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#svt chan x reader
beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months
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Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)
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pairing: lee chan x fem!reader
genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?
description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset
warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr
quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"
wordcount: 8.2k
Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined. 
Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend. 
“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry. 
Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”
He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago. 
“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.
Your life was ruined. 
“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.
“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers. 
“I can’t do that.” 
“Yes, you can.” 
“I can?” 
“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully. 
“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.
“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…” 
Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene. 
Oh. Okay. 
You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up. 
”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out. 
You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.
You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest. 
God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed. 
You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up. 
It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew. 
You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you. 
“Y/n?” 
You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?” 
He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.
“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.
Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.” 
“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.” 
Another pause. “Old Yeller.” 
The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too. 
“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?
A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.” 
The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words. 
The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.
“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!” _____________________________
Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward. 
What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.
“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.
You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.
“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.” 
You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you. 
“Alright,” he whispered to himself.
_____________________________
 You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal. 
You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so. 
And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation. 
“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.” 
Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago. 
Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges. 
Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side. 
And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”
You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”. 
Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said. 
And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.
He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.” 
You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away. 
He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.
“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.” 
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral. 
“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity.  “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?” 
You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically. 
“I’m not lying.” 
You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu. 
“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.” 
A pause. You sat up.
“Oh.” 
He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.
Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.” 
It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.” 
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly. 
“Bye, N/n.” 
“Bye, Channie.” 
He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.
It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.” 
You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.
When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears. _____________________________
A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.
That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café. 
“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously. 
“Yes, we’re worried about you!”
“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.
“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.” 
“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan. 
“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”
“Did you just say ‘fricken’?” 
“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.” 
“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.” 
“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”
“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--” 
“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.
“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.” 
Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006. 
“Thank you anyway.”  _____________________________
Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water. 
Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost. 
Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank. 
“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him. 
“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.” 
Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?” 
For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.” 
A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?” 
“Uh-” 
“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-” 
“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.” 
Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.” 
“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.” 
Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?” 
All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.
But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.” 
Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.
“Fuck this.” 
Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward. 
It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse? 
But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.
“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him. 
“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.
Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater. 
“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared. 
“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.” 
He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out. 
“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible. 
And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.
“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.” 
“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?” 
“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.” 
Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?” 
“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.
“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!” 
Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.
“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-” 
“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.” 
Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.
“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.” 
You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-” 
Yes.
Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp. 
Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.
“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 
His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.
“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again. 
He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle. 
“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.
“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop. 
You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!” 
He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat. 
“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.” 
Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast. 
He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.” 
You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.” 
You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. 
He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.
“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.” 
You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in. 
You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes. 
“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.” 
“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.” 
“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.” 
His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!” 
At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach. 
Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.
“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed. 
“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."
Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.
“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.
“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.
“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."
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dearly-somber · 9 months
Text
Don’t Wanna Cry | l.ch
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-> pairing. Lee Chan x reader (f)
-> genre. angst, hurt-comfort, high school!au
-> rating. 13+
-> w/c. 779
-> warnings. crying, implied/ referenced bullying
-> a/n. This song slaps
-> collection. songfic
-> started. Aug. 13th, 2020 @ 22:34
-> fin. Mar. 17th, 2020 @ 20:17
-> edited. Wed., Jul. 12th, 2023 @ 23:34
You sat on the bench in one of the more secluded areas of the school grounds, eating your sandwich in the peace and quiet of the student-less field.
You had your legs crossed with your book laying in front of you, reading it with a slight breeze fluttering the pages. It was just as you turned the page when you suddenly heard noises. It sounded like someone was talking, and being the curious person that you were, you sneaked up to check it out. When you got there you saw Lee Chan, one of the quieter guys in your class, being pushed around by some of the older students. He was wearing a baby blue and white striped shirt with some jeans, an outfit that fit him well, you thought. He was one of the more tolerable guys in your class, and you couldn't deny that you might've developed a small crush.
You wanted to ask what they were doing when you think his name was Jinyoung, hit Chan square in the jaw. You had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from gasping out loud, ducking behind the wall when Jaebum, the tallest of the three boys, snapped around to look in your direction. Peeking around the corner a bit later, you watched as Jinyoung punched Chan in the gut, pushing him to the floor for Jaebum to kick him.
"Don't ever think about telling your friends again, you hear me? Piece of shit…” Jinyoung laughed evilly as he walked away with Jaebum's arms thrown casually over his shoulders.
As soon as the two boys were out of sight, you rushed forward, crouching down beside Chan who was clutching his stomach tightly. Only when you were right next to him did you realize that he was crying, leaning against the back of the wall with his head facing the sky. He had a busted lip and bruising jaw. You could only guess how his stomach must look.
"괜찬하? Are you alright?” You asked him worriedly, reaching out a hand before retracting it awkwardly. Slowly, he looked down at you, sniffling.
"Who..?"
"I'm Y/N. I sit a few seats behind you? But that isn't important right now. We need to get you to the nurse's office—"
"No! No teachers. They'll kill me if a teacher finds out..." Chan said desperately, wincing. You bit your lip as you thought before standing up.
"Okay. Stay here, alright? I'll be right back!" You gathered your things and rushed to the nurse's office. You grabbed everything you needed and headed back to where Chan was supposed to be. Thankfully he had stayed put, staring at the spot in front of him in a daze. You crouched in front of him, tearing his gaze away from the grass to look at you.
You were quick to get to work, dabbing at his lip with some disinfectant. He winced back at the uncomfortable stinging, but you took your hand and gently turned his head back to you. His eyes were red and puffy, reminding you sadly of a kicked puppy. "I know it stings, but you have to sit still," you muttered, looking at him pleadingly.
He took a moment before nodding, a smile forming on your face. Back to work, you started getting shy at the way he stared at you, a pink hue dusting your cheeks.
“울고 싶지 않아... I don't wanna cry," he mumbled after a while, as you were gently dabbing his lip with a piece of cotton. You hesitated, looking at him questioningly.
He explained himself with an apologetic smile, "Those guys are always beating me up, because they want me to give them cash at school.” He sounded tired as he spoke, eyes glazed over with unused tears. "Every time that they do, I always end up crying. And it makes me feel even more pathetic than I already am.” Tears formed at the corner of his eyes.
After a moment of debate, you cupped his cheeks with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you.
"Lee Chan," you began sternly. “There's nothing wrong with crying. I can only imagine how much it must hurt," you mumbled, rubbing your thumb over his cheek absent-mindedly, not noticing the way his eyes fluttered at the affectionate action. "I'll stay with you from now on, okay?"
You gently brought him in for a hug, resting your chin on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his torso. He smiled sadly, biting down on his lip to stop himself from crying. He hugged you back. "Thank you," he whispered.
"It's my pleasure." You stroked his back with a soft smile.
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kozukensgf · 3 days
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bf texts with seventeen!
unreleased bf texts + random members
character(s): scoups, joshua, hoshi, dk, mingyu, myungho, seungkwan, dino
genre: fake texts, smau, one shots, fluff, crack
masterlist
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684 notes · View notes
scalingsvt8thusiast · 22 days
Text
Wait for your love (angst)
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summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you
inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)
a/n: I wrote this in a fever dream, some suggestive themes but nothing much apart from that. It's a 2 part fic. so look out for part 2 I guess :D
I didn’t think you’d understand me
You remembered the first interaction you had with Wonwoo. You had asked him for help with some maths question back in high school. 
“I don’t think that’s the right answer…” You whispered, watching him flush red as he rummaged through his pencil case clumsily looking for his eraser. 
“My maths isn’t very good!” He cried, erasing the answer that was so far off. 
“Oh! How about we try this!” You stuck your tongue out as you worked on the question using another method. 
The both of you flipped to the back of the book to check the answer. You remembered the look of awe Wonwoo gave you when your answer was right. 
Wonwoo was the quiet kid, the one who sat at the last row of class, always looking out the window, not paying attention in class. He wasn’t a star student or an athlete so on the popularity scale he was basically non-existent. You weren’t far off either. Pigtails and braces meant you weren’t much higher than him on that god-forsaken scale. But that’s what brought the two of you together. 
After that first interaction, you started warming up to your quiet seatmate. You joined him in the cafeteria, asked him out on study dates, even dragging him to his first hangout. You liked to think that he just accepted his fate, the two of you were destined to be friends. 
Somewhere along the line of your friendship, you started developing feelings for the scrawny boy. You couldn’t pin point exactly when or what caused your infatuation. You just remembered realising his facial features were so sharp, his shoulders were so broad and his hands were so large and warm. Was it when your hands met in the popcorn tub during the Star Wars reruns at your local cinema? Was it when you stared too deeply into his eyes during a round of cards? Was it when he picked you up and ran a whole lap around the park to prove a point?
You couldn’t remember. But it felt like you had been liking him for the longest time.
I’ll wait for your love
Everything changed after graduation. 
The break before university was due to start, you had gone off to stay with relatives in Paris while Wonwoo had gone off to stay with his brother in Seoul. The two of you were scheduled to attend the same universities, even scheduled to live together. It was only natural considering how long you two had been friends. He would arrive from Seoul first and you were due to arrive 2 weeks after, just in time for the first day of school. 
You were thoroughly surprised by the boy man who greeted you at the front door. 
“Wonwoo?” You said, blinking rapidly. 
Where was the scrawny, skinny boy you were familiar with? Who replaced him with this tall, handsome and extremely well built man?
“Y/n!” Wonwoo beamed at you, immediately helping you with your bags. 
You were momentarily taken aback by his voice. His high pitched, nasally voice had developed into a deep baritone. 
“How was Seoul?” You had managed to croak out, still dumb struck by the massive change your best friend went through.
“Great. I actually met quite a few friends in the same uni.” Wonwoo’s eyes held an excited glint.
You hummed, wondering how your anti-social and shy friend had managed to become a social butterfly. 
You should have known that was the first sign of the inevitable downfall of your friendship. 
Throughout the next few weeks, you were busy trying to get settled into your new life while Wonwoo was busy partying his life away. He would leave each night and return at wee hours of morning.
You remembered the first time you went to pick him up. 
“Y/n,” He drawled over the phone. 
You turned to check the clock, it was 4AM. “Wonwoo?”
“Can you come-,” A loud cheer erupted in the background. “Can you come get me?” 
“Oh, ok!” You said, pushing your blanket aside. “Text me the add-,”
He hung up. 
DING
You received the location from him.
Trying to look as presentable as possible, you hopped into your car. Driving to your best friend with Google Maps as guidance. 
You arrived at the party, expecting Wonwoo to be waiting for you by the road, ready to leave. But he was nowhere to be found. Wonwoo wasn’t waiting for you in front of the house, he wasn’t even standing with the groups of people near the front door. 
You tried his phone again but you were sent straight to voicemail. You jumped out of the car and went into the house. You tried your best to push through the multitudes of drunk people, looking for your best friend. Finally you found him, playing beer pong and boy, did he suck. 
“Won?” You said, coming up next to him. 
“Y/N!” He shouted, throwing his arms around you, dragging you into his chest for a hug. 
“Won, let’s go.” You coaxed, your nose crinkled from the strong stench of alcohol. 
“Everybody!” Wonwoo bellowed, “This is my friend! Y/N!”
You were horrified as everybody turned to look at you. You gave an awkward smile and squeezed his arm.
“Wonwoo, let’s go, please.” You begged, you had a class in 2 hours and you wanted to get home in time for at least 1 more hour of sleep. 
“But y/n, you just got here!” Wonwoo whined, he pouted. 
“Oh God, Woo, please.” You implored, biting your lip. You weren’t comfortable, you didn’t know anybody here and you had an overgrown child hanging onto you. 
“Okay,” Wonwoo quipped. “But only because you asked nicely.”
That was how you managed to get your housemate home. 
Wonwoo never apologised. He didn’t speak to you the whole week, he kept himself shut in his room while you went about your day. You tried knocking on his door, offering some food you had made but he never responded. 
After that incident, you noticed that he would do it more often. He would call you at odd hours of the morning, asking you to come pick him up, flirt with you then subsequently pass out on the couch. 
You found yourself getting hopeful. You deluded yourself into thinking that Wonwoo was doing this because you were the only person he trusted. You just had to wait a little longer for him to realise his feelings for you. You just had to wait.  
“Y/n, I love you soooo much,” Wonwoo slurred, you had slung one of his arms around your shoulder, walking him to your car. 
“Won, please.” You said, trying your best not to be effected by his empty words. You pushed him against the car while you fumbled for your car keys. 
Suddenly you felt your world spin, when it stopped you were face to face with your best friend. Wonwoo had flipped you over, your back now pressed against the car, his arms to your sides, caging you. His face was a whole ten centimetres away from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, your heart beat rapidly rising, one of your hands gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady. 
“Y/n, you’re so pretty.” He muttered, he placed a hand on your cheek. His eyes were on your lips. His tongue licking his own. 
“You’re drunk.” You whispered, you used all your strength to push against his chest. 
He didn’t move. Next thing you know, his lips were on yours. 
That was how you lost your first kiss to your best friend.
You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again
After that kiss (wherein he subsequently passed out on you), Wonwoo seemed to avoid you even more. 
He no longer called you when he needed a ride home, instead his friends would send him home. You had met 3 of his friends: Mingyu, Vernon and Seungcheol. They each seemed to take turns dragging Wonwoo’s drunk ass into the house. Surprisingly they would all be sober each time. Which made you wonder if Wonwoo just had a habit of calling random people to send him home. 
“Y/n?” Wonwoo’s voice came.
You shot up from the dining table, you had just been busy revising for your upcoming tutorial. Wonwoo never spoke to you, so this was a shock. 
“I was wondering,” He cleared his throat, “could you help me with this?” 
You blinked, he was holding a few pieces of paper. 
“Sure!” You chirped, a little too cheerily. 
Of course you would help your best friend. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t spoke to you in months. It didn’t matter that he had ignored you when you tried to wave at him on campus. It didn’t matter that he pretended not to know you among his new friends.
Wonwoo was your best friend, so you were going to bury your feelings and help him. 
“Thanks.” He smiled. 
That smile that made your stomach do a summersault. That smile that threw you back to your teenage years, when he would smile at you and only you. 
It became a routine. He only spoke to you when he needed help with work. Even though you weren’t in the same course as him, you found yourself studying up on what he needed, just so you could help him. 
You found yourself staying up late, studying for both your finals as well as his finals. Just so when he came home the next day from some party, you could help him. 
You helped him because that was the only chance you had to speak to him. 
You helped him because that was the only time he showed you any attention. 
You helped him because you loved him. 
Just wanna let this story die
Wonwoo brought a girl home. 
It was 4AM in the morning, you were cramming for your exams the next day after looking through Wonwoo’s materials for his tutorial the day after. You could literally feel your head overheating with all the knowledge you were shoving into your brain. You stood up, deciding to stretch out your unused muscles when you heard the front door open. It was opened with so much force that the door banged onto the wall, causing you to jump. 
“Wony!!!” You heard a voice, it wasn’t that low voice you so loved from your house mate. It was a high pitched squeal which you were sure your house mate could not have produced. 
A yelp could be heard followed by loud shushes. 
You pushed your door open a smidge, peeking out into the hallway.
You blood ran cold.
Right by the front door was Wonwoo, making out with a girl.
You could feel a lump growing in your throat as you shut your door. You closed your eyes, trying your best to erase the sight. The image of your best friend’s lust-ladened eyes, arms encircled around another girl, lips on hers was burnt forever your memory. 
You felt yourself crumple against the floor. Your stared blankly into space for what felt like hours. The pit in your stomach grew with every second that passed. When you finally found the energy, you crawled over to your bed. Tears seeped from the corner of your eyes as you buried your face into your pillow. Trying to muffle the loud moans and groans coming from the other room. You brought a hand to your mouth, trying not to make a sound as you cried yourself to sleep.
So for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all I need
“He’s a fucking asshole.” Chan cursed. 
You smiled weakly at your friend. The two of you sat in a booth at Chan’s favourite bar. You didn’t drink but he did. Chan had forced you out after you refused to leave your room for weeks.
“He knows you have feelings for him.” Chan hissed. “There’s no fucking way he doesn’t.”
You shrugged. After much pestering, you had finally relayed everything to Chan. Everything. From when you first met Wonwoo to when he brought a girl home. 
“I thought I would wai-,” You voice came out as a whisper, ashamed.
“Please don’t tell me. Wait?” Chan finished for you, tilting his glass of beer towards you. 
“Yup.” You said with a sigh. 
“Why wait for someone like him? Why wait for someone who doesn’t even care about you?” Chan said, sounding angrier and angrier by the second. 
His question stung. Deep down, you didn’t want to admit it, but you knew Wonwoo didn’t care about you. You knew he was just using you, keeping you around only because you made his life convenient. 
“Move out.” Chan demanded. 
“What?” You blurted, “Chan, I can’t just move out!” 
“Yes you can.” Chan pointed to himself. “Move in with me, I have a spare room!” 
“But what about Wonwoo?”
“What about that asshole?” Chan rolled his eyes. 
“I can’t just leave him like that.” You said, exasperated. You weren’t about to leave your best friend alone. 
“Why not?” Chan argued. “You think he won’t do the same to you? He’ll drop you the first chance he gets, y/n.”
You felt tears well up in your eyes. You loved Chan but there were times when he was too blunt. 
“Chan, please.” You whispered, tears started rolling down your eyes. 
“Ok, I’m sorry.” Chan immediately panicked. “I’m sorry I said that.”
He moved to sit next to you, rubbing your back as you sobbed into your bowl of fries. 
You moved out the next day, without so much as a goodbye to your childhood friend. 
a/n2: not very good at writing, quality is absolute crap imo considering i wrote this in under an hour. anything you guys think I should improve in lmk!
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honeyshua · 5 months
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Chan kissed your cheek as he was getting ready to leave. Only to freeze as he unexpectedly heard your voice “one more?” Chan laughed to himself before leaning down to kiss you again. “One more?” You asked again more awake this time. He kissed you again and held a finger up to your lips before you could say another word. “Baby I have to go. I sadly can’t just kiss you all day.” “And why not?” You jokingly asked accompanied with a pout.
“How about this? Tomorrow we can spend the whole day together. And then tomorrow night I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant. And when we come home I’ll have all the time to kiss you.”
You felt the butterflies in your stomach sensation hit like it did the first date you had with him. “That sounds wonderful!”
Chan smiled at your excitement and gave you one last kiss before he left.
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babyleostuff · 24 days
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౨ৎ voicemails lee chan leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, sweetie)
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...one: hi baby, so we just landed. i can't wait to get to the hotel, i'm exhausted. hope you're sleeping well too, i'll call you in the morning. love you
…two: huh, i think i forgot how it feels to sleep without you. i couldn’t fall asleep yesterday, at all. did you, um, did you sleep well? or is it me just overreacting maybe
...three: why did you turn off your location, baby? you're acting suspicious again, and i'm scared. don’t think for a second i forgot about that last prank you pulled
...four: what are you up to today? any plans? make sure to eat before you go out, and text me when you have some time
...five: hi, so this is seungcheol. shut up dino, or i won’t give you the phone back. your boyfriend got a bit, eee, drunk, and he wanted to call you to tell you something. someone hold him back or else. the point is, he was too drunk to dial himself so i had to do it for him. dino come here, and say what you want to say. I LOVE YOUUUU
...six: shit, i was so drunk yesterday. i hope i didn’t say anything embarrassing. i’m sure the boys would stop me if i was about to make a fool out of myself, though (pause) yeah, they definitely wouldn’t stop me
...seven: i checked the weather back home, and it’s so cold. make sure to wear my coat that i left you sweetie, it’s the one that you like so much. if you need any hoodies or sweatshirts you can always borrow mine
...eight: saranghae nunbit
...nine: i never would've imagined a game of monopoly could be that intense
...ten: i miss you a lot, you know? i didn't want to tell you earlier, so you wouldn't think i'm clingy, but i really do miss you. do you think we can talk over face time? i don't want to fall asleep alone tonight
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom
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tqmies · 7 months
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Love Guard | Lee Chan
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Description. Lifeguard Lee Chan is a pain in your ass, and you swear he's only picked up this job to ogle at girls in bikinis. Little did you know, the only girl he wants to look at is you — not that you'd ever let him tell you that though — Especially now that you're convinced he's in love with your co-worker.
Pairing. Lifeguard!Lee Chan x Lifeguard! Fem Reader
Warnings. Curse words, (Pretend) Drowning, Karina attempts to meddle, Fluff, Chan's so whipped, Swimming, E2L (One sided)
Word count. 9.2k (Oops?)
Note: Summer has been over but I couldn't help myself! Welcome to my first Seventeen fic! Not 100% sure if I like this one but feedback is always appreciated!
