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hongism · 2 years

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yes no maybe - b.chan 18+

» b.chan x fem!reader » smut, slight angst, pwp » exes to lovers, one-sided enemies to lovers » language, explicit smut (specific smut warnings under the cut) » wc 8.7k » summary: saying you don’t ever want to see chan again would be overdramatic and irrational. saying you don’t want to go back to him however is an entirely different story. » a/n: we aren’t talking about it okay. title from the song ‘yes no maybe’ by miss bae suzy the lyrics fit the fic rather well <3

⇷ ♡ ⇸

smut specific warnings: public sex, semi-public sex, car sex, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, impregnation kink, marking, oral sex: f, multiple orgasms, cum eating, size kink, hair pulling, some dirty talk, petnames (darling, baby girl, sweetheart, princess once), some possessive themes, slight degradation (reader @ chan), praise, something of a hand/finger kink in there i kinda blacked out

⇷ ♡ ⇸

It’s not that you absolutely despise the man currently sitting across from you now, in this cramped and far too small cafe. Nor are you terribly annoyed by his presence even though you didn’t plan this little outing with him — frankly, he invaded your private time by deciding to sit in the armchair across the low table with his own coffee in hand. You were of half a mind to kick at his shins but the table is too low for you to reasonably do so without spilling your own drink and knocking his laptop off as well. You aren’t that kind of cruel, even if you mean to be a bit of a bother.

Seeing him now is nothing particularly new, at least not in your opinion. You see him around quite often all things considered, and seeing as the two of you work at the same place it is only inevitable that you bump shoulders here and there. At your favorite niche little coffee shop however? Absolutely not. Which means he followed you here.

“Can I help you with something?” You inquire as one of your legs crosses over your other knee. The position is a defensive one of course, with your arms brought up to cross over your chest and all, but your sudden guest pays your shortness no mind.

“Just here to grab some coffee and get some work done,” he replies through a sickeningly sweet smile that’s coupled with deep dimples pinching valleys into his cheeks. You force your gaze to the window on your right and stare out at some squirrel trying to steal a lady’s muffin. If you think too deeply about it — which you’re begging yourself to not do — you’re certain you would feel the ghosting sensation of his soft lips across yours, along with the gentle caress of his hands down bare skin.

You squeeze your eyes shut to push those fragmented memories out of your head.

Perhaps there was a time when you tolerated Bang Chan a little more than you do now.

That’s neither here nor there because right now it’s all down to the man who occupies the seat a little ways away from you and you are begging yourself to have an ounce of self-control and restraint to keep from doing something you regret. It’s more likely that you’ll say something unnecessarily hostile in your efforts though.

“You working on the installation piece for next month?” He leans forward enough to glance over the lip of his own computer and at the notepad you have splayed out on the table. Quickly, your hand slaps down over the paper in a poor attempt to conceal your designs there. To no avail, of course, because your hand can’t cover the whole paper on its own, and Chan, in his neverending bout to see you squirm, flicks his gaze up to meet your fiery one. The glint in his eyes is twofold: knowing and teasing. You swallow down the insult fighting to breach your lips.

“No peeking,” you say instead, nose wrinkling as Chan leans back with a loud laugh. “Amanda doesn’t want us to collaborate until next week.”

“Playing goody two shoes now won’t do you any good, baby girl. You forget I’ve seen all your dirty little secrets behind closed and open doors.” His posture is lackadaisical in a way, nonchalant just for the sake of pissing you off, and you know that because it’s become something of a default stance for him to take for the past several months now. Or if you’re being more specific, since you broke things off with him.

“Then let’s talk about why you followed me here.”

“Me? Following you? Hardly.”

Your lips curl into a frown, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by your companion, but you ignore his stare in favor of picking up your notepad once more. Pen in hand, you draw your knees up onto the seat to keep Chan from seeing any more of your work.

“Do you wish I was? You need me to want you to get off at night or something?”

Your composure fractures a hair. Knuckles bleed white, and you whip your chin up to glare holes into Chan’s forehead only to be met with the same irritating gaze as before.

“Don’t,” is the only threat you can muster without fully cussing him out here in public.

“Maybe I was following you. Just a little, to see where you scurry off to during project breaks. Hyunjin says you always go to the same place, so I had to see for myself. And what do you know? He was right.”

“Hyunjin is a fucking snitch.”

“You still wanted to fuck him, didn’t you?”

A low blow, by Chan’s standards, although you can’t blame him for it.

Maybe at the end of the day all the anger you direct towards Chan is simply a result of your own missteps and faults months ago. There’s still a myriad of reasons floating through your head about what pushed you to the decision, along with what was going through your ex’s head as he agreed so readily and without a second thought.

“And I did, thanks. It was wonderful.”

“I can tell based on how you don’t speak to each other anymore. Although… I guess that tends to be a trend with you and your boytoys, doesn’t it?”

