#Lee chan imagines

[eomayas]

10 minutes • lee chan [req]

pairing: idol!chan x f!idol!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!

synopsis: you and chan messing around before a performance

warnings: p in v, unprotected s*x, fingering, finger sucking, dirty talk, chan calls reader a ‘slut’ once, choking

a/n: hehe thank you for the request and i’m sorry it took so long! i hope you like it :) also idk why i always want chan and reader to get caught whenever i write for him…

“what if we get caught-ah!” you moan when chan sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the skin before running his tongue over the mark that is definitely going to be there in the morning. chan has you pinned in the bathroom of the music show building. you can hear people walking by, and the threat of getting caught is slightly thrilling but mostly terrifying.

“so what?” he mumbles, hand slipping up your skirt. chan drags his mouth down your neck to your exposed collar bones and hikes your left leg up on his hip, his hand gripping your thigh.

at his words, you tip your head back and thread a hand through his hair, consciously encouraging him to keep going even though you really should stop. “we could get in trouble,” you gasp out when he backs you up against the bathroom sink. “channie, do you hear me?”

“mhm,” his hands push the neck of your top down and he kisses the tops of your breasts. “take this off, yeah?” he says, pulling back from you, his hand absentmindedly stroking the back of your thigh.

you guffaw at him. “did you not hear a word i just said?” but you’re moving to pull your top off over your head. it’s hard to resist chan, especially when he’s in one of his moods.

“so what if we get caught. isn’t that exciting?” his hands fly to your back to unhook your bra, smiling once he slides your bra off your arms and your breasts spill free.

“no, it sounds terrible,” you say, jumping up onto the edge of the counter. chan slides closer to you and takes a nipple into his mouth, thus eliciting a sigh from your lips. “chan, really. we could get caught.”

“just be quiet,” chan mumbles around your nipple, his teeth grazing over the puffy peak and making you tense up. you let out a quiet moan when he swirls his tongue around your nipple, his other hand groping your other breast. one of your hands flies to hold the back of his neck against your chest.

“channie,” you breathe, leaning back to rest against the mirror. chan pulls back from your chest, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your breast. he checks his watch and cocks his head to the side, eyes flicking up to yours.

“we only have ten minutes, maybe we should stop,” chan says, a sarcastically sweet smile on his face. you nearly lunge at him for suggesting such a thing even though youve said it twice already.

“w-what? no!” you sputter, panties damp and core aching for him. “finish what you’ve started!”

chan raises his eye brows in amusement, hands pressed over your knees as he leans towards you. "what about getting caught?" he asks, lips brushing against yours. you grab one of his wrists and place his hand on your chest and make him squeeze your breast.

"focus," you say, other hand pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. chan doesn't resist, placing his mouth on yours in a sloppy kiss and skating his other hand under your skirt, dragging his fingers over your panty clad cunt. you push your tongue into chans mouth and tighten your hand against the one that is on your chest.

chan pushes your panties to the side and drags a finger up your slit, applying light pressure over your clit. when you twitch at his action, does it again and again until you're panting against his mouth. "please," you breathe, gasping when he dips a finger into your tight hole.

"use your words," he says, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. you cant your hips upwards, allowing him more access to you and showcasing how much you want him right now.

“i need more, channie,” you whine, shamelessly groping your own breast. you run your fingertips over you sensitive nipples, sighing and lolling your head to the side. it takes chans brain a few seconds to rewire as he watches you feel yourself up, eyes glazing over as you tweak your nipple, and he pulls his finger out of you to rub at your clit. he revels in how you hiccup out his name, moaning at the feeling of your fingers on your sensitive peaks and him against your clit.

a breathy whimper of his name brings him back to the present, reminding him that he has less than ten minute to have his way with you. without much warning, chan shoves two fingers inside of your sopping hole and curls them upwards, eliciting a gasp from you. “i promise i’ll fuck you if you can cum on my fingers first, baby,” he goads, his free hand loosely wrapping around your throat as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you whimper against his mouth and pinch your nipples for stimulation. chan scissors his finger inside of you, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. chan pulls back from your mouth and kisses against your chest, moving down to suck on your nipples again when you move your hand.

dropping your hand between your legs, you rub fast circles around your clit using your arousal as lubricant, as chan keeps fucking his fingers in and out of you, slipping in a third. “you’re so wet,” he groans, briefly pulling back from your chest. you only pant, felling the familiar tightness in the bottom of your stomach.

chan applies more pressure against your throat when you whine exceptionally loudly, seemingly cutting your cry of his name short and making your cunt pulse around his fingers. your eyes widen, and chan almost mistakes it for him going too far until your eyes roll back and your core pulses around his fingers.

your juices gush out onto his fingers, coating his hand in your cum and coating your thighs. chan grows painfully hard in his pants, nearly whimpering with sheer desire and need. he wants nothing more than to get on his knees and taste you, to eat you out until you’re cumming on his tongue, but there’s a time constraint and his cock is rock hard.

“fuck, that was hot,” he breathes, capturing your lips in a rushed kiss. chan pulls his fingers out of with reluctance, and pulls back from your mouth. “open.” he says.

obediently, you open your mouth and wrap your lips around his fingers when he shoves them into your mouth, lightly pressing down on your tongue. you moan around his fingers, hand gripping his wrist tightly. “fuck.” chan whispers, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper with his free hand.

a dark patch on his underwear is hard to miss. chan unabashedly fists his cock, biting down on his teeth. you pull your mouth off of his fingers with a ‘pop’, saliva stuck to your lips.

chan helps you off of the counter and spins you around, pressing you down towards the sink and pulling your hips down to him. you grip onto the sides of the counter and watch him in the mirror, eyes following his every move. chan flips up your skirt and pulls your underwear down just underneath your ass before pushing his briefs out of the way.

stealing a glance at his watch, he finds that he barely has six minutes to get you off again. he doesn’t waste another second, gripping your hips tightly and shoving his cock forward into your awaiting hole. you gasp, mouth dropping open.

a loud whine ripples from your chest when chan bottoms out quickly. his hand flies up to your mouth, seemingly covering it up to quiet you down. his bottom lip is drawn in between his teeth, his eyes trained on where he disappears inside of you, while you stare at him through the mirror, eyes low as he rams his cock inside of you.

chan makes the mistake looking up into the mirror, groaning from the back of his throat when he makes eye contact with you. you run your tongue over his fingers, and he sticks his middle and ring finger into your mouth, hooking them against your bottom row of teeth. “fuck,” he moans lowly, cock twitching as he watches you suck on his fingers again.

you still whimper around his fingers, lurching forward each time he plunges into you. “i’ve been waiting for you all day,” chan grunts, hips rhythmically slamming into your ass. the slaps echo off of the bathroom walls, and it turns him on at the thought of someone finding the two of you like this. “such a little slut, sucking my fingers like it’s my cock.” he rasps. your tongue twirls around his fingertips greedily, exactly the way you do when you’re blowing him.

chan drags his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your saliva down your chin and neck until he wraps his hand around your throat again. time is running out, and he’s nearly ready to fall apart inside of you but is determined to get you there first.

applying more pressure than the first time he had his hand around your throat, chan nearly pulls his cock out of you all the way, before slamming back into you. you gasp out his name, airways getting closed off in a way that makes you drunk on him. he knows you’ll tell him if it’s too much, will stop in an instant if you say so. but you take it, all of him, with his hand wrapped around your neck.

fire burns at the base of your stomach and your cunt pulses around him. you blink back tears that form from over sensitivity from his cock hitting that soft and spongy part inside, paired with hand on your throat. you can feel your orgasm creeping just around the corner and choke out a cry of his name. “t-too much!” you gasp out.

chand grip on your neck lessens and he opts for grabbing onto your chest instead. you moan out his name, rocking onto your toes and squeezing your eyes shut, knuckles turning white from how hard you’re gripping onto the counter. “i-i’m close,” chan manages, rolling your nipple between his fingers. you whimper and try to tug yourself away from him, legs shaking and body buzzing at the beginnings of your orgasm. “don’t run.” he grunts, hips losing rhythm and bucking into your aching core.

“b-baby!” you stammer, gasping as you fall forward and clench around him, cumming around his cock. your eyes roll back as your head falls forward, and chan tips your chin upwards so he can watch you fall apart through the mirror. it triggers his own release, his hips stilling inside of you as he shoots ropes of his cum into your warm pussy.

“sh-shit,” he pants, letting your chin fall so he can catch himself against the bathroom wall. cum drops down your thighs despite him still being stuffed inside of you. “we gotta go.” he breathes, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. you hardly make a sound, still hunched over the sink and eyes still closed. chan rubs your back and peppers kisses across your skin lovingly.

you remind yourself that you’re on a time crunch to bring yourself back to reality. slowly, you lift yourself up and meet his eyes in the mirror. chan smiles at you softly before leaning over your shoulder to pull you into a soft and slow kiss. “let’s clean up,” he murmurs once you break apart, pulling out of you with a whimper. chan grabs a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and wipes you off first, quickly cleaning you off and tossing the wad of napkins in the trash.

next, he cleans himself off in a rush and grabs any loose clothing, handing you your shirt while stuffing his cock back into his jeans. “i’ll see you later?” he says, giving you one last kiss, bracing himself against the sink.

“mhm,” you say, shirt clutches against your bare torso. chan smiles at you, pecks your lips one last time, and slips out of the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft ‘click’.

you redress and wipe yourself down one more time, using wet paper towels to wipe off any dried cum from between your thighs. your underwear sticks to you uncomfortably, but there’s not much you can do about that, though it does remind you of the time you and chan just shared. smiling to yourself, you fix your hair as best as you can in the mirror and take a deep breath.

opening the bathroom door, you peak your head out and glance each direction quickly. when you don’t spot any immediate threats, you walk out of the bathroom just to be stopped in your tracks. a few feet away, just out of your vision behind the bathroom door, stands chan and two of his bandmates. you make eye contact with a smiling dokyeom and pray he doesn’t connect the dots.

unluckily for you, his smile falters as his eyes dart from you, to chan, and back to you. you burn bright red, cheeks and neck on fire with embarrassment. “did you guys f-“ dokyeom is cut off by the shout of your name.

“y/n! shows starting!”

[pepperonidk]

baby blues || l.c

pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader warnings: reader goes by mom, chan refers to himself as daddy (as a joke) word count: 1321 summary: starting a family is scary, but it's less scary with you by Chan's side

a/n: this is a loose prequel to my last Chan fic, the kids are alright, but can be read as a standalone as well!

main masterlist || taglist

“Are babies supposed to be that small?” Your husband’s hushed voice whispers from beside you. The feeling of his breath against your ear sent a tickle down your spine. You held your breath as the small bundle in your arms shifted and cooed in her sleep.

“Yes,” you breathed out. “It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed and pressed a kiss to your temple. “We made that.” He pulled you closer into his side and wiggled a finger against your baby’s fingers. Her hands opened and wrapped around his reflexively.

“Hi Jia,” he cooed. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was strained and you turned to see tears brimming in his eyes. The sight alone was enough to send you to tears yourself but you fought them back to enjoy the moment instead. 

“Jia,” you whispered to her. “Do you want your daddy to hold you?” you looked up to see Chan slightly panic as you shifted to try to move her into his arms.

“No, no,” he dismissed. “You can hold her for now, honey. I read somewhere about a critical period for her to imprint on you.” You chuckled and reminded yourself to ask about where he read that from, but tonight was the first time it was no longer just you and Chan, but a family.

The two of you had been prepping intensely for months, reading every parenting book you could get your hands on, diapering so many watermelons, anything you could do to feel like you would know what to do once the baby came. But nothing could have prepared the two of you for the reality of holding your real life child in your arms.

Or at least you couldn’t. Chan had yet to hold the baby in his arms. He was able to get away with it during the first couple of nights at the hospital because the doctors and nurses had her in and out constantly. But now… the three of you were finally home and Chan had nowhere to hide. 

It didn’t take long for you to notice his hesitation once you were alone. It was pretty obvious as soon as he brought the car carrier down from the car. Rather than setting the car seat down then unbuckling her and taking her out, he brought the carrier all the way to the nursery and set the whole thing in the crib.

“Uh, honey,” you chuckled from the door. “The baby carrier doesn’t go in the crib.”

“Right…” he sighed. He quickly turned to you and shooed you away. “I’ll get her out, just get into bed, you should rest while you can, babe.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you decided to walk into the room and towards a panicked looking Chan. he was dressed in his sweatpants and the same hoodie he’s been in since you went into labor a few days ago. His hair was going every which way and a stress pimple had begun to form at the tip of his nose. He looked ethereal.

He ran a hand through his hair and you could see his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “No rest for the wicked?” he joked as you shot him a glare. Rather than reply, you reached down into the crib where Jia was asleep in her carrier. You undid the buckles and carefully pulled her out, careful to place a hand behind her neck to support it. She stirred for just a second before letting out a tiny baby yawn that made your heart do flips. You pulled her close to your chest before turning back to your husband.

“Spill it, Chan,” you coaxed. “Why don’t you want to hold your daughter?” You raised an eyebrow at him as he let out a sigh and sat on the plush armchair beside the crib. You rocked Jia against you quietly as you waited for his answer.

“I’m scared,” he answered sheepishly. 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Scared?” you echoed back to him. “Honey, you’ve read every book on parenting, you’ve watched all the mom vlogs, and I’m pretty sure you can diaper anything in existence. What are you scared of?”

“She’s real,” he said exasperatedly. “What if I drop her? What if I mess something up and it scars her for the rest of her life and she ends up having daddy issues so she hates men and then she spirals and then–”

“Woah, woah,” you interrupted. “I think you’re spiraling, babe.” You let out a quiet laugh and sat on the armrest beside him.

He looked at the baby who was snoring softly, swaddled tight in your arms. He looked envious of your position and it made your heart ache. “Chan…” you called his name softly. “You’re not going to mess her up, and if you do… thankfully her memory won’t really kick in for a while.”

Chan groaned at your response. “That’s so helpful, babe,” he pouted. “I’m serious.”

“I am too,” you smiled at him. “Babies are tougher than you think, and you are gentler than you think. And you are going to be an amazing father.”

“How do you know?” he asked quietly.

“Because you care so much already,” you replied, leaning down to press against his temple. You stood to return Jia back to her crib before Chan reached up to tug at your shirt. 