"Two weeks." You repeat to yourself, attempting to calm yourself by digging your fingers into the squishy material of the rescue tube you have strapped on. Only two weeks left until the local waterpark is closed for the year — and until you have to look for another job — but the point remains a positive one.
In exactly two weeks from now, you will be freed from your own personal hell in human form, otherwise known as Lee Chan. Even when he's not stationed at the same ride as you, he's always finding his way over in your general proximity, just like he is now.
He's chatting up a few girls who look gorgeous in their tight fighting bikini sets, and you just about scoff at how obvious he is. You and Karina are set at the wave pool right now, and you feel bad for whatever station Chan is supposed to be manning. Does he ever do his job?
Karina quirks her head, her long ponytail falling to her side. "I heard he was supposed to be with the flow rider."
Ah yes the flow rider, the stationary surfing machine that tiny children and older adults alike swear they can do. You've only had to operate it once, and let's just say you complained so much you never had to do it again. Just this once, you can understand why he wandered over to the other side of the park.
"Vernon probably took over and kicked him out." You shrug, knowing how serious the older male takes his job.
"I hope so." Your friend giggles, patting your shoulder as she walks away. You notice her hand on the whistle, she must've spotted a few kids running again, nothing out of the ordinary.
A few feet away, Chan is just about whining into these poor girls ears. He smirks at them. “Is she looking this way?”
The girl on his left — whose name Chan hasn't caught — glances over her shoulder and then turns back. “She’s not, she’s watching the pool.”
One of the other girls snorts. “Looks like she’s doing her job.”
"That makes one of us." Chan slumps dramatically before an idea pops into his head. (The girls swear they could see a lightbulb above his head in that moment).
Chan swivels into the water after he stood to his feet, the others awaiting his revelation. "Okay, I'm going to need one of you to pretend you're drowning."
"Drowning?!" The blonde girl's jaw drops. Chan doesn't see why he has to explain it though. They would simply pretend they were drowning, he'd jump in all heroic like, and save them. And in the process, you'd notice and commend him for being so cool.
Chan was a genius, he nodded to himself.
So after explaining the plan to girl's that he had just met today, well about twenty minutes ago, he's ready to get this show on the road. He's lucky the girls felt bad for him after he gave the typical sob story on how his crush hated him. Otherwise, they probably wouldn't have agreed.
The blonde girl submerges herself into the water, on purpose, as Chan prepares to take action. But first, he had to take his shirt off. Oh don't act so shocked, he's literally trying to get your attention! He's not above showing a little skin!
You don't even notice though, too preoccupied with watching some children jump on each other. You approach them and politely tell them to not attempt to kill each other under the water. You didn't even think that needs to be said but, this job surprised you every day.
However, the minute you turn around, you notice some arm's flailing around in the water. It was the area where Chan was just standing, but he's nowhere to be found now. Shit! You were going to have to act, and fast!
So you dive into the water, peeling your eyes open in the chlorine to find the girl. You reach her in record time, using your rescue buoy to grab her and pull her out. You lay her on the concrete, shaking her shoulders and gaining no response.
"Someone get me an AED!" You shout, preparing to begin CPR. Karina rushes to your side, asking any bystanders if they knew what happened and trying to gain more information about the situation. Thank goodness for her.
A crowd begins to form around you as you recall the CPR process in your head, ready to begin when you're abruptly shoved out of the way.
"I got it!" Chan explains, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You're too stunned to reply so you just let him take the lead, watching his next moves in silence.
He barely starts to push on her chest when her eyes shoot open, and she begins coughing up imaginary water. You're a bit suspicious, but this was your first time dealing with an unconscious victim, guess you'd just been lucky so far.
She sits up as she starts talking, waving her hands around. "Don't call 9-1-1 or anything! I'm fine!"
Karina leans forward. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" The girl replies, before easily standing to her feet as she rushes out, her friends following behind her. They didn't even have their shoes on?
Chan watches them in defeat as you and Karina silently gape at each other. The girl had run away steadily, no signs of being disoriented for someone who had just been unconscious. It did all happen so fast though, maybe you weren't seeing things right.
Karina is the first to stand. "What just happened?"
You shake your head, your now wet hair dripping on you. "I don't even know."
Chan doesn't look as confused as you two though, but never mind that, you had a bone to pick with him first.
"And where the hell were you?"
Chan barely registers you speaking to him, as he's mentally recounting how his plan went awry. "I was getting my CPR keychain."
You want to bang your head against the ground. "You didn't have it on you?"
Hey, give him a break. He's human too! He forgets things sometimes, it can't be that bad! However, if he was going to convincingly look like he was saving the girl earlier, he had to have his keychain on him. Which is why he ran off looking for it...
"I left it in my locker." He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.
"God, just put a shirt on Lee." You stand to your feet. "And please do us all a favor and stay in your station."
"So you acknowledge that you checked me out?"
You deadpan. "I acknowledge that you make my job harder because an old woman almost slipped on the shirt you threw off!"
Had he really thrown his shirt? He didn't even notice, your wording had to be a bit exaggerated.
You cross your arms as you head back to the other side of the pool, back into your comfy life guard chair. And preferably, as far away from Lee Chan as possible.
..
"Then he shows up like some fucking hero and interferes with me doing my job!" You state sarcastically, slipping your sweatshirt on as you stand by your locker. Screwing the cap back onto your water bottle, you sigh.
Minghao, your close friend who you never managed to get stationed with, just listens in mild amusement. "But he saved the girl, right?"
You shake your head as you gather your things. "I don't know if you could call it saving. It was weird, she just up and ran off."
Minghao giggles. "Are you sure she was drowning?"
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say no." You admit, the jingling of a lanyard behind you catching your attention.
"Okay, I'm heading out." Karina says as she holds her bag over her shoulders. Your brain is too busy trying to configure how she looks so cute after a full day at work. You were sure you looked as worn-out as you felt.
"MIngyu's still around here somewhere. And Seungkwan and Chan are still in the back, I saw them fighting with the pool nets." Karina continues, referring to the long wands used to skim the pools for bugs and dirt. Or worse, fecal matter.
Thankfully, that's usually not the case. Nevertheless, you're grateful that wasn't your job today. You did have to lock up though, meaning that you had to get the aforementioned boys up and out.
"I'll get Minghao to yell at them." You nod, and Minghao just laughs.
Back at the pool, Chan is currently shuffling his brain for another plan, one that won't fail this time. Honestly, it probably made you more angry at him than anything. "I have two weeks Kwan."
Seungkwan rolls his eyes. "Oh God."
"Two weeks to make her mine." Chan repeats, rubbing his eyes.
"You're delusional." His friend replies, picking up his own pool stick and heading to the main area. "Why don't you start with something simple, like driving her home first."
Chan perks up at that. "Wait, that's actually a pretty good idea!"
"Actually?" Seungkwan starts, but Chan is already racing past him, pool cleaning long forgotten. Though the older male still shouts after him. "I always have great ideas!"
Chan mentally prepares himself on the way there, stopping by one of the outside mirrors in the kids splash area to check his hair. Looking good, he thought.
"Hey," Chan speaks, approaching you and Minghao as he tries not to give the latter a death stare. He could never figure out what kind of relationship the two of you had, and that made him uneasy. Not that you owed him an explanation or anything, but it'd be nice to get some clarification.
All he knew was that you and Minghao applied for this job together and you'd been friends for a while. Chan also knew you spent your lunch breaks together at the snack bar, courtesy of his friend Mingyu's spying, and he knew he took you home everyday.
But those could all just be friendly gestures, right?
You ignore Chan's presence as you turn to close up your locker, not bothering to acknowledge him. Minghao does though, "You heading home?"
"Yeah, actually." Chan responds, eyes never leaving your figure. He calls out your name, to which you roll your eyes to. "What?"
He stands up straight, slightly puffing his chest out in an attempt to appeal more to you. Was it working? Probably...Not. "Can I drive you home?"
"Not a chance." You shoot down immediately, not a hint of hesitance in your voice. Oh, that was fast. But Chan knew this wasn't gonna be easy after all.
"I'll buy you food on the way." He offers, clinging to his last ounce of self respect before he gets on the floor to start begging. He was not above that when it came to you.
You cross your arms. "Are you insinuating that I can't buy my own food?"
Of course things were going this way, "That's not what I-"
You put a hand up to stop him, smirking. "Because you're right, this stupid job doesn't pay me nearly as much as I'd like."
Chan stays quiet, unsure of what to say next. Luckily, you continue for him, all in a condescending tone though. "Whatever Lee. Even though you're probably doing this just to feel better about yourself for being such an asshole all the time, I'll bite."
Minghao grimaces, had you always been this harsh? Well, he knows the younger male did you piss you off more than usual today. He knows in his rational brain that he probably shouldn't let this happen. But will he? Yeah.
Minghao gently grabs your arm. "Call me when you get home, okay?"
"Of course." You reply, and Chan watches you flash a smile reserved for your friends only. He knows that because never once had you directed that smile at him. This was soon to change, or so help him.
"You can go ahead, I'll get 'Kwan and lock up." Minghao nods and you thank him.
Chan's just about losing his mind though, Minghao was on a nickname basis with Seungkwan? What the hell? Did Seungkwan not know that Minghao was enemy number one ?! He had some words for him later.
Right now though, his main focus was you. Even in the horrible florescent lighting of the locker room, he thought you looked beautiful.
You, on the other hand, were getting the ick from seeing Kim Mingyu walk around with flip flops. That was going to be hard to move on from.
Just to be clear, you really weren't interested in relationships right now. And yes, you and Minghao were just friends, strictly platonic. However, with on slow days, you liked to occupy yourself with staring at Mingyu's prominent muscles. And honestly, who could blame you?
Chan redirects your attention to him. "So, where to?"
You roll your eyes. "You were the one who invited me out, and you don't know where we're going?"
He looks down. "McDonalds?"
So that's how you two end up in the drive-thru of the famous golden arches. Chan has a million thoughts running through his head, the main one being how he managed to get you in his car, willingly!
In another universe, Chan imagined that this would be your first date. He'd make you laugh, hold your hand, and maybe even get a kiss at the end of the night.
"Should I get a Coke or a Sprite?" You speak to yourself, pulling Chan out of his thoughts.
He straightens his posture. "Oh you should-"
"I wasn't actually asking." You roll your eyes, already mentally having decided in your head.
Chan shuts his mouth.
"You know, I'm really interested in hearing why you invited me out of a sudden." You say, leaning your head against his car window.
Chan's scrambling for the words. "I just wanted to talk."
"About?"
Chan breathes in, here goes nothing. "Well, we only have a few weeks left working at the park, and I kind of.. like this girl."
You narrow your eyes, knowing where this was going. "Oh lord, did you really drag me all this way to try to get me to set you up with Karina?"
Chan's eyes widen. What?! How did you get to that conclusion. Chan barely knew the other girl, much less liked her. In all honesty, he barely even paid her any mind, always too preoccupied with staring at you by her side. He rushes to deny it. "No-"
"You don't have to lie." You speak, rolling your eyes. "You took me here on a bribe so I could put in a good word with you."
Chan's so confused right now.
"Sorry but I think Karina's worth more than whatever you're getting me on the dollar menu." You spout sarcastically. "And anyways, why would I help set her up with you?"
Now, Chan has to speak up, because really? Was he that bad that you couldn't even imagine setting him up with a friend ? He's mildly offended, even if he could care less about her. It's more so that he's utterly infatuated with you, and he can't believe you don't see him as possible boyfriend material. "Huh? What's wrong with me?"
You narrow your eyes. "Well, for starters you're broke, lazy, and irresponsible. Oh, and stupid, immature, full of yourself-"
You were really laying it on thick, and Chan doesn't think he can take anymore stabs at his character without possibly jumping out of his car window. He interrupts, "Anything else?"
"I wasn't even done yet." You stop counting on your fingers. "Point is, you're not good enough for Karina."
He doesn't even care about who you're talking about anymore, he throws his hands up. "You don't even know that, you've never seen me on a date." Because you've never given me a chance, but he only speaks that last part in his head.
"I've seen your everyday character, that says more than enough."
Chans on the verge of ramming the car in front of him in line. "So what kind of guy would be good enough?"
You shrug. "Probably someone like Joshua."
"The manager?" Chan draws back, because were you referring to Karina's taste or yours? He was so lost right now. "He's like way too old."
You click your tongue. "I said someone like him. He's smart, soft-spoke, responsible, and he knows how to deal with conflict."
Chan grips his steering wheel. Yes, Joshua had his life together, but that's because he was older! Was that really what you were into? Chan might as well throw in the towel now. "It sounds like you want someone like Joshua."
"Maybe, I don't know."" You cross your arms in thought. "Well, he's kind of boring, can't be much fun dating someone like that."
So there is a drawback to perfectly stunning men like Joshua, or was he just saying that to make himself feel better? He'd have to ask Seungkwan for advice tomorrow. "Well-"
"Whenever you're ready." A voice takes over through the intercom. Chan hadn't realized he had already pulled up this far.
He didn't even know what he wanted, in fact this whole conversation made his stomach turn. Was he even hungry anymore?
However, you knew exactly what you wanted. But Chan's silent by the intercom so you do the only feasible thing to do, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over him. Climbing past the center console, you throw your body halfway out of the window and start reciting your order.
Unbeknownst to you, the male in the car with you was losing his mind. Why were you so close to him? Why did you smell so good? Why was your body basically on top of his (You aren't touching at all)? And Why did this feel so intimate?
You turn to him, still in the same position. "What do you want?"
Chan's face is red, and he's trying his best to stay cool, avoiding eye contact. "A burger."
"Which one?"
Poor guy can't think straight. "The normal one?"
You sigh, turning back towards the speaker. "And a Big Mac."
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"I think Chan likes you." You speak, seeking refuge from the scorching hot summer sun under the tiny roof peeking out from the food stand.
Karina sips on her slushie, that's halfway melted, and grimaces. "No way."
You offer a tight lipped smile before shooting her glare. "Don't give me that look! Who wouldn't like you?"
Karina laughs. "It's not that I don't think he'd like me, it's that he doesn't."
"And how are you so sure?" You ask, adjusting the straw on your own slushie.
"Um, okay one, he's never held a conversation with me for longer than two minutes." She starts, placing her cup on the counter. Trying her best to stop the syrup from getting her hands all sticky.
You digress though. "That's because you make him nervous!"
"Two, we barely know each other."
"You haven't given him a chance." You tease, unaware of prying ears listening to your conversation. Give you a break though, honestly, it was too hot for all of this.
"Where did you even get this idea from?" She inquires in disbelief.
"Last night when he took me to McDonalds."
Karina's jaw goes slack. "You voluntarily went somewhere with him outside of work?"
Guess you had forgotten to mention that, oops. "He bribed me with food."
She narrows her eyes, suspicious but moving on anyways. "And then he told you he liked me?"
"No," You answer truthfully. "But he didn't deny it."
Karina shakes her head. "I think you're just desperate for some cute lifeguard-love-story to shake things up around here, and it's not going to work on me."
You giggle. "Whatever you say."
"You could have your own story if you just asked out Minghao already." She suggests meekly, despite knowing your constant insistence that there was nothing going on between you two.
"That's gross, I think I just threw up in my mouth."
"Yeah, I know." She teases before lowering her voice so only you can hear, and her eyes dart over to Mingyu making a hot dog. "But you could finally strike something up with mister beef cake over here."
You roll your eyes. "He's too hot for me, half the park wants him."
"He gives you free food."
You hush your friend. "He gives everyone free food!"
"You win this battle." Karina says, trashing her finished cherry drink. "But the war is far from over."
"Get back to your post, Yoo." You sigh, cleaning up the mess your melting treats made with a few napkins and discarding them.
Mingyu comes back to the front where you are after noticing you were alone, "Going back?"
You groan. "Unfortunately my break is over."
He offers a small chuckle, and all you think about is how good he looks. Especially since he's donning a sleeveless red shirt, matching the parks general colors, and you can see his arms in their full glory. No wonder you'd heard girls in passing giggle about how they wanted to take a bite out of the food stand guy, you saw the appeal.
Why couldn't he be a lifeguard? Just saying, it would be nice to see him without a pesky shirt sometimes. Oh you were so embarrassing.
"Have you seen Hao? I wanted to talk to him about something?" The male inquires but you shake your head.
"He called in today," You stand. "Said he felt sick, or some other kind of lie."
"He's not sick?"
"Judging by his Instagram stories on a boat?" You quirk your head. "I'd say no."
MIngyu laughs at your humor, and you're flashing that pretty smile again, and Mingyu's feeding right into it. Are you two flirting?!
Chan hates it!
Not your smile, no he could never hate your smile. But he hates how he's never once gotten to see it aimed at him. Yet here you were, chatting it up with Mingyu? Did the nuggets he bought you last night mean nothing? He thought they were a great symbol of his undying love for you!
Vernon looks unimpressed. "Stare at him any longer and you might just burn a hole through him."
Chan narrows. "That's the plan"
Vernon's bored. "Okay, this is getting weird."
"I just don't get it, what does she even see in guys like Joshua? Or Mingyu?" Chan crosses his arms.
"Maybe because they do their job-" Vernon tries to get his station partners attention back.
But Chan's having none of it. "Yeah right, look at Mingyu! He's flirting on duty!"
"He just runs the food stand, in his defense. Half the time isn't he helping you spy on her and Minghao?"
"Well it seems like he's playing for the other team right now, standing there and talking to my girl!"
"Your girl." Vernon repeats, shaking his head in disbelief as he mocks the younger male. "You're ridiculous."
Chan stays rooted in his place. "I can't even believe-"
"Hey, Chan right?" A voice plucks him out of his plotting to kill Mingyu (Okay, maybe killing was extreme, but at the very least he was going to jump him. Eh, that might be a little too much as well, he was still technically Chan's friend. Maybe he could-)
Oh wait, someone was talking to him, and he should probably respond. "Yeah that's me."
"Oh, well I'm Karina." The girl introduces herself as Chan finally gets to take a look at her. He knew who she was, everyone did, but the two had rarely a few words to each other before now, if anything.
He adjusts his sunglasses, eyes barely moving from you and Mingyu. He had to make sure Mingyu didn't try anything. This was a matter of national security! "Nice to meet you, I guess"
"What's up Karina?" Vernon asks, trying to break up this weird tension as he saw how Chan effectively ignored you.
Karina places her hand on her hip. "I'll just be straight forward, someone told me that Chan had a little thing for me, but I know that's not the case, even though she's entirely convinced."
Chan's irritated. "What?"
"I'm not blind, Chan." Karina raises a brow. "I know you have a crush on her."
"Well yeah, could he be more obvious?" Vernon snidely remarks as Chan does his best to ignore his comment.
"So," Chan looks down, slightly dissapointed. "Did you come just to make fun of me?"
"No," She leans forward. "I've decided I'm gonna help you."
"Help?" Chan's taken back as he snaps his head up.
"Help?" Vernon parrots, though he sounds more confused.
She smiles. "Yup"
"Why?"
Karina stares at her perfectly manicured nails. "You're a decent guy. Good looking, nice enough, and I know you're trying your best."
Chan blinks, this was the complete opposite of what you had told him. Karina continues, "But mostly, it's because I can tell you really like her. And I think she deserves someone that'll treat her well for once."
"Well give it up," Chan sighs, wiping sweat from his brow. "Mingyu's about to propose to her anyways."
"Mingyu's not doing anything," Karina moves her hair. "He been standing there like a dweeb the whole time, completely oblivious to everyone around him."
"And she still likes him more than me."
Your friend glares at the male. "Well this isn't going to work if you're going to be so negative."
"Karina," He turns to her. "Honestly, what's the point? She wants nothing to do with me."
"Because she's blind, she can't see how much you like her."
"So, what should we do?" Vernon pipes in, surprisingly intently following the situation.
"We have to prove to her how much you like her!"
"And how can I do that?"
"Don't worry, I have that part covered."
...
"And then he threw up right next to the trashcan." Jeonghan — one of the new hires — finishes venting to you about one of the kids on the waterslide he was manning.
"Swear there should be some kind of law forbidding kids from eating four hotdogs and then getting on a ride that sends you spinning." You sympathize.
"Or people could just have more common sense." Jeonghan comments, before his eyes drift off somewhere else. "Is that Karina talking to Chan?"
Your eyes widen as you try to follow his line of sight. "What? Where?"
"Over there." Jeonghan points with his head, towards the bathrooms.
Sure enough, leaning on the bricks outside the bathrooms, was your friend talking to Lee Chan. Had he finally gained the courage to talk to her? And oh no, was she actually reciprocating?
"I didn't know they were friends." Jeonghan breaks the silence.
"They're not." You raise a brow. "I think he likes her."
Jeonghan looks at you like you've grown three heads. "You're joking right?"
You shrug, "Why would I be joking?"
"Everyone knows that he-" Your friend stops himself before waving you off. "Never mind, you wouldn't believe me anyways."