You slam your foot down on the tiled floor so hard that it echoes a bit and startles the customer at the table just adjacent to your little corner. Before you can even part your lips to spit out a retort, Chan is speaking again.

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore, y/n? Thought you promised there was no bad blood between us.” His tone is still soft and amiable, enough to make drop your defense a hair and settle back more comfortably in your seat once more.

“Isn’t that how it always is?” you mumble. It borders on the bitter side if you’re being honest with yourself. “Anyway, Hyunjin is the one who stopped talking to me. After I told him I didn’t think it was working out. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Could be. We promised to stay cordial after all.” Chan shrugs and brings his laptop to rest on his knees. He won’t look at your face now, yet you’re almost grateful for that.

“I don’t think cordial entails telling you the details about my past relationships.”

He dares to look at you then, but you drop your eyes first. He pushes his laptop to the side without explanation then gets to his feet and steps away from the chair and table. You nearly believe he’s just going to up and leave like that, abandoning his belongings with you without rhyme or reason. He turns when he reaches the edge of the counter and heads right back towards you though. Upon reaching you, he breaks out into one of his stupid trademark grins that never fails to make your stomach do backflips. He juts a hand out into the space between your bodies.

“Hi, y/n. My name is Bang Chan, I believe we work in the same department under the same creative lead, Amanda Wang. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you hiss out between gritted teeth. It’s easy to slap at the offending hand dangling in the air before you. Even as you smack him away, Chan laughs like you’ve just told the funniest joke known to man. He collapses back into his previously-occupied armchair, still laughing without a care in the world. “You only came here to embarrass me, is that it? Am I just supposed to never show my face here again, you twat?”

Chan grins wider.

“Come on, that’s not really what you wanna call me. Put a little more fire in there, baby.”

You ignore his request in favor of checking the clock on your phone. Half-past three. If you walk back now, you’ll be at least ten minutes late to check back in with your team leader.

“Great and now I’m late to getting back to the office because of you.”

“I drove here,” Chan says. He’s still smiling.

“Isn’t that convenient?” You sneer in return, almost hating the arrogance rolling off his shoulders.

“For me, yeah. Don’t think I heard myself offering you a ride though.”

The nerve.

Your lips part in disbelief while Chan just leans forward as he closes his laptop. His tongue pokes out between his lips, and you catch a glimpse of that little ball of metal that rests at the center.

“Could beg for it…” he pushes the device back into his messenger bag, maintaining the same cocky eye contact with you all the while. “Or I’m sure Hyunjin would pick up the phone if you called.”

It’s then that you recall exactly why you had ample reason to break things off with Chan, and why you weren’t the one solely in the wrong over the course of your relationship.

Three slow blinks later, you’re packing your own bag with an annoyed huff and a sting to your eyes that’s humiliating at best.

“I’d rather risk being late. Thanks though.”

“A-Ah, y/n, I was just kidding! You don’t — there’s no need to beg, I’ll give you a ride back.”

For whatever reason, his insistence stops you in your tracks, and you pause to look into his eyes for any sign of more insincerity. You find none. It’s the only reason you let yourself agree.

“No funny business, Chan, I was already late once this week because of traffic.”

He throws his hands up and shakes his head almost immediately.

“You have my word.”

For all that’s worth, you say to yourself rather than out loud because you aren’t keen on picking a fight when he’s already rubbed salt in a wound that hasn’t fully healed yet.

There’s a sort of familiarity as you follow him out of the cafe and to his dingy pick-up truck that he’s had since well before you met him. The kind that sends you back several months and plunges you into ice-cold waters of what you used to have with him before it all ended in a mess of gasoline and flames. The same feeling pesters you as he pulls the passenger door open for you and keeps a hand near your lower back just in case you fall because you always had a tendency to slip on the running boards. The plan you had to give him the silent treatment on the ride back to the office goes out the window when he settles into the driver’s seat beside you.

“I’ve tried, you know. To call Hyunjin. Or just text him. Kinda hard when he’s got my number blocked.”

Chan wets his lower lip and plugs the keys in without saying anything. That silence persists for longer than is comfortable, and you start to backtrack when it gets too unbearable.

“Forget it, what am I saying? You don’t even care about my relationship with him, you’re probably happy that I’m mis—”

“I’m not. I’m not happy that you’re upset or that you’re hurt, especially when I know you’re lying when you say you were the one to break things off.” He twists the keys, and the truck revs to life. The radio blasts something by The Weeknd over the speakers, something new and recent that you had half a mind to send him a text about when it dropped because sharing music with each other used to be oh so frequent in your lives. The music thumps through the vehicle, loud and grating against your ears like you’re in a club rather than a car, and you find yourself staring over at Chan yet again.