“Wait,” he called. “I think I can do this.” He was more confident now.

“Good,” you replied. “My arms are getting tired.” You smiled at him and leaned down to hand Jia over to him. “Just get your arms ready and make sure the back of her neck is supported by your arms,” you instructed.

He did as you told him and she slid into his arms easily. Her brows furrowed for a second as she adjusted before she nuzzled further into Chan’s arms. You heard him sigh in relief. 

“See?” you chimed. “Not bad, right?”

“This is nice,” he agreed with a bright grin. “Now go get some rest for real, babe. Daddy’s here.”

You cringed at his words but nodded anyway. “Alright, ‘daddy,’” you teased with a yawn. “Good night, honey.” You leaned down to give him one last peck on the lips and a kiss on Jia’s temple before heading to your bedroom. You plopped down in the bed and slipped under the covers, reaching over to turn on the baby monitor on your nightstand.

You smiled to yourself as you heard Chan’s soft voice come through the fuzzy speaker.

“Hi baby,” he cooed. You could see over the screen him holding Jia’s hand in his and cooing down at her. “I’m your daddy, or papa, or appa, or whatever you decide to call me. I can’t wait for you to start talking so that you can tell me which you prefer.” 

You chuckled softly at his words. “But for now, I think this is fine,” he continued. “Did you know I was scared of you just 5 minutes ago? I guess that goes to show how badass you are.” He looked up for a second, startled for a second. “Am I allowed to say that?” he asked himself.

“Don’t tell your mom I said that,” he shushed conspiratorially. “You and I are gonna be best friends, and I can’t wait for all our adventures together. I have so much to share with you, but first, I’ll show you a song my mom used to sing to me when I was a baby.”

Chan began singing a soft lullaby, and that was the last thing you remember before you drifted into a deep sleep… which only lasted an hour or two before Jia started crying. “Honey?” you heard Chan call for you over the monitor as well as through the wall. “I think she’s hungry.”

You got up with a small yawn, tired, but excited to take care of the family you had.

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

[toruro]

— ✧ cry for me

i want you to cry, cry for me (twice)

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!

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.”

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)

[seungcheorry]

silently eating breakfast with dino after fighting the night before. your couch is a mess with the covers and pillows he used to sleep, as you both refused to sleep on the same bed.

the cereal in your bowl doesn't look that good, but dino devours the one on his. he steals some glances at you, from time to time, but is scared to talk to you - are you still upset at him? cause he knows he ain't upset at you anymore.

dino sighs out of relief when you ask him if he's finished and if he would like to talk (he very much does).

[wheeboo]

run to you | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k

notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3

Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"

"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"

Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"

Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.

"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"

"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"

Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"

"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."

"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"

He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."

He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.

All he could think about is you.

Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.

Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.

The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.

He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.

Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.

The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.

"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."

He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.

"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"

You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.

"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.

He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.

You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."

Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."

You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."

His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"

His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.

"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.

"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.

Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.

"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.

He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.

"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."

You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.

"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.

The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.

You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.

As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.

The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.

He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.

You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.

"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."

He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.

He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.

It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.

He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.

"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."

The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.

"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"

"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.

"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.

"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."

The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.

Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"

"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"

Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.

His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.

But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.

Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.

When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.

"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."

"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."

"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.

You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."

Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."

another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom

[hoshifighting]

Seventeen reaction, when you do something that turns them on while you ride them, making them cum really quickly.

HipHop team | Vocal team | Performance team

Junhui

the sensation of his cock sliding into your wet pussy sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. your hands gripped his shoulders as you rode him.

but it was when you leaned in to suck on the lobe of his ear that junhui's reaction took you by surprise. he let out an embarrassed laugh, a mix of pleasure and surprise dancing in his eyes as your lips teased his sensitive skin.

the unexpected sensation was enough to push junhui over the edge, his release coming faster than he had anticipated. with a strangled groan, he spilled himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.

covering his face with his hand, junhui's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment. he couldn't believe he had cum so quickly, all because of your teasing.

amused by his reaction, you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, a playful smirk dancing on your own. "looks like i found your weak spot," you teased, your voice filled with satisfaction.

Hoshi

today, the sex was rough, your hips humping hard on him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis in a frenzy of pleasure.

but then, on a whim, you raised your hand and delivered a sharp slap to his cheek. hoshi's reaction was immediate, a loud moan escaping his lips as he arched his back, his desire evident in every trembling muscle of his body.

"again," he pleaded, his voice thick with need as he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes.

you obliged, delivering another slap to his face as you degraded him for enjoying it. with each slap, hoshi's moans grew louder, his arousal pushing him closer to the edge.

and then, with the third slap, hoshi came undone beneath you, his release crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy. he whimpered like a good slut, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.

shocked by the suddenness of his release, you paused, staring down at him in disbelief. "hoshi, are you okay?" you asked, your voice filled with concern.

hoshi nodded, his cheeks hard red with embarrassment. "yeah, i'm fine," he replied, his voice slightly breathless.

Minghao

you couldn't help but let your hands wander to your breasts as you rode him. with delicate fingers, you circled your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

minghao watched with rapt attention as you squirmed on top of him, the sensation of your touch on your sensitive nipples driving him wild with desire. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release as he struggled to maintain his composure.

but when he saw you teasing your nipples, his resolve crumbled. with a strangled groan, he spilled himself inside you, his release coming faster than he had anticipated.

as minghao closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his composure, you couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of his arousal—the redness creeping up his neck and ears.

teasingly, you asked, "do you like this?" before pinching on your nipples, causing minghao to furrow his brow in shame.

"stop," he pleaded between moans, his voice thick with desire and embarrassment.

but you couldn't resist pushing his buttons a little further, circling your nipples again as you teased, "are you sure?"

minghao let out a desperate whimper, his hips bucking involuntarily as he tried to hold back his moans. "please," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

with a playful smirk, you relented, ceasing your teasing as you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his lips.

Dino

chan's hips, his cock buried deep inside your dripping pussy, you couldn't resist the urge to tighten your grip around his neck, cutting off his air supply. chan moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he struggled against your hold.

with each thrust of your hips, chan's arousal grew, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he neared the edge. and then, with a strangled cry, he came undone beneath you, his release flooding your pussy as he filled you with his cum.

feeling him twitch and throb inside you, you couldn't help but squirm with pleasure. but as chan's breathing steadied, you couldn't resist teasing him.

"poor channie," you cooed, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "cumming so fast with just a little teasing."

"fuck you," he managed to grit out between heavy breaths.

raising an eyebrow at his response, you grinned mischievously before resuming your movements. you rode him hard, reveling in the sensation of his oversensitivity. chan's hands gripped your hips tightly, his back arching as he tried to keep up with your relentless pace.

[wondernus]

˗ˋˏ THE FIANCÉ ˎˊ˗ | Masterlist

synopsis: a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowhere. and an upcoming wedding on the line. there's only so much you can take before you let your perfect future crumble before your eyes.

pairing: lee chan x pi cheolin x reader

genre: romance, humor, mystery | mini smau series

tags: established relationship, live laugh love pi cheolin, cheating is brought up but chan doesn't cheat, food

taglist: closed

started: jan 16, 2024 - mar 25, 2024

message from nu: another hehehaha unserious idea sparked from a melatonin-induced state of being. maybe I will start writing smaus again if my schedule permits it. dedicated to my beloved @bitchlessdino 🤍 wishing you all the happiest new year - nu ♡

wondernus main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE (END)

Copyright © 2024 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝙗𝙖𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! [1𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇]

synopsis: you and your boyfriend have been working nonstop. performances on his end and endless meetings on yours. when you both finally get a break, he proposes you two get away for a few days. little do the both of you know that this “baecation” will provide physical, emotional, and sexual healing.

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! chan, non-idol! chan (professional dancer! chan), vacation/baecation getaway, lots of teasing, lots of dirty talk, lingerie on reader, hotel room sex, balcony sex, pool sex, basically chan and reader are just horny lovebirds

notes: WOW BESTIES 1 FREAKING THOUSAND OF YOU HERE AT DIRTYSVTHOUGHTS!! 🥹 never did i ever think this account would grow this much, but you all made it possible! thanks for reading, liking, reblogging, sending in asks, and everything in between! i hope you enjoy this *slight* self-indulgent work! oh to be fucked by boyfriend chan in a dimly-lit hotel room with rose petals..

———

this work will be released in three parts (w/ an epilogue) !

pt. 1 - the destination

pt. 2 - the arrival

pt. 3 - the heated night & the morning after

———

if you want to be added to this work’s taglist, please fill out this google form here!

———

teaser (547 words) - thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta reading!:

you can’t help but stare in (happy) shock as your eyes take in the sight before you, after chan removes his hands from your eyes. there were rose petals scattered across the floor and your bed and champagne chilled in an ice bucket. the dim lights created a sexy ambiance with the last bits of sunlight dimming over the horizon - the large, wide glass windows casting the most beautiful view that you would never forget.

chan stands behind you, rubbing your hips as he hold you by your waist, his smile forming against the shell of your ear as he kisses it, and laughing as he gently sways you side to side. your body is engulfed in his, the warm, familiar sensation of his embrace pleasantly taking over your body.

“chan, what’s all this?” you asked amazed, especially at how much he put into this setup.

“this,” he whispers kissing your temple, “is for you. you’ve been working so hard baby, and now it’s time for you to be rewarded.” you look into his eyes as he holds your jaw, fingers delicately adorning your face. there was something in the air uniting your both - was it love? sincerity? adoration? whatever it was, nothing else mattered in the world right now except you two.

“i love you so much, baby,” he kisses your nose softly. “i know this isn’t a lot, but-”

you silence him with a deep kiss and you turn your body forward so your hands could hold the nape of his neck. your tongues dance together in passion as chan pulls you even closer, bodies and the room temperature heating up with your intensity.

you pause and separate momentarily, ragged breaths filling the space. “chan.. this is more than enough,” you sigh lovingly. “we could’ve stayed at home and i would’ve been more than happy - just being with you is all i need.” you can feel your eyes starting well with tears but you try your best to hold them back.

“i love you so much, chan.”

this time, he starts another passionate kiss. he reaffirms his hands on your waist as he places open mouth kisses on your lips. he walks both you towards the bed and unties the robe you had on, revealing the sheer black rose-decorated lingerie set and garter on your body.

chan whistles as he takes in the sight of you, stunning as ever. “shit,” he whispers, “all dressed up for me like the pretty girl you are..”

you smile as you bring his hand for your waist to your chest, letting chan feel you up as your bite your lip and whimper, his soft hands causing your nipples to perk up. you’re close enough now that the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed. he gently lays you down and climbs on top of you as he kisses your neck. his long fingers toy with your panty line, the motions sending shivers down your spine.

“mmmm, my channie,” you moan out blissfully as his fingers begin to enter your dripping core. “more, please give me more,” you whine out as he continues to press his lips against your body, wetness continuing to gush from inside you as his lips move down your body.

[horangghaez]

“can’t keep you off my mind” - lc

pairing: lee chan x fem!reader genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slight(?) smut wordcount: 1,1k synopsis: your best friend chan called you while drunk so you could come over to hear him yap about a “problem” of his. little did you know, some confessions were spilled. warnings: alcohol consumption, heated make out, chan being a total simp a/n: i got this idea while rewatching this iconic dino live🤩 hope you enjoy🫶🏻

masterlist

It was late at night when you were lying in bed looking at your phone. As you were watching a video on Youtube, it suddenly paused on its own and a call popped up.

“mr gillette”

A smile always appears on your face when seeing that contact calling. But this time, you raised an eyebrow. Why was Chan calling you at such time? You picked it up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Y/N~” he giggled

“Chan what’s going on?”

“Can you please come over?” You could hear the pout in his voice

“Chan, it’s literally 1am”

“Pretty please! It’s urgent”

“Are you okay?” Worry filled your voice

“I don’t know? I guess? I’m just confused. But I really need you please, I’ll send you an uber so you won’t have to walk”

“You’re scaring me.. but okay..”

“Thank you!” He said joyfully

You hung up the phone as you got up from your bed still confused but mostly worried. He didn’t sound very normal. His voice was rather… muffled?

You tried ignoring your thoughts as you put on some sweat pants along with an oversized hoodie that was coincidentally stolen from Chan.

Chan texted you to let you know that the uber had arrived at your apartment as you opened your door to leave.

About 15 minutes later, you were standing in front of the door that led to Chan’s house. You rang the bell and almost immediately, the door was opened with a wasted Chan standing against it.

“Hey~”

“Chan, you’re freaking drunk?”

“No, I’m fine! Just had a glass of whiskey”

“You sure it was just one?”

“Positive”

You looked at the young boy in disbelief as you sat down a chair near the couch

“What was so urgent that you had me step out of the comfort of my home?”

“Okay look,” he started as he sat down the couch across from you

“,so there’s this girl..”

The word girl felt like a knife to your chest. You weren’t so fond of having to come here at 1am but now you surely weren’t at all if you have to listen to Chan talk about a girl.

“and I just can’t move on”

You just nodded

“So, I went out with another girl today, to at least try to get over her but it was humiliating” He said while hiding his face in his hands

“Why?”

“Not only was I unable to get over her, I called the other girl by her name, was constantly comparing the girl to her and ended up getting slapped”

You were stunned by his last words

“You were what?! Are you at least okay now?”

“I guess” He scratched the back of his head

“So?… Who’s this girl you’re going crazy about?” He didn’t give you an answer. He leaned back on the couch and stared at you

“Sit on my lap”

Your eyes widen at his sentence

“What?”

“You heard me”

“Chan you’re drunk.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Chan—“

“I’m not gonna repeat myself”

At that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting up and slowly approaching Chan. You wanted to stay at your seat but your legs didn’t stop moving towards him. You noticed his lips forming a slight smirk. When you were standing in front of him, his arms wrapped around your thighs as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Come on sit”

Steadily, you put one leg next to his thigh and the same from the other side and sat on his lap. Chan then hugged your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck making your breath hitch.

He slightly laughed “Hey is that my hoodie you’re wearing?” You slowly nodded making him grin

“So… what did you ask me again?”

You couldn’t find yourself to answer. The tension between the two of you was too much for you to talk.

“Hmm?”

“U-Uh..”