"Believe what?"
Jeonghan snickers. "Nothing."
You're eager to press on more about whatever he was talking about but the manager, Joshua, asks if you and Jeonghan can get showered already so you can all head out.
By the bathrooms, Chan's about to start throwing a fit. "She looked over here once!"
Karina pats his shoulder lightly. "We'll get her next time. For now, I'll just have to feed her a great narrative of you until she realizes she wants you for herself."
Chan looks down. "This is hopeless."
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"Holy shit, where is Chan?" Minghao complains, but you show no sympathy as he was seemingly having the time of his life yesterday.
You shrug, adjusting the strap of the bathing suit you had just put on. "Don't know, don't care."
Your friend tsks. "At least we get out early today."
You shake your head. "Doesn't matter, Joshua's forcing us into that work bonding thing."
MInghao groans, resting his forehead against the steel locker. "I forgot about that, what's the point again? We've had plenty of time to bond already."
"It's mandatory if we want that last paycheck." You remind him and he sighs.
He grabs a bottle from his locker and uncaps it. "Can you put sunscreen on me?"
You nod, it was a normal occurrence, and usually no one batted an eye. Even as you rubbed it into his face, too close for it to be considered just friendly, you know it's all platonic.
Chan on the other hand, isn't so sure.
Him and Karina were walking up the gravel path and the scene hits him before he walks into the area. "H-He's rubbing sunscreen on her back!"
Karina tries to calm him. "They do that for each other all the time."
"Then why does it look so romantic!"
"You're overthinking!"
"Seungkwan rubs my sunscreen in! Why don't you do it for her?!"
"I always get here late!" She defends. "Anyways, this isn't about me, we need to get in there!"
You're instantly drawn to Karina and Chan loudly entering, and it seems the two have gotten close over the past few days.
"Hey guys," Minghao greets and they offer him a hello back before opening their lockers.
"Chan," Karina speaks louder than her normal volume as to draw your attention. "Could you help me put on sunscreen? Can't reach my back today."
Chan nods, grabbing the bottle from her hands and slowly helping her rub it in. He wants to make sure you looking too, and how he's one hundred percent sure he can do it better than Minghao can.
"Uh Rina," You speak before you all head out.
"Yes?" She responds, hoping for you to say something about Chan.
"You have a couple white streaks on your back." And you grimace at Chan's poor job of doing something as simple as rubbing sunscreen in. "Do you want me to-"
"No! No," Karina laughs at her outburst. "Um, I'm sure Chan can help me fix it."
You almost flinch.
"Right, Chan?" Your friend grits her teeth so the male could take the hint.
"Oh, right!" He catches on and then vigorously continues to rub the cream into her skin. He's a little too aggressive with it.
"Ow- um, okay!" She lets out. "I think I'm good now."
You stop, "Okay..."
Chan scurries off, and he realizes he actually needs to get his own swim trunks on, and for heavens sake, where is his first aid whistle?!
You two walk away, you picking at your nails as you dread the day ahead. Your friend needs to break the silence. "So, you're staying today?"
"I wish I had a choice." You grovel.
"I feel you."
You catch the time on one of the parks various clocks. "We open in five."
Your partner nods at the reminder, continuing to with you just out of the sight of the boys and any other listeners. "So, what do you think of Chan? Isn't he sweet?"
You're taken aback. "Is this you trying to get my approval?"
"No.."
"Because you could do way better."
She almost stops in her tracks. "What?! But Chan has lots of redeeming qualities."
You feel like this is a prank. "Like?"
"Well he's nice, a good listener, and-"
"Oh, you got it bad." You interrupt.
She's about to start swinging. "No, you know he's not my type."
You frown. "So you're leading him on?"
Karina deadpans. "We're just friends, but all I'm saying is, uh, he's not a bad guy!"
You almost stop walking. "Right..."
She speaks again, trying her best not to seem pushy. "You know, I think the two of you have a lot in common, you could be good friends."
Before you can even respond, someone is yelling your name across the park, and its too early in the morning for that.
Though your face softens when you realize its Mingyu beckoning you over. You tell Karina you'll meet her at your station and separate. She was acting kind of odd anyhow.
"Mingyu," You approach him, the shade now concealing your face as you take a seat on one of the chairs. You try to keep your eyes from wandering, mainly to his exposed arms. "What's up?"
He smiles' bashfully, leaning on the counter. "Well, I've been wanting to ask you this for some time,"
You can sense he's a little nervous, so you nod your head. "What is it?"
"Could I maybe..." He trails again, before closing his eyes in mental preparation. "Have Karina's number?"
You gape like a fish out of water, doing your best to conceal your light disappointment. "K-Karinas number?"
"Well yeah, I'm interested in her. Unless she's seeing someone." He stumbles on his words.
You tilt your head. "Not sure, maybe you should ask Chan."
"Chan?" Mingyu almost laughs. "He doesn't like her like that."
You grimace at that. Had Chan been telling everyone that he didn't like Karina, when clearly he had been acting the opposite? Sure, she didn't like him back but, for him to be saying things like that was a low blow. "Did he tell you that?"
"Huh, what?" Mingyu looks confused. "Well, not directly. Though, It wouldn't make sense because he already likes someone."
You wave him off. "Doesn't matter, either way, you should ask her yourself. I really can't give you her number on my behalf." You explain, feeling kind of bad, but keeping a peppy voice.
"You think she'd give it to me?"
You smile. "You'll never know if you don't try."
Watching, once again, a few feet await is Lee Chan. He's using all his self control not to rip the foam tube in his hands apart, but Vernon brings him back to earth, or more like back to helping him tie up the obstacle course in one of the pools.
Even as he's experiencing red-hot jealously from watching you interact with his friend, he can't help but admire how pretty you were. You somehow managed to make that stupid visor look cute. And trust me, Chan thought no one could make that hat look cute.
If Chan was anyone else, he probably would've given up on his painful crush by now, but Chan wasn't anyone. He's not sure where his liking for you started, maybe it was that first day you joined. Looking all pretty as you stood next to Minghao and introduced yourself. Chan had overheard from Joshua that you had impressive swim skills, and you had a crazy dedication for your job.
It was a few weeks before he even got to interact with you. You were pretty much attached at your friends hip, taking a minute to warm up to the others. You had gotten partnered with Karina for a ride once and she helped you get along with the rest of the staff pretty well.
That's not how you first knew of Chan though.
No, that was a while later. One hot day a few years ago, when Chan was still scrawny and more awkward with girls. He had finally had a chance to grab a slushie, opting for the purple mystery flavor that rested in the machines. (Chan thinks it was a result of a machine that hadn't been cleaned, so it really just tasted like a mixture of all the flavors.) Anyways, he happened to be in a hurry due to him chatting with Mingyu for well over his break.
Which meant he booked it to the other side of the park.
Which consequentially meant that he wasn't watching where he was going. This meant that his slushie met an unfortunate end on your lifeguard bathing suit. And all over the floor.
Now, you were testing patience at the time. This was a new job, plus it was an accident, you could forgive the guy. You also didn't mind that he was pretty cute.
That was until he ran.
Look, in Chan's defense, you made him so nervous. You were so much prettier up close! He stood there frozen for a few minutes, stuttering and thinking of ways to apologize. So he did the only viable thing to do, he ran to the bathrooms to fetch napkins!
Only, he didn't say a word so you thought he literally just ran off to avoid conflict - which wasn't even happening in the first place!
After that, you dubbed Lee Chan someone to avoid. He obviously left you in a mean spirited haste, a deep purple stain blotched all on the front of your uniform. You figured he had a good laugh about it too!
Chan regrets it everyday, why didn't he just act like a normal human?! Why did he have to make things harder for himself?!
By the time Chan had returned, you were long gone. You had ran to the bathroom on the verge of tears, basically abandoning your post and leaving Minghao to run after you.
So if anyone asked, you'd say that your distaste for Lee Chan was completely valid.
...
"Great work today team." Joshua addresses you all, clapping his hands together before placing them on his hips. "I'm really proud of you all today."
"Which is why you should let us go home." Jeonghan pipes up from behind you in the cluster of a group, smiling hopefully.
Joshua laughs sarcastically. "But then you'd miss all the fun!"
The smile dies on Jeonghans face as Joshua starts recanting the same little group seminar tips he gave last year. And the year before that.
Then he waves a hand out. "I've noticed that there's been some tension on the team lately, so we're going to heal that with some bonding time!"
Karina stiffens beside you, leaning in to whisper. "I'm already bored."
You giggle a bit as Joshua starts pairing up teams for an obstacle course through the park. Normally, you wouldn't care, that was until Joshua cited a twenty five dollar Starbucks gift card awarded to the winner. Oh, he had your attention now.
"Karina, I know you don't talk to Jeonghan a lot so you're with him!" Joshua says esthetically, while you sigh at losing two possible partners. Well, there was still Hao.
"Minghao and Vernon."
Well there goes that.
You finally are graced with the call of your name but are immediately shot back down to earth when the accompanying name leaves your managers lips. "..And Chan."
You immediately step up in protest. "Are we allowed to switch partners?"
Chan frowns but regains a bit of hope as Joshua shakes his head. "Nope, sorry but I have to be firm with this. In fact, you two are the tension I was referring to earlier."
"Are you kidding?"
Joshua narrows his eyes, gripping his clipboard. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"Joshua, with all due respect, there is no tension! It's just Chan being an idiot!" You complain, widening your eyes.
Ouch, Chan thinks. That went straight to his ego.
Though your boss stands his ground. "I would just like you two to work together for once."
You scoff, muttering a string of curses under your breath which Joshua pretends not to hear, Chan does as well. For the sake of his pride.
Your manager finishes reading the names off of the paper and announces the commencement of the challenge, which you could be less than excited about.
"For this activity, one of you is going to be blindfolded. This will help strengthen the trust you two have in each other."
Trust? You and Chan just looked at each other after you were handed the blindfold. You didn't even know what the objective of the game was yet.
"Part of this activity is deciding who will be blindfolded amongst yourselves." Joshua continues, rubbing salt into the wound.
"Well-" You begin, about to start arguing when Chan holds his hand out. He can see that you're definitely uncomfortable with the idea.
"I'll be blindfolded." He states.
"What?" He wasn't even going to fight you on it? "Really?"
He shrugs, trying to will his face from not turning red. "I trust you."
You blankly stare for a minute, trying to read a hint of humor or anything of that sort in his eyes. But you come up empty, his expression dead serious. You just handed him the blindfold, leaving him to fend for himself as he tied it around his eyes.
What did he mean he trusted you?
Karina finishes tying Jeonghan's when she turns back to your boss. "Now what?"
"You're going to lead them through the water course," Joshua smiles, although it seems a bit mischievous. He had to be getting a kick out of this. "The ones that come out first, and the most dry, win."
You gape, you were supposed to lead this grown ass man through the water course and not let him fall in?
"Lead your partner to the starting position, and then we'll begin."
You do a steady job at pushing at Chan's back to the finish line. You're less than enthusiastic about it though.
You line up among the others, knowing you'll probably come out of this ordeal soaking wet, and that's less than desirable.
The course is simple, lined up floating fuzzy blocks paced in a pathway like structure. Then you have to follow up a little climb of inflatable stairs. Then back down to the finish line. Easy enough right?
Chan's shaking right now, he's not looking forward to falling in and possibly being left to drown — as if he's not in the prescence of a group of lifeguards right now — as if he's not one himself.
He's still scared though, give him a break, he can't see!
He hears the sound of a whistle and you begin pushing at his back, leading him onto the first block. The weight of you two displaces the block, and you can feel the other block getting further.
"Okay, move about two inches onto the next block, don't fall." You instruct him and he follows, waving his foot around until he feels the safety of the makeshift ground.
You jump onto it after him, "The next one is directly in front."
And you're pleased as he lands right on it. The two of you are ahead of some of the others as well, Seungkwan already having fallen into the water, and Vernon still on the first block as Minghao tries to encourage him to move already!
"The next one is far, so I'm going to go ahead of you. I'll grab your hand after and pull you, alright?" You explain and Chan nods.
You do as you said and then hold your hand out, grabbing his palm and pulling him so the blocks float closer together. He carefully makes the step and you cheer a little in your head.
You only had one more block, then the stairs, and you were home free. You could practically taste your drink now.
Well, maybe if Chan hadn't almost fell over.
You grab both of his arms in an attempt to stop him, and you catch him just in time. He winces at the prospect of falling, and you squeeze him. "I'm not going to let you fall, okay? I've got you."
Chan's glad he can't see you, because then he'd bear witness to you noticing the growing redness of his face. And if he had to acknowledge it, then he'd jump into the water himself.
You two successful make it to the last block and you cheer, the others having more trouble with their team work behind you. The others seem to be having a hard time due to lack of trust in their guiders.
You notice that Chan had trusted completely in everything you had said, even though you knew he didn't want to splash in the pool.
You stare at him for a minute, and he starts talking. "Uhh, aren't we supposed to keep moving"
You shake your thoughts from your head. "Up the stairs now, I'll lead you, just hold my hand."
Before you know it, the two of you had made it to the end. You take off Chan's blindfold as you announce your victory. Throwing your arms around Chan as you celebrate. "We won! We beat those suckers."
"Those suckers are right here!" Karina says, panting as she comes down the stairs. She's wet, pulling a much dryer Jeonghan behind her.
You keep your hands around Chan as Karina explains. "He stepped back on the block and basically pushed me off on accident."
You giggle at that, face on a few inches from Chan as he tries not to combust. Lord, he was so in love with you. Your pretty eyes as they crinkled while you let out the prettiest laugh.
Karina notices and she lets out a smile. He really did like you, anyone could see it in his eyes.
You don't notice though, sliding your hands off of Chan as you jokingly tease Karina. "I won the card! I won the card."
Jeonghan pulls off his blindfold just in time for you to see him roll his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
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Chan insisted you made a night of spending the card together. You didn't mind, telling him you'd meet him there after your much needed shower.
So here you sat in the Starbucks lobby, awaiting Chan as you had the card and he had already passed you his order. You tapped away on your phone as you hear the chime of the door and you hear someone sitting across from you.
You don't mind his presence, weirdly, you felt he was really vulnerable with you today. While it likely didn't mean much to him, it had you overthinking everything.
"Here's your drink, it just came out." You speak first, pushing the cup towards him.
Chan thanks you and drums his fingers on the side of the cup. "You know, I think this is the longest we've been together without you saying you hate me or something."
You shrug. "It's hard to be mad in a Starbucks. Place smells like heaven, plus you showed out in the game today."
He waves you off. "It's easy to trust you, we've known each other for long."
You snort. "More like you've bothered me for so long."
"Oh, admit it. I make your job more interesting. If it wasn't for me constantly causing a scene then you'd be bored out of your mind."
"I guess you have a point." You reluctantly agree as you sip your drink.
He smirks. "I know."
You purse your lips. "So, any updates with Karina? I know you two have been spending time together lately. Seems I was wrong."
Chan sighs. "No, I'm not into her in that way."
Brows raised, you chuckle, asking a question you already knew the answer to. "She's not interested or?"
"No, and neither was I." He states, eyes meeting yours. "She was never the one I liked."
You don't know why but you stutter a bit. "S-She wasn't?"
Chan looks away. "If it had been her and I out there today, I would've fell into the water."
"What do you mean by that, Chan?"
"You know what I mean by that."
...
You'd been avoiding Chan for the past two days, even constantly buttering up Joshua so you could be on the opposite side of wherever Chan was. It was wrong, you know, but you couldn't help it.
You were a coward, you couldn't even think about acknowledging any feelings Chan had for you. You only had a week left until the end of Summer anyways. Maybe if you ignored it you could move on.
You couldn't like Chan, not after the years you spent disliking him. Sure, had he done anything else to make you increasingly upset? Well, no. And he did usually brighten up slow days with his presence. And he did leave random water bottles by your chair when he knew you were too busy to go get one yourself. (He didn't know you knew, you figured this was his way of trying to get on your good side after the ordeal, but you never forgave him)
That was another thing too, how could he say he liked you after purposefully trying to embarrass you? Sure, it was a while ago, but you never forgot.
You're brought back from your thoughts when Jeonghan speaks, "I'm sorry, your child is not tall enough to ride this ride. It's regulation."
In front of you was an increasingly stubborn woman and what seemed to be her child as she whined about rules you had nothing to do with. "This is ridiculous!"
"It's regulated by the city, ma'am." Jeonghan shrugs. "You can leave a comment card up front if you have a complaint."
She just scoffs and storms off, stomping loudly down the stairs with her child in tow. You'd never understand some people.
Jeonghan turns to you. "Been here the whole summer and I'm still not used to it."
"You never get used to it, trust me."
He laughs in response, before changing the subject. "It's quiet up here, usually Chan's in the general vicinity by now."
You stiffen at the name. "He must be busy."
"He's never too busy for you." Jeonghan crosses his arms.
You bite the inside of your cheek. "Too busy to bother me?"
He suddenly turns serious. "I don't understand, Chan is nothing but nice to you and yet you're always ratting on him like he's a pest."
"You don't get it." You say, hoping he'll drop it.
He doesn't though. "Sure, he's a little overbearing at times but it's only because he really likes you."
"Don't say that."
"Say what?"
"Say that he likes me."
"Are you stupid?" Jeonghan spouts, and you're shocked at his tone. "The poor guy looks at you like you hung the stars yourself and you always just brush him off like he's a nuisance! But you know what? Even after all the mean things you do, he does nothing but talk greatly about you. About how you're the kindest soul, about how your smile lights up his day. How you're the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on."
You stay quiet, holding back tears.
"He thinks you're the greatest girl in the world, you've just never given him a chance to tell you." He finishes, leaning against the railing.
"I don't believe you."
Jeonghan turns away. "Then you'll have to ask him yourself."
You open your mouth to speak, but it's as if your friend reads your mind. "I-"
"Go," He interrupts, jutting his chin in that direction. "Before it's too late. He's with Vernon at the flow rider."
You nod and take off down the stairs, mindful of the puddles of water on the floor, but your urgency remains the same. You had to know, you had to hear it from him. You need to know why.
It's not too far in the afternoon that there's a huge line, only a couple people standing around but Vernon's helping them. Chan stands to the side looking unoccupied, now was your chance.
Wading through the people, your heart beating against your chest, you find yourself standing in front of Chan.
He averts his eyes, unsure of how to start the conversation. He had gotten the message from your avoidance, you had made your point. "You want to, um, ride the flow rider or..?"
You clear your throat. "Do you like me?"
He leans back at the question. "I thought it was obvious."
"And this isn't a prank?"
He wipes his palms on his pants. "W-Why would it be a prank?"
"I don't know! How am I supposed to believe you after that slushie?" You say, genuinely distraught.
"What slushie?"
"The one you spilled on when I first got hired here! What kind of joke was that?" You ask, finally glad to let it out into the air after holding it in for so long.
"What do you mean? I ran off to get napkins and when I came back you were gone!" Chan answered, confused on why you even remembered that.
"You could've told me! I thought you had ran off to laugh at me!" You argued.
He stands, ignoring the attention you two had drawn from others. "I would've said something but I clammed up and didn't know what to say, you were just so pretty-"
You straighten up. "Chan, you're a moron."
He stills. "I know."
"I thought you were cute before then too. But I felt so embarrassed after that, I even had to pay for a new one because Joshua said someone took the spare."
Chans eyes soften. "I grabbed it for you, but as we know, I never got to give it to you."
You look down at the new information. "Oh."
"I like you, I really do." He begins. "I like a lot of things about you. Like your perseverance, your passion for this job, your love for your friends. Just one of these days I wished you would've talked to me long enough without ripping me apart."
"I'm a bit harsh, aren't I?"
"It's one of the things I like about you, you're not scared to put anyone in their place." He admits, and it was true. Chan liked all of you, not just your better qualities.
"This whole time I thought you were the jerk when really it was me." You remark, eyes on your shoes and the floor beneath you.
"I don't blame you, I'd hate me too." Chan chuckles.
You shake your head. "I don't hate you. In fact, these past few days have been so draining. As much as I complained, you gave me something to look forward too. Knowing I'd see you do something to get my attention, just didn't know why you wanted it so bad."
"Now you know." He steps forward. "And between you and I, I've done a lot of embarrassing things to get you to look my way."
"Oh, you did them on purpose?" You tease.
He playfully rolls his eyes. "Obviously."
You assured him that you believed him as you smiled. He grabs your hand in his, the two of you standing in the sweltering heat of the park. He rubs his thumb over your palm. "So what now?"
"Take me on a date."
"You want to?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't." You respond. "I want to give us a chance."
"You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."
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BONUS:
"That bastard really did it." Seungkwan remarks, eyes bulging out of their sockets as he watches you and Chan flirt by the lockers before closing.
Karina stares on as well. "They're so cute that I want to throw up."