The blue tone to his hair is fresh, something you noticed about a week ago when he first got it, and if you dared to be perfectly honest you’d have no issue admitting how damn good it looks against his skin tone. Other than that, he’s not really changed. Not that you expected him to — you see the man five days a week in the office, it’s not like he’s just drastically changed overnight or anything but still. A big dumb dangly silver hoop hanging from his ear to match the chunky bracelet around his wrist to match whatever tough-guy aesthetic he’s always gone for (it’s a farce to you; you know him better than that, you know that he’s a softie under all those layers). It shouldn’t surprise you or catch you off-guard that he’s visually no different from the man you used to know so well. But here you are lamenting what was and the way things are now because perhaps part of you knew that talking to him like nothing had changed would make those old, buried feelings spring up without any effort on your part.

The way he drives infuriates you just as it used to as well, simply on account of how damn distracting it is for you. One hand clenching the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles shift with even the slightest movement, the other drumming over the center console in time with the beat of the music.

You suppose you can only be grateful that he’s not pestering you for more information about the relationship just after him or whether there had been others along the way. He probably knows there was no one else except for Hyunjin already; it’s rather hard to keep a secret from a man you work with when your team is so full of gossipers.

“You going to the company dinner Friday night?” he asks instead, both catching you in the act of ogling his hands and abrupting bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt. You’d forgotten about that precious little thing. Company dinner means seeing two of your exes in one place, which you aren’t particularly keen on, but work comes before pesky relationship woes. All you can do is hum a small noise of approval for several seconds.

“Kinda have to, don’t we?”

“Eh, don’t think Amanda really keeps track by the end of the night. Going to the new club downtown, remember?”

You’ve done well to avoid such outings for a long while now, at least the ones where you knew at least one of your exes would be present, so you’re of half a mind to play the avoidance game yet again to preserve yourself from making bad decisions.

“I’m driving myself if you need a designated driver.”

“You know I don’t like getting drunk,” you say through a half-smile, one that Chan mirrors without looking over at you.

“If you need a ride then.”

It’s firm and final right then, both the fact that you are most definitely attending the club night this week and that you’re allowing yourself some room to make some god-awful decisions that same night.

⇷ ♡ ⇸

It’s already well into the evening by the time you show up at the bar with one of your other coworkers on your arm. She’s already had a bit to drink, considering how she’s giggling and clinging to you like her life depends on it, but your stomach has been flipping over itself and causing you nothing but pain since noon hit. The option to call out sick lingered in the back of your head. You shot it down without second thought; it isn’t that you really can’t help yourself, simply you’re already in this deep. Why would you back out now?

Mina leaves your side the second you get inside, which is only mildly concerning because you catch sight of your boss on your left, and seeing her catch the other clumsy woman is reassuring enough by your standards. You migrate closer to the bar at the same time with your fingers tugging loosely at the hem of your black dress.

“Your boss ordered drinks for the whole night. Feel free to ask for anything on the menu,” the bartender tells you as you settle your hands on the wood. You give a small nod in reply and blink down at the paper he slides your way.

“They’ve got your favorite.” A new voice, cold and unwelcome, along with a hand that moves to settle on the other side of your body even though the newcomer stops on your right side. His arm is long enough to wrap around you without him being fully pressed into you and if that wasn’t clue enough, he’s also not built the way Chan is. Too tall, too lanky, too familiar as well though. “The Leg Spreader.”

“How clever. Did you look that one up before you came?” you mutter back, pushing the paper forward as you shrug yourself out of his caging grasp. “Just an Old fashioned is fine, thank you.” You twist to put your back to the lip of the bar, and in a desperate attempt to ignore the man lingering beside you, you blink around the club for anything that’s more interesting than him. It’s rather packed, but that’s to be expected for a Friday night, and you can hardly see through the mass of bodies under the club’s strobe lights. All the more shocking for Hyunjin to be wasting away next to you.

“You finally toughen up, doll?” Hyunjin settles beside you, almost seeming to accept his defeat in not pulling a bigger reaction out of you. “Boring.”

“You wasted enough of my time, don’t you think?”

“Oh come on, we both got what we were after, didn’t we?” His elbow knocks into your side like it’s merely a jest, but you’re rolling your eyes and looking the other way before he can laugh in your face. “It’s just that one of us wanted a little more than what was offered.”

You’re second-guessing your drink choice now, and something that hits harder feels a lot more tempting now. Maybe shots? Shots are always a good idea, right?

“Night’s barely begun, Hyunjin, let’s not ruin it yet. Find me later if you wanna argue.” He’s clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth a moment later, then pushing off the bar right after. It’s clue enough that you’re about to be free of his presence in the very least, so you turn back to the bar to check on your drink. You should know better than to think that he would leave without getting the last word in, however, because you’ve barely thanked the bartender before Hyunjin’s voice is hitting your eardrums again.

“We both know who’s gonna be playing that game later, and it surely won’t be me. Try not to embarrass yourself in front of the whole club like you did last time.”

The hilarious (or disheartening depending on how you view it) part is that the man has every right to say such a thing and you can hardly be mad at him for speaking the truth. Better to suffer a little humiliation from him now rather than by a whole crowd of people later.

