away, and easy to joke about. “They’d never forgive me for corrupting you.”

They both know if anything, it was the other way around, but neither of them mention it. Instead, Felix bends over the bed, arching his back and spreading himself with his hands. “Corrupting me?” he repeats. “Then come finish the job, daddy. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Chan murmurs. He grabs his underwear from the chair and brings them back to the bed with him. “Open. You’re gonna be loud, and I know one of the maids is right downstairs.”

Felix obeys, blinking up at him prettily as Chan stuffs his underwear into his mouth. Satisfied, Chan steps back, lining himself up behind Felix and gently swatting his hands out of the way. He collects Felix’s wrists in one of his palms and pins them against his tailbone, right over the pleats of his skirt.

For how casually he’s been acting, Chan is aching. He stops wasting time, finally pushing in with a soft groan. Felix lets out a muffled whimper, squeezing his eyes shut. Chan tightens his grip on Felix’s wrists as he bottoms out, clenching his jaw.

“So tight today, babygirl,” he grits out. “Does it hurt?” Felix nods with another tiny whimper. “Doesn’t matter how much I fuck you, does it? Just one day, and your body tightens right back up for me.” He takes a couple slow, shallow thrusts, waiting for Felix to open up for him. “Perfect,” he adds. “Made for fucking.”

Felix moans at this, barely audible through the fabric crammed in his mouth. His hair has partially fallen into his face. He looks like an angel, Chan thinks before he can stop himself. It wouldn’t matter; it’s true whether Chan lets himself think it or not.

Chan can move with ease now, so he speeds up, thrusting in with much more force until the sound of skin against skin is loud enough to make him a little nervous. But Felix is making pleased sounds, so Chan decides it’s worth a little risk. He lets his jaw drop open, panting out sharp exhales, trying to keep himself silent as best he can.

It’s difficult, though. Felix is warm and wet around him. Pleasure is a hot, heavy stone in the pit of Chan’s stomach, and the feeling only grows with every movement. The A/C is on high, but still Chan feels sweat beading on his hairline, can feel the flush that’s crept up his neck to his cheeks and down to his chest.

Felix moans out what sounds like yes, daddy, faster. Chan obeys immediately, somehow speeding up the rocking up his hips. Felix’s eyebrows pinch prettily, his eyes finding Chan’s. He’s picture-perfect, even with his hair in his face and tears welling up quick on his waterline. Maybe especially. One tear spills over, a fat drop of water. It rolls sideways down his face, over the bridge of his cute nose, distorting his freckles. He blinks, and another tear falls, and another. His eyeliner begins to smear.

Chan doesn’t know why, but Felix’s tears turn him on just as much as the skirts and stockings. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. “Feels that good?” Felix manages a nod, sniffling. “Finally getting fucked like you wanted?” Another nod, followed by a muffled sob. Chan has half the mind to take the makeshift gag out, just to hear Felix’s voice. “Gonna take care of you,” he says instead. This gets him another muted sob in response, and pride glows warm in his chest.

Chan continues to pound into him, almost enraptured by the way Felix’s tears work to ruin his careful makeup. Felix’s wrists slip from his hold, but Chan doesn’t move to take them again. If Felix wants to take the underwear out, Chan doesn’t think he wants to stop him. Felix doesn’t, though, just uses his arms to prop himself on his elbows, fucking himself back on Chan’s cock, taking fistfuls of the sheets and letting his head hang.

Chan secures a hold on Felix’s waist with one hand, using the other to reach up and grab Felix’s hair. Felix makes a noise of want in the back of his throat the instant Chan’s fingertips brush past his scalp. Chan takes his pretty hair into his fist and uses it to pull his head back up, until Felix is arched back and whimpering. He wishes there was a mirror, so he could see the tear-tracks on his face, the red blush that colors his neck and chest, the way his tiny fingers are curled tight into the duvet.

Felix spits the gag out, almost like a challenge. “Y-yes,” he stutters, finally free. “Chan, yes, like that. Fuck, I’m gonna feel you all night long, you’re all I’m gonna think about.”

Chan can’t help the noise that escapes him, low and guttural. He likes that a lot. Felix will be around so many rich, beautiful people tonight, but he’ll have the reminder of Chan with every step. A mark of possession. Chan might never be part of the world Felix is from, but he’ll have this. He’ll know he had him.

Felix does seem to try to keep his noises to a minimum, despite the fact that he doesn’t have anything stopping him anymore. Either he’s just humoring Chan, trying to prove that he can be good, or he’s actually taken Chan’s warning to heart. He cries softly, the sound muted by his closed lips.

“Staying so quiet for me,” Chan whispers. “Good girl.”

“Oh, fuck,” Felix says in a small, broken voice. “F-fuck, daddy, thank you, thank you.”

Chan presses his fingers into Felix’s hips, wondering if he can sear his fingerprints in through the fabric of the skirt if he tries hard enough. He feels the heat build inside him, a fever threatening to eat him alive. Stars float in front of his vision, and he fights to keep an even pace. Felix hiccups out little moans, mumbling more thank you, daddys and right there, yes, pleases. Chan’s world is spinning, spinning; he makes some kind of noise, but it’s hazy even to his own ears. He thinks he feels the tension snap in his stomach.

“Mm, yes,” Felix hisses out. Chan closes his eyes, his hips still moving, though erratically now. “So warm, daddy, can feel it. Wish you could fill me up for real, wish I could keep you with me tonight, a load plugged up and hidden—”

There’s rushing in Chan’s ears, and he sways, body twitching. He thinks he lets go of Felix’s hair, thinks he can feel Felix clenching around him, can feel him writhing in pleasure beneath him, but it’s all so far away.

Chan tilts himself forward, caging Felix’s body with his arms and resting his forehead against his back, breathing deep and slow. Felix giggles softly. The noise is a little clearer, or maybe Chan’s just closer. “Are you gonna pass out?” he hears Felix ask.

“No,” he says hoarsely, then reconsiders and adds, “I don’t know.”

Another breathy giggle. “‘Cause I wouldn’t be able to move,” Felix says. “I’d—I’d be trapped here with you on top of me, still inside me.”

The world is coming back into focus, but Chan doesn’t dare open his eyes. He feels lightheaded. “You sound like you’d like that a lot,” he mutters. “Didn’t you just come?

“Yeah, but you know. Worse people to be trapped under,” Felix hums placidly. “Worse cocks to be stuck on.”

“Thanks, I think,” Chan says.

They lay there for a few long moments, just breathing. Chan doesn’t drop his full weight onto Felix—as much as Felix seems convinced he’d like it, Chan is a little worried he’s going to crush him. It is oddly peaceful, slowly floating down together in the afterglow. The room smells like sex, but Chan’s nose is against Felix’s skin, and the sweet citrusy scent all but overpowers it. He takes another deep breath.

“Felix! Olivia!” The intercom crackles to life and Chan nearly has a heart attack, snapping his eyes open and lurching off of Felix’s body before realizing Mrs. Lee’s voice is coming from the speaker, which means she has to be downstairs in her office. “We have dinner in an hour and the Hwang’s New Year’s Eve party to get to right after. Your sister is already ready. I won’t allow us to be late! Dressed and downstairs in forty-five minutes, no excuses!”

The room is silent, and then Felix buries his face in his duvet and laughs.

“How are you laughing?” Chan complains. “I think I almost pissed myself.”

“Take back what I said,” Felix says into the duvet. “Glad you have a condom on. Piss is where I draw the line.”

Chan pulls out, rolling the offending condom off and tossing it in the trash. “Shut up,” he mutters. “Well, you heard her.” Felix stands, too, reaching for a tissue to wipe his come off the bed. “You have forty-five minutes to not look like you just got fucked, so you better hurry up.”

“I’m a professional, I can do it in twenty,” Felix says. When he turns to Chan, he’s got a glint in his eye that Chan knows means trouble. “Which means we have time for one last round.”

“Felix, she’s home,” Chan hisses.

“So?” Felix says. “We’ve fucked with my parents home before.”

“Yeah, but not on a night like tonight!” Chan says. “What if she comes up to check that you’re actually getting ready?”

Felix makes a face. “She won’t,” he says, and there’s a bitterness there that Chan doesn’t quite understand. “She’d rather be disappointed.” He seems to sense Chan is wavering, and clears his expression. “Please,” he wheedles. “One more, just one. So I can make it through this stupid party.”

“I thought you were friends with the Hwangs’ son,” Chan says, but he’s already going for a fresh condom. Felix tosses him his underwear and he puts them with his other clothing.

“Yeah, but our parents are going to be breathing down our fucking necks,” Felix says. He crawls up to the head of the bed. “You can go slow this time, so the bed doesn’t creak. Besides,” he adds with a giggle as he unclasps his bralette and throws it in the general direction of his hamper. “I think if you fucked me like you just did, I’d bleed—which normally I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t think Eomma would take kindly to bloodstains on my new suit.”

“Oh, a suit?” Chan says, raising an eyebrow, climbing onto the bed, too. Felix reaches out for his cock, so Chan moves closer, watching Felix’s little hands wrap around it. He’s sensitive, but they’ve taken enough of a break that it’s not unbearable.

“Mm, a suit. It’s white silk, very pretty,” Felix says. “This is a serious event, my parents would never let me go in a skirt.”

“I’ll always like the skirts best,” Chan says as Felix sits up properly so he can press his tongue to the tip of Chan’s cock. Chan inhales sharply through clenched teeth, the air almost whistling from the speed. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a pretty suit, too.”

“Come see us off after dinner,” Felix says. “Ask my mum if she needs anything before she goes. She’ll like that, and you’ll get to see me.”

“Okay,” Chan agrees softly, running a hand through Felix’s hair.

Felix uses his hands and mouth to work Chan back up to hardness. Chan watches the clock. It takes ten minutes. He’s going to have to be quick if they don’t want to get caught. There’s a part of him that knows he should’ve said no, should’ve gotten dressed and left, but a bigger part of him is enjoying the risk. Or maybe it’s just the part of him that wants to agree to everything Felix says.

So Chan rolls the new condom on, adds more lube. Felix settles back into the pillows, spreading his legs, cock just beginning to harden again underneath his skirt. Downstairs, Felix’s family prepares for dinner, for a party, and doesn’t wonder what’s taking Felix so long, doesn’t wonder where Chan has disappeared to. Just a few floors above them, Chan pushes back into Felix’s body with a soft grunt. Felix wraps his arms around Chan’s shoulders, his legs around Chan’s waist, pulling him close.

It’s slow and quiet, completely different from the way they are just a half an hour before. Chan stays buried deep and circles his hips, grinding into Felix, his lips on Felix’s throat, his Adam’s Apple, his jaw. Felix ducks his head so they can kiss, deep and fierce and almost noiseless.

“Chan,” Felix whispers between kisses. “So good to me.”

Chan smiles against his lips. Here, wrapped in each other's bodies, they can’t possibly hurt each other. “Of course I am,” he says. “I want what you want.”

“Even when it’s a terrible idea?” Amusement is a shining light behind Felix’s eyes.

Chan kisses him, quick and almost chaste. “I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks when he pulls away.

“Yes,” Felix whispers. The amusement fades, replaced by something else. “You’re here.”

Chan cups his face in his hands, stroking over his cheekbones with his thumbs. His makeup is destroyed, mascara drying on his cheeks and lip gloss smudged on his chin. His nose is still red, eyes still puffy, from crying. And he’s beautiful. I’ll be here as long as you want me, Chan thinks helplessly.

He kisses him again so he doesn’t say it. Their noses bump, but Felix leans in insistently, holding Chan close, fingers interlocked behind his neck. Chan breathes Felix in, lemon and sugar and sweat, rolling his hips, dirty and deep, swallowing all of Felix’s soft moans. Chan can feel Felix’s heartbeat under his fingertips, quick like a rabbit’s. Felix holds him close like he doesn’t want to let go.

When Chan comes, he doesn’t even make a sound. It passes through his body like something washing up on the shore—slow, almost languid, final. Felix kisses him through it, clenching tight dutifully, making it good for him.

Chan pulls out and replaces his cock with a couple of his fingers, and works them in as deep as they’ll go, then thrusts shallowly, not enough to make a lot of noise. With his other hand, he thumbs over the slit of Felix’s cock. Felix covers his mouth with his hands, eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling, abdomen tight from the exertion.

He comes in a few weak dribbles that run down Chan’s knuckles, a tiny amount of fluid, nearly clear. Felix twists in the sheets but stays quiet, lifting his hips up off the bed as he shakes. “Good girl,” Chan murmurs, and Felix whines high and faint in the back of his throat.

There are twenty minutes exactly left for Felix to get ready when Chan hops off the bed to discard the condom and go wash his hands. Felix is working his way to the edge of the bed when Chan returns from the bathroom. He grabs his tank top and throws it on, walking over to the bed to give Felix a kiss on the forehead.

“I’ll come see you off later, yeah?” he says.

Felix nods. “I’ll see you later.” He slips down onto the floor and stumbles, knees buckling. Chan grabs him before he can fall to the floor, and Felix giggles weakly. “Oh god, you fucked me so good, hyung,” he says, voice syrupy-sweet. “Oh, shit.” Chan lets him go and he wobbles, but remains standing. “Oh, my legs feel like jelly. What if I can’t walk?” He’s still giggling when he looks up at Chan.

“That’s not funny,” Chan groans, heading back to the desk chair to put on the rest of his clothes. “If your parents find out about this because I fucked you so hard you can’t walk right, I will literally never forgive myself.”

“Kind of a great way to go, though,” Felix says blithely, waltzing into the bathroom. “Go, before they really do catch you.”

“Right,” Chan mutters to himself, tying the waistband of his shorts.

* * *

Chan goes to bed early that night. He sees the family off, watching Felix out of the corner of his eye. The suit is very pretty, a warm-toned white, oversized and draped over Felix’s body perfectly. The shirt is made of a shimmery, gossamer fabric, and Mrs. Lee reminds Felix three times to button another button. She also tells Chan to take a bottle of champagne from the cellar to celebrate.

Chan takes a bottle but doesn’t open it, just leaves it on his desk and heads into the shower to wash the day’s sins off of his body. He finds Felix’s come crusted in his nailbeds, and hopes to god nobody noticed.

He falls asleep long before midnight and wakes sometime in the stifling darkness of the early hours to a body next to his own, warm and smelling of champagne.

“Felix?” he whispers. “What time is it? Are you drunk?”

“No, just a little tipsy,” Felix whispers back. He sounds clearheaded; he must be telling the truth. “And it’s a little past two. Your door was unlocked. I just—wanted to come say goodnight. I wanted to see you.”

He’s not in his suit. He’s not in a robe, either; instead, little sleep shorts and an unassuming t-shirt, loose and soft from wear. Chan blinks against the dark, reaching a hand up to touch his face. His hair is still damp from his shower. “How was the party?”

Felix crawls under the blankets, pressing cold toes to Chan’s shins. “It was alright. I got to see my friends, at least. I need to see you and Changbin side by side. I think his arms are even bigger than yours.”

Chan exhales soft laughter, wrapping an arm around Felix and kissing the tip of his nose. “Well, alright is better than bad, I guess,” he says. “Make any resolutions?”

“To continue being a horrible little brat,” Felix replies, giggling. “You?”

“I didn’t,” Chan admits. “I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s just another day,” Felix says with a half-shrug. “Just like yesterday. Just like tomorrow.”

“That’s true,” Chan agrees softly, some tender feeling blooming in his chest.

“Happy New Year,” Felix whispers.

“Happy New Year,” Chan repeats.

“I didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight,” Felix says.

“You do now,” Chan says, and kisses him. And kisses him. And kisses him.

When Chan wakes up the next morning, Felix is already gone, but his sheets smell like champagne and lemons and sugar.

* * *

Chan is in the garden, trimming away dead leaves. Jerry went home early—a doctor’s appointment, Chan thinks he said, so it’s up to Chan to tend to the plants. The afternoon sun is punishing, beating against his back, but Chan honestly doesn’t mind it. The garden, when he’s alone, is peaceful.

The first week or so of January has passed quietly. There’s only a couple weeks now before the new semester begins, and Chan finds himself looking forward to it. It’ll be nice to have other people around his age to talk to—Felix doesn’t count.

Speaking of Felix, he thinks to himself as he moves down the row of plants, I wonder where he is? Chan didn’t see him at breakfast or at lunch. It’s not unlike him to sleep in, especially now that his break is almost finished, but Chan usually sees him before the afternoon wears on. Then again, Chan is usually around the house, not out in the gardens.

He works his way to the center of the garden throughout the afternoon, pausing every now and again for water or sunblock. He gets to the clearing where he found Felix that first evening, and after he finishes his work there, he decides to give himself a break, dropping down onto the bench with a sigh.

He sits there awhile, answering a couple texts and checking his socials. It’s not so bad in the shade, and there’s a breeze today, so Chan actually finds himself comfortable after a few minutes of rest. He tips his head back, looking up at the trees.

He can’t imagine growing up in a place like this. This is an estate. It should be a museum. The whole property is so sterile, almost, pristine; meant for looking at, not living in. Chan honestly found it hard to believe anyone lived this way, except maybe the richest people in the world. But now here Chan is as proof—this sort of life is lived in, just meticulously looked after by unseen hands.

Chan lets himself sit and contemplate for about a half an hour, and then begrudgingly gets to his feet to get back to work. He collects his tools and is about to move on when he hears uneven footfalls coming his way.

Felix appears in the entrance to the clearing, wearing the tiny booty shorts and holding a nearly full bottle of wine. It’s a red today, and looks expensive. His lips are stained the faintest hint of dark purple, and his eyes, vacant and unfocused, light up when he sees Chan.

“Oh my god, there you are!” he exclaims. His crop top is slipping off the one of his shoulders; it slips further as he heads Chan’s way. Uneasy, Chan drops his tools back in the grass and pockets his phone.

“Hey, Felix,” he says slowly, eyeing the bottle in his hand. “Is that… all you drank?” He can’t imagine it is; Felix stumbles over his own feet in the grass.

Felix holds it up and looks at it, then takes another sip. “No,” he says, almost sing-songy. “I finished one after I got home.”

“Home from where?” Chan asks, letting Felix fall into his arms. “Careful, baby.”

Felix doesn’t answer. He’s busy pressing closer to Chan, nose against his neck. “Hi, daddy,” he slurs. “Missed you this morning.” He surges up and kisses Chan, wet and messy.

Chan raises his chin to get out of his reach. “Uh, yeah,” he says, debating the merits of taking the wine from Felix and the chances he’ll succeed. “I was working, like usual. Where… were you?”

“Oh, you know,” Felix mumbles vaguely, leaning in. Chan flinches back instinctively, and Felix frowns. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

“You’re super drunk, baby,” Chan says softly. “I’m worried about you. Here,” he says, bending down and picking up his water bottle. “How about some water?”

Felix shakes his head, and takes another swig of wine just to spite him. “I don’t want water,” he says petulantly. Chan swears the slurring is getting worse by the sentence. “I want wine, and I want you.” Another swig, and then he offers the bottle to Chan. Chan shakes his head. “‘Member how I said I want it all the time, even if I’m drunk?” He takes one of Chan’s hands with his own. “Well, I meant it.” He tries to pull Chan’s hand around his back, down toward his ass.

“Felix.” Chan tries to pry his hand out Felix’s grasp as gently as he can, but Felix’s grip is surprisingly strong.

“C’mon, daddy,” Felix murmurs. Chan can feel the swell of one of his cheeks on his palm. “Don’t you want me?” He presses one of Chan’s fingers to his entrance, and Chan registers that he’s already loose and wet with lube.

Chan wrangles himself free, trying to ignore Felix’s gasp of pain when he accidentally bends one of his fingers. “This isn’t a good idea, Felix,” he says softly, hoping to gentle the rejection by keeping his tone light. It’s not that he doesn’t want him, he just doesn’t want him like this. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. The heat can’t be helping.” He tries to start walking them in the direction of the house, but Felix refuses to budge.

“No, please, Chan,” Felix whines. “Why not? You fucked me here before, remember?” Chan does remember. He remembers pressing Felix up against one of the statues and smothering his moans with a hand clamped tight over his mouth. There’s no way he couldn’t remember. “Why won’t you do it now?” Felix continues. “Just ‘cause I’m a little drunk? I told you, it’s fine. I’m a slut, I always want it.” He’s practically spitting the words at Chan; his voice has taken on a strange quality that Chan isn’t sure how to interpret. “I need it.”

“Baby,” Chan says softly. “I’m not gonna fuck you right now. Okay? I’m in the middle of working, and you need to drink some water and sober up, or your mum is going to lose her shit. C’mon, let me help you.”

This seems to infuriate Felix. He wrenches himself away, nearly losing balance. “If you don’t fuck me, I’ll tell her about us.”

Fear courses through Chan’s body, but he knows immediately he’d rather take that risk than do something he knows is bad for Felix. “I don’t care,” he says softly. “Tell her. This isn’t right, I won’t do it, I’m not going to fuck you when you’re drunk and clearly—upset about something—”

“I’m not upset, the only thing I’m upset about is that you don’t like me anymore,” Felix protests. “Please, Chan. I need it.”

“No, you don’t,” Chan sighs, going up to him and linking their arms together. “And of course I still like you. We’re gonna go inside, okay? And we’re going to get you some water, and find Maya, and she’ll make you something to eat. I’m worried about you, baby, okay? Will you do this for me?”

Felix grumbles incoherently, but complies nonetheless, letting Chan march him out of the gardens. Chan thinks he murmurs a good girl in Felix’s ear; maybe that’s why he keeps walking. Felix takes drinks of his wine as they go, but Chan decides that that is not a battle worth fighting. He’s going to take this small victory and run, because the last thing he needs is for Felix to refuse to come with him again. In any case, he has much bigger problems to contend with at the moment—Felix trips over his own feet every few steps, most of his weight falling on Chan to carry.

“Chan,” he slurs, giggles. He presses a sloppy kiss to Chan’s neck, nearly toppling both of them in the process. “You’re soooo strong. How come you’re walking so straight?” More giggles, interrupted by a hiccup. “The world is sideways.”

“Just keep moving,” Chan says. “I’ve got you.”

So he lets Felix drink without saying a word as they cross the bridge, the patio, and finally make it to the back door. Chan isn’t quite sure how he gets both of them inside, but he manages that, too, closing and locking the door behind him and letting Felix use him as a support while he kicks off his shoes. They pad clumsily down the hall, Chan veering them towards the kitchen and praying Maya will be there.

She is, thankfully, cleaning up at the breakfast bar and setting out some fruit. Her eyes widen when she sees them, taking in the drunken flush of Felix’s cheeks and Chan’s strained expression, dropping her work and hurrying to meet them.

“What happened?” she asks Chan.

“I don’t know,” Chan says, lies. “I ran into him when I was working in the garden. He’s…” Chan glances at the bottle in Felix’s hand. It’s already half-empty. “I think that’s his second bottle, I don’t know. He’s really drunk, and I didn’t know what to do, so I managed to convince him to come inside to get some water.”

Maya reaches out for Felix, but he just turns his head away. “Thank you, Chan,” she says softly. “Thank you for looking out for him.” Guilt runs through Chan’s veins like ice, but he nods. “He has days like this, but we’ve survived every one. Here, can you get him into a chair? I’ll go grab some water.”

She turns to go, and Chan starts to walk, but Felix groans, hanging his head, and vomits unceremoniously and without warning onto the floor. It spatters against the hardwoods, some of it splashing onto Chan’s socks. Watered down wine, purple-red, and nothing solid. No wonder he’s so fucked up, Chan finds himself thinking as Felix sways, bottle slipping from his fingers.

Chan’s memories of the next few minutes are blurry. He manages to catch the bottle as Felix drops it, saving it from shattering on the floor. Felix continues to throw up, all liquid, coughing and gagging even when it’s all gone, his full weight sagging against Chan’s side. Chan manages to get Felix into a chair; Maya brings him water and some paper towels to clean himself up with. Chan cleans up the mess on the floor while Maya calls for Felix’s parents. Mr. Lee isn’t home, but his mother takes one look and walks out, disgusted.

Rachael is the one who takes Felix back to his room. Chan sees them get into the elevator, and that’s the last of it, Felix’s pink hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his face, Rachael with her arm wrapped tight around him, eyes stormy. The door closes, and Chan takes soaked paper towels to the trash.

The kitchen is quiet in the aftermath. Maya sighs softly, looking at Chan over the island. “Sorry,” she says. “But if you work here long enough, you see that eventually.”

“Is he… okay?” Chan ventures, just above a whisper.

“It doesn’t happen that often,” she says. “Usually, he’ll have a glass or two once in a while, and it’s fine. But sometimes…” She gestures helplessly around her. “I don’t know. They…” She lowers her voice. “They took him to a doctor once, but they said it wasn’t unusual for a kid his age to overindulge on occasion. Mr. and Mrs. Lee agreed, so they didn’t send him back.”

“What do you think?” Chan asks.

“I think he’s sad,” she says quietly after a moment of hesitation. “More than he lets on, and sometimes this is the only way he knows how to deal with it.”

* * *

The house has a sort of haunted silence to it for the rest of the day. Chan finishes his work quickly and retreats to his room to try and escape it, only leaving to grab something for dinner in the late evening. But the silence is everywhere, hanging heavy in the air, oppressive.

Still, the next morning, it seems things have returned to normal. Rachael leaves for her internship at her usual time. Felix doesn’t come to breakfast.

Chan only sees him after lunch when he’s restocking the patio. He comes down the stairs almost shyly, taking small, calculated steps and sitting down in a lounge chair slowly, like if he moves quietly enough, Chan won’t see him.

“Thank you,” Felix says finally. “For taking care of me yesterday.”

Chan blinks, setting down a water bottle and straightening, hesitating for a moment before walking over to Felix and sitting in the chair next to him. “Yeah, no, don’t worry about it,” he says. “It was the right thing to do. And…” He looks Felix over. He’s a little pale, and there are bags under his eyes, but he looks fine. “I’m glad you’re okay. Do you… wanna talk about it?”

Felix is silent for a few long minutes. Chan waits patiently, looking out over the sparkling water of the pool.