"Give them a break." Minghao butts in. "Today is the last day."
"Thank the Lord." Vernon approaches the others. "As if he couldn't get more annoying about her, I've had to hear him recount every date they've had so far."
Minghao cringes. "She's the same way."
Karina agrees. "I'm not even that bad."
Seungkwan looks over at her. "So how are thing with Mingyu anyways?"
Karina put her hands up. "Oblivious as always."
Shrugging, Minghao leans on the wall. "Should we just ditch them here and go?"
"But we haven't finished cleaning-" Jeonghan, who appeared out of nowhere starts before his voice dies down. "Yeah, lets go."
"They'll definitely be too in love to notice us leaving."
"For sure."
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bitchlessdino · 6 months
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take a seat (m)
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Pairing: chan x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 2.9k tags: house mates au, couch sex, spitting, thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem. receiving) Summary: Who knew your favorite seat would someone else’s lap, let alone Lee Chan of all people. author note: hi. yall don't know how hype i am to see all of dino variety appearances, not only that. i am so proud of how far he's come. i only can say this was all him. finally his merit is being shown and appreciated. this is all so amazing. what an great time to be alive.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch
It was the dead of night, long hours past hours of dusk and you were hitting the liquid fire too carelessly. You were starting to see things not clearly and started seeing people that you wouldn’t otherwise think about look more breathtaking than the rest. Every sway, every gaze, every lock of hair. He moved with both precision and ease, so effortlessly perfect in every light that hit him.
He even had you bewitched, probably the last person that would’ve ever thought these things about him. He’s charming—no doubt about it—but young and bright wasn’t your type. Lee Chan had to be the youngest and brightest. You knew one day you’d drown that brightness until that light would turn dim. That’s what you’ve always said, now you could feel your dribble coming from both ends.
You picked up remnants from your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes not once led astray away from his body that moved like shadows. Your legs stayed clamped together, twisting and turning in your seat. ‘Maybe it was the alcohol’, you thought, but that churn in your stomach and that shiver down your spine made it undeniable. Every time his eyes went as far as lingering in your direction, you’d flicker your gaze elsewhere in fear of being caught. You were ninety-seven percent sober at this point, and that mindset hadn’t changed.
“Okay, let’s wrap it up! 2 am. Time to get going. Uber everyone!” Seungcheol rounded up all his friends, pulling his phone out of his pocket to grab a ride.
You stood off to the side, silently observing as most of your friends tried animatedly convincing Seungcheol that the night was still young. He was still in your sight, so crazy mesmerizing that it made you claw up your own thigh. Your feet tapped anxiously against the concrete, pretending to think about anything else, and soon enough an SUV with a big logo on the windshield.
“Get in, children!”
“Wait,” you stopped them in their tracks, “there’s only enough for four extra people. We have five.”
Seungcheol shrugged, “I figured we could squeeze, or have someone sit on someone else’s lap.”
“We’re five fully grown adults,” Wonwoo interjected matter-of-factly, “There’s no squeezing. Any volunteers?”
You sighed, “I guess I will, since I’m a last minute addition tonight.”
“Alright, Chan will be the sacrificial lamb.”
The rest of your friends stared back at the young man expectedly, a puzzled expression on his face. “Uh, sure. No problem with me.”
You offered him an awkward smile before mouthing ‘sorry,’ to which he nodded, giving you silent reassurance that all was okay. 
Everyone else made themselves comfortable and you made do with the painfully awkward situation, feeling Chan’s smooth and toned legs as you sat down. Like heaven underneath you,  you almost melted into the durability of his thighs, nearly audibly moaning upon contact. You shifted your weight in his lap cautiously, attempting to find a less than comfortable position with no signs of success, having you internally curse to yourself. Like you were doing to your sanity, you gripped the bar above the car door to keep still, shallow breaths escaping your lungs. You glanced back at him apologetically; (1) for practically using him like a chair, (2) for enjoying it immensely.
“Am I heavy? I am, aren't I?”
He shook his head reassuringly, kindness in his eyes. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”
One fast run over a speed bump and the lack of a seat belt caused a bounce against your fleshy seat. Chan instinctively found purchase around your waist, guiding you back to his lap safely as he locked his arms around you like an automatic safety net. His groan rose the hairs on your arms and the sensation of his toned chest hitting your back in his embrace made you swallow back audibly pleasure.
“Chan,” you softly moaned, sounding more sexually charged than you intended.
“Still good,” he repeated in a rasp, a subtle but noticeable flush on his cheeks. “Nothing I didn’t expect.”
Your other housemates chuckled like silent observers, keeping to themselves. The eldest passenger of all cleared his throat before making his announcement. “Sit tight, guys. We’re almost back at the sharehouse.”
No sworn word of Seungcheol could drop your elevated heart rate. Every passing minute you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were held for all those two seconds, feeling the pool of your heat dampen the thin fabric of your underwear. You avoided his eyes the rest of the trip, ignoring the burning churn in your stomach.
You couldn’t run out of that car fast enough when you reached the sharehouse lot. Your heart pumping out of your chest, you were ready to absolve all unchaste sensations to save face by locking yourself in your room for as long as you could. The others were quick to follow behind and you heard their footsteps a beat after yours up the stairs.
“Hey wait!”
Chan’s voice at the end of the hall could stop you from swinging your door for it to shut, sparing you a moment of peace. That moment didn’t last all that long before there was a knock on the other side of the door. Through the wood, you can hear the heavy panting of a man who ran too many flights of stairs too quickly to get there, you know because you were hyperventilating the same way getting away from him.
“You ran…so fast…barely caught up.”
You softly cleared your own throat, taking your time to speak through the door. “Sorry, Chan,” you croaked. “Really tired. Couldn’t wait to knock out. Maybe I can help you out with whatever you need tomorrow?”
“Oh, nothing like that. You ran away—I mean off—so quickly you dropped your wallet in the car.”
“Oh. Okay, uh.” You opened the door, viewing his relieved smile stretched across his cheeks. “Thanks, Chan.”
He handed it to you, his gentle touch slipped past yours and the sensation tensed against your skin. “No problem. Oh hey, are you coming to the event tomorrow too? Should be fun.”
You shook your head. “Oh, no. I mean tonight was great, but I’m probably just gonna recharge tomorrow.”
He nodded agreeably. “Ok. Sounds good.”
“Mmh,” you lingered at the door a moment too long, unsure of what to say next. “Well, good night, Chan.”
He politely smiled. “Good night.”
The door closed, shutting out the outside world, peace—finally—in its wake. That’s what you thought anyway.
The reality was that the following day took forever to come when you could hardly sleep, finding it in you only when the sun was an hour from rising. Most of the morning was spent in bed, listening to the rustle behind the very thin walls. 
It was still the weekend but somehow the other people you lived with managed to keep themselves busy, probably because it was that much closer to Halloween. Even leaving your room, you see the house full of festivities from fake skeletons and sticky spiderwebs. They were nice to look at but not something you found a reason to go out for. 
And for once, it looks like you aren’t alone. You weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing yet.
“You didn’t go to the party?” you plainly pointed out.
Chan shrugged from down the stairs, flaunting his Ironman tee shirt and sweatpants. “Thought it wouldn’t be as fun without you.”
“Yeah,” You smiled amused coming down the steps, “because I’m the life of the party, right?”
He chuckled, complexion somehow glossy and radiant in the darkness of the stairwell. “Those guys can be a lot and you’re chill. It’s a nice change of pace.”
The silence in the house was deafening. Had it been any other day before yesterday, this would’ve been fine—civil even—but the back of your head told you things. Things you wanted to do him from front to back, head to toe, sideways, all of the above. Chan had this vice grip on you that escape didn't even seem like an option.
“So we’re just like, the only people at the sharehouse right now?”
“That alright?”
“…sure.”
You ended up sharing the common room together, pretending as if inner demons wasn’t grinding your gears. The first thirty minutes went up in silence and silent chuckles while Halloween Town played, a healthy distance in between you both. Even if you didn’t celebrate the holiday that much, you enjoyed the movies.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much of a better time are you having than yesterday?”
You waved your hands defensively, laughing. “It’s not like that.”
He scoffed, watching you from his peripheral. “You were sitting at the bar all night just watching. You must’ve been bored.”
“I had fun, it’s just…staying home is nice sometimes. Not so suffocating.”
“Like that car ride, maybe?”
You let out quiet laughs, crossing your arms. “Ha. A little bit Kind of a bumpy ride.”
He looked for signs of any discomfort, memories of the night prior flashing in his head including the weight of your body against his. “If I startled you last night, sorry.”
“No, not at all. Your lap is actually comfortable.” The realization hit you like a bus and suddenly you had flying saucers for eyes.
He smiled at your expression, pressing it into a thin line to suppress the laughter threatening to erupt. “Really? I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I didn’t—I slipped. You kept me from flying out of my seat and out the window, you know? I just say dumb shit. Ignore it.”
“Noted, but since you said it…having you sit in my lap was an experience I didn’t think I’d enjoy as much as I did.”
You stared at him for a while, a thousand and one things running through your mind, one being the theory that he didn’t seem to hate what he was put through either.
“You can go ahead and ignore that if you want.”
Then your hand landed on his, wrapping around his digits as you lifted off the couch and in front of him. He quietly watched you turn around with your back towards his and slowly drop into his lap. You familiarized yourself with their warmth, your legs softly parted to embrace both his sides. Turning your head, you met eyes in sultry ponder, anticipating his reaction.
“Like that?” You asked, feigning innocence.
He gazed up at you in soft wonder, lightly shifting in his seat and pressing his back into the couch. “Yeah…just like that.”
You hummed contentedly, stabling yourself against furniture. Naturally, desire took a form inside you and you found yourself putting your full weight against him, causing the tension of his muscles. “It’s a lot more comfortable than yesterday actually. Maybe because I can—“you coughed before you let the words leave your lips.
“Feel me through my pants?” He finished cheekily.
You softly chuckled. “No comment.” 
He matched your smile, teeth finding the flesh of his bottom lip and biting until he tasted metal. He cursed under his breath, hands finding purchase on your hips and ingraining your shape in every wrinkle of his brain. His moans vibrated against your skin, garnering every ounce of power in him to take things slow. These were the kinds of things meant to be savored.
Your body then moved like waves, crashing into him like a brewing storm. Your legs clamped around one of his thighs, rolling your heat at the girth of his leg and admiring the sensation of it flexing underneath you. Chan let out soft grunts, quietly expelling air through his nose. You mused back at him. “You like that? That feel good?”
He only moaned in response, to which you smiled. You let your back connect with his chest, grinding down his lap as the print of his cock hugged between your cheeks. “You’re so big, Chan…”
His hands ran over your thighs, finding the hem of your shorts before his fingers delicately hovered over your clothed arousal. He felt your breath hitch and he pressed a single digit before he dragged it through your covered folds. You moaned loudly in his ear—the TV not standing a chance of drowning it out—while your breath burned his skin and pebbled his skin. You spread your legs to give him more real estate, noticing already how the fluid layered on your inner thighs.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he purred, “how do you feel about taking these off?”
You swallowed. “Yes, please…”
He helped to lay you bare, touching you as his hips dug into the plush flesh of your ass. He only grew bigger under your touch all while you grew wet under his. Body and sweat fusing into one, your chest heaved as Chan’s fingers circled around your slit, squeezing clit between two digits.
Then he stopped himself, a thought popping ingeniously in his head, and he brought his hand up to your face, “Spit in my hand.” 
You looked back at it hesitantly, seeing the film of your remnants on every single finger. Nonetheless, you did as he requested, noting the size of the splatter. His hand went down to find you again, rubbing the moisture in until you were coated all over. His fingers hooked inside and stretched your walls to split you open. He made room to plunge deeper between your molten walls at a practiced pace. You mewled like a feral animal, coming apart with your legs occasionally elevating off him in defeat.
Your legs hooked on either side of his thighs, shaking. You felt his breath on your neck, teeth grazing the skin, voice indicating his focus on your pleasure and how it came to fruition. You were transfixed on his moment, seconds away from cumming, and you weren’t afraid to let him know. “I’m gonna, Mmh, Chan, I’m gonna cum…”
“Do it,” he breathed, shuddering, “I wanna feel you cum in my hand.”
You cried when it happened, falling back against him to the point he held your thighs against your chest. He slapped the back of your thigh every time you jumped, oh well, his fingers jackhammered you into submission. You bucked around them, squirming for release and Chan’s encouragement was more than enough motivation. “Cum for me, hmm…”
Your face grew hot, your legs weak as they bounced in his grip. You clenched around his fingers, stuttering your hips as your vision of light turned into shooting stars. “Yes, yes, shit!”
Chan pulled out of you to look at their milky sheen, practically dripping liquid gold before they entered his mouth. His tongue swept over every finger, sucking them like milk from a bottle. He pushed them in knuckles deep and noticeably his eyes rolled back in his skull in response. His moans deepened into praises, licking every drop until they were nearly squeaky clean. He glazed over you in contempt, mischief on his lips before smiling sweetly as if not a dark thought in his mind, although that was far from the truth.
“Bend over for me.”
You blinked back at him in a daze. “Huh?”
He pushed you until your hands reached the ground and he buried his face between your cheeks. His tongue lapping up your climax, the hug of your flesh around his face bringing him to enlightenment. That time you screamed, screamed loud enough that if anyone were here at home they’d hear but no it was just the two of you, so you screamed louder. Your hand planted against the wood boards, buzzing, moaning as you felt the wetness from his tongue circle around your folds to then taste what was in between. 
He sounded hungry. As If he hadn’t been let out of his cage until now. His hands spread you apart, the full length of his tongue fucking you stupid until you could taste ecstasy on your own tongue.
“The prettiest fucking pussy…” he sucked out every last drop as his thumb rubbed against your swollen clit, “I’ve ever fucking seen…”
Your heart was going at a million beats a minute. You felt tied to a post flinching in and out as he rutted you with his mouth. Sweat beading your already clammy body. Drool and cum running down your thighs. You convulsed around his tongue as tears brimmed in your eyes. “Chan, ngh, too much—fuck, you’re gonna make me explode—“
“Can’t,” he said between breaths. His fingerprints stained your flesh, gripping you so hard that he could see the marks he made into your flesh as he took you in rapid and needy strokes. “So good…you taste so fucking good…”
You whined helplessly, lifting your face from the ground. “Chan—oh fuck—please...”
Having you claw at the floor it wasn’t until he made you cum again that he’d stop, feeling you pulse around his tongue. A hearty moan escaped him tasting your climax in real time, savoring the release until what’s inside of his mouth was painted a solid white.
He came up to the surface with half his face covered in your arousal like a gold medal for the clean plate club, licking away whatever remained on his lips. He pulled you back up against him, resting against the sound drumming of his chest.
You took his clean hand, locking yours through it. You kissed his cheek, briefly tasting your salty tang. He glanced back at you, a soft gentle smile on his face before connecting your lips for the first time, the familiar taste now pungent and enticing from his lips. “You felt and tasted,” he added bashfully, laughing, “incredible. I hope you’re not too tired, I’d really like to know how it feels you riding me with my cock inside you.”
“We can have that arranged.”
1K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 13 days
Text
DOES HE KNOW ?
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18+ / mdi
summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.
content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.8k
a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
Something was clearly wrong with you.
Was Lee Chan hot?
Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.
You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.
For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).
After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.
"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.
"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.
"Wanna know a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.
You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.
Maybe he was drunk?
He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.
"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.
Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.
Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).
You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?
"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.
"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"
"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.
"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.
You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.
"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.
He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."
"He has a name, Soonyou-"
"None of us really care enough to learn it."
That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.
"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.
"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.
"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.
With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.
At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.
Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.
Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.
God damn you, Lee Chan.
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"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.
He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.
As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.
"Fuck off, Lee Chan."
With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.
"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.
You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.
Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.
Yet he wanted you. He was after you.
The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.
Yeah, you did need that second drink.
"Where's your guy?"
Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.
You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.
"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.
"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.
"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.
"And Channie?"
"What about him?"
"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.
Men, nosy as usual.
You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."
"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.
"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."
"But?"
You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"
"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."
"It's- I like the attention."
"And him?", he pressed.
"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.
Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."
"What is?"
"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."
"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.
"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"
"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.
"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."
"My guy's not here."
"I meant Channie, now go!"
You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.
It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.
Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.
You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.
You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.
"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."
Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.
"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.
The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.
"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"
The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.
But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.
It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.
And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.
The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.
"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."
"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.
It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.
"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"
Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.
"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.
"Chan-"
He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.
"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"
"It's not like that! I just-"
"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.
"Chan! I-"
"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.
"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.
Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.
"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."
"I do, and-"
"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.
"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.
"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.
You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.
"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.
You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.
"Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.
"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.
He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.
"What plan?"
"I'm wearing you down. You want me."
Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.
You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?
Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.
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"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"
Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.
You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.
"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.
While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.
"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.
"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"
He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.
"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.
Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.
It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.
Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.
Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.
As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.
~
The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.
You needed to get Chan out of your system.
You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.
Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.
Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.
Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.
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Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.
Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.
You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.
"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.
Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.
"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."
"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.
"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"
"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.
Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.
"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."
"Was it good?"
"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."
"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.
"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.
"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.
"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.
"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"
"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"
"Soonyoung!"
"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.
This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.
Chan had had sex dreams about you too?
I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.
Fuck.
Chan wanted to fuck you.
The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.
"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.
"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."
Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.
God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.
With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.
~
Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.
Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.
Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.
But imagination wasn't enough.
You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.
That's when you thought of the perfect thing.
Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.
No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.
"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"
This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.
"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.
Oh, Channie ...
He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.
You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.
"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."
It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.
"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.
The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.
You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.
Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.
And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.
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"We broke up."
Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.
This time Seokmin had decided to join.
"You what?"
"Because of Chan?"
"Really?!"
All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.
You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.
"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."
It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.
It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.
"Wow," aired Soonyoung.
"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.
"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.
"Does Channie know?"
"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.
"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"
Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"
"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.
"Wait! No, I-"
"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"
"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."
"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."
Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.
"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.
"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.
"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."
"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"
"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.
"I think it'd be hot."
"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.
Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"
Did you? Did you actually like Chan?
Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.
His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.
Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.
"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."
"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"
"No, it's just ..."
"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."
It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.
"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"
"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."
"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.
"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.
"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."
You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.
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Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.
It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.
Fuck, you missed him.
Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.
You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.
It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.
Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.
Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.
He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.
When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.
Yeah, you liked him.
You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.
You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.
But then he started speaking.
"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"
It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.
Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.
After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.
"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."
"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"
"had", you clarified, shy.
"what?"
"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."
"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"
His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.
"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."
Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.
"God, I'm so so sorry-"
"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."
"Y-you ...?"
"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."
He nodded, giving you the green light.
"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."
Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.
"What made you realize it?"
Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.
But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.
"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.
His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.
"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"
"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."
"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"
With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."
"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"
"Chan!"
"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.
"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."
Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.
"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"
"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."
A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.
"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.
Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.
His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.
Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.
But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.
"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."
Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."
He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.
Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.
Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.
He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."
"Channie ..."
"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.
Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.
Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.
"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.
"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."
And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.
Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.
You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.
Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.
"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.
"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.
"Fuck. I get to choose?"
You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.
Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.
"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."
That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.
"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."
"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."
His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.
"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.
Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.
The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.
Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.
"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.
There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.
Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.
Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.
"I love you."
Then the world stopped.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"
It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.
"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.
"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."
He made you laugh, as per usual.
You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.
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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.
wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.
Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.
The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.
It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.
After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.
Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.
Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.
It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.
The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.
It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.
Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.
It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.
Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.
Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.
...
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Text
Seventeen as dads part 2
Seventeen as Dads Part 1 Seventeen Masterlist
→Choi SeungCheol
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“Appa, are you hurt?” Siah gets on Seungcheols back as your husband laid on the couch. He just groans in response.
He had gotten drunk the night before and had a horrible hangover happening.
“Don’t worry, I’ll treat you” Siah, the older child says and rushed to her room to bring out her doctors kit.
Cheol manages to open his eyes, but his head still throbbing.
Siah walks into the living room with a toy stethoscope around her little neck and a toy injection in the other hand.
Cheol sees his baby bringing all her doctor toys to him and chuckles. “Are you here to take care of me doctor?”
“I will fix you” she says. “Where does it hurt?”
A smiling cheol points to his forehead. “Here doctor”
She takes the toy injection in the other hand and directly puts it on his forehead. This makes seungcheol laugh. “Thank you doctor, you’re so nice”
→Yoon Jeonghan
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“Catch it, catch it” Jeonghan pulls at the rod, with the fish flapping as soon as its out of water.
The fish accidentally slap your 4 year old son in the face. “It's slippery” he says trying his best to catch the fish. Everytime the fish is in his hands, the next second it slips out. You watch on the whole spectacle laughing.
After the boys are done catching 2 fish, your boys rushed to show you.