“I can’t understand you Y/N~”

“I asked who the g-girl was..”

The silence was loud after your sentence until Chan talked

“You”

Your breathing stopped. You felt like you were about to burst. You felt like you were dreaming. What the heck was in that whiskey?

“W-What?”

He removed his face from your neck and turned to look at you.

“I can’t keep you off my mind”

You were in disbelief. Someone be quick and pinch you and prove this is a dream.

His palm met your cheek as he brought you closer and closed his eyes

“Kiss me..” he exhaled

At that moment, you didn’t know what had gotten into you but you grabbed his face and closed the space between your lips.

He returned the kiss immediately, hands around your waist pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangled in his soft hair. The kiss soon heated up as your tongues were fighting for dominance. After what felt like forever, you were torn apart from each other. Chan stared into your eyes and then to your red plum lips.

“Is this the right time to say I am in love with you? I can’t look at anyone else the way you make me look at you. You make—“

You shut him up by smashing your lips against his. “Don’t talk”

He did just so as his hands went to the hem of your (his) hoodie and pulled it off you, leaving you in your tank top as he kissed you again. You felt like you were in heaven. His lips moving in sync with yours and you were soon taken on cloud 9.

The soft light of the sun peeked through the curtains and into your eyes making you slowly open them. You looked around and found yourself on Chan’s couch, resting on Chan’s chest. Flashbacks from last night came back making you blush.

You looked up to Chan who was already looking at you

“Y-You were awake?”

He hummed in response

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a light headache” his voice deep from having just woken up

“You.. You don’t remember anything from last night, right?

He chuckled “Of course I do,”

“How could I forget the best moment of my life” He then pecked your lips making you hide in his chest trying to hide the redness on your face, causing him to laugh.

His arm was around your shoulder when he pulled you closer

“If you don’t become my girlfriend now, I may or may not unalive myself.”

“I don’t want you dead so sure, I will be your girlfriend”

Your answer made him giggle as he pulled you on top of him and hugged you tightly.

“Love you”

[mingtinys]

gym partner lee chan

pairing : lee chan x gn!reader

fluff , humor , headcanon

warnings : mentions of food

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : gym dino has been on my brain for the past few days and i needed to write something

gym partner chan who asks you to hold his feet for situps just so he can kiss you between reps. then will expect the same when it's your turn. he calls them fuel for the next rep. who absolutely will spend 80% of the workout just chatting with you if you let him. and you do, because his voice is one of your favorite sounds and it makes the time breeze by.

gym partner chan who forgets to bring his own energy drink and ends up downing 60% of yours. despite you only offering a few sips. who is an absolute monster when it comes to lifting but nearly passes out three minutes into the stair climber. griping on and on about how the days you choose the workouts are pure torture. though, you've been known to say the same about his insane arm circuits. so putting in each other's least favorite workouts has become a vicious cycle of payback for the previous week.

gym partner chan who once dropped a weight on his foot because he was too busy staring at you in the mirror. having accidentally zoned out mid-set because he gets so mesmerized watching you. entranced by how your skin glistens when sweaty and your athletic wear clings to your body. so caught up in his daydream of kissing you the weight slips from his hand and bam. 25 pounds straight to the foot.

gym partner chan who purposely takes his shirt off to benchpress to show off his chest and arms, hoping you'll stare. and then teases you relentlessly for oggling at said chest and arms. even though it's totally just because you're spotting him. where else are you supposed to look!? gym etiquette and his safety are your number one priorities. it's not your fault his muscles just happen to be right there in full view. and you're certainly not one to complain about what others choose to (or not to) wear in the gym. really. it's totally innocent.

gym partner chan who has learned your limits. he knows exactly when to push you to work harder and when to make you take breaks. always so gentle and encouraging. reminding you to drink water and that you're doing well. who takes his job as your number-one hype man very seriously. never missing a beat when it comes to cheering you on. or commenting on how hot you look. who at times can be a stickler about technique. but only because he doesn't want you to injure yourself.

gym partner chan who likes to cling to you throughout the session no matter how much you complain about not needing his excess body heat when you're already sweaty. he takes immense joy in sneaking up behind you and pulling you into a back hug. lifting you up and spinning you around just to show he can. who, unprompted, will massage your sore muscles if you look particularly tense (only to turn around and ask you to get a knot in his back). any reason he can find to be touching you, he will.

gym partner chan who is incredibly tentative when you're having an off day. he will stop what he's doing in a heartbeat if he sees you getting frustrated or overwhelmed. because he knows you've set high expectations for yourself, but some days it's okay to take it easy. who lifts your chin and makes you look in his eyes while he tells you how amazing you are with a sweet voice. then makes you repeat it back to him for good measure. who cooks a post-workout meal with you, ensuring you eat well after working so hard.

gym partner chan who cherishes your post-workout naps together on the couch. the ones where he gets to let his body relax in the comfort of your presence. utterly exhausted, but in the best way possible. feeling both accomplished and deserving of the rest. his arms tightly wrap around your waist as he clumsily pulls you to lay on top of him. the ache in his muscles melting away with the warmth of your body against his. your gentle kisses against his jaw ease him to sleep. all the while knowing that there is simply no better feeling than moments like these.

taglist: @dontwannaexsist

[atinystraynstay]

Play Nicely - Lee Chan

Synopsis: "I got a preview of what it would be like not to be yours, and I hated it so much."

Pairing: Idol! Dino x fem reader

Genre: PG-13 - slight angst, slightttttt smutttt if you squint, jealousy ft. The8, established relationship, possession

Word Count: 2.1k

Dino wasn't used to sitting on the dance floor, being in charge of the music. He was normally the one in front of the mirror, learning the choreography. This time around though, Dino had to take the backseat in order for Minghao to practice the choreography for his upcoming music video.

He was in the midst of preparing for his newest solo single. It was a bit sexier of a concept compared to Hai Cheng released last year. This time around, it had a heavy influence compared to the group's Light A Flame number. Minghao wanted to step out of his comfort zone, to show off his full range of dancing capabilities especially now that his collarbone has fully healed.

Being the good friend that you are, you volunteered to help Minghao with the choreography. By no means were you a professional like the rest of the group, or really like any extra the company could have hired. However, you wanted to take a challenge. You've always been curious about the world of dance, especially after watching Dino command the stage with his capabilities.

Minghao was ecstatic about the opportunity. Not only because he could take his time since you were helping as a friend, but he felt more comfortable doing the dance with someone he knew. This style of dance was newer to him as a solo performer, so being able to do it without feeling like he was going to waste someone's time really benefitted his learning process.

Dino was also very blessed to see you step up to help one of his friends. The maknae was a bit hesitant to introduce you to his friend group. He knew his members could be intimidating but also knew he was often subject to most of the teasing. Not always, but most of it when Mingyu was MIA. He just didn't want to give them anymore ammunition or have you dragged into it.

It brought him great joy to see how easily you were accepted by the group. Sure, there was some teasing here and there. However, his 12 brothers were just pleased to see their youngest happy. That is all they wanted for him anyway.

You were wearing a blank tank top, your hair pulled back into a high ponytail. You were also wearing a pair of black leggings. Your facial expression showed you were relaxed. Maybe the two of you should take dance classes together? He was intrigued by the opportunity to see you dance, wondering what you were capable of.

"I'm just afraid of making a fool out of myself," Minghao explained. He ran his hand through his hair as he stood before you.

Being the comforting friend that you, you placed your hands on Minghao's shoulders. Staring into his eyes, you smiled gently. "You're not going to make a fool of yourself. You're one of the best dancers I know, Hao. We'll practice for however long you need so you can feel confident." Minghao smiled at you, nodding at your words

While Dino knew the interaction was innocent, he couldn't help but feel the sting in his heart. One of the best dancers you knew? What about him? He bit his lip as he stood up straighter. He could out dance Minghao if given the chance.

The rehearsal started lighthearted. Minghao was showing you the basic dance moves and keeping enough distance, so you could learn through trial and error. The three of you would laugh at the moments of awkwardness. it helped you feel at ease to be out of your element. It was such a lighthearted environment.

"Why don't we try it this time with the music? I think you got the basics of the dance down now, y/n!" "I can also pause it if you need to go over the steps again," Dino reminded.

You looked excited to try it with the music, and Dino and Minghao wanted to help you keep that enthusiasm. They were honestly grateful you were willing to help out, but wanted to keep it fun for you as this was a new experience.

However, once the music began to play, the mood shifted. it went from innocent and playful to seductive and intense. The track was a bit deeper than Seventeen's more lighthearted, poppy sounds they've been doing over the past few months. Quite frankly, it screamed sex appeal.

Dino has never wanted so desperately to pause the music, pause the intensity between the two of you. But he didn't want to be selfish.

Realizing where he was, he let out a sharp breath through his nostrils. He did his best to compose himself, not wanting to make a scene especially when he was with you and one of his best friends. He had to control himself. Neither of you were doing anything malicious, nor would you ever. You loved Dino too much to ever do something so careless whereas Minghao had too much respect for your relationship and the two of you as people.

Dino was just starting to realize maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

His blood boiled as Minghao's eyes were trained on you. You were able to capture the attention of everyone in the room. And honestly, Dino loved watching you thrive and flourish in anything you did. You could just be cooking up lunch for the two of you, and he was always left speechless.

Internally, he knew he should be grateful that his best friend was looking out for you. You meant the world to each member, especially since they knew how happy you made their maknae. And Minghao was doing everything he could to make sure you didn't get hurt while dancing.

It just wasn't far that Minghao got to be this close to you when that's all Dino was craving. He was craving the feeling of your body heat against his. He wanted to stare into your eyes until the world stopped spinning. And honestly, he wanted to be the first and only dance partner you had.

As the song played, Dino's jealousy just grew. Minghao guided you in where to place your hands, how to move your hips. It made Dino's mind fuzzy as he remembered all the things your body was capable of, how good you could make him feel. But he was seeing red as he watched Minghao maneuver you around, how your hands trailed his body.

The ending post is what drove Dino feral. Your back was fully pressed up against Minghao's chest. Your head was tilted back to face him thanks to the light hold Minghao had on your neck, his thumb on your jawline. His other hand rested on your hip, close to your upper thigh to keep you close.

The only sound that filled the air as the music died out was the sound of you two breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling. Dino was only used to that sound when it was the two of you in his bed.

Sensing eyes burning through him, Minghao looked over. He was about to ask for Dino's opinion but froze when he saw the glare Dino held. It was so unlike his younger member, so he was a bit surprised. Yet, he was intrigued to see how else he could push his buttons.

Leaning in close to you, Minghao whispered in your hear. He made sure he kept a bit of distance as to not overwhelm you, but give the impression Minghao was kissing your ear. Anything to drive Dino up the wall.

"Why don't we take a five? Give your lover boy a chance to breathe?"

You tilted your head in confusion before taking a look over at Dino. You've never seen him with his jaw clenched so tightly. You were afraid he was going to break his teeth with that kind of hold on his jaw.

Untangling your bodies, Minghao and you stepped away from with each other. Even though you were aching to know what was bothering your boyfriend, you were overjoyed with how well that first run-through went.

"I'm going to get us some water. Be right back," Minghao announced almost too happily.

I should have nothing to worry about. It's my best friend fulfilling his goal, but it just happens to be with my girlfriend. With his hands all over MY girlfriend. Fuck this.

Once you two were the only ones in the room, you turned towards your boyfriend. You couldn't help the gentle smile that tugged onto your lips at the sight of your pouty boy. Dino has always been seen as far more mature for his age, probably because he wanted to fit in with his hyungs since Seventeen's debut days. Yet, in this moment, he resembled a little boy who was not getting his way.

You were taking tiny steps towards Dino. You were convinced he hasn't moved an inch since rehearsals started. He was sitting up straight with his back against the glass.

"Have I ever told you I hate sharing?" He grumbled.

You giggled and shook your head. Your reaction caused Dino's scowl to deepen as his head shot up towards you. "Sorry," you whispered, apologizing for your reaction. You didn't want to just cast his feelings to the side. This was just a side of Dino you've never experienced before.

"Baby boy, you're not sharing me with anyone." "Damn right I'm not," he muttered.

Before you could even respond, Dino leaned forward to grab your wrists. You gasped lightly at the movement but allowed Dino to guide you in the direction he desired. He gently pulled you down so you straddled his lap. His knees propped up so you could lean back and rest against them.

Once you got situated in the new position, his hands let go of your wrists. Instead, they perched themselves on your hips to keep you secured on his lap. Your arms wrapped around Dino's neck. One hand resting on the base of his neck, the other on the back of his head.

"You only go home with me at the end of the day."

Dino didn't know what took over him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently at first against your neck. Your fingers gently running through his hair now, gripping slightly. The action caused him to growl against your skin, causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach. His lips were like a magnet to your neck.

"Don't ever think I'm willing to let anyone get that close to you again. You hear me?" The kisses were no longer soft pecks. They were open-mouth kisses that traveled up and down your neck, as if he was searching for it.

As his lips were right by where your jaw and neck connect, you felt your breathing hitch. You pulled yourself closer, unaware that the movement had caused you to rub against Dino's hardening boner. His teeth sink into your neck before he began sucking on it to ease the temporary ache.

He needed to get you home. Or at least somewhere where nobody could walk in on you two.

"You drive me absolutely mad, baby girl. I'm so lucky." "And I'm all yours," you reminded him again.

His mind got fuzzy at the softness of your voice. He squeezed your hips lovingly before letting his tongue glide over the reddish-purple hickey forming on your neck. Just one mark that would remind everyone who you belonged to.

"I guess I'm not filming dance rehearsal today," Minghao announced.

Hearing Minghao's voice, you blushed hard. You were going to move off of Dino, wanting to apologize for the PDA. Yet, Dino didn't let you move. If anything, his grip tightened on you to keep you planted on his lap.

Also so Minghao didn't see the boner that was becoming more and more prominent.

Dino slowly pulled away before looking over at his older member. His body was a bit relaxed even though he still wished he could swap places with Minghao in a few minutes. Minghao looked amused, not knowing that his younger brother could get jealous so easily.

"Sorry, Minghao," Dino chuckled. 'I just couldn't help myself." "You could have at least waited until rehearsal was done. At least you didn't make my dance partner too sore she couldn't move. I'd like to just finish and get one ore run-through down."