“y/n, y/n!” Mina is back on your arm, grabbing onto you as you nurse your drink, and with her comes your boss. “Let’s go dance, please. Don’t wanna dance with strangers alone.” You don’t have time to glance over at the other woman with you before Mina is tugging you away from the bar. Amanda simply waves you away and takes the spot you just occupied by the bar, no doubt ordering a drink for herself in the meantime.

Mina brings you to the outer edge of the dance floor, where the crowd isn’t as thick, and you’re grateful for that much. The slightly shorter girl drapes her arms around your neck in an attempt to support her own weight as she starts to sway in time with the thumping bass of the music. You aren’t much of a dancer yourself, so you simply let her take over and try your best to match her rhythm even if it’s stilted and awkward on your part. It isn’t long before she’s pressing up into your space to shout over the music.

“I saw Hyunjin corner you at the bar! I’m sorry.” Her tipsy pout is genuine enough, and you appreciate it for what it is because she knows: the on-off relationship you had with Chan prior to fooling around with Hyunjin and the catastrophe that was that relationship with Hyunjin both. “I don’t see why he can’t leave well enough alone. Annoying ass.” She huffs through her pout then tips her head back to look at the ceiling. “I bet if you got on with some other guy tonight he’d finally realize you aren’t trying to get in his pants anymore.”

There’s no use trying to reason with her when she’s already this far gone but part of you wants to argue that he’d only view it as something desperate and lame on your part, and you don’t quite feel up to banging a stranger tonight either. The only shame is that Chan has yet to make an appearance.

Mina dips further back and knocks her head into someone’s chest, a rather tough-looking someone at that based on how he’s dressed in a tight black turtleneck and a leather jacket to overlap it. But then you’re looking up to his face to find strong features and a head of blue hair that glows a little under the club lights. Hardly someone tough after all.

“Care to take her off my hands?” you ask over the thrum of the music. Chan laughs as he weaves around Mina’s flailing limbs.

“Rather dance with you, if I’m being honest.”

Ah, this is dangerous.

Unfortunately, you can’t just abandon Mina here alone to chase some dick, no matter how good or big it might be.

Then again, Chan seems to have other plans. He wraps himself around your other side, stepping behind you without quite laying his hands on you yet, and you think he’s about to grab your waist when his breath kisses the shell of your ear.

“Is it alright if I touch you?”

A sharp inhale, and you’re already falling into the intoxication that always comes with Chan. He’s wearing your favorite scent, the cologne you gifted him last year for his birthday, and that alone is ridiculous to the point of hilarity.

“Go for it, big boy.”

He hums at that, but you moreso feel the vibrations rushing through his chest as he presses up against your back. His large hands push around your waist to settle on your abdomen. One quick glance down and you feel yourself swallow around nothing, not because of how low his hands are against your body but rather the way the tips of his index and middle fingers can overlap with how he’s holding you.

Mina’s lost herself in the music now, and it’s clear that she has no intention of tuning back into any sort of conversation you might try to have with her. So, you throw your head back against Chan’s shoulder and twist to press your mouth close to the curve of his jaw.

“You’re a menace.”

“Was hoping you’d call me a dumb bastard, darling.”

A laugh breaches your lips, but it sounds more sarcastic than anything.

“There’ll still be time for that later, I’m sure.” You hadn’t meant to say that out loud or to fall into Chan’s whims with such practiced ease either. Yet here you are, ready and willing to sign yourself over to a repeat of the more pleasurable parts of the relationship you had with him. He’s so insufferable you’d almost rather smack him upside the head and cuss him out for ensnaring you with such little trouble. You’d probably have to knock yourself out in the meantime to keep from being hypocritical on top of that.

“Miss you,” Chan murmurs against the spot just underneath your ear. The riskiness of your position has your head swimming. Mina is still in front of you, still trying to encourage you to dance like Chan isn’t seducing you right before her eyes. You’re also still on the outskirts of the dance floor and not far from the bar. Your boss no doubt sees the whole scene unfolding at the same time. Hyunjin is nowhere on your mind, not even to flare up the old flames of I hope he sees this, I hope he misses what he had, it’s just a dizzying blend of Chan, Chan, Chan. “I miss the way your body feels under me, on top, when you’re riding me, the pretty sounds you make…” His lips press a daring kiss to your skin, one that’s a little hesitant and aims to test the waters. You’re oh so receptive to his advances, keening into the touch without care. “Miss the way we fought.”

You laugh again, and once more it’s ironic and insincere.

“You can’t possibly miss that.”

“More than you think.” Chan dares to be more bold in the way his lips brush across your neck, and he inches the neckline of your dress down at the nape of your neck with his chin just to kiss there. The metal on his tongue is warm as he drags it over your heated skin. “You always let me fuck you so nicely after we fought. Called me such pretty names as I went down on you like it was all I was good for.” A scoff escapes you.

“They were hardly pretty. I called you useless and pathetic more often than not. But that’s what you liked, wasn’t it?”