“Now we eat them” jeonghan says
Horror spread across the 4 year old boys face. He immediately starts whining as jeonghan laughs.
“We can’t eat them, theyre our friends!” The little one yells at his dad.
“Tell him!” He also yells at you to defend him as he cries.
“What do we eat then now? Aren’t you hungry?” Jeonghan asks him touching his sons belly.
“No!” The baby says with every conviction in him.
“What do we do with these fish?”
“Take them back home and raise them”
“They’re already dead”
This earns your husband a playful smack to his arm. “Don’t say that” as both of you try to stifle giggles.
→Hong Joshua
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“Happy Birthday Dojoonie” your husband, Joshua, wishes his elder son who turned 6 today.
Little did he know, he had a Surprise waiting for him outside in the yard.
"We have a surprise waiting for you outside" you tell him and his little legs rush to take him to the front yard.
"No way" He screams in excitement.
It was a toy car that he could drive.
"Hey, Hey, mister, safe driving only" you say as he gets on the car.
He drives exactly like Joshua. You giggle at that. "He has the same driving face as you" you say to Joshua looking at your son driving away.
"I don't have a driving face" he defends.
"You do!" and you mimic the face he makes while he concentrates on driving.
"He's learning everything from me" Joshua exclaims.
"Im glad, you're a wonderful man Joshua"
"Thank you for saying that, darling" he says wrapping his hand around your torso while you look at your son not braking in time and crashing.
"And thats a crash" you say and both of you rush to him to do damage control.
→Wen JunHui
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"It won't hurt, I promise"
Your son is wailing and hiccuping through his sobs, he is terrified of his tooth falling. It's his first milk tooth and that tooth has been dangling for 2 weeks now.
He has a birthday party to attend and he wants to eat everything and anything but the tooth won't let him. So Jun came up with a solid idea of pulling it out himself. As much as I am against it, you kid really wants it taken out but is also scared of it.
"See, we're going to tie this tooth to this floss and the other end to the door handle okay? then you can push the door shut when you're ready, the tooth will fall out" your husband calmly explains.
The boy looks terrified.
"It won't hurt, promise" he says.
Your son holds your hand tight as Jun ties the floss to the door.
"3" his grip on your hand tightens.
"2" his jaw clenches.
"1"
your son kicks the door and the tooth comes out in one swift motion. Your son is ecstatic as he rushed to your side to hug you.
"I did it mama"
"You did, my sweet boy, now you can eat all the hard candies you want at Dojoon's birthday!" you say and he smiles at you front tooth missing, You giggle at his missing tooth.
"What about daddy, I did all the heavy lifting" Jun sulks.
→Kwon Hoshi
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Your son jiho has been climbing everything he can reach, he's at that age where his feet are faster than his body. This time he was climbing the kitchen counter making steps out of the drawers. Its dangerous.
"soonyoung, he's been climbing everything, we need to change in child safety on the drawers, it's all broken now"
"I'll get them on the way back from work tomorrow"
Soonyoung sits in front of Jiho with a tiger soft toy, Jiho's favourite.
Soonyoung pretends to voice the tiger and starts talking to jiho.
"Jiho, its me, your favourite tiger, your dad can't hear us"
This snaps Jiho's attention to the tiger. He smiles at the tiger and says the cutest hi.
"Your dad told me you've been climbing chairs and drawers, you shouldn't do that, it is dangerous"
"dangers?"
"yes, dangerous, you could fall and give yourself a ouchie then the doctor will give you an injection"
"no injection"
"You shouldn't climb"
"I'll go now" soonyoung says to jiho in the tiger voice.
"Tiger told me not to climb" he tells his dad immediately.
"It speaks?"
"Only I can hear him, he's my best friend that's why"
"Is that so?"
"Yes"
→Jeon Wonwoo
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"Daddy its torn, its torn" your 4 year old comes to you and your husband in the living room talking about his day.
"What's torn honey?" you ask looking down at her. Your daughter holds up Ms. Kiki.
Your sweet sweet baby girl, Min ju, had this one teddy bear she carried around everywhere. Ms. Kiki. It was her emotional support soft toy. She'd bring it to trips, to restaurants and even to the doctors, where she needed it the most.
"Ms. Kiki" she was bawling her eyes out. Wonwoo takes her in his lap. You inspect the tear, it was just a tear on the stitch, a few hand stitches should do the trick.
"Can I do it after I come back?" you had to head out to a meeting in some time.
she starts to whine a little again.
"Daddy will do it" wonwoo chimes and she becomes happy again.
"Ill fetch you the sewing kit, just stitch it here," you tell him showing him where.
The father daughter duo sit side by side, as Minju waits for her dad to sew it slowly.
he pricks himself with the needle the first try and hisses.
"Does it hurt daddy?" Min ju asks.
"Not it doesn't its a pinch" he says and continues sewing while you change into your work clothes.
"After 5 minutes he was done. "Tada!" wonwoo holds up the bear to minju, she was ecstatic.
You were ready to go and stopped by wonwoo to see what he did, and he did a pretty good job.
"Good job!" you praise him.
"Daddy is the bear doctor"
"Bear doctor sounds like a great title"
→Lee Jihoon
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You had come to visit Woozi's studio with your 3 year old Daughter Jia, Jihoon wanted to show her his new studio with a lot of lights, he thought the baby would enjoy it.
The light projecting stars and colourful galaxies, he called it the universe factory. Quite a cute name. He was the hottest looking man when he was in his studio focusing and working. One of the reasons you fell for him.
"So? How do you like it?" he asks.
"It looks beautiful, it's so pretty" looking up in wonder.
Your baby, Jia also is looking up adoring the roof and pointing to the stars she sees.
"Stars!"
"So pretty" your child mumbles.
Your daughter now was in his lap, pushing all buttons possible and some beats and sound start to come out of the speakers. Almost like she was making music herself.
"She seems like a natural" he says to her and takes her off the keys before she deletes important files.
"A few years, she'll come for your job Mr. producer"
→Lee Dokyeom
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"It's mommy birthday so we're going to bake a cake, but you have to promise me princess you're not going to eat the cake before that" Dokyeom sternly but the 2 year old babbling baby only looks up to see her boba eyes staring at him.
"You're too cute to scold" he says and starts making the cake.
Midway through the icing, Dokyeom was too focus on making the icing, he didn't realise the other side of the icing on the cake was getting eaten, little by little.
Your daughter's little fingers had swiped away at the icing one by one making a big icing mine in the cake. The back of the cake was eaten and ruined, but Dokyeom could not get angry at her. She looked too cute with icing all over her face.
"Here's a strawberry" Dokyeom tells her and hands her a strawberry to eat while he tries to save the cake.
"Finally done, you think mom would like it?" Dokyeom holds the cake to his toddler. "mmh" she hums to the strawberry she had in hand.
You had just returned from a long day of work, all you wanted was to cuddle your two main babies and go to sleep.
You come back to a dark living room and a startling noise.
"Surprise! Happy Birthday Baby!" Dokyeom says with your precious daughter in his arms and a strawberry cake.
"What's with the cake?" you ask looking up at him, then realising your little princess probably ate while making it.
Her hands held a half eaten strawberry as you take her from your husband and shower her with kisses.
"What about me!" Dokyeom sulks and you shower him with kisses too.
"Best Birthday ever"
→Kim Mingyu
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Bora haas been wanting a make up set like you have for ages. Mingyu promised to get her a kids make up set on the way back from work today, and he did.
Bora was so excited she started to jump around the living room.
It was a cute toy, with a mirror and brushes and everything. You just hoped it's goes okay on her skin and doesn't damage it.
"Thank you! Thank you!" her little frame hugs Mingyu.
She opens the kit and gets everything out.
"Appa, do you want to be the first customer of my salon?" she says.
He pretends to be a customer. "Hello, I would like a make over please" he says in a fake customer voice that makes your daughter giggle.
She happily obliges and puts this towel in his collar for his shirt. Quite thoughtful.
Bora roughly brushes over his face with some powder from the kit, being careful with it ends up going into mingyu's mouth and he blows raspberries to get it out.
"What kind of a salon is this?" he says giggling. Bora only laughs.
She finishes her masterpiece with a lipstick on her dad's face. a little over drawn but cute nevertheless.
"Tada!" she says as she holds up the mirror to his face.
"Do you feel beautiful daddy?"
"I feel so beautiful baby" he says and Bora runs to her room to bring one of her play wigs to put on her dad's head.
It was a golden bright wig with pigtails to complete the look.
You sneakily take a picture on your phone as you laugh.
Bora laughs too. "Daddy you look like a clown"
This comment makes you laugh even more coming from your daughter.
"Let's go mommy next!" Mingyu suggests with playful evil eyes and you almost run away before mingyu could catch you.
→Xu Minghao
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"Daddy, it's tea time, cmon! cmon!" your younger daughter grabs your husbands hand and drags him to her room.
"Why am I not invited?" you pout.
"it's only for daddy"
She's seen Minghao do his tea ceremony often. He stopped a while before, but once your daughter was born, Minghao and your daughter started play dates where they would pretend to drink tea, you found it cute.
"How is daycare?"
"No one likes to play tea party" she complains as you watch this interaction.
The little girl pours the 'tea' its just water, into the her father's cup and her cup.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure, but I have you to play with me"
"You do, I'll play tea party with you all day" Minghao says picking up the cup and putting it to his lips.
"Appa, stick your little finger out, like this" she says and demonstrates.
"Ah yes, how can I forget" he says and does as told.
Your daughter really had him wrapped around her little finger. It was adorable to watch.
→Boo Seungkwan
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"Stand here and shoot" seungkwan tells your 7 yer old son.
You were at the basketball court where seungkwan was teaching your son, Channie.
"Shoot, don't get on your toes" he yells at him from the sideline.
He finally makes a score and you cheer. Seungkwan looks very satisfied with himself.
"Let's do a mother son vs dad" you suggest and run into the court to start a match.
"Oh its on"
You jump on seungkwans back while his guard is down and, it becomes difficult for him to steal the ball from Chan and Chan scores. You put both your hands up in the air in celebration.
"Your dad's not that great at this after all" you say sassily to your husband kissing his cheek from the back.
"we'll see, we'll see, get off me! no cheating this time" he warns with a playful smile.
"We'll try"
This time you decide to take both his hands in yours and literally pull him away from the court while your son attempts to score. He misses twice and Seungkwan pretends to escape to save the ball.
Chan finally scores and seungkwan doesn't let your hand go though.
"We won!" you exclaim in your husbands face.
"Come here sneaky" he says wrapping his hands around your waist, not letting you go.
"You're not going to score this time" he says and throws you over his shoulder and grabs your son by the torso holding him with his arm.
It was all laughs and giggles.
→Choi Vernon
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"AAH" you hear a shriek coming from the living room. It was your husband Vernon, running to the bedroom to you.
"There's a bug on the wall, bug on the wall"
You can deal with smaller bugs, so you walk out confidently, assuming it's a smaller bug, but it was indeed a big bug.
Your 4 year old Derek, had come out of his room hearing the shriek.
"It's a bug?" he asks, while you hold a container to catch the bug and Vernon hiding behind you, neither of you taking any action to actually catch the bug.
"Derek will catch it for you" your son says in third person and bravely goes to the bug, climbing the couch to for his little hands to get to it.
"Are you sure he's my son?"
"What do you mean? Of course he's your son!" you exclaim.
You see Derek picking up the bug by its wings and asking you to stretch the container, you outstretch your hand with the container as far as you could. The bug really gave you the ice and made your body shudder.
"Done! Here's your new home bug!" Your 4 year old talks to the bug that's now in the container.
You and Vernon share a look.
"Aw my baby, protects me from bugs" you pat Dereks back.
"That was nothing" he boasts, trying to impress his mom.
Lee Chan
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"What do you think?" you husband, Chan, had just shared with you the most evil plan to prank your daughter. He wanted you in on it.
"She's going to cry" you warn him.
"It's a prank, we'll teach her to be a good sport" he justifies.
"You father daughter do what you want" you let it go. You eerily sound like what your mom used to say and that makes you chuckle internally.
"Okay, I'm gonna go hide it all"
The living room was a mess with all of Yu Na toys as she played in the living room.
"Yu Na" her father appears from the bedroom, "I have to tell you something"
Yu Na thinks its batch time and start whining, she hates bath time.
"It's something else" Chan clears and she calms down.
"Appa was hungry, so Appa ate something that was Yu Na's" he starts.
"My chocolate cake?" she asks in her little voice.
"There's chocolate cake in the fridge?" he looks surprised.
"Yeah, Uncle Dokyeom brought it yesterday"
"Ah, did he? I didn't eat that"
"What did you eat?"
"I ate all your halloween candy"
She looked like she was about to cry, her lips even turned downward. but what came out of her mouth was so precious.
"You were hungry?"
"Yes baby, I was"
"It's okay because you were hungry. You are supposed to eat when you're hungry and I love you so it's okay"
Chan and you were stunned to hear that. She hugs Chan and you give him a heartfelt look.
"This prank turned out wholesome" he says to you.
"Daddy didn't eat all your candies, we were just joking" you explain to your child.
"Just joking?"
"Yeah, we can have some after dinner" the little girl leapt in excitement and ran into the kitchen.
"We're raising the sweetest girl"
"All thanks to you, my love" he takes your hand and you smile at him.
____
I've been writing this ALL day, this is like 13 fics, I had so much fun though.
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beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months
Text
Judas in the Window (18+)
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pairing: priest(apprentice)!chan x fem!collegestudent!reader
genre: ANGST ANGST and smut (mdni), childhood best friends to..?
description: you return home from college, after not seeing your old town for three years. your childhood best friend has been waiting for you.
warnings: no. genuinely so sad. religious guilt, blasphemy ig, slutshaming, degradation (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), desperation, fingering (f. receiving), humiliation, unprotected sex (do not do this shit), brief breeding kink, mentions of past unhappiness, reader has beef with her old self fr, alcohol consumption, pet names (darling, baby, some more i dont recall), LOTS of biblical references, i warned you this is incredibly sad and wether it's a good ending is certainly debatable, reader has both her parents (if u dont, same, just imagine the dad as adam sandler and the mom as gwendoline christie), the dad is the best character x
quotes from my proofreader: "i have a new pair of panties at the ready", "im horny and angry, some say hangry", "AAAAAA"
wordcount: 8.3k
a/n: it is 2:30 am. my proofreader is asleep and i might go crazy if i dont post this now, so if there are any mistakes in the last part i am sorry, ill fix it later lmao
Your room hasn’t changed a bit.
You’re not sure why the sight knocks the wind out of you. You suppose you’d thought your parents might do something with it - maybe give your dad a “man cave” or whatever other pained, heteronormative solution to hating each other. But it’s the same exact thing. Your bed, horrible orange wood, pink princess sheets, and your desk right beside you where you stand in the doorway, all cluttered with glitter pens and marker sets and a small mirror. 
“Isn’t this great, honey?” your mom squeals, old hands squeezing your shoulders. It takes you a second to reply. You’re not even sure you want to step inside the room. “Yeah, yeah, it’s great, mom.” 
“I’m getting dinner ready, you just settle yourself in!” she says, practically vibrating at your presence. She’s so happy, it jabs at your stomach with guilt, that you can’t even bring yourself to enter. You watch her disappear down the stairs, making a funny face when she catches your eye. You half-smile tiredly. Then you’re looking at it again.
It’s like a totally closed off time capsule. Your fingers play with the doorframe, looking at the stains in the carpet, that you vividly remember creating as a clumsy child. You see the stickers on your closet-door, and the faint outline of the stickers you’d taken down. You see toys, whose names you remember, you see terrible drawings over your bed, hung with glitter tape, and you see yourself. The you that you were certain you’d stuck in the dirt and buried. The one you’d worked over-over-overtime to never see again. She was somehow alive and well in this room. A part of you roamed with a horde of anxiety, birthed by the thought that once you entered, you and her would fuse together, and all the flaws you’d had would be reignited, and you would be miserable again.
“You not going in, champ?” you jump at your father’s voice behind you. You turn to see him exiting your parents’ bedroom, taking heavy, loggy steps towards the staircase. You shake your head: “No, I am, it’s just..” you pause and turn back to the room, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird.” 
Your father pauses. He has his reading glasses pushed all the way down to the tip of his nose, so he leans his head back and squints to study you. “Well- well- well, why don’t you just try out for a bit, champ, and if you don’t like it, Uh, well, we’ll situate you on the couch. How’s- how’s that sound?” 
You smile softly. “Sure.” 
“Alright, champ,” he pats your back and finally starts his descent down the stairs. 
You nod to yourself and exhale deeply, face now turned back to the super menacing not-at-all-menacing room before you. Your fears are deeply irrational. You wouldn’t just revert back to your old self. Once you’re half believing it, you finally break the barrier, and take a step inside. 
It’s not so bad after all. Everything is very still. Dust kicked up from your presence slows down around you. You’re standing under the overhead lamp, and it’s not that bad. Not so bad. You drop your duffel bag and sit down on your bed. 
You feel a lot bigger, sitting with bent knees in the plush duvet. You recognize that you can’t be that much bigger than when you last sat here, 18 years old, heading off to college in the big city. And this was the kind of town where neighbors a dozen houses over came to see you off, waving at you with big smiles on their faces, an american flag hoisted up to the blue sky. You remember the grins stretched on their faces, and how you’d been panicked to start the ignition on the car. They’d looked like they were made of wax.
Movement flashes in your peripheral. You turn your head, brushing hair out of the way. The movement is coming from the crack in the curtains. Like Moses parting the red sea, your fingers delicately brush the flimsy fabrics away. You know exactly what - who - you’re about to see. Your heart presses, red and wet, into your throat. 
Chan.
He’s there in the window directly across from yours. You almost don’t recognize him at first. He’s shirtless, pacing around and picking things off the floor, and, God, he’d gotten so big. His arms are so shapely and firm and his stomach is toned and when he turns his back to you, you see how it ripples with muscle, and your mouth is drooping open in shock. 
This is Chan, you try to remember (memories flit of him in his dad’s baseball caps, him on the playground, or on the sandy paths that fade out from the roads on the outskirts of town), but grounding yourself in the memories of him as a kid only serves to hurt you. No, you decide, eyeing his naked torso through the glass, better remember him like this. Like an adult who has faults and wrongs, not an innocent child that you abandon in your haste to grow up. 
He’s looking at you. Suddenly, he’s fucking looking at you. For a moment it seems like he’s confused, maybe fighting with the danger of recognizing you as a real, actual person in the window. Then his eyes are softened and he’s hunched over the paneled window, face split in half as he stares back at you. He used to fit so easily in the frame of that window - now you watch his shoulders press against the framework, unable to squeeze in. 
Your cheeks are burning when you squeeze your eyes shut and smile apologetically. Your childhood best friend who you hadn’t seen in three years had just caught you staring at his fucking abs through his window. You fear he’ll take offense, especially considering how you’d left things off with him, but when you open your eyes, he’s grinning softly and shaking his head. 
He walks away from the small window, and you take this as your cue to leave as well. You fall back on the bed and groan pathetically, body jittery with embarrassment. 
“Y/n, sweetheart! Dinner now!” your mom caws from the floor beneath you and you feel 16 again. This was what you didn’t want. All the power you had accumulated was slipping through your fingers by the minute. 
It’s just five days, you remind yourself. Just five, measly days.
“Coming, mom!”  _____________________________
The fucking bell tower is going. Over and over again and it shouldn’t be this loud, you’re not that close to the church, but it is. 
You lie flat on your back in the smoldering dark, completely still. It’s so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside your head. Like the curved, rusted sides of it are bashing against your skull. You don’t understand how anyone could sleep through this. You don’t understand how Chan could stay here all these years. Maybe that’s just because you couldn’t see yourself here.
You don’t want to think about Chan anymore, but for whatever reason - you can’t decide if it was seeing him (so manly) so suddenly, or if it’s the ever-ringing bell in the distance, like a marker of the apocalypse - he won’t leave your mind tonight. Part of you understood that what had happened with you and Chan was natural, and not particularly anyone’s fault. So why did you still carry the heavy burden of guilt? Guilt that pinched at your nerve endings like the delicate tunes in a children’s music box.
You and Chan had met as children in church. It didn’t take long for you to be best friends. You’d sit next to each other on the neatly lined benches during sermon, then you’d tumble in the grass outside, and then you’d go to his house and play until dinner, after which you’d see each other again, talking from window to window. You spent very nearly every moment with him.
Then you grew apart.
It was a slow death. Seeing each other became a sort of horrific reminder that it was ending, no longer bound by church or friendship, but a mutual understanding. There’d be a sort of solemn silence whenever you locked eyes. Is this the last time? You’d wonder, and the longer it went on, the more you started to wish that it was.
And then it was. 
