#chan scenario | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Stress relief

Pairing: afab!reader x Chan

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: Kissing, mentions of gentalia, handjob, tit job (?), praise, creampie

Note: idk if anyone is actually going to read this because I haven't posted in like 10 months so yeah but rusty but genuinely enjoy writing this so much

Summary: You were a great student, and Chan was struggling, bad. This is what happened when you tried to reduce his stress by 'studying.'

Time was nothing but a mindless construct for you and the many young individuals that attended college. Prestigious or not, it was deep into the second semester of your second year, and if you had to look at one more textbook about a specification type of referencing, you were going to explode.

Being a psychology major was something you had worked toward for a long time. Having a job that nurtured people back to optimal health and wellbeing was something that always felt nice on the tip of your tongue. Nice to tell people, nice to give to people. That didn’t mean it did not come with its challenges. Researching, literature reviews, group assignments… It was hard and enduring work.

It was helpful that by the end of the first year you had discovered others on the same greuling yet rewarding path. Having a decent support system was essential, especially when traveling to the other side of the world to study. The 4 boys and two girls, who would be named Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin, Chan, Mina and Lia would be the be all and end all for you. Crying together, partying together, doing everything together. Traveling to South Korea was difficult at first. Adapting to the culture and language, so having them by your side got you to where you were today. Life is stressful currently, but then again, things could be worse.

“Okay class, this is the last class for the semester, so if you have any questions, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You listened eagerly, wanting to pick up on any tips or tricks necessary to ace the exam. Cognitive psychology was a piece of cake to you, so this exam was in the bag. The others… not as much. Changbin and Felix were pretty good, thanks to Lia helping them every other day, and Mina only liked to study alone, got too distracted by the lot of you which to be fair, isn’t hard. You were a loud group. Most of the time you studied on your own as well, the occasional time with Felix if he was bored or needed to catch up on notes from readings (and by catching up on notes, basically just stealing yours). But most of your time was spent with Chan. He was good, but always needed a little bit of extra help. He was kind of whisked into psychology, not really sure what he wanted to do. Therefore, Chan had little to no background before coming into the degree.

“Ms, is Piaget theory required for this exam?”

“Tsk, yes Chan,” she replied, much disdain to her tone, “have you not been listening to anything for the past 6 weeks?”

Tiny giggles permeated through the room after the professor's sarcastic response. It made your skin crawl, and not in a good way. It was quite rude if anything. Chan laughed it off as well. He was the type to just laugh things off, but you could tell on his face that he was nothing but serious when asking his question. His ears began to turn red, sinking into his chair simultaneously.

Luckily the bell rang, and you had never seen someone zoom out of a classroom as fast as Chan did. You chase after him, wanting to make sure he was okay and not feeling completely humiliated. It felt like a marathon, you were very much out of breath by the time you caught up to him. Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he turned around, the unintentional force causing him to face you.

“Jesus christ Chan,” you stumbled, completely out of breath, “why did you have to run so fast?”

You looked, a weak chuckle coming from his lips, a single tear simultaneously dripping out of the corner of his eyes. Your smile faded, beginning to feel really bad for your poor friend.

“Sorry Y/n,” he whispered, wiping it away quickly with the sleeve of his hoodie, “you’ve caught me at a bad time.”

You motioned to the bench next to you, sitting next to him as you rubbed his back in circular motions. Chan was such an intelligent individual, it made you feel sorrow when he doubted himself, and this was one of those moments.

“Oh Chan don’t even worry about that,” you cooed, “she’s been rude all semester, definitely had a stick up her ass or something because I have no idea what her problem is.”

That made him giggle, turning to you and grabbing your hand as a silent thank you.

“Yeah you're right aha. I’m really struggling with the cognitive stuff though, and I have no idea how I’m going to do this exam.”

The other, who moved at a normal, not heart attack inducing pace, finally caught up to the two of you,lips pouted and solemn as they noticed Chan was having a down moment.

“Aw Chan it’s ok,” Felix hummed, giving him a bright smile, “we will all help you, promise.”

“Yeah,” Changbin chimed in, “let’s have a study session at Chan’s, tomorrow, 3pm good for everyone?”

Everyone nodded in agreement, you and Chan following behind the rest. He grabbed your wrist, making you stop in your tracks, “Y/n, could you come an hour earlier? Just so I don’t sound like a complete idiot? Also, they’re kind of hard to keep up with. I like the way you explain things.”

You’d be lying if you said the skin on your arm was burning up. He didn’t know, too innocent to realize, but his praise had an effect on you, one too many times. You would like nothing more than to take care of him, in all the ways anyone could imagine. Wash his clothes, feed him an insurmountable quantity of food. Was his hair in the shower, lather his body in soap and just, well, you know. The chiseled state of his body was no secret. The many beach trips accounted for that. Chan was a very good looking man, one of the first things you noticed when Felix introduced you to his friends. However, it was something that you suppressed deep down. A romance was the last thing you needed.

Your cheeks follow a similar temperature. The thought almost made you dizzy. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to your senses and not trying to look out of the ordinary.

“Uh yes,” you shrieked, the attempt to act normal utterly dismissed, “of course. Anything to help you out.”

You continued to walk together, a million thoughts running through your mind as you attempted to keep them subtle, failing to rope them in and keep them at a minimal level.

To describe you as nervous was an understatement. Your hairbrush ran through your hair in a frustrating manner. You felt stupid, ridiculous even. If you had a dollar for every time you went to Chan’s dorm, you would be a millionaire, why did this time feel different? Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed, putting the last touches of your makeup before grabbing your keys and walking across campus, heading to your ‘friends’ door.

A gentle couple of knocks was all it took for you to be greeted by your handsome friend. His hair was swept back, forehead showing. His outfit was casual, black hoodie, black tracksuit pants. It was nothing different to what he usually wore, but he looked ten times hotter than usual.

“Y/n,” he groaned, “thank god you’re here.”

He dragged you inside, closing the door behind you. He began to pace back and forth, biting on his fingernails simultaneously.

“Chan slow down, what’s wrong?”

“I opened the textbook, and I can’t stop freaking out. Y/n I’m so stressed, why are you not pacing with me?”

“Because,” you laughed, gripping his forearms stopping him in his tracks, “by the end of the day, you will understand Piaget, and every other theory we need before the exam, okay?”

You were close, eyes piercing as you gave him a loss of reassurance. You weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you, but it felt like Chan was moving closer. His eyes began to bore into yours, holy fuck he was hot.

You broke away, not wanting to misinterpret anything. Taking a seat on his couch, you picked up his textbook, scanning and analyzing what he was trying to understand. Chan sat right next to you, thigh distractingly touching yours as you attempted to read. You could feel his gaze over his shoulder. The smell of his cologne flowing into your nostrils, becoming intoxicating. Your frustration began to increase. You knew that you were being unreasonable, but it was like he was trying to seduce you. You were already out of your mind, and nothing in the slightest of being sexual had occurred.

“Chan, I can hear your breathing down my neck.”

“Oh,” he moved away, “sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sure?”

“What?”

You put the textbook down, turning your body to face him. The look of concern on his face, like the one you were met with when you opened the door had not disappeared. A look of disapproval now on yours.

“Can you please talk to me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What exactly is stressing you out?”

A large sigh escaped his lips,

“I just feel like I’m failing. I had to convince my parents to live here instead of Australia, and I just feel like I’m not living up to what they expected.”

Your heart sank at his words. You sat there for two minutes of silence. You weren't sure what you could say that would be perfect and what he needed to hear, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t attempt to.

“Chan I-”

“And I have other needs as well.”

At first you were confused, completely unsure of what he referred to. Your mind was ticking once again, rummaging to what he referred to. But when it came to your mind, your eyes widened, mouth dropping before you spoke.

“Oh, I get what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

Another couple of minutes of silence passed as you looked around, refusing to make eye contact with each other. An idea popped into your mind, but it was way too inappropriate to ask. You wanted to help him so badly though, a proposition if you will. It was such a fine line to cross. It really was inappropriate, but the innocent look on his face was triggering something in you, sparking your innermost fantasies and desires.

You don’t know what took over or what in your right mind possessed you to do what you did next, but time moved and all of a sudden you were on top of Chan, arms wrapped around his neck as you looked down at him, like a predator hunting his prey.

“You know, I can help you if you want?”

A large gulp was evident as it paced down his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say, him now analyzing if he himself was being too inappropriate to take you upon your proposition. His hands spread across your rear, gently nudging you forward. He was in unfamiliar territory, not sure how to proceed.

“Did you mean with studying or, you know, my needs?”

The look you gave him was priceless. It was amazing how genuinely oblivious Chan was sometimes. You got up from his lap, saying nothing and walking towards his room. He followed, closing the door behind him, even though nobody else was home.

“Sit on the bed.”

He did as he was told, legs spread wide at the edge. He always sat like this, and it turned you on, every single time. Chan, without knowing it, just looked so cocky, so arrogant, and fuck, did you used to like arrogant men. The ironic thing was that he was the complete opposite. Smart, kind, generous and warm to others. He was probably the only guy that you met that had all the qualities you looked for.