Chan shrugs against you, and you can feel his softly exhaled laugh blossom over your neck.

“Loved when you were mean to me, yeah, it made me feel like I had something to prove. Always wanted to fuck you harder and better because of it.”

“You wanted to prove your stroke game was passable at best,” you murmur, pulling a hand up behind your head to latch onto Chan’s hair. Your fingers push through his locks and find purchase there. A tug and a pull later, and the man is groaning into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Someone who merely wanted to be my friend again wouldn’t be acting like this.”

“When’s the last time you got laid?”

“It’s been… a while.”

“Lemme fix that.”

“C-Chan.” Your breath stutters as his hands start to wander over your abdomen. The resolve you were clinging to so desperately is in absolute shambles by now, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to not abandon your friend right here and now to go off to some corner of the club. “Not n-now.”

“Not now. But sometime tonight, yeah?”

“Cocky bastard,” you huff out, but you’re smiling through the words nonetheless. “You’re taking me home, aren’t you? I recall some himbo offering me a ride.”

“That’d be me.” Chan’s hands retreat to your hips, thumbs lingering to rub circles over the fabric of your satin dress. It does nothing to curb your wanton desire for him. If anything, it makes the desire to check the time and calculate how early you can leave without making your boss upset even stronger. “Cocky bastard and the eager to please himbo. Don’t discount my hard work, baby girl. Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Shouldn’t be that hard for you now, should it?” You drag your hand lower, slipping past his shoulder and moving down until it rests between your ass and the front of his pants. The bulge resting against your palm is indication enough about how aroused he is already, and you can’t keep your laugh to yourself. “All this from some sweet talking? Baby, it seems like you’re the one who needs to get laid.”

The soaring feeling in your chest heightens as Chan growls into your skin. His fingers tighten, and he pulls you closer to his body as best he can. You squeeze around his half-hard member at the same time, clenching his pants and underwear under your fingers. Then you’re pulling away from him in the blink of an eye and softly grabbing hold of Mina’s arms to steer her off the dancefloor. You can hardly focus on making sure she’s alright with Chan pressing his dick against your ass at the same time. Better to drop her off with Amanda instead of trying (and failing) to divide your focus. Chan moves with you, and his hand lingers near the small of your back as you push closer to the bar.

“Amanda, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to head out early,” you announce upon pushing Mina into the seat beside your boss. “Some girl stuff just hit me unprepared and I left my medicine at home. Is it alright if I run home?”

“Knock yourself out! This one’s just for fun anyway, you don’t have to stay!”

“I offered to drive her home if that’s okay,” Chan adds, leaning up on the balls of his feet. Amanda blinks between your cool and collected expression and Chan’s flushed cheeks for a few seconds. You’re almost certain she sees right through the ruse, but then she grins from ear to ear and waves a dismissive hand through the air.

“Ever the gentleman! Take good care of her for all of us.” With that, Amanda sends you both a little wink then shifts her focus to Mina’s slouched form against the bar. You don’t have to try hard to grip Chan’s wrist and pull him towards the exit; not with him trailing after you like a lost puppy. You barely make it to his truck in the parking lot before he’s taking control again, hands snaking up to your waist and pushing you to the nearest solid surface, which just so happens to be the dirty exterior of his truck door. You open your mouth to complain about the treatment, only to have Chan’s lips invade your own with just enough pressure to steal the breath from your lungs. It’s been far too long since you tasted him, and even now it’s something sickeningly sweet on his lips. You lap at it like its pure candy, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth just to nip at the skin and feel his weight shudder against you.

“Overachiever,” you murmur into his mouth as he pulls back just enough to look at you. The grin he sends your way in response is coy, only heightened when you hear the click of the car doors behind you. “Mine or yours?”

“Backseat.”

“Chan, I’m not letting you fuck me in a club parking lot,” you whine.

“Just let me have a taste then. I don’t think I can wait until we’re at your place.” His gaze finds yours for a mere moment, but the need is flashing across his features in that same second. You truly can’t help yourself.

“Aw, Chan, isn’t this a bit pathetic? If you needed me so badly all this time, I would’ve taken care of you.” You press up into his space, forehead knocking against his hard enough to make your noses bump together. “Do you want me to take care of you, baby? Need my pussy to get off?”

“Maybe I do,” he says back without missing a beat, and then his hands are shifting lower to tuck under the curve of your ass. He speaks with such certainty too, like it’s a fact you ought already know, and you can’t quite recall a time where he didn’t beat around the bush before admitting what he wanted. “Or maybe I’m fine with letting you use me to get off too.” He holds you to the side as he yanks open the door to the backseat, and there’s a thrum of anticipation under your skin, rushing through your veins with enough speed that you’ll probably pass out if you move too quickly. Chan tests that theory with his next question as it has you whipping your head towards him so quickly the world spins in your vision. “Think you can ride my face here?”

“Oh my god, are you serious?”