It was your fault. You were 13 and suddenly you were wearing makeup and your dresses were getting shorter, and you wished you were much older than you were. You started forgetting the principles they’d taught you in church. Or maybe you’d never really learnt it, only tolerated it for Chan. But years passed and by the time you were sixteen, you were being kissed and groped at parties and you were having sex in cars and smearing your lipstick on the rims of shot glasses. 
And Chan was.. Well, Chan. Chan was a skinny, virgin christian. And you liked him, but suddenly there wasn’t much to talk about. From one day to the next, all discussable topics evaporated in your hand, and talking to Chan became a stumbling, bumbling mess. 
After that you were just…. Gone. 18 years old disappearing down the dirt roads in the 2009 Toyota Tacoma, that you’d gotten for your sweet sixteen. Chan was standing on the roadside that day, but he wasn’t sure you saw him. Your wheels kicked up dust and that was all you left behind. A cloud of sand for him to grab at, looking lost in between your tire tracks. At that moment it felt like those last years were two seconds. You just slipped right out of his hands. 
Lying in bed and your heart is so heavy. Maybe it isn’t Chan, you conclude. Maybe it’s what he represented. The face of the church; the face of goodness, of purity; the face of the life you deselected. 
The cry of the bell tower becomes a song in the night. You fall asleep in the devil’s hour. _____________________________
The following day you’re reexploring. The air is dry and the sun beating down on your shoulders. You’re walking through the suburbs and then later the small town square made up of mostly parking lots. You feel peregrine, but trudging through on the pavement, it becomes clear you’re the only one who feels this way. 
Every citizen, every single one of them - in polos, in flower-print dresses, in sandals, in sunglasses - stops you to welcome you back home. They’re shaking your shoulders and they recognize you and can tell you your name and your age, and they say that it’s good you found your way back. Every interaction leaves you more depressed than the last. You’re ducking your head, crumpled up like an unsent love letter. 
Your steps are heavy, your own sandals dragging into the uneven tiles of the square. Then you’re lifting your head from the ground, and your feet have betrayed you. 
You’re standing in the opening to another street of storefronts, and 5 rows of neatly planted trees down, the church sprouts from the earth like a stake. 
It’s not just any small town church. A few steps lead up to a plateau, supported by large, white beams. They may not be Roman, but they’re there, and they’re made of smooth concrete. The building itself is made of red brick, although the color varies and looks dappled. Each side of the church has two stained glass windows, which you remember from your childhood. The door, huge and oaken, ends in a point right beneath a round window, and the bell tower shoots up, a mighty cross at its peak. 
You’re left a little breathless at it. You don’t remember it being so menacing. But there’s also something beautiful about it. How it looks at you like it’ll kill you. And how blunt it is about it. You’re blinking at it and wondering how you got here. It’s as if something’s possessed you, because despite knowing better, you begin to take calm steps towards it, eyes transfixed and soulless. 
You’re walking into the courtyard, gravel underfoot, and then you’re traversing up the steps, fingers barely brushing over the railing. Idling forward, you’re opening the door. 
“And when Mary birthed the-” 
Crrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak!
Every head snaps towards you, as you’re cracking the door open, and the trance lifts from you. Oh, shit. Your gaze grazes over the stacked benches, smiling apologetically and bopping your head.
You clear your throat. “I’m-” 
You lock eyes with the priest, whose service you just interrupted, where he’s standing before the crowd, bible in hand.
It’s Chan. 
“I’m sorry,” you squeak, voice now much meeker, and you don’t even know what to do, so you just step inside and sit down on the nearest bench. Slowly (and with low scoffs) the sea of heads turn around. One pair of eyes don’t leave you though. Chan studies you for several seconds longer, searching for something in your eyes, but you’re looking away. You just want him to continue. He does.
This is crazy, you think, and you can hardly believe you’re hearing his voice say those words, and it’s him in the clerical shirt. You supposed it made sense. You supposed you understood. But actually you didn’t, not at all. Not when he was supposed to live and change and evolve and here he is years later, dedicating his life to the one and only thing he knows! 
You’re tuning out the rest of his talk, vaguely aware of how his eyes flit over to you a little too frequently. Soon enough you’re absently clasping your hands together in a prayer and then people are lining up to thank Chan for his stellar service. 
You watch them from your seat, debating whether or not to leave without talking to him. Leaving wasn’t a bad idea. You were only gonna be in town for a week more, surely, you could avoid him until then. 
But you know you won’t do that. You want to talk to Chan. You want to feel his hand in your own. Partially you felt like maybe you could save him from just being a decoration to this hellscape for the rest of his life. You’re not sure you could go on living your life, when you know he’s just back here - still here. 
So there you are, planted in the line and hoping to save him from some dull future, and he’s shaking hands and smiling, but you can see how he eyes you, coming up on the line. 
“Thank you, Chan,” you smile warmly, and his hand is grabbing yours and it’s so soft and so big. He’s smiling too. Then you’re coughing and correcting yourself: “Uh- Father. Chan.” 
He laughs at your sputtering, clapping your hand between his two: “Oh, thank you, sister.” Emphasizing with pursed lips and wide eyes. You laugh along a little, but it’s strained. 
His smile fades slowly, and his face relaxes. He wants to say more. His fingers are still pulling your hand to his, and you just keep shaking it, because if you stop, it’ll be weird. Officially. 
“Oh, do you two know each other?” A bobbed woman from behind you in line is purring, unfamiliar hand on your back, and she doesn’t wait for you to answer before she’s talking again: “So, how do you know each other?” 
“Childhood. Friends,” Chan stammers, almost looking at you for confirmation, and you’re nodding along when the woman “ah’s” and “ooh’s”. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you guys!” And then you’re listening to her talk about some trailer down in Cassandra, and how her brother is fixing it up with his old friend, but there’s water damage in the lining of the room, and it’ll mold if they’re not careful, and it’s such useless information, you’re wondering how you’ll ever forget it. 
“Mrs. Lark, uh, I think my,” he looks at you, lips pursed, “my friend here needs to go, so..” 
Mrs. Lark gasps, embarrassed: “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m babbling,” and usually Chan would reassure her that she wasn’t, but he has more urgent matters on his hands. “Good day, Mrs. Lark!” he says and sends her off with a bright smile. There’s a few more people in line and Chan sighs a little. 
“Can you-” he’s a little sheepish, suddenly self conscious about the clergy shirt that grips his neck, “Can you wait? Here? Just until I’m done-” 
“Yeah,” you say. He smiles gratefully. 
Chatter continues behind you with a slight echo in the large room. You wait by one of the stained glass windows, arms around yourself as you stare up at it. Each and every window was a different biblical figure, made up of small shards of colored glass. You always found it strange, looking back, how your small town church had this grand artwork. The eyes of the window peer down at you.
“Judas,” Chan comments, planting himself beside you. His voice echoes slightly in the now empty church. The whole place is both too big and too small for the both of you. “It’s an interesting choice.” 
“What?” 
“Why you chose this window over any other,” Chan breathes, eyes darting down to you, and he’s looking at you very intensely. Then, it dissipates: “I’m also drawn to this one.” 
A pause.
“I wonder why they’d make this,” you quip, feeling small beside him. “I think whoever made this wanted all sides of Jesus’ story illustrated,” Chan says. You shrug. “If it were me, I wouldn’t.” 
Chan tilts his head to the side and looks at you again. Your cheeks burn, so you smile a little cheekily. “Was that not the right thing to say?” 
Chan’s smile is gentle and bemused - almost adoring. “There’s nothing you can say in here that is wrong.” 
“I don’t think that’s true,” you laugh and Chan follows along. “Oh, you don’t?” You’re both laughing together, glee filling the crevices of the holy place, while Judas eyes you from the window. Your laughter dies down again, and when the silence returns, your heart clenches nervously. There’s a beat. 
“You keep busy?” you ask and the two of you are now facing each other. He sighs and nods, looking around. “Yeah, yeah, I got a.. Like a church get-together thing in, like, two days. I’ll be.. Preaching."
“Preaching,” you repeat, smile a little too tight. You wish you could say he didn’t notice. “Big Mr. Priest..” 
He laughs: “Technically I’m a priest apprentice,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. You roll your eyes. “So humble.” 
“What about you? Keep busy?” 
“Yeah, college,” you sigh. “You done?” he asks and you shake your head. “I wish.” 
His expression softens until he’s frowning. You want to squirm under his gaze, only because he looks so sincere and worried and you haven’t seen each other in three years. “You look tired.” 
“That’s not-” you begin, covering the slight ache in your heart with a laugh, “I just- Couldn’t sleep last night.”
“I thought living in the big city had you sleeping like a rock when you got to our quiet town,” he teases with a half-smile.
You shake your head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “It was that bell tower, just ringing, all night.” You shrug. Chan’s brows furrow and he looks up as well, as if he’d be able to see it through the tile roof. 
“The…” he trails off, sounding lost, “The bell tower doesn’t ring at nig-” 
Beep! Beep!
“Shit- sorry!” you curse, when your phone goes off loudly. Chan stands still studying you, while you squint at your phone. “I think- I think I gotta go.” 
“Uh, yeah, sure,” he coughs, index finger rubbing over his taut knuckles. You’re pushing your phone into your back pocket again, when he reaches an arm out to you. “Uh-” he pulls back self-consciously, “Would you want to-.. Maybe, come to dinner at my place? Tomorrow?” 
You’re a little taken aback, looking at him with a softly open mouth for a moment. “Uh,” you fight back a wide smile, “Yeah, sure. I’d- I’d like that.” 
“Great,” Chan smiles too and nods. “Just- just at the house right next door, or?-”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s that one. Still,” Chan blushes breathlessly. You chuckle awkwardly. “Okay.” 
“Okay. See you then.”  _____________________________
You’re not sure why the prospect of having dinner with Chan has you so nervous. And it is just a dinner, you remind yourself, as you’re picking out your dress, just two friends catching up. After some 45 minute debate you pick out a pretty sundress.
You’d like to think there’s more to it than just the fact that Chan is suddenly very pretty and muscular. Maybe it’s the chance to make a wrong right. Maybe it’s to find out who this boy is, that was a key part of your life for so many years. Maybe you think you can change him.
Either way you’re just waiting for it all day, ignoring your dad trying to lure you out with trick shots from your garage. “HIYA!” he screams, throwing ping pong balls at your window all afternoon.
At 6:30 PM you’re standing at his door and hoping you don’t look too dolled up. His house also looks mostly identical to your memory of it. There’s something off about it though, and you study it momentarily, only to realize the front garden has overgrown. The grass comes up jagged and sharp, and the bushes bulge over the fence gate, brushing you when you waddle inside. You click the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then begin to suspect that it didn’t work. Then you knock and you hear him fumbling around inside: “Coming!” 
He opens the door (with some struggle), and then you’re standing before each other. He’s so domestic, in a striped, brown sweater and dark blue jeans, and curly hair is framing his face like a crown. 
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
He gives you a once over, smiling shyly: “You look great.” 
“Thank you,” you bow a little, “you too.” 
Then he’s letting you inside and you’re kicking off your shoes haphazardly, while he fusses back to the kitchen. “I made bolognese, if you don’t mind!” he calls and when you enter into the living space, he’s stirring a pan vigorously. You giggle a little, smile falling at the sight of a cross on the wall behind you. “Uh, yeah, of course.” 
Slurping tomato-sauced pasta and drinking a half-expensive wine that Chan had bought, you two laugh together. You mostly talk about when you were kids, then he’s talking about joining the church and you’re talking about college. 
“Is it hard? Out there?” Chan slurs a little, both of you tipsy and warm from the wine, having moved to the couch after eating. Now, full and face burning hot, you’re looking at each other differently. Chan’s got one arm on the couch rest, the other swirling the wine in his glass. He’s smirking a little and you hate how hot he is.
“It’s.. Exciting,” you counter, a little confused at his tone. He's close enough to radiate warmth onto you, when his eyes dip down to your lips for a second. “Yeah. You like exciting,” he drinks down the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the couch table. The moon, that’s been slowly traversing the star-speckled sky, gives the glass a faint halo. Chan basks in the moonlight, half lit and half shadowed. 
“I do. I do like exciting,” you giggle dumbly, still unsure where he’s steering the conversation. Chan smiles adoringly, because there you are sitting all blushing and warm in a sundress on his couch. The warmth disappears from his eyes then. 
“Was it exciting to watch me undress?” 
Oh.
Shit. 
You almost spit out a half-drunken sip of wine, gulping it down painfully and shaking your head. You set the glass down. “Chan! I’m-” you’re scrambling, “I’m really, really sorry. I- I was just- It wasn’t about your body, I was thinking about-” 
“Shut up.” 
Your mouth falls agape at his tone, offended and caught off guard. He’s still beside you, eyes much sharper than you remember, much colder. “Stop treating me like I’m still a kid.” 
“Well, you haven’t changed much, Chan,” you scoff. 
“Yeah, that’s why you were looking at me through your fucking window,” he scoffs as well, “because I haven’t changed.” 
You sit in quiet disbelief, trying to stay mad when his face is so pretty and so close to yours, and his jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed from the wine. You’re deciding whether to spit back or diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” 
The hand that was previously holding his glass lands on your knee. He leans in even further and you smell the sour air of wine on his breath. You shudder under his touch when he whispers: “I want you to be honest with me.” 
You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, heart beating in your chest like nails being knocked into wood. “Tell me what you want from Father Chan,” he muses, smirking slightly, while his thumb brushes back and forth on your knee. 
You’re completely out of breath and squeezing your thighs together, as slick begins to build up in your panties. “Come on,” he encourages, “Let it out. Tell Channie what you want.” 
“I want,” you’re shaking in humiliation, gaze cast onto the floor, “I want you to touch me.” 
“Come again?” he teases, grinning.
“Please touch me, Chan.” 
“There you go,” he mutters and finally gives in, hand brushing the skirt of your dress up your thighs, until your white, cotton panties are visible to him. The sight of you is so pornographic, he groans and dips his head into your neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby.” 
And you do, one of them drooping over his legs, while the other bends on the couch beside you. You’re already so worked up, because Chan is so beautiful and you never, ever thought you’d experience him like this. “Shh, shh, calm down, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple, as his fingers brush over your clothed core.
“Baby,” he tuts disapprovingly, “you’ve soaked through your panties.” 
You can only whine as his fingertips ghost along your dripping slit, and he’s nosing into your cheek like a big puppy. “‘M sorry,” you hiccup, and he grins and kisses your lips tenderly. “So polite for me.” 
He finally dips his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing circles into your pussy. You’re mewling and thrashing into his chest, basking in the sound of his strangled moan, when you thrash the leg in his lap and brush over his hard cock. 
His fingers move lower to dance along your slit and you grab his wrist strenuously. He hums a little. “Gonna put my fingers in your pussy and my tongue in your mouth now,” he’s mumbling and you can’t tell if he’s telling you or himself, but either way he does as promised, two fingers plunging into your sopping wet heat, while he dips his tongue in your hot mouth.
You're moaning into his lips. He’s kissing you so sloppily, spit spilling down both of your chins, and noses rubbing together, breathing scorching air into each other. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, then curling into that sweet spongy spot inside you. 
“Fuck!” you cry when he pulls away breathlessly, “so, so, so good. Chan- Chan, fuck!”
Your orgasm is building up in your stomach, with a pleasure that is simultaneously torturous. He’s looking at you so intensely, you feel like you might unravel under his gaze. “Fuck, Channie.”
“Yeah? You feel good?” he pauses his words, still curling his fingers in and out of you. His next words are somewhat uneasy: “Is this better than those other guys?” 
“Huh?” you mumble, chest arching and his mouth is watering at how inviting it is. “Back then,” he says, and it finally clicks what he’s talking about. 
“Pussy so good no wonder they all wanted a piece of you, hm? Such a slut,” he’s rambling now, fingers plunging in and out of you impossibly fast, while his other hand splays over your stomach, thumb tapping your clit. You cry out in ecstasy, unable to form coherent words to respond with.
“But you’re my slut, right?” His voice is raspy and right next to your ear. The thumb tapping your clit begins to rub circles into it. “Y/n,” he’s suddenly very serious, “say you’re my slut.” 
“I’m-” your voice crack in humiliation, cheeks fiery and eyes squeezed shut, “I’m your slut!” 
“That’s right,” he pants, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your calf. “And my slut is gonna cum on my fucking fingers right now.” 
Your orgasm feels otherworldly - maybe godly - and your whole body shakes in his hold, chest bouncing in his face and moans melodic in his living room. Chan works you through it, finally pulling his fingers out when your hands weakly push at his own.
You’re sighing heavily with hair messy and teased, slumped back on his couch. “Holy shit,” you say, grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed. Chan is watching you with a proud smirk and a tent the size of Texas in his pants. 
A thought strikes you then, and your grin is fading and your brows are furrowing. “Wait- Wait, Chan? Where are your parents?” you ask suddenly, sitting up and straight and pulling your dress down hastily. You snap your head around self-consciously. 
“Relax! Relax!” he laughs, “They don’t live here anymore, I bought the house from them, like, six months ago.” 
Your jaw drops. You wait just a second, hoping to catch a cheeky glint in his eyes, that might tell you he’s joking. You find nothing but blackness.
“You bought the house?” 
Chan looks at you quizzically, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, they wanted to move, you know, see new things and I.. I just. Didn’t.” 
You can hardly fucking believe your ears.
“Chan!” you cry, frustration blooming in your chest and pounding in your head. “Why did you buy the fucking house? You’re gonna spend the rest of your life paying off the fucking mortgage, and you’re never gonna get out of here!” you shout, flailing your arms at his absurdity.
Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Sorry, city girl, we don’t all wanna pack up and live in a closet space for three years-” 
“Wha- Chan, this is not about me! How can you just.. Surrender to this place?” you shout and suddenly he’s raising his voice too. “Surrender?” he repeats, spitting it back at you.
“Yeah! Jesus, even your fucking parents wanted to leave, Chan. But you’re just- You’re gonna live out the rest of your life in this shithole and be some sort of- of priest?!” 
“I can’t believe you right now,” he stands up from the couch, and you follow suit. “In what world do you have the morality to come in here and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 
Your voices are echoing in the empty house, wine glasses and sauced plates standing idly on the tables nearby. Your silhouettes are confined to the large living room window, standing on either side of the moon. 
“You know what that means, Y/n,” he laughs bitterly. “No, please, tell me,” you invite him challengingly, wondering (or perhaps fearing) whether or not he’d actually go there. He prods at his cheek with his tongue, and hesitates.
“You were a fucking slut, Y/n.” His voice is quieter, maybe ashamed. Tears sting at your eyes, when you look at him incredulously. How could you think you knew this man? How could you think there was anything left to salvage? 
“Fuck you, Chan,” you spit, spinning around before the tears can fall. He says nothing, just stands alone in his living room while you dash out his door, hands wrapping around himself. 
Exiting his house into the cool, summer air, you realize one thing. The bell tower had been the call of the apocalypse.  _____________________________
You were the walls of Jericho that night, crying and tumbling in your childhood sheets, muffling your cries in the fear that he’d hear through his creaked open window. What was this pain, you couldn’t decide. Was it how he stayed steadfast or how you metamorphosed, dying only to return once again? 
In the morning, you’re dull and gray. You’re drinking coffee out of your dad’s old tourist shop mug from a visit to Niagara Falls, sitting at the dining table with puffy eyes. Your mom eyes you worriedly from the counter, leaning into your dad to whisper not-so-discreetly. 
“Sweetheart, you wanna go with us to church today? They’re having this whole event, the kids’ choir will be there!” she suggests gently and you just want to shrug off all her affection. 
“No,” you deadpan. Your mom gives your father a look. He sighs. 
“Alright, champ, that’s- that’s your choice,” he nods, mustache scrunching up when he pouts. You sigh, feeling like an asshole. “Sorry, I just-” 
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you just rest!” your mom shushes you, scrambling around the kitchen, ever in the hunt for some lost appliance. “All that college must wear you out, you should rest while you can, hm?” 
They’re gone by noon. You sit in the shadowed corner of your bed, avoiding the strip of light that dances across your room from the crack in the curtain. 
You’re bored, scrolling on your phone, cheek puffed up against your pillow, when it slips out of your hands and hits the floor with a loud bump. You groan, feeling like the whole world is against you today, and throw your arm off the bed to grab at it on the floor. 
It’s halfway under the bed, and when your fingers finally remark the smooth surface, they brush against something else. It’s hard and it feels dirty. You lift your head to look and tug it out.
It’s your diary. 
Phone long forgotten, you lift it carefully, like an old relic, and push open the faded pink cover. You feel like you’re about to snap in half, when your eyes survey the graphite-smudged pages of your horrible, horrible handwriting. The pages emanate a mysterious air that has you leaning back in your seat.
You’re skimming through angst entries, that has you cringing and wanting to put it down, before you freeze suddenly, inhaling sharply at the scribbled out words before you.