“My parents hate me,” Felix says at last. There’s a finality to his tone that makes his words sink in like dead weight. “They’re disappointed in everything I do. And you know? Sometimes I am too.” He runs his hands through his hair. “They have an idiot for a son, who gets so drunk he throws up on their hardwoods before dinner, and who has no direction in life and no idea what he wants to be. And honestly?” He waits until Chan is looking at him before he continues. “I’d just feel bad for them, except I know that the thing they hate the most about me is that I’m gay, and I dress like—“ He gestures down at himself. He’s in a demure linen dress today, the top three buttons undone and the waist cinched tight. “—like a sissy slut.” The words come out hard as stones, and Chan understands the tone he took in the garden yesterday. It wasn’t his own voice. It was his mother’s, stealing his tongue. “They pretend they’re supportive, because they don’t want to harm my dad’s image, but—I know the truth,” Felix says. “And I’m—I’m not ashamed of it. I know who I am. But I just wish—” He breaks off, presses his lips together, looking through Chan. “I just wish they loved me,” he finishes quietly.

Chan’s heart twists in his chest. He still doesn’t really understand—where Felix goes, why he acts the way he does, what it is exactly that he’s running from—but he does feel hurt for him. “Felix,” he says softly.

Felix looks back up at him. “You know I wouldn’t have actually told them, right?” he asks seriously.

Chan blinks. “You… remember that?” He kind of assumed Felix had blacked out for most of the afternoon.

Felix nods miserably. “Yeah,” he mutters. “It’s spotty, but… I remember trying to—to get you to fuck me, and then threatening to tell my parents when you wouldn’t. And I just want you to know that I wouldn’t.” He pauses, looking at Chan, his expression unreadable. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thank you,” Chan says softly.

“And I’m sorry.” The words sound like they’re being dragged from Felix’s chest. He must not apologize often, so Chan is honestly touched that he’s doing it now. “For—for throwing myself at you, and for saying I’d do that. And for puking on your socks.”

Chan can’t help the laughter that bursts out of him. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to rein it in. At least there’s a ghost of a smile now on Felix’s lips. “Really, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you. Do you know, the reason I don’t drink often is because I had a night like that in college?”

Felix leans in, intrigued. “Really? You?”

“Yeah,” Chan says, happy to be on a lighter topic, happy that Felix is no longer stewing in a world of self-pity. “It was my freshman year, right after finals, and I drank so much I was throwing up I swear for an hour straight. And the worst part is, it started in my friend Minho’s room, and his floor was carpeted.”

“Oh, fuck,” Felix laughs. The sound warms Chan.

“Yeah, so don’t feel bad. The cleanup yesterday was really easy,” Chan says. “Your hardwoods have a good sealant on them, don’t worry. Back then, we had to call in the poor cleaning staff, and they kicked my friends out of their room so they could shampoo it…”

* * *

“I’m gonna get lunch,” Felix says, emerging from the pool and wrapping a towel around his shoulders. “You know where to find me.”

Chan nods wordlessly, peeking up at him as he leaves before getting back to work.

The break is coming to a close. Felix leaves first out of his siblings, going back in just a few days now. Though neither of them say it, Chan can tell they’re both making a more concerted effort to see each other as often as possible. It’s easy in some ways. Since the holidays are over, Mr. and Mrs. Lee spend most of their days out of the house, coming back late. And though all the staff members are back, which makes dodging them hard, at least Chan doesn’t have any extra work to hold him back.

So Chan finishes his work, grabs a quick lunch, and then heads upstairs. Felix is exactly where Chan expected him, curled up at his desk, busy gaming, cute round glasses on and a green Melona popsicle between his lips.

Felix sees him when he comes in and scrambles to pause his game, pulling off his headphones and grabbing the popsicle out of his mouth. “Hi,” he says, almost breathless. His lips are bright red and glossy from the popsicle.

“Hi,” Chan replies. He takes his time with the lock, strolling slowly over to Felix and running a hand through his hair. The roots are really starting to grow in, deep, inky black against faded pink. A measure of how long Chan has known him. “Still in your swimsuit,” he says.

“Thought maybe we could shower together,” Felix replies. He holds Chan’s gaze and licks a stripe up his popsicle.

“Mm, good idea,” Chan agrees, bending over him and finally kissing him. Felix moans softly, his free hand coming up to grip one of Chan’s biceps, tiny fingers pressing into the muscle. His lips are cold and he tastes sweet. Chan licks over his bottom lip, then pushes in past his teeth. He’s sweet everywhere, popsicle coating his tongue.

Felix’s eyes are glazed with pleasure when they break apart. His popsicle is melting in his hand, but he seems unaware of it. Chan grins at him, bending to the side and catches a drop with his tongue. “I’m gonna eat this if you don’t,” he says. Felix just hums, holding it out to him, so Chan does the only logical thing, which is to take the whole thing in his mouth and then pull back off real slow, keeping his cheeks hollowed and his eyes on Felix.

“You’re just as bad as I am,” Felix says with a dreamy giggle as Chan licks his lips.

“Wasn’t like this before I met you,” Chan says, which is mostly true. He kisses Felix again, pinning him to the chair. “We gonna shower?”

“Mm, yeah,” Felix says, but he keeps kissing Chan, alternating between that and taking licks of his popsicle. Chan knows he’s not helping; he reaches down between Felix’s legs and cups his cock in his palm, groping him through the thin fabric of his tiny swim bottoms. Felix lets out another moan, bucking up into Chan’s hand.

“Should really get in the shower, then,” Chan hums, but he keeps going, running his fingers up and down the length of Felix’s cock until he’s hard. Precome leaks a wet patch into the swim bottoms, the stain spreading as the minutes drip by. Felix swirls what’s left of his popsicle in his mouth, movements slow and lazy, moans muffled. “Should get going before you make a mess in your bikini,” Chan continues.

“Mm, Chan,” Felix sighs, so pretty. “S-stop touching me, then.”

Chan hums like he’s considering it. “Do you want me to stop touching you?” he asks.

“N-no,” Felix stutters. He pulls the popsicle stick out, clean. “Kiss me.”

Chan obliges, bracing himself with a hand on the headrest of Felix’s chair. Felix pushes his cold tongue into Chan’s mouth, whimpering in the back of his throat as he runs it over Chan’s teeth. It’s messy, but Chan doesn’t care. He’ll happily lick any taste off the surface of Felix’s tongue.

They keep kissing until Felix comes, sticky white soaking through his swim bottoms and getting all over Chan’s hand, moans muffled in Chan’s mouth, popsicle stick dropped and forgotten on the floor. Felix goes limp against the chair when Chan pulls away, sighing softly. “Ohh, I felt that in my toes,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut.

Chan grins, kissing him on the tip of the nose, then reaches around with his clean hand to grab lube and a condom out of the desk drawer. “Okay, definitely shower now,” he says.

“I can’t move,” Felix complains. “My legs won’t go.”

“You’re such a piece of work,” Chan mutters fondly, readjusting his grip on the lube and then simply scooping Felix out of the chair and carrying him to the bathroom. Felix squeaks in delight, giggling softly as Chan lowers him gently onto the edge of the tub.

“You’re seriously so strong, Chan,” he says, watching as Chan pokes his head into the shower to start the water. “I bet you could squat me.”

“I could definitely squat you,” Chan agrees. “I could squat two of you.”

“We have a gym,” Felix says, now sounding a little dreamy. “You could probably even bench me.”

“Probably,” Chan says, setting the lube and condom down on the counter and giving him a look. “But I think if someone catches us in the gym together, they’re really gonna start asking questions.”

“Oh, but naked in my bathroom is okay?” Felix asks pointedly as Chan shucks his tank up and over his head.

“The point of your rooms is people won’t just walk in,” Chan replies. “‘Cause you might be naked. Speaking of which, get moving.”

“Point taken,” Felix chirps, untying the strings of his bikini top and letting it fall to the floor, then stepping out of his soiled bottoms and hooking them over a finger. “Hurry up.” He steps into the shower and disappears behind the steam.

Chan shakes his head, carefully folding his underwear and laying it on top of the stack of the rest of his clothes on the counter. He picks up the lube and condom and heads into the shower.

Felix is waiting under the water, scrubbing at his swim bottoms. “One sec,” he says softly, glancing up when Chan brings in a whoosh of cold air.

The shelves are out of the way of the spray, so Chan puts the lube and condom on the highest one, holding his hand out for Felix’s swim bottoms so he can hang them on one of the little hooks on the wall when he’s done.

“Thanks,” Felix says, a genuine, proper show of gratitude. Chan hides his smile, reaching for the shampoo.

“Turn around,” he says. “Close your eyes.”

Felix obeys, and Chan squeezes a dollop of shampoo out onto his palm, capping the bottle with a click and putting it back before rubbing his hands together. He spreads the shampoo on Felix’s wet hair, pressing the pads of his fingertips into Felix’s scalp in a gentle massage, running his fingers through the strands to make sure the soap gets everywhere.

“Your hair’s so smooth,” Chan finds himself saying. “Even though you’ve dyed it. It’s so soft.”

Chan can hear Felix’s smile even though he can’t see it. “Thanks.” Felix leans into his touch. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” Chan asks, slowing his movements, working his fingers in circles. Felix moans lowly, and Chan’s pretty sure it’s not even sexual. “Good?”

“Yes, daddy,” Felix breathes, and—okay, maybe a little sexual. But he does kind of look like he’s melting a little bit, relaxing under Chan’s hands.

He remains pliant as Chan washes his hair out for him, and patient when Chan works on his own hair. But the instant the soap is gone, his hands are on Chan’s body, pressing little kisses to his chest and arms.

“Ready for round two?’” Chan asks needlessly. “Want daddy to fuck you now?”

“Mm-hm,” Felix agrees.

Chan puts the water on super hot and then points the faucet away from them so they don’t drown, but they stay warm. “Up against the wall, then,” he says, nodding to it. Felix goes immediately, pressing himself up against the tile and sticking his cute little ass out. “Jesus, baby,” Chan says before he can stop himself. “You look like a dream.” Felix just smirks at him over his shoulder.

Chan finds the lube, drizzling a little over his fingers as he walks up behind Felix. He kisses his shoulder blade, staying close as he feels around for his entrance and pushes a finger in. Felix moans softly, the sound echoing against the walls. “God, I always forget how big your fingers are,” he says. “Can’t ever make myself feel the way you do.”

“Good thing I’m here, then,” Chan says, pushing in past his middle knuckle and waiting for Felix to relax around him.

“Yeah, but—mm—you won’t be soon,” Felix says. “I mean, I won’t be. I’m gonna fuck my way through all the jocks trying to find someone who can do what you can.”

Chan tamps down the jealousy that flares in his chest. Felix isn’t his. He can fuck whoever he wants. “Good luck with that,” he says. “You’d have better time with artists. They actually have fine motor skills.”

“Mm, that’s a good point,” Felix huffs. “Hyunjin’s always been good with his hands.”

Chan decides he’s not going to ask exactly what Felix means by that. “Besides, I bet most of the athletes’ll only last a couple minutes.”

“I dunno,” Felix says, mischief rich in his voice. “Changbin has great stamina, and my other friend Seungmin is a baseball player, and he does too.”

“You trying to make me jealous?” Chan asks. “Or do you just fuck all your friends?”

“You’re not my friend,” Felix points out. “And I’m fucking you.”

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with that,” Chan says, exhaling laughter.

“You should come visit me,” Felix says. “During a long weekend or something.”

“Your parents are gonna ask questions,” Chan says.

“You’re from here,” Felix argues. “You could just say you’re visiting an old friend.”

“That’s true,” Chan acquiesces, retaliating by adding a second finger. Felix’s jaw drops open and satisfaction boils hot in Chan’s stomach. “Maybe I will.”

“You better,” Felix says, somehow still sounding all sharp and demanding despite the strain in his voice. “I don’t wanna wait until Easter to fuck you again.”

Chan can agree with that, at the very least. “That’s true, it’s a while to wait. And calling isn’t the same.”

“Mm-mm,” Felix agrees. “Not unless I commission a replica of your hands. Or your cock.”

“I don’t think even that would be enough for you,” Chan says, and Felix giggles.

“Probably not,” he admits. “Can’t help it. I just want you.”

Chan fits a third finger in, pumping them viciously even though it’s tight just so he can watch Felix squirm. “Yeah? Like the way I fuck you?”

“Better than anybody else,” Felix says, and if Chan wasn’t certain he says that to everyone he fucks, he’d probably do something embarrassing. As it is, his dick twitches anyway. He pets over Felix’s prostate, so familiar now with his body that he doesn’t even have to search around for it. Felix shudders, muscles in his back tensing up. “Yeah, right there.”

“Here?” Chan massages over it meanly, pressing kisses to Felix’s spine and listening to him whine.

“Too much, Chan, gonna come again,” he protests, trying and failing to escape the sensation by shifting his hips. “Wanna come on your cock.”

That gets Chan to relent. “Fine,” he says softly. “Almost there.”

He finishes opening Felix up quickly, then pulls his fingers out and runs them under the scalding water for just a second to get them clean enough to open the condom packet without slipping. He rolls it on, adding another pump of lube for good measure, and then positions himself behind Felix.

“Put it in,” Felix demands the instant he hesitates. “I’m ready. And if I’m not, and I bleed, we can wash it all away.”

Chan doesn’t need him to say it again. He pushes past his puckered entrance and slides into the sweet warmth. Felix is tight around him like a vice, and Chan only gets halfway before he has to stop. “Shit,” he murmurs. “A little too impatient.”

“Keep going,” Felix insists. “I can take it.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Chan says, but he does try to push in a little more, anyway. It works, sort of, and slowly, he manages to sink in the rest of the way. Both of them let out deep sighs when he finally bottoms out, pressed close to Felix’s body, so close he’s got Felix’s trapped against the wall.

“Fu-u-uck,” Felix moans. “I’m gonna explode. You feel so big, Chan. I think I can feel you in my tummy, against the wall. Feel like ‘m getting split open.”

Chan isn’t sure about that, but the idea makes him grit out a moan nonetheless. “Guess I should spend less time on prep more often,” he manages. “So tight, baby. Feel nice ’n’ full?”

“God, yeah,” Felix breathes. “Fuck, it’s like I can feel you everywhere.” His fingers catch on the grout between the tiles but slip down the wall all the same.

“Give you a second before I move,” Chan mumbles. “Don’t wanna do some real damage.”

“Mm, kinda want you to,” Felix whimpers. “Ruin my body, daddy, I want it.”

“Fuck, babygirl,” Chan groans. “Want me to make it hurt?”

“Yes.” The word is a breath sucked in between bared teeth. “Please.”

Chan draws his hips back excruciatingly slow, letting Felix whimper for him for a second before pushing back in, fast and hard. The force of it punches a weak moan out of Felix’s chest. “Like that?” Chan pants, doing it again, legs shaking from the exertion and the delicious drag of his cock against Felix’s walls. “Fuck, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

Felix only sobs out a moan, the sound garbled by the echoes it makes and his slack jaw. Chan spreads a hand between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the wall and using his other hand to grip his hip so he has nowhere to go. Felix slumps against the tile, pink tongue just visible over his bottom teeth, eyes drooping shut. Chan hears himself grunt, something low in the chest, gravelly, reverberating around them. He slams his hips forward with every stroke, rough and mean like Felix begged for. Every movement sends spikes of arousal dancing under Chan’s skin, almost painful with how good it feels. Felix’s body loosens around him, but even then there’s hardly enough room, and Chan’s pretty sure that if he’d used even one less drop of lube that this wouldn’t be working.

But it’s what Felix asked for, and as Chan looks at him, he knows he couldn’t stop. Felix’s face is twisted into a beautiful expression of bliss, eyebrows pinched and mouth open in a silent scream. His fingers rest gently against the wall, hardly supporting him. Chan can’t see, but he knows his cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, an angry red.

Chan can feel sweat beading on his forehead, partially from the steam, but he can’t reach the faucet dial now. They’re surrounded by a fine mist, and it kind of makes Chan a little dizzy. But he keeps going, fucking Felix ruthlessly, pounding him into the wall with soft groans as his abdomen tightens and tightens.

And then Felix is moaning, a low string of total incoherence, and he curls over himself, convulsing weakly, head disappearing between his shoulders and hands scrabbling at the tile above them. “Daddy, daddy, yes,” Chan thinks he hears him babble as he begins to still.

“Can you last a little longer, babygirl?” Chan asks, his voice rough.

“Yes,” comes Felix’s voice, his head still out of sight. “But daddy, hurts.”

His voice is wobbly, small and pitiful, and Chan knows the face he’s making. He’s sure he’s crying, cute little nose all red and cheeks splotchy. “So good for me, so patient,” Chan soothes breathlessly. He thrusts, shallow, a few more times as the hot pleasure takes over his body at last, making his legs shake. He comes deep inside Felix, hips pressed to his ass, head tipped back and hands with a punishing grip on his waist.

They catch their breath. Chan can hardly hear anything over the soft roar of the water. After a moment, he pulls out, almost stumbling backwards to turn the temperature back to something a little more bearable, rolling the condom off with unsteady hands before going back to check on Felix.

Felix is still bent over at the waist, leaning on the wall for support, forearm braced against the tile and face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Chan looks closer and sees pinkish-red at his entrance. Blood and lube.

“Oh, shit, oh fuck, Felix, I’m so sorry,” Chan stutters, setting the condom gingerly on one of the shelves and hurrying to him. He pets down his back, wondering how painful it would be if he tried to wash him clean. “Didn’t mean to actually hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Felix looks up, dazed. “What are you talking about?” he mumbles.

“You—you’re bleeding,” Chan says helplessly with a vague gesture.

Felix just smiles, lazy and undisturbed. “I said I wanted it,” he says, tone serene and level. He peels himself off the wall, straightening as he goes, turning and wrapping his arms around Chan’s shoulders. “Mm, it felt good. So good, Chan, I haven’t come that hard in so long. Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind a little blood.”

“Jesus,” Chan says weakly, catching him and holding him close. “I still feel bad. Let me take care of it, okay? Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chan cleans him out tenderly, pressing apologetic kisses to his low back and the swell of his asscheeks. Felix makes little hurt noises, but there’s just as much pleasure in his voice as there is pain, so Chan keeps going until the water runs clear. If Felix liked it—then Chan has to admit it’s a little hot. Still, a sort of prickling guilt settles under his skin. His memory of those moments feels almost blurry. He isn’t quite sure what came over him—just that Felix asked, and Chan, like always, said yes.

At last, they turn off the water. Chan collects their mess, tossing the used condom and its wrapper in the trash and setting the lube on the counter. He dries both him and Felix off, then pulls on his underwear from before while Felix goes out into his room to find himself something to wear. Chan follows slowly, placing his clothes on Felix’s desk before joining him in bed.

Felix curls into his side, pressing sweet, openmouthed kisses to his chest. “Chan,” he says, soft and dreamy. “Thank you.”

“For nearly sending you to the ER?” Chan asks wearily.

Felix giggles. “I liked it,” he says. “Felt so good. And you always treat me so nice after.”

Chan kisses the top of his head. “Of course I do,” he murmurs. “Least I can do after taking you apart is to put you back together.”

Felix giggles again, and they lapse into silence. Chan listens to Felix breathe–deep, measured, sated. He glances out the window, stroking Felix’s back absently. The sun is bright on the gardens below, a perfect day, almost unreal.

Finally, Felix speaks. “Chan?” There’s something strange in his voice, quivering and vulnerable. Chan blinks, suddenly curious and afraid all at once.

“Yeah?” he replies.

“Do you—?” Felix cuts himself off, his voice wavering still. He’s silent for a few long moments while Chan waits, scarcely breathing. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can feel Felix’s against his chest.

“What?” he asks, after a minute has passed and Felix still hasn’t said anything.

He can feel Felix deflate, and the tension is gone. When he speaks, his voice is slow and sleepy again. “Do you think you really can come visit me at school?”

Chan lets out a breath. Whatever Felix wanted to say, this isn’t it. But he won’t push. He knows that won’t get him anywhere. “Yeah,” he says softly, brushing some of Felix’s hair back before it falls into his eyes. He looks down at him, this terrible, beautiful boy. He’s not a monster, Chan thinks. He’s not even really spoiled, or at least that’s not why he acts the way he does. He’s just lonely. Maya’s voice plays in his head. He’s just really sad. And Chan still doesn’t know why. But he does know that whether Felix ever tells him or not, he’ll be here. “Of course, I’ll come visit,” he says. “Just say the word. I’ll come.”

Felix makes a happy noise, snuggling closer. Chan tightens his hold on him, feeling his pretty, lithe body under his arms.

His life, he knows, will be in three parts, now and forever. Before I met you, he thinks. When I had you. And after you leave. How cruel, he thinks, that the most difficult part of the three will also be the longest.

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deathbyseventeen · 1 year

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As the World Caves In

pairing: Dino/Chan x f!reader

genre: post-apocalyptic, romance/fluff, angst | zombie!au

word count: 521

series: To be Together

chapter warnings: lots of allusions to death and dying

summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

a/n: it’s uh... it’s been a while since I posted here. I really don’t know what to say except... hi :) take a chance on this fic! oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy

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{intro} + {3 days from the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}

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The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. There was no wind that day, no windstorms or gentle breezes. But, those particularly sensitive to the world around them noticed a certain stagnant quality over everything. They didn’t know (those who were sensitive to the world), but if they had tried, really tried, and let themselves get lost in the world around them, they would have been able to hear the music in the air. They would have been able to hear the quiet pianos and guitars, the strings and a band, and a voice singing longingly and sadly, all crescendoing into an existence impossible to ignore, and, underneath them all, a symphony of screams just beginning to materialize.

And when the sun finally began to set, and the sky became a painting composed of deep oranges and reds, sleeping televisions startled awake, and forgotten sirens blared to life. The world had officially begun to crumble.

Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. One of his RA’s had run outside, pushing past him, screaming, “Everybody inside! Everybody back inside! Everybody get inside now!”

He had grabbed Chan by the shoulder in his panic and shoved him back into the building seconds before the sirens flooded their surroundings.

He’d never forget his RA yelling, or the sirens, even after the sound ceased to exist. He couldn’t. He’d be forced to hear them again when fear struck him and as he tried to sleep without nightmares taking hold of him.

You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

It had been an early day. After six hours of lectures, studios, and labs, your biology professor had let your entire class go an hour early after getting everyone to observe the growing carrots they had planted almost three months ago.

In an attempt to make do on your New Year’s resolution at least once, you had followed your roommate to the campus gym. You had been running on the treadmill, watching the sun begin to set through the wall-length window (at the same time Chan had been leaving his dorm’s building) when the TVs playing campus news suddenly turned black. A gray popup screen appeared just as the sirens went off-- Mandatory Campus Wide Lockdown. The words went unnoticed by most, however.

A student worker yelled above the sirens soon after, “Mandatory lockdown! Nobody’s allowed to leave!”

A fight broke out. Cocky, testosterone-filled assholes refused to be made to stay. Among them is your roommate. And, as the glass doors were finally locked behind them, you watched as your roommate left you behind.

It would only take half an hour before more than half of the others refused to stay put as well.

Soon enough, you’d hear the beginning of the screams that you’d never be able to forget or the panging against the thick windows as people ran into them, even as you delved deeper into darkness, attempting to seclude yourself from the world.

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3 days from the end

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moonstombstone · 1 year

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The Backdoor

[ You have a new message ]

#The Backdoor #Stray Kids #Stray Kids Au #Stray Kids Fanfiction #Stray Kids Edit #Chan #Chan Au #Chan Fanfiction #Changbin #Changbin Au #Changbin Fanfiction #Survival Horror #Horror Au #Horror Fanfiction

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hyunsvngs · 6 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her.

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed.

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore.

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness.

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.”

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had.

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth.

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth.

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival.

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch.

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film.

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right.

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you.

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday.

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now.

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again.

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation.

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She��s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect.

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.”

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you.

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker.

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly.

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made.

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully.

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation.

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need.

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.”

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw.

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened.

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too.

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure.

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message.

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top.

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.”

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you.

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you.

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you.

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again.

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex.

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you.

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted.

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die.

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable.

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

6K notes · View notes

straykeedz · 1 month

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐛𝐜

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; virgin!chan ; experienced!reader ; minsung if you squint (sorry nari my girl) ; mention of male masturbation ; dirty talk ; corruption kink kinda ; dry humping ; cumming in pants ; mention of a handjob ; nipple play ; mentions of porn and chan admitting he watches it ; clit play ; oral (m receiving) ; cum eating ; chan is self conscious and thinks too much ; confessions ; phone sex (video call sex technically) ; masturbation (both m and f) ; oral (f receiving) ; protected sex ; aftercare kinda ; they’re so beautifully in love and my heart hurts ; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 15k

inspired by this ask, it’s part of the same au.

🏷️: @bookobsessedfreak , @brojustfknkillm3 , @notevenheretbh1

𝐚/𝐧: this was supposed to be a 3-4k words drabble…… :) a huge thank you to @jilixthinker for beta reading this and for her feedback and support ♡

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 18+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

ᥫ᭡

Chan is spiralling.

His hands are fidgety, and just can’t stop bouncing his leg, which is pissing his friends, especially Minho, off. None of his other friends are really paying attention to him, though. They’re all minding their business - Jisung and Felix are playing some dumb videogame on the tv as per usual, and Seungmin is sulking on the couch because, well, he’s the one who lost first and now he’s gotta wait for his turn again.

And Chan… well, Chan is kind of panicking right now.

“Dude, stop, really. It’s annoying,” Minho rolls his eyes, slapping Chan’s thigh to get his friend to stop bouncing his leg relentlessly.

“‘M sorry, dude, ‘m just anxious I guess.”

Minho stays awfully quiet, which kind of upsets Chan, who furrows his eyebrows confused, staring at his younger friend.

“What?” Minho asks, eventually lifting his gaze from his phone and staring back at Chan.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I’m anxious?”

Minho shrugs, his gaze drops back on his phone screen. “Eh. You’re gonna tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

Chan tilts his head to the side, confused. Minho is a good friend, and Chan trusts him. Maybe talking about it with Minho will help Chan, who knows. The older feels suddenly much more nervous at the thought of voicing his insecurities out loud, but at the same time he knows he needs it.

“I have a date tomorrow.”

Minho frowns. “With that Y/N girl, right?” Minho asks, he knows his friend has been seeing you for a couple of months now. Chan nods. “Okay, and? Is that why you’re nervous? You’ve seen her before.”

That’s the problem, actually, Chan thinks.

“She, uh… she doesn’t know,” Chan mumbles, toying with the black ring on his pointer finger, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor.

“Doesn’t know what?” Minho hates that he practically has to force the words out of Chan’s mouth.

“That I’m, uh, a… that I’m inexperienced,” Chan blurts out.

“Ah, that you’re a virgin, you mean,” Minho paraphrases, his voice is incredibly loud and Chan cringes, because that word, virgin, makes him feel like a complete loser. Deep down, he knows he’s not a loser just because he still hasn’t gotten his dick wet at the venerable age of twenty-six, but at the same time he does feel a bit self-conscious about it.