But that was irrelevant now. This moment wasn’t about how likable he was, it was about how hot he was. You took two steps closer, lifting your arms above your head and discarding your shirt. You could hear the audible gasp that escaped his lips, stunned by the way your chest looked. You did not assume that this would happen, therefore the reason why you had no bra on. You stood there, chest inline with his face as he watched you with so much intent. The way he was taking you in, drinking you up like a crisp, refreshing beverage. Chan, not a complete virgin, had little experience. He was a hard worker, never giving into his temptations. If anything, it kind of explained why he was so intense ¾ of the time. Nevertheless, it made your insides throb the way he gazes at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth.

“If you don’t want this, talk now.”

You waited for what felt like 5 hours, but was really thirty seconds before he shook his head, vigorously. The notion made you smirk. His eyes remained wide, focusing nothing but the curve of your boobs. He went to lift his shirt, thinking it would be the right thing to do seeing as you were half naked yourself. But you said no,grabbing his wrists and placing them on your own zipper. His fingers gently shadowed yours, the sound of the zip the only noise filling the room. Stepping out of them quickly, simultaneously pulling your underwear off as well, another gasp escaped his lips. You were now fully nude, him fully clothed. There was something sick to you about getting off at the fact he was fully dressed and you were the opposite.

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” he gulped once more, “really, really beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but that wasn’t the time for this. Dropping to your knees, your fingers began to fiddle with the drawstring of his own bottoms. It did take long, seeing as Chan liked to wear very baggy clothes. They came off in one swift motion, spreading his legs even farther apart so you could fit right in. He was already extremely hard, the sight of your tits getting even near his cock made him twitch. Looking up at him, his chest was visibly tense, like he was holding in a large breath.

It wasn’t until your hand gripped the base of his length, and you started pumping, was when his chest fell deeply, almost concave in. His facial expression still looked tense, however, you could tell it wasn’t a look of agony, it was quite the opposite. A small whine escaped from his lips when you added another hand, adding more friction to his cock and you began to pump him a little faster.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath, too embarrassed to allow you to hear his satisfaction. The muscles in his legs and arms were much looser than they were prior, and the fact that you were only using hands was absolutely blowing your mind. Your arousal was increasing. Seeing how pathetic and easy it was to turn Chan on.

“Is that good Chan?”

“Yes,” he breathed, barely able to get his words out, “that feels so good, fuck Y/n.”

The breathy tone of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It had been a while since someone made you feel like that. You felt like he needed to be rewarded. You maneuvered your body closer, but taking his hands off of his length, placing them on either sides of your chest as you took him in, watching his length slide in the crevice of your tits. Chan jumped out of his seat, jaw slack and dropping to the floor as he watched his extremely hard cock disappear in between your cleavage. Eyes remained on him, your core was throbbing harder, watching his face contour, eyebrows strongly furrowed; he was enjoying every single second of it. Your chest moved with anticipation, tongue sticking out to reach the slit of his tip every time it reached the peak of your cleavage.

“You’re so cute,” you smile, “you’re so pathetic you know, have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he moaned, hands already gripping his bed sheets forcefully, “you’re right, I’m so pathetic.”

“Oh you like that? You like when I take control?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a good boy,” you coo, picking up your pace, “taking my tits so well aren’t you?” His head rolled back, eyes closed but looking like he was looking at the ceiling. It was almost as enjoyable for you as it was for him. The textures and ridges of your cock not going unnoticed. He felt amazing, and your mouth began to salivate because if he felt that good in between your tits, he would feel 10 times better inside of you. Chan came back to life, head snapping back into motion as he looked down at you, so much innocence yet corruption filled his being. You moved away, hearing the sound of disappointment come from Chan’s lips as you stood up.

Lifting a hand, you pushed him by the chest, laying him flat before crawling on top of him. Still sitting up, you hovered over intertwining your fingers with his and you lined yourself up with his cock. A sudden pang of doubt creeped into your mind. Was this the right thing to do? Did you feel the need to do this to satisfy your own wants and needs?

“Are you ready for this?”

He said nothing, only nodding because he knew that if he tried to speak, it would come out as a voice breaking murmur. Placing your hand on his shoulder, straightening your back, allowing yourself to sit on top of him. A small moan escaped your lips as your clit landed on his cock. That was fortunate. A hiss escaped him. Chan had been super patient until this point, it kind of made you feel guilty for making him wait. But another part of you kind of loved this almost sick power you had over him. He was so complicit, not doing anything and letting you take control. It felt rare, because most of your previous partners needed to have control.

“Do you mind if I do everything myself?”

His eyes never left yours, biting down on his bottom lip as he shook his head, eagerly waiting for you to get on with it. You lifted your hips once more, taking the hand that was intertwined and bringing it to the base of his length. A moan in unison, one of relief and gratification as he effortlessly slid into you. Chan was a decently hung man, but it didn’t matter anyways. You were already so wet and so turned on that fucking him would be a piece of cake.

“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes glued to your tits as the had a light bounce. You began to gently rock, not wanting to overwhelm him at a rapid rate. This was supposed to be relaxing for him, and it was, feeling his cock already twitching inside of you.

“You’re not going to cum are you?”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips softly against his. The electricity was great, moving with so much attention yet sensuality you slipped your tongue inside his mouth. A soft groan vibrated from his mouth the longer you kissed him. Breaking the kiss, he looked up at you, keen to answer your question

“No,” you whined, unsure what to do with his hands, “sorry I’m just so excited.”

“You’re excited?”

“Yes,” he replied looking back up at you, “I can lie and say I haven’t thought about this before?”

A mischievous gasp left your mouth at his words. The combination of him thinking about fucking you and actually fucking you was causing your body to heat up. The temperature in the room increased and the tension felt even thicker than before. You kept a slow pace at first, hands on his shoulders in your attempt to remain balanced. It truly was adorable at how into you he truly was in this moment.

“We can do this as many times as you want now baby,” you cooed, “this is only the beginning if you want it to be.”

You picked up speed a little not wanting to go too fast, but needing just enough friction and gratification to work towards your high. Chan was so immersed in you that his hands barely lingered across your hips. It had come to your attention that maybe he genuinely needed some assistance. It was clear that even though the agreement was that his stress relief was in the palm of your hands, it was important to him that for you, it was equally enjoyable.

“You know you can touch me,” you whispered, giving his palms a gentle nudge upwards. It didn’t take much, almost like his hands were in, or on, their most natural position; your tits. A gentle moan escaped your lips at the contrasting ice cold temperature of his fingertips lingering on your nipples. The long string of moans and gasps from Chan was becoming anything but adorable. Each noise he made aroused you even more. The gentle massage of his hands was delightful. It wasn’t the first time you had thought about this. Especially when you were frustrated, stressed, or having a dry spell, the physicality of Chan was always a lingering cognition. Always there to coax you through your sexual frustration. If anything, this became stress relief for the both of you. Chan because he was stressed out because he needed to pass the exam, and yourself because now you didn’t have to suppress the surplus of fantasies and desires that stayed awake in your mind.

“Mmm, how are you doing Chan?”

“So good,” he growled, “I don’t know if I can last much longer.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. Keeping your composure, but really you were grateful because you could feel the pit in the depth of your lower abdomen. Your orgasm was coming, and there was nothing you could do about it. Although you did all the work, his cock was hitting you in the exact spot you needed. The slapping of your ass against his groin was getting louder, and you rhythm faster yet a little erratic, the intensity of him starting to overwhelm you.

“Y/n, wait,” he paused, making you stop in your tracks, “I don’t want to cum in you.”

A pout puffed from your lips at his words.

“You don’t?”

“Well,” Chan gulped, “I would, but I didn’t think-”

Instead of letting him finish, your index finger was across his lips, completely shushing him.

“You shouldn’t assume things about me Mr. Bang.”

You picked your hips up again, leaning back on his knees he bucked your hips, rapidly feeling the strokes of Chan’s cock. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly. The way you were dying to see the face he made when he came, how he looked at you was your soul volition in this very moment.

“Are you gonna cum?”

“Fuck, Y/n please,” he moaned, his loudest noise yet.

He nodded, jaw slack open as you rode him like your life depended on it. His cock was twitching at a rapid rate, hipe gently bucking into yours as he felt his high coming.

“Would you like to cum in me?”

He nodded once more.

“Cum in me Chan, cum in me, come one baby, you can do it.”

Chan mouthing ‘fuck’ one more time, before completely blowing his load inside of you. His jaw cracked, distressed gasp strangling his throat as he grabbed your hips, controlling your speed as you milked him dry, your orgasm waving over you simultaneously.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, knowing Chan was guiding you through it, but at this point, you didn't even care. It felt too good to discipline him for not letting you do everything. You stood up, a sharp groan coming from you as you felt his seed drip out.

“Fuck, what if-”

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted once more, “I’m on the pill.”

A sigh of relief disappeared from his chest.

You lied down next to him, trying to catch your breath as he turned to look at you.

“How do you feel?”

“Y/n that was amazing?”

You chuckled at his admiration, turning to him and seeing the sweat condensate across his forehead. Wow, did you make him work up a sweat.

“Still stressed out?”

“Far from it.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, hope I wasn’t too overpowering or anything.”

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, “it was really fucking hot actually.”

Fuck. You kissed him again, really enjoying the validation of your feminine power over him. It was a nice moment, that was until you heard a knock on the door. Fuck. The two of you were so immersed in what you were doing, that you completely forgot about the study session with the others.

“Shit, uh, just put your clothes on, I’ll stall them.”