The two of you nodded, understanding Minghao's request. You were here to help him after all. Turning towards your boyfriend, you kissed his cheek lingeringly. You could feel his smile grow beneath the kiss. "We'll pick up later," you promised him.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As you pushed yourself up off of his lap, there was a loud gasp behind you. "Dude, you have a boner?! In our dance studio?! I'm going to have to bleach my eyes after this!"

And there's the normal dynamic Dino was used to.

[eomayas]

the boy is mine • lee chan

pairing: lee chan x f!reader, (new) established relationship

genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!

warnings: smut, pwp (kinda!), unprotected p in v (do not be like them), oral (m & f), fingering, dirty talk, use of the term ‘slut’ a lot but it’s ~endearing~, chan is super sweet and very in like with reader

a/n: unedited! chan has been clouding my brain bad!!!

the tension between you and chan was palpable—at least it felt that way. you wonder if anybody else could sense what was passing between the two of you, or if it was a secret that only the two of you were in on. whatever; either way you didn’t care. all you wanted was chan.

you cling to him, your hand wrapped around his bicep and head on his shoulder while he talks to seungcheol and minghao. seungcheol smiles at you two like a parent witnessing his sons first relationship, and each time you and chan do something cute, you catch minghao and cheol share a look.

it’s sort of how they all look at you and chan. most of it is because they think he’s a loser (endearing) and can’t really believe that he got someone like you to agree to date him. they think you’re cute and sweet, a bit innocent compared to their youngest member. they feel like they have to clean their act up when you come around, not wanting to taint your ears with unpleasant, male conversations.

if only they knew how you let chan fuck you stupid multiple times a week, to the point where you find is difficult to stand, or even look at him because you’re mildly embarrassed by how you acted like a little slut for him. oh well. they can believe what they want.

“yo, we’re about to start the movie!” soonyoung calls from the living room. seungcheol an minghao shuffle out of the kitchen and you begin to follow them until you’re tugged back by your boyfriend.

chan pulls you towards him by the waist, a small smirk on his face when you plant your hands against his chest. you look into his eyes and smile, heart beat getting faster by the second, and then place your lips on his. like most of your kisses, it gets heated quickly, tongues clashing and chans hands sliding down to grip your ass.

your body feels like it’s on fire, his touch searing and making you feel hot. if people weren’t waiting on you, you’d stay in this position all night.

pulling back, you gently bite down on his bottom lip, pointedly locking eyes with him. chan can’t help the blood that rushes to his crotch and the firm squeeze he gives your ass. “yo! come on!” soonyoungs voice interrupts the two of you and chan rolls his eyes extremely hard, making you giggle before you grab onto his hand and pull him out of the kitchen and to the living room where all 12 of his friends lay spread out.

there’s a space on the couch left open for the two of you and you both crowd onto it, chan sitting on the outside of you so you’re pressed against the arm. seungkwan clicks play on the movie and you curl up in chans side.

for the first few minutes of the movie, you and chan keep your hands to yourself, though the feeling of his weight on you is making focusing on the movie less of a priority. when seokmin gets up and comes back with a stack of blankets and tosses one to everybody in the room. the moment chan opens it and drapes it over the two of you, all resolve you once had shatters, now determined to sneak out of here and get him alone.

first, you innocently place a hand on his leg. he looked down at you and you give him a soft smile that ears you a kiss on your cheek. a few moments later, you move your hand up a bit higher, lightly brushing over his semi-hard dick. chan looks down at you once more, but this time you ignore him and play coy.

chan presses a long kiss against your temple, draping an arm around your waist and holding onto your hip. “channie, i’m tired,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. he locks eyes with you and you smile an all too familiar smile that makes him twitch in his sweats. “i wanna go to bed.” you fully palm him through his pants and he sniffs to mask the breath of air he sucks in.

seconds later, chan is standing up and announcing that the two of you are going to sleep, and all but drags you upstairs before you can say goodnight to everyone. jeonghan throws you a knowing look and your cheeks flush. there wasn’t a care in your body about who really believed what you and chan were going to bed, as long as you ended up in chans bed within the next few seconds.

once you get upstairs into chans bedroom, you’re all over him, hands sliding up under his shirt while you kiss on his neck. “needy,” chan breathes out a laugh and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small whimper when you suck a hickey onto his neck. you push his shirt up to signal him to take it off, and he pulls back to oblige.

his bare form is one you haven’t truly gotten used to; each time you see him like this you feel thirsty. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly working out, too. “you’re hot,” your murmur, dragging your acrylics over his toned abdomen. chan chuckles and grabs ahold of your face, pulling you into a heated kiss.

sliding his hands down your body, he gropes you in all the places that make you pant against his mouth. his lips never leave your mouth while his hands frantically try to tear you out of your shirt. “channie,” you breathe, lightly shoving him off of you to take off your top and subsequently your bra.

he’s back on you once you’re bare on top, pushing you down onto the bed and kissing every bare inch of skin. “channie, i need you,” you sigh, back arching when he suckles on one of your nipples and plays with your other breast. you tangle a hand in your hair, nails digging nicely into his scalp.

a trail of saliva follows chan when he pulls back from your breast. “yeah? you need me?” he asks patronizingly, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings and tugging them. you press yourself flat into the bed and spread your legs for him once your legs of material. “such a little slut for me.” he says, truly endeared by you.

“always,” you say, buzzing in anticipation. chan licks his lips as he looks down at your panty clad mound. dragging a finger down the slit of your covered core, he smiles when the material sticks to you. “channie.” you whine, opening your thighs wider from him, urging him to touch you.

“slut,” he groans, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his finger through your slick folds before dipping it into your hole. he slowly pushes it in and out of you, adding a second finger. “so wet. and all for me? it’s all for me, right baby?” he coos, speeding up his ministrations, biting his lip when you clench around his fingers.

“yes, channie,” you pant, chest rising and falling quickly. “oh.” he curls his fingers inside of you, your thighs closing around his his hand. chan forces your legs open and slips in a third finger, trying to thoroughly stretch you out.

clenching around his fingers, the sounds coming from you mouth increase from quiet whimpers to louder moans. it urges chan on, his goal tonight to get you to come once on his fingers, a second time on his mouth, and third time on his dick. he can tell he’s about a 1/3 of the way there with the way you suck his fingers inside and cry out his name.

his dick throbs in his pants, but he’s more concerned with making you feel good first, ever the pleaser. “you gonna come for me, baby? are you gonna be a good girl and come for me?” his voice is soft though firm. there’s authority in his tone and ever his good girl, you whine out a ‘yes’. “you can do it baby. you’re my good girl, right? my good, little slut?” his thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles against it.

your toes curl and your back arches off the bed at his words. your core pulses and chan rubs harsher circles against your nub, the stimulation causing your jaw to fall open. “ch-chan!” you cry, harsh pants leaving your mouth.

“that’s it, pretty,” he murmurs, a satisfied smile taking over his face as you unravel, your arousal gushing out onto his hand. “good job, baby. such a good girl for me.” chan pulls his hand out from in between your legs and sticks his fingers in his mouth, humming as he sucks your juices off.

you watch in mild astonishment, heat flooding your cheeks when he smiles at you. you pull your underwear off and toss them onto the floor below, your core fully on display for him. chan grabs your calves and drags you to the end of the bed and gets on his knees in front of you.

a whimper leaves your mouth when chan buries his head in between your legs, tongue flicking over your clit and licking up the rest of your arousal. he dips his tongue into your hole, dragging the muscle through your folds. “f-fuck!” you shriek, eyes squeezing closed.

chan keeps your legs open with just his shoulders, hooking his arms around your thighs to hold you down when you try to wriggle away from him. his tongue expertly licks your core, the sounds lewd and loud in your ears. “ch-channie, i c-can’t take i-it,” you cry out, thighs beginning to shake.

your next orgasm washes over you without much warning, loud cries of his name leaving your mouth. chan continues to eat you through your orgasm, vision going spotty from the overstimulation. “ch-chan, stop,” you pant, legs going limp against his shoulders.

arousal coats his face, his mouth and chin glistening in the light. you pant below him and he strokes your leg to bring you back to him. “baby? im right here,” chan says, voice soft. you keep your eyes closed but hold out a hand to him, which he grabs and kisses the back of. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”

the praise makes you smile and crack an eye open. the smile of your sweet, sweet boyfriend greets you and you can’t help but return it. “hi,” you say, voice scratchy.

“hey, beautiful.”

you tug him down to you and he braces himself with one arm, hand planted on the bed near your head. his strength turns you on, to say the least, and you pull him down to your lips by the back of his neck. you don’t care that he just are you out and you can taste it, all you want is him. you make out lazily and he lowers his hips to yours, his dick heavy against your inner thigh.

pulling back, you glance down to look at the tent in his sweats. “take those off,” you say, pushing at the waistband. chan stands and makes a show of taking off his sweats but leaving his boxers on. you scramble onto your knees and crawl over to him, hands flying to tear him out of the barrier.

“you really are a little slut,” he says, eyes darkening when you push his boxers down and grab ahold of his dick. “get down on your knees for me.” it’s a demand you have no problem complying with, quickly getting off the bed and onto the floor before him. he peers down at you and lovingly strokes your face before gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “suck.”

you take his dick into your hands, thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading the cum that leaks out, over the head. chan lets our air through his nose, heart pounding when you place a kiss to the tip. your eyes flick up to look at him and he twitches in your hand, his will power threatening to crumble.

the smile you give him is angelic. the way you take him into your mouth is nasty. the way you take him until you gag and tears prick in your eyes goes straight to his ego. “shit,” he pants, grip tightening on your hair.

he’s not even fully in your mouth, a little over half way, and you stroke what doesn’t fit. tears fill your waterline as you move him in and out of your mouth, cheeks hollowed as you breathe heavily out of your nose. chan groans above you, moaning out your name and calling you his good girl, his little slut.

he’s close and it’s evident in the way his knees buckle and how he catches himself against the mattress. you pull your mouth off of him with a pant, saliva dripping down your chin, mixing with a few tears that slip down your cheeks. you pant as your pump his shaft, playing with his balls to bring him to his release. “fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whimpers, hips jerking and eyes squeezing shut.

opening your mouth, you stick out your tongue and jerk his dick until he comes, cum shooting out onto your tongue. he aims to get most of it into your mouth, some getting on your chin and chest. chan squints down at you, whimpering when you close your mouth and swallow his seed. it’s not your first time and definitely won’t be your last, but he’ll never get tired of seeing you do it.

you wipe whatever up of his cum was left with your finger, and lick it off, not wanting to waste a drop. “need to feel you,” chan grumbles, dominant side melting as he pulls you off the floor and pushes you down onto the bed. he hovers over you and kisses you deep, holding his dick in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. “you’re so good to me.” his babbling isn’t new—he always gets like this at some point whenever the two of you have sex. you find it cute, especially when he tries to be rough with you.

a high pitched moan leave your mouth as he presses his head into you. “i’ve got you,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as he continues to slowly feed you inches. he kisses you to drown out your soft cries, and massages one of your breasts. you hold onto his shoulders, sharp nails digging into his skin.

once he’s fully inside, he gives you a second to adjust. your breathing is labored and you clench around him tightly. “fuck, channie!” you squeak, blowing out a breath. he rubs your hip and peppers light kisses along your jaw and face. “you’re so big.” you whine it like it’s a problem, but it’s a top 10 thing about him—it might be number 9.

chans previous demeanor finds him nearly as quickly as it left. “but you can take it,” he says, pushing himself up onto his hands. “you’re going to take it.” he starts out with shallow, slow strokes to ease you into it. “fuck, you’re so tight!” he grunts, hips starting to rock into you at a quicker pace.

“oh, chan!” you cry, fingers tangling into the sheets. his hips snap against yours brutally, the air leaving your lungs each time he pushes into you. “fuck, baby! harder!” you moan out, head spinning.

“harder?” he pants, hair falling into his eyes. you cry out when he pulls all the way out and slams into you, hands holding onto your hips tightly enough to bruise. “fucking slut!”

that familiar, tight feeling in your stomach builds. chan can tell by the vice grip you have on him and the way your face is screwed up in pleasure. he pants heavily, eyes trained on your chest as your breasts bounce each time he fucks into you. “i-im close!”

chan grabs one of your thighs and hooks it onto your hip, his thrusts slowing down only to become more pointed and deliberate, an ‘oh’ eliciting form you with each pound. “gonna come for me a third time, pretty?” his voice wavers as he talks to you, the grip on your thigh tight. “shit, y/n! fuck.” sweat slides down his temple and drips down to his chin and drops off to the bed.

“i-i’m coming!” you cry as you spasm around him, your third orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. your moans are loud, crude, and downright pornographic. anybody on the second floor is guaranteed to hear you by now.

your sounds blow up chans ego even more than you already have tonight, and soon he’s pulling out of you to release onto your stomach, praises falling from his lips. “fuck, baby. you’re so good to me. my pretty little baby,” he babbles, collapsing on top of you. you wrap your arms around him and squeeze onto him, lightly stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” he sighs, kissing your jaw.

“channie, i can’t breathe,” you say, pushing at his shoulder. he quickly rolls off you and lies flat on his back, his hand making his way to rest on your thigh. “channie.” you say softly, rolling onto your stomach and resting your chin on his shoulder.

he gazes down at you and chuckles, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. he knows that tone, knows that look and can see that you’re not done with the night. he sits up and grabs a pillow from the top of his bed and lifts you up by the hips, shoving a pillow beneath you.

“my good, little slut.”

[toruro]

— ✧ crybaby

a part of the crybaby series !

pairing. lee chan x reader

description. you've always had a tendency to cry over minuscule things and chan kind of hates it—he thinks it's irritating and immature and stupid. it also doesn't help that he's fighting off the feeling that he might be super into it, because that would just be scandalous, right?

genre. smut (18+), minor angst, fluff

tags. *smut tags under cut* tattooist chan, crybaby reader, use of alcohol & weed, brief descriptions of pain, unrealistic portrayal of getting a tattoo done but who cares, chan is kinda mean in this but he makes up for it promieee

w/c. 7.9k

✘ smut tags. dacryphilia, fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink, petnames (baby, good girl, crybaby), brief condescension

You’re a crybaby—there’s no simpler way of putting it.