‘3. august 2016
God, I miss Chan.’
The words come with the promise of stinging tears in your eyes.
“Fuck you,” you whisper angrily at the page, because you’re crying again, and you close the book and hold onto yourself so tightly that it hurts. “Fuck that. Fuck this.” 
It’s perhaps the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. It’s anger, it’s sadness, it’s humiliation, it’s confusion. How did it end like this, you think. It would be so much easier if you were kids again. If he was that dorky kid from your church, who wore his father’s baseball caps and had chubby little hands when he prayed. You can do it better, you think miserably, if you get another chance. But you don’t. 
For about fifteen minutes, you curl into yourself and wait for the feeling to go away. It doesn’t. The heavy weight of realization pools in your stomach when you realize you might carry this with you for the rest of your life if you don’t do something. It doesn’t have to end like this.
Suddenly you’re light as a feather, grabbing your jacket and your keys and sprinting out the door and down the street. The cross atop the spire watches you run to it, awaiting you ominously.  _____________________________
You’re disheveled and pulled apart when you arrive at the gathering, and for once the townspeople look at you like you’re out of place. You’re late, you know, because people are taking their leave, scattering and dissolving towards the town square, and the entertainment (the kids’ choir), all robed in white, are marching away together. 
You’re panting, stumbling further into the church garden, jumping at the sound of grills being closed and rolled away onto the pavement. 
“Y/n?” Chan can hardly believe his eyes, when he sees you standing between a bed of lilies. You turn around and see him, melting a little at how tired and sad he looks. “I can’t believe you came,” he whispers, a little sparkle of hope in his gaze. You smile fondly, “Me neither.” 
Chan moves to embrace you, but freezes when he suddenly remembers where you are. “Uh, I can’t, I have to-” he stammers, scrambling for a solution, for something better than turning you away, when you’re here, close enough for him to hold. He looks around, gaze following the churchgoers as they pass through the gates, before he’s bopping his head down to whisper to you again: “Go into the church. I’ll be with you in a second.” 
You walk through that heavy, wooden door, and when it closes behind you the scrambling of metal and people and footsteps and crying children is gone. With the door, you’re sealed in here, with whatever fate follows.
All the light in the church is filtering through the stained glass windows, and once again you find yourself drawn to him. Judas. 
Part of you would expect such an artwork to depict Judas as greedy and grim, as glutinous and gloomy; that he would be hunched over with a pouch of shillings, giggling at his evildoing. But the Judas in the window is so.. Sad. 
He’s blue and gray and his eyebrows are upturned and for the life of you, you can’t figure out how the unknown artist must have managed to portray such despair in glass. You stand in the middle of his reflection on the floor, all blue and gray yourself, and you’re not sure it’s really because of the light.
That’s all the church inhabits at that moment. You and Judas, and your shallow breaths, and the stirring of dust in the air. There’s nothing holy in there with you. Just you and him.
You hear the door open to your right. You know it’s Chan, somehow you can just feel it. He must sense something in the air, because he says nothing, just walks up to stand beside you, and only then do you speak again.
“I always felt a bit like Judas,” you muster a breath.
Chan pauses and you can feel him looking at you. “Me too.” 
You furrow your brows, and finally look up at him, and there he is in his clerical shirt and his matching pants, his right cheek glowing bright blue. The whole room is so heavy, you lean against the bench behind you. 
“That’s not.. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
Chan doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He understands. “God made it that way,” he’s nodding with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. You laugh a little and hate how much love you feel, when Chan half-smiles at the sound.
“God.. Yeah,” you half-gesture to the sky and Chan giggles. Then you’re both quieting down again. “I can’t tell if it was you or God I turned my back on,” you say and you’re looking at Judas again, and how one, jagged hand holds onto his chest.
“Maybe it was both,” Chan says and there’s this unreadable expression on his face. You’re laughing again, cheeks apple-round. “I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemous to compare yourself to God.” 
“Yeah?” he laughs, “I think so too.” You’re looking at him again when he’s gulping hard and the joy drains from his face. A small frown curve his lips. “I’m sorry about yesterday, you know.” You look away.
“Me too,” you say. Chan can’t help the way his heart leaps when, without sparing him a glance, you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it. He squeezes back.
He gasps painfully and when you turn to him again, he’s choking back tears, face turning red. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I just wish… Fuck, I mean, we’re too different, aren’t we?” 
You nod. “We are.” 
“When are you leaving?” 
You smile disingenuously, hoping it’ll cheer him up. It doesn’t.
“Tomorrow.” 
Chan is crying, there’s no denying it now, no chalking it up to sniffles. Tears, turning yellow from the sun behind Judas’ back, trail down his cheeks and he wipes them aggressively, but they just keep coming. Deep, despaired moans bounce off the ceiling and walls of the church.
“Can I-?” Chan begins, unable to form words between his heart-rattling sobs. “I just- I need to-” 
“Yes,” you say, and there’s not a single doubt in your mind, that this is what you both want, as you take a step forward and pull his lips into yours. 
Chan’s lips taste like every color of Judas, of blue, of yellow, of gray, of green. Salt hits your tongue when his tears trail down to where you’re connected, and he’s still crying into the kiss, hands finding your waist and clutching so, so hard. 
“Please don’t cry,” you whisper in between kisses, “you’re gonna make me cry.” 
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop. He’s too caught up in memorizing the way your body feels under his hands, the way you’re moving against him, the way you’re pulling him by the collar of his clerical shirt, and how your nose feels shoved into his. 
His warm hands slide your shirt upwards, burning against your newly exposed skin. You pull away only to tug it over your head. Chan whimpers when he sees your chest, cupped by your bra and he pulls you into his chest to unhook the back, head looming over your shoulder. Ear pressed to his neck, you can feel the way it contracts, when he hiccups. 
As soon as he’s done, straps sliding gently down your arms, you’re pouncing on each other again, lips meeting rhythmically in the blued sunlight. Blindly, you’re unbuttoning his clerical shirt, fingers shaking against his chest. His hands clasp over yours soothingly, urging you to slow down. 
The whole ordeal is strangely silent, even Chan has stopped crying now, and the only sounds filling the church are the brush of fabric and your muffled moans into each other’s mouths. You’re whining though, when his shirt finally pushes off his shoulders and his torso is right in front of you and under your hands. 
You whimper at the sight alone, running your hands over his arms and over his chest down to his abs. Chan smirks at you. “I knew you liked it,” he mumbles to himself, almost childishly. 
This comment slows you down, as you’re pulling back to laugh, and you’re both shirtless in front of each other, hearts huge and glowing. Chan smiles at you adoringly while you laugh, face scrunched up and eyes crescents. 
“You can’t say that when I’m trying to fuck you,” you say finally, hair a mess on your head and lips pursed to keep yourself from laughing again. Chan loves your dumb face. He takes your hands in his and rubs the palms with his thumbs. “I know.” 
“Can I-?”
“Yes,” you whisper, agreeing before he can even get it out. Chan nods and holds you, gently guiding you onto the floor, where your entire body is marbled by the light hitting the glass. Chan stands over you for a moment. 
“You’re just gonna stare at me?” you joke, but your arms are sneaking their way up your torso. “Yeah,” Chan responds, but he’s already kneeling down in front of you, moving your arms away. 
“You are so beautiful,” he says it as if it almost pains him, but he’s straddling you and fumbling with your jean-buttons, beginning the tedious task of peeling them off your legs. You want to say something snarky, but he has you breathless and blushing, all you can muster is a meek: “Thank you.” 
He looks up from his work on your jeans at that, smiling at you fondly. 
You kick your jeans off your legs, while he begins to undo the buckle of his own pants, shoving them down his legs at the first opportunity. You’re both almost naked, you in your panties and him in his boxers, and you’re wondering why he’s showing no signs of moving them off you, dick hard and scorching fucking hot against your clothed core. Then he plants his arms on either side of your head, and rolls his hips into yours.
The moan you let out is coming from deep in your fucking soul. Only something godly could pull that out, you decide, sopping fucking wet from the star-like heat it has against you. “You sound so pretty,” he whimpers and does it again. Then again and again and again, and you’re arching your back and the both of you are moaning and groaning, filling the church with humidity. 
“Chan,” you muster, sounding on the verge of tears. His head is lowered onto your breasts, panting hard into the impossibly soft skin. “I-Inside. Now.” 
Chan wants to say something sexy, but he’s so desperate for you, that all he can manage is: “I agree.” 
He’s scrambling wildly to tear his boxers off and you do the same, lifting your hips to remove your drenched panties from your core. When you’re left bare, he lets out a choked moan, because immediately your hole clenching and gushing slick onto the tiled floor. The church floor, no less. 
“So fucking beautiful, and mine. Belongs to me,” he babbles, eyes wounded, but fingers spreading your folds open, as he lowers his head to remark on them. You mewl, fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Miss you,” you squall and he looks up at your face again. “Okay,” he responds, body moving back up to your face. Then he mutters against your lips: “Miss you too.” 
He’s kissing you again, so warm and wet in your mouth and humming into you. You claw at his back and whine wildly, when his hand steers his dick through your folds, lubricating itself in your plentiful wetness. 
He pulls away and you chase after him with sorrowful eyes. “I need to see your face when I push in,” he explains very sincerely, and you somehow understand that, yes, he needs to see it. You nod.
Then he’s pushing into you. He bursts through your gates, all thick and veiny and totally raw against the walls of your pussy. He’s slow, studying your face tenderly for any signs of discomfort, even when he grimaces from the euphoric feeling. And God, your face is so perfect, all scrunched up and twisted in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He will remember it forever.
He’s rocking in and out of you, and it’s slow, and it’s love, and it’s mature, and you’re moaning simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, as he fucks you into the floor. 
“Are you close, darling?” he pants against your cheek and you nod, because you are. Because it feels like your body has been working its way up to this final point, and every other milestone has just been a hillpeak on the way to a mountain. “Yes, yes, yes, I am.” 
“Good, so good for me,” he’s speeding up just a little bit, working the two of you closer and gaining leverage from his bruising grip on your hips. Your hand slides up his neck, from where he’s nuzzled into the side of your nose, and you whisper breathlessly in his ear: “Please cum inside, please, please.” 
And Chan’s head spins at that, thrusting so hard you’re entire body jerks. You, all filled with his kids, all soft and big stomached. The thought has his thrusts - now quite swift - becoming sloppy and has him spurting cum. You come at the feeling of him spurting inside you, spluttering you full of white seed, so much that it’s spilling out at the base of his cock. 
You’re both stilling, bodies expanding eagerly for air, and he’s still so close to you, still inside you, still buried in your hair, nose huffing breaths into your ear. The church is so painfully quiet, you begin to hear your own heartbeat. This was it. This was the narrow end. There was no other way. 
Lying your head on the tile and tilting it, so your eyes dance over the floor beneath you, you realize that Judas is no longer the artwork, no longer the masterpiece: It’s you and Chan on the floor, arching into each other and bathed in his light. To an unknowing outsider, the expressions you carry would also seem misplaced, just like Judas had to you. But you both know, still clinging onto each other like angels that flutter from the sky and into hell, that it was because of the end you had ensured for each other.
“I love you.” 
Chan whispers the words into your neck, voice thick. You realize he’s crying again, because you feel burning hot tears dribble down your neck, and his shoulders are shaking. You curl your arms around him.
“I know. I’m sorry. I love you too.” 
354 notes · View notes
seungcheorry · 1 month
Note
who do you think in svt would want to pick out your nail shape/colour when you get them done vs who would just "get what makes you happy, baby"
seungcheol might comment on the color, but is happy with whatever makes you happy. he even pays for it, if you let him.
jeonghan likes to pick out the color with you from time and time.
joshua doesn't mind that much, so he's happy as long as you're happy.
junhui likes to send you ideas of what you could do next, and is happy if you ever go with one of his suggestions. i guess a bit of both, then?
hoshi also likes to help you pick out the color/art you're gonna do it, just like jeonghan.
wonwoo doesn't mind either, but he likes it when he comes home and you show him what you did. whatever makes you happy.
woozi might pay for it if you let him/need him to, but he doesn't engage in any of it. whatever makes you happy, go for it.
dokyeom doesn't comment on it, but absolutely loves it when you ask him what you should do next. tries to match the color with your mood or a special occasion that is about to happen.
mingyu likes to pick out for you, and gets (jokingly) upset if you don't go with what he said.
minghao also likes to pick out for you, and smiles when you say "can i try this color on your nails too?"
seungkwan picks out for you, but doesn't mind if you change it for some reason. might side eye you just for the joke though, but whatever makes you happy.
vernon feels like a bad boyfriend when you say you did your nails last week, because he didn't actually notice. tries to pay more attention to it and loves the smile you give him when he compliments the new color.
dino notices, but doesn't engage with any of it. will let you know if he likes the color you're trying though.
473 notes · View notes
toruro · 7 months
Text
— ✧ cry for me
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i want you to cry, cry for me (twice)
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pairing: lee chan x reader
description: in which you're holding back tears in a cute little restaurant because you spilled wine all over your lap, and chan is holding back a raging boner.
a part of the crybaby series (can be read as a standalone)
genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, ft mingyu for a second
tags: tattooist + tattooed chan, crybaby reader, established relationship (they're so cute it's disgusting), dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), wall sex, petnames (baby, crybaby, princess), chan has a chest tattoo and i think that deserves it's own warning
w/c: 5.1k
a/n: i am a woman of my word: i finished it tonight! thank u to @rubyreduj iand @gyuswhore for looking this over for me when i thought i was going crazy. anyways, i hope u guys missed me actually writing. writer toruro is BACK!
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Pretty and short satin skirts are saved for nights like these. Under the dim glow of the moonlight and stars, the soft fabric falls loosely over your soft thighs and the beautiful curves of your hip. The cool night breeze pinches at your skin as you shuffle toward your boyfriend, hugging his arm that’s already linked with yours even closer to your chest.
Chan hums when you press your cheek against the cool leather of his jacket, “What is it baby?”
“‘m cold,” you mutter, pressing your legs together in an attempt to preserve what little warmth you have left. In hindsight, wearing this skirt probably wasn’t a good idea knowing that it’d be on the chiller side tonight but still, you couldn’t help but want to doll yourself up.
“Here,” Chan says, and you nearly whine when he pulls his arm away, but the complaints die on your tongue when he takes off his jacket and slips it over your shoulders, leaving him in his short-sleeve shirt.
“But—” you protest, running your fingers over his bare arm and frowning, but Chan cuts you off before you can speak further.
“Wear it baby, it looks nice on you,” he says casually, holding his arm out so you can wrap yourself around it again and hold him close. You feel warm, partly because of the protection that Chan’s jacket provides but mostly because of the way your body flushes with heat at his affectionate words.
The two of you are standing outside of this restaurant that you’ve been aching to try for ages, waiting for your names to be called in. As you settle back into his hold, Chan pulls out his phone holding it at an angle so the both of you can read the messages on the screen when he scrolls through your friends’ group chat.
“You wanna go to Jeonghan’s place tomorrow?” you ask, noticing Jeonghan complaining about being bored since Jihoon never leaves his room. Chan nudges your head with his own affectionately before shrugging.
“I’ll go if you go.”
You frown. “Well do you want to?”
“Baby if you want to, then I want to,” Chan says with a chuckle. “And anyways—”
“Chan! Table for two!” the voice of the hostess from the entrance of the restaurant calls out, and the two of you perk up. Chan raises a hand and nods, gently tugging his arm out of your grasp and instead slotting your hand in his, pulling you to follow after him inside.
The hostess greets you kindly, and you’re thankful that indoors is much less cold and much more inviting as she takes you to your table where you and Chan sit across from each other.
“What were you saying?” you ask as you settle into the seats, slipping off Chan’s jacket and handing it to him.
He only holds his hand out, palm facing you, and shakes head with a smile. “Keep it. Anyways, I was saying that I’ve been meaning to talk to Jeonghan for a while since he said he wanted to get a tattoo done.”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at that as you carefully drape his jacket over the back of your chair, scooting forward. “No way! Jeonghan always told me he’d never get a tattoo ‘cause he’s scared of needles.”
Chan laughs and his eyes light up. “Didn’t you say you were scared of needles? Look at where you are now …” he murmurs, eyes glossing over the little crescent moon on your arm, and then the small star that he had the privilege of pressing into your wrist just a few weeks earlier.
You shift in your seat and shyly nod. “Yeah but … that’s different. I think I might’ve chickened out of the last part if—” Your breath hitches in your throat and you stop yourself from finishing what you were about to say. If he hadn’t fucked you in that tattoo parlor right there and then, is what you both are thinking.
Chan grins at the way you grow flustered at his words before changing the topic. “I like this top, is it new?” he asks, eyes glossing over the blue, knit shirt that you put on for him just an hour earlier.
“Yeah! I got it to match the skirt—I’ve had this one for a while though, but it didn’t look nice with any of my tops I had until now, so I was really excited to finally get to wear it,” you tell him with a grin, hands smoothing over the satin and brushing over the plush of your thighs. Your stomach fills with a wave of giddiness when Chan smiles at you and nods.
“I’m glad. You look really pretty,” he says, reaching over and grabbing your hand. His gaze doesn’t falter, eyes on you as you continue to tell him about how you thought the shirt was sold out when you found it online you cried (Chan remembers; you called him with choked sniffles at midnight and almost hung up right away out embarrassment but he assured you that it was okay), rubbing a thumb over your skin as you speak.
You two fall into conversation naturally after that, waiting for your food to come as your fingers intertwine and sit in the middle of the table comfortably. The waiter starts off with your drinks—a wine for you each—before bringing out the appetizers.
Things go smoothly as they always do: the food is amazing and the setting is perfect, Chan’s hand grazes over yours ever so often and his eyes are on you in a loving gaze—everything’s going great, actually.
So maybe that’s why you let it get a little to your head when you hear the clanking of glass against glass.
It happens so quickly—the sound reverberates through the room and you blink once and then twice, looking down to find the growing wet spot on your cute little skirt. The feeling of wine against your skin hits you next, and when you look to your right and see the apologetic look of the waiter as he scrambles for the glass on the ground, it sinks in.
Fuck, and there it is again—that ugly feeling that clogs your throat and the furious blinking of your eyes as you try your best (you really, really do try your best). Chan knows it all too well, the way you press your lips together and try not to quiver as you reach down and try to help the waiter.
“What the hell man?” Chan exclaims, standing up from his seat in an instant to walk over to you, his eyes set as a hard glare on the waiter as he observes the growing stain on your precious little skirt.
The waiter stutters for a moment, reaching forward to dab a napkin over your lap, but your boyfriend stops him midway, swatting his hand away. “Watch it—” Chan peers closer at his name tag as he snatches the napkin from the waiter’s hand, “—Mingyu. You’ve done enough.”
“I-I’m sorry,” the waiter, Mingyu stutters out, holding the dropped wine glass behind his back as he shuffles away.
Chan glares at him hard as he presses a hand against your back, and if your vision wasn’t already so blurry you might have been intimidated by how intense the gaze was. Instinctively, you turn your face towards his figure as you feel other customers’ eyes over the little scene unfolding at your table. “C-can we go?” you ask him quietly.
It doesn’t take him more than a second for Chan to turn to Mingyu and mutter, “Just get us the check. We’re leaving.”
Mingyu nods bashfully and scurries away, but you don’t really notice because you’re chewing down on your lip as your boyfriend pats your back and leans down to watch you apologetically. Fuck, you feel so pathetic for crying over this but you can’t help it! You really can’t!
You’ve been looking forward to this night for so long and have been planning this outfit for even longer, and now that both your night and your pretty little skirt are ruined, you swear you can’t stop the tears from falling.
Chan hates it when you cry. Well, that’s a lie. It’s a fickle thing, really—the anger that bubbles up inside of him whenever he sees your eyes red and brimming with tears isn’t directed at you—fuck no—but rather whatever (in this case, whoever) caused it in the first place.
So yeah, you could say Chan hates it when you cry, but then again, he finds it cute when you call him, sniffling over your favorite croissant being sold out at that cafe down the street you always go to. He hates when you waste tears over things like this, but he also knows you can’t help it, and there’s something oddly endearing about the way you always lean in to his touch for comfort. After all, you’re his sweet girl, and he loves all of you; the parts of you that cry over seeing a kitten struggle to cross the street and the parts of you that sob when he’s shoving his cock into your warm cunt.
All of it, he loves all of it.
So maybe that’s why Chan can’t help but get a little bit lost in your puffy, glossy eyes when you look up at him and silently beg for some comfort. He knows it’s an innocent gesture, and when he runs a hand down the side of your cheek and you nuzzle into his palm, he almost feels guilty for the way his cock begins to strain against his pants.
You’re just so cute, and Chan swears he can’t control himself. He can’t ever control himself when it comes to you.