You nodded, quickly redressing yourself and heading to the bathroom. You cleaned yourself up, looking at the mirror and shit, did you kinda look like a mess. A pang of embarrassment hit your chest. How on earth were you supposed to just hang out with your friends, and act like you didn’t just fuck one of them. Nevertheless, there was no time to think about it, fixing your hair as much as you could before opening the door, and returning to the lounge where the others smirked at you when you walked in.

“Hey guys,” you smiled, choosing to ignore them, “what’s going on?”

“What are you already doing here?”

The two of you gave each other a quick look, praying to the lords that you came up with the same explanation.

“Oh me? I only got here like 5 minutes before you guys.”

“Oh you did,” Felix chimed in, sarcastically placing a hand on his chin, like a detective, “and Chan, why do you look almost sweaty?”

“Uh me, well I just had a shower before you guys got here. Then Y/n knocked about 10 minutes later.”

You shrugged, nervously chuckling and just praying they were taking this.

“Fuck Y/n, please,” Changbin whined, mocking Chan. Your eyes grew wide.

“Yeah come on baby, cum in me cum in me,” Felix added, making everyone burst into laughter. Your face was as red as a bunch of tomatoes. They heard everything. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

“You guys don’t have to lie, you know. We saw this coming from a mile away.”

“You did?” The two of you asked in unison, making the rest of them laugh again.

“I mean yeah,” Felix shrugged, “I’m sure this is what all the ‘extra studying’ was for.”

“No dude,” Chan began to yell, even you giggling at him now getting defensive, “I do need help! I’m terrible at this!”

“Is he y/n?”

“Terrible at psych? A little,” you paused, sitting down next to Felix on Chan’s couch, “sex? Absolutely not.”

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writingforstraykids · 2 months

Note

A soft moment for Minchan please?

These two, always🥺 Hope you like it🖤

Mhm, I know

Word Count: 652

Summary: Minho overdid it a little at their practice room and Chan's there to take care of him.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, comfort, sleepy!min, caretaker!channie, cuddles, praising (a little)

Minho sits on the floor of their small dance studio and stares at his reflection. He just finished a three hour session, trying to come up with some new steps and moves, and took a shower after. Now he is back here, his hair still damp and his body hurts from head to toe. He bends forward a little and braces his head in his hands, closing his eyes tiredly. Somewhere in the distance of their shared home he can hear his boyfriend calling for him but he's too tired to answer.

Seconds later the door opens and Chan steps inside, worry lacing his features as he sees him. He crouches down behind him and soothingly runs his hands over his shoulders and down his arms. "Tired yourself out, Min?" he asks gently and the younger man nods. "You've been in here quite a while now."

"My brain's empty," he shrugs and sighs softly.

"I'm sure a break will help, hm? You did enough for today," he reminds him and starts massaging his shoulders and neck area. Minho's head drops with a low moan at the soothing touch of his boyfriend and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling. Chan glances at him through the mirror and smiles to himself. Minho's lips are parted, eyebrows furrowed with something between pain and pure relief and his hair falls into his face. He looks tired even like this and Chan wants nothing but wrap him into a blanket and make sure he'll take a break now. He continues working his way down his back, easing out all the knots and Minho grows very quiet.

Once he's done Minho slowly looks up, meeting his eyes through the mirror. "My legs as well, please hyungie?" he asks so sweetly Chan would never dream of denying him that.

Chan hums softly and gets in front of him, resting his left leg on his thigh. Chan's fingers start easing his sore muscles with routined movements and Minho leans back on his hands, hissing softly. "Good?" he asks and Minho nods tiredly. Chan takes his time before moving on to his right leg and repeating the process. He pulls him closer once he's done and gently rubs his smaller hands in his, smiling at how perfectly they fit into his. He cups his face once he's done and plants a tiny kiss on his forehead. "I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah?" he asks with a shy smile, barely keeping his eyes open at this point.

Chan nods and lifts him into his lap with a small grunt. "You've been working so hard lately and you keep on getting better. Every time I think you've reached your peak you surprise me again."

A shy, small giggle escapes him and Chan's heart melts at one of his favorite sounds on this world. "Cheesy," he says fondly.

Chan snorts and runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too, kitten."

"Mhm, I know," he smirks and teasingly pokes his side. "What did you need? Heard you yelling around the house again."

"I didn't-," he starts but Minho's delighted laugh cuts him off. "I wanted to get you for dinner," he giggles then.

"Oh...I'm hungry," he nods and cuddles deeper into his boyfriend's chest. "But I'm also very tired."

"I'll feed you and then we'll go and cuddle up in bed. Does that sound good?" he suggests.

"Sounds perfect," Minho smiles lazily. "Channie love?"

"Yeah?" he asks gently.

"I love you." Minho says quietly and plants a tiny kiss on his cheek.

"Mhm, I know," he grins, poking his side this time. "Now come on before you fall asleep."

"Carry me?" he asks sweetly.

"I didn't really expect you to walk, baby," he chuckles.

Minho beams as Chan gets up with him in his arms. Yeah, he really loves his cuddly, strong and so damn caring boyfriend.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @michelle4eve @lixie-phoria @gxtwllsn @xxstrayland

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wishingyouback · 2 years

Text

Just you and me. . . B. Chan

>> synopsis: glimpses and moments in your relationship with Chan that he’ll always look fondly back on, and will always love: from the moment the both of you first hung out, to the few times he had told you he loved you.

>> pairing: Bang Chan x reader

>> warning(s): none, just an abundance amount of fluff and love from both parties, small mentions of morning breath. no proper plot.

one.

"I like you too, Chan."

And that was all Chan remembered from the 21st of May.

Your hands and his held together, a smile plastered on his face that didn't fade even when the morning rolled in and he had woken up to the faint smell of your perfume lingering on the sheets of his bed. He woke up with an extra hop to his step, in a mood that sky-rocketed through the roof. Even when he had nearly stepped into a puddle of leftover rain water with his brand new shoes, it didn't phase him, for all he thought was the sound of your voice and the way you looked at him as you relayed the same feelings he held for you.

"I like you too," Chan softly murmurs to himself as he makes his way up to your floor. As a routine, Chan would always come over after work to hang out before heading home, but this time it would be different.

This time, you were more than friends.

"Hey sweetheart." Chan is halfway through the door when he feels you cling onto him, arm already hooked over his to pull him deeper into your house where he smells something cooking in the kitchen.

"Is Minho over?"

"Ha, ha." You deadpan, the ghost of a smile on your lips at his teasing. "Not this time, no. But! I made you your favourite dish." Excitedly, you scoop up a spoon laying on the counter to let Chan taste the stew you made.

After a second of his taste test, you eagerly look up at him. Chan almost melts at the sight of you alone when he takes a proper look and sees what you have on. A pair of shorts along with his favourite tee.

Well.

That's a sight that's gonna be imprinted in his mind for a while.

His favourite shirt on his favourite person — Man he really, really likes you.

"Well? How is it?"

"It's just right baby," he kisses the top of your head after wiping his mouth. Before you can turn around, he holds you by the hips and slides his arms around your middle.

"Hey," you say softly into his hair when he bends down to nuzzle his head onto your neck.

"Thank you for doing this. You're an angel." You know better than anyone that Chan was simply thanking you for doing an act of service that he appreciated, but the gratitude altogether made you relax your tense shoulders.

Your hands move to his hair, and out of habit you start massaging the roots of his hair. "So are you. Help me set up the table?”

Chan chuckles but nods, "yes ma'am." He pecks the corner of your lips without thinking and walks out of the kitchen to put his bag down.

Chan had always been a very affectionate person. His hands were somehow always on you, from your shoulder, lower back to simply ruffling the top of your head— you had grown accustomed to the tiny touches, but having him kiss you on the cheek, your head and at times the most random spots that make you feel all tingly; that was still new. But, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

You liked this side of Chan, the side he only presented to you. So, with a smile and without a doubt, a hint of redness appearing on your cheeks, you continue stirring the stew until it starts bubbling. As you carry the pot into the dining room, all you can think about is the way Chan had hugged you hello, kissed you as a thank you and even helped set up the table with the television set up with your favourite show already switched on.

"Thank you," you breathe out, somewhat feeling relieved. Cooking took more energy than usual, and you realised it as Chan pulled your chair and guided you into your seat.

"This is all you sweetheart,” he squeezes your shoulders then sits beside you to watch the show together.

You really, really liked Chan.

two.

"Good morning."

You couldn't remember the last time you slept so well. A good sleep to you was defined by how many times you would wake up during the night, and seeing as you slept through your alarm and didn't get up to go to the bathroom at least once, you had deemed tonight's sleep as one of the best and Chan was the cause of it.

"Hi." You say shyly, covering your face in order to shield your morning breath. Chan, however has no problem when it comes to morning kisses because he pulls away your hands from your face and very carefully meets your lips with his.

the only way to describe his kisses, especially in the mornings, were tender.

They weren't needy, but they withheld just as much passion as his usual kisses. You figured that was his skill; hiding his desire behind the calmness of his mind, it was what made him so attractive to you. How laidback he was but attentive to every detail, information and body language you'd present around him. He paid close attention to those he cared about, and it always showed. The second he pulls away he catches the way your face crumples slightly.

With a laugh, he asks "What's wrong?"

With a mumble you say, "i was worried about my morning breath."