Glossy eyes and sticky cheeks are no stranger to your everyday life. Your parents thought you’d grow out of it, even when the tears followed you through middle school and were the root of some fucking embarrassing moments in high school.

Surely university would change things. Surely it’d teach you that the big girl world has no room for your whimpers. Surely you wouldn’t end up crying to your childhood friends, Jeonghan and Jihoon, because you tripped over your own laces even now that you’re in your twenties.

You learn that the thing about being a crybaby is that you never really stop being one.

So yeah. Here you are, in your twenties, knocking on Jeonghan and Jihoon’s door, as you try to hold back the tears that threaten to spill because you tripped over your shoelaces in front of the lobbyman on the way up to their apartment.

You were supposed to meet up with them and a couple other friends from your little circle, but of course you just had to mess things up for yourself, silently reprimanding yourself for letting something as silly and stupid as this get to your head.

You’re expecting Jeonghan to open the door—he’s usually the one by the door—so it’s safe to say that you’re just a little surprised when you see Chan open the door.

Chan runs in your friend circle—he’s a good friend of Jihoon’s, so naturally you see each other often. Though, you wouldn’t exactly call the two of you close. Chan’s a bit … intimidating. Tight lipped and narrow eyes, he doesn’t speak to anyone much, let alone you.

That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy him; after all, Chan is a nice guy, and he’s patted your back and soothed your tears on multiple occasions before. You’ve had some fun conversations here and there, usually when you two are the first to get to a spot and sit and wait for the others to show up.

Chan is also … handsome. Intimidating and kind and handsome—an odd mix, really, but it has your gears turning whenever you’re around him, so rest assured you’re at least a little frazzled when he opens the door instead of Jeonghan.

He glances at you as you furiously wipe away your tears and frowns. “What happened?”

You choke out a small laugh as your breaths finally even out, shaking your head as you move to the side of the couch so he can have some room to sit. “Embarrassed myself in front of the lobbyman,” you mutter, finally letting your hands drop from your face and by your side.

Chan just hums and nods, not prying any further, telling you, “I’m sure he didn’t notice,” before stepping to the side so you can shuffle into the room. With burning cheeks, the two of you make your way to the living room, and you’re grateful that Chan was the only one to arrive before you, so the only others in the room are Jeonghan and Jihoon.

Jihoon catches the sight of your tear streaked cheeks faces first, sighing as you sit down next to him. You can tell he’s about to ask you what happened, but you hold up your hand to stop him. “Don’t ask, it was embarrassing,” you mutter, sinking into the cushions.

Jeonghan clicks his tongue but pats your head from the armchair next to the sofa as Chan sits on the ground across from him. The four of you fall into conversation pretty quickly, and you soon forget all about your stupid laces and stupid tears and laugh along with your friends as the others begin to show up.

It’s how it always goes: the tears and then the laughter that always follows. You’ve grown accustomed to it, and as you adjust to the so-called big girl world, you learn that if your habits can’t be dumped, you might as well learn to live your life around them.

Your friend Soyeon greets you at the tattoo parlor the next day. Smiling, she waves you down to her counter, peeling her eyes away from the screen to look up at you. “Hey,” she says with a smile as you adjust the bag over your shoulder. “Was waiting for you to finally stop by.”

You chuckle and shake your head, looking down. “I know, I know … I’ve been saying I want to get something done since forever but I just never had the time or the cash but I finally caved,” you explain.

Soyeon’s a good friend of yours, and she works as a piercer at the parlor by your apartment complex. You figure she doesn’t have any appointments now, which is why she’s working at the reception, and to be honest, you’re glad it’s her and not some stranger who’s helping you out right now.

“You short on cash?” she asked with a brow raised as she scrolls through the screen, presumably looking through appointments. You reach into your bag and hand her a paper of the design you want. It’s simple, and small, and she examines the image before nodding and handing it back to you.

You shake your head. “Well, I’ve been saving up to see TWICE, so I was just being cautious but now that I’ve got the tickets, I can breathe easy now.”

“Hmm, yeah that makes sense. If you’re still interested in a discounted price though, you can book an appointment with the apprentice.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Who?”

Soyeon chuckles, and points at the design on your paper. “You know, a new tattoo artist. Like, the one we got has been doing it for almost 2 years now so he’s pretty good, but it’s still lower cost than if you got this done with the regulars. And since you have a really simple design, you can trust that nothing’s really gonna go wrong.”

“Really? That’s great!” you say, bouncing excitedly as you nod your head before pausing. “Like, is there a chance it might go wrong?”

“Hmm, I doubt it. Our guy is actually great, and like I said, he’s on his final leg of his apprenticeship anyways so I’d be surprised if he messes this up, honestly.”

“That’s nice then, can you book me for an appointment with him?”

“Yeah sure,” Soyeon replies, scrolling through the computer before holding a finger up. “He should be free two days from now in the evening right before we close. That’s when he usually works, but he doesn’t have a booking for that day … does that work?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” you agree, and Soyeon smiles as she pulls out a clipboard and a paper.

“I’ll write you down for six then. Sign this waiver, and then just come in then.”

You smile and nod. “Sounds good!”

It’s the next evening, and you’re pressing your back into a wall wondering how you got yourself into this situation. One overly sweet drink in a cup held close to your chest, people dancing and playing games, talking and screaming over the loud music that blasts into your ears and straight down to your heart, you stand in a corner twiddling with your fingers.

you: hey where r u?  [8:43 PM] you: kinda worried … ur still coming right?? [8:45 PM] you: jihoooon hello? [8:50 PM] jihoon: hey i’m rly sorry [8:56 PM] jihoon: i can’t go today [8:56 PM] you: what why?? [8:57 PM] jihoon: i forgot i promised jj that i’d go over to his tonight [8:57 PM] jihoon: i’m rly sorry [8:57 PM] you: :/ it’s okay [8:58 PM] jihoon: sorry again [8:59 PM] jihoon: i know chan and jun are there, stick w them , i’m sure they wouldn’t mind [9:00 PM]

Fat chance with the latter, since Jun is in the corner of the room with a girl grinding down on him as they eat each other’s faces off.

you: yeah, i’ll just go look for chan [9:02 PM]

And that’s what you do, clutching the red solo cup to your chest as you let the situation sink into your skin. You’re a little upset, of course. Jihoon didn’t intend to flake on you, you know that for sure, but it doesn’t really help the fact that he still did it.

Needless to say you’re feeling … oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Not this again. No way you’re going to start crying in the middle of a fucking college party because one of your friends didn’t tag along. You’re not even alone—there’s that nice girl from your chem in the kitchen and she looks perfectly sober and ready to hold a decent conversation, there’s the goofy guy from your freshman orientation group smoking in a corner and you’re sure he wouldn’t mind catching up, and then your eyes land on Chan, relief hitting your body in recurring waves.

He’s on the couch, dark hair pushed back so they don’t fall over his eyes as he sinks into the cushions. He looks relaxed and calm, and looking at the joint that sits between his fingers, you have a feeling you know why. His other hand holds his phone, and under the glaring artificial light of his phone and the alternating colors of the led lights that train the wall, he looks handsome.

The tears that poked at your eyes just moments ago seem to die back down as you approach him, glad to see a much more familiar face—one that isn’t being sucked off by another girl at the moment.

“Hey,” you murmur, sitting down next to Chan on the worn-out sofa (you’re pretty sure you knocked over someone’s drink as your feet shuffle on the ground, but you’re a bit too much in your feels to say anything about it). You think you see Chan’s eyes narrow at you when he looks up from his phone, but you can’t quite tell.

“What’s up?” he asks, voice low and gruff as he looks back down at his phone. You remember Jeonghan saying something about how they played basketball together today so you think he’s just a bit, yet you can’t help but feel that ugly knot tie up in your throat again.

(Are you just oddly vulnerable in this moment, or does Chan look at you with something a little more demeaning than just fatigue?)

“Uh—” Fuck, there’s that stupid feeling in your throat. The one that, no matter how many times you try to gulp down, it comes bubbling back up hotter and harder to avoid until you feel your eyes sting and face grow warmer. You want to forget about Jihoon and his stupid text that you let ruin your night, and you want to tell Chan that you like his shirt because that might be the only thing that stops the hot drops from pooling in your lash line and—

“Are you going to cry?” Chan asks you flatly.

If your chances of crying were fifty-fifty one moment ago, they’re definitely one-hundred-to-one now.

“What?” All creaky and hoarse, the words come out as a strained whisper—Chan doesn’t even need to look at the fat tears that are already rolling down your face to know the answer.

You expect him to sigh heavily. To give you a ‘I knew it’ sorta look, but without the meanness. To pat your shoulder and tell you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Chan scoffs at you, and you come to the conclusion that this is easily the worst night of your life.

He could’ve stopped there. The damage was most definitely dealt and as you hold your breath and try to hold back the tears amidst the crowd (it won’t work, it never does, but you’d be a fool to not at least try), you hold onto what shreds of dignity you have left and hope he doesn’t continue.

Because again, Chan could’ve stopped there. He was right. Those five words made their point, and the grief stricken look on your face is enough to tell him that you’ve gotten his message.

Chan could’ve stopped, but he doesn’t.

“Seriously like—” he scoffs again, running a hand through his thick dark locks before shoving his phone in his pocket and turning to face you.

Oh.

There’s that face; eyebrows knitted together and jaw taut, a sharp gaze and lips almost curved into a sneer. Chan is annoyed, and he’s annoyed with you.

Oh.

You think you’d get used to it by now: the snotty tears and soft hiccups for air as you try to breathe in a room filled with so many people while feeling so alone. You guess the funny thing about being a crybaby is that no matter how many tears you waste, you’re always pushed back to square one after each time.

“—D’you ever not cry?” You think Chan intends for the words to come out as a mean joke, and through the wavering thoughts and emotions that flood through your brain and send a rush through your ears, you commend him: mission accomplished, because this is one hell of a mean, mean joke.

“Chan—” It’s a fruitless attempt, you’re starting to realize, to try and stop him.

“Like is there a single day that goes by where you aren’t bursting into tears over every damn inconvenience? Fuck, it’s so annoying.” He huffs loudly when your mouth opens agape but fails to let any words out, reaching for the joint that sits on the coffee table in front of you. Chan holds the roll close to his lips, not bothering to even glance your way as he inhales heavily. The blow of smoke from his lips moments later fogs between you two, and for a second you’re grateful that he won’t be able to see your face.

“If you want someone to wipe your tears like a baby, go look for Jeonghan or Jihoon or something,” he says finally, the smoke clearing up and fading into the crowd of people in the room. Chan leans back into the sofa, black shirt clinging close to his skin, and you can tell that this is his way of telling you to get out. “Whatever you do, leave me out of it.”

You think about Chan’s words more than you should, honestly. And you cry over it, of course. (When do you not cry about it?) You don’t tell Jeonghan or Jihoon anything about what happened that night, which is a first. Then again, it’s not every day that someone you’d confided in, someone you’d trusted, someone you’d cried to, holds an impromptu announcement of his irritation with you.

Jeonhgan would hear this and correct you, saying, “Channie isn’t annoyed with you, he just … doesn’t like how you cry often,” to which you would say that this is you! This is who you are and if Chan doesn’t like that, then he can’t ever like you!

Jihoon would hear this and tell you that Chan was just high off his mind, to which you would argue that words said under the influence always do wear a ring of honesty. They don’t bear the barrier of a filter that the sober mind does, and you would go even further to say that the words Chan spat at you that night were as true as they come.

Still, you try not to dwell on it, mainly because you fear you’ll cry if you think about it too much, and that would just be proving his point. Instead, you focus on your plans for this evening: getting your first tattoo.

It’s exciting, really, as you put on a cute skirt and simple top, skipping down the street to make your way to Soyeon’s parlor. Maybe this is a new phase of your life, you tell yourself as you slip into the parlor. It’s quiet, and you recall your friend telling you that she booked your appointment near closing time.

“Hey!” she greets you happily when you walk through the door. “You look cute.”

Smiling bashfully, you look down at the outfit. “Yeah, thanks,” you reply with a giggle.

“You excited? You’re getting your tattoo cherry popped today, right?”

“Yeah! I’m a little nervous, but I’ve also been really wanting to do this for a while,” you admit.

“That’s great to hear … the guy who’s doing your thing is just cleaning up his area, and he’ll take you to his room in just a sec …”

There are a few thudding footsteps that you hear in the distance, and when you see who approaches from behind Soyeon at the counter, your heart drops.

Of course. Of fucking course.

“Hey Chan, you ready to take her to the back?” she asks, turning around to face the one person who you’ve been trying so damn hard not to think about. Clad in a tight fit white t-shirt and dark jeans, Chan looks up from his phone, eyes landing on you in an instant.

The evening sun beams on his skin and for a moment he glows. The memories of the night before flood back to you though, and suddenly it all seems dull.

“Uh …” It seems he’s just as surprised as you, and you can only thank the gods that Soyeon is looking at him instead of you, because god knows that he is doing a much better job at hiding it. He nods his head, near-black hair wisping over his forehead as he gestures to a room in the far end of the parlor. “Yeah, everything’s set up, so it should all be good now.” Fuck, how is he able to act so normal?

“Okay great, you two can head on back there. How long you think it’ll take?”

Chan shrugs—he’s too nonchalant, and you can’t seem to read him. “Uh, like an hour. I can close if you want.”

“Nah, it’s chill,” Soyeon replies. “I gotta stock up on some packages anyways, so I’ll be here for a while.”

Chan nods, and then for the first time he meets your eyes. “C’mon,” he waves you over when he turns around, and silently you follow him through the hallway and to a door near the back. “Didn’t know tattoos were your thing,” he says as you walk into the room. The walls are light blue and most of the equipment is dark and steel—it feels sterile, and the cold distance between you and your friend (?) is not helping to ease your nerves.

“They’re, uh, just something I’m trying out. Th-this is my first one.” Shit, this is so awkward.

Chan only hums and nods, closing the door and walking over to a desk space on the side that’s littered with equipment, ink, a laptop, tissues, a couple bottles of god knows what, and some papers.

“This is what you want?” he asks finally, breaking the heavy silence as he holds up a stamp with the printed shape of a crescent moon.

“Uh—yeah,” you say quietly as he gestures towards the chair beside him.