Using the napkin he snagged from Mingyu just moments earlier, Chan leans down and swipes over the wetness on your thighs, soaking up as much of the red liquid that he can. It’s kind of hard to think, honestly. He watches your tears mix with the wine on your lap, and while his fingers brush over the plush of your thighs, he starts to lose himself entirely.
Stop! Stop! Stop! Chan tries to tell himself because really, he should be focusing on taking care of his sweet, sweet girl and wiping away her tears but here he is trying to not think about the massive hard-on he’s got going on beneath his pants.
Mingyu stops by with the check, frantic with more wipes as he cleans up the ground as Chan pays the bill. You quietly slip on the same leather jacket Chan gave to you just half an hour earlier as he helps you get up from the seat, cringing at the way your wet and stained skirt feels against your legs.
With his hand closed around your wrist, your boyfriend leads you to the exit but you keep your head down bashfully. You feel the gazes of other customers on your back as you two make your way out of the restaurant, and the cold night air is a stark contrast to the way your body burns with embarrassment.
Once finally outside and standing by the parking lot, Chan takes a moment to look at you. You’re still biting down on your lip like it’s the only thing you know how to do, eyes trained to the ground as you tighten your fingers around him instinctively. He senses something is bothering you—something other than the fact that your meticulously planned outfit was ruined on such a whim.
Nightly zephyrs pulse against his skin and Chan glances down at your slightly shaking legs, realizing that they are now wet and exposed and probably feel colder than ever. “C’mon baby,” he urges, tugging you towards his car, “Let’s sit inside.” Silently, you comply and follow behind him, slipping into the passenger seat and sighing contently as you escape the chilliness of the night.
He watches you as you click your seatbelt on, sinking into the seat when that familiar clenching of your jaw and furious blinking of your eyes takes over your features. “Oh baby,” Chan coos, shuffling closer to you so he can plant a hand on the back of your neck. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks as you bury your hands in your face in a fruitless attempt to muffle your sniffles.
“I—” You stop because your voice comes out all ugly and distorted. “—I was s-so excited for tonight,” you admit honestly, calming down a little as Chan’s hand runs up and down your spine soothingly. “And then I just—I ruined it.”
“Baby, what are you talking about?” your boyfriend asks, tapping your cheek so you finally look up at him. Your cheeks are a little puffy and your bottom lip juts out in a pretty pout, and Chan brushes a thumb over the wet skin. “You didn’t ruin anything—it’s all that prick Mingyu’s fault. We can go to my place and still have fun,” he suggests, and although he means it to be a thoughtful gesture—something like takeout and ice cream—he can’t help but fantasize about some other definitions of fun.
“But—”
“No buts baby. Except, maybe yours,” Chan tells you with a playful wink, his heart swelling when you manage out a giggle between your harsh breaths. He starts to pull himself away from you when he senses a lightening of your mood, and so slowly, he starts the engine.
You settle into a comfortable silence as he starts the drive back to his place, and even though he’s mainly focused on keeping a smile on your face, Chan really can’t ignore the relentless ache in his pants.
After all, how could he when you insisted on keeping his hand on your thigh? “Wanna feel you,” is what you said when you guided his fingers to settle over the soft flesh, and Chan has half a mind to think it’s in an innocent gesture—his sweet girl just wants to keep him close—but he also knows you.
Chan knows that beneath all the soft whimpers and hot tears is a girl far more observant than you let on, and he’d be stupid to think you didn’t notice the tent in his pants earlier.
Maybe he’ll make you pay for that, he thinks as he parks in front of his apartment building, but when you shyly slip out of his car and keep your head hanging low as your eyes glaze over the big red stain on your skirt, Chan thinks otherwise.
Again, he can’t ever control himself when it comes to you.
Any thoughts Chan might have had about teasing you until the world’s demise wash away when he closes the door behind him as you both walk into his apartment. He knows you get a bit needy when you’re upset but still, he wasn’t really expecting you to turn around and sink into his arms the second the lock clicks shut.
Your cheek is pressed into his chest as your arms circle his firm torso, and from above, Chan can see that your eyes are pressed shut. The base of your stomach is pressing into his crotch and fuck, he can’t tell if you intentionally shift against him because your face looks so sad but then again, there’s no way you’re doing this without thinking.
Still, Chan shoves away the filthy thoughts that he really doesn’t think he should be having and wraps his arms around your shoulders, placing a hand on the back of your head. You’re not sure how long you guys stay like that, and despite the ache that burns between both of your legs, it’s a comforting few moments—his fingers in your hair as you pull him closer to you.
You need a distraction, you’ve realized. Something to really cry about.
Being with Chan over the past few months has taught you that, in the best way possible, your tears really mean nothing unless they’re falling because of him. Maybe it’s the thought that prompts you to finally pull away and pout up at him.
“Channie,” you whimper and fuck, Chan knows those eyes. You know he does.
“What is it baby?” he asks, gazing down at you so intensely that you know he isn’t even bothering to hide his lust anymore. He holds your cheek with a hand, thumb stroking over your soft skin for a moment before crashing his lips onto yours.
Chan kisses your breath away. Teeth nipping and sucking against yours as your tongues melt in a hot mess when he presses you into the wall. Looming into you from above, his grip on your face remains tight as he guides you deeper into his mouth, crotch pressing into your lower stomach.
It’s dizzying, almost. Kissing Chan always is.
It isn’t long before you’re pawing at his chest as you struggle to keep up with his intensity. Your palms ache for his skin, and having your fingers run up and down his firm arms just isn’t enough. When Chan pulls his lips away, your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip juts out into a pout.
“Off,” you mumble, weakly tugging at the hem of his shirt, and usually Chan would play with you a little longer, make you beg a little harder, make you really work for it, but he feels that you’ve already suffered enough.
Swiftly, he pulls the tight shirt over his head, revealing the firmness that lay beneath the fabrics, and fuck, you think you might just pass out on the spot—you’ll never get sick of seeing him like this.
“Like what you see baby?” Chan chuckles, but he already knows the answer from the way your eyes zone in on the symmetrical pattern that adorns his upper chest.
“Always …” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your body close against his as you start to place kisses all over his skin. Shy and sweet is what your lips feel like, skitting over his chest as Chan watches you in admiration; your tongue traces over the dark curves, eyes fluttering shut as if you’ve already got it memorized by heart (you probably do).
His hands start to thread in your hair, pressing against your scalp until he’s fisting the strands and tugging your head back. Chan’s mouth meets yours in a hot mess—your own saliva’s already smeared all over your chin and cheeks, and the mix of tongue against tongue and teeth against teeth is only adding to the sloppy kiss as he backs you into the wall.
“Baby,” he whispers into your mouth before beginning to trail rough kisses down your jawline and over your collarbone. He sucks blotchy, red marks into your soft skin, fingers kneading at the flesh of your waist when you start to press your lower half into his. “Baby, you drive me fucking crazy.”
You wanna scream and say ‘ditto’ but the only sound that escapes your lips is a choked moan when he shoves a thigh between your legs and presses against your core. The ache is like a fire, burning through your veins and blooming all up inside of you, making your tummy tumble and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you clamp your bottom lip between your teeth.
Grinding against him, your skirt rides up your thighs revealing the pretty white, lace panties hidden beneath, and Chan’s breath hitches in his throat. Something buzzes in his head and it’s like a rush in his ears—his hands shoot out and are all over your tits.
Gripping the soft flesh over your pretty little shirt and matching lace bra underneath, and soon you’re scrambling to get all this fabric off of you. “So pretty baby, so pretty,” Chan breaths out when he steps away from you a little, dropping his knee as you toss your shirt and bra to the side. He grabs your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together as you look up at him dreamily. “You’ll suck Channie off, right baby?” he coos, and you feel your legs grow weak at the sickly sweet touch to his tone.
“Yeah-huh,” you pant, inching closer to him as you start to drop to your knees, hands immediately making their way to the waistband of his dark jeans. Chan doesn’t help you with the belt—he enjoys watching you fumble with the leather, pouting when it doesn’t come out as easy as you’d like.
Once you finally work your way around it, you’re unbuttoning his jeans and yanking them down to reveal the bulge that strains against his boxers. Without a second thought, you lick his cock over the fabric, eyes lazily looking up at Chan who watches you expectantly.
“You know what to do baby,” he tells you, and so you comply, hooking your fingers under the elastic band and tugging his boxers down. When his cock springs out, it lightly slaps against your cheek, precum smearing all over your already wet cheeks.
Chan thinks you look so beautiful like this, shiny cheeks marked by his heavy cock that starts to make its way between your lips with the guidance of your hands. Soft fingers play with the base of his length as you swipe over the tip your shy tongue and fuck—you look so hot when you stare up at him like that, like you don’t know all the depraved things Chan wants to do with you.
You start off with kitten licks—lapping at the precum that’s dribbled all over the pretty, prominent veins that adorn his cock, and pressing your tongue flat against his bulbous tip. Chan runs a hand over your hair, resting his palm against the crown of your head at the end and gently pushing you forward.
You whimper as you start to take more of his length into your mouth, the underside dragging against your tongue, and you move one hand up to wrap around the base of where your mouth can’t reach, using the other hand to cup his balls.
“Jus’ like that,” Chan mumbles, watching you struggle to take him deeper, shoving his fat tip to the back of your throat as far as you can, tears pricking in your eyes, before pulling back to take in a heaving breath. “Good job baby,” he urges you on, when you open your mouth again, taking him down your throat again.
Your jaw aches as you repeat the motion, tears dripping down your cheeks, over your chin, and onto your soft thighs. Every time his cock pushes to the back of your throat, a few more drops fall, and soon Chan starts to take the lead, directing the movement of your head with his grip on your head.
And it feels so fucking good, the way he’s a got a firm grip on you, the way his cock stretches your mouth open so nicely—so you can taste all of him—the way he’s muttering curses amidst the murmurs of praise; “Yeah baby, feel’s so fuckin’ good.”
It’s got even you rolling your eyes to the back of your head and all you can think is Chan, Chan, Chan, and he can think about is you, you, you—and suddenly, he’s pulling his length out of your mouth so quickly it has your vision going white.
“Gotta cum w’me, princess,” Chan instructs over the rush in your ears, grabbing your wrist and gently tugging you to your feet. You’re slightly light-headed, stumbling forward from all the movement, but Chan catches you gently with a soft chuckle. “Easy baby, easy,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head and kissing your aching lips softly as he once again presses you into the wall.
You make out sloppily for a few moments, your arms wrapping around his neck, tongues melting into each other as Chan tastes himself on you. His hands are playing with the zipper of your skirt, and with a soft gasp into his mouth, he pushes them down to pool at your ankles. “Leg up baby,” he tells you, tapping your hip with one hand so you get the message.
Hastily, you lift your thigh, involuntarily groaning against Chan’s lips when his big, rough hand plants itself on the underside of your thigh, helping you wrap your leg around his torso. His cock’s prodding right against your leg now, and you swear you can feel how painfully hard he is, swear you can feel him straight up throbbing against you.
“‘m so wet Channie,” you sigh helplessly, slotting one hand between your parted legs and swiping your fingers over the slick that drenches your thin panties. With slippery hands, you mindlessly reach for Chan’s cock, gently nestling the thick length against your clothed core.
“Oh fuck,” Chan groans at the contact, jutting his hips further into yours to increase the friction. His pelvis is flush against yours, and the stimulation of his skin against your clothed clit along with his cock sliding right by your folds is dizzying. “Makin’ a mess already, huh?” he says, shoving the fabric of your panties to one side to reveal your dripping cunt.
Quickly, his fingers are all over you, sliding between your slickness and thumb rubbing circles into your clit until you’re whining and fuck—Chan hardly gets to stick one finger into your tight cunt before you’re almost on the verge of tears again—
“Channie, need your cock now,” you cry out, hands pawing at the tattoo over his chest. “Can’t wait—need it no—oh.” The last words die on your tongue when Chan shoves his fat tip inside you. “Oh Channie—feels s’full,” you moan, your head falling back and hitting against the wall as he continues to slide his full length against your walls.
“Yeah princess?” he mutters, leaning forward and kissing your shoulder blade after he fully bottoms out inside of you. Your cute little cunt is screaming from pleasure, erupting flames all over your skin as you struggle to adjust to his size. Chan can see it, the way you’re already trembling, standing leg quivering as you try your best to not crumble into him, try your best to not give in right away.
You always look so cute trying when you know you’re gonna fail anyways.
Without warning, Chan drags his cock out slowly, and when you look at him with those glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but slam right back into you with a force that throttles you against the wall.
“Fuck,” you whimper, running one hand up Chan’s arm, tracing the curves of his biceps before finally gripping onto his shoulder tightly.
“You feel it princess?” Chan asks you softly when he drags out of you again before pressing you into the wall with another harsh thrust.
“Yeah-huh,” you nod dumbly, using your free hand to run your palm over your lower stomach. “Feel you all the way here Channie,” you moan when he shifts inside of you so his cock is hitting you even deeper. “Fuck!” you cry out when his pace starts to speed up, the tears that lingered in your lash line already starting to drip down your face.
“My pretty baby’s crying already …” Chan coos with a mocking pout, grip on your waist tightening so much you feel you’ll have bruises the next morning. “That’s it princess … cry it out—I know you wanna,” he eggs you on once he leans in, fingers ghosting by your earlobe.
“Can’t help it,” you choke out, finally letting the soft sobs pleasure erupt from your throat, head falling against Chan’s shoulders. “Feel so good Channie—can’t help it—’m sorry, I—”
“Shh,” Chan hushes you with a particularly harsh trust, pressing so close to you that his pelvis is once again bumping against your clit. “Don’t apologize … you look so pretty … pretty crybaby. That’s what you are, aren’t you? My crybaby?”
“Ye-yes!” you mewl when your legs start to shake more rapidly.
“Yeah … yeah—fuck,” Chan huffs when you clench down on him, and your walls are so tight around his length that you’re starting to wonder just how much longer you can hold out for.
“Can’t have anyone seeing you like—fuck—like this,” he moans, gripping your thigh tighter and tighter as he starts ramming into you so fast it’s punching the air straight out of your lungs. You’re wailing into his skin now, teething at his neck as your whole face is covered in a hot and sticky mess, fingers running all up and down his chest.
“Only thing you should be crying over is me, okay baby? You got that?”
“Uh-huh,” you whimper, fingers sinking into his skin as you feel that familiar wave of pleasure well up in your stomach. “Only yo—oh fuck, Channie ‘m gonna cum s—fuck!” you gasp out, hiccuping over your own tears as the waves crash down.
Your legs go limp as Chan’s cock drills into your warm cunt, the combined arousal dripping down your thighs and onto the floor (you’ll have to clean the ground later). His fat cock is battering against your tight walls roughly, fluttering walls pressing down on every vein, every curve of the length.
“There you go princess, cum f’me,” he grunts as he secures one arm around your waist, digging your back deeper into the wall so you don’t fall over as he starts to ride out his own orgasm against your pulsing walls.
Watching your blown out eyes and swollen lips, tear kissed cheeks and disheveled hair, Chan feels his own eyes rolling to the back of his head when your overstimulated pussy clamps down on him, squeezing out every last drop of cum. Painting your walls white, the sensation of Chan’s cum filling you up has you whimpering and mewling into his neck as he starts to loosen his grip.
“Fuck princess … made such a mess,” he mutters, looking down at the sticky mixture that rests where his softening cock meets your cute cunt.
“Hmm,” you hum, letting your wobbly legs drop to the floor once his cock flops out of your slippery, cunt, nuzzling into his tattooed chest. Giggling softly, you wrap your arms around his torso and look up at him with a lazy grin, “I forgot why I was crying earlier.”
Chan smiles, holding your cheeks with both his hands to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.”
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crybaby series masterlist
a/n: thank u for reading, i hope u enjoyed >_< pls feel free 2 leave comments / rbs if u did! i know i took horrendously long 2 pop pt2 of crybaby :[ I'M SORRY guys not 2 ramble but i have been in a writing slump recently and this is the only thing of decent length and decent quality that i have produced in the span of two months so c: i am happy w how this turned out! i'll try my best to get the 3rd and final part of the series a little bit quicker, but no promises :3
taglist pt1: @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @seokchannieworld @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @hanniebanggi @peachyaeger @shoulietaro @1004luvangel @dnylwoo @dollyhaes @gyulune @wonranghaeee @tsukkisboo @cheolism (strike through could not be tagged)
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kozukensgf · 28 days
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bf texts with seventeen! maknae line
their reaction when you didnt say "i love you" back to them
genre: smau, fluff, one shot, crack, fake texts
character(s): the8, dk, mingyu, seungkwan, vernon, dino
masterlist
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hyung line version
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kyeomsense · 5 months
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svt maknae line’s reaction to surprise kisses
as promised, the maknae line version! (albeit way overdue)
svt x gn!reader, all fluff
wc: ~700
read the hyung line ver
minghao
he doesn’t expect the feeling of your soft lips on his bare shoulder as he lays in bed, lazily glossing over the lines in his new book. he lays the book to rest and hums softly as you try to play it off as if you’re asleep. when you don’t budge after the first few nudges and inquiries, he settles for pressing a quick kiss onto your lips and turning away. when you scramble to meet his lips again, he simply pretends he’s asleep and gives you a taste of your own medicine. you spend the rest of the night whining and giggling as he peppers kisses across your face.
mingyu
you creep up on him while he’s distracted and manning the grill during a camping trip. per the demand of jeonghan’s dare, you press a chaste kiss onto mingyu’s neck, just below his ear. you dash off before he gets the chance to react, but you can imagine his reaction when seungcheol and jeonghan are erupting in laughter at how red he goes. he returns the favor when you two are alone by the fire pit, pulling you into his lap and leaving tender kisses all along your neck as payback. (he makes sure there’s at least two marks for you to cover up in the morning)
seokmin
he’s in the grocery store, staring at the varying options of ramen trying to figure out which ones you’d like more. you walk up behind him and peek at the two options he’s holding in his hands. as you give your input, you turn his face and kiss his nose gently before speeding off with the cart as if nothing happened. he’s stuck frozen in place for a good twenty seconds before he snaps back into reality and chases after you, his loud, pouty voice echoing through the aisles. when he catches you, he whines with a flushed face about how you should at least kiss him properly if you’re going to do it.
seungkwan
as you’re affectionately cuddled up next to him watching a kdrama, you notice his eyelids growing heavy. you manage to sneak in a kiss on his temple, causing him to jump slightly before grumbling about how you scared him. he pulls you in closer and presses a kiss of his own onto your temple as well. the two of you spend the rest of the night sweetly exchanging kisses and keeping warm in each other’s arms until you’re both lulled to sleep by the soft hum of the voices on TV
vernon
while he’s lost in his own world, headphones on over both his ears and attention completely focused on his phone, you strut in front of him. he doesn’t notice at all, too engaged in whatever he was watching. feeling particularly bold, you take his chin in your hand, lean down, and press a firm kiss onto his lips. as you walk away, his expression morphs from surprise to confusion to sappy and he follows after you. he encircles you in his arms from behind when he finds you and rests his chin on your shoulder, mumbling something about how he loves you and about how you two should kiss more.
chan
he’s animatedly talking to seungkwan and vernon when you press a quick kiss onto his cheek. the movement makes him stop mid-sentence as he swivels his head to find you. by then, you’re speedwalking off, but still in his line of sight. he pauses his conversation with the two as they begin laughing at his sudden urgency. you scramble when you hear heavy, fast footsteps behind you, but you’re eventually tackled with a hug from chan. he leaves kisses from your forehead down to the base of your neck, scolding you for ‘embarrassing him in front of his friends’. you laughter echoes through the halls as you reciprocate his affection with kisses of your own.
a/n: finally done with this~ school has been kicking my ass lately but now that it's over i have plenty of time to write :D
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princessleechan · 8 months
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choi seungcheol must die masterlist
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📌synopsis: Mingyu wasn't the one with his heart broken. It was his little sister. And Seokmin's older sister. And Chan's best friend. Choi Seungcheol is a menace to society and needs to be put down. Immediately. The sure fire way to do it is to give him a taste of his own medicine: break his heart. 📌pairing: fem!reader x ??? (seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, chan) 📌genre: slight angst, romance, humor, eventual smut 📌series tags: 18+ only, SMAU, inspired by “John tucker must die”, John tucker!seungcheol, college au, revenge fic, tags will vary from chapter 📌status: COMPLETED WITH BONUSES TO COME 📌started: oct 6th, 2023 - feb 18, 2024 📌Tag list: please reply to this post, send an ask, or dm to get updated
Profiles #1, #2, #3
Act I :
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Act II :
11 | 12 | 13+bonus written scene | 14+bonus written scene | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25
Act III
26 | 27 | 28 | 29 written scene | 30+bonus written scene(18+) | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37
Epilogue
Bonus:
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