One corner of his lips pulls up enough to flash a dimple.

“Come on, it’s all I’m good for really.” You know that his arrogance is all bluff, unlike other men you’ve brushed elbows (and less appropriate parts) with because at the core of it all Chan might like being degraded some, but he craves the validation and reassurance that comes right after.

“Okay, move, you bastard, or I’m gonna lose my mind on you for good.” Chan laughs as he scrambles his way up into the backseat, and you’re hot on his heels as he lays himself out across the length of the cushions. “At least your height is good for something,” you quip once the door snaps shut behind you. His hands brush over the bare skin of your thighs right after, and whatever further jabs you had on your mind dissipate like dust in the wind because of his hands — his stupidly big hands that spread over your legs with maddening heat. You can do nothing but stumble forward on all fours as he urges you up his body with those same hands. They wander higher the closer you get to his face, pads of his fingers pushing up under the hem of your dress until they can latch around the lace of your panties. A whimper (one that you tried to bite back) escapes when he yanks the fabric down over your ass and thighs roughly.

“Now can I take care of you?” Chan asks from between your legs, hands settling on your ass once he’s got your underwear wrapped around only one ankle.

“Please.”

You anticipate the first drag of his tongue through your folds, but it’s a sensation you’ve been utterly robbed of for months so it catches you off-guard. The tip of his nose shoves into your cunt as he pushes his tongue lower, and that alone has you throwing a hand down into his dark blue locks for just a bit of purchase. Head thrown back, you toss yourself over to the electrifying pleasure he’s pushing into your body. The string of words that leaves your mouth next is an odd cacophony of curses and his name muttered in quick succession. You can’t very well look down at his face right now without melting on the spot either because he has such a knack for staring so intensely up at your expression while going down on you like this. Your other hand grips the headrest closest to you, nails digging into the cushion with the same fervor that the one in Chan’s hair has.

The first flick of his tongue has your body curling in on itself, with an embarrassingly loud moan to accompany it.

“Fuck, just — just like that.”

Chan hums into your cunt like he’s trying to speak through you. It simply sends a rush of pleasurable vibrations through you, and you tug harder at his hair as though it will do any good.

“So good, you’re so good, Chan, please.” He delves deeper into you at the encouragement. Nose brushing hard against your clit, you feel the stud through his tongue rub up against the inside of your walls and just about fall apart right then and there. You don’t want to reach your high now, not yet, not when you’ve barely had him, but the way he’s urging your hips to follow the motions of his wet muscle isn’t doing you any favors. You fear you might cum all over his face like this without any warning. Your thighs quiver around his head, and that’s what ultimately makes you blink down at him — simply an effort to see whether you’re choking him out or not. Unfortunately, you’re met with a lust-filled gaze that is drenched in arousal strong enough to make your own gut rush to match it. There’s a challenge in his gaze, the kind that’s teasing and urging.

You gonna cum?

“Yes, p-please, you insufferable bastard, make me cum like this.”

Do you like it?

“It’s so good, love your tongue in me, please don’t stop.”

Chan pulls your hips forward with more urgency as your muscles start trembling even further, and it’s the brush of his nose over your clit that finally sends you careening over the edge. Your body seizes atop him as white-hot pleasure surges through you. The only thought running through your mind is Chan and how damn good he feels even after all this time, and you don’t even have his dumb cock in you yet. Another whimper pushes past the seam of your lips. The man underneath you slowly rubs his palms over the tops of your thighs, easing you down from your high like not a day has passed since the last time he did this. You let him shift your positions until he’s got you seated in his lap rather than on his chin. It’s easy to wrap his broad body up in your arms, rake your fingers through his hair with more gentleness this time, and simply catch your breath in a daringly intimate moment. He’s kissing you now, and you can taste yourself on his lips, but it’s not a bother when he sucks your tongue into his mouth to explore deeper. Your grip on his head grows firmer as you become more desperate to taste him further. You can’t keep your hands from wandering either because it’s been too long since you got to have him like this, to feel his body under your fingertips. Even through the clothes, you seek to explore the lines of his body from width of his muscled shoulders down to beneath his jacket where his raised pecs sit and even lower to his solid abdomen and the pretty thickness of his waist. You crave him in an absolutely carnal way, want to unravel him with just your hands, yet you want him to do the same to you.

You’re just cum, and the sneaking lust for more is already budding in your gut.

“Your place is closer than mine,” you murmur into his mouth. He pulls off your lips with a wet pop. There’s a little string of saliva that dangles down from his lower lip that you’re tempted to kiss off.

“You sure?”

“I’ll stay over,” you reply, plucking up the courage to brush your thumb over his mouth instead. “Just for tonight.”

Just for tonight is a bold dip into something you know you’ll have to address later, but Chan thankfully doesn’t choose to press the topic for now. Maybe in the morning when you wake up in his bed and stumble to the kitchen to find him cooking those damn domestic breakfasts he loves prepping for you.