“Cool. It’s simple, so it shouldn’t take more than an hour with all the prep and clean up,” Chan tells you when he sits down on his own swivel chair next to the larger stationed one where you’re perched by. He moves back and forth as you settle down, and he soon brings over the temporary tattoo to your arm. “Show me exactly where you want it.”

It’s a few moments of you two going back and forth, pressing the stamp over different areas of your arm before settling it on a spot just above your elbow that you like. The setting is … oddly professional, although you’re not sure if you’re happy or upset about it.

Chan and you are friends—at least you thought you were until last night—so now you wonder how things would’ve gone today if he hadn’t been honest with you last night. Would you have sat in this same chair, laughing along to jokes or catching up on your lives? Would you have voiced your nervousness, and would he have comforted you?

You don’t know, and you realize that you’ll probably never find out.

After the final position is chosen, he transfers the stamp onto your skin to create the temporary template, cleaning the area on your arm and disinfecting his needles in the process. He doesn’t really talk to you, only letting a few words slip to let you know what he’s doing, and what he’s going to do next.

Are you overthinking things? This is a purely professional setting so there’s no reason for either of you to bring up what happened last night, and Chan’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in your feelings anyways, so maybe you should let this all go.

Your mind fills with a race of thoughts despite your desperate attempts to tell your brain to shut up, and so naturally you find yourself fidgeting in your seat.

Chan watches you from the corner of his vision. As much as he hates to admit it, there’s something … endearing about the way you squirm in front of him. It sets his heart ablaze when you avert your gaze every time the two of you make eye contact, and Chan isn’t quite sure if it’s because he wants you to hold it or if it’s just because he finds your apprehension irritating.

“We’re gonna start now,” he says finally, slipping on two black gloves and holding up the buzzing tattoo pen. “It’s gonna hurt and all, ‘m sure you know,” he hums, holding your arm and scooting forward in the rolly chair so his face is dangerously close to yours. “Let me know if you want a break, yeah?”

Strictly professional, you remind yourself when you nod, helping him adjust the angle of your arm for his ease. Taking a deep breath, you watch carefully as Chan holds the need close to your skin.

It’s a small pinch at first, and then it burns. You bite down hard on your bottom lip and press your eyes shut tight as you silently curse yourself for not preparing yourself any better for this before. Oh well, there isn’t much backing out of this now.

You aren’t sure how long it lasts, and you choose to look away because actually seeing the needle pressed against your skin makes you feel a bit more dizzy than you’d like. You enjoy the few moments where Chan takes a break, fixes something with the gun, before going back in with a few short and warning words. It’s after a few moments that the pain returns, and you slightly jerk as an instinctive reaction.

“Calm down.” Chan’s voice is deep and low, but you can hardly hear it through the rush in your ears when a hand presses over your thigh. Fuck. Fuck. Why is his hand so warm? Is he burning or are you burning and—fuck. It’s so big, and splays over the plush of your thigh so nicely and— “I can’t do this if you keep fidgeting.”

“S-sorry,” you reply quietly, peeling your eyes away as he lifts off his hand. You’re half convinced there’ll be a burn spot in the shape of his hand from where it was placed. You two are awfully close, and if you weren’t so fucking vulnerable right now you might have basked in the pretty view that is his face.

Chan feels your tears first, hears your soft sniffles second. Dropping onto his forearm that sits under your face, when he glances up at you, you’re already wiping them away and turning to look at the wall on the other side.

There it is again. That weird feeling in his chest that he always gets when he sees you tear up, and now more than ever, Chan wonders if it’s something more than discontent.

“Sorry,” you whimper, biting down on your bottom lip hard. Fuck, this is embarrassing. You can feel the burn of his eyes on you, and you’re growing more and more impatient as you wait for him to turn away. It’s a heavy few moments, although it feels like hours until he finally lifts his hand off your thigh.

“It’s okay,” he finally says, his voice lower and quieter than you expected. “Is it the pain?”

“Y-yeah,” you admit bashfully once the tears have finally stopped falling. “I have a low pain tolerance but I thought I’d be able to handle without—”

“It’s okay,” he says again, and his tone is surprisingly soft, forcing you to look down at him as he holds your arm gently. His brown eyes are wide and kind—has he always looked at you so fondly? “Calm down, we’re almost done.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly, and Chan senses the anxiousness in your voice. He battles himself in his mind, before telling himself that if he doesn’t give in now, he might regret it forever.

“Here,” he murmurs, easing one hand onto your lap. “Hold my hand.”

“W-what?”

“Hold my hand,” Chan repeats, a little bit firmer, but he still shyly averts his gaze, as if he too is aware of how out of character this is. “And, uh, you can squeeze it when it hurts.”

Steadily, you nod, slotting your hand into his. A perfect fit, you both seem to think as he encases his fingers around yours, but neither of you comment on it as Chan brings up the needle to your arm again, pressing it to your skin.

You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s holding you now, or because of the sheer intensity in the way he looked at you, but the tense knots in your muscles seem to relax even though you’re in pain. Tears prick at your eyes once more, but this time you make no effort to wipe them away.

You whimper a few times, and you swear on everything that Chan grips your hand a little tighter, but in your dizzy haze you can’t quite pinpoint why.

It’s a bit of a roller coaster for Chan himself. Your hand is just so … cute in his, and the soft sniffles and cries that he thought he loathed are making him second guess everything he’s ever thought about you, and as he’s finishing up drawing the little moon on your arm, he’s hit with epiphany.

Chan never hated you, and he never hated your tears. When you shift under him, press the pads of your fingers into his palm and knit your eyebrows together in an attempt to keep quiet … Chan fucking loves it.

Whenever he saw you in tears, he never hated you for crying, he hated that you were crying for any reason other than him, and he hated how you went to Jeonghan and Jihoon to wipe your tears away instead of him.

It’s a sickening thought, really, that he let those venomous words pierce your skin the night before instead of realizing his own fondness for you. His fondness for the flush of your cheeks and the pout of your lips, your fidgeting figure and wide, glossy eyes.

“Almost done …” he mutters, and it only takes two more minutes before he lifts the needle and looks up at you, still clasping your hands together.

“Is it done?” you ask meekly, tightening your grip on his fingers as you anticipate your answer. When Chan nods up at you, he watches your shoulders deflate in relief, and the light that overtakes your tear streaked face sends his heart in a frenzy.

“Just gotta put the ointment and wrap.”

You chew on your lip, and Chan thinks he might just pass out. “Is it gonna hurt too … ?”

“A little, but then it’ll feel really good,” he says honestly, giving your hand a light squeeze before letting go and taking his gloves off so he can grab some stuff from the table. You miss his warmth, but wonder if it’s for the better. Chan may be acting rather … lovingly right now, but you also never noticed his irritation with you earlier, so you don’t think you can really trust your senses.

You watch him bring out a tube, pushing out a clear ointment onto his fingers before bringing it up to your hand and smearing it over your skin. You make a disgruntled sort of sound when he does, unaware of the initial sting it came with, quickly pressing your lips together when you realize Chan is still here.

He hums, not looking up at you but still murmuring, “Good job,” as he slides the ointment over the little symbol. “So good for me …”

Fuck, this is so dirty. It’s so dirty and so sexy, and even though every bone in your body is telling you ‘no! no! no!’ you can’t help but let the little depraved whimper that escapes your mouth at the praise. Chan hears it, and he definitely feels your desperation in the air. It’s suffocating in the best way possible, to say the least.

So, to test the water, he eases one hand back onto your thigh, slightly close to your knee as he uses his other hand to pull out the clear film. “It might hurt while I put it on but it’ll feel good afterwards, ‘kay?” And when his voice is so tender and sweet, how can you do anything but look at him shyly and nod, bottom lip clasped between your teeth.

As he places the sheet over the fresh tattoo, he lets his hand inch up your thigh. Your arm stings as the film sticks to your skin, but none of it compares to the flame he lights across your skin with his gentle touch.

Oh. Oh.

This is real. This is happening.

“Chan,” you whine, and then Chan knows it in his bones.

“Does it hurt?” he asks innocently, smoothing his fingers over the film to make sure it sticks before turning his attention to the hand back at your thigh. It’s awfully close to the hem of your skirt which is already ridden up to the max, brushing dangerously close to your core.

“Not really,” you murmur, finally meeting Chan’s gaze. He’s still sitting down now, right by your chair and head a bit under yours so you can see the white light reflect against his brown eyes as you both sit in the silence.

You could hear a pin drop, and the only thing you’re focused on is the shattering touch of Chan against you, so when he whispers, “You okay?” you know he’s asking something else. Is this okay?

When you whimper as his hand slips beneath your skirt, Chan gets his answer.

“Quiet baby, quiet,” he shushes, lips ghosting over your arm as he presses a thumb against your clit roughly, toying with the nub through your panties. “‘m gonna take care of you, but you gotta be quiet, okay?”

“S’hard Channie,” you whine before slamming a hand over your mouth. “Don’t think I can …” Chan gives you a warning look before sighing and starting to gain speed.

“Soyeon’s gonna hear you,” he murmurs, rubbing circles over your panties as he starts to stand up. It has your vision going blurry—the way his fingers are so methodical and his gaze is intense on your form as he now looks down at you from above.

You don’t even have time to think about what this moment means for the two of you because Chan is leaning down and using his unoccupied hand to grab your face, smashing your parted lips against his. 

You kiss him sweetly, and Chan feels himself melt right into your touch with the way your tongue plays around shyly with his. Holding one of your cheeks, he feels the moistness of your tears under his touch, only fueling his vigor as he licks into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he hums against your lips as he pulls away, grazing his fingers over your clothed cunt. You jerk against him, using one hand to grab his firm bicep, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Channie,” you pout, swiveling your hips in the squeaky chair as you chase for more relief. Chan hums, leaning down to graze his teeth over your neck before biting down lightly. Mewling at the pleasurable sting, you sink your nails into his arm tighter as you feel a warmth boil in your tummy.

“Promise you’re gonna be quiet, baby,” Chan murmurs into your skin as he peels your panties off and to the side of your slick core, exploding the fluttering folds to the cold air of the room.

“I—” you hiccup of your own moan, a few stray tears falling when Chan eases one finger into your pulsing cunt, his thumb still toying with your clit, “—I promise,” you tell him, as quietly as you can when you blink up at him.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters when you whimper as he slips in another finger, finding a rhythm when he fucks them in and out of you at an increasingly fervent pace. They’re long and thick, finding all the spots inside of you that have you writhing in his chair, curling his fingers into them until you’re biting down on your lip so hard you might have drawn blood.

Chan watches you carefully as a fresh mark blooms at the base of your neck, a filling sense of pride overtaking him when he sees your own tears fall on the mark. “Fuck,” he groans, drinking in your choked moans that break free, despite your obvious attempts to keep quiet. You’re trying so hard for him, it’s admirable and fucking adorable. “Crying already?” he croons, starting to grind the palm of his hand against your clit in tune with the swiveling of your hips.

“C-can’t help it,” you whimper, digging your face into his chest as a futile attempt to calm down your breaths even as you approach your inevitable high. “Feels s’good,” you confess bashfully, pulling away so you can crane your neck up to look at him.

Your lashes are stuck together and your under eyes are shiny, and Chan doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything hotter. His jeans feel ten sizes too small with the way his hardness is pressing against them, and he aches for nothing more than to stick it in and fuck you until you don’t know how to cry about anything but him.

Fuck, he’s in deep. So, so deep.

Here you are, panting into his chest as he finger fucks you into oblivion, whispering words of endless praise into your ear—the two you of don’t know how things ended up like this, but you’re sure neither of you are complaining.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine, thankful that his shirt muffles at least some of the noise. If Soyeon were ever to hear this, you might just have to never speak to her again. “Fuck, I’m so close Channie.”

It’s the way you call for him—Channie—so sweetly and with such mind numbing passion that Chan starts to lose control. He told himself he’d take his time with you, working you up to a heavy orgasm but you’re already muffling sobs into his chest and he hasn’t even stuck it in yet. It’s a sight too pretty, too cute, and Chan can’t help but indulge in you, speeding up his fingers until you let out a squeak and more tears, cunt pulsing and clenching around his fat fingers.

“There you go, baby,” he praises, curling his fingers into all the right spots as you grow limp beneath him, sobbing through your orgasm. “There you go, fuck yourself on my fingers … feels good right? Made you feel good?”

“Good,” you slur, body drifting back so you lay against the headrest of the chair, Chan’s fingers still inside of you as overstimulation replaces desperation. You look at him as if he holds all the answers in the words, shiny eyes that are blown out, sweat stuck to your skin so it makes you shine and fuck, Chan thinks you look so sexy. Legs spread and skirt ridden up when he finally slips two fingers from your dripping core, slick coating the chair and the insides of your thigh.

“Messy girl,” he chides, and you whine at both the words and the loss of him inside of you. Your breaths are shaky still, recovering from the orgasm that wracked through your body, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of this situation.

Thoughts buzz through your mind at a million miles per hour and you aren’t sure what’s more dizzying—that Can possibly likes you or that he just fingered you in a tattoo parlor. Eyes glossing over your figure, you catch the way he looks at you with pink cheeks and a tent in his jeans. Oh god.

“Can we—”

“Yes,” he breathes out. “I just—” For once, Chan looks like he’s lost. You always thought Chan to be well composed in all situations. Cool. Chan was cool, and he was intimidating, and he was hot, but now he looks at you like he wants to lay with you forever and melt into your bones, and without a second of hesitation, you know that you want to do the same.

He kisses you with a new found vigor, as if to remind you that he’s still here, wiping away the tears that still linger on your face before easing one hand around your waist, running up and down along the side of your body. “Gonna make you cry,” he grunts, turning your body so your legs hang over the side of the chair instead of the front. Pushing himself in between your legs, they instinctively part and wrap around his waist, drenched panties pressing against his crotch.

“Shit,” you hiss at the friction, glancing up at him as you flip your skirt up so you can both watch the way your hips connect. “I—”

You’re cut off by knocking on your door, all your muscles tensing when you hear Soyeon’s voice. “Hey Chan, I actually think I’m gonna head out now,” she calls out. Chan doesn’t turn around, his eyes firmly set on you under him, and he tentatively juts his hips forward, pressing his erection against your clothed core even harder.

