jealousy, jealousy || Chan x f!reader
Summary: You can feel Chan's eyes on you from across the room. If you're honest, you're enjoying the attention a little more than you should. Sure, technically there's nothing about the little 'arrangement' between the two of you that justifies it, but if you're being honest, what you have with him has been about more than sex for quite some time now.
Word count: 5k
Genres: college AU, friends with benefits AU, smut
Warnings & Tags: jealousy, swearing, mentioned slut shaming (not in a sexy way), smut [oral sex (f receiving), fingering, vaginal sex], unprotected sex, reader has commitment issues
series masterlist
A/N: final piece in this series! I hope you've enjoyed the ride with me, even if it took way longer than anticipated~ Thank you for the love and support!
Ask anyone on campus, and they’ll tell you how wonderful of a person Bang Chan is. Sweet, kind, involved in campus life, somehow juggling being captain of the swim team with being producer-singer-songwriter for the rising group 3RACHA, he’s loved by everyone and their mother — literally, since he’s the ideal son-in-law.
Ask anyone on campus, and they’ll say you’re a bitch.
Well, maybe not a bitch, but the word that comes back about half the time when talking about you is messy.
To be fair, it’s not a reputation you’ve done anything to counter, or something that you’d say isn’t true about you. ‘Homewrecker’, that you disagree with. You don’t keep tabs on people, and if guys happen to have girlfriends when they hook up with you, you don’t think it says anything about you. ‘Slut’ also gets thrown around every now and then. You don’t feel any type of way about it. Yeah, you like to have fun, no shame in that. Part of you is amused by the word, thinks that the second it gets dropped in a conversation, you know to stop giving a fuck about the person using it. The other’s somewhat annoyed by it. No one’s saying that about Seo Changbin, even if there’s a different girl in his bed every other day. No, he’s a lady’s man, a charmer, but you’re a Jezebel, even though— Ah, forget it. You don’t have to justify any of your actions.
You know your reputation leads to you being easily approached by dudes, specifically when you’re at a party on campus. Guys think it means you’re more likely to sleep with them, when the truth is, you’re very picky with a large number of people to chose from, and no reason to go for the bottom of the barrel.
The thing is, though, that you like having fun at parties. Dancing around, laughing with people, maybe a little bit of harmless flirting that doesn’t have to lead anywhere, that’s just part of it for you. The guys who approach you, however, have a tendency to take that as an indication that you want to fuck them. Which leaves you in the uncomfortable position of having to strike a balance between having fun, not leading people on, and not being mean to them if you’re not interested. Except you regularly do have to be mean to them.
Hence the ‘bitch’ reputation.
Tonight’s not any different on that front. You’re having fun with some guy you have no intention of fucking, laughing at his jokes, all without getting too close. It wouldn’t bother you to do that, even without doing anything with him later on, but you don’t want to deal with that much drama tonight.
What’s new — though it’s become increasingly familiar to you lately — is Chan’s attention on you, which you can feel radiating towards you from across the room. You’ve caught him staring three times in the last hour, shooting him a knowing grin when he didn’t look away fast enough, daring him to come over, if it bothered him that much. He hasn’t moved so far. But he’s been glaring for a while.
It's not like he's not busy, too. He’s surrounded by people, several of whom are talking to him. They get his attention every now and then, and he’s pretty good at pretending. He just keeps on coming back to you, like a butterfly drawn to an incandescent lightbulb.
That’s a game you don’t mind playing, but you’re starting to get bored of the conversation you’re having and, well, you’re not trying to upset Chan, even if he’s cute when he’s angry.
“I’m gonna go get some fresh air,” you say, smile turning polite, as you uncross your legs and start to get up. That works, sometimes. People let you go, and take the hint when you don’t come back.
“I’ll come with you,” the guy says, mimicking your movement immediately.
That isn’t rare either. Just means you’ll have to work a little harder to shake him off.