Seungmin’s head snaps in Chan’s direction, and Changbin’s does the same. Even Jisung and Felix stop focusing on the videogame for a good couple of seconds.

“Yes, uh… that,” Chan clears his throat. “I haven’t told her yet.”

Minho’s eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth falls open as he lifts his head to look at Chan. “Oh. Why?”

“I don’t know! I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me, I guess,” he sighs, slumping on the couch, feeling absolutely hopeless.

“Why would she think less of you?” Changbin butts in, significantly confused.

“Because I’m twenty-six and I still haven’t had sex?” He asked, mentally adding a duh?, as if the answer was the most obvious ever.

“But she likes you,” Minho comments, “I don’t think she’ll care about it, if she’s anything like you described her.”

And Chan knows Minho’s probably right, but can’t help but feel insecure about it nonetheless. He just doesn’t want to give you a series of disappointing sexual experiences, or embarrass himself in front of you if you’ll ever decide to sleep with him. Not that he’s expecting you to - he’s just thinking of possibilities and eventualities right now.

He’s not even thinking anymore, he’s overthinking.

“I know, I know. But the internet is full of girls disappointed inside the bedroom, I wouldn’t want her to experience the same thing with me.”

“You haven’t had sex, like, ever. It’s not like you’d disappoint her intentionally, Chan,” Changbin points out.

“So you’re saying I would disappoint her.”

“No, Changbin is saying you shouldn’t stress over this. Nobody’s first time is earth-shattering or life-changing,” Minho rolls his eyes.

“How do you know? You haven’t had sex either,” Chan tuts, crossing his arms over his chest, kind of offended.

“Incorrect,” Minho argues, lifting his pointer finger matter-of-factly. “I haven’t had sex with a girl yet. I’ve had plenty of sex with boys.”

“Boys? Plural?” Jisung’s head snaps in the older’s direction so fast he almost breaks his neck, quirking an eyebrow at Minho. “And what do you mean yet?”

“Fine,” Minho grumbles, “I’ve had plenty of sex with a boy.”

“You didn’t answer my question - what do you mean yet?” Jisung insists.

“Jisung, please. We’re trying to help Chan here, not everything’s about you,” Minho sighs. “Anyways, where were we?”

Chan blinks, gaze snapping from Minho to Jisung and then back on Minho. Surprisingly enough, though, none of the other boys seems surprised. “I, uh… I’ll ignore your unexpected and casual coming out for now, and the whole… best-friends-who-are-apparently-fucking thing,” he clears his throat, “you were… reassuring me, I think. Nobody’s first time is perfect and blah, blah, blah.”

“Ah, yeah. Don’t stress over it, dude. Just try not to cum as soon as you put it in,” Minho shrugs. “Oh, and don’t forget the condom. Be responsible, dude. You know how to put it on, rig-“

“Okay, okay! Enough!” Chan shouts, embarrassed, as he blushes of a deep shade of red until even his ears look like they’re on fire, waving his hands in front of Minho to get him to stop talking.

ᥫ᭡

Chan feels like an idiot, and if his friends were here now they’d totally make fun of him. No, no, scratch that, they wouldn’t let him live this down ever again.

For starters, he spent an indecent amount of time on his phone, online, looking for the best brands of condoms, describing in specific details how his dick looks so that the search bar at one point read “which condoms for 5” length 2,5” width penis” and yes - he literally measured it. He visited dozens of different websites ad clicked on countless of links, desperately looking for the best condoms he could find. Eventually, he bought two different boxes online, and cringed reaaaaally bad when the delivery guy smirked at him and gave him the thumbs up.

And now he’s in his bed. The bedroom door is locked - he’s made sure of that, with his sweats pulled down his legs together with his underwear - free, hard cock resting peacefully on his abdomen. Chan feels incredibly stupid, holding two different kinds of condoms between his fingers, trying to figure out which one he should try on first. When he takes another glance at his dick, another question pops up in his head - should he shave? Usually, he just trims his pubic hair from time to time when he’s in the shower, but maybe you’d like him fully bare? Guys in porn usually shave their cocks, so maybe that’s what girls prefer - he truly has no idea, and he’s not gonna ask his friends for advice, it’s already embarrassing enough. Why is he even thinking about all this? He was just supposed to practice how to put on a stupid condom!

“Okay, okay, I can do it. It’s easy. It’s supposed to be easy, I mean, everybody does this, it can’t be that complicated. Well, not everyone, otherwise you wouldn’t have all these unplanned pregnancies, but -“ he cuts himself off, realizing he was rambling too much already.

Chan is kinda ashamed to admit that yes, he even watched a tutorial to figure out how to do this properly, so he’s fully prepared and knows exactly what he’s supposed to do. He tears the wrapper open, careful not to tear the rubber, and then pulls it out, cursing under his breath when it slips from his fingers due to its slipperiness. He picks it up again, and places it on the tip of his dick, pinching the tip as he rolls it onto his length easily. It feels… weird. Not bad weird, just… weird, but at least it’s easy, just like that article online read, and he’s sure he’ll have no trouble in doing this if you’ll ever sleep together.

Sometimes, Chan can’t help but wonder what it feels like - to have sex. Being so close, so intimate with someone, literally being inside of someone. When he thinks about it, it’s you the someone he imagines as he strokes his cock, mostly late at night, when his roommate Changbin’s asleep. He’d lie in his bed, legs spread, fully naked.

Chan’s been jerking off a lot lately, two times per day at least. He’d grab his cock, squeezing it by the base, whimpering at the feeling of his balls kind of tightening. And then he’d start stroking himself again and again and again until his eyes roll in the back of his head and he cums with a choked sound, biting on his lower lip until he can almost taste blood.

Then, he usually showers and changes his clothes, and feels kinda embarrassed about what he did, ignoring the fact that it’s completely normal to fantasize about someone. He still feels guilty nonetheless, completely unaware that you, in the privacy of your own bedroom, do the exact same every other night - pleasuring yourself to the thought of him.

ᥫ᭡

The night of your date Bang Chan learns two things. The first is that ‘Netflix and chill’ doesn’t actually mean, you know, Netflix and chill. It means sex, apparently, and everyone knows except him. The second one is - he’s absolutely whipped for you already.

He’d been nervous the whole day, trying on four or five different outfits and eventually asking Changbin for advice, and he’d sprayed on so much cologne he had to literally open the bedroom windows in order not to get intoxicated. He spent an indecent amount of time under the shower, washing his hair two or three times just in case - you’d once told him you loved the scent of his shampoo.

When he saw you, the anxiety suddenly kind of… left his body. All the nervousness he’d been feeling suddenly vanished, and his entire body and brain was filled with excitement and happiness and all kinds of positive, good feelings. You greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he never wanted to let go.

And then, when he drove you back to your place, things got kind of… hot, and he wasn’t expecting it at all because he thought that the expression you used, Netflix and Chill, actually meant “watching a good movie and cuddle on the couch” - but it didn’t. It didn’t, because as soon as you both lay on the couch, you started making out like two horny teenagers unable to keep their hands for themselves.

Which led to… now.

His lips are on yours, have been for the past ten minutes. The movie’s still playing, but neither of you are paying any attention. You’re both red in the face, your lips are swollen and wet and tingling, but neither of you has ever felt this good. You like Chan. You like him very much, and you want to take things to the next level - maybe not all the way, not tonight at least.

You’re still kissing Chan, tiny little hmphs leaving his mouth, when you wrap your hand around his wrist and bring his hand on your thigh. And then you move it up, up, up, until… Chan’s breath hitches as his thumb brushes your clothed groin. You take the lead, unbuttoning your jeans, and then, wrapping your hand around his wrist once more, you bring his hand to the front of your panties, and he freezes. He literally stops moving, he stops kissing you and you can clearly hear the sound of his heartbeat pumping loud in his chest.

“Do you… want to?” You pull back to whisper on his lips. Chan’s arms and hands start to tremble. He blinks rapidly, and the next thing he does, stupidly, is shaking his head as a no. Could he be more stupid? “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry,” you mumble, letting go of his hand, finding yourself pretty stupid all of a sudden.

“No! No, I… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Chan is quick to say, placing his hand on your thigh when you try to pull away after unbuttoning your jeans. “It’s just… there’s something I have to tell you.”

You’re expecting the worst - maybe he’s tired of you and wants to break up.

“Uh-oh,” you crack a nervous smile, fidgeting with your fingernails and your cuticles as you wait for him to speak.

“No, no, it’s nothing bad, I promise. Well, it depends on you, actually… if you think it’s bad, then…” he rambles, toying with the bracelet wrapped around his wrist as he speaks.

“Chan, relax. Just tell me.” He mumbles something so quietly you have no idea what he just said. “What?”

“I’ve… never done this before,” he blushes until the redness reaches the tip of his ears as he reveals the big secret he’s been keeping for weeks, “I’ve never done anything… sexual, actually.”

You’re beyond shocked because, well - he’s sexy. Girls probably throw themselves at him, how is it possible that he’s never fingered a girl before? It kind of turns you on even more, though. He’s so hot and so caring and such a gentleman and he’s… a virgin. And you’re dating him. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? You feel kind of a perv right now.

While you’re getting lost in your train of thought, Chan is panicking because, well, you haven’t really said anything since he confessed his secret to you. “I’m sorry, I- I probably shouldn’t have said anything, it was stupid-“

“No!” You exclaim, interrupting him. “No, Chan, it’s okay. I promise, you just… surprised me. It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with it, of course. I’m sorry if I pressured you into anything.”

“You didn’t,” Chan reassures you, caressing your thigh with his thumb. “You didn’t, I promise. I was just caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight.”

You nod. “I know, I know, it was sudden. It’s just… it may sound weird, but I really like your outfit. You’re, like, super hot and I got a little carried away I guess.”

Chan is flustered, and he scratches the back of his neck as he lowers his gaze shyly. “Uh… thank you. You’re really beautiful, too, you know? I was left… speechless when I saw you tonight. You’re stunning,” he bites his lip, looking at you, and then his face drops. “I-I mean, not only tonight. You’re always stunning, I just mea-“

You cut him off by placing your lips on his in a tender kiss, and he relaxes under your touch. “You’re cute, you know that?” You smile, kissing him some more. “Are you okay with us kissing?”

“I’m more than okay with kissing you. It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready for the whole thing yet, but we can… do other stuff if you want.”

“Are you sure?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he nods. “Other stuff like…?”

He’s impossibly red in the face by now. “Ah, like… maybe we could, uh, touch each other? O-Over the clothes.”

You smile at him. “I know I already told you, but… you’re so cute. C’mere.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to your body, kissing his lips again and again. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself laying on your back, sprawled on your couch, with Chan’s body between your legs - you both gasp at the feeling of his erection pressed on your body.

“Can I… can I kiss your neck?” Chan politely asks, and you can’t help but bite your lip, nodding at him. He latches his lips on your neck with a confidence he never showed before, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your skin.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist once more, and catch him by surprise when you place the palm of his hand on your boob, over the fabric of your t-shirt. Chan whimpers, involuntarily jerking his hips, forcing his hard-on on your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure, you beg him to do it again. He does it again, and his own eyes flutter shut because it feels so damn good, even though his pants are definitely too tight for this.

“You feel so good, oh my God,” you mumble, running your fingers up and down his spine, arching your back and rolling your hips to meet his once again and Chan has to stop you. Like, seriously, he has to stop you otherwise he’d cum in his pants and fucking embarrass himself.

He’s about to tell you when you unexpectedly move your hand to the front of his jeans, sliding it right in the middle of your bodies, and you cup him and squeeze him - and Chan fucking cums. He cums in his pants.

“Oh my- fuck. Fuck, fuck, it’s not happening,” he mumbles, hiding his face in your neck in pure shame. “It’s not happening, it’s not happening,” he repeats again and again and you’re confused.

“Chan, what-“ and then you feel it - a warm feeling on your hand, his cock starting to soften. “Oh.” Chan wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “It’s okay, Chan. It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not. Fuck, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” he mumbles, getting up from the couch, looking down in horror just to find a large, wet patch on his blue jeans. He never wears blue jeans, for fuck’s sake - he always wears black skinny jeans, and the one time he decides to wear blue jeans he fucking cums in his pants after you’ve touched him for literally two seconds. “Oh my God.” He covers the front of his pants with his hand, mortified. “I… I have to leave. I’m so sorry.”

Chan leaves in a rush, excusing himself a million times even though you told him it’s completely fine, that you’re not weirded out by it or anything. He leaves even if you begged him not to, face red and pouting. He leaves, but the thought haunts him - he keeps relieving the scene in his head throughout the whole drive back home. He just wants to shower, go to bed and fucking forget what happened back at your place. There’s no way you’ll ever want to see him again after tonight, he’s sure of it.

When he opens the door to his place, he’s hoping Changbin’s not home. But of course he is - lying on the couch as he watches some stupid reality show. His friend snaps his head in Chan’s direction with a smirk on his face.

“How did the date go? Got your dick wet?” Changbin suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. Chan is still as red as a pepper in the face, and then Changbin sees it - it being the huge stain on his friend’s pants. “Oh. You did.”

ᥫ᭡

Chan is surprised you don’t think he’s a real loser, and that you actually want to see him again.

You don’t even mention the accident, and Chan is really grateful for that, even though he still cringes when he thinks about it. However, when he told Changbin and Minho what had happened at your place, instead of making fun of him they told him it’s a completely normal and natural reaction. Up to that moment, Chan had been the only person to ever touch his cock, so it’s completely normal to feel extra stimulated when another person touches you, or something like that. He just remembers taking a huge sigh out of relief after that talk.

You want to see Chan again and again and again. And you do.

You go on fun dates - trying out new coffee shops and bakeries, or having nice and relaxing picnics and watch the sunset as Chan puts his arm around your shoulders, and you end up making out shamelessly in the backseats of his car in the empty parking lot of the movie theater instead of going in and actually watching the movie you’d planned to see that night, and you even dry hump again there, and this time you both cum in your pants. You cuddle, too, so much - Chan really loves physical affection and is really glad you do too, because he really loves wrapping his arms around you, or kissing your cheeks, or hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It’s like you were made for each other, Chan can’t help but think.

Chan is happy, unbelievably so.

For the first time in his life he’s found a person, you, who understands him and makes him feel important and appreciated. He’s been told he’s hot by a relatively high number of girls before, but they all seemed to be after his body and nothing else, and that’s why he never took things further with any of them. Chan craves something more, he craves a connection. He craves true feelings and somebody who’ll listen to him rambling at the end of a bad day, somebody who loves him for who he is and doesn’t care about how he looks, somebody he can be himself with.

He found that someone in you, he’s sure of that.

You’ve been seeing each other for nearly three months now, but you’ve been nothing but perfect to him. Like that he told you he was having the worst day and was feeling so frustrated, and what you did was inviting him over to your place, where you greeted him with a basket of freshly baked pancakes with strawberries and blueberries as well as maple syrup. Then, you’d cuddled him the whole time he stayed at your place, lay on the couch under a warm blanket and put on his favorite movie to try to cheer him up. He’s really glad he’s found someone like you.

Chan has never had such deep feelings for someone before. He’s never even had a serious relationship before - you’re the first.

How beautiful is it, falling in love with the right person? Sometimes, Chan really can’t believe his luck. He’d met you casually, none of it was planned, and he’s fully convinced that’s the beauty of it - the spontaneity is what makes everything a hundred times better. Chan met you on a rainy day and, ironically enough, as soon as his eyes met yours it stopped raining.

He thinks it’s a casualty, you think it was fate.

After wasting the best years of your life begging for the love of a person who clearly wasn’t right for you and who made you feel completely worthless, you believe the gods above sent you Chan as an apology for all the shit you went through in your life. Sometimes, you think you truly don’t deserve him and his kind heart, you don’t think you’re enough for him. Even though you never explicitly told him, at one point Chan could sense there was something up with you, and what really surprised you was his maturity, because he actually wanted to talk it through with you. He cuddled you and suggested the two of you watched a movie so that he could cuddle you, and he spent the whole time placing soft kisses on the top of your head and with his arm wrapped around your waist - until he fell asleep, that is.

That was the first time he slept at your place. Neither of you had planned it, it just happened - you had fallen asleep on the couch, snuggled up to each other, and when you woke up it was already nearly two a.m. and definitely too late for Chan to drive back home. That was also the time when you gave him his first handjob - well, the first handjob given to him by somebody who wasn’t his own hand. And even though you fell asleep right after cleaning him up, curled up to his side and hugging him from behind, Chan couldn’t sleep. In fact, he spent the whole night lying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about what had happened mere minutes earlier.

Yes, because that night something else had happened - you’d told Chan you might love him, and he’d told you the same. It was in the heat of the moment, words spoken when you were touching him and neither of you was thinking straight, but you’re sure he meant it - you surely did. How could you not love Chan? He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more, your sunshine in your darkest days and the most important person in your life.

“Pretty?” Chan’s voice brings you back to reality. You blink a few times, turning to look at him. The room in the movie theater is almost full, but thankfully no one’s sitting next to you or Chan. “Do you not like the movie?”

“No, no, it’s not that. Was distracted.”

“What’s distracting you, pretty?” He whispers, caressing your knuckles to soothe you. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head as a no, and then you smile at him. “Was just thinking about you.” Thankfully, the room is dark, otherwise there’s no way he wouldn’t notice the blush on your cheeks. “How much I’m thankful to have you in my life.”

“Ah, pretty,” he squeaks, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed. He, too, is red in the face. “You caught me off guard, heh. I’m thankful, too, baby. You don’t know how much,” he kisses your shoulder, and squeezes your thigh. He’s unusually touchy these days - not that you mind it, of course.

That night, you don’t end up making out in the backseats of Chan’s car, surely because the parking lot isn’t empty at all, but mostly because Chan suggests going to your place after the movies, and by the way he keeps squeezing your thighs throughout the whole car ride, you kind of have the feeling you won’t be just making out tonight.

ᥫ᭡

Chan pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours.

“I kinda… want to, uh, you know, return the favor,” he bites his lip nervously, blushing a little.

“Favor?” You quirk an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face.

Of course you know what he’s talking about. He’s talking about the other night, when he slept over for the first time and you gave him a handjob, taking things a step forward in your relationship, and to be honest - it was all you could think about for days. You even touched yourself in the shower a couple of times thinking of how his chubby cock felt in your hand as you stroked him.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Chan mumbles embarrassed, gaze dropping to where his hand is resting on your thigh.

“Yeah, I know,” you tease him, “but I still want to hear you say it.”

He’s red in the face.

“You’re cruel,” he whines.

You shrug, “I just love seeing you squirm. So, what is it that you want to do to me?” You run your fingers up his arms, wrapping them around his biceps and biting your lip. He feels so big.

“I wanna… I wanna make you cum,” he mumbles, still not looking at you. In fact, he’s looking at where his fingers are squeezing your thigh. “With my fingers.”

“That can be arranged,” you chuckle, placing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head to meet his eyes. Then, you kiss him on the lips and stand up, and he’s confused. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, hm?”

Chan nods. His legs are shaky and feel kind of jelly as he follows you in your room and then on your bed, lying down next to you - his heart is beating incredibly fast in his chest. He’s never done anything like that, of course, and everything he knows about fingering comes either from porn or the online articles he’s read, and he’s scared he’s gonna mess up and he won’t be able to pleasure you the way he wants to. He knows he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, but he can’t really help it. He wants to make you feel good the same way you do him.

Too lost in his own train of thought, he’s brought back to Earth when you take off your t-shirt in front of him - you’re wearing a bra, your favorite one actually, but Chan’s brain is already short-circuiting. His jaw drops, and he stares at your barely covered breasts like an animal in heat.

“You can touch, you know?” You tease him, grabbing him by the wrist, intertwining your fingers first and then guiding his hand to your chest until he cups one of your tits with his large palm. “You can do anything you want, Channie.”

He looks at you like a lost puppy, still pretty nervous about the whole thing, even though there’s a new feeling in his chest, a new desire that’s eating him alive. “You like it when… you know, I touch you here?” He squeezes your soft flesh lightly, careful not to be too rough because he knows it can be painful.

You nod, nuzzling his cheek and kissing his jawline. “Yeah, I really like it. You can take the bra off, if you want to.”

Chan is about to see his very first pair of boobs, and maybe that’s why his hands are shaking like a leaf as he slides the straps of your bra down your arms. You caress his arm as he gently touches your skin, placing soft kisses on his temple to get him to relax, and once he’s done sliding both straps down your limbs, your reach behind your spine to unhook your bra, figuring it’d be much easier this way. When it comes off, Chan lets out a whimper as he bites on his lip, and then his eyes are back on yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he kisses your lips as his hand finds its way back on your chest, now touching you without the useless piece of fabric separating your bodies.

“You’re just saying that because you just saw your first pair of boobs,” you chuckle.

He shakes his head, “I’m saying that because it’s true. Oh, and by the way… I’m hoping it’ll be the only pair I’ll ever see in my life.”

His words make your heart thump inside your chest, and you find yourself blushing at the implication - cheeks burning red, so you hide your face in his neck. “You can’t say things like that,” your voice comes out muffled by his t-shirt.

“Why not? It’s true.”

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple, but he surely is surprised when he hears you whimper and feels you tugging at his t-shirt.

“D-Do that again,” you bite on his shoulder when he brushes your nipple once more. And once more. Chan finds out he really loves hearing you let out soft, pretty sounds for him - because of him. “Please… use your mouth, please,” you beg, clenching your thighs to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling between your legs. You can’t wait for him to finally touch you there.

“My mouth?” He repeats, and you nod.

“Just… your lips and tongue. Please,” your breathing starts to become more irregular.

You let go of Chan’s shirt only to lie down with your back flat on the mattress, boobs on full display for Chan to admire and worship, even though he’s pretty clueless about what he’s supposed to do next, so you decide to guide him. He positions himself between your thighs.

“Start by kissing my neck,” you instruct, “and then move down. Just do whatever you want, really.”

Chan latches his lips on your neck and you moan. Now it’s his turn to clench his thighs, squeezing his neglected cock. He kisses your collarbone hungrily, occasionally scraping it with his teeth clumsily, not realizing you love it. And when he finally starts kissing the soft skin of your boobs, the both of you let out a tiny gasp.

“Like this?” He mutters against your flesh, not even thinking about pulling away from you.

You nod, burying your fingers in his hair while you grip the bedsheets with your other hand. “Yeah,” you sigh, “now l-lick. My nipple. Lick me there.”

The first swipe of Chan’s tongue on your sensitive nipple has you arching your back in desperate need for more. And he gives you exactly what you want, wrapping his hot lips around your hardened bud, still continuing to swirl his tongue around it. With a confidence he didn’t know he had within himself, he starts playing with the other one using his fingers, the same way he did before, just brushing it with his thumb - when he pinches it, you let out a tiny squeak, and he lifts his gaze to check if you’re alright.

“Are you,” you mutter between deep breaths, “are you sure this is your first time doing this?” You chuckle, tugging at his hair softly.

He blushes a little, then nods with his nipple still in his mouth, and it’s the hottest sight ever. But you need more.

You wrap your fingers around Chan’s wrist, and then you start sliding his hand down your body, past your navel, until his fingers brushes the hem of your yoga pants. That’s when Chan’s breath hitches, and he looks at you like a kicked puppy, slightly panicking inside because he has no clue what to do. Well, technically he knows what he’s supposed to do, but practically… He adjusts himself on the mattress, removing his body from between your legs, and you whine at the loss of contact when he lets go of your nipple.

“You still want to do this?” You ask him, and he nods. “Relax,” you tell him, noticing he’s been holding his breath, “you’ll do good. We’re taking this slow, remember? It’s not like I’m expecting you to be a pro at it.”

He nods once again, but looks more convinced and confident this time. “I’m sure. I want to do this.”

You smile at him, kissing the tip of his nose, “you’re so cute.”

Hooking your fingers in each side of your yoga pants, you slide them past the curve of your ass and down your legs, taking them off for good and letting them fall on the floor without a care in the world. Chan bites his lip at the sight of your barely covered pussy, and the lacy material is kind of see-through, so he can take a glimpse of it. He’s still fully clothed beside you, while you have only your panties on. Before taking things further, he takes his t-shirt off in record time, revealing his naked torso to your eyes.

“You look so handsome…” you whisper, tracing the outline of his abs with the tip of your fingers, hard under your touch. “You’re gonna let me ride your abs one day, yeah?” You kiss him right on his pecs, unable to contain your eagerness.

“Ride them?” He asks, pretty confused because how can someone ride abs? Is it actually a thing?

“Yeah, just let me sit on you and rub my clit on your abs until I make myself cum.”

Chan had never heard of such a thing before you explained it to him, and now he can’t physically wait to try it. He wants you to use his body in every possible way - you wouldn’t even have to ask, whatever you want to do to him, you can do it. He’s yours.

“Oh. Of course you can,” his fingers brush your panties, and suddenly you’re remembered of what you were about to do before you let your hormones take over.

“You can take them off,” you mumble on his skin, kissing him one last time on his collarbone, and he nods, beginning to slowly slide the lace down your legs, finally revealing your nakedness to his eyes.

Chan has never seen a naked woman before, if porn doesn’t count, and maybe that’s why he literally can’t tear his eyes off you, off your bare pussy, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you everywhere, there, for hours, days even. He wants to do it slowly at first, peppering your skin with soft kisses, and they he’d want to devour you, he wants to kiss and lick and bite you until his lips physically hurt, until you both can’t take it anymore.

Your panties are soon discarded on the floor after what feels like an eternity, but Chan’s still focused on looking at you. He looks at you as if you were a work of art, the most beautiful painting in a museum, as if you were the most perfect thing in the world and he’d ruin you with his goofy and inexperienced touch. His eyes move from your pussy to your boobs, and ultimately on your face. You’re naked in his arms. You’re letting him see the most intimate and private parts of you and he’s so flattered and honored and he just wants to kiss you and thank you for trusting him, even though he is the virgin. He doesn’t even care that other men saw you like this, he finds it completely irrelevant, because he knows that from now on it’s him and only him that’ll get to see you, touch you, kiss you and have you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he nuzzles your cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he lives the moment, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his. “Looks so pretty,” he mumbles, still looking at your pussy.

You take his hand, that’s resting undisturbed on your thigh, and bring it closer to your most delicate part. Even though it’s you who’s being touched right now, it’s Chan who shivers once his fingers brush your pussy. A small huff escapes his nose. You feel foreign under his touch, and so fragile. Chan is scared he’ll mess up.