Chan lets out a laugh, one that comes from his chest so you know it's genuine. "Sorry sweetheart," he pulls away slightly but your hand reaches out to hold his forearm. "Did it make you uncomfortable?"

"N-no..." you start slowly. "I like you– I mean, I like you enough to let that slide so you don't have to stop doing it." You ramble, but all Chan does is look down at you with a fond look on his face.

You nearly coo at the sight of Chan. His natural curls have come out, and he's shirtless, but he looks all the more adorable if not attractive. It seems like Chan could look both hot and cute at the same time, even at ten in the morning.

"What're you smiling at hm?" Chan's arms feel warm around you, so you scoot even closer to him, as if you weren't almost face to face with his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"You," Chan smiles widely. "Your cute hair, your cute face. You're cute everywhere, it's no fair."

“My apologies for being so adorable.” He grins.

“Apology unaccepted,” You frown playfully. “But since you’re my boyfriend, you get a pass.”

“Hmm boyfriend, I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” He says as he pulls you closer. “Let's just stay here for today. Just you and me ignoring the world."

While you find the thought of him wanting to be with you, wanting and choosing to spend more time with you instead of going to work, you have to decline the offer because— reality has to come in at one point.

"No can do sweetheart," you say. "I have a meeting to attend and you, have a deadline to meet."

"I'm in charge of my own company, i'm sure they'll be able to function a day without their boss." Chan says, closing his eyes when you playfully glare at him.

"Maybe they will, but that still doesn't change the fact that you have to finish your things by today and I have to meet my client today, baby."

"I like it when you use your cute pet names on me. Makes me feel all giggly."

"Chan."

"Hm?"

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes angel?" Chan opens one eye but when he sees your deadpan look, he only chuckles and nods. "Okay, okay. Let's go get ready."

"Thank you," you lean forward to kiss his cheek but he swiftly moves so you end up pecking his lips instead.

"Good luck kiss for the day," is all he says with a wink before he gets up to stretch.

He's still here yet you miss him already, and he feels the same.

You want the days to go by quicker again as long as you got to see him by the end of it.

three.

"What if they think I'm lame or weird?"

"They're not gonna think that sweetheart," Chan pauses. "I'd be surprised if they do. They'd be one to talk honestly—"

"Chan..." You whine.

The both of you were heading to Minho's house, where you would meet not only your shared friend, but Chan's entire friend group which consisted of Minho and a few more people that you had never met before, but have only heard by name.

You knew who Jisung was, you had seen pictures from when Chan was showing you old pictures of himself, but that was it. You met Minho when you were working at a small restaurant downtown and through him, you met Chan and the rest was history. It's not like you were against the idea of meeting Chan's friends. You had thought of this moment since he had made things official, but it would be a dishonest truth to say that you weren't nervous.

"Baby," you look away from the windshield when you feel Chan's hands move from your thigh to clasp your hand. "Look at me, please?"

When you do, he stops at a red light and does the same.

"My friends are gonna like you." He smiles, "it's alright if you're nervous, it only shows just how much this means to you and how much I mean to you, and I appreciate that. I love that you care so much about these things, but trust me sweetheart you'll be just fine. I'll be right there with you."

"Why are you so sweet to me," you smile tiredly, making Chan want to kiss you. And he does just that, pulling away just in time to drive away right as the light flicks to green.

"Only for you," he lets it sink in then cringes. "Too much?"

"Predictable," is what you say and he nods. "But it was cute."

"Sure it was."

"I'm sure your friends would've found it adorable."

"Oh God," Chan groans with a laugh. "Changbin would have a field day if he heard that. Don't let the boys know my weakness."

You turn to him with a puzzled look, "What's your weakness?" You were surprised, and a little shocked that he had never thought to mention this before but at the knowing look he gives you, it almost seems as if you were supposed to know this.

"It's you."

"Okay, now that was definitely a line." You laugh when he looks away.

"It's the truth, sweetheart."

"Sure it was." You playfully roll your eyes, and within a blink of an eye, the both of you had rolled in to the familiar parking lot of Minho's apartment.

Right as you unbuckle your seatbelt, Chan rests his hand on yours.

"You okay?," You let him run his thumb over your knuckles.

With a deep breath, you nod. "I'll be okay."

"You'll be okay," he repeats with a smile.

You squeeze his hand in yours and nod, a wide smile that's nearly glowing on your face. "Thank you for inviting me." You kiss the corner of his lips and let him walk out of the car to open the door on your side.

"M'lady."

You chuckle at his adorable act but place your hand on his arm, letting him guide you to Minho's floor despite always coming here at least twice every week when he would host those weekly movie nights.

—

Chan's friends loved you.

Chan wasn't surprised, you were incredible at making friends despite being a little reserved, he was a little surprised to see you warm up to Changbin, considering how loud him and Minho could be— especially together, but it didn't overwhelm you and even when Changbin had belted out the lyrics to a Celine Dion song you weren't familiar with, you still listened attentively and even added in tiny adlibs to keep his singing going.

Jisung found you adorable. He had told Chan this the second he saw you threaten to hit Minho with his ladle and had deemed that moment, his favourite part about meeting you. You were a natural, and while Chan expected nothing but good things out of the night, he was happy at how his friends clicked so easily with you. Maybe a little too well with how Jisung was hogging you the entire time Minho had announced that he would put on a game of MarioKart.

"Ji you've had her on your team for three rounds already. You have got to let Y/n know what it's like to be on the winning team." Changbin says proudly, smiling as the number one shows on the screen. Bright and big.

"As if! This is your first time winning in a month!"

You were sat on the sofa while Jisung and Changbin were on the floor, the both of them crisscrossed with their shoulders touching so every now and then in a middle of a match, they would shove one another in order to act as a distraction while you were the mediator of the two. Minho would occasionally tell them to quiet down while he was reading an article on his phone, but it was mostly you who would tell the both of them to cool it down before they break Minho's remote.

As you laugh at something Jisung says, you feel Chan rest his chin on your shoulder. He sits up from his laying position behind you and plays with the hem of your shirt.

"You know the first time we played this game, Changbin didn't know how to drive his kart 'till the next day."

"I can hear you dipshit."

"He's not lying. It got even worse when we played GTA and you ran over a few pedestrians in the game."

"In my defence there's no right or wrong way to play that game. And MarioKart's just too challenging for beginners." Changbin pauses, "but who still got three wins in a row tonight? Yeah, pay up loser."

"Why am I paying?! I didn't bet anything." Jisung says bewilderedly.

You lean back against Chan's chest to watch the banter unfold in front of you, finding it amusing at how much energy the two had to continuously tease and poke fun at each other. When Changbin points to the raven-haired boy sat on the other sofa, Jisung gasps in both shock, and betrayal.

"You bet on me?" And just like that, Jisung feigns sadness.

"I bet that you'd win, stupid." Minho deadpans, "way to go by the way. Now I'm twenty bucks broke because of you."

"Yes, but you're twenty bucks broke from believing in Jisung." Chan speaks up.

"Unbelievable. Next time you play I'm siding with Bin." Minho says as he slaps the twenty dollar bill onto Changbin's hands.

"Bin?" You speak up, and the boys nod at you.

"That's what we call Changbin time to time." Jisung let's you know, making you feel touched at how inclusive they were with you.

"You can call me that too," Changbin smiles kindly.

Jisung snorts, "you say that as if people can't use it freely."

"They do," Changbin shrugs. "It's just not many people use it, except for the guys, and now Y/n." Changbin seems genuinely happy to tell you this, making you appreciate how friendly they were.

"I'm gonna get a drink. Y/n you need anything?" Minho asks as he jumps up to his feet, stretching his body similarly to a feline creature.

"Anything you're having is fine." You thank him.

"You're not gonna offer anything to us?" Chan asks, an amused look on his face.

"You have feet. Y/n is my guest."

"So are we!"

"Y/n's my more important guest." Minho says, causing you to burst into laughter while Jisung and Changbin chase after the older boy, complaints rushing out of their mouths to say what a bad host Minho was being.

Minho doesn't bat an eyelash when he walks to the kitchen, and knowing him well, all of you know he was only kidding.

"Hey." Chan nudges your jaw with the bridge of his nose, his head still resting on your shoulder.

"Hi," you say sweetly, nearly cheesing at the soft kiss Chan gives you. The both of you didn't engage in much public affection, especially in front of his friends to prevent them from feeling uncomfortable, so this was nice. "Wanna play one round?"

Chan leans back slightly, tilting his head up with a challenging look.

"You sure you wanna play a round with me, Y/n?"

"What," you fully turn tk face him now, grabbing the spare controller that was used by Changbin to plop it on to Chan's hand. "You saying I can't beat you?"

"I didn't say anything," your boyfriend says smugly.

"Oh, you are on Christopher."

When he hears his full name, he lets out a low whistle. "Bringing out the full name now," he sits up behind you. "Challenge accepted sweetheart."

"Don't come begging for another round when you end up being second or last place." You says cockily, making Chan grin. Despite the competitiveness between you two when it came to games, any kind, he always found you endearingly cute.

"Oh I won't angel." Chan smirks, "you pick the route."

And just like that, the both of you are sucked into your own world with the three of his friends watching you guys from the kitchen doorway where Minho is trying to film the moment, Jisung is pretending to fan his tears away while Changbin is only watching with a proud, content smile on his face.

"You think he's gonna cave for her?"

"No way," Jisung scoffs. "Look at how his veins are popping out. Y/n and him definitely won't go easy on each other."