Though the weather’s been warm lately, a reminder that summer is just around the corner, the air outside still feels cold, compared to how hot it was inside. It would be the perfect change of pace, if it wasn’t for the presence still hovering right beside you. You’re figuring the right way of getting rid of him when he puts his sweaty, clammy arms around your shoulders, and you can’t stop yourself from jumping out of his reach, the feeling supremely unpleasant.
Oops. So much for tact.
“Look,” you say as he’s staring at you with surprise, “I’ve had fun, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”
Smooth. There was definitely a better way of phrasing this.
At least you didn’t tell him he’d been boring you for the past twenty minutes?
You don’t get much time to feel bad though, because his face contorts in anger — not disappointment, sadness, or even embarrassment, but anger — and then he goes “Are you for real? You’ve been fucking teasing—”
“Hey,” a stern voice comes from behind him. “I think she wants you to leave her alone.”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business,” he snaps, turning around, and then freezing when he’s met with Chan, who’s folded his arms over his chest in his best impression of a displeased dad. “Chan, I, uh—”
It takes one look from Chan for the guy to vanish without adding another word. No one wants to cross him, all too aware of the fact that he can ruin someone’s life by even implying that he doesn’t like them — ‘cause Chan’s so nice, why wouldn’t he like you? It’s pretty suspicious of you, to be disliked by this one dude, who’s never asked anyone to take his opinion as gospel.
“My knight in shining armor,” you purr, taking one step towards Chan, mostly just so you can enjoy hearing him clear his throat and watch him averting his eyes. You both know you’re his biggest weakness, after all. “You know I was going to be fine, right?”
That brings back the frown on his face.
“He couldn’t take you telling him you weren’t interested. That shouldn’t be your problem to deal with.”
He has a point. You think. Maybe. You can’t tell for sure, because this is just so normal for you. These days, every other interaction with guys goes like this, and you’ve sometimes had to grapple with the uncomfortable question of whether it’s your reputation doing the work for you, or if you are making people think you’re interested. You know what you do when you’re trying to get into someone’s bed, know that you didn’t pull any of it with that guy, but clearly you’re not being perceived that way.
In the end, you shrug.
“I mean, I was having a good time before this. I just wasn’t going to fuck him.”
It’s always fun to see Chan react to how blunt you are. You know for a fact that he’s capable of swearing like sailor — like he does when he’s inside you — but he always seems taken aback by you being this direct.
You get another step closer. Now, you’d just have to push a little to steal a kiss from him, and his plump lips sure are looking awfully tempting.
“Were you bored without me?” you ask, mischief dancing in your eyes.
“I was—” He clears his throat, not quite looking at you. There was a time when this behavior would have annoyed him, which you also found to be fun, but these days are far behind you now. “—busy.”
You hum in amusement, not fooled by the answer whatsoever — and a little insulted he’d even try that excuse when you know he’s been staring, and he knows you know he’s been staring — but there’s still a tiny little bit of concern poking through.
“Aw,” you say, not dropping the teasing, “even at a party you can’t get a break?” And then, leaning even closer, “Want me to help you relieve some of that stress?”
The tip of his ears goes red, but this time he meets your eyes, and you think he’s going to give in, when a voice calls his name.
From behind him, in appears Mido, and you raise an eyebrow at her. One of the top students in her field, she’s also super involved in campus life. Lately, she’s been busy planning a music festival — you think, you haven’t been paying much attention — which has led her to hang around Chan a lot. She’s pretty high-strung and a workaholic in the making, but she’s kinda cute in her determination. She’s also very into Chan, which, really, who isn’t?
But that makes her, uh, not your biggest fan. You suspect that she’s caught on to some of what’s been going between you and Chan, and it’s clear that she’s not super happy about it. You can’t really blame her. You probably wouldn’t want yourself hanging around Chan that much, if you were a friend of his — not even out of jealousy, but out of fear that you’d break his heart.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she says, somewhat out of breath, “I’ve been working on changing the program, like we’ve discussed, and I was hoping you could take a look at what I’ve got done.”
And there goes your sympathy, replaced with annoyance in the span of a minute.