“I’ll probably mess up,” he mumbles, finding the courage to open his eyes and look at you - you don’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. In fact, your own cheeks are tinted of a bright pink shade, and your own fingers are slightly shaking, Chan can feel it.

“It’s okay,” you kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll learn. I’m not expecting you to be perfect on your first try, just so you know that. We’ve got a lifetime together to practice,” you chuckle, and he does, too, although he’s a bit more nervous than you.

“Okay. Just… teach me,” his gaze moves to where he’s touching you, his fingers still on your mound.

You move his hand slightly, and gasp when Chan brushes your clit. It’s dry, and not completely satisfying, but the friction still makes you throb, however slightly. “This is the clit. Do you watch porn?”

Chan wishes he could physically stuck his head in the sand because of how much he’s embarrassed to admit this, even though it’s completely normal. “Y-Yeah, I… I watch it, some times.”

“You know it’s okay to watch porn, right?” You chuckle, “nobody’s judging you for that.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, still quite embarrassed. “It’s just… I don’t do it regularly. Only some times. I prefer to use my imagination when I’m… you know.”

“When you’re touching yourself?” He nods, red in the face. “You’re so cute. One day you’ll tell me what you think of, yeah? For now, just focus on me.”

Chan feels kind of weird at the thought of sharing his dirty thoughts with you, mostly because, well, you’re in all of them, but you seem to be particularly interested in knowing, so he just nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

You kiss his cheek once again. “This is the clit,” you repeat. “I really like to be touched here, but not like this. It’s too dry and kind of painful.”

“And how do you like to be touched?” He asks as if he were in class and taking notes.

“It depends. I usually squeeze some lube on my fingers and it helps,” and then you move his hands only slightly farther. Chan still can’t believe how soft you feel. “But you made me really wet, so this’ll work, too,” you bite your lip. Chan’s now touching your entrance, fingers kind of dipping into your wetness. It feels kind of sticky on his skin, and there’s so much of it already even though he barely touched you.

“I made you this wet?” He can’t help but ask, incredulous.

“Yeah. You know, all the kissing and the dirty talk, you touching my boobs…” you trail off.

Gripping Chan’s wrist tight, you allow him to move his hands up and down your pussy a couple of time, making sure to coat his fingers in your arousal as much as possible, and once they’re significantly wet, you guide him back on your clit.

“You can do anything, really. Move them how you want, it doesn’t really make a difference for me. Just, whatever you do, be delicate.”

Chan looks completely lost, unsure what he’s supposed to do even though you literally just told him. Instinctively, what he does is move his fingers drawing a kind of circle on you clit - he saw it in a video once, and the girl had seemed to like it very much.

“Like this?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, it feels nice,” you encourage him. Of course his movements are not perfect, but it’s still pleasant. “You can go a bit faster.”

When he does, his fingers kind of slip from your clit, and you reposition his hand to make sure he’s rubbing the right spot. “Oops, sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, blushing a little, even though he’s got nothing to be sorry for.

“It’s okay. You’re doing good,” you encourage him, kissing his shoulder while trying to muffle the sounds that leave your mouth.

He keeps touching you exactly like you taught him to, rubbing you delicately, eyes on his fingers and, consequently, on your pussy as he remains quiet only to listen to the sweet sounds you’re making. When his fingers start to feel a little bit dry, he spontaneously dips them back in the pool of arousal at your entrance, and then he resumes the movements on your clit. Once he’s gained enough confidence, the circular movements slowly turn into tight, imaginary eights on your clit, and he’s not prepared for the moan you let out, your fingers gripping his arm tight.

“You’re doing so good, Chan,” you huff, pressing your lips on his skin, holding onto him as you feel the knot in your stomach begin to form. “Keep going.”

Chan believes he could easily get addicted to the small, squeaky sound you make when you’re getting close to your release, and he still can’t believe he’s the cause you’re feeling that good. It’s a confidence booster he didn’t know he needed until now. He kisses the top of your head as he feels your legs starting to shake. He still can’t believe he’s about to make you orgasm despite this being the first time he lays his fingers on a woman.

“I’m close, Channie. Don’t stop,” you stick your fingernails into his skin, and he muffles a whimper.

His wrist is starting to hurt, but he has no intention to stop - he keeps rubbing your sensitive bud like he has no other purpose in life, and in a matter of seconds, he has you cumming under his touch, although he doesn’t realize it at first because you don’t warn him, even though you do let out a high-pitched moan that has him shivering. He only realizes you’ve come when you clench your thighs, practically blocking his movements because you’re starting to feel overstimulated.

“’S too much,” you whine, hiding your face in his neck, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and moving his hand away from your pussy. He’s confused, so you explicitly tell him, “I came. ‘M too sensitive now,” and don’t miss the way he raises his eyebrows.

He made you cum. He was able to pleasure you to the point you orgasmed because of him. When he looks down, not only your pussy is completely wet, but there’s also a small, wet patch on your bedsheets - the proof of what he did to you, and he can’t help but feel proud of himself.

“Was it okay?” He asks you, lying down next to you as you try to catch your breath, brain still feeling kind of fuzzy.

You nod, “it was great. You learn pretty fast,” you chuckle and Chan blushes. “But now I kind of want to do something to you, you know? As a thank you for a mind-blowing orgasm?” You squeeze his thigh.

Chan looks taken aback. “You, uh… you don’t have to do anything, really.”

“So you don’t want me to suck you off?”

Chan’s cock positively throbs in his pants. The thought of you wrapping your lips around him drives him crazy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined it before, especially when it’s late at night and his stupid hard cock won’t soften.

“I-I… I don’t want you to think I pleasured you just to get something in return.”

“Chan, I want to do it,” you mumble, kissing his lips, “‘m not asking just because I feel pressured or I feel like I have to. I really want to suck your cock,” your hand moves farther, now almost palming his cock.

Chan nods. “Okay. I, uh… I really want it, too, obviously. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t pressuring you into it.”

“You’re not,” you smile at him, and then Chan feels you slowly unbuttoning his jeans, and then the zipper is next.

Even though you already gave him a handjob and licked him cum off his stomach, he still feels kind of self-conscious about showing his naked body to anyone else who isn’t his bathroom mirror. Moreover, he knows his cock is not the biggest out there, and he can’t help but feel a little bit anxious because what if you think he’s not enough? What if your exes were bigger? He’s above average, maybe only slightly bigger, but what if it’s still not enough? He doesn’t say anything, though, and lets you undress him slowly, as if you were unwrapping a present, slowly stripping him of his skinny jeans.

You’re naked in front of him, positioned between his legs and ready to touch him, to take him into your mouth, and he’s slowly starting to panic. Chan takes a deep breath when you hook your fingers in the hem of his boxers and you feel him tense up, shutting his eyes closed. He’s spiralling, you can see it, and you don’t want it this way, so you remove your fingers from his underwear. He opens his eyes to look at you, confused, nervous, scared you might just get up and leave, fed up with his insecurities eating him alive. Instead, what you do is look him in the eye as you palm his erection over his boxers, and then you press your mouth on it. Chan has to muffle a moan in the back of his hand, keeping his eyes on you. And then he feels your hot tongue on him, over the thin fabric of his boxers, and his cock throbs.

“You feel so good already,” you mumble, continuing to lick him over his boxers until your tongue is pressed on his balls, and that’s when he involuntarily jerks his hips. It feels so good, better than anything he’s ever felt before. “Can’t wait to taste you,” your voice comes out muffled by the fabric of his boxers. You want him to feel confident, to stop panicking and finally realize that you find him unbelievably hot.

Begging he does when you wrap your mouth around his balls as your fingers tease his sensitive tip. “Please,” he whines, finding it already hard to hold back. He’s not gonna last at all. It’s gonna be even worse than the dry humping thing, he’s gonna blow unbelievably fast. “Feels so good. Feels amazing, oh,” he whines, gripping the bedsheets tight.

“You do realize you’ve got nothing to be shy for, yeah? You drive me crazy, Chan,” you place a few more kisses on his length, “I just want to make you feel good. Show you how much you turn me on. Will you let me?”

Chan whines, a small “yeah” leaving his mouth, and he suddenly feels much more confident than before. You always manage to make him feel so loved, so appreciated, and he’s forever grateful that he’s experiences all of his firsts with someone like you - with you. It wouldn’t make sense with anyone else, it wouldn’t feel this way - so right.

He helps you slide his boxers down his length, which finally springs free and hits his stomach with a slap, and then his underwear soon reaches yours on the floor. Maybe Chan’s cock isn’t the longest out there, it most definitely isn’t, but it’s definitely the prettiest you’ve seen. It’s kind of thick and feels heavy overall, with a thick vein on the underside and full, heavy balls yearning to be touched again. You want to give this boy all the head in the world.

“Your cock is so pretty,” you mumble, leaving a couple of kisses on his groin, where his cock is lying undisturbed. Chan can’t wait for you to touch him, for you to do anything you want to him. “Can’t wait to taste you again, Channie.”

Chan doesn’t even have the time to say anything to you, because as soon as he tries to speak he feels your hot, wet tongue on his length and he has to bite on his lip to muffle an obscene moan. It’s not physically possible for a blowjob to feel this good, and you haven’t even taken him in your mouth yet. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, and he throbs in your palm, heavy and eager. When you wet his sensitive tip with a gob of your spit, it catches him completely off guard, and a shiver runs down his spine, but it’s nothing compared to the way his legs tremble when you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.

“Oh, my-“

You smirk, looking at him as you engulf his cockhead in your mouth, enjoying the way he’s squirming, fisting the sheets and holding on to them for dear life. He tastes kind of salty, but you don’t really mind, in fact it’s kind of pleasant. When you try to take more of him into your mouth, he can’t help but grunt, his balls tightening. You start moving up and down his length, taking a bit more of him in your mouth with each bob of your head, and Chan can’t take his eyes off you - there’s saliva dripping from your mouth and all over his cock, coating his entire length and his balls, and you’re making the prettiest sounds as you take him into your mouth until he’s almost fully buried inside of it.

“‘M not gonna last very long, gotta be honest,” he chuckles, stomach tightening as you swallow around his length. His whole body shakes.

You simply squeeze his thigh to let him know it’s perfectly okay, that you don’t really care when he cums - what matters the most is that he enjoys what’s happening and that he’s feeling good. When his tip hits the back of your throat he hisses, fisting the sheets even tighter until his knuckles turn white, so the next thing you do is stretching out your arm to intertwine your fingers with his, and then you place his hand on your head, burying it in your hair. Chan feels kind of bad about pulling it, afraid to hurt you or to cause you any discomfort, but when he eventually pulls it and you moan out of pleasure he can’t help but raise hie eyebrows in surprise. So he does it again, closing his eyes and relaxing under your touch.

“Your mouth feels so good, what the fuck,” he whimpers, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt of putting off his orgasm. Now that he knows how having your lips wrapped around him feels like, he’s not sure he’ll be able to live without it.

Just when Chan thought it couldn’t get even better, it does. His whole body shakes when you take all of him into your mouth and swallow around his length again. Then one more time, as your hand comes to cup his balls, caressing them delicately, and before he can’t warn you or pull you off his dick, he’s cumming, shooting his load in your mouth.

“Fuck. ‘M sorry, ‘m cumming, oh my God.” He rambles, not even knowing what he’s saying because it just feels so good and his brain feels fuzzy and he’s still trembling and cumming in your mouth.

But you don’t pull away - instead, you swallow his release with a hum. It’s salty, but with a bitter aftertaste that’s not necessarily bad. When you pull off his cock and look at him, Chan looks as if his soul had left his body, lying on the sheets completely spent, his cock softening where it’s resting against his abdomen.

“I’m so sorry,” he pouts.

“It’s okay,” you giggle, licking you lips. “I liked it. You taste nice, just like I remembered.”

“C’mere,” he mumbles, opening his arms at you. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his chest. “No, no, let me kiss you. Wan’ kiss.”

You smile as you lift your head to lean in and place your lips on his. He can taste himself on you, and it’s not as disgusting as he thought it would be. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he nuzzles your cheek when he pulls away. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’re just saying that because you just had an orgasm and your brain feels kind of as if it were floating. Wait until post-nut clarity hits you,” you tease him, poking his dimple with the tip of your pointer finger.

“No, I’m saying it because I really think you’re amazing and I love you.”

That’s when time stops, and nothing else in the world seems to exist apart from you and Chan in your messed up bed, covered in sweat and body fluids, with messy hair and out of breath. Nothing else exists and nothing else matters because Chan just told you he loves you. You don’t even realize your eyes welled up with tears after his spontaneous confession. Yes, you technically told each other you might love each other, but this is entirely different. This marks the start of something new.

You sniffle, and hide your face in Chan’s neck - you don’t want him to look at you when your eyes are all red and puffy. “I love you,” you mumble quietly, but Chan hears you loud and clear, and he holds you close to his chest.

“Why are you crying?” Chan asks, kissing the top of your head.

“Because you… you told me you love me and now I’m all sensitive because I love you too and you make me so happy.”

He chuckles, thinking you’re the cutest in the whole world and that he’s so lucky to have found you. He stretches his arm to grab the sheets to cover your entangles bodies. You fall asleep like that, lulled by each other’s heartbeats, surrounded by each other’s warmth. And when you wake up the next morning, you go again - he pleasures you with his mouth this time, and then the two of you end up dry humping once again, this time without clothes separating your bodies until Chan spills onto your stomach and mentally notes to bring a condom with him the next time the two of you’ll have yours or his place for yourselves, because there’s no way he’ll be able to resist you.

He’s ready.

ᥫ᭡

Chan is starting to believe his boss really hates his guts, because he decided to send him off a work trip to Japan for a whole week, which means he won’t be able to see you for a week, which means your plans of touching, kissing, feeling each other will be delayed. It shouldn’t really be an issue, since he’s being a virgin his whole life, but Chan was really looking forward to spending some time alone with you this weekend.

Three days left. Three more days and he’ll be able to kiss and hug you again and so much more.

Chan changes into his pajamas and slips under the soft covers, and just like every night since he left, he unlocks his phone and video calls you like a sort of nighttime routine he wishes will continue even after he’s returned from his work trip. It’s cute, watching you all snuggled up under the covers and fall asleep together like that. Only this time, when you pick up the phone, you’re not snuggled up under the covers at all. In fact, you’re wearing your bathrobe, one that’s kind of revealing. Chan’s eyes widen and he looks at you shocked, looking already kind of flustered.

“Uh, hello to you too?” He chuckles, looking at you through the camera, and you greet him with a big smile on your face.

“Hi!” You chirp, and of course you do realize he’s red in the face, but by now he’s well aware that you love seeing him all flustered and squirming. “I jus’ got out of the shower.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he stutters, embarrassed. “Do you want me to call you back? So that you can put something on?”

“Why? You don’t like me in a bathrobe?” You tease him, knowing it’s the complete opposite.

Chan sighs, shaking his head as a no. “I think I like you way too much in that. Which is a problem, you know, because I’m so far away from you…”

He truly can’t wait to see you again.

“But you’ll be back soon…” you smile at him through the phone, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “and you’ll get to see me in way less than a bathrobe.”

Chan’s cock stirs in his pants at the thought. Ever since he’d seen you naked he hasn’t been able to think of anything else while he touches himself. Ever since he got to feel you and taste you, he can’t get the thought out of his head.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “Don’t say things like that. Please, not when I’m seven-hundred miles away from you and I can’t see you. I’m losing my mind over here, thinking of the last time we saw each other…”

You smirk, and then slide the bathrobe off one of your shoulders. “Yeah? Whatcha thinking of?” You bat your eyelashes at him, untying the knot on the robe, and Chan’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Are we about to do what I think we’re about to do?” Chan can’t help but ask, a pained expression on his face as he palms himself over the shorts he wears to sleep, feeling himself growing harder under his own familiar touch. “‘Cause I’m down, fyi.”

You nod. “If you’re thinking of phone sex, then yeah,” you bite your lip. “Now be good and take off your shirt, yeah?”

His t-shirt comes off in seconds and he shows his naked torso to you through the camera. He looks incredibly good, and you wish you could run your fingers all over his naked chest and pecs and arms and every single inch of his skin, really. Touch and kiss him until you get him all riled up - soft kisses on his neck that inevitably turn slutty until you’re fully sucking on his skin and leaving pretty marks there. The thought is enough to make you clench your thighs.

“Now you. Please,” he speaks softly through the phone, slightly embarrassed to be the only one who’s so exposed right now.

It’s only fair that you show him a little something, right? And even though he’s seen them a couple of times already, a tiny, muffled gasp still leaves Chan’s mouth once he finally sees your boobs on his phone screen. You’re smirking, of course you are, as you grope one with your own hand and squeeze it. Chan misses the feeling of having them in his hands.

“Pretty. So pretty,” he mumbles, staring at your boobs while still palming himself, now fully hard. “How are you so perfect? ’t’s not possible, you’re not real. ‘M convinced you’re not real sometimes, you know?”

You giggle, pinching your own nipple between your fingers. “I’m definitely real, I’ll show you when you’re back. And for the record, you’re the perfect one,” you bite your lip as you compliment him, still looking at his half-naked figure.

“Baby? Pretty?” He mumbles, a tiny huff leaving his nostrils as he keeps looking at you playing with your tits, on full display for him to see. “Show me something more. Please, baby. Need it, need you.”

“Only if you show me your pretty cock first.”

Taking his shorts off using only one hand is pretty uncomfortable, and Chan has to actually set his phone aside for a couple of seconds to slide them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free, hitting his skin with a loud slap. When he picks his phone again, he realizes he’s a bit self-conscious about showing himself completely naked to you over the phone, even though you literally had his cock in your mouth. You actually find it cute and somehow hot, honestly.

“Don’t go shy on me, baby. It’s just us, you and me.”

Chan nods convinced, and then angles his phone so that his hard manhood is now shown on camera, with his fingers wrapped around his base. Is he doing this right? Is there even a right way to do this? He’s never had phone sex before, obviously, so he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do right now. Should he just touch himself? Or perhaps should he wait for you to show yourself to him first? He opts for the first option.

“It looks so hard. Wanna touch it so bad, wanna feel you in my mouth again.”

Chan kicks his head back into the soft pillows, squeezing himself even tighter. “I’d kill to feel your mouth on me right now,” Chan grunts, not really paying attention to what he’s saying because, let’s face it, there’s no blood left in his brain. “S-Show me, pretty. Your… your pussy. Please. Need to see you.”

The bathrobe finally comes off, and you too angle the phone in the best way possible for him to see every bit of you. He finally sees your pussy and his eyes roll in the back of his skull as he bites his lip. He’s never even fucked you yet and he’s already whipped for your pussy. If he focuses hard enough, Chan can still taste you on his tongue, he can still feel the way your thighs clenched so hard around his head to the point he couldn’t move as you came onto his tongue. He can still feel how wet you were as he moved his cock up and down your folds until he spilled his cum onto your stomach.

“‘M so wet for you, Chan,” you speak softly, and he watches you as you run your fingers up and down your slit, not missing the way a pained gasp leaves your mouth when your pads brush your sensitive clit. “Wish you were here. Wish you were touching me right now, you’d feel so much better.”

Chan gives a long and painful stroke to his hopeless cock. “Don’t say that, pretty. Been thinkin’ about touching you the whole day. I woke up so horny for you…”

“Me too. I touched myself in the shower to the thought of your mouth on me…” you admit, slightly red in the face, as your fingers begin to circle your clit. “I can’t wait to see you again, Channie.”

“Me too, pretty- fuck,” he whimpers, stroking his cock a bit faster now, setting the pace he’s so familiar with. “I wanna do it so bad. Had a dream about it, you know?”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Chan’s cock throbs in his hand at the thought of the dream he’d had a couple of nights earlier. “We were at my place and- and we were touching each other, you know?” He whimpers, swiping his thumb over his painfully red tip. “A-And things escalated? I can’t really remember how or when, but at some point you…”

“I?” You encourage him to speak, touching yourself faster, the thought of Chan dreaming about having sex with you driving you absolutely feral.

“You got on top of me, pretty,” Chan whines pathetically. “You got on top of me and-and took my virginity. I blew so fast, pretty,” he chuckles, “made a mess on the bed.”

“Channie, I’m- fuck, baby, I’m cumming,” you warn him, your own orgasm catching you off guard. It’s so intense you have to close your legs and clench your thighs due to the oversensitivity.

“M-Me too, baby. Pretty, fuck,“ white ropes of cum shoot right onto his abs and chest as he lets out the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. He just keeps cumming until it starts dripping down his skin and it pools right at the base of his softening cock, staining the soft hair of his happy trail and a bit of his fingers, too.

Chan and you remain silent for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths. You can’t wait to see each other, but it’s not just about sex. You miss each other in all the little things, in the routine, in the lunch breaks spent together and the stolen kisses when he drops you off at work, in the walks under the moonlight, in the soft touches you exchange under the covers when you spend the night together - all the sexual stuff is just a bonus.

“Wow, it was… it was really something,” Chan takes a deep breath. His hair is disheveled and he has his usual post-orgasmic grin on his face. Not that you’re doing much better, honestly - you’ll probably need another quick shower before going to bed. “Now I’m missing you even more, though. Wish I could hug you, wanna fall asleep together.”

“Soon, baby. Only a couple of days left and then we’ll be inseparable,” you smile at him through the phone screen, and he wishes he could kiss you right now.

“I can’t wait,” he smiles back.

A shower is very much needed, but neither of you feels like hanging up the video call, so you clean yourselves up while the call is still going, and then meet each other again once you’re done and ready to slip under the covers. And just like every night since Chan left, you fall asleep together, while watching each other’s cute, sleepy face over the screen, wishing you were in each other’s arms.

ᥫ᭡

This time Chan is really, really ready.

Shower? Taken. Cologne? Sprayed. He chose to wear his favorite t-shirt and jeans, and chose not to wear any piece of jewellery. He shaved his beard and put on a moisturizing cream to make sure his skin would be nice and soft for you to kiss and touch, and even applied lip balm for the exact same reason. Chan even shaved somewhere else, not fully, the same way he’s always showed himself to you. And ultimately, he sprayed some more cologne on, just to be sure he smells great. He spent an awful amount of time checking himself in the mirror, trying to ignore the way his legs felt kind of jelly and how fast his heart is beating in his chest - tonight is the night.

That’s also why he touched himself in the shower, you know, to make sure he won’t blow as soon as he puts it in.

Of course, he brings with him the box of condoms he bought a while back - not that he’s hoping to use all of them, but he brought so many just in case something goes wrong because you never know. He rolled his eyes when Changbin and Minho teased him for a bit with their silly jokes and allusions to what’s going to happen, and raised his middle finger at them before closing the front door behind his back before hopping in his car and driving to your place, because you thankfully don’t have nosy and antisocial roommates who are always home.

When you open the door, he thinks you’re more beautiful than ever.

And no, you’re not wearing anything too special like a dress or something revealing or anything else. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, the one he gave you before he left for his work trip to Tokyo, and some baggy jeans. Still, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Chan jumps into your arms as soon as you open the door, hugging you tight and burying his face in your neck, finally able to breathe in your scent after spending a week apart.

“I missed you so much,” his voice is muffled, “‘m never leaving you again. Missed hugging you, having you in my arms. My pretty girl.”

You wrap your own arms around him, pulling him even closer, feeling his strong body pressed to yours. You’ve missed him so much, and now he’s here and you feel so happy you could cry.

“Missed you too, baby, so much,” you play with his hair, tugging at it while he’s still wrapped around you like a koala. “Video calls were fun and all, but I really missed the real thing, you know? Your hugs are the best in the world.”

He chuckles. “I’m happy you like my hugs, pretty, because I’m totally gonna smother you with aaaall of my physical affection from now on to make up for the lost time.”

You pull away, looking at him, quirking an eyebrow. “All of your physical affection?”

Chan’s heartbeat picks up in his chest as soon as he hears your words - of course he understands the implication behind them, and he’s not caught off guard, it’s not that. He’s ready, he wants it, of course. It’s all he could think of for days, weeks even.

“All of it,” he concludes, a hint of a smile on his face.

“Oh,” you rest your palms on his broad chest, not tearing off your gaze from his beautiful hazelnut eyes, “sounds like a promise.” You tease him, kind of wanting to test his limits - you want to know if he’s really sure about it. Him being convinced and comfortable with you is what matters the most.

“It is,” he nuzzles your cheek. “If you want to, of course. Want to show you how much I missed you,” he kisses you on the corner of your lips, “how much I want you,” a small peck on your mouth, “how much I love you.”

Finally, he kisses you properly, his hot tongue in your mouth as you make out shamelessly in your living room. His hands come to cup your cheeks while yours pull him closer by the waist, hooking your fingers in the loop of his jeans until his body is pressed against yours.

“Bedroom?” You mumble in between kisses, and Chan’s lips move to your neck - his touch so delicate and sensual it makes you shiver in anticipation.

Chan hums against your skin, his hands squeezing your waist as he takes a tentative step forward, towards your bedroom. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, doesn’t want to pull away from you not even for one second. His hot kisses on your neck make wetness pool inside of your panties, and you can feel him get hard - then his lips are back on yours as you try to reach your room without pulling away from each other, bumping on door jambs and furniture edges on your way there, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I love you,” you whisper on his lips once your back hits the mattress - Chan hovering over you, his hands on each side of your head.

“I love you too,” he presses his body on yours, and you spread your legs to accomodate him. His fingers toy with the hem of your t-shirt and before you know it, his hand slips under it, brushing the bare skin of your stomach until he cups one of your breasts with his palm and he’s met with the feeling of the lacy fabric of your bra.

“Take it off,” you breathe, craving the feeling of Chan’s hands on your skin. He nods, and you arch your back, allowing him to slip the t-shirt off you.

You don’t miss the way his eyes roll in the back of his head at the sight of your semi-naked breasts, covered only by the sexiest bra he’s ever seen - black, of course. When your fingers tug at his t-shirt, he wastes no time in taking it off at the speed of light - not an ounce of shyness in his moves, and you’re soon met with the sight of his bare chest and abs. You run your fingers all over his muscles, feeling them hard and toned under your touch.

Your jeans are the next thing that comes off. Chan slides them down your thighs relatively quickly, if it weren’t for the way his brain literally short-circuited at the sight of your matching lacy panties. His pants soon reach the floor as well, leaving him in only his boxers that do nothing to hide his erection. Chan’s lips are back on yours as he positions himself between your legs once again, pressing his clothed cock on your pussy, and you both moan at the feeling.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mutters on your skin as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and his words send a shiver down your spine. His hand reaches behind your back to unhook your bra.

You whimper. “Right now?” You let him slide the piece of fabric off you, and Chan starts kissing your collarbone.