"They definitely won't," Minho finally says. He had been witness to many gamely competitions between you guys to know just how serious the two of you were. "But, you can definitely tell he's having more fun than usual."

After a beat, Changbin exhales out of his nose.

"They're good for each other."

"They definitely are."

four.

The first time you and Chan argue, it’s over a trivial thing.

You don’t remember specifics nor do you try to even remember how it all started, but you remembered feeling absolutely gutted after the whole exchange that when you left his apartment, you barely reacted to the hug he had given you. That was all that was exchanged between the two of you when you left his house. There were no texts, no calls, but you preferred it this way.

At least for the moment. You always needed time to yourself; a moment to be able to fully let the emotions sink in, to let yourself be angry, upset or even confused at the entire thing.

But one thing was for sure, was that you were devastated at the way you left things with Chan.

Unlike your previous relationship, you had entered this relationship with Chan with your head, body, and then your heart. You gave yourself time to fall for him, to really get to know him— understand him and what made him him. Therefore you promised yourself to always be vocal with your thoughts, with your feelings. And you were. You really were, but a small part of you felt uneasy at the tiny parts you left unsaid between you two.

You were in the middle of contemplating whether you should call him or not, when suddenly you hear the doorbell ring.

“Hi.”

Chan doesn’t get to react when you suddenly pounce into his arms. Albeit the only reason he has them open is to hold your bouquet of flowers, and a bag of your favourite food, he welcomes you into his embrace. He hugs you even tighter, resting his head on your shoulder to be able to inhale more of your detergent, along with your usual perfume.

“I’ve got you,” Chan whispers but you can almost hear the smile on his face when he lands a sweet kiss on your collarbone. “Hi,” he says again when you pull away to look at him.

“Hi,” you laugh. “What’s all this?”

Chan shyly hands you the bouquet, and then the bag of takeout. “I had a feeling you weren’t feeling too good about our argument so I got you a little something to feel better.”

“Chan…” You pout, but smile when you realise he had ordered your favourite meal. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” you refer to his empty hands. “What’re you going to have for dinner? This can’t all be for me.”

“They are sweetheart,” he chuckles. “And don’t worry about me. I just came over to drop these off to make sure you were feeling better, and now that you’re smiling again, I can go home feeling peaceful.”

“Chan,” you laugh. “You’re not staying?”

Chan’s eyebrows nearly reach his hairline, “you… you want me to stay?”

“You don’t want to?” You feel a little deflated at his words, but he’s quick to explain.

“No, no sweetheart don’t get me wrong. I would love to stay, but I don’t want to be here if you still aren’t feeling good— I mean, it was my mistake you got mad so I didn’t want to bother you. I know you like your space.”

Your heart melts at the thought of Chan pacing back and forth in his living room after you had left. You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he hated conflict in any form or way, so he must’ve really thought this through to have gone through all the trouble to order takeout and drive to your house, all in the rain that was now pouring.

“You’re the sweetest,” You gently pull him in for a kiss. “But, I’d love for you to stay. Is that okay?”

“Okay? Baby, that’s more than okay.” He genuinely looks relieved, and you almost visibly see the tension release from his shoulders.

“Good.” You kiss the corner of his lips, nearly cooing at how his cheeks are starting to turn pink.

“Wait wait,” Chan pulls you back by the waist, holding you carefully in his hands until the both of you lock eye contact. He holds it then says, “How’re we feeling?”

You tilt your head in confusion.

“About the argument,” he smiles softly. “How’re we both feeling?”

“I feel good,” you reach up to cup his face. “I feel better than I did before, and even more reassured to have you here with me.”

Chan exhales a breath of relief, “good. Great. Okay,” he can’t contain his happiness when he starts kissing all over your face.

“Chan!” You let out a laugh, but Chan doesn’t stop there.

When the both of you finally make your way back into your house, with Chan now shirtless since his shirt was soaked from the rain, the both of you start arranging the takeout on your kitchen table. You sort them out from what you feel like eating, to what you want to keep for later and Chan only nods from behind you. He has his arms wrapped warmly around your middle. He sways you side to side, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

A wave of deja vu washes over you, but you allow it. It’s a nice feeling, and you’re only happier to know that Chan is the cause of this giddy feeling.

You feel his lips trail kisses down from behind your ear, all the way down to the space between your shirt and neck, and giggle when he reaches your neck. You were always ticklish in certain areas.

When delicately uses his fingers to tuck the strands of your hair behind your ear, he hums a soft tune.

“I love you,” he says, and you feel yourself fighting back a smile.

You’ve heard him tell you this countless of times, but every time you hear it, it feels like the very first time he had told you under the night sky as he fed you the last piece of your favourite dessert.

“I love you,” you say back.

Chan really really loved you, and so did you. You always would.

Author’s note:

hello <3 i hope that whoever’s reading this, and has read this far down into the imagine, enjoyed it with all their heart and managed to squeal and/or maybe awe at their love <3

it’s been forever since i’ve last posted an imagine so i hope this doesn’t and didn’t disappoint Xx

ngl as i wrote this my head was literally ‘no thoughts just vibes’ so TT this is what we ended up with :’) not thoroughly proofread, so any errors made will be fixed after some time Xx

with all my love, saturn.

you are loved,

and ily always.

#chan fluff #chan imagines #chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines #bang chan x reader #skz soft imagines #stray kids soft imagines #chan scenario

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mae-gi-writes · 1 year

Text

NOT THE FIRST, BUT THE LAST | CHAN 🌙

"I'm always going to be anxious about you."

Chan takes a sip of his drink, a cocktail of sorts, as his eyes find yours in the dim lighting of the bar. The sound of the waves in the distance renders it peaceful, the jazz music behind you fruity in its blend of musical instruments. There are a few people milling about on the public beach before you, but you find you cannot raise your gaze from the coke and rum in your hands.

"Care to elaborate?" He murmurs.

You sigh, "I'm just being petty."

You have been going out for more than four years after all. There's no one else you'd rather be with. And you know it's the same for him.

Yet, it always comes back to haunt you. A ghost from your past.

"I still want to hear it," there's a smile playing on his face. He feels like indulging in your childish manner today, "tell me."

"I..." you fumble with your glass. Take a sip. Swallow it down like it's medicine, "I..."

The words fail. It's so hard to talk of such things. Even the thought of it renders you speechless, annoyed, with that zpark of anger that follows.

He prods you with his shoulder, "c'mon. Spill it."

"Well," you start off as your hands find purchase in the fabric of the couch on which you're seated, "you know how your...you've had a girlfriend before me, right? And...I just hate the thought--it comes very rarely, but still--I hate the fact that you've experienced various things with her...that you--you did it all with her and I'm just--I'm never going to be the special first. You know? Like...there's always going to be someone else and when I think about it, it kinda makes me...i don't know, upset? Disappointed?"

There's silence as Chan takes in your words and you wonder whether you've strayed too far. It's obbiously no one's fault and yet, you don't want him to think you're just being dramatic. It is genuinely something that bothers you.

From the corner of your eye, you spot him taking another sip of his cocktail while mulling over your words. It's a long stretch of silence before he finally speaks up.

"I can't erase what I've experienced before you," he says slowly. His eyes find yours, reflecting the lustrous colours from the jazz bar beyond, red and gold and deep blue, "I understand what you feel sometimes. I can barely imagine your ex-boyfriend sneaking his hand down your shirt. It makes me uncomfortable," he purses his lips and one of his hands find your thigh before he rubs it in slow circles.

The movement spreads tingles of warmth up your body, unconsciously making you relax.

He continues, "but what I do know, is that the previous relationship I had makes me realize that ours is what I want. I love that we laugh and do stupid stuff together. I love that we talk, and I mean really talk, to each other. It sounds stupid, but it's true. I never really talked to my ex-girlfriend. I--I think that now, looking back, I should've definitely treated her better. It might sound bad but...yeah. it's the truth."

The music fades out as you concentrate on his words. Play them again. And again. A broken record on replay. You wish you can believe him. You will your heart to believe him. But it’s easier said than done. There’s so much fear, so much apprehension for the fact that you’ll never be his first and that, essentially, being first always wins, no matter what the result.

He probably notices the doubt on your face, for he’s quick to add, “and you know…of course I’ll compare you to her. That’s inevitable—“

You snort, “of course—“

“Well yeah it’s just natural,” Chan makes a grab for your hand, entwines them in his own. A rare occasion. He’s not one to touch so casually and you know for a fact that he’s no hand-holder, “but to be honest, it’s better. You’re better. And I’m not just saying that because I think you’re better than her, but you’re better for me. Maybe she was great too. She was perfect and we never had any fights. But that doesn’t mean she was it for me. I—I didn’t feel it. What we have.”

You sip down some more of your drink and grimace at the sting brought forth by the alcohol. His words ring with honesty, a fragility that settles in the distance between your two bodies. Love, care, tenderness. All of that wrapped up in those words like a gift he’s presenting to you.

You’re not convinced. It’s hard to when there are so many things you wish to improve on. You’re not perfect, but so is he. And what you do know, is that you trust Chan more than you can trust yourself.

In the brown eyes that glimmer in the reflection of the lights dancing upon your silhouettes, you wonder how much time it’ll take for all these scars to fade. You can’t help but hold his gaze, wanting, wishing to make sure that you’re his as much as he is yours.