Maybe you’re like Tinkerbell, not enough space within you for more than one emotion at any given time.
You’re speaking before Chan’s gotten the time to opine and get to work again.
“Seriously?” you say. “It’s a Saturday night. It’s— Fuck, it’s almost two a.m. Can’t he get a break?”
You get a surprised look from Chan, while Mido rolls her eyes like she’d expected that reaction from you and came prepared.
“I realize that you don’t understand the concept of responsibilities, but some of us have stuff to do.”
You almost want to laugh.
“The faculty isn’t going to collapse in on itself if Chan takes a night off.”
“It’s work that’s going to accumulate and make it worse on him as it goes on—”
“Then it sounds like you need to learn to delegate more efficiently, because there is no way that he’d have to be working these hours if that was handled better.”
Mido’s turning very red now, opening and closing her mouth as she looks for a retort. You suppose that the jab at her abilities, something she probably values a lot, wasn’t that nice, but also, fuck, you mean this. Unpleasant opinions have a tendency to slip out of you without you having much control over it, but it’s not like you can take them back when you very much thought ever word you said.
“Hey, how about we calm down,” Chan says, putting a hand on your shoulder, and you know that he has a point, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to snap ‘why should I calm down’ at him. You hold back just enough to get to see him turn around towards Mido with a polite smile. “I’ll look at the schedule first thing tomorrow,” he promises her, and she’s clearly boiling, but she’s more in control of herself than you are, so she doesn’t say anything.
“Sure,” she answers, sounding like she’s stopping herself from screaming. “I’ll email it to you.”
“Thanks,” Chan nods.
He only turns to look at you once she’s left the balcony, marching back inside, no doubt beelining for her friends in order to complain about you.
“Can’t you just play nice?” Chan asks you. He sounds tired rather than pissed.
“I would if you played less nice,” you say. You know that he’s going to have something to retort to that, because he’d probably drop dead if he put himself first for one fucking time in his life, and you don’t want to play into that. So instead, you hook two of your fingers into his belt, pulling him closer to you.
“What do you say we make good use of your hard-earned freedom?”
He swallows, and you know you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, even if it only lasts until morning.
You’re already entangled with Chan by the time you push him through his door. His back hits the wall, and he lets out a delightful groan into your mouth. He’s kept his hands gentlemanly on your waist, but you know for a fact that the gentleman act never lasts that long when he’s with you. It’s just a matter of getting him to snap, and these past few months have given you all the opportunities you needed to master that skill.
“You sure Changbin isn’t here tonight?” you ask against his lips. “We could give him a show.” Then, with a grin, “Or we could ask him to join.”
And sure enough, that gets to him. His kiss turns more demanding, he bites at your bottom lip, and, fucking finally, he grabs a handful of your ass. You hear yourself letting out an undignified yelp.
“No way,” he growls, giving you another one of his glares, eyes dark and filled with desire.
“Hmmm, I really like you jealous,” you can’t help but tease him, pushing your hips against him where you can feel him, already half hard. You’d bet he gets off on the idea of showing you that you’re his.
But the comment seems to throw him off a little and he ducks his head sheepishly.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the gentleman in him getting back on top when all you want is for him to rail you unceremoniously. “About earlier.”
He hasn’t let go of you, but he looks like he wants to get this off his chest before you can go with the festivities, so you humor him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you listen to him. If your nails graze against the nape of his neck, it sure isn’t in an attempt to get him to focus back on you.
“You were defending me,” you say with a shrug, mostly to give him in an out.
“No, I was, but—” Ugh, he’s not going to take it. “I was jealous. And I know I— I have no right to be.”
Aw. It’s kinda cute, though you wish he’d stop with the self-flagellation.
“It’s all good,” you find yourself whispering, tone soft, genuinely trying to comfort him rather than just wanting to get it over with. “I didn’t mind.”
The kiss that follows is sweet, soft. When his tongue brushes against yours, it sends shivers all the way down your spine. You’ve long known that Chan has that kind of effect on you.