You ease off his body to crawl into the passenger seat, kicking your underwear off onto Chan’s lap with a laugh and a giggle that bursts from your chest without thought. He’s close behind although he suffers a lot more trouble than you do thanks to how much stockier he is, but when he crawls up into his own seat (thankfully without kicking the horn on the steering wheel) he tosses your panties back into your face.

“Hey!”

“They’re yours, baby girl.”

“I don’t expect to need them later,” you grumble back without much heat to your tone. His hand falls over the center console to rest on your thigh, and you nearly shove him off in a huff before you decide to let him have his way for now.

At some point on the drive, you realize that you’re being far too obvious in the way you’re staring directly at his side profile. It’s also likely apparent that you aren’t really staring at him with unhinged sexual desire either, but moreso something wistful. Part of you hates that you missed this so much, missed just being in his presence and surrounded by him in such a way. But perhaps there’s some weight to the saying that what goes around comes around, and this thing you had with Chan — whether good or bad — is swinging back in your direction.

You intertwine your fingers through his as you climb the stairs to his apartment, leading the way even though it’s his home and not yours. Once inside the door, he’s pressing you up against the wood with a newfound fervor. Hands under your dress and pushing upwards without relent, until you’re naked before him with dress and bra scattered. He helps you remove his own clothes and throws them off to the side in a similar manner until he’s just left in his underwear and stupid little snowman socks that he’s wearing in the middle of autumn for whatever reason. You don’t have the time or energy to comment.

“How do you want me?” He asks against your lips, and you whisper your response in the same way.

“Want you to fuck me like you don’t know how to do anything else.”

“I’m yours then.” Chan laughs and it echoes a little before he’s lifting you up to his hips and securing your legs behind his back.

“Mine, huh?” That lifts your ego some, a feeling that he does well to intensify as his lips latch onto the unmarked skin around the base of your neck. You don’t stop him from leaving marks there, nor does he need to ask permission to do suck at the skin until it blooms with reds under his lips. The two of you knock into his cramped bedroom with no amount of grace. You hit the mattress with an oof and a breathy giggle that Chan swallows with a kiss as his broad form drapes down over yours.

“You’re mine too,” he says through kisses. You simply lay back and drink in his touches, humming to yourself as his lips kiss a path down your torso and between the valley of your breasts. Large hands come up to rub over your nipples. “All mine. You’ve always been mine.” His mouth lingers around your stomach, just below your chest as he continues to pinch your sensitive buds into firmness, then he’s pulling up again to latch around one of your breasts like that.

“Want your underwear off,” you complain through his ministrations, because as welcome as they are, you would much rather have the sizable package he’s keeping tucked away even now. “Want your dumb dick in me, Chan, come on.”

He laughs around your nipple, teeth still latched around the skin. You watch his gaze slide up your body to settle on your face. Then he tugs upwards harshly, drawing a loud moan out of you along with making your back arch off the bed.

“Anything for you, princess. I’ll give you anything you want.” He leans back off the bed to drop his underwear to the ground. Although you don’t see him moving for anything, you still rush to get your next request out before he can.

“Condom?” It comes out as a question instead accidentally.

“You want one?” He asks back.

“I’m fine without if you are.”

“Really been that long since you banged someone, huh sweetheart?”

“You’re one to talk, big boy. Don’t see you claiming a need for one,” you counter, pushing up onto your elbows to level him with a half-hearted glare.

“Maybe I’m good about using protection.” Chan shrugs as he leans down over you once more. He’s on all fours when you grab hold of his face and tug him towards your own with his cheeks pinched between your fingers.

“You never were. Liked it raw too much.”

He stares at your lips before teasing the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

“Just with you, darling. Always wanted to fuck you full of my kids after all.”

You’re laughing as you sprawl yourself out on the bed.

“Come on and actually do it this time then.” Mostly joking, the slightest bit serious, and some parts curious to see how much enthusiasm it’ll put in your partner. You’re pleasantly surprised when he rushes down to join you, hands scrambling to hook under your thighs, and he almost seems fully ready to fuck his dick into you right then and there with no assistance whatsoever. And yeah, you don’t mind a bit of a stretch, but you’ll flay him alive if he tries to take you without at least a little lube. “Get the lube, dumbass, we don’t need to be going to the emergency room because you got too eager and tore my vag open.”

“You can’t — ugh, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to lose my shit.” Chan lets go of you to rifle through his bedside table. You nearly coo at the pout on his lips.

“Such a good husband you’d be, darling. So eager to do your job and get me pregnant.” It’s not even your typical brand of dirty talk, not the first thing you go for or an idea you’re particularly into but Chan’s enthusiasm is endearing enough to make you want to tease him.

“That why you want me to go in raw so badly?” His quip comes with the click of the lube cap, and you wait for him to squirt some onto his palm before you dare to respond, just in case he loses his shit and spills it everywhere.

“Just like when you fuck me full of your cum actually.”