“Yeah,” a kiss on the valley of your breasts. “It probably won’t be good, you know? The sex. Since it’s my first time and everything, so I really wanna make sure you cum. I don’t wanna be like those selfish guys who leave their partners unsatisfied.”

“You’re the most selfless person I know, Channie,” you mumble, breath hitching in your throat when he wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before moving to kiss your stomach. “You really don’t have to,” you tell him, but he’s already hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties.

“But I really want to.”

Oh.

Chan slides your panties off, kissing every inch of your inner thigh as he removes the very last piece of clothing covering your body. Even though he’s definitely not a pro at giving oral, since it’s something he only experienced a couple of times, he feels confident in his skills - he had a great teacher, after all. He tries to remember what you told him the first time he did this as his kisses move closer and closer to your core.

Slow, that’s how you like it. Chan starts with a filthy lick that goes from your entrance to your clit, where he starts sucking. He’s a fast learner, that’s for sure. Chan buries his face in your cunt, lapping at your clit and stroking your hips with his thumbs while your body shakes and trembles under his touch as he eats you out. It’s messy, and he’s still learning, but it feels amazing nonetheless. You tug at his hair and he moans, even though you’re the one who’s being eaten out as if the world ended tonight. Chan brings you close to your high fast - even he’s surprised when he feels your thighs clenching around his head already, but can’t help but feel proud of himself.

Your pretty moans and whimpers fill Chan’s ears and your bedroom as you cum on his tongue. He licks your arousal off you, swallowing your sweet release as your flavor fills his mouth - he gets so drunk on it. Maybe you’ll let him eat you out once more tonight, if he’s lucky.

“Channie, baby. Too sensitive,” you whimper, tugging at his hair to get him to stop lapping at your cunt. He does pull away, but nuzzles and kisses your inner thigh for a while in a soothing way as you come down from your high.

“Was it good?” He mumbles against your skin. He’s not teasing you, he’s really waiting for a feedback.

You nod, caressing the back of his head. “Are you kidding? ’t was amazing.”

He chuckles, embarrassed, hiding his face in your skin as he blushes. “Ah, I had a really good teacher,” he kisses your thigh.

“Nah, I think you’re just naturally talented. Those lips are a guarantee,” you smirk. “C’mere.”

Chan lies down next to you, and cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, but you can still taste yourself on his lips when you kiss him. He gasps in your mouth when you catch him off guard by wrapping your fingers around his manhood over his boxers. He feels only slightly bigger than usual and very hard and hot and in a few minutes it’s going to be inside of you.

He pulls away from your lips when you slide your hand under the waistband, finally touching him properly. “Baby. Pretty, I’m- I want you.”

You give one long stroke on his cock and he whines. “Yeah? You’re ready?”

Chan kisses your naked shoulder. “Yeah. Want you now.”

You nod, “alright.”

Chan’s hands and limbs are shaking with nervousness as he gets up from the bed to retrieve his jeans jacket on the floor, fishing the box of condoms from inside the pocket. He pulls out one. He feels nervous as he comes back to where you’re lying all naked and pretty, waiting for him, and all of a sudden he’s more nervous than he’s ever been.

“How do you… uh, how do you want to do this?” He tries to hide his insecurity behind a warm smile. It’s not like he’s changed his mind - he wants this, he wants it very much. He just doesn’t want to fuck this up or embarrass himself.

“However you want, baby. We go at your pace,” you brush his knuckles in a comforting way, “maybe you should be on top.”

Chan nods. He pulls his boxers down slowly, letting his erection spring free and slap on his abdomen. He’s shaking even now as he’s tearing the condom wrapper open, and you sense his nervousness, so you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. He rolls the condom onto his length pretty easily, and then takes a deep breath, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“Channie. Baby, c’mere,” you mumble.

He looks at you with puppy eyes as he lies on top of you, resting his head on your chest. “I’m sorry. I want this, I really do - I’m just nervous.”

You run your fingers through his soft curls. “I’m nervous, too, you know?” You speak softly, kissing the top of his head, admitting for the first time tonight how you’re feeling, catching Chan off guard, because why would you be nervous? You’ve done this before.

“You’re nervous? Why?” He has to ask, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

You caress his cheek with your thumb. “Because it’s your first time,” you smile at him, “and I want you to have a nice memory of it, you know? I mean, what if you don’t like it with me? It’s going to… you know, set the bar? For whoever is gonna come next.”

“Ah, are you crazy?” Chan looks at you with a serious look on his face. “Of course I’m gonna have a nice memory, baby. I’m gonna have an amazing memory, and you know why?”

You shake your head as a no. “Why?”

“Because it’s you who I’m experiencing this with,” he whispers on your lips, looking you in the eye. “And don’t you ever say that again - you know, the whoever is gonna come next part. There’s not gonna be anyone else. I’m in love with you and I wanna be with you for a very long time, so don’t even worry about shit like that, ‘kay?”

Unable to say anything, you just nod as you feel tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you’re quick to dry them with the back of your hand. Chan kisses your lips tenderly, and his warm touch comforts you.

“I, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, eyes dropping to where his cock is resting between your bodies, still pretty fucking hard.

“Do you want me to do it?” You offer, and Chan nods - ever since his friend Felix told him about that time he put it in the wrong hole accidentally he’s been terrified of embarrassing himself like that, too, so he figures it’s best if you help positioning his cock at your entrance.

Your hand reaches down to wrap around his base, and you spread your legs a bit more just to be comfortable as Chan lifts his hips. You let the tip of his cock bump on your clit a couple of times, and then you gently position it on your entrance, still wet from your orgasm and Chan’s saliva. A shiver runs down Chan’s spine at the feeling - it’s already overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Whenever you’re ready, Channie.”

He nods. “You’re not gonna make fun of me if I cum too soon, right?”

You shake your head as a no, “I won’t make fun of you in any case, Channie. Promise.”

“Alright,” he takes a deep breath and then, he’s pushing inside of you.

“B-Baby,” a chocked gasp leaves his mouth as soon as he feels your warmth wrapped around the tip of his cock.

Even though he’s got a condom on, it still feels amazing, better than anything he’s experienced so far - even better than your mouth, which is his favorite thing in the world. You’re warm and so, so tight around him. You take a deep breath yourself since it’s been a while since you’ve last been intimate with someone, and your heart is beating so fast in your chest you’re actually scared you’re gonna pass out.

“So good,” he mumbles, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth as he slowly pushes the rest of his length inside of you. “Feels so good, oh my God, baby.”

Once he bottoms out inside of you, his body literally collapses on yours, and Chan hides his face in the crook of your neck. He leaves small pecks on your collarbone and shoulders, and you entangle your fingers in his curls and wrap your arm around his waist. He’s inside of you. He trusts and loves you so much and he gave you his virginity. He’s inside of you and hadn’t been inside of anyone else until now. The thought has you clenching around him involuntarily, and his head snaps up in your direction.

“Don’t do that,” he whines, “I’m trying to last as much as possible, pretty.”

You bite your lip, pulling a couple of strands of hair away from his face. Chan’s cheeks are flushed pink, and his pupils are fully blown - he looks so desperate and already on the edge. “Ah, it’s okay, Channie. You can cum whenever you want, baby. Just do what feels right for you.”

But Chan absolutely refuses to bust after only putting it in without having even had the chance to fuck you. “N-No. Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna last longer. For you. Wanna feel you just a bit longer, pretty, wanna fuck you. You feel so good around me.”

The first thrust inside of you is tentative and painfully slow. Chan lets out a cute hmph as he sinks back into your heat, not tearing his gaze off you. You’re beautiful, lying underneath him - your hair all over your pillow. He’s inside you. He’s finally inside of you, and he can’t believe it. He’s making love to the girl he’s so hopelessly in love with, and it almost feels as if his heart could explode out of joy and happiness and love right now.

His thrusts are all but precise, he’s well aware of that. His movements are uncoordinated and the fact that he already feels on the verge of his orgasm doesn’t really help, but you seem to enjoy it. Your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and you’re taking deep breaths through your nose as you tug at Chan’s hair. It’s all good signs, right?

“Does this feel good for you too?” Chan asks you, his voice coming out hoarse.

You hum, “feels so good, Channie. Feel so full,” you whimper, looking down to where his cock is entering you slowly. Even though he knows he’s not the biggest guy out there, it still feels nice to hear.

Chan’s gaze drops between your bodies, too, and he can’t help but let out an obscene grunt. “Feels so good, what the fuck,” he whines. “How can it feel this fucking good?” He whimpers and moans shamelessly as he continues to fuck into you slowly. “‘M not gonna last much longer, baby.”

You don’t mind. You just nod at him and wrap both your arms around his waist to pull him closer, and then grope one of his asscheeks with your hand, enjoying the way you can feel the muscle clench with each thrust. Then, you grope the other one, too, and then land a slap on his ass that has him folding like a piece of paper.

“Baby… pretty, fuck-“ he sighs, already feeling his cock twitching inside of you - he won’t be able to stop it. “‘M sorry, baby, I’m- ‘m cumming, pretty.”

“Do it, Channie. Cum f’me. Wanna feel you cumming for me.”

His whole body freezes as he orgasms, spilling all of his white release inside the condom, and it’s the most amazing feeling ever. Chan keeps cumming for what it feels like minutes but it’s honestly just a handful of seconds, giving you everything. You wish there was no barrier between the two of you, you wish you could feel him fully, but this feels really nice nonetheless.

Chan’s body collapses on yours as he pants heavily. He wraps his strong arms around your body, enveloping you with all of his warmth in a tight embrace. His head feels so light, and so does his body to the point Chan feels like he’s floating on a cloud. You kiss the top of Chan’s head, and he can feel your soft and delicate touch on his naked shoulders.

Chan holds you closer, and you stay like this for a while until he pulls away when he can feel his cock starting to soften inside of you. Holding the base of his cock and the condom, he pulls out of you slowly and takes off the rubber, tying a tight knot on it to prevent his semen from spilling, then throws it into the bin together with the wrapper and lies down next to you once again. He feels absolutely spent, and hums happily when you pull the covers of your bed over your bodies as you snuggle closer to each other.

“Is it normal I feel so tired?” He giggles, circling your waist with his arm. You rest your head on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat.

You giggle as well, “yeah. It means it was good, hopefully?”

“It was amazing,” he kisses you on the forehead, his fingers drawing imaginary shapes on your skin. “I never knew something could feel this good. I’m convinced it’s because it was with you,” he sighs. “I’m so glad I waited, you know? Wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else.”

“Chan…”

“No, I’m serious. Everything feels right with you. It’s not just the sexual stuff, all the small things feel right with you. Even- even just lying on the couch with you or grabbing a coffee in shitty cafes, or cooking together,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. “It’s you who make sense in my life. You just make everything better, pretty.”

“Stooop,” you pout, covering your face with both of your hands, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles. “I’m so fucking happy I met you, pretty. I’m so fucking glad you got a flat tire that day, and I was there to help you. My life would be awfully plain and empty without you in it.”

He hears you sniffle and starts rubbing your back to soothe you.

“Channie,” you mumble, voice muffled by his skin. “I’m- I’m happy I decided to open my heart to love again. I knew you’d be worth it, baby. I love you so much, Channie.”

He hugs you tighter and you stay like that for a long while - in silence, feeling incredibly happy and blessed to have found a love worth fighting for. A love that filled your lives with joy and serenity, a love that changed the both of you forever. You’re sure Chan’s the love of your life. He’s sure you’re his.

It’s Chan who breaks the silence first, and you feel him getting hard against your thigh.

“Pretty?”

“Hm?”

“You feel like going again?”

ᥫ᭡

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬! "𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧", 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

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dreaming-medium · 1 month

Text

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process.

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None.

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse.

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward.

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star.

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did.

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party.

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle.

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know.

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup.

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup?

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible.

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup.

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing.

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out.

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn…

He never got to see you.

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped.

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair.

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now.

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly.

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort.

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him.

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them.

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift.

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to.

Mice would get to it before you did.

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin.

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved.

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces.

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time.

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of.

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together.

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his.

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM.

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return.

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much.

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now?

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before.

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago.

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you.

To him too.

It’s the library where he first met you.

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now.

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside.

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working.

Absolutely not.

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful.

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet.

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were.

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves.

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it.

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face.

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option.

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head.

Your eyes met. He was a goner.

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you.

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today?

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere.

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here.

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time.

Empty.

You-less.

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.

What a moment.

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio.

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone.

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch.

His throat immediately tightens.

There you are. You. Beautiful you.

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger.

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something.

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin.

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows.

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug.

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please.

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly.

You turn around with a curious look.

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it.

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics.

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months.

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies.

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you.

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day.

Y/N, please.

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book.

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry.

“Thank you,” he whispers back.

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower.

From foot to foot, your weight shifts.

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you.

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them.

Y/N, please.

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself.

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck!

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world.

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite.

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks.

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow.

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it.

He knows everything.

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained.

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes.

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out.

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments.

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper.

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you.

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him.

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in.

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly.

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him.

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth.

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus.

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day.

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going.

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him.

And the worst part? You said yes.

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date.

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how.

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings.

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother.

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything.

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone.

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous.

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth.

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never.

“It’s with me,” he blurts.

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth.

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself.

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused.

She’s right. What if you don’t?

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table.

Yes, you have.

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water.

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu.

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town.

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late.

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu.

He’s more nervous now than on the first date.

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile.

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite.

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu.

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops.

You stop.

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something.

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before.

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe.

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you.

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks.

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully.

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused?

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out.

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you?

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick.

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth.

Your phone rings.

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest.

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock.

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet.

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance.

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park.

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have.

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket.

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have.

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation.

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it.

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side.

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings.

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours.

The brightest smile stretches over your face.

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now.

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you.

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you.

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe.

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago.

He wants to kiss you so bad.

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop.

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin.

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident.

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago.

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features.

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch.

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up.

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that.

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea?

Is kissing you the best option?

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop.

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety.

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside.

He can’t take it anymore.

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach.

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers.

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t.

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips.

But he is.

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss.

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers.

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again.

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose.

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good.

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer.

He immediately stops.

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression.

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused.

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears.

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused.

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window.

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob.

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident.

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please.

Slowly, your hand falls from his.

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own.

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time.

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore.

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him.

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie.

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation.

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs.

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over.

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you.

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared.

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming.

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.”

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck.

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him.

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off.

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest.

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow.

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest.

Him. You’re talking about him.

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying.

Nothing has ever hurt this bad.

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him.

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it.

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest.

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter.

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling.

A sob tears from his throat.

You grip his hand tighter.

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat.

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks.

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm.

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you.

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist.

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out.

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it.

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you.

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat.

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs.

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair.

You’re still crying. Both of you are.

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest.

All he can do is cry.

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night.

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over.

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong.

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently.

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you.

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws.

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it.

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #bangchan fanfic #bangchan x reader

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godsmenusuperbowl · 4 months

Text

Not Too Late for You ~ *Bang Chan*

Summary: It's been years since you've last seen Chris. However, you still see his younger siblings every weekend during the holidays. Imagine the shock you feel when he arrives on one of those weekends...

Pairing: Bang Chan X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1211

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @plutonieve @kpop-will-kill-me

A/N: I'm not in love with how this turned out.

“Thank you! Please come and visit again!” You bowed your head as the customers left. A small smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter. It was days like this that made your life a little sweeter. Business was running smoothly and the sun was shining. It was shaping up to be a perfect day.

The peacefulness of the moment was disrupted as two siblings you'd recognize from anywhere burst into the store. You chuckled as they sat at the freshly cleaned counter before you and smiled. Before they could say a word, you already started making their usual ice cream order they asked for every time they came to see you.

“And what brings the two of you into my store today?” You asked.

“Lucas confessed to a girl today!” Hannah shouted with a laugh as her brother blushed.

You gave a small gasp. “Did he? How did it go?”

“He was stuttering the whole time and was as red as a tomato.” She continued, earning a shove from Lucas.

“I was not!”

“Yes, you were!”

“Alright, alright! No fighting! I just got this place cleaned up.” You scolded them before you handed them their ice cream.

"It really wasn't that bad." Lucas muttered under his breath.

"I'm sure it wasn't." You assured him. "Hannah just loves to annoy you, like any good sister would."

"Thank you!"

You rolled your eyes before straightening up the bulk candy in the glass case you had up front. It was always the same with these two when the holidays came around. They spent every weekend in your sweets shop, gossiping about everything. But it made sense since your families were very good friends. The four of you grew up together. Until one of them decided to move away to a far away place you couldn't follow. And the thought always made your heart heavy.

"So what are you doing today, Y/n?" Hannah asked, having finished her ice cream. "I mean besides work."

You shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just work and then home."

"So you're not doing anything?" Lucas questioned, less subtle than his sister. "Like you don't have any plans?"

You shake your head slowly. "No, I don't. Why?"

"Do you want to come to the beach with us later?" Hannah clasped her hands in front of her. "Please?"

"I don't know..."

"Oh c'mon!" Lucas whined. "It'll be fun! It'll be just like old times!"

You didn't want to say it wouldn't be like old times because one of you is missing. Instead, you smiled and said. "We'll see."

"Well I think you should." Hannah replied. "You need to get out more and see old friends and remember the good old days."

"What are you talking about?"

"What do you think I'm talking about?"

"I don't-"

“There you are!” That voice. You knew that voice from anywhere.

Looking up, Chris stood in the doorway, his usual bright smile plastered on his face. A smile you haven’t seen in years. Despite the time that passed, he still looked the same. The same Chris you fell in love with when you were growing up together. You couldn’t believe he was in your store right now. It was as if fate had worked its magic today.

“Oh. Y/n.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded awestruck. Which didn’t make any sense. It was just you.

You smiled. “Hi Chris.”

“Hey.”

“Chris!” Lucas piped up. “Don't you have something else to say?”

“Something else?” He paused. “Um, how have you been?”

His siblings just groaned but you giggled. “I’ve been well. I own the store now since my parents retired. Oh! That reminds me. Still have a sweet tooth?”

He jolted at your question before smiling and nodding. “Yes, I still do.”

You nodded and grabbed a chocolate bar from the display shelf behind you. “Is this still your favorite?”

Chris’s eyes sparkled as he took it, his fingertips brushing yours, making you shiver. “Thank you so much! I can’t believe you still remember after all this time!”

“Well, you’re one of the only people I know who likes this chocolate.” You admitted. “But what brings you back to Australia?”

“Oh, well, JYP is giving us some time off. I thought I'd come back home to relax."

You smiled as you nodded again. “That's good. I know we all missed you. And if you need another chocolate bar to help you get through your day, you know where to find me.”

He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. And thank you for taking care of these two while I was away. I hope they haven’t been too much of a burden?”

"We've been delightful!" Hannah feigned innocence.

You laughed and shook your head, “They've been no more trouble than usual.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled and you felt your heart skip a beat. Even after all this time, he still made you feel like this. Maybe fate really did have a hand in this meeting.

"She's turning red." You heard Lucas whisper to Hannah.

You touched your cheek, feeling its warmth. It got even warmer as you heard the two of them snickered at your reaction.

“So is Chris’s!” Hannah whispered back.

“Hey!” Chris whined, hiding his own red cheeks with his hands which made you laugh. He was still so easily flustered it seemed.

Hannah grinned before elbowing her older brother in the side. “Are you two ever going to confess your feelings to each other?”

You gasped. "What are you talking about?"

Chris started sputtering, eyes wide and frantic. “AH! It's nothing! Nothing at all!”

Now, you could go on pretending Hannah was just talking nonsense, but you knew you couldn't do that. Not anymore. You needed to be upfront about your feelings finally. You never knew when you would get another moment to do so. Taking his hands, you looked him deep in his eyes and asked again, “Chris, do you like me too?”

“I, um,” He paused. “Wait? Did you say "too”?“

You nodded. "Yes! I like you too! I’ve been meaning to tell you ever since you left for South Korea and became the leader of Stray Kids. Though I suppose there is no time like the present...”

After a brief pause of bewilderment, his face softened into a gentle smile. Moving so that it was now his hands holding onto yours, he gave them a small squeeze and said, “I’ve been meaning to tell you for the longest time too. After moving to Korea, I realized how much I missed you and how much I loved you. I was just so nervous to tell you. Not only that, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone. I wanted to confess to you in person. I’m so glad I finally got to.”

“Me too.” You mused.

“Yeah! Right in front of us too!” Lucas groaned. “You two are so gross!”

Hannah shrugged. “It could have been worse. At least they’re not kissing!”

You glanced at Chris. “I mean, we could.”

“Wha-Y/N!”

Laughing, you gave him a hug instead. “I’m just kidding.”

When he relaxed in your arms, you whispered in his ear. “Well, I’m kind of kidding…”

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leeminho-hall · 7 months

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.•:｡✧ ♡ ✧｡:•.skz kinktober part II 2023♡.•:｡

list of different kinktober masterlists where stray kids members are included. this list is for me to keep on track with the different kinktober events taking place in the month of october.

.•:｡✧ ♡ ✧｡:•. skz kinktober part I | skz kinktober part III

♡ kinktober by @sugawhaaa ♡ kinktober by @aerasx ♡ simptober (fluff version) by @skz-streamer ♡ kinktober by @triplejracha ♡ sub skz kinktober by @lilquokka04 ♡ skz eight nights of halloween by @/dlmlufics ♡ softtober (vanilla sex) by @whatudowhennooneseesyou ♡ monster fuck by @planet-dusk (op is holding a event where you can send asks with the monster fuck month theme) ♡ smutober by @dreamescapeswriting ♡ spooktober (jisung + chan) by @boydepartment ♡ kinktober by @jinikkari ♡ kinktober by @meowjunjun ♡ flufftober (fluff version) by @hannahhbahng ♡ kinktober by @chanswhxre ♡ kinktober by @delulusungmin ♡ spooktober by @kaciidubs

♡ kinktober by @lixiektty

.•:｡ some of the writers just announced their events, so when they post their official master lists I'll update the links.•:｡

♡ if you see this list, please remember to support the authors listed.

♡ minors and blank blogs don’t interact with the authors.

♡ this list is subject to change, remove, or add works.

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yxngbxkkie · 5 months

Text

baby fever (b.c)

this man needs to chill because i can only take so much 😭 ngl, this is probably the most i've written in a while, and i'm really glad to provide some cute fics for you guys 🩷 i hope you like it!

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Do you have everything?” Chan asks you while unloading the rental car.

You take a peek into the back seat of the car, making sure both of you had everything. “I don't see anything,” you reassure him.

Chan walks towards your mother's house, presents stacked in his hands. You gently rub his back as you walk up the steps. You knock a couple of times before opening the door, announcing your presence.

“My baby's home!” Your mother's voice reaches your ears, causing you to grin ear to ear.

You give her a quick hug before making sure Chan gets into the house okay. You shut the front door behind him and rest a hand on his forearm.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask him, moving to grab a couple of the gifts.

“I got it, baby,” he reassures you with a head shake. He leans down to press a quick kiss on your lips before walking over towards the Christmas tree.

You giggle to yourself, gently biting your lip after he walks away. Your mother nudges your arm, snapping you from your thoughts. You lift your head to look at her, seeing a smirk on her lips.

“When's the wedding?” She jokes with you.

A groan leaves your lips as you start to feel embarrassed. “Not for a little while,” you tell her with a shy laugh. Your gaze finds Chan, silently watching him distribute the presents. “I don't even know if he wants to marry me.”

She lets out a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Honey, that boy is infatuated with you. He'd be crazy not to marry you.”

“We'll see where life takes us,” you mention, the smile on your lips growing when you meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“I want to be the first one to know if he does propose,” your mother whispers into your ear as she walks by, joining everyone in the kitchen.

You playfully roll your eyes, keeping yourself from blushing. Chan gives the older woman a quick hug as she walks by before making his way back to you.

“What were you two chuckling about?” He asks, tapping his fingertip on the tip of your nose.

“Just girl stuff,” you vaguely lie, leaning on your toes to kiss his lips. Chan hums into the kiss, his hands grabbing a hold of yours.

He mumbles a quick, "I love you," against your lips, planting one more kiss before fully pulling away. “Why don't we go say hi to everyone,” Chan mentions, squeezing your hands in his.

You nod your head and lead him into your kitchen. You greet the rest of your family, giving them hugs and kisses. You make grabbing hands at the toddler in your big sister's arms.

“Hi, baby boy,” you squeal, holding the one and half year old baby. He smiles at you, bringing his tiny hand to your cheek. “You're getting so big!”

You rest the baby on your hip, lightly bouncing him in your arms. Ji-ho squeals and kicks his little legs into your side. You release a little cry and point at the little man.

“Watch your feet, mister! You're gonna hurt Auntie,” you chuckle, adjusting his legs so they're sitting comfortably.

“He loves to kick,” your sister mentions, walking over to her son. “I forgot to tell you.”

You playfully scoff as she pinches the boy's cheeks. “That would've been some crucial information, Joon,” you tell her with a smile.

Chan moves to stand behind you, and you can hear him coo at Ji-ho. You glance over your shoulder, watching him smile at your nephew. His dimples are present, and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask him, turning to face him.

Your boyfriend's gaze moves from you to your older sister. “Would that be okay?” He asks her politely.

“Of course!”

Chan takes the baby from you, lifting him higher for a quick second before resting him on his hip. “Hi, buddy,” he whispers in his baby voice, tickling his stomach.

Ji-ho squeals again, more giggles coming from the baby's lips. He rests his head on Chan's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping his shirt. Your heart feels like it's swelling even larger as you witness your boyfriend interacting with him.

You pull your phone out and snap a couple of photos. He'd make such a great dad… You think to yourself as Chan starts walking around the kitchen with Ji-ho.

Your mother pats your back gently, snapping you from your thoughts. She gives you a knowing smile before nodding her head towards Chan.

“Baby,” you call out to him, capturing his attention. You motion your head towards the hallway. Your sister takes Ji-ho from him as you excuse the two of you.

Chan slips his arms around your waist as you walk down the hallway. You rest your hands on top of his, and you feel like your heart's going to fly out of your chest.

“Everything okay?” He whispers into your ear while stepping into your childhood bedroom.

You nod your head and gently shut the door. His eyes dance between you and the bedroom door. You take a couple of steps towards the taller man, resting your hands on his cheeks.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You ask in a whisper, gently stroking his cheek.

“Of course,” he whispers back to you, placing his hands on your hips. “What's this ab-”

You cut him off by leaning on your toes, kissing his lips. A moan leaves his lips while his grip on you tightens. One of your arms wraps around his neck as you deepen the kiss.