“Come here,” he finally murmurs while his hand slips around your waist to pull you closer. His jaw finds solace at the side of your head and he can’t help but rock you back and forth with him, “I get it,” he says softly, rubbing a hand up and down your back as he does so, “I get why you might feel unsure about yourself.”

You hum into him in response.

“But I love you,” he continues in a whisper, “I don’t want you to neglect that fact.”

“I know,” you reply, “I love you too.”

It’s not great. But it’s a start. Everyone has to start somewhere in the first place, right? It’s never going to be enough and Chan’s previous encounters form a part of him. You can’t erase that fact, no matter how much you try.

But lying in his arms underneath the new moon rising in the horizon, you think that maybe it feels a little bit better just to have him holding you close like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

———

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etherealinowrites · 2 years

Note

Can you please write a fluff of a pregnancy with bangchan

Yn is in the middle of her pregnancy!

three crates | bang chan

pairing - pregnant female reader x husband bang chan

genre- fluff!!!!

summary- just chan being a loving husband <3

warnings- pregnancy, waking up in the middle of the night.

wc-1K~

permanent taglist: @dreamescapeswriting , @lix-ables , @cocainee-queen , @mwitsmejk , @im-the-charmer

taglist, skz masterlist

—

bang chan was one of the sweetest people you’d ever had the pleasure of coming across in your life. he was caring, warm hearted, sweet, considerate and right now, he was being one hell of a nuisance.

“oh god just stop it already!” you chastised, rolling your eyes as your husband apologised to you for the thousandth time. “i’ve told already that’s its okay! channie stop this now.”

chan pouted, pushing out his lips as his frown deepened and he shook his head. “no. you cant forgive me so easily like this! i forgot to get you your favourite drink.” as if to make his point, his arms around you tightened and you sighed.

“baby. look at me, it’s alright, you don’t have to remember things i say all the damn time. you have a life too.” you hummed, bringing your hands up to his curly hair and petting down his curls softly. “i can’t blame you for making such simple errors now can i? nor should you. it’s just a drink chan, i can literally have minho get it in under half an hour.”

chan let out a deep sigh. “that’s exactly the problem. i don’t want him to. i am the one who should get it.”

you frowned. turning to face him. it was quite struggle to navigate through his strong arms around you but you managed, along with your huge baby bump.

“channie, you don’t have to do everything just because you’re the father. it’s okay for others to fill in your shoes once in a while. besides, it’s not like you would ever do this on purpose. now whatever, forget about this-.”

“but y/n-.” he complained, cutting you off but you shook your head with a firm no.

“i don’t want any more discussions on this or i will call han over and then you’ll have to handle both of us screaming over nothing.” you threatened jokingly, making chan crack a small smile too before he straightened suddenly.

“yes ma’am, forgetting this ever happened. handling one silly human i love is enough. i cant have two in the same room.”

—

the next morning welcomed you with a light stomach ache. eyes still groggy from sleep, you tossed around a little as you closed your eyes and tried going back to sleep.

“oh great.” you muttered unamused as all the sleep left you in one go, making your eyes snap wide open.

“what is it baby.” soft hands were at your waist immediately, one of them rubbing smooth circles on your belly. “are you alright?” chan mumbled, sleepiness evident in his tone as he whispered to you.

“yeah yeah, i’m alright chan go to sleep.” waved his concerns off, sitting up slowly. chan immediately shot up, handing you support as you sat up.

“really baby, do back to sleep. i’m pretty sure it’s nothing.” you reassured him once more. “nothing a little chamomile tea cannot fix.” you chuckled, but chan did not take it as a joke. he rushed out of bed, shaking his sleepiness off as he pulled his shorts on.

“chan what-.” you began, eyes wide as you stroked your baby bump slowly.

“i’m gonna make you some tea, then i’ll put on your favourite disney movie and we’re gonna go to sleep with huge smiles on our faces.” he mumbled, reaching over to peck your lips lightly before he walked out of the room.

you smiled, sighing in love and adoration for the man you called husband.

he was before you knew it, smiling widely with a tray of tea cups in his hands as he giggled while placing them down, his hands were soon on your bump, feeling your little baby as he talked to it.

“hey there champ, now drink this up and let your mommy sleep okay? don’t trouble her a lot for daddy!” chan joked, making you smile as you took a sip of the perfectly brewed tea.

“oh god this is wonderful channie.” you sighed, closing your eyes as you let the tea wake your sore body. “thank youuu.” you sang, caressing his cheeks as his dimples appeared.

“no worries babe, also i called up dr yang and she mentioned that it’s nothing serious. however if you fell any other sort of discomfort besides the usual soreness, then you have to take the pink tablet with half a glass of warm water,” chan cleared his throat, tone solemn as he told you all this. “so wake me up if you feel even the tiniest sort of discomfort okay?” he rose his eyebrows, telling you to listen to him.

you nodded, smiling as you motioned for him to cuddle beside you. “now come here, i wanna watch brave.” you pouted.

“already on it,” mumbled chan as he got up, swiftly switching to brave on the television as he clicked play, then scooted in bed beside you.

his arms automatically came around your shoulders, caging you in as you softly laid your head on his chest, listening to the soft thrumming of his heartbeat.

within seconds your eyes felt heavy, the effects of the tea taking place as your hands fell limp, face smooshed further against chan’s chest and your eyes began fluttering open and close.

chan chuckled wordlessly as he slowly placed you both down, making you lie comfortably on the bed. he flicked the movie off with, then turned off the side lamp before returning to your side.

the biggest lazy smile on your face as you neared him, snuggling beside his warmth as he hugged you close, letting you steal his love.

“sleep well my love, and my little champ in there.” he cooed, stroking soft circles on your hip as you mumbled a sleepy good night back before finally closing your eyes and letting slee take over.

—

bonus

the next morning you woke up to three crates of your favourite drink in your kitchen.

—

a/n- tysm for this request sweetie! i hope you like it!!

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 5.5 - Prince!Dino + Cockwarming & Praise

@soluvcore Said: Dino + Royalty + Cockwarming + Praise. (Hi, new friend. 🧡)

A/n: Hello!!! Coming right up~ This one turned out very soft hehehe

Word Count: 508

Kinktober 2022 Mini Masterlist

The bright light of the early morning creeps through the large open windows of his room, curtains swaying gently in the breeze from the open balcony doors. A content smile rests on Chan’s face as he trails a hand along your spine, absolutely loving the way his bare skin feels pressed against your own.

A sharp inhale from you lets him know that you are now awake.

“Good morning,” he chuckles, meeting your sleepy gaze as you blink up at him.

“Morning,” you hum, resting your head back on his chest.

“How did you sleep?” His hand continues to stroke along your spine, noticing a shiver caress your back as you shift your hips along his.

A hiss escapes both of you at the same time.

“I forgot about that,” you mumble, feeling his cock twitch inside of you.

Chan can only hum in response, feeling the way your warmth envelopes him in the early hours of the morning. To him, there is no better feeling. Being pressed against you, being inside you, is a feeling unlike any other. From the way you’re looking at him, he can tell you feel the same.

“Last night feels so surreal,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

“In a good way, I hope,” he grins, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“Of course,” you smile, lips tugging upwards softly.

If anyone would have told you a few months ago that you would be engaged to the crown prince, you wouldn’t have believed them. You’re forever grateful that he chose you, a princess of a small neighbouring kingdom, to be his bride. Chan quite literally swept you off of your feet when you first met, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s not a secret, but neither would he.

“You were so good to me last night,” his voice rumbles out, the grip he has on you tightening ever so slightly. “My Princess.”

“I never wanted it to end,” you reply with a content hum, “My Prince.”

“I already told you,” he chuckles once more, “it doesn’t have to. Even now, you’re taking me so well.”

As if to emphasize his point, he rolls his hips up into yours, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Like you were made for me.” Chan voices, nothing but tender love and affection shining in his eyes. “My perfect Princess.”

“Whom is well taken care of thanks to her Prince,” you lean up to peck his lips, only to be brought back into him with a searing kiss as soon as you go to pull away.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admits, hands dragging along the skin of your thighs as you move to sit above him, straddling his waist whilst he remains buried deep inside of you.

“The feeling is mutual,” you caress the side of his face in your one hand gently.

“What a good thing it is, then,” Chan breathes, helping you begin to roll your hips into his, “that I’m not going anywhere.”

#dino smut #dino scenario #seventeen smut #seventeen scenario #chan smut #chan scenario #royal au #prince au #kpop au #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kinktober

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because-of-a-friend · 2 years

Text

A Little Bit of Care

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! I hope you don’t mind that I just did this as a bullet point fic (sometimes I feel like I write better in this format anyways lol) Hope everyone is doing well!

Warnings: Mentions food and eating, nothing else that I can think of! This is just a short, cute fic, if I failed to mention anything, pls let me know!

Remember gifs aren’t mine, if you like them, click through to give their OPs some love!!!