You almost moan. Almost. You narrow your eyes up at him, but the hint of a smirk tugs at his lips before opening his mouth and saying, “Yeah, go ahead. We still got …” Chan’s eyes glaze over you, and something in them darkens as he watches you struggle not to make a sound. “We still got stuff to take care of,” he tells Soyeon through the door. “I’ll close up, just leave the keys in the box.”

“Are you sure, because—”

“Yeah,” Chan says, a bit louder and firmer this time, causing you to twitch beneath him, reaching out for a hand to hold. Chan watches you fondly as you do so, fingers going in a grabbing motion towards him, and something inside him melts when he slots one hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. “Just go Soyeon, I’ll take care of everything. Just go.”

You can hear Soyeon mutter something about Chan being an asshole as her footsteps fade away, but neither of you care after Chan looks down at you again. “Fuck,” he mutters, letting go of your hand and grabbing the back of your neck, smashing his mouth on yours as he grinds into you.

“Wan’ it now, Chan,” you moan as you fruitlessly gyrate your hips, the action proving to be difficult when your legs are locked around Chan’s torso.

“Fuck, me too baby,” he grunts, pushing your shirt upwards so that they bunch up over your bra. You help him out, unclipping the flimsy material and throwing your bra off to the side. Chan takes this time to unbuckle the black belt secured around his waistband, wasting no time to shove his jeans down to pool at his knees, leaving him in nothing but boxers that are starting to look painfully tight.

His bulge is basically staring at you, and you feel your mouth water at just the thought of what hides behind the thin fabric. Growing impatient, you reach forward and help him out, tugging down his boxers as he fondles one of your tits with a large hand. A soft gasp escapes your lips when his cock is freed, springing up and against your hand, smearing precum all over your palm.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Chan groans when you wrap your hand around the base of his fat length, steadily jerking him off as you admire how pretty he is. You look so enamored with him, and Chan feels himself growing dizzy. Fuck, this is happening. This is really happening.

Firmly yet carefully, he pushes your shoulders back and then smooths a hand over your thighs before finally pulling your hips closer to his. He traces his touch over your soiled panties, admiring the wet stain and the way you jerk against him when he brushes a finger over your clit.

You hear the rip first. The feeling of cool air against your sopping pussy hits you a second later, and you gape up at Chan who yanks your now torn panties right off of you. You can’t control your moan this time, the depraved noise ripping through your throat as you lean backwards.

“You ready baby?” Chan rasps out, shuffling forward so the pretty pink head of his cock brushes against your folds.

“Oh god,” you whine at the contact. “Yes,” you blabber. “Ready, ‘m so ready Channie.”

Chan chuckles, moving his hips ever so slightly so the tip pushes into your throbbing cunt only barely before leaving you empty again. He’s teasing you, you can feel it, but watching the lust overtake his features, you know he won’t be able to hold out much longer. “I believe you baby,” he says quietly, securing one hand by your neck and the other at your waist. “Think you can take it?”

“Yeah,” you almost scoff. “‘course I can take it, I—oh.”

Shit, he’s so big, stretching out your pussy as his cock bullies its entire length into you until his balls are pressed to your skin. “What were you saying baby?” Chan chuckles again, using his grip on your neck to pepper kisses by your collarbone as you hiccup.

“Channie,” you gasp out as he stills inside of you. You’ve never felt so full of anything before, and it’s numbing all your senses, a burn exploding through your entire body as your eyes sting.

“Oh baby,” he coos condescendingly, when he pulls away and looks at you. “My poor baby,” he murmurs, rocking his hips into yours so slightly but it still punches moans out of your lungs. “My poor, poor baby—crying already?”

“C-can’t help it,” you whimper, eyes shut tight as Chan starts to pull out further now, leaving you empty around halfway before filling you right back up. You really, really can’t help it—the way the tears flow from your eyes as if that’s all you were made to do: cry for Chan and his words that are so mean yet so nice.

“I know baby …” he huffs out, the strain in his own voice apparent. Your cunt is sucking him and and he wonders how you could be so perfect, crying beneath him from just a few strokes and dirty words—you were fucking made for him. “My little crybaby … looks so cute when she cries.”

You don’t know why, but his words only make you cry harder, choking over your own strangled moans and broken pleas as you tap his forearm and intertwine your fingers with his again. Chan thinks this is it for him—he’s fucking into you, thrusting so mean, but here you are mewling his name and gripping onto his hand like it’s a lifeline.

“Perfect,” he growls, using the hand on your hip to push you down so he can jam his hips into yours faster. “You’re so fucking perfect—my pretty crybaby.”

Your gummy walls pulse around him, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tight your vision starts to grow hazy. Your tears fall onto your shirt and something about the small stains has Chan going into a frenzy, snapping his cock into you so hard you swear it kisses your cervix every single time.

“So-o-o full,” you gasp out, feeling tears drop on your lips. Chan leans down, capturing your wet lips in a hot kiss, licking the saltiness right from your mouth. “I—I can’t wait!” you cry out when he curves his thrust into that spot.

“Channie making you feel good?” he groans, your wetness starting to drip down his pelvis, a squelching sound filling the room from every slam of his hips.

“Amazing,” you choke. “Love it, love it so much.”

“So much it makes you cry, huh baby?” Chan whispers through his own heavy pants. “Love it, love it when you cry for me …”

You can’t think, you can’t feel anything except for his cock hammering down onto you as you bury your face into his chest. “Only you, only for you, Channie!”

“Fuckin’ better be. Only I get to see you like this, right baby? My pretty crybaby. Say it.”

“Yours! Your pretty cry baby!” you cry out as you clench down on him so tight Chan thinks he might bust on the spot.

“Fuck, yes baby, yes—that’s my good girl, crying on my cock.”

“Channie—Chan! ‘m gonna—ah!”

It hits you like a truck. When you cum, it’s with tears soaking his shirt as you blubber for the impending release, your cum fully creaming his cock and making an even bigger mess between your lower halves, as he fucks it all into you. The squeezing of your gummy walls around him is more than enough for his own eyes to be rolling to the back of his head and once he’s sure you’re fucked through, he slips out of you and wraps a hand around the base of his cock.

Your face is aflame and your mind buzzes but something about the way Chan’s hands looks so prettier around his even prettier cock as you shuffling to the ground and on your knees in front of him. Still sniffling from the onslaught of stimulation, you close your eyes and hold your tongue open for him as his cock twitches.

His seed hits you in thick ribbons of white, warm as some lands on your lips and tongue, some mixing with the rest of the wetness on your cheeks. As he cums, Chan mumbles your name under his breath in broken and whiny syllables, the sound echoing off the walls in a beautiful pattern.

As he looks down at you, his cock successfully milked dry, he thinks he might just pass out.

You’re the prettiest girl in the world like this, face coated in tears and his cum. And when your lips curve up in a dopey smile and you look at him with puffy eyes, Chan knows that he doesn’t mind a crybaby as long as it’s you.

[hanggarae]

💬 u need to get a grip idk

content dino x f!reader one shot smau fluff humour

warnings cursing one mention of dying

synopsis; dino blowing his bank account to impress u

[pepperonidk]

the kids are alright || l.c

pairing: dad!lee chan x mom!reader warnings: reader goes by mom word count: 1362 summary: parenthood is chaotic, but things will come out alright in the end

a/n: i’ve been binge watching modern family and i felt bad for my latest jihoon angst so i thought i’d offer some tooth rotting fluff as an olive branch

main masterlist || taglist

“Okay,” you let out a sigh as you plopped down on the sofa beside your husband who was slipping his socks on. “That’s all three ready for school.” 

“Really?” Chan looked down at his watch with an impressed look. “With 6 whole minutes to spare. That’s gotta be a record.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

Before you could bask in the glory of mastering your kids’ morning routine however, a shrill voice called your name from upstairs. “Mom, I can’t find my biology project.”

Chan sucked in a breath and shook his head. “Spoke too soon,” he teased. You playfully shoved him as you stood from the couch and headed towards the kitchen. You and Chan had spent the better part of last night helping your daughter Jia with a diorama for her biology class (read: you and Chan did all the work). 

“It’s in the kitchen,” you called back as she came down the stairs. “Do you have everything else?” 

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing the project off the counter and rushing behind you to the fridge to grab a water bottle. “Oh, one of the gremlins said they need cash for something at school today though.”

“Honey,” you chastised. “Don’t call your siblings that, it’s not nice.” By the end of your warning, she was already in the living room asking her father for a ride to the mall after school. 

“She called us what?” Minjun, one of the twins, asked as he entered the room with his jacket halfway on and his lunch box halfway unzipped. You rushed over to help him, letting out a sigh.

“Nothing,” you answered him before calling on your husband when you realized one of your kids had yet to make it downstairs. “Chan can you grab Minji? She’s still in her room.” 

Chan quickly replied a quick “Sure,” before running up the stairs to grab the other twin. It wasn’t until you heard Minji squeal as he literally grabbed her and picked her up that you turned your attention back to Minjun.

“Jia said you and Minji needed money today?” You questioned him as you inspected him to make sure he didn’t forget anything else. 

“Yeah,” he replied, ruffling his hair. “We have a class trip next week that we’re supposed to pay for.”

“A class trip?” you echoed back. “I didn’t know you had a class trip.”

Minjun shrugged his shoulders in response. “Minji and I told dad about it last week,” he explained.

You looked up at your husband coming down the stairs with your daughter riding on his shoulders. “Chan?” you questioned with your hands on your hips.

“Right,” he responded sheepishly. “I think I have the permission slips in my briefcase.” He set Minji down and quickly went to his study to find the slips. He returned and handed one piece of paper to each twin, only for Minji to groan.

“Ugh, dad,” she complained. “You gave me Minjun’s.” She and her brother swapped papers before stuffing them in their backpacks without a care and you cringed at the sight of their papers crumpling in the mess.

“Whoops,” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “Does everyone have everything?”

“Yes,” all three called in response.

“Alright, team,” he clapped and began with a cheery voice. “Happy Monday.”

It wasn’t until the kids were all dropped off that you and Chan were able to actually have a minute to yourselves. It was a rare day that you were both off from work and an even rarer day that the kids weren’t home. Although you very much loved your kids, it wasn’t hard to admit that it was nice to have a break from them every once in a while.

You and Chan had taken separate cars to drop the kids off so you could stop by the grocery store to pick up some things you were low on and by the time you finally made it back home, Chan was curled up on the couch watching a kids’ cartoon. You smiled at the sight of him clad in his old pajamas and with Minjun’s Spider-Man blanket only covering a small portion of his body.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly before sitting up. Once he noticed the grocery bags in your hands, he stood up to grab them from you before heading into the kitchen to help you put the groceries away.

“How was drop-off?” he asked you as he put the produce in the fridge.

“It wasn’t too bad today,” you shrugged. “I got to the twins’ school before the typical traffic jam, so you know… a happy Monday indeed.” You smirked at Chan, feeling proud of your small win for the day. “What about you?”

Chan let out a sigh, now folding up the emptied grocery bag. “Jia made me drive at like half the speed limit,” he glared at you as you laughed at his misery. “She said that her diorama was precious cargo and then went on a tangent about how her whole future is on the line and blah, blah–”

You swatted him playfully. “Honey, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for us as parents to blah blah our kids,” you joked.

Chan simply scoffed. “Show me where in the parent rulebook it says that,” he replied as you rolled your eyes. “I did what she asked, anyway. Took us almost 30 minutes to get to the drop-off area, but I did it, because I’m an amazing father.” He leaned back against the counter while you finished putting away the last box of cereal.

“You definitely are,” you agreed with just a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you walked back to the living room with your husband hot on your heels.

“Hey,” he stuttered, and without even turning to look at him, you knew his lips were pushed into a pout. “I am an amazing father.”

You laughed as you plopped down onto the sofa where he was earlier and took the small blanket for yourself. “I never said you weren’t,” you replied impishly. “But remember that time when you forgot Jia–”

Chan cut you off by sitting down next to you and poking your side, eliciting a squeal from you. “I didn’t forget her,” he corrected. “I was teaching her a lesson about being independent. I only made it to the parking lot before I remembered.” The last part came out mumbled and you let out a laugh. 

“Well what about the time Minjun asked for ketchup on his fries and you accidentally put sriracha sauce on it instead?” Chan retorted.

“Hey,” you chided, poking him back on the side. “I was also teaching him a lesson.”

“Yeah?” Chan teased, grabbing your hands to stop you from retaliating. “What lesson were you teaching him? That sriracha is scary?”

“No,” you retorted. “That uh… that sometimes moms make mistakes.” You pouted at the end of your sentence and Chan chuckled before pulling you onto his lap.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he cooed and you buried your face into his neck. “At least it was a funny mistake.” You poked him in the rib one last time as he let out a pained chuckle. He tightened his hold around you and the two of you stayed quiet for a beat with only the sound of the cartoon playing in the background.

“Chan,” you called his name softly. “Do you think the kids are gonna be alright?”

He hummed thoughtfully before replying. “Of course,” he replied softly and with seriousness. “We’re good parents.”

“Even though I fed my 3 year old son sriracha?” you asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “And even though I almost forgot a 7 year old at the store.”

You laughed against his chest. “How do you know that?”

“Because they have parents who love them and will love them no matter what,” he pulled away from you to look into your eyes. “And even if we make mistakes along the way, we don’t stop trying to do better, and neither will they.”

“The kids are lucky to have you,” you replied before leaning up to meet Chan in a soft kiss. “And so am I.”

taglist: @yksthings @iamxelia @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where you take chan's virginity in 7 minutes in heaven, and after you move to the contryside to study, Chan tries to find you throughout these years, looking for a few more minutes with your presence. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Smut, unprotected sex, fingering (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving, and a lil' mention of m. receiving), penetrative sex, muffle of moans, bathroom sex, closet sex, creampie, clit stimulation and etc.

In the bustling hallways of High School, there was a boy named Chan who seemed to effortlessly navigate the sea of students. With his easy going demeanor and infectious laughter, he became a familiar face at every social event, from the lively frat parties to the spirited gatherings in the gymnasium.

Chan had an uncanny ability to blend into any crowd, always surrounded by a diverse group of friends. Despite his outgoing nature, there was a mysterious quietness about him, a shyness that made him stand out even more. He was the type of person who observed more than he spoke, and his thoughts remained a well-kept secret.