You’re just not quite ready to grapple with that right now.
“I mean, we both know we can fuck whoever we want,” you add with a vague shrug. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you being around Mido all the time either.”
“Um,” Chan says, “I don’t— I mean I’m not—”
Fuck it. He’s just too cute. The way he blushes, the way his ears turn red… You just cannot resist the urge to push yourself on your toes to bite gently at the lobe, enjoying the way his whole body shakes at the sensation, before pressing a kiss against his temple.
“Right,” you purr. “You’re only fucking me.”
You might take a little too much pleasure when you say it, if you’re being honest. It’s not purely sexual, too, but you’re choosing not to unpack that right now either. Instead, you find Chan’s mouth, press yourself closer to him, let your tongue run over his lips before he eagerly meets it with his. His left hand comes up to tilt your head back, calloused fingers pushing against your jaw. Despite yourself — because the gesture’s too gentle, too intimate — you raise a hand to cover his, entangling your fingers with his.
His following exhale sounds ragged, painful maybe.
Then he’s grabbing strongly at your waist and suddenly you’re the one with your back against the wall, and he’s pushing his thigh between your legs, spreading them open.
“Fuck,” you hiss.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
Gosh, you need him to worry a little less and to start taking responsibility for what he’s doing to you.
“Need you inside me,” is your answer. “Now.”
And that asshole has the gall to shoot you a grin, lifting only one corner of his mouth.
“I might as well make this last, right? Since I’m only fucking you.”
You want to pout, but it’s really fucking hard to keep control over your facial features when he flexes his thigh and it takes all of your willpower to resist rolling your hips and starting to ride him. You will not be giving him the satisfaction.
…not just yet anyway.
Since two can play that game, however, you trace your fingers up his muscular thigh, watch his expression shift from amusement to anticipation as you get closer and closer to his hard cock, now clearly outlined through his pants.
“C’mon, Chan,” you plead, something you’re not above doing, as you easily unbutton his jeans, “you know you want it too.”
Your lips ghost over his neck as your hand makes its way past the band of his boxers and wraps around him, with a little satisfaction coming from the fact that he’s not just hard, he’s also already dripping precum. He groans at your touch, and you grin — though, if you were thinking about previous encounters with him right now, you’d know it’s still too early to claim victory. Your grip remains light, your hand movement slow, tantalizing but nowhere near enough to bring him release.
“I really, really,” you press your thumb against the tip of his cock, rubbing it gently, with more intensity, just so he knows what you could do if he just let himself give in, “want you inside me.” This time it’s more of a whine that he lets out, his breath coming out in tense huffs as he rests his head on your shoulder, and you think you’ve got him right where you want him.
But then he lifts his head and meets your eyes, and you immediately know you’re going to have to wait.
“Where would the fun be in that now, love?”
It’s not the pet name that sets your heart in a frenzy. It’s not. It’s his tone, how warm his eyes are, the anticipation of the pleasure that’s to come.
It’s not the pet name.
“Think you keep standing for me?” he asks you, voice low and rumbling. You blink at him.
“What—”
Then he drops to his knees.
“C’mon, love. When have I ever let you down?”
Ohhh. You think you’re going to really, really enjoy what he’s planning for you.
He takes his sweet time getting on with the program, though. His hands start on your calves, slowly making their way up your legs, and it takes everything for you not to plead with him, again, to get moving. You’re dripping wet for him by now. Your legs are starting to feel weak under you, but it’s too early to give in.
Chan’s large hands reach your thighs, his touch setting your skin on fire with every brush. When he presses a wet kiss against the inside of your thigh, so close to where you actually need him, you let out a whine. You feel him grin against you, but he keeps going, slow and steady, inching closer and closer. He easily lifts your dress up, pushing it up over your stomach so it’s out of the way. By then, you can actually feel his breath against your pussy, and you’re so fucking sensitive in that area right now, you think you’d kill to feel his tongue on you.
But he’s not done yet, no, that would be too easy. He slides your ruined panties down your legs, even when you whine for him to just leave it, it’s fine, and wraps a hand around your ankle to make you step out of them.