Practice can get brutal sometimes

There are just those days when everything builds up

They haven’t had a break in awhile

There’s a comeback coming up

The choreo is harder than ever

They can’t seem to get it together

And they’ve been going as hard as possible in the past few days to get the new moves down

They’re exhausted

No one has much motivation left

They need a break

Chan in particular can get stuck in a bit of a funk on days like this

His mind is a dark cloud

He knows he’s upset but can’t pinpoint why

Probably because it’s actually many things that are causing him distress

He’s been too busy recently

There’s so much on his plate he can’t even think properly anymore

He messed up once in practice but because so many others had messed up before him, the choreographer yelled at him

Mingyu had tried apologizing since he was the one that messed up the most and made their choreographer upset but for some reason it just made Chan more upset

It was just one of those days

You had been having an almost complete opposite experience to Chan that day, though

You felt confident in the outfit you had chosen

Your breakfast had tasted great

Work went smoothly and your boss had even let you off early

You took some time to go to your favorite places around town and then remembered there was a brand new recipe you had wanted to try

Cooking was one of your new favorite hobbies

Along with your days of high school and university, your days of settling for instant noodles and microwave meals were finally behind you

It was a relief to finally be making full meals and eating things that actually had effort put into them

You shoot Chan a text asking him how his schedule looked for the rest of the day and head to the grocery store

The trip to the store is just as pleasant as the rest of your day

It’s not too crowded, everything you need is easy to find, there’s no line at the checkout

When you get back home, Chan finally responds

“Hey babe, we’re probably going to go late today, won’t be home for dinner, sorry :/”

Your heart aches for him

You had gotten used to the times he wasn’t as available

You knew it was just part of his job

And when he wasn’t busy, he was the most attentive boyfriend of all time

He more than made up for his absent days with sweet dates and cute gifts and lots of quality time

Even when he was busy, he’d make sure to send you texts throughout the day or leave notes for you around the house reminding you how much he loves you

You were used to him being unavailable when his career demanded it

But you could never get used to how much stress it put on him

Chan couldn’t count how many times you had claimed that you were going to march up to the company and start yelling at people until the boys got a proper break

When you did this, he would just laugh and shake his head before kissing the top of yours

You looked over the recipe you were making and realized the meal would be easy to transport

You had plenty of time before they would take a break for dinner, so why not?

You put extra effort into making it as perfectly as possible

The meal is finished right in time for you to make it to the practice room for their dinner break

You hum happily to yourself as you make your way there

You’re so excited to be able to do something for your boyfriend

But your good feelings are somewhat dampened when you finally arrive

You can practically feel the negative energy coming from the practice room

There’s definitely yelling to be heard and grumpy comments being made

You wonder if this was a good idea at all

From Chan’s perspective, you honestly look like a real angel when you walk through the door

With your small smile, and your wave and the plate in your hand

When Coups sees you, he says it’s time for a meal break and they all scatter to eat

Chan is smiling for the first time that day

He feels so warm and bright seeing you with food for him to eat

But when you approach him he takes the plate and sets it aside and hugs you

His arms anchor themselves tightly around your middle and he buries his face in your neck

You reach up to pat his head

“Dont. I’m sweaty,” he groans but you ignore him

“You alright?” you ask quietly

He nods and pulls back enough to give you a quick peck as he grins

You direct him to sit down so he can eat before they get started again

You talk to him sweetly and pat his shoulder and head as he eats

Chan is beaming

He feels so happy

Time has started moving slower and it feels like he can actually breathe again

He can feel his muscles relaxing as he listens to your voice and feels your touch

The tension comes back when Seungkwan starts poking around by you two and tries to steal bites of the food you made Chan

You can’t help but laugh at Seungkwan’s antics and Chan is beaming all over again at the sound

“I’ll just have to make enough for all of you next time, then” you tell Seungkwan as you finally shoo him away from Chan’s meal

Chan’s heart skips a beat at the mention of a next time

When he’s finished eating and telling you how much he enjoyed your cooking, Chan feels refreshed and ready to go

“I can stay and wait for you,” you insist

Chan shakes his head, “You must be tired from work, go home and rest, I’ll be there soon”

He presses one more kiss to the top of your head and sends you on your way

He’s too happy to even react when the other boys cheer and tease him over his sweet goodbye to you

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lost-inthedream · 1 year

Note

I'm on board with the happy trail enthusiasm here and the thought of the a.c.e members with happy trails makes me go absolutely feral.

So let's say all 5 members have one, how would they react to their s/o licking their way up (or down) said happy trail?

Asking for uhhh research purposes 👉👈

A.C.E reaction to their partner licking their happy trail

I'm just- 🥴 this is for all happy trail enthusiasts out there. Let's say our boys have cultivated some body hair at least once and that surprised you

Pairing: A.C.E x gn reader

Short scenarios under the cut

Park Junhee (Jun):

Warning: rough!Jun.

Not gonna lie, he actively makes you lick up his lower abdomen. You had rushed into the toilet while your friends had fun singing downstairs. That had to happen after he forced your hand over his crotch to stop you from grabbing a microphone for yourself. Fuck, he was rock hard.

In the restroom, you harshly pulled his pants down. Once you looked up, he lifted his shirt, showing off the hair that had grown on his lower belly. He gripped the back of your head and pressed your face against his happy trail. "Lick here first, doll".

You felt his hand let go of your head so you started licking there slowly. He hissed, eagerly staring at your face. Your hand was now deliberately over his covered member. "Oh my God, yes" he whispered when you started kissing the wet region while you slipped his boxers down his hips.

Lee Donghun:

Warning: tiny mention of alcohol

Donghun kept flashing his belly throughout the night. He was actually oblivious while he interacted with all those friends in his house, being a nice, fun host. In usual conditions, you would reach him and fix his shirt, which needed to be buttoned on the lower part. However, you noticed he had not waxed as he used to do. His jeans waistband loosely fitted around his waist making his underwear also visible. That was quite revealing but you enjoyed the view.

It was getting late when you and your boyfriend were left alone at home, but that does not make you forget a certain nasty idea. He laid back on the couch, tipsy and smiley. You kneeled between his thighs and smoothly opened the remaining buttons of his shirt. Your mouth salivated now that Donghun was all yours. Once his chest and stomach were completely exposed, your tongue wetted up his body hair. "You're insane, kitten" he snaps chuckling and patting your head.

Kim Sehyoon (Wow):

Sehyoon waited for you in the backyard pool while you changed into your swimsuit. Once you came, you noticed his hair already wet, probably from plunging into the water like a child. He signed to you to enter quickly and so you did, only to be rescued by him right away. He held you for a while, fondling your naked flesh underwater until you noticed that you had forgotten your sunscreen inside home. "No worries, I'll pick it up for you. Be right back"

You sat up on the edge, dangling your legs on the water until he showed up again. You could never ignore how fine his body looked half-naked every time it confronted you. His thighs have been always glorious but he had grown a happy trail and that added to his sexiness in a way you could not control your hormones.

He walked closer, ready to protect your face with sunscreen but you stopped him with a sudden grip around his hips. You pulled your legs out of the pool and got on your knees to kiss and lick his lower abdomen. He pressed his lips together, biting the insides of his cheeks. No words, you were free to tug his bottoms down and reveal a bit or much more.

Kim Byeongkwan:

Warning: y/n eyes Byeongkwan up while he's asleep. I don't think it's sonmo but you were warned ;)

There was too much light invading the bedroom that morning, though you were too lazy to get up and fix the curtains. Screw them, you dragged your body closer to Kwanie, planning on hiding your face onto his neck. He was lying on his back, sprawled on the mattress with no sheets covering him. Before you snuggled on him, you noticed his tank top rolled up. The pale skin between his boxers and his top was adorned with hair.

Byeongkwan budged as if he could feel your thirsty eyes on him. Then you shook those thoughts off of your head and embraced him quietly.

After a few minutes, Byeongkwan was greeting you. "Finally.." you murmured against his shoulder. "Uh? Are you in a rush for something?" he mocked you. You sat up in response and scratched his belly with your fingertips. He observed you as you lowered your torso to lick him. "You like it, right? Such a filthy princess/prince"

Kang Yuchan (Chan)

Chan wanted a bath with bubbles. He tried to make you believe that was all for you but he clearly wanted a bath for himself too. "You're my spoiled little babe" he sang once you entered the bathroom. He was sitting by the tub enveloped in a fluffy towel.

You stopped in front of him and let him undress you as he liked. He hummed a song and pecked random parts of your body in the process. At the end, you stepped into the vessel and realized that the water temperature was perfect. At your relaxed expression, Yuchan unwrapped his lower half and your eyes got stuck on his happy trail.

"Fuck" you cursed without meaning it. He got visibly confused at your curse. You performed the cutest puppy eyes you could in order to have him sitting on the edge of the tub. In that position, you could lick his lower abdomen down his pelvis as you stroked his dick. "Your tongue is ticking me, love" he whined. "Want me to stop?" you asked. "Noooo"

#a.c.e scenarios #a.c.e smut #jun scenario #jun smut #donghun smut #donghun scenario #wow scenario #wow smut #kim byeongkwan smut #kim byeongkwan scenario #chan smut #chan scenario

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bangtanboyz22 · 2 years

Note

Hey, can you do a Straykids Bang Chan 10+13+21 (Prompt List1)? thanks 😊❤️

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

10. “God, you always make me blush so much.”

13. “From the first second I saw you, I couldn’t get over how beautiful you were.”

21. “Wow, you look stunning.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Chan try to go out on a date at least every other week. This week was that week, normally he would give you little clues as to where you were going so you could dress appropriately so this time he told you to wear something a bit on the fancier side.

