Since I'm not there...
Summary: In which d (predicably) goes feral over the lollapalooza performances and (unpredictably) writes their first ever Dom chan fic.
Or: You've seen Chan's Lollapalooza performance and have some thoughts about his outfit.
Notes: y'all I wrote this like 20 minutes ago and I hope u can tell how insanely unwell I am. Chan is.... Whoa. Just whoa.
Tags: chan/reader, fem reader, soft Dom chan, sub reader, phone sex, fingering, petnames (baby and sweetheart), patronizing language, aftercare
Lovely taglist: (special thanks to @snow-pegasus @simpracha & @jxsungie01 for indulging my brainrot) @sunnyville36 @toastyseungmo @sstarryoong @decaffedthoughts @bunnypig18 @xcookiemonsteer
You're pacing up and down the house, phone pressed tight to your ear and eyes glued to the tablet screen in front of you, showing a recording of the performance.
---
"Bang Chan!"
He just laughs over the receiver, full bodied and just the slightest bit mischievous.
"I guess you've seen the performance?"
You don't respond at first, just let out a pained scream-like noise as the video replays.
"You are so fucking lucky I'm not in Paris right now, oh my god-"
Chan laughs again, but it's darker, with a more dangerous edge.
"Oh yeah? And what would you do if you were here? You can barely hold yourself together watching a video."
You go still, blinking at nothing in particular, and you can almost imagine his grin at your silence.
"That's what I thought. It's cute that you were at least trying to be angry, though."
You scoff, but it sounds pathetic even to your own ears. "I am angry. I want-" You groan again, biting your lip.
"What? What do you want, baby?"
His voice is dripping with both condescension and amusement, and the pairing goes straight to your hips, pooling warmth there until you have no choice but to press your thighs together.
Still, though, when you open your mouth to respond, nothing comes out. You want to tell him that you want nothing more than to be bent over a couch or desk or hotel bed, split open on his cock while you watch his arms flex above you, but all you can manage is a pathetic sounding whine.
"Aw, baby. Is it too much for you? Too difficult, not being able to have me right now?"
You curse, and retreat to your bed. You have half a mind to fuck yourself on your fingers just to make him as desperate as you are, but your hands stay put on the phone and on your thigh.
"When are you getting back?" You ask instead of answering his question, and he laughs again.
"Tomorrow morning. How about this," There's a slight shuffling on the other end, like clothes being pulled off, "I'm going to send you a photo, and you are going to fuck yourself to it while I jerk off,"
You're already climbing up the bed, slipping lube out of a drawer and pulling off your pants.
"And then, when I get home, I'll fuck you properly, and make sure you have something to remember next time I have to go somewhere, yeah?" His voice is breathy by the end of the sentence, and if you listen closely, you can hear the telltale sound of slick skin against skin.
"Because, baby, I'm sure millions of people want me right now, but you are the only one who gets to have me."
Your phone pings with an alert, and you quickly put the phone on speaker so you can look at it and hear him, one hand already pressing between your legs.
It's a photo, just like he promised.
Chan is lying on the bed, wearing nothing but that fucking white tank top, shoulders glistening with sweat. His cock is hard and flushed and perfect, and you feel your mouth watering as your fingers push fully inside yourself.
"You're the only one who can make me this hard," He whispers, voice brimming with barely restrained pleasure, "The only one who can make me cum, just from the thought of your fingers buried inside yourself, so desperate for me that you can't think of anything else."
You whine, writhing on the bedsheets, and you realize with a breathless moan that you're already getting close.
"Chan," You sob, gasping, and he just laughs at you again, hitching into a moan that makes your toes curl.
"That's it, baby. Come- come undone for me." He moans and growls, and you can hear the slick sounds speed up, "Want you to cum on your fingers, but know that it's not enough, not what you need."
Your back pulls up off of the bed, chest heaving, fingers moving hard and fast, like Chan would if he was here. But just like he said, it's not enough. Chan is thicker than your hands could ever be, hotter than any toy, and a distant memory of him inside you, pulsing and hot and moaning into your ear makes a scream build in your throat.
"Chan, Chan- Please, Please, I need it, need you-"
Chan moans on the line, and he sounds just as wrecked as you feel. "I know, baby, I know. Come undone for me, sweetheart, and I promise, I'll be there soon to give you what you really need."
Tears cling to your eyelashes as you push harder, deeper, dropping the phone onto the sheets to push another hand over your clit, tight circles, and you can't help but think of Chan like this, his thumb circling you, urging you over the edge of a cliff—
"Chan, Chan, Chan!" You shriek as your self control snaps, thighs snapping around your wrists and quivering, throat nearly raw from the noises that follow as you come fully and completely undone for him.
"Yes, that's it, baby, yes-" Chan's voice pitches up and you listen, dazed, as he groans through his own orgasm, and he sounds so perfect that you clench down around nothing again.
Chan comes down faster than you do, whispering soft reassurances as you shake through the aftershocks. You drink some water and clean yourself up a bit, but that's all you can really manage.
"Rest, baby. I'll be back home soon, I promise." Chan whispers, sweet and gentle. Your eyes are fluttering closed as he speaks, but you mutter, "Love you," Before sleep fully drags you into it's hold.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
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