Chan pulls away from you abruptly, and you attempt to chase his lips, not having enough. “Baby, baby,” he mumbles, moving his hands to your arms. “What's gotten into you?”

You feel embarrassed at how needy you are, but seeing him with a baby has made you a little feral. He gently rubs your arms as you find yourself looking at the carpet.

“I might have baby fever,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

He giggles and bends down a little to look in your eyes. “Oh yeah?” He smiles at you, bringing one of his hands to your cheek.

You can feel your cheeks begin to blush, and you push him playfully. “You know what? I hate you,” you laugh, moving past him to lay on your bed.

Chan laughs with you and lays down beside you. “I love you too, baby,” he grins ear to ear before kissing your forehead. He peppers more kisses all over your face. “So, you want a baby?”

A groan leaves your lips after hearing his question. “Not right now, obviously,” you tell him, finding his hand before lacing your fingers together. “But, in the future, I'd like to have a family with you.”

His lips find yours and he kisses you passionately. Your free hand grips the sweater he's wearing, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Chan pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “I would love to have a family with you, baby.”

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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baby-yongbok · 2 months

Text

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you.

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot.

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face.

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now.

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it.

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items.

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away.

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next.

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up.

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you.

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans.

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end.

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one.

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month.

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild.

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow.

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after.

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.”

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded.

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

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kjmsupremacist · 11 months

Text

poison sweet off the vine (chan/felix)

Chan, a poor student hoping to make a little extra money while he pursues a masters in music production, lands a gig as a super rich family's pool boy. He thinks it's pretty sweet at first. He'll get to stay in a fancy house and eat fancy leftovers and all he has to do is clean their pool and help out around the house. And then he meets Felix, the bratty, sharp-tongued, skirt-wearing son of his employers. He knows he could get fired for just looking at Felix the wrong way, but Felix, even with his stormy, unpredictable moods and ignorant selfishness, is alluring and beautiful.

Part 1 | next mlist

Characters: Chan, Felix, other members of skz throughout

Genre: smut, eventual romance, angst, I cannot overstate how much of this is sex

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: alcohol, family dysfunction, mentions of homophobia, slut-shaming (both the fun kind and the not fun kind), feminization

Rating: Explicit

Length: 12.4k

Felix has got some shit going on in this one. It's not, like, super serious and we don't really get into addiction territory, but I will say it might be triggering for some people, so please just proceed with caution.

On that, we also don't really see what I would say is a realistic path of recovery or whatever. The ending is by no means meant to be read as "and then they lived happily ever after the end" but I leave a lot out because ultimately this is a horny fic within a sort of fucked up setting, and I didn't want it to turn into a pedantic exercise. So I guess this is sort of me saying the dove isn't dead, per se, but it's not doing well. I'm in no way trying to glorify mental health issues brought on by neglect and self-loathing, so please just keep that in mind.

Chan probably should’ve known what he was getting himself into.

After months of searching for side jobs and apartments, he finally found what seemed to be a perfect solution—pool boy and general assistant around a grand estate, with room and board covered. The house is huge, with large, comfortable staff quarters. It’s a short bus ride away from the University of Sydney, where Chan will be pursuing a masters in music composition and production starting in February. And while the family who owns the place are rich and snobbish, they’re nice enough, and seemed reasonable during his phone interview.

Chan had no reason to say no. So in early December, he packed himself up and moved back to Australia from Korea, away from all his university friends and into a house of strangers. He’ll be missing the holidays with his family, but he wanted to start making money, so here he is. And up until this moment, Chan thought everything was going to be fine.

“You’ll sleep here.” Mrs. Lee shows Chan to his room personally—a basement level bedroom with a small connecting bathroom and a sizable closet. There’s even a small desk in the corner—perfect for when Chan will stay up late studying. “You’ll use the small kitchen to make most of your meals, but we have luncheons and dinners sometimes to which all the staff are invited. Additionally, our cooks usually buy a little extra on groceries in case something goes wrong. If there are any leftovers, they of course go to our live-in staff members. So don’t worry too much over your grocery bills. For tonight, of course, I hope you’ll join the family for dinner so we can get to know you. I understand you’ll be taking classes after the break?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chan says, nodding as he tentatively drops his bags on the floor.

“If you could just send me your schedules as you get them, that would be helpful,” Mrs. Lee says. “I will try to let you know in advance if there are any important events where we need you, but for the most part I’ll leave those decisions to you. I just like to know when we can expect you to be home or away.”

“Will do,” Chan agrees.

“Mostly, you’ll help with outdoor maintenance. We do have a gardener, but we let him know that he can feel free to ask for your help with more menial tasks.” Mrs. Lee gestures for Chan to follow her down the hall. “Here’s the staff laundry. There is also our main laundry room, where our maids take care of the family’s laundry. Since the holidays are coming up, we might be a little short-staffed over the next month or so. If our maid needs a hand with the laundry, can I ask you to assist?”

“Certainly,” Chan says.

“Perfect.” They head back up the stairs. “I believe that’s all I have for you, except to give you your key. Please use the staff entrance through the back. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says. “Are there specific hours I’m expected to keep? Such as being up at a certain time?”

“Unless one of us requests your presence earlier, I don’t mind when you get up as long as your sleep schedule doesn’t inhibit you from performing your duties,” Mrs. Lee says. She rummages around in a drawer in the study. “Here.” She produces a silver key on a plain keyring, handing it to Chan. “Try not to lose it, but if you do, just tell us straight away. We know a good locksmith, so it will be a quick fix. You have all our contact information?”

“Yes,” Chan says, attaching the key to his ID protector that also has a few of his other things on it. “Thank you.”

“I think we’re all set, then,” Mrs. Lee says, leading Chan back out into the foyer. “I think introductions will wait until dinner, as my husband doesn’t get home from work for a few hours and goodness knows where Felix is—”

“I’m here, Eomma.” Chan turns at the sound of a deep voice, and sees his undoing poised at the top of the grand staircase.

He’s the prettiest thing Chan has ever seen. His hair is dyed a pale pink, and grown out so his bangs sweep low past his ears, the longest strands just brushing his shoulders. Chan can make out freckles scattering across his face, and delicate silver jewelry dangles from his ears and neck, glinting in the light as he makes his slow way down the stairs. Most notably, though, he’s in a baby pink blouse, tucked into a short white skirt, with matching pink knee-high stockings.

Chan’s world tilts. He knew that this family had kids, that they were around his age. But at the time, Chan had reasoned that it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d be too busy between work and eventually school to develop much of an interest, and besides, they were probably all boring, spoiled brats that Chan would become disenchanted with the instant he saw them.

Now, he has to grapple with the fact that he was sorely mistaken. Everything is not going to be fine, because his new employer has a beautiful, skirt-wearing son, and Chan has to fight to tear his eyes back to Mrs. Lee instead of staring at Felix’s thighs when his skirt flutters with every step.

“Is this the new pool boy?” Felix asks, and Chan doesn’t miss the lofty tint in his tone. He bristles a little, but it’s hard to stay mad when he glances back and catches sight of Felix’s cute little button nose scrunched just slightly against the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“Yes, this is Chan,” Mrs. Lee says. “Chan, this is Felix, my son. He’s just finished his first year at university and is home for break.”

“Hi, Felix,” Chan says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Felix replies as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You’re studying music at Sydney Uni, aren’t you? For your masters, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says, realizing that Felix must already know all about him; he has no doubt the parents shared his resume and details with their children before agreeing to hire him. “Where are you studying?”

“UWA,” Felix replies, smiling politely. “I’m not sure what I’ll be studying yet.”

“Perth,” Chan says, nodding. “That’s quite aways.”

“Not as far as Korea,” Felix says, and Chan can’t tell what he means by that. “Besides, Perth has some of the best schools, so it’s worth it.”

Chan decides that he’s being put down, but can’t figure out how, exactly, so doesn’t bother trying to piece it out. It hardly matters, anyway; Mrs. Lee is right here, so it’s in Chan’s best interest to remain ignorant and well-mannered. “That’s true,” he says simply.

Felix looks between Chan and his mother for a moment. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he says, and walks down the hall.

Mrs. Lee watches him go with a small, fond shake of her head, then turns back to Chan. “Feel free to head back to your room, wash up, maybe take a nap,” she offers. “I’m sure you’re tired from traveling. Dinner will be at seven.”

Chan ducks his head in lieu of a proper bow. “Thank you again for everything,” he says, and makes his escape. As he weaves back through the house, Chan catches a glimpse of Felix padding out into the garden. He’s got a full bottle of wine in hand, almost as pink as his stupid little stockings.

Chan sighs. It’s going to be a long summer. His only consolation is that Felix will go back to Perth at the start of the next semester and only be back for breaks, and Chan will be able to drown in his homework in peace.

* * *

Dinner is served at the big, fancy table in the dining room just off the foyer. Chan makes his way through the maze of hallways and sees an army of staff setting the table. He counts four positions—the parents, Felix, and him, then. The daughters aren’t supposed to be back for another week, if he recalls.

Mrs. Lee is directing her staff, positioned in the threshold of the kitchen entrance, tasting dishes and sending some back. She spots Chan during a lull and steps into the dining room fully.

“Please, take a seat.” She gestures him to the spot furthest from the head of the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Ah,” Chan says, pulling out his chair but hesitating to sit. “Just water, please. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, don’t worry,” she replies, ducking her head back into the kitchen. “A glass of water, please.” She pops her head back out to the dining room. “Though if Felix doesn’t appear by the time my husband arrives, I might ask you to go fetch him.”

Chan inclines his head, though the thought of it makes him tense. He doesn’t like the idea of being alone in a room with Felix. He’s not sure if it’s fear over what Felix will say to him, or fear of his own impulses. Maybe both.

The table is set before Chan; eventually, Mrs. Lee is satisfied with her staff and takes a seat, too, to the right of the head of the table, opposite side as Chan, which means Chan’s seatmate will be Felix. Great.

Mrs. Lee checks her watch. “I think he just got home,” she says. “Would you mind getting my son for me? We don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Sure,” Chan agrees, pushing his chair back cautiously and standing. “Any places I should check first?”

“Out in the garden, most likely,” Mrs. Lee replies. “If not there, then the pool, and if not there, then his room.”

“Got it.” Chan heads through several rooms to the back door, shoving his feet into the slippers Mrs. Lee had laid out for him there when he first arrived, and punches in the code on the alarm system so the siren doesn’t go off before opening the door.

The air is muggy and thick and oppressive. Chan feels the moisture on his skin as soon as the door shuts behind him. He trudges across the vast second-story patio and over the bridge that looks down onto the smaller patio below, as well as the pool. No sign of Felix there. He crosses into the gardens, venturing deeper until he comes upon a clearing. It’s lined with carefully-maintained plants and a few statues. There, on the other side, sprawled on an ornate bench beneath the grand weeping willow, is Felix. He had one arm draped over his eyes, the other hanging off the bench, clutching the neck of the wine bottle, which rests somewhat precariously in the grass.

“Ah, Felix?” Chan tries. Felix doesn’t budge. Sighing, Chan makes his way across the clearing, swatting a bug away as he nears him. There’s a nearly-red tinge to Felix’s cheeks, obscuring his freckles. He must have gotten some sun, despite the fact that this entire clearing is in shade. Then again, he’s been out all afternoon, Chan supposes. He comes to a stop a few feet away from the bench, unsure. The skirt Felix is wearing is riding up his thighs. Chan clears his throat and tries not to stare. “Felix, your father is home and your mother asked me to bring you to dinner.”

Felix raises the hand over his eyes, squinting up at Chan. There’s a blankness on his face for a few moments, and then a detached sort of recognition falls into place. “Pool Boy Chan,” he says, voice slow and syrupy. “Your welcome dinner, right. It’s seven already?”

“Seven-twenty,” Chan supplies.

Felix sighs, peeling himself up from his perch and bringing the bottle into his lap. Chan sees it’s almost completely empty, and understands the flush on Felix’s cheeks. He watches as Felix yawns, runs his eyes, and then surveys the contents of the bottle. “Ugh, it’s all warm,” he mutters, but downs it anyway before pushing himself up to his feet, now-empty bottle swinging at his side. He sways for a second but rights himself before Chan can reach out to help him. “Well?” he prompts, looking at Chan. “Are you gonna stand there, or are we gonna go to dinner?”

Chan wonders how Felix’s parents will react to the wine, but decides it’s not his place to say anything. “Right, yeah,” he says, turning and shuffling back the way he came, checking over his shoulder every now and again to make sure he hasn’t lost his charge.

Felix picks his way through the garden with ease. How are his stockings still so perfect? How is his blouse still tucked and smooth? How is he pretty even with a sour attitude and alcohol warm in his cheeks? Chan balks at this last thought. Stop it. You cannot be thinking about how pretty your boss’s son is. On day one. Get a fucking grip, Chris.

Felix does trip going from the grass and dirt of the garden to the concrete and tile of the bridge. Chan catches him, staying steady even when the wine bottle hits him right in the elbow. Chan makes the mistake of inhaling when Felix is pressed close. He smells like wine, certainly, but he also smells like lemons and sugar and something that makes Chan want to press his tongue to Felix’s skin.

“Sorry,” Felix says in a tone that’s just a touch too silky for his loss of balance to have been accidental. Chan steels himself, making sure Felix is solid before simply letting go.

“No worries,” he replies mildly. If Felix wants a reaction out of him, he’s not going to get one. “You okay?”

Felix nods, lifting the bottle a bit. “Drank most of it sitting down,” he says, offhand. “Thought I would sleep it off, but…”

Chan nods wordlessly, continuing across the bridge and patio, back to the door. He unlocks the door, sliding his shoes back off and waiting as Felix struggles a little with his. When he offers his hand, though, Felix gives him a look of disdain.

“I’m tipsy, not catatonic,” he says, tone icy. Chan retracts his hand quickly before he can stop himself, stung.

Felix gets rid of the empty wine bottle somewhere between the back entrance and the dining room. When they return, Mr. Lee is just settling into his chair. He looks up and, upon seeing Chan, offers his hand to shake. Chan hurries to accept.

“Chan?” Mr. Lee asks.

“Yes, sir,” Chan says. He doesn’t miss the slightly sharper inhale from behind him—thinly veiled amusement from Felix. He doesn’t turn his head.

Mr. Lee also ignores this intrusion. “Mr. Lee, and no need to call me sir,” he says. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you for getting Felix,” Mrs. Lee adds, picking up a dainty bell beside her empty wine glass and ringing it once. “He’s often late, though I must say it’s not like him to… indulge so much before dinner.” There’s a sharpness under the polite tint of her tone, Chan notes as he slides into his chair and reaches for his napkin—disappointment, edges jagged with embarrassment.

“I just had a couple glasses of wine,” Felix defends. Staff members file into the room, carrying pitches, dishes, more wine. “I’m on break, Eomma. I’m relaxing.”

“Only one glass with the meal,” Mrs. Lee says.

“Eomma,” Felix complains.

Mrs. Lee’s eyes flick to Chan, then back to her son. “Fine. Don’t do it again.”

Felix nods. Chan files this exchange into his mind to study later.

Wine is poured, soup is served, and dinner begins.

“So, you’re studying music, Chan?” Mr. Lee asks.

Chan is grateful the soup is made from cold cucumbers; he swallows quickly and painlessly so he can respond. “Ah, yes, music production.”

“The arts are very important,” Mr. Lee says. “But they require a passion.”

“I believe I have that,” Chan says as politely as possible.

“That’s good,” Mr. Lee says. “We are nothing without drive, ambition.”

Felix takes a long pull from his wine glass.

The rest of dinner goes this way—polite drivel bounced back and forth like a casual tennis match between Chan and the Lee parents, while Felix mostly ignores all of them in favor of his meal. Each new course resets Chan’s expectations for just how horrendously rich this family is. A dish featuring caviar is followed by a truffle risotto, and then lobster. The wine is endless, so Chan keeps to sips.

He also gets the distinct impression that family mealtime is rare, a practice that is stored away in a cabinet with the nice dishes, taken down and used only when necessary.

Chan doesn’t keep track of how much Felix is drinking, but by the time dessert comes around, the flush has crept down Felix’s neck. Still, he seems steady enough, and when he is pressed for a comment, he provides one with ease. So is that what he is? I guess every rich family has its functional alcoholic. More money, more problems.

“Thank you for the meal,” Chan says earnestly when the staff come to clear the last of their dishes away.

Mrs. Lee offers him a smile. “Of course,” she says. “Thank you for joining us.”

“Congratulations,” Felix cuts in before Chan can formulate a reply. “She’s impressed with your table manners.”

“Felix,” Mrs. Lee says, tone cool but meaning clear. “It wasn’t a test, Chan,” she adds. “We just would provide some… instruction if you had been… less practiced. So you could be prepared in the case of a more formal event.”

“Ah,” Chan manages.

“Well, on that note,” Mr. Lee says. “I think we’ve held Chan here long enough. You must be tired from traveling.”

“A bit,” Chan admits. It is true, but he’s mostly interested in getting away from the awkward tension at this table.

“Go on and get some rest, then,” Mrs. Lee says. “Both of you. The staff will clean up here. We—” She gestures to her husband. “—will likely be gone when you get up and will return later in the evening. That’s typical of our schedules. Meals are whenever you’re hungry. Our kitchen isn’t fully staffed at the moment, but Chan, please help yourself to any leftovers. Maya—one of our senior employees—will be able to help you.”

“Thank you,” Chan says. Felix is already standing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Chan takes this as a final dismissal, and hurries to follow Felix’s retreating footsteps down the hall.

He doesn’t catch up to him; the steps leading down to the staff quarters are closer. As he descends, he looks back and catches a glimpse of the swishing white of the skirt and the faintest whiff of sugary lemons.

* * *

Chan collapsed into sleep as soon as he got settled in his room, exhaustion pulling him down into unconsciousness almost violently. When he wakes, the house is still and dark, the air in his room stale. There’s a damp patch directly beneath his body on the sheets from a small accumulation of sweat—he must not have moved a muscle since shutting his eyes.

Though fatigue weighs on his limbs, his mind is decidedly awake, so Chan pushes himself up, slapping around for his phone and then groaning when the bright screen sears his eyeballs.

Eventually, he discerns that it is 5:17 a.m. Chan’s an early riser, but not this early, so he blames it on the nap he took before dinner yesterday. In any case, it can’t be jetlag, since Korea is an hour behind Australia. Chan gets up and dressed, bumbling around his room quietly and trying to kill a little time.

Around six, his stomach growls angrily, so he resigns himself to human interaction and opens his door, making for the kitchen.

The light is on when he gets there, and an older woman is stacking dishes in one of the cupboards. She must have heard Chan approach, or else simply has a great sixth sense, because she turns as he enters.

“Chan?” she asks. She’s white, unlike most of the staff, with weathered skin and crooked teeth and piercing eyes. Chan guesses she must be in her mid-fifties; her hair is just beginning to grey.

“Ah, yes,” he says, realizing it was more a question than a greeting.

“Maya,” the woman says, and some neural pathway manages to fire in Chan’s brain and reminds him that this must be the woman Mrs. Lee mentioned the night before. “Good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Chan replies.

“You hungry?” She returns to her task, sliding some plates into place.

“Yes,” Chan says.

“Me too.” She takes the last handful of silverware and files it into a drawer. “How about some bacon and eggs?”

“That would be amazing,” Chan says. “Can I help?”

“If you want toast, it’s in here,” Maya says, tapping a long, skinny cabinet door as she shuffled past on her way to the fridge. “Could you grab me a slice? Not toasted, though, just leave it on a plate. Do you want coffee?”

“Yes please,” Chan says, taken aback by her blunt but warm welcome, lurching into motion and crossing to the cabinet.

Chan makes toast and Maya cooks at the stove, coffeemaker brewing to the side. “Mr. and Mrs. Lee are already gone,” Maya tells him without him even asking. “Felix will get up anywhere between seven and noon. The girls will be the same. Generally, as long as you’re polite and you don’t get… underfoot, you’ll find your time here to be quite pleasant.”

Chan registers that she’s offering him some valuable advice. “I’ll keep it in mind, thank you,” he says.

Maya looks him over out of the corner of her eye. “You seem like a nice young man, though,” she says. “I doubt you’ll have a problem.”

“Have there been… problems before?” Chan ventures.

Maya is quiet for a moment, but eventually she responds. “Yes, we’ve had a few pool boys in the past. Of course, some simply moved away, but.. we had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls.” She turns and Chan sees she’s done cooking—she’s holding two perfect plates of bacon and eggs. “Not just the pool boys, of course, other staff members have been fired for similar reasons. It’s usually that, or stealing.” She offers Chan one of the plates.

“Thank you,” he says. “And thank you for explaining. I am just here to earn some money while I’m in school, though, so you’re right, I doubt I’ll have a problem.” That is, unless Felix takes over my brain, he adds silently.

The leathery skin of Maya’s cheeks wrinkles as the corners of her mouth tug up in a small smile. “Good.” She nods towards the door. “Go on, find a spot at the island. Take your toast. I’ll bring the coffee and jam.”

Chan’s just finishing up his food when Felix stumbles in, head in his hands. He’s barefaced and puffy-eyed and wrapped in a simple silk robe. It hangs loose at the chest. Chan snaps his gaze back to his plate before he can get caught looking. Felix slumps into a seat at the far end of the island.

Maya has already finished eating, and was in the kitchen cleaning up, but she comes in now with a mug of coffee and a small tablet of medicine in the other hand, tsking at him softly.

“Thank you,” Felix grumbles quietly. “I haven’t thrown up yet, but if I do, I’ll clean it myself.”

Maya hums her approval. “Just toast for now?”

“Yes please,” Felix says.

Chan listens to this exchange attentively. This Felix is entirely different from the one he met yesterday. He kind of expected him to snap at Maya, to be antagonistic the way he was before, but instead he’s small and quiet and contrite. Maybe Chan misread him. Or maybe his hangover is just that awful.

Felix downs the pill Maya brought him with a soft groan. There’s a heavy silence save for the soft scraping of Chan’s fork against his plate. And then—

“No, I don’t usually drink like that,” Felix says flatly, and Chan nearly jumps out of his skin.

“I didn’t say you did,” he replies quietly once he recovers.

“You were thinking it,” Felix says. “Last night. And yes, I’m usually polite to our staff. I’m spoiled, but I’m not a monster.”

The Felix Chan met yesterday had been a bit of a monster, rude and arrogant and selfish, so Chan doesn’t know if he buys that, but he just puts his utensils down and looks up at Felix, holding his gaze. “Okay,” he says.

“You’re not smarter than me, okay?” He says it with such finality.

Chan’s not exactly sure what he means. “Uh, okay,” he agrees anyway, taking his final bite of toast and washing it down with the last of his coffee.

Felix nods and goes back to being miserable into his palms. Chan almost feels bad for him—almost.

He brings his dishes back to the kitchen, protesting weakly when Maya takes them.

“Your job isn’t in here,” she says. “Go on, tend to the pool before it gets too hot.”

“Thank you,” Chan says, and slips out the front entrance so he doesn’t have to confront Felix again, heading back to his room for some sunblock and a bottle of water.

Though it’s only a bit past seven by the time Chan makes it outside, it’s already punishingly hot. He tries to make quick work of it, skimming off dead leaves and dead bugs and other unidentifiable debris. He tests the water, tests the filters, tests the temp, and clears the pool deck of debris as well. He checks the stock of towels, water bottles, liquor and ice and mixers behind the bar on the far end of the patio. By the time the pool and deck look spotless, it’s nearing eleven and Chan is drenched in sweat. He retreats to the shade, treating himself to a bottle of water.

He doesn’t see Felix approach, but suddenly the boy is standing over him, dressed in nothing but short black swim trunks, sunglasses pushed back over his hair.

“Come float with me,” he says. “You’re gonna die of heatstroke if you don’t.”

Chan grunts, taking another swig of water. “I'm supposed to be working.”

“Well, are you?” Felix asks. “Working? The pool’s already clean. Jerry isn’t here today, so there’s no gardening to do. Your only responsibility now is keeping me company.”

Chan’s still not sure how to take this shift in attitude. “I don’t think that was in the job description.”

Felix’s eyes narrow, his eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. “Fine, sit here and melt then, I don’t care.” He turns to go; Chan finds himself wounded somehow by the sourness in his voice.

“Hey, alright, alright,” he says quickly, pushing himself up onto his feet and tugging his tank top off. “You’re right, anyway, I’m melting.”

Felix turns back, and his gaze is bright again. “Good,” he says, and slips into the deep end.

Chan joins him, and has to admit the relief of being in the cool water is almost overwhelming. He paddles out to Felix, tipping onto his back. “Feeling better?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” Felix says. “Toast, coffee, and antiemetics work wonders.”

Chan can’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s what Maya gave you?”

“What, did you think it was an antidepressant or something?” Felix asks. When Chan hesitates, he groans. “We’re not that stereotypical. Rich family with tortured children. No, we’re just about regular in terms of dysfunction.”

Chan isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to this, so he just kind of hums.

“What’s your family like?” Felix asks. He floats into Chan; their shoulders bump and settle against each other. Neither of them move to pull away.

“Ah, I dunno, we’re pretty boring,” Chan says. “Grew up here, actually. Moved back to Korea. I have two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. Hannah’s in secondary school. Lucas is still in primary.”

“And you’re going into music,” Felix says, like he’s reviewing a file.

“Trying to, anyway,” Chan replies.

“I wish I could go into music,” Felix says. “But Abeoji says it’s not sensible. So I’m studying business and communications. He wants me to take over for him.”

Chan can’t conjure up much sympathy. No matter what Felix does, he’ll be doted on and provided for for the rest of his life. He has a path laid out before him; all he has to do is walk it. If he says he wants to walk it but is too tired, his parents would probably conjure up a gold chariot to carry him down it instead. Maybe it’s not what he wants, but it’s secure. Chan wishes he had security.

He feels tiny fingers on his bicep and looks up. Felix is ghosting a hand over the muscle, watching Chan, waiting.

“What?” Chan asks.

“Do your parents know you’re gay?” Felix asks bluntly.

Chan blinks. “Uh, how did you know I’m gay?”

Felix gives him a look. “Please,” he says. “I already told you, you’re not smarter than me.”

“Yes, my parents know I’m gay,” Chan says, sighing. “Why?”

Is Felix moving closer? “How do they feel about knowing?”

“They’re supportive,” Chan says uncertainly. Felix’s hand is still on his arm. His lips have gotten color back into them, pink-red and plush, Cupid’s bow all dramatic corners and enticing. Chan can smell him over the chlorine and sunscreen. Lemons and sugar and something else. He swallows, hoping Felix doesn’t see.