Then he kisses the inside of your thigh, again, and your patience runs out. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull on it, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind him of where his attention should be.
That asshole has the nerve to laugh at that.
He gives you what you want right after that, though. He closes his mouth around your clit, and you throw your head back, loud moans spilling from your lips. You’ve never been one to believe in restraint, and if anything, Chan loves how vocal you get. You’re rewarded by the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on you, and all you can do is hold on to him for dear life, your other hand trying to find something to brace yourself on and coming up empty.
“Fuck, Chan,” you whimper.
“If that’s too much for you,” he says, pulling away, “I can always—”
You guide him right back between your legs. And he gets back to work.
If there’s one thing you have to give to him, it’s that he never half-asses anything. His tongue dances sinfully on your skin, his teeth graze against your folds, tantalizing, and you’re reduced to moans, whines, and desperate pleas for more — you have no idea what it is you want, but Chan knows exactly what you need. He’s already got you crying out his name in a broken litany when he pushes two fingers into you. They slide right in, and you gasp for air, briefly falling quiet at the pleasure.
Your knees give in under you, and Chan catches you just in time.
“You’re all good, love,” he praises you as he lifts one of your legs. “Just hold on a little longer for me, alright?”
There’s something about him talking to you like that, about the kind warmth of his words, that turns your insides into jelly. So all you do is nod as he helps you hook your leg over his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks you, still taking the time to check up on you even though he should know by now that he’s the best lay you’ve ever had.
As an answer, you use your heel to push him back into you. Once you’ve got his mouth and his fingers back on you and in you, you let yourself drown into the pleasure. Because, fuck, having Chan’s undivided attention, having him eating you out like a starved man while his fingers curl inside of you, sliding in and out with a slow rhythm — if this isn’t what heaven feels like, you don’t think you want it.
Your legs start to shake as your orgasm approaches. By the time you cum, with a loud, high-pitched cry, Chan’s hand under your ass and the leg you have over his shoulder are really the only things keeping you upright. He doesn’t let you go for one second, allowing you to move your hips to ride the wave of your orgasm, even if it’s just little jerks of your hips, because you have zero control of your body right now.
You’d hate that on any other occasion.
Right now, you don’t mind.
You feel yourself slide to the floor as you slowly regain your brain cells. Chan’s still all around you, his heat, his arms, cradling you while you come back to your senses. He rubs your back, mumbling praises into your ear, and it’s good, it’s so fucking perfect, but you need— you can’t let this go that route, not just yet. He already knows you get a little cheesy towards the end of the night, so that’s fine, but it’s too early to succumb to that.
“Wanna move this to the room, or do you also want to fuck me against the wall?” you ask him, turning your head so you’re facing him.
His nose brushes against yours. It’s funny, after everything he’s just done to you, that this still gets him to blush.
“R—” He clears his throat. “Room. I’ve got— I’ve got condoms in there.”
He gets up and pulls you back up to your feet with ease, which, damn, you know he lifts, but it’s still impressive. You let yourself fall into his arms, enjoying a nice squeeze of his biceps while you get the chance. You need to get him out of his shirt, you remind yourself, and you immediately get to work on the buttons, tracing his skin with every inch you uncover. Goosebumps form under your nails, and a jerk of his hips when you brush over his nipple reminds you that he has yet to be taken care of.
Aw. You just can’t have that now, can you?
“Hm, I’ve been thinking we could try without that,” you say. Your voice comes out light, but you know that it’s not as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound. Chan tenses against you. Clearly, he realizes it as well.
“I mean I— I’d love to, but it’s—” His eyes are wide as he searches yours. You wonder if he thinks that was a throwaway line, something you said just to say something. Surely he knows that’s not the case. You’ve always been adamant about protection.
“I’m on the pill, I’m clean, I’ve gotten tested,” you shrug. “Are you clean?”