You, on the other hand, were just another student navigating the complex world of high school. While not a stranger to the social scene, you maintained a quiet grace that captivated those around you. Chan couldn't help but notice your presence wherever he went, and your beauty became a constant source of admiration for him.

As the days passed, Chan found himself drawn to you more and more. He'd steal glances in the hallway, secretly hoping for a brief exchange of smiles. However, his shy nature prevented him from approaching you directly. Instead, he contented himself with being part of the same social circles, watching from a distance as others sang your praises.

One day, as you stood in the gymnasium, chatting with friends, Chan couldn't help but overhear his own friends discussing how dreamy you were. A subtle twinge of jealousy flickered in his eyes, and a pang of frustration nestled in his chest. He wanted to be the one expressing those sentiments, but fear held him back.

Despite his internal turmoil, Chan continued to be a silent admirer. At frat parties, he'd watch you dance with friends, and in the hallways, he'd catch glimpses of your radiant smile. His friends continued to tease him about your allure, unaware of the quiet storm brewing within him.

Then, in a random frat party, the room was filled with a buzz of excitement, laughter, and the occasional gasp as the game of truth or dare escalated. Amidst the dwindling crowd of friends, the bottle pointed to you and Chan, causing a hush to fall over the group. Chan's heart raced as he seized the chance he had been waiting for.

"Truth or dare?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes fixed on yours.

You grinned mischievously, caught up in the thrill of the moment. "Dare," you replied, a playful glint in your eyes.

Chan felt a rush of nerves and anticipation. "I dare you to join me for 7 minutes in heaven," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of boldness and nervousness.

The room fell silent, and gasps echoed around you. It wasn't just the unexpectedness of Chan's daring move but also the rarity of his public display of affection that stunned everyone.

You met his gaze with a smile, realizing the significance of his bold action. Extending your hand to him, you whispered, "Lead the way, Chan."

As you both made your way to the closet, his hand felt clammy in yours, a testament to his nerves. Once inside, the door closed behind you, leaving your friends in the living room with wide eyes and curious whispers.

So, 7 minutes in heaven, huh?" you teased, breaking the silence.

Chan chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied, his voice a bit shaky.

You took a step closer, your eyes meeting his. "You know, this is probably the most daring thing you've ever done," you remarked with a playful glint in your eyes.

He grinned, trying to muster some confidence. "Well, when the opportunity knocks, you've got to take it, right?"

You laughed, appreciating his boldness. "I like that attitude. So, what are we going to do for the next 7 minutes?"

Chan's hesitance became evident. He awkwardly stepped closer, his hands brushing against your waist as he tentatively held you, clearly uncertain about the next move.

You smiled, noticing his uncertainty. "You know what people normally do in here, right?" you asked, playfully raising an eyebrow.

Chan nodded, his cheeks growing even redder. He was caught between excitement and nervousness. Sensing his discomfort, you decided to take the lead, moving your lips to his ear as your arms slid to hold his shoulder and neck.

"Don't pretend that you didn't call me here for a reason," you whispered, your warm breath sending shivers down Chan's spine.

His eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and anticipation dancing in them. As your lips met his, the atmosphere in the closet shifted.

he kiss deepened, and Chan closed his eyes, savoring the moment. For him, it felt like the most courageous act he had ever committed. As your lips moved in a dance, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, exploring with a mixture of curiosity and passion. His hands, once tentative, now gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and a gasp escaped your lips.

In the heightened intensity of the moment, Chan's inhibitions seemed to fade away. His hands traveled, moving to grip your ass, a bold move that made your heart race. The unexpected touch sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but gasp, your hands instinctively finding their way to the closure of his jeans.

As you began to unbutton his jeans, a mix of excitement and nervousness enveloped Chan's mind. He felt like a daredevil, a rebel breaking free from his usual reserved self. "What the fuck you're doing, what the fuck you're doing, what the fuck you're doing," his mind repeated like a mantra, the rhythm echoing the beating of his heart. And he was doing nothing. His body was tense, glued to the wall, watching you pulling his cock out of his boxers, already on your knees. "Oh my god Y/N…"

[…]

As time passed, Chan couldn't shake the memory of that fateful night at the frat party, and the 7 minutes in heaven that left a lasting imprint on his heart. Despite having other flings and experiences, your presence lingered in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of a connection that felt unfinished.

Graduation came and went, and as the days turned into months, Chan found himself yearning for the girl who had once whispered in his ear, and fucked with him for first time in the small closet. He tried every avenue to find you, but it seemed like you had vanished into thin air. The countryside, where you were rumored to have gone to study, felt like an impenetrable mystery.

Chan's attempts to move on were futile. He'd catch himself flipping his head 360° at the sound of a familiar name, hoping against hope that it was you. The intensity of his search gradually took a toll on him, and he realized that the girl from the frat party had become more than just a fleeting crush.

Years passed, and Chan matured, both in age and in understanding. He reflected on the significance of that one night, realizing that it wasn't just about the physical connection but the emotional one that had developed in those 7 minutes. It became a turning point in his life, shaping the way he approached relationships and connections.

Eventually, Chan accepted that some stories are meant to be cherished for what they were and not for what they could have been. The memory of the mysterious girl from the frat party became a bittersweet chapter in his past, a reminder of a connection that slipped through his fingers.

As life unfolded, Chan carried the lessons learned from that fleeting encounter, and while he didn't know where you were or what you had become, the impact of those 7 minutes in heaven remained etched in his heart, a beautiful and poignant memory of a love that never fully blossomed.

The soft glow of the evening sun cast a warm ambiance over Seungcheol's house as Chan, along with a group of friends, gathered for a casual dinner and some much-needed relaxation. Bottles of wine adorned the table, and laughter filled the air as the friends reminisced about their high school days and caught up on each other's lives.

Chan sat comfortably, sipping on his wine as he engaged in a lively conversation with Vernon, their laughter blending seamlessly with the others in the room. The atmosphere was one of camaraderie and nostalgia, a haven away from the stresses of their busy adult lives.

"So, Chan, what have you been up to these days?" Vernon inquired, raising his glass in a casual toast.

Chan took a thoughtful sip of his wine before replying, "Oh, you know, the usual grind. Work keeps me on my toes, but it's not too bad. And I've been trying to make time for some personal projects, too."

Chan's heart raced as he saw the figure enter, resembling you in a way that ignited a spark of hope in him. At first, he dismissed the possibility, unwilling to let his expectations deceive him. But then, a second glance shattered his disbelief—there you were, after all these years, standing before him.

Vernon's words faded into the background as Chan's focus zeroed in on you. His mind raced with a flurry of emotions, memories flooding back like a torrent. He couldn't believe the twist of fate that had brought you back into his life.

"Vernon, I think I'm going to lose it," Chan exclaimed in a hushed, incredulous tone, his eyes still fixed on you. While Vernon furrowed his eyebrows.

Vernon, sensing the gravity of the situation, chuckled knowingly. "Dude, this is crazy! Go talk to her!"

As he reached you, there was a mix of nervousness and anticipation on his face.

"Hey," he said, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "It's really you, isn't it?"

You met his gaze with a mix of surprise and joy, confirming, "Yeah, Chan, it's me. I can't believe you're here too."

The two of you shared a moment of disbelief and happiness, the years that had passed seemingly evaporating. Vernon observed from a distance, a grin spreading across his face as he realized the significance of the reunion.

The vibrant atmosphere of Seungcheol's house seemed to fade away as Chan found himself irresistibly drawn to you. Despite the years that had passed since your high school days, the connection between you two felt as alive and magnetic as ever. Every stolen glance and subtle smile communicated a language that only the two of you seemed to understand.

The pull became so strong that, at a certain point, Chan decided to follow you into the kitchen. The chatter and laughter from the other rooms faded into the background as the two of you found a moment of solace amidst the whirlwind of the reunion.

As you opened a drink, Chan approached with a lopsided grin. "Mind if I join you for a moment?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

You gestured with a nod, and a comfortable silence settled between you. It was as if the passing years had only served to deepen the unspoken connection. Chan, feeling a mix of nostalgia and newfound boldness, finally broke the quiet.

"Are you dating someone?" he asked, the question lingering in the air with a weight of curiosity and perhaps a hint of hope.

You looked at him, the honesty in your eyes evident, and shook your head. "No, I'm not. Why do you ask?" you inquired, a playful grin playing on your lips. "Thinking of entering another closet with me?" you added, teasingly recalling the high school party that had marked the beginning of your connection.

Chan, surprising both you and himself, responded boldly, "Well, maybe I was thinking of something more than just a closet this time."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and a moment of tension hung in the air. The boldness of his statement sparked a mix of excitement and curiosity, and you couldn't help but be intrigued by the newfound confidence in Chan's demeanor.

As Chan stood there, his black jeans emphasizing the contours of his thighs, and his shirt fitting snugly on his chest, you couldn't help but appreciate the sight before you. A subtle "Hmm" escaped your lips, capturing his attention.

Feeling a sudden surge of boldness, you moved closer, crossing your arms to accentuate your figure, and you caught Chan's gaze. With a playful glint in your eyes, you asked, "Do you think Seungcheol would mind if we borrowed his bathroom for a few minutes?"

A devilish smile crept onto Chan's face, and he replied, "Oh, I think he wouldn't mind at all."

Taking your hand, he led you upstairs, navigating through the lively atmosphere of Seungcheol's house. The anticipation in the air grew as you reached the bathroom at the end of the hall. The door closed behind you, leaving the sounds of the party downstairs muffled in the distance.

He kissed you sloppy and hungry, his hands slid from your neck to your hips. His mind showed no sign of stopping, and his hands quickly worked their way up your dress, squeezing your hot skin between his fingers.

As Chan's lips hovered dangerously close to yours, a charged energy filled the small bathroom. His playful words echoed, "Now you don't escape from me." his hand holding one leg up and the other entering your pantie promptly feeling your juices wetting his fingers.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you bit your lip, a mixture of anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. The air crackled with unspoken desire, and in that confined space, time seemed to stand still.

You can feel his hand teasing you, almost entering, and you breath fast, anxiously waiting for him to fill you with his fingers. "Chan, come onn…" You whine, moving your hips, no success.

As you squirmed, caught between desire and the teasing banter, Chan couldn't help but laugh. "I'm starting to enjoy seeing you like this," he admitted.

His fingers curled with a sudden unexpected move, and your body jolted in response. A moan escaped your lips as the surprise electrified your body. His laughter mixed with the sound of your reaction, creating a symphony of shared delight.

His fingers traced patterns, each curl and movement making you moan louder.

"Better be quiet, or…" he trailed off, his words carrying a hint of playful warning.

Your eyes met his, a spark of defiance in your gaze. "What if I don't want to?" you countered, a challenging tone in your voice.

Chan chuckled, his breath warm against your ear. "Well, then, maybe I'll have to find a way to make you," he replied, his fingers continuing their mesmerizing movements.

Chan turned you around, his body pressing firmly against yours. He moved with deliberate confidence, his hand swiftly covering your mouth.

Your eyes met in the mirror, and the reflection captured the mix of surprise and excitement in your gaze. The muffled sounds of the party downstairs seemed distant, drowned out by the charged atmosphere within the confined space.

Chan's fingers tightened slightly, and his eyes held a silent request for compliance. "You better collaborate, If you don't want me to come out and leave you all wet here…"

His hands start to pump his length, getting on his knees, spreading your ass to suck your clit, then spitting on your pussy. The action makes you lay your chest on the sink, feeling your wetness drip on the floor.

"Now you're ready… Can you take my cock like a good slut hm?"

"Yes I c-can!" You let out with a hoarse voice, as you feel Chan's cock sliding your folds.

When his cock fully entered, you held back a huge urge to scream一and say how good Chan was filling you一his length stretched you out, and his tip brushed your g'spot, without he even try.

As his hips gained more rhythm, you could slowly feel your legs giving up to yourself, but Chan held you against his body preventing you from falling, taking the opportunity to place open-mouth kisses on your neck, his warm tongue sliding across your skin, making your body spasm over his. "Oh my god Chan you're fucking me so good, so good…"

Your body melted on his as he rolled his hips, then slammed back hitting your g'spot with pressure, he took his face from the crook of your neck and gave you a glimpse, seeing your body surrendered over his, slowly softening in his hands. Each time he went deeper, the naughty smile on his face grew as he whimpered your name into your ear.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you found yourself in Chan's arms, the shy boy from high school transformed into a confident man. His whispers, once reserved and uncertain, now carried a hint of boldness and desire as he shared naughty thoughts in your ear.

The bathroom seemed to shrink around you as the intensity of the moment escalated. Chan's touch ignited a fire within, and the playful banter evolved into something more visceral. The transition from the familiar high school connection to this new, mature intimacy left you breathless and exhilarated.

As he continued to whisper naughty things in your ear, the air seemed to decrease every second, and you tightened around his cock more and more, making his hips stutter. He already knew you would cum in one wave. Then he makes a point of holding you tighter, shaking his fingers quickly over your clit and rolling his hips, making your orgasm strong.

Chan's hand glues to your mouth muffling your screams, while he tries to swallow his own moans. "I always knew there was more to us than just seven minutes in heaven."

As Chan's whispered words filled the air, the sensitivity already took care of you and you could barely manage to get your own words out, your breaths coming in quick pants. Chan gently held your hair, guiding your face to meet his, and with a whisper, he asked, "Kiss me, please."

Your lips met, and he opened his mouth to moan, and the world seemed to fade away. Chan's arms wrapped around you, pulling you even closer. His body trembled as his release washed over him, the intensity of the moment building with each passing second. You could feel your pussy dripping his cum out of you, while he hid his face on your shoulder, whimpering as the remaining pleasure made him tremble.

The connection between you and Chan transcended the past, and in that shared kiss, the years apart melted away. As the intensity of the kiss lingered, you managed to break away for a moment, breathless and flushed. A playful smile danced on your lips as you looked at Chan and whispered, "Well, this 7 minutes in heaven has lasted a lot more than just seven minutes, hasn't it?"

Chan's eyes held a sincere warmth as he gazed at you, and with a soft smile, he said, "You know, everything is heavenly when you're around."

His words, like a gentle breeze, warmed your heart, and you felt a surge of emotion at the unexpected beauty of his phrase. Meeting his gaze, you replied, "Then let's make every place we are, heaven."