“Lucky you,” Felix says. “How do you feel about knowing it?”

“I’m not emotionally constipated, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Chan says. He can’t stop staring at Felix’s lips. He wants to grab his little wrist. He wants to grab both of them, wrap his arms around Felix’s waist, pin his hands behind his back, and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. “I’m very comfortable with who I am.”

“Lucky you,” Felix repeats. Closer still; his eyes are half-lidded. Chan could count his freckles. He could kiss every one. “Lucky me.”

We had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls. Felix wouldn’t be any different, Chan knows. Chan would be fired on the spot. He needs an escape, so he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head, wrenching himself from the lust-addled stupor Felix has somehow coaxed him into. “If you don’t usually drink like you did last night, then why did you? Last night?”

It works, at least; Felix pushes away. “I’m hungry,” he says instead of answering, paddling over to the ladder. “Let’s get lunch.”

Chan accepts this, hurrying to follow him.

* * *

The next week passes mostly in this way. Chan gets up early, cleans, spends the midday either lounging or helping one of the other members of the staff. Maya cooks a lot of his meals. Felix comes to bother him on occasion, demands for his time or attention. When Chan accepts, Felix is bright and sunny. His air of general superiority never goes away, but he’s fun to hang out with when he’s not actively trying to get Chan to touch him. When Chan rejects him, too busy with work or too tired to withstand the teasing, Felix’s entire disposition shifts, dour and sulky and often rude. He retreats into himself for the rest of the day, punishing Chan by punishing himself. I guess he’s just used to getting his way, Chan thinks to himself. Not a monster. Just spoiled.

Still, in the back of his mind, Chan remembers the first day. What had Chan done that day to elicit the moodier Felix? Was it something Chan had done at all, or was he simply a convenient target for Felix’s ire? He’s not sure. He’s not sure which option he dislikes more.

The girls arrive that weekend. Chan meets them briefly; Rachael, the eldest, is much like her mother, and will be out most days because she has an internship. Olivia, the youngest, is sweet and funny but spends most of her time chatting on the phone with her boarding school friends. Their parents, at least, had the foresight of putting all of them in separate wings, so there’s very little chatter about the house, even when all three are home. Felix has rooms on the fourth and highest floor of the house, and overlooks the back patio, gardens, and pool. Olivia is in a tower to the east—like, a literal, actual tower; Rachael sleeps on the third floor in the western area of the house, nearer to the elevator and overlooking the front drive. The primary suite takes up a majority of the rest of the third floor, which is about all that Chan knows. He’s only been as high as the second floor once, and it was to fetch something for one of the maids. It’s mostly guest rooms and entertaining space.

Felix’s sisters are friendly, but they generally keep to themselves even when they are at home. Chan imagines they’re skittish around new male hires, and can’t blame him. He wants to tell them they don’t have anything to worry about, but knows it won’t do any good. Still, the idea does give him some dark amusement. Don’t worry about me, girls. It’s your brother I want.

And god, does Chan want. Felix is always in short little skirts and dresses, sometimes with stockings and other ridiculous little accessories, and is usually made up too, with sparkly eyeshadow and dark eyeliner and smudged mascara and sticky lip gloss on his pouty lips. He always ends up in Chan’s space whenever he can get away with it, coming up to him when he’s working on the pool or settling in the grass beside him in the garden or perching on a running washer while Chan works on a new load of laundry. He leans in close until Chan’s head is filled with the smell of him, taunting Chan, daring him to take.

Chan maintains his composure as best as he can over the next couple weeks, better than the first day at the pool now that he knows what he’s in for. Felix asks him about himself, and Chan answers delicately. He doesn’t pry into Felix’s personal life. He tells himself it’s because he’s being professional, or that he doesn’t want to give off the impression that he’s interested in Felix, which he fears will only make him bolder. But really, he knows it’s because he’s afraid that he’ll like what he finds, dragging him impossibly deeper into this weird psychosexual vortex, or else that he won’t like what he finds, but will nonetheless be enraptured by Felix’s terrible beauty.

He even jerks off to the thought of Felix despite his guilt, hoping it might cure him of his desire, but it does little to curb his impulses. Instead, it fills his dreams with Felix. Tortured, awake and asleep.

It’s not like Felix is helping in the slightest. If it were just in Chan’s head, he could probably bear it, stuff it away in some dark corner of his mind and soldier on. But the problem is, Felix seems to be determined to make Chan crack. He’s not even sure if Felix actually wants him, or just loves to toy with him. Either way, it’s kind of working. Chan is a man possessed.

Some days are like the first day, though. It doesn’t happen often, but Felix will disappear, and when he returns, it’s with alcohol in hand and an invisible veil over his features. He gets drunk and doesn’t speak to Chan or anybody else and stumbles off to bed. The next morning he pays the price for his indulgence, miserable but resigned. It’s almost like he’s punishing himself, but Chan doesn’t know for what. Still, by noon, he’s his regular self again, probing and selfish and dripping sweet poison that makes Chan nearly lose all sense.

Chan does all he can to cling to his sanity. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted, he tells himself one hot morning as he pours himself a lemonade behind the bar, chores finally done. No matter what he does. You can’t control him, but you can control yourself.

And, of course, Felix appears. He’s in a little skort-bottomed bikini, baby pink with cherries smattering the surface of the fabric and heart-shaped pink sunglasses slung over the string in-between to the two cups on his chest. Chan feels a heat rise to his cheeks immediately, and fixes his gaze determinedly on Felix’s face instead.

“Can you mix drinks?” Felix asks, hopping up onto one of the barstools. “You used to bartend, right?”

“Uh, yes,” Chan says.

“Make me a Sex on the Beach,” Felix says, and Chan tries not to choke on his next sip of lemonade.

“D’you even know what’s in one of those, or are you just saying it because you like the name?” he asks with raised eyebrows, suppressing a cough.

“Vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice, and cranberry juice,” Felix rattles off immediately. “And sometimes those cherries or an orange slice. But I like mine with more peach schnapps and less vodka.”

Chan sighs at him. “I can’t just feed you alcohol. I don’t care if you’re old enough, I shouldn’t enable you. Your parents will kill me if you swan into dinner drunk on cocktails I made you.”

“I won’t get drunk off one cocktail,” Felix says. “Especially if you make it with less vodka and more schnapps.” When Chan hesitates, Felix wheedles, “Fine, no vodka at all. I just wanted to watch you make it, really. That’s all.”

“What?” Chan blinks at him stupidly. “Why?”

“You have nice arms,” Felix replies, like it’s simple. “I like strong guys, you know.”

“Well, I’m definitely not doing it now,” Chan mutters.

“Chan.”

“Felix.”

“Please?” Felix makes his eyes big and sad and pitiful.

“Will you lay off if I do?” Chan barters.

“Pinky-swear,” Felix says, offering his pinky.

Chan links his reluctantly. “Okay, fine. Just one, though. No vodka, just schnapps.”

Felix keeps to his word. He doesn’t say anything else suggestive or flirty. What he does instead, Chan thinks as he lifts a bottle to measure and watches Felixfollow the line of his arm, is much worse. His eyes darken, his tongue poking out to swipe over his gloss-covered lips. He drags his gaze over Chan’s body, hiding nothing about it, about where he’s staring and why. Chan is embarrassed by the attention, of course, but mostly it all just goes straight to his dick. Felix is practically begging Chan to fuck him, and Chan wishes more than anything he didn’t have to say no.

He finishes making the drink, dropping a couple of maraschino cherries in, and even finds a pink umbrella to garnish it along with a matching straw.

“Thank you.” Felix’s voice is even deeper and huskier than usual. Chan clenches his fist around the neck of the schnapps bottle as he moves to put it away. “Ooh, this is really good. You must’ve been popular as a bartender.”

“I got good tips.” He cleans off the counter and dries his hands. “I’m, uh, gonna go in and see if Maya needs anything from me. Leave the glass in the sink when you’re done. I’ll clean it later.” He starts walking before he even gets an answer.

But Felix’s voice floats over to him on the wind, sweet poison just like the drink in his hand. “See you later, Chan.”

Chan doesn’t go see if Maya needs anything. He heads straight to his room, locks the door behind him, and turns the shower on. He strips quickly, throwing his clothes on the floor and steps in under the cold water, chest heaving.

He comes with his forehead pressed to the cool tile, icy water pounding against his back and fist wrapped around his cock. It barely keeps the heat beneath his skin at a simmer.

When he goes back to the pool, Felix is nowhere to be found. The glass is clean and drying on the rack.

* * *

It’s on a particularly hot day that the last of Chan’s resolve melts into nothing.

Felix’s parents are both out, his father at work and his mother at some kind of social gathering; his sisters are gone, too—Rachael at her internship and Olivia at a friend’s house, and most of the staff have already taken leave for the holidays—Christmas is less than a week away. So it’s just Chan and Maya, and Felix.

Felix came down to breakfast that morning in something rather modest, actually—a light, flowy skirt that fluttered a few inches above his knees, and a plain t-shirt tucked into the waistband. Simple and demure. Chan had let it lull him to a false sense of security, thinking, it’s too hot today for mischief anyway, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Chan’s checking one of the filters in the shallow end of the pool, water lapping at his thighs, when Felix pokes his head out the back door. “Chan,” he calls.

“Yes?” Chan looks up, rinsing his hands off in the pool water.

“Can you help me? The zipper on my skirt is stuck, and I can’t twist it around to the front to see what’s wrong.”

Chan knows it’s dangerous. His promise to himself from the week before echoes faintly in his head. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted. But Felix looks genuinely upset. And it’s not like there’s anyone else to help him—Maya’s probably busy with the laundry, or working on lunch since their private chef is off until Christmas Eve.

It’s just a zipper, Chris, he tells himself. You can handle a fucking zipper. “Sure, lemme just dry off.”

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” Felix replies, disappearing inside again.

Chan grabs a towel and runs it over his legs, just so he doesn’t drip all over the floors, and then chucks it on a nearby pool chair and ducks into the cool relief of the house. He pads across the hall and knocks on the bathroom door.

Felix opens it and Chan slips inside, trying not to stare. Felix is shirtless, wearing just his skirt and a pout. Unlike Chan, he doesn’t try to hide his staring at all; Chan considers only now that he should’ve put a shirt on before coming in, or at least kept the towel as some kind of buffer.

Not that it would’ve done anything, he thinks wearily as he gestures for Felix to turn around so he can look at the zipper. He’s as incorrigible and fickle as they come.

The zipper is, in fact, stuck—Chan has to wrestle with the fabric as delicately as possible, but growing up with a little sister wasn’t for nothing, and eventually he manages to free it without putting a snag in a single thread. He doesn’t unzip it all the way, just far enough that it’ll be easy for Felix to reach. He’s honestly a little bit afraid that Felix is naked under the skirt, and that interaction is the last thing he needs.

“All set,” he says, cringing at the way his voice comes out, hoarse and weak.

He turns to leave, but one of Felix’s tiny hands curls around his wrist, pulling him up short. “Finish unzipping it for me,” he says. “It’s hard for me to reach.”

“Felix.” Chan turns back around. “You can do it yourself.”

“Why don’t you wanna do it for me?” There’s that pout again, the pretty pink lips, glossy and so inviting; the wide, pitiful eyes. Chan almost falls for it, too entranced.

“You know why.” Chan tries to gently pull away, but Felix’s grip is too strong. “Felix,” he repeats. He thinks maybe he’s pleading with him, please, have a little mercy on me.

But Chan isn’t sure Felix knows how to be merciful, at least not in the face of something he wants. “Unzip me,” Felix demands, voice soft and almost petulant. “You said you’d help.”

Just unzip him and run, then, Chan thinks, sighing and moves behind Felix again, shaking his hand until Felix lets him go. He pulls the zipper down all the way and nearly bites his tongue so he doesn’t curse out loud.

He’s cursing a lot in his head, though. Fuck, shit fuck fuck fuck shit, oh fuck. Because Felix isn’t naked under the skirt. It’s worse.

Felix shimmies his hips a little so the skirt falls to the floor. He steps out of the puddle of fabric, then bends at the waist to pick it up. Fucker, Chan thinks. “What? D’you like them?” Felix asks, throwing Chan a glance over his shoulder. “Hyung?”

What a stupid question. Chan tips his head back, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead of at Felix’s cute little ass wrapped in a baby blue swimsuit bottom that’s only a few square centimeters of fabric away from being an honest-to-god thong. Felix has them hiked up over his hips, leaving very little to Chan’s imagination. He wants to escape before he sees what the front looks like and abandons all of his feverish promises of goodness right here and now.

“Felix,” Chan says through gritted teeth. “I don’t think your parents would appreciate this behavior. I certainly don’t.”

“You don’t?” Felix’s voice sounds closer, but Chan doesn’t dare look down. “Are you sure about that?”

Chan is absolutely sure about that. His body, however, has other plans. He can feel himself getting hard, and he knows if he doesn’t get out now, Felix will be able to see it through his swim trunks, and he’ll be done for.

He feels fingertips on his waist, soft and warm. “Hyung,” Felix murmurs. “Look at me.”

Chan can’t help it. He crumbles completely at the sound of Felix’s voice, low and sweet and so enticing. He brings his head back to center, eyes focusing on Felix, and his breath catches in his throat as his gaze instantly travels lower. The front of the swim bottoms barely cover him; one wrong move and Chan’s certain Felix’s dick will pop free—which, he reflects, is probably exactly what Felix wanted. He flicks his eyes back up to Felix’s face, and is met with a devious little grin.

“I’m looking,” Chan says. “What else do you want from me?”

“I think you know exactly what I want,” Felix says.

“We can’t,” Chan says. “It’s not—appropriate, you know it’s not.”

“Why, because you’re working for my parents? So what?” Felix says. His hands are still on Chan’s body, trailing up his stomach. “They don’t have to know. It’s not that big of a deal! You’re only a couple years older than me, it’s not like it’s that scandalous. I want it. Don’t you?”

Chan swallows roughly. His skin is hot where Felix is touching him, even though goosebumps have broken out over his back where the A/C is blowing. This is it. Chan’s going to ruin his life for a terrible, pretty boy, and he finds that he doesn’t even care. “I do,” he whispers. He grabs one of Felix’s hands, the one that’s trying to sneak a little too low. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Victory shines through on Felix’s face, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Fucking finally,” he goads.

“Shut up and come here,” Chan says, and leans in and kisses him.

Felix squeezes Chan’s waist with his other hand, gasping into his mouth. Chan takes a step forward, and another, cupping Felix’s jaw with one hand and nearly crushing his fingers in the other, backing him up against the wall. He licks Felix’s lip gloss off his lips, his teeth, his tongue. It tastes like artificial strawberry, gooey and sickly-sweet. He drops Felix’s hand, breaking away from him for just a second so he can take his baseball cap off, so the brim doesn’t get in the way. He throws it over in the direction of Felix’s discarded clothes without looking, and surges forward to kiss Felix again. Felix moans, taking hold of one of Chan’s biceps.

“Fuck,” Chan pants, reaching down and palming Felix’s ass, groaning when Felix hums out a noise of satisfaction. “God, if your parents weren’t gonna kill me before, they’re definitely gonna kill me now.”

Felix giggles. “No, they won’t.”

“I don’t care,” Chan says, dipping his head so he can nip at the sensitive skin of Felix’s neck, kissing over the hollow of his throat. “I’ll tell them it was your fault. You were the one who kept flirting with me, kept riling me up. Always wearing your shortest skirts, always looking for an excuse to touch me.”

“I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t looked at me like that on the day we met,” Felix shoots back, and Chan flushes in embarrassment. He should’ve been more careful, he shouldn’t have even wanted it in the first place, but—well. It’s far too late now. “You made it so easy. It was too fun, I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re such a brat,” Chan bites out. “Don’t act like it was just for fun. You wanted me to fuck you from the start.”

“So are you going to?” Felix asks. “Fuck me?”

“Well,” Chan says. “We’re gonna need lube. And probably a condom. And we probably shouldn’t be in the bathroom, what if Maya walks by? What if your mum gets home early and comes looking for you?”

“We could go up to my room,” Felix says, but he makes no move to pull away, and neither does Chan. Instead, Felix’s fingers find the waistband of Chan’s shorts. He toys with the fabric. “But I don’t want to wait. I want to come.”

“Already?” Chan asks, like he isn’t just as worked up, like he isn’t hard and aching just centimeters from Felix’s fingertips.

“Touch me and find out,” Felix replies, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice. He reaches down, ghosts his palm over the bulge in Felix’s obscenely small swim bottoms. Felix whines softly in his ear, so Chan gets bolder, curling his fingers and squeezing just slightly. The noise it pulls out of Felix’s chest is poisonous and wonderful.

Chan tugs the swim bottoms down as Felix lets his fingers slip inside Chan’s pants. A string of precome stretches from the head of Felix’s cock to the fabric before snapping midair. Chan presses his thumb against the slit, looking down to watch a few more beads dribble out over the tip when he pulls away. He collects it with his index fingers, spreading it down the length of Felix’s cock before taking him in his fist. “So messy, Felix,” he murmurs.

Felix fumbles for Chan’s cock, moaning softly. “Your hands are so big,” he whimpers. His hips twitch up into Chan’s palm. “Feels good.”

Though Felix is wet, there’s still too much friction, so Chan releases him for a moment. Felix whines at the loss, but Chan shushes him, spitting into his palm, and then takes him in his fist again, letting his spit mix with the precome, making the glide easy and smooth. Felix stutters over a moan, letting his head tip forward so his forehead is resting on Chan’s chest. He runs his fingers up the length of Chan’s cock, then brings his hand back out to the waistband of Chan’s shorts and tugs them down with a frustrated noise.

Chan moves his hand faster over Felix’s cock, a dark, nasty sort of pleasure blooming in his chest when it makes Felix tremble. He lets out another choked little moan, and Chan shushes him. “Someone could hear you, and we don’t wanna get caught, do we?”

Felix doesn’t listen. “Cha-an,” he slurs, pressing a wet kiss to Chan’s chest as he fumbles with his cock. His little fingers are a bit clumsy, but it doesn’t matter to Chan. Felix is touching him, like he’s been imagining, like he does in Chan’s dreams. He’s not entirely sure this isn’t just another dream, except that it feels so real. He can smell sugar and lemons and Felix. He speeds up his hand, moaning low when Felix nips at his skin.

“I tried, you know,” Chan huffs softly. “You know that, right? I tried not to let this happen. I tried not to want you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Felix says against his skin. “Didn’t work.”

“No it didn’t, did it?” Chan finds it easy to accept. “Look at me, baby.”

Felix straightens, looking up at him. There are stars in his eyes. “What?”

Chan doesn’t reply, just kisses him again. His lips are so soft, mouth so inviting. Chan could kiss him all day, he thinks, running his tongue over the backs of Felix’s teeth. Felix rolls his hips in time with Chan’s hand, stroking Chan at the same pace, letting himself be kissed. The noises he makes against Chan’s lips only make the dark pleasure grow. Felix is ruining him, but at least the destruction is mutual. Chan’s gonna make sure he’s the best fuck Felix will ever have.

Felix pulls away to pant out, “Chan, Chan, oh fuck, so good, daddy, fuck,” and then he’s shooting hot white release onto Chan’s fingers, Chan’s arm, Chan’s stomach. Chan can’t help the low almost-growl that drags itself up his throat as Felix shakes, whimpering sweetly in Chan’s arms.

“Good boy, baby,” Chan murmurs, head spinning from the way Felix sounded, the way he called him daddy. Coming out of any other mouth, it would’ve made Chan cringe, but somehow with Felix it makes his knees weak and his vision blur. “Made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?”

Felix doesn’t say anything, just bends over, still trembling, and presses his tongue to Chan’s abdomen, swiping at his own come until Chan is clean, even his arm and hand. He pulls off Chan’s fingers with a wet pop, blinking up at him.

“Still want me to fuck you?” Chan asks darkly, prying Felix away and tucking himself back into his pants.

“Yes,” Felix whispers, that same trained sultry look back in his eye. He recovers quickly, Chan thinks, almost exasperated.

“Get dressed, then,” Chan says. “If Maya asks, you invited me up to game.”

“Got it,” Felix says pertly, side-stepping Chan to retrieve his skirt, handing Chan his cap while he’s at it.

Chan takes it, but doesn’t put it back on, instead doing his best to smooth his hair in the mirror, waiting while Felix tugs his t-shirt on, too.

“Zip me up?” Felix asks, and Chan is reminded exactly how he got here. It almost makes him laugh.

“Sure.” He pulls the zipper into place, bending to kiss the top of Felix’s spine when he’s done. “Ready?”

“Mm,” Felix says. “Let’s take the elevator, Maya probably won’t see us.”

He’s right. They get to the elevator without interruption and spend the ride from the basement to the fourth floor in complete silence. Chan had almost forgotten there was an elevator in the building, since most of his time was spent in the basement level or on the first floor. He’s pretty sure he’s never been in it. But it moves quickly, and soon Felix is leading them out and down a hall Chan has never stepped foot in.

Felix’s room is like the rest of the house. It’s clean, proper, and stately. The only things that betray its inhabitant’s age are the figurines lining one of the bookshelves. Chan closes the door behind him, flicking the lock, and doesn’t have the chance to take in any more of his surroundings. Felix is on him in an instant, fingers at the waistband of his shorts again, needy and demanding.

“C’mon,” he says, muffled by Chan’s skin. “You said you’d fuck me, so fuck me.”

Chan picks him up with ease, smiling to himself when Felix squeals his surprise, and walks them over to Felix’s bed. He deposits Felix in the sheets, hiking his shirt up and bending over him to suck a hickey into his inner thigh.

“Chan,” Felix moans, sweet and low and perfect. “Daddy.” Chan bites, and Felix whines. “Oh, fuck, you’re so mean.” He’s breathless when he says it, delight pitching in his voice. His fingers find Chan’s hair, tangle in the curls. “Will you fuck me like that? Mean?”

Chan looks up, finds Felix’s glassy eyes. “Is that what you want, baby?” Felix nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Want me to treat you rough? Want me to pound your cute little ass into the mattress?” He doesn’t know how the words have snuck their way into his mouth—dirty and depraved. But it doesn’t matter, because Felix rolls his eyes back in his head, nodding emphatically.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please. It’s all I’ve wanted this whole time. ‘S why I’ve been so annoying.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” Chan mutters, crawling up the bed so he can kiss him.

Felix wraps his little legs around Chan’s waist, kissing him hungrily, trying to pull Chan closer. “Chan,” he murmurs against Chan’s lips between kisses. “Daddy, need you, please.”

“Where’s your lube, baby?” Chan asks. “Condom, too.”

Felix rolls over with a groan, yanking open the drawer of his bedside table and rummaging around inside. Chan takes the opportunity to unzip Felix’s skirt again, though he doesn’t tug it down yet. It’ll be easier when Felix is on his back.

Felix reemerges from the drawer with lube and a condom held victorious in a tight fist. He rolls back over, lifting his hips as he hands over the goods so he can tug his skirt off. Chan helps him, dropping it on the floor off the side of the bed. Next goes Felix’s shirt, shucked easily up over his head and leaving him in just his microscopic swim bottoms.

Chan does the only logical thing. He bends down and undoes the bows on Felix’s hips with his teeth. Felix gasps softly; it turns into a breathy moan when Chan turns his head and kisses the tip of his cock.

He kind of wants to blow Felix, but Felix asked to be fucked, and Chan has basically accepted that he’s never going to tell Felix no ever again, so he sits back on his heels and pumps out some lube.

“Showered earlier,” Felix supplies. “I’m all clean.”

Chan wasn’t gonna ask, honestly, was just gonna go for it, but he appreciates it. He raises his eyebrows as he reaches down to spread his cheeks. “You were that confident it would work?”

Felix shakes his head. He looks so little, drowning in the crumpled duvet. Chan thinks his mouth is watering. “I was hopeful,” he says. “I’ve done it every day, hoping.”

“Jesus, baby,” Chan mutters, easing his first finger in and rubbing something patternless into the skin over Felix’s hip bone when he whimpers. “Just for me?”

“Mm,” Felix confirms. “Knew you’d come around eventually. Just wasn’t sure when.”

Chan’s got his finger in up to the last knuckle already. “You’re kinda loose, baby. Did you prep yourself already?”

“A little,” Felix admits coyly. “But you’re bigger than I thought.” A soft giggle rises up. “You’ll have to go up to four fingers for sure. I only did three of mine, and mine are tiny.” He holds up his hand to show, as if Chan hadn’t already catalogued this fact on day one, and hadn’t been obsessing over it ever since.

“Jesus,” Chan repeats. “You do that every day, too?”

“Not every—every day.” Felix’s breath hitches when Chan’s second knuckle slips back out and catches on his rim. “Usually just one finger, maybe two.”

It’s still incredibly hot. “Sure you were doing it for me, or do you just like having your hole played with?” Chan pushes two fingers in this time. It’s still not much of a stretch.

Felix moans, showy and sweet. “Both,” he says. “Your fingers feel better than mine, though.” Chan is working up a slow rhythm. “You get deeper. I bet your cock will feel best.”

“Have you been thinking about it?” Chan asks, curling his fingers a little, searching around for Felix’s prostate. “Imagining my cock?”

Felix’s eyelids flutter. “It’s almost all I think about when I’m with you,” he admits, low voice impossibly lower. “Oh, fuck!” He arches up off the bed. Chan’s found it.

“Yeah?” Chan teases, hoping his voice comes out steady so Felix doesn’t have proof of just how much this is turning him on. “Right there?” He does it again, petting over the spot, and Felix twitches weakly, letting out another incoherent moan.

“Mm, daddy, stop, hurts,” Felix whines with absolutely no conviction in his voice.

Still, Chan avoids it for the next couple thrusts. “Can’t take it?” he goads. “But what happens when it’s my cock? I’m gonna fill you up, baby, you’re so tight, I won’t be able to avoid it.”

“I’ll fall apart,” Felix says, though not piteously. It’s more a statement of fact. “I don’t wanna fall apart yet.”

That’s fair, Chan supposes. He doesn’t respond, just fits his ring finger in alongside the first two. He meets some resistance, but Chan has done a good job so far, and Felix opens easily, so it’s not long before he’s pumping three fingers in and out of Felix like it’s nothing.

“Ch-Chan,” Felix stutters. “Hurry up, I can take it.”

Chan kisses the inside of his knee. “No, I don’t know how you’d explain the limp to your mother.”

“She wouldn’t know it’s you I’m fucking,” Felix points out.