“Yeah, I am,” he nods, and it’s adorable how eager he is, “just— when— have you—”
It’s so obvious that he’s trying not to hurt your feelings. He should know that these conversations would never do that. That doesn’t stop a pit from forming in your stomach. What you’ll say next will change things. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but it’s been a long time coming. Maybe since the first time Chan gave in to his desires against his better judgment, maybe since the first time your eyes met.
“It’s all good, I haven’t been with anyone else for a couple months,” you say.
Chan freezes. You can only imagine what’s going on through his mind right now, but you— can’t have that. Not right now. So, of course, you have to defuse the situation. You grab his chin, smile seductively at him.
“Why would I when I have the best right here?”
All you know is that after that, you crash through the door to Chan’s room, and he throws you onto his bed while he practically rips off his shirt and pants. You push yourself up on your elbows, but you don’t have the time to take off your heels or your dress before he’s kneeling between your legs, spreading them open. He’s not playing games anymore, there’s no playfulness in his eyes, just hunger — and maybe the tiniest speck of uncertainty.
So you reach for his face to kiss it away, soft and gentle, and for a second, he melts into you. As you move away, you keep your forehead pressed against his, and he exhales a trembling breath.
Neither of you says a word. The moment passes.
A second later, he plunges into you with one harsh movement of the hips and you fall onto your back with a cry, arching against him. Feeling him for the first time without anything between you is… different, for sure, but it’s a good different, fuck, it’s so perfect that you don't think you’ll be able to go back on that. You have no way of knowing what’s going on in his mind, but you do hear him moan once, loud and without restraint, before he falls into your arms as his hips start moving with an animalistic pace. You grab onto him, nails digging into his back — this is going to leave a mark for sure, but you kind of like the idea, so. Now you regret not having taken off your dress, because you’d love to feel him against you. There isn't much space in your brain for those thoughts though, not when the pleasure is so overwhelming.
You’re still all sensitive from your orgasm, and Chan’s fast thrusts into you only heighten the sensations. Soon, warmth is building up into you again, but Chan’s showing no signs of slowing down. His head’s buried in your neck, his hands clutching the sheets on either side of you. When your legs start shaking with a second orgasm, all you can do is let out desperate moans while he keeps fucking into you.
“You feel so fucking good,” he moans again, which is uncharacteristically vocal of him — and fucking hot, by the way. “So good for me.”
“All for you,” you whimper in response. “Just for you.”
You reach for his face, kiss him, tongue messily intertwining with him.
He comes inside of you without a warning, just with a long, low groan, before collapsing on top of you without even pulling out.
“Shit, sorry,” he mumbles after long, blissful seconds. “Did you not want me to—”
“You’re good,” you interrupt him before he can start freaking out. “Just— Think you can carry me to the bathroom?”
“Of course,” he replies. Then, voice lower, barely above a whisper, “Anything for you.”
You used to have this rule against staying the night after sleeping with a guy. Felt it made them act all territorial, and you liked doing the walk of shame in the middle of the night better than at dawn, if you had to choose. But it’s different with Chan. It’s always been different with him, no matter how hard you try to deny it.
You slip back into the bed after cleaning yourself up, and he wraps himself around you, body slotted together perfectly.
“That my shirt?” he asks as he presses a kiss against your neck.
“And your boxers,” you inform him. “You mind?”
“Nah. It’s kinda hot, that’s all.”
You grin, twisting yourself around so you can get another kiss from him, and he indulges you, not leaving you to wait for even a second. Neither of you adds anything, and you settle yourself comfortably for sleep.
It’s obvious what’s going on between the two of you, what this is all leading up to, even with you not putting words on it just yet.
All in due time, as long as you’re by his side.
Last part of this, and another one where the couple is one I've had in mind for a while lol. I'd headcanon that in the morning, the reader joins the commity that's organizing the festival and is weirdly good at it bc she actually goes to a lot of festivals (she's mostly doing it to ensure that Chan isn't overworked tho). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the series, if you want to give feedback, reblog or comment, I'd be super grateful, and I'll see you for future works!
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