Just finishing up getting ready, you heard a knock on your door. You smiled rushing towards the door opening it for your boyfriend to step inside. When he didn't immediately walk in, you looked up at him but his eyes were focused on you with his mouth open a bit.

"Wow, you look stunning," he told you finally breaking out of his trance. Once he said that you looked down at your shoes that you were putting on while blushing. "Truly just stunning," he added kneeling down in front of you helping you put your shoes on.

"Thank you. I wanted to look nice tonight and found this outfit in my closet. Should I go change? Is it not right for where we're going?" you asked him letting him finish putting your shoes on your feet.

"You look perfect baby. You have always been beautiful to me. From the first second I saw you, I couldn't get over how beautiful you were," he said looking you in the eye before holding his hand out to you.

"God, you always make me blush so much," you said taking his hand and grabbing your bag before the two of you headed out for the night.

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blu-joons · 2 years

Text

BEST FRIEND VICTON A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Heo Chan

A ⇴ ATTENTION

He liked to pay attention to you, but Chan would always deny paying any attention to you when he got caught out. Everyone always knew when he was though as he had a shy smile plastered on his face.

B ⇴ BICKER

You constantly laughed with each other, and you constantly bickered too. You annoyed each other more than you annoyed anyone else in the world, and you knew exactly how to start getting digs in with one another until you were both talking absolute nonsense back across at one another whilst bickering.

C ⇴ COMFORT

If there’s one thing that you’re pretty reliant on Chan for, it’s the fact that he always knows exactly how to cheer you up. He knows exactly what works, whether it’s him trying to make you smile or him just sitting there for a little while and listening to you, if there’s one thing for sure, it’s that he’ll cheer you up again.

D ⇴ DISAGREEMENTS

Both of you didn’t like disagreements, you both worked hard to avoid those sorts of situations. Chan especially liked for there to be peace between you both, and so when he felt as if an argument was coming, he’d do everything that he could to stop it from happening. He would change the subject, go silent, trying and find something else to get your attention, whatever he could to stop tension brewing.

E ⇴ EARLY YEARS

Neither of you could really remember the start of your friendship because you were so young. It was one of your favourite things to do together, try and guess what the first thing that you said to each other would have been, or predict what qualities in one another would have drawn you two together to start your friendship knowing that you’d never actually get the answers that you were searching for.

F ⇴ FAMILY

Chan’s family were huge fans of yours, they loved having you around with them whenever Chan visited them. Parties, celebrations, special events, you got an invite to just about everything that his family did as they loved having you around so much. It wasn’t just that either, but his family loved seeing you and Chan together as the way that your friendship worked always left many of them laughing at you.

G ⇴ GETTING TOGETHER

Although the two of you aren’t afraid of going out when you hang out together, you both always make sure to be aware. Most of the time Chan will suggest a spot that he knows that he can usually go to without too many people recognising him, offering to take you over there too so that you don’t have to worry.

H ⇴ HABITS

The two of you had a habit of forgetting about the other people that you were spending time with. You often started in the conversation but then broke off into your own conversation instead, only realising what was happening when the rest of the table went silent and the two of you were still chatting.

I ⇴ INSIDE JOKES

Neither of you had a clue as to how many inside jokes you actually had together, you lost count many years ago. You were constantly remembering old inside jokes that you thought you’d forgotten or trying to forget some of the inside jokes that were remembered at either one of your expenses.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

If anything, you find yourself getting jealous quite a lot of the time at how well your friends get along with Chan. Whilst you don’t want a divide between them, you can’t help but sometimes feel stunned by how much effort he puts in with all of them to impress them. Chan never leaves any of them out when he hangs out with them through you and tries to make as many of them feel as comfortable with him as possible.

K ⇴ KICKS

Chan got a kick out of making you laugh; he didn’t need much to get a boost from you. He prided himself on knowing the exact right to make you smile and hoped that no one else could make you laugh as much as he could, as long as he heard you laughing or saw you smiling, that was all that mattered to him.

L ⇴ LOVE

He loved how close the two of you were, Chan was pretty much always by your side, very rarely being more than an arm’s length away. He loved being around you, finding out the things that you were doing and watching you hard at work too. Some liked to argue that Chan was obsessed with you, but he much preferred to see it as him just caring about you and taking as much of an interest as possible in you too.

M ⇴ MEETING

The two of you first met when you were at school, but that was all that either of you could really remember. Your days at school felt like a bit of a blur for you both, one day you just remembered talking to each other, and the next thing that you knew, you found yourselves where you were today.

N ⇴ NONSENSE

Most people know him for his enthusiasm and setting the mood, but you’re one of only a handful of people that really know Chan’s nonsense side, the side that is just Chan the person rather than Chan the idol.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Chan was obsessed with your laughter, he loved being the person to brighten up your day, even if it was just a tiny little bit, or make you laugh even more than you already were when you already wore your smile.

P ⇴ PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Being able to see you and celebrate his or your success together were the moments that meant the most to Chan. He loved the two of you doing well, whether it was something huge or something small, Chan used to as an excuse to celebrate with you and hang out with you too when you’d both been pretty busy.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He’ll talk to you constantly, and so Chan is often asking you questions just to keep the conversation going. He doesn’t care how random it is, or how boring you might find it too, Chan will carry on chatting and asking anyway.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

One of the things that Chan likes to do is teach you the killing points of the group’s songs so that you can dance at their concerts. No matter how many times you’d tell him that you knew the steps, Chan would teach you anyway to make sure that you had it spot on and to let you show off at his concerts too.

S ⇴ SUPPORT

Being able to see you supporting him almost meant a lot to Chan, if he wasn’t smiling already, he definitely would be knowing that you were there and cheering him on. He liked to think that he was your biggest fan, and so it always meant a lot to him knowing that you were his biggest fan at the same time too.

T ⇴ TRIPS

One of his favourite things to do is drive to your place and head out somewhere together. You often explore around the city, finding quiet spots that are left undiscovered by most people that you can escape to.

U ⇴ ULTIMATE

He knew how lucky he was to be able to carry you his best friend, having you around was something that Chan never took for granted.

V ⇴ VISITS

There was a smile like no other on Chan’s face whenever you surprised him at work. He loved knowing that you cared enough to see what he was doing, and he also loved being able to show off to you too.

W ⇴ WISDOM

He tried to cheer you up first and foremost whenever Chan gave you advice, that was always his priority with you.

X ⇴ XXXX

If the situation calls for a little bit of affection between the two of you, then Chan won’t be afraid to either give you a hug, or sometimes just give you a nudge to let you know that he’s right there beside you.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his constant; Chan couldn’t really remember not having you around.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Most if the time Chan will stay at your place when the two of you hang out as it’s a lot quieter than the dorm is, not to mention that they all sleep a lot better too without you two around making plenty of noise.

---

Masterlist

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sluttyminghao · 3 months

Note

Can we pls have hard dom dino punishing his partner out of jealousy, and perhaps maybe a little breeding kink if you’re feeling it (?) I love your writing sm btw I’ll literally reread my favs all the time🩷🩷

something for the birthday boy!

"why the fuck were you flirting with soonyoung?" his voice is strained and his eyes are dark as they bore into yours, something like anger flickering within them. he's got you pinned to the wall, with nowhere to go and wriggling out of his grip is futile.

"i-i wasn't...he just complimented me on my sweater!" you choke out, his intense stare making any words falter coming out of your mouth. he gives you a look of disbelief, his grip on your wrists tightening and a scoff falls from his lips.

"you really expect me to believe that? turn around and bend over." his voice is sharp and you don't want to make him angrier, so you quickly comply with his order. he wastes no time getting you into the perfect position and landing a harsh slap to your ass cheek.

the sting has you whimpering, and he only chuckles as he lands another slap on your other cheek, repeating the action until you're out of breathing and clinging to anything you can reach. he still doesn't seem satisfied with your punishment and makes it known to you.

"you're gonna take my cock like the good slut I know you are, right? gonna take all of me and let me breed you like a good little plaything." his voice is rough as he pushes your pants down and your panties to the side, and shoves his own pants down to his knees.

"will take all of sir's cock! promise I'll be good!" something inside of chan snaps at the pet name and the begging, and immediately he thrusts himself inside you and starts a quick pace. there's no mercy from him, and you cant think straight.

all you can hear is his soft groans and your whimpers, as well as your heartbeat racing erractically in your ears. it doesn't take long for him to bring you over the edge crying his name, with him cumming not long after, letting his warm cum fill you up.

"keep it all inside you, understood? if I see a single drop outside of your hole I'll be fucking you until you pass out."

#sluttyhao smut #sm: masterlist 2024 #kpop smut #kpop scenario #seventeen smut #seventeen scenario #dino smut #dino scenario #chan smut #chan scenario

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skzstayhere · 10 months

Text

As an avid fanfiction reader, can I say that the unprotected smut warning where the female is implied to be on birth control or (the pill) is worse than staright out unprotected intercourse?

Do yall even know how terrible birth control pills can be and how much the body has to go through to accomodate to them?

#skz fanfiction #fanfiction #tw #triggering content #trigger #trigger warning #scenarios #chan scenario #changbin scenario #leeknow scenario #hyunjin scenario #han scenario #felix scenario #seungmin scenario #i.n scenario #stray kids #skz smut #straykids fanfiction #feminism

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forlix · 4 months

Text

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date.

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck.

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence.

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips.

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade.

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

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astraystayyh · 2 months

Text

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

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