To his credit, he goes absolutely still for a good four seconds before he’s slinging curses your way and muttering about some insane woman in his bed that he can’t get enough of. You welcome him back between your legs with a grin on your lips, locking your ankles on the small of his back as he slicks up his thick length.

“Ready for me?”

“I’ve been ready, you’re the one over here taking your sweet time like there’s no rush!”

“Well, I did make you cum before we came here. Figured that would stave you over a little.” You huff and slide a hand up to cup the back of his neck.

“You and I both know that I’m a bit insatiable.”

“Good for me since I’m so… what was it you used to say? Virile?” His cock teases your folds now, rubbing along your wet slit with no hurry, but you can see his fragile resolve about to snap. You sink back into the mattress as he brings his hands down to rest on either side of your head.

“Have at it then, babe, show me how good that stamina is.”

He drives into you slowly despite your jab, although you’re more than a little thankful for that because the stress is more than you remember and he feels a whole lot thicker than he looks.

“Your cunt miss me that much? You’re taking me right in already,” Chan teases. If you didn’t know that he’s simply trying to distract you from the worst of the stretch, you’d probably reach up to smack him upside the head. He sinks in fully, hesitating inside you to wait for your breathing to even out and become steady once more. “You were made for my dick, yeah?”

“Other way around, love, your cock was made for me.”

He drops his forehead to yours with a shaky huff, a testament to how much restraint he’s showing in not moving yet. That little inkling of wanting to tease him endlessly floats up in your head again, but you shove it to the side in favor of chasing your own pleasure as well as rewarding him for giving you so much already tonight.

“’m ready, I can take you.”

The kiss he leaves on your forehead is far too intimate, but then again your position is much of the same.

Chan pulls out to the tip then drives his cock back into you with one sharp thrust. He searches for a pace like that, thrusting into you with a series of stuttered pumps into your tight walls before he finally settles on a steady rhythm. He rolls his hips against you, and his eyes don’t leave your face for a second until he sees your expression contort with pleasure. The first knock of his cockhead into your sweet spot has you seeing stars.

“Feel good?” he grunts out between thrusts.

“So good, so full. Hngh, Chan, you’re so big in me.”

“Want me to keep going?”

“Yeah, just like that, please keep fucking me just like that,” you moan, pushing your head further back into the bed as your back arches up into his wandering touches over your chest.

“Look at you, as pretty as ever… taking my cock so well. Don’t care what you say, you were made for it. Take it too well for me to think otherwise.” His words sort of drift in one ear and out the other, but it truly becomes white noise when one of his hands wanders down to rub circles over your sensitive clit in time with the drives of his length inside you.

“O-Oh, fuck.”

“Is it good, baby? Am I fucking you well?”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t — don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“Want my cum in you? Can fuck you so full it’ll spill out of you, just tell me what you want, pretty baby.”

“Make me cum,” you whine. You reach down to grab at his hand, but he knocks your offending fingers away with a quick swat then returns to rolling quick circles over your clit. “Please, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cream on my cock then, baby, I’ve got you.”

Your body seizes with a second bout of euphoric pleasure, but this time Chan doesn’t wait for you to recover; he fucks you through the motions of your orgasm, thrusts growing more and more erratic with each passing second until he’s about to burst himself.

“Can I cum in you now, darling? Gonna give me my reward and let me fuck you full of it?”

“Cum for me, Chan, please?”

It’s either the feeling of your walls pulsating around him or the little plea in your tone coupled with your watery and unfocused eyes that sends him spiraling, but he joins you like that with his cock twitching inside you as he fully buries himself in your heat. Your pussy milks him for all he’s worth, still fluttering while he spills his load into you. You can’t even find it in you to be bothered when his arms fully give out on him and his weight drops atop your body. All you have the energy to do is wrap a hand around his head where it rests just above your chest and run your fingernails over his damp scalp.

“If you bleed blue hair dye on me, I’m never letting you hear the end of it,” you murmur through your exhaustion.

“Mm, it’ll wash off in the shower. Just lemme… lemme enjoy this a little first.”

“You can enjoy it after we shower.”

“Nah, you’re all warm inside, don’t wanna move yet.”

“You’re gonna get it up again if you don’t get out of me now though!”

Chan lifts his head off your chest and blinks up at your pouting expression. There’s a fondness in his eyes you can’t place, and it probably comes with an emotion you’d rather not name.

A problem you can worry about later since the man seems intent on being a menace even now.

“Then we simply have round two in the shower.”

⇷ ♡ ⇸

a/n: i have no defense for myself... pls look away from my moment of weakness i won’t tell if u guys don’t... we can forget this happened....

this work belongs to calypso, hongism 2018-2022 - please do not copy, take, or otherwise steal this work. translating, reposting, or otherwise utilizing this work is not permitted.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz drabbles #skz imagines #caly.writes #dont read on dark mode the banner isn't transparent eeeee #unedited it's like... ass crack o clock... sorry....#pls ignore typos...

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