“Still,” Chan says.

“She already thinks I’m a whore, it doesn’t matter,” Felix mumbles, so swift and quiet Chan almost misses it.

“What?” He pauses mid-stroke.

“Nothing,” Felix says. “It doesn’t matter is all. I said hurry up.”

You’re fucking him, you’re not his psychiatrist, Chan thinks to himself as he resumes fingering him. It’s not your job to try and fix his life. Even if you could, he’d hate you for it.

They brush past the moment quickly, drowning it with the wet noises from between Felix’s legs and Felix’s sweet moans. Chan murmurs praise as he adds in his pinky—doing so good, baby, almost there, look so pretty, so patient for me—and Felix responds beautifully, fucking himself back down on Chan’s fingers and twisting in the sheets. A fine layer of sweat has broken out across his skin, making him glisten in the early afternoon light. By the time Chan finally pulls away, satisfied that he won’t tear anything when he fucks him, Felix’s cock is already hard again, red and leaking against his stomach.

Chan rolls the condom on, spreading a little more lube over the length, watching Felix catch his breath. “Ready?”

“Chan, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll never forgive you,” Felix replies, and Chan laughs. He realizes it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while, the misery from keeping his desire tamped down and hidden for weeks too heavy for joy. But now it doesn’t matter anymore, and he’s laughing again. He lines himself up with Felix’s puckered entrance, pink and red and perfect.

“Well, we can’t have that,” he says, and pushes in.

Felix is perfect. Chan knew this, but still—it was only imagination that had guided him all this time, because Chan’s never known anyone as perfect as this. The tight heat around him makes him shake. Felix’s eyes cross first, and then roll back completely as he lets out a moan when Chan finally bottoms out. Chan tips over Felix’s body, breathing out soft moans and pressing reverent kisses to his chest and stomach.

“So full,” Felix rasps softly. His hands are in Chan’s hair again, combing it off his forehead. “Oh, fuck, Chan, feels so good.”

“Perfect, baby, you’re perfect,” Chan manages. He doesn’t know what else there is to say. “Take me so well, it’s like we were made for each other.”

Felix refocuses his eyes. Chan watches his slow blinking. “Could just stay like this,” he says. “Till my parents get home.”

This makes Chan’s dick twitch; Felix feels it and giggles. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Chan counters. “Mean.”

Felix sighs dramatically. “I want that, too.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Chan says, drawing his hips back and pushing in again.

“Mm, or tonight,” Felix says. “After everyone’s gone to bed. You won’t be able to fuck me hard then ‘cause we’ll have to keep quiet. You could just put it in and we could cuddle like that.”

Chan groans, imagining it, their hushed voices in the dark, hoping no one hears them, biting back moans as Chan pushes in and fills Felix up. Huddling under the covers, chest to back, Chan’s arms wrapped around Felix’s lithe body. “Fuck, baby, you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Felix nods. “I want you,” he says plaintively, like that explains it. Maybe it does, except Chan’s been wanted before, and it wasn’t like this. This is something else, something deeper, more primal. He knows because he feels it in himself, too.

“What do you want, baby?” Chan asks. He wants to know the ways Felix has been picturing him, wants to know if it’s the same as the ways he’s been picturing Felix. He thinks he’ll agree to anything Felix asks.

“I-I,” Felix stutters, hesitant, but Chan recognizes it as fake. The words are just waiting to trip off Felix’s tongue. “I want you to fuck me and make me come over and over,” he begins. “I want it rough and fast. I wanna come so hard I almost pass out.” He’s picking up steam, talking faster. “ I want it everywhere. I want you to fuck me in the shower and bend me over my desk and push me up against the mirror.” He’s panting now, but he keeps going. “I want to ride your thigh in the pool, I want to choke on your cock when you’re eating breakfast. I’ll come find you in the garden, too, and I won’t be wearing any panties so you can finger me under my skirt.” He gives Chan a wide-eyed, innocent look when he says it, but Chan sees the clear intent behind the facade. He’s trying to rile Chan up, but he’s also dead fucking serious. “I can take it anywhere, any time, I want it like that. Doesn’t matter if I’m busy or drunk or asleep, I like it. I’ll like it if it’s you.”

“Lix,” Chan groans. “That’s so dirty.”

“Want you to take advantage of me, daddy,” Felix pleads, blinking up at him, his beautiful eyes huge. “I’ll only wear my tiniest underwear from now on, and I’ll finger myself open every morning so it’s easy. I’ll carry condoms in my bra, so you’ll know where to find them. Will you do it?”

“All of it?” Chan licks kisses up Felix’s neck. “We’re gonna get caught, baby.”

“Only when it’s safe,” Felix amends. “Can’t have them taking you away from me, who’d fuck me then?”

“Okay, only when it’s safe,” Chan agrees, because of course he wants it, too.

“Good,” Felix says. “Now fuck me harder, I wanna feel it.”

A strange sort of noise rumbles out of Chan’s chest. It’s something close to displeasure, he’s pretty sure, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. He pushes himself up off Felix’s body and grabs him by the backs of his knees. He pushes him down into the bed that way, folding him at the hips until Felix’s knees are almost at his ears. “So flexible, baby,” he murmurs. Felix lets out a satisfied sigh, which hiccups into a moan when Chan thrusts into him. His cock bobs in midair from the force of it, dripping precome on Felix’s chest. “That how you wanted it?” He adjusts to the new angle quickly, picking up the pace again.

Felix is breathless when he responds. “Yes, just like that, yes.”

Felix is spread so wide like this, his body curled over itself to accommodate Chan. Chan digs his fingers into the skin of Felix’s thighs, hard enough to bruise. Felix can always wear stockings to cover them up, and Chan has a feeling he’ll like having the reminder. He slams his hips forward, rough just like Felix asked, fast and ruthless. All Chan’s hours in the gym are finally paying off, and he forces down delirious laughter at the thought.

“Look so pretty like this,” Chan grits out. “Should’ve kept your skirt on, babygirl, they always make your waist look so nice.” Felix lets out a whimper at the word babygirl, and Chan zeroes in on that immediately. “You like that? Babygirl?” Felix nods fiercely; Chan realizes tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, his cute nose reddening. Chan leans close. It’s a little difficult, with all the body in the way, but he manages, kissing the hollow of Felix’s cheek, then trailing down to his jaw. “Why the tears?” he murmurs into Felix’s skin.

His voice vibrates in Chan’s skull. “Feels so good,” Felix replies. “Just—overwhelmed, can’t help it. Good tears, don’t fucking stop.”

Chan straightens again, satisfied that Felix is okay, so he doesn’t have to work so hard. “Okay, baby. You need me to stop, though, just say so.” He rocks his hips in deep, making the bed creak. It’s a good thing nobody’s home.

“I won’t ever tell you to stop,” Felix says, and it’s dreamy and almost vacant. He’s staring up at Chan, eyes a little unfocused. A tear rolls down his cheek, leaving a pale grey streak in his skin from his mascara. He snakes a hand between his torso and his thigh and wraps it around his cock, stroking slowly, almost absently. His eyes never leave Chan’s face, even when Chan thrusts hard and deep and makes him cry out. “D-daddy, hn, gonna make me—gonna make me come—ah, oh fuck.” The rest is unintelligible, staccato moans, and then Felix’s whole body convulses. He clenches down on Chan, making it almost impossible for him to move; his pretty face contorts into a twisted expression of bliss, and his legs tremble. He comes with a string of soft curses, so hard some of it shoots past his chest and hits his face, coating his lips and spattering across his cheeks, a few droplets even sticking in his eyelashes.

Felix releases his cock, which still dribbles out a few beads of come with Chan’s every thrust, arms going limp at his sides and head lolling back.

“Fuck, Lix,” Chan grunts, movements shallow despite the urge to start pounding him again, kind of worried he’ll fall apart. “Sound so gorgeous when you come.”

Felix is slowly licking the come off his lips while he cleans his eyelashes with the hand he wasn’t using to touch himself, his chest heaving. “I wish,” he says softly, so faint Chan barely hears it, “that I was flexible enough to suck my own cock.”

Unbidden, the image of Felix curled tight over himself, his own cock stuffed in his mouth, hole gaping and spread, manifests in Chan’s mind. “Oh, god,” he gasps, and before he realizes it, he’s coming, too, buried deep inside Felix, knuckles white where he’s still holding his legs.

Chan hangs his head, panting and disoriented, as he comes down. Presently, he unlocks his fingers and releases Felix’s legs; they slide down on either side of him, whispering soft against the duvet cover. He makes no move to pull out. He’s not sure he can move at all.

After a while, he looks up, and sees that Felix has managed to clean off his face. He shakes his head, groaning, and sits back on his heels, bending over Felix’s body, running his hands down his sides, and presses wordless kisses to his ribs and stomach, slow and lazy.

“Good?” Felix whispers.

Chan looks up at him. “So good,” he replies. “Better than I imagined. Not sure I should say that, since it’ll just encourage you, but it’s true.”

Felix giggles brightly. “I won’t be nearly so bad now that I know you’ll give me what I want,” he says, tipping his head to the side.

“I have a hard time believing that,” Chan replies, finally pulling out. He gingerly removes the condom and ties it off, crawling up the bed so he can reach the waste basket next to Felix’s bedside table. He grabs a tissue while he’s at it, and rolls onto his side, towards Felix. “C’mere,” he coaxes softly. “Let me clean you up.”

“Oh,” Felix says, like he’d forgotten entirely about the mess on his chest. He turns to Chan, reaching out and laying a hand on his bicep.

Chan swipes his drying come away, leaning it to kiss away the rest, tugging Felix close to him until they’re lying chest to chest, legs slotted together. He looks up. “All done,” he says softly.

Felix leans in and kisses his forehead. The gesture is oddly sweet. “You really went for it,” he says. “I was impressed. I thought you’d need more prodding.”

“You’ve been quite frustrating,” Chan points out, keeping any trace of venom out of his tone. He’s not angry about it anymore. “I guess that was all the prodding I needed.”

“Mm, I’ll keep it in mind,” Felix says.

“Please don’t,” Chan mutters, and Felix giggles again.

“Out of curiosity,” he says. “Which outfits did you like best?”

“What?”

“What do you like to see me in?” Felix asks evenly. “It’s just you around. I can dress just for you.”

“Oh,” Chan says weakly. “I like the short skirts. And the stockings. You have—” He shifts his hand lower and squeezes. “—the best thighs ever, I like when you show them off.” Felix hums, clearly pleased. “But seriously, you could wear anything, and I’d want to fuck you. So don’t worry about me.”

Felix laughs again, full-bellied and mischievous. “Oh, Chan,” he sighs. “And here I thought my Christmas break was going to be boring.”

74 notes · View notes

deathbyseventeen · 11 months

Text

As the World Caves In (Ending)

pairing: Dino/Chan x f!reader

genre: post-apocalyptic, romance/fluff, angst | zombie!au

word count: ≅3.4k

series: To be Together

chapter warnings: allusions & talk death, weapons (the knifebrella & a gun), violence (defending self from zombies), oh and blood and references to body parts and viscera (not descriptive though)

a/n: hello again :) the ending is here! apologizes for the wait. but if you’re just seeing this fic now... maybe take a chance and start from the beginning? :)) links are right there below. oh boy oh boy oh boy

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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}

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a month since the end

Chan struggles to breathe from under the bundle of blankets you’d wrapped around him as if the combination of hoodies, coats, and scarves he was wearing (something you’d insisted on, he remembers) were nothing more but a pair of swimming trunks. In a span of a couple of days, the temperature dropped drastically, and though it had yet to snow, the river had already frozen over. Guilt gnawed at him as he watched you carefully step onto the center of the river, a simple beanie and coat to fight off the bitter cold, while you tried to get a good look at the surroundings.

He understood that he was still sick, though not as bad as he was before. Still, he wished you would let him be the one to catalog the locations and amount of zombies around. He hadn’t moved from the spot where you’d helped him sit down inside a service closet the two of you had found underneath the river’s bridge. You were meters away, far enough that he couldn’t really tell what face you were making but not far enough to where he couldn’t see that you were trembling in your boots.

Sometimes, when the sun went down, he swore the mild fever he still had was giving him hallucinations. At this moment, however, he knew it wasn’t just his imagination that was making you shake.

He wished he could call you back, urge you to turn around, and return to him.

It felt like an eternity before you made your careful way back across the iced river to him and let the door close all but an inch or two with a brick. You sat down across from him, dragging the duffle bag where you’d stuffed the night’s supplies to you with a hand.

A sleeping bag, the cans of food that would be dinner tonight, two water bottles, two flasks, and two trash bags. He reached for the bottle of medicine you pulled out then.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him as you opened the cans of food, waiting for him to swallow the syrup.

“Better,” he croaked, then cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should look for something stronger,” you suggested, holding out a can of salmon for him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I am getting better. This’ll go away, I know.”

“Alright.” You relent.

The two of you ate in silence, only sharing the sound of your spoons scraping against the insides of the cans.

Chan would have preferred conversation, the silence between the two of you felt too much like a wall was being built between the two of you, but his sore throat prevented any attempt from his side.

Even after you finished eating and began to unfurl the sleeping bag and arrange an even bigger pile of blankets around it, he continued to eat in silence. The rock he felt in his throat forced him to eat languidly, almost entirely focused on pushing the food down his throat.

But by the time he finished, he’d had enough, and the words left him before he could think them through.

“You told the others where we were going, right?”

Chan watched you still for a moment and squeeze your eyes shut. Almost immediately, he regretted what he’d said and cursed himself for not stopping and thinking of something better to say. You had yet to say anything or turn to look at him, but he could still read the words running through your head from a single corner of one of your eyelids. ‘For the hundredth time.’ Then they shot open--you wouldn’t say that to him-- and you turned to him.

“Yes, Chan. I told them, as best I could, the general direction we’d be taking toward your hometown.”

“Okay,” he croaked, a bright red blush settling on his cheeks.

He managed a couple of seconds of renewed silence, toying with the seam of his pants before grabbing one of the trash bags.

“I’m going to go to use the bathroom outside.”

“Here.” You held out a roll of toilet paper. “Try not to stay out too long, or you’ll get sick again.”

He mumbled out a thanks as he grabbed the roll and shuffled outside the fastest he could.

Without the armada of blankets encompassing him in a cocoon of warmth, a gust of cold December wind chilled him to the bone and froze him just outside the door. He trembled, gaze stuck on the horizon with tears pricking at his eyes. Then the wind settled, and he was able to look away, blinking away the tears as he left the enclave.

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Chan traced circles into your arms later that night. Much like earlier, you had yet to say anything to him, choosing to arrange your supplies while you waited for him to get ready for sleep. There was only one sleeping bag and it had come with a series of compromises. While you’d attempted to get him to use the bag for himself, he refused until the two of you wound up pressed together inside. Even then, you refused to sleep inside until he was already under it. So he slipped in first, and you zipped shut the bag.

Tonight, though he was sure you were upset with him, changed nothing. You slipped into the bag after him, silently, zipping it shut enough around the two of you that you could still pull the blankets at the front of the sleeping bag over you two. Then, laid down, half on top of Chan with one hand resting on his shoulders and the other at his side.

He couldn’t sleep.

Even with a hand clutched around you, he was uneasy.

Words accumulated at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find a way to say them.

It wasn’t until he felt your breath even out that the words managed to slip past his lips.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t mean to keep asking you. I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I don’t like the silence. I keep thinking about them, and I start to worry they’re already dead.”

His heart raced at the admission, and he let out a shuddering breath as he tried to calm down. He did, eventually, and when that finally happened, he shifted so he was able to place a kiss on the crown of your head.

He had just closed his eyes when he felt you shift and brush your own lips across the underside of his jaw.

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Your fingers toyed with the inside of his pant pocket, encompassed in the warmth of a heat pack you’d found in the maintenance room you’d slept in days before.

“Now, if I were a sporting store, where would I hide?” Chan whispered into your ears as the two of you walked down a block of stores.

The streets were zombie-free, and it unnerved him. He wondered if you had noticed the eerie loneliness of the streets or if you had managed to ignore it in favor of a prettier image.

“Running a few laps around the block, I imagine.” You answered, giving his hand a squeeze before returning to your ministrations on his fingers.

“Perhaps they’d like to break so we can have a chat.”

You hummed. “Maybe. Would you like to call out to it instead? See if it comes?”

He laughed.

With an added bounce to your step, you started to hum under your breath. Chan was sure that if it’d been warmer, you’d have--

You slipped your hand out of his pocket, pulling his hand and the hot pack along with yours, and swung them. He smiled. It was an innate reaction, and in the end, the only thing he could have done that wouldn’t break the spell you’d cast over yourself.

The two of you continued to walk like that for what seemed like an eternity to Chan. The sun had long past reached its highest point in the sky for the day. It would only take another couple of hours before it would begin to set, and the sporting goods store was yet to be found. Just how many times had the two of you gone in circles? He was sure he’d seen that ravaged kiosk of cell phone cases at least fifty times. (And still, no zombies anywhere in sight.)

His thoughts strayed toward the stolen-- he frowned, though he knew it was now inconsequential-- car the two of you had found in one of the university’s parking structures. If he had managed to count correctly, the car was at least ten blocks down the street you’d come from, a mile or more so away.

Lost in thought, he missed the moment you stopped humming and swinging your intertwined hands.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to find it?” It was faint, hardly louder than the gusts of wind that brushed past the two of you every now and again. But it was enough to pull him out of his preoccupations and startle him into flinching.

“What?” He swallowed. “The sports store? I know it’s already taken us too long--”

“No,” you interrupted, “I mean, how long do you think it’ll take us to find the safe zone?”

“The safe zone?”

“What if it’s not even a safe zone anymore? What if it’s moved?”

“Wait. Wait.” He pulled you to a stop. “What? Y/N, you can’t-- you shouldn’t be thinking about those things.”

“Chan, our only goal is to get to safety. To get to the safe zone. But what do we do if it’s not real anymore.”

He shook his head. “Y/N, our only goal right now is to find that store.” He grabs you by the shoulders, leaving the hot pack in your hands, “We need a tent. We need to find food. We need to get back to the car. We find shelter for the night. We need to find my brothers.”

“And then?”

“And then we find safety.”

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“How much longer do you think we have?” You ask Chan as the two of you speed walk down a pathway that leads to a hidden street.

A single directory station the two of you had stumbled upon by chance hours after he’d reassured you had shown you the location of the store you looked for.

“Not long,” he frowns. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half, if we’re lucky. What do you think?”

“An hour,” you agreed, then nudged his shoulder and nodded to the sky. “Maybe less.”

In the distance, beyond the grove of trees you were walking through, a patch of sky was visible. While most of the sky was a chilly blue, the horizon was starting to turn a warm orange, with bits of pink starting to bleed into the blue.

“Maybe less,” Chan agreed.

“It should be around here somewhere,” Chan murmured as the two of you reached the end of the path.

The two of you stood at the end of the grove, taking in the wide, dead-end street it opened into. Then your eyes fell on the elusive sporting store you’d been looking for.

You gripped Chan by the forearm, a grin overtaking the tired expression on your face.

“Come on,” Chan nodded. “We have to hurry.” Then he took off running, and you set off after him, nipping at his heels.

From far away, the rows of stores looked like they were perfect recreations of pictures of a miniature model shopping district. Both of you could have sworn that its windows were glittering from the sunlight, that you could see glare streaks across the glass. But the closer the two of you got, the quicker the little details started to come into focus.

Like the other stores, the sports store’s front windows had been smashed through completely. Its glass rested on the floor in front of the store like grains of sand, forcing you to a stop.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” You mumbled.

“No,” Chan agreed. “Follow me.”

Chan walked alongside the front of the store, looking for a space where the glass hadn’t fallen. Finding none, he stopped at the edge of the store and pointed at the corner of the window sill.

“We’re going to have to stretch as far as we can to get inside. I’ll go first and give you a hand.”

His hands were freezing when he grabbed yours and pulled you inside, but it was the temperature inside the store that made a shiver run down your spine. Then, as the two of you turned to step inside, the two of you froze as if you’d suddenly been hit by a cold snap.

Deeper inside, where the sunlight was quickly receding, blood splattered the floor and clothing racks. Corpses, complete or not, laid one on top of another, all of them heading deeper into the store. The sunlight didn’t reach deeper inside, but you didn’t need to see deeper inside to imagine the corpses and body parts that were probably strewn around.

“They probably took refuge here.”

“Yeah,” you choked out.

While the undead terrified you, it came as a terrifying realization that you had managed to ignore all of the corpses and body parts that you’d run into before. Images of the day the world ended came flashing back. The people pounding on the gym’s windows, the undead behind them, the viscera on the way to the stadium, and the random body parts and trails of blood throughout the city. You’d managed to ignore it all. That was so… unsafe.

“Y/N,” Chan called to you, “Y/N. Y/N, I need you to focus. Look at me. Y/N, look at me.”

He forced you to turn and look at him, though you were trembling nonstop. He didn’t know if you were listening, if you were even here. You had a hazy look in your eyes that made the apprehension he felt intensify tenfold.

“We’ve only got a little while to find everything we need, but we’re going to have to split up. Are you okay with that?”

You shook for a moment longer, and Chan was sure he was going to have to pull you along. Then you nodded.

“Don’t think about it. Just ignore it.”

You nodded again.

“I’ll go this way.” He waved a hand to the stairwell against the wall. “And you can go that way,” he nodded to the rest of the store behind you. “Do you remember what we need?”

“A-A tent. Tarp. Duffle bags. Trash bags.” You began.

“A solar-powered portable heater and a solar-powered power generator if we can find any. More blankets and thermal clothes.” He finished.

“O-Okay.” With a single, short kiss goodbye, the two of you split.

The store, without its fluorescent lights and customer-created white noise, was disorienting to say the least. You were already living a nightmare, but this made you feel like you were taking part in a horror movie. It felt as if death was waiting for you just a couple of steps ahead, just out of sight, hidden in the darkness.

Your vision adjusted quickly, though it didn’t stop you from wishing you had a flashlight. Thankfully, finding thermal clothes and duffle bags were an easy find, and you stuffed as many as you could into your duffle.

“Generators. Heaters. Tents,” you mumbled under your breath, taking care to keep focused (and not look at the floor) as you made yourself venture deeper into the store.

“Flashlights,” you murmured in relief when you saw some.

“Generators. Heaters. Tents.” You began to repeat again like a mantra.

While the flashlight was a relief, it made it harder to dismiss the streaks of blood on the floor and splattered onto the merchandise.

You were approaching the back half of the store, when between boxes of shoes and workout equipment when you felt the world freeze around you.

Pools of dried blood stained the floor under their undead feet, and the stench of decay permeated the air. You gagged, hands flying to cover your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself from crying out as you backed away.

Unaware of the steps you were taking, you slipped on a patch of fresher blood. You yelped as you lost your balance, and if that weren’t enough, you took down a display of shoe spray.

The result was instant. It was almost like they were machines by the way their heads snapped up as if they’d just been powered on.

You screamed as they turned around, glazed eyes training on you as you scrambled to get up. They lurched forward and you backward.

Finally, on your feet, you raced in the opposite direction, feet following the path you had taken to get there in the first place. You were nearing the stairwell when you caught sight of Chan stumbling down it, a horde of his own zombies after him.

“Run!” He yelled when he saw you. “Get out! Run! Hurry!”

The glass outside was inconsequential as you ran, even as you fell and it dug itself into your hands.

In the light of the setting sun, you could nearly delude yourself into thinking you were hallucinating.

Behind you, though, Chan fired a gun at the horde.

Your nonstop screams only added to the chaos around him.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He spit as he missed his mark yet again.

Though he wanted to take out his knifebrella, he accepted that it would be futile against the horde after the two of you. Realizing he was getting nowhere, he took off running behind you.

“Through the grove!” He yelled, narrowly avoiding the hand reaching for him.

The sun set as the two of you ran through the grove, stumbling over raised blocks of cement and fallen branches. You’d taken two steps outside before you were almost killed, and a bright light enveloped your forms, a screeching of tires forcing you to a stop.

“Chan!” Someone yelled.

“Get inside! Hurry!” A second, deeper voice yelled, and a moment later, a flatter screeching sounded above the groans of the undead.

When neither of you moved (Chan too stunned at the appearance of his friends), one of the owners of the voices jumped out from the light and grabbed the two of you, pulling into the light and--

You blinked. A long, yellow school bus rested before you.

“Seungcheol. Jeonghan.” Chan finally spoke. You could tell he was trying to keep his composure, but as he said their names, his voice faltered.

“In. In,” Seungcheol insisted, pushing you inside.

Jeonghan smiled thinly, unshed tears lining his eyes, “I told you I’d find him.”

“My apologies.” Seungcheol huffed and after ushering the two of you past Jeonghan, pulled a lever at the base of the driver’s seat to close the doors.

“Move!” A third voice suddenly yelled. “They’re coming!”

“Seungkwan!”

“If we die, I’m killing you first, you martyring bastard!”

“Everyone sit down!” Seungcheol ordered the lot as the bus lurched forward.

You gasped as you fell onto one of the seats, catching only a brief glance at who you guessed was Seungkwan.

“How did you even find us?” Chan asked when he stood up again.

Jeonghan, leaning against the seat across from you, lifted a book into the air. “The XXXX Updated Travel--”

“You used a travel guide?!” Disbelief was all you could really feel.

“You must be Y/N.”

You nodded.

“I’m Jeonghan. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for taking care of Chan again.”

You shook your head, “He took care of me.”

“Wait. Wait.” Chan interrupted moving up to stand beside you, behind Seungcheol’s driving seat. “Where are we going?”

“To find the others.”

“We’ve got to go back.”

“What?” Seungcheol snapped.

Chan pointed southeast of the way Seungcheol was driving. “We need to go back. To our car. We need our things!”

“Your things?!”

“We had food!” Chan snapped. “Medecine. Bandages. Clothes. Supplies!”

“This better be worth it,” Seungcheol snapped, jerking the wheel for a right turn.

“I’ll tell you when we’re close.”

Satisfied, Chan plopped down and turned to look at you. Finally taking in your appearance, his eyes widened.

Your smile was wobbly at best. “I take it you didn’t find any of the things we needed? I found the du-duffle bags and c-clothes.”

He stood up, and though you couldn’t see his mouth, you knew it was hanging open.

“It’s--It’s not my blood.”

Wordlessly, he threw his arms around you and hugged you. After a while, you thought he was letting you go to sit down again, but rather than that, he leaned into you to give you a long kiss.

“Oh,” Jeonghan said from the other seat, “Interesting. Very interesting.”

Chan sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Turn left here.”

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fin | masterlist

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