#lee chan angst

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Goodbye, Fourth of July (18+)

pairing: lee chan x fem!reader

genre: college au, best friends to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), hints of crack?

description: it's the fourth of july when you realize you're in love with your best friend. unfortunately though, it seems that he doesnt love you back, and this knowledge sends you spiraling. you push him away, but chan just wants to know why you're so upset

warnings: v v sad, pining, brief mention of s/a, chan is kinda dumb in this fr, reader is dramatic af tho, unprotected sex, desperation, praise kink, finger sucking, titty sucking, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl, sweet heart, good girl, cumslut once), mentions of alcohol and weed, irene is chans gf in this but shes not a villain shes mother fr

quotes from my proofreader: "my soul left my body", "no this is too personal", "i feel like im having a panic attack"

wordcount: 8.2k

Fireworks exploded across the sky the night your life was ruined. 

Down the gray, dim corridors of your campus where room after room was ablaze with idle lights, daring to imitate the stars above them. Every crevice of the left wing was filled with the noise and decorum of a college frat party, where people lived out their own lives simultaneously to yours - yours, that was shattering into millions of pieces onto Yoon Jeonghan’s kitchen floor. Every moment of teasing, of lingering touches, of adoring smiles, of secret memories and exchanged glances came hurdling onto you on the 4th of July, red solo cup long forgotten in your hand. You were in love with your best friend. 

“I’m in love with Chan,” you whispered, looking blankly across the room to see him leaned back against the couch, flashing a bright smile at Mingyu beside him. His blonde mullet - the one, that he had been so terrified to get, and only did so, when you told him he would look great - was tousled and spiky across his neck. He was wearing a red bomber jacket over a white tee, and he looked so good you thought you might cry. 

Soonyoung wouldn’t have heard your confession - was it a confession? Admittance? Defeat? - had he not been standing right beside you. He thanked God that your words were not lost to the music and to the ambiance, to lay and die in the sticky, hardwood floor. “What?!”

He was yelling over the music. You turned over to him, mouth cracked into a frown. “What?! You’re in love with Chan?! Seriously?!” He started bouncing and giggling, ignoring your hands coming to grab onto his forearms. He had predicted this exactly five months ago. 

“Shut up, Soonyoung, seriously!” You were yelling too, barely overcoming the booming voice of Kesha on the speakers. Bathed in pink light, letting your nails trail over the kitchen counter, you felt your heart becoming soft and trembling.

Your life was ruined. 

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” you cried, feeling Soonyoung spin you at your shoulders until he was right in front of you, alcohol dampening the air between you.

“What do you mean? You’re gonna confess to him. You guys are literally in love with each other” He said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if you hadn’t been best friends since freshman year; as if you didn’t know his favorite animal cracker shape and the exact model of his everyday sneakers. 

“I can’t do that.” 

“Yes, you can.” 

“I can?” 

“COMINGGG THROUGHHHHHHHH!” Frat-house dork Seokmin pushed between you and Soonyoung with a sky-high Vernon on his trail. Vernon shimmied apologetically, eyes sunken and red. “Getting cross-faded,” he supplied helpfully. 

“As you should,” Soonyoung mumbled, slightly peeved in his tone, but Seokmin and Vernon seemed too intensely high to notice his disdain. You were too floaty to be offended by their sudden intrusion. The party, the floor, the music, the stench of sweat had become distant and you felt very alone with your heart. And Kwon Soonyoung, of course.

“You can! Right now! I’ve been telling you for months!” He shook you by your shoulders, apparently sensing your distance. You looked up at him with furrowed brows, tugging at the strapless end of your short, glittery dress. “But he’s-” you inhaled sharply. “He’s not gonna love me back, Soon.” Soonyoung cut you off with a scoff. “He’s so in love with you! He looks at you like you’re the only girl in the…” 

Soonyoung trailed off, eyes peering past you into the crowd. “Oh shit,” His eyes widened, settled on you, then flicked back up. What the fuck was he looking at? “Uh, as I was-” you moved to look, struggling against his suddenly deadly grip on your shoulders “- no, don’t look!” He moved to stop you, but it was too late. You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes, finding yourself confused as to what he’d been crying about. That is until you saw him. Red bomber now discarded, Chan had removed himself from the couch and was currently grinding on your biochem-classmate, Irene. 

Oh. Okay. 

You felt like cold hands grabbed onto your throat from within, as it contracted and tears stung your eyes. There it went, your heart and all its pieces on the floor, and weighing you down like an anchor, was the knowledge that you’d spend the rest of your life picking them up. 

”God fucking damnit. This is awful, I’m awful,” your head was spinning, and you could barely make out how your fishnetted legs started moving, let alone how the tips of Soonyoung’s fingers brushed against your bare back to pull you back to him. You needed to get out. Out, out, out. 

You squeezed through the tight crowd, avoiding the gaze of your classmate Seungcheol, who tried to smile at you from where he stood. This had to be some sort of mistake. Some sort of illusion brought upon you by the rhythmic movements and the loose slip of alcohol. Maybe you were hormonal? You didn’t know, but you couldn’t think while some bass-boosted playlist built dams of pressure on the sides of your head.

You finally squeezed through the door, closing it behind you and locking away that cursed, wretched memory. The further you got, the fainter the image of him. By the time you were slipping out of the hallway and into the yard, you could almost convince yourself that it was a mistake. A foolish moment, that you would tuck away and keep in a locked chest. 

God, you were cold, shivering in your scrappy fabrics, as you slid down the brick wall by a flower bed, staring into the sky. It was the fourth of July, and your chest had exploded in fireworks while looking at your best friend. Every line had simultaneously been crossed and uncrossed. 

You had realized it just a few minutes ago, just standing in the kitchen, when Wonwoo from history had asked you for a lighter. It had just been a graze, but you’d still felt it, in the faraway reaches of your purse. Amongst crumbs, concealer, a couple unraveled cigarettes and wired earphones with only one working side. What was that? You’d handed Wonwoo the lighter and then dug around for it again. A little slip of paper, edges soft and worn. You pulled it up. 

It was just a drawing. A little scribbled dinosaur. God, you couldn’t even remember when he’d given it to you. But there you were smiling at it. And then looking at him. And then you knew. 

You started crying. Hot, fat tears dripped down your cheeks, and your lips were trembling, and suddenly your body was stuttering and convulsing against the wall, and you were in love with your best friend and he was obviously not in love with you. 

“Y/n?” 

You snapped your head towards the door and the person you wanted to see the least in that moment (that thought made you cry even more, because when had you ever wanted anyone but him by your side when you were upset?) was peeking his blonde haired head through the door. Chan had such a heavy frown, looking down at you from the wide opened doorway. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was immediately crouching down, hand burning hot on your back, stroking the muscles. Another hand on your knee and it was all too much, so you pushed him away. He backed off immediately, and you wished you missed the flash of hurt on his face. He looked at you with so much worry. “What happened?” 

He was sitting across from you on the pavement and you couldn’t bear to see him, lit geometrically by the moonlight and the explosions in the sky, brows creased. Averting your eyes, you fiddled with the edge of your dress and sniffled. What were you supposed to say? It was hard to say anything. You fought down the tears pressing at your eyes again, swallowing your emotions before you looked at him again, almost robotically.

“I’m fine,” you said, nodding, and only adding more when his face twisted in confusion. You were always honest with each other, he thought, why were you lying? “It’s stupid, I’m.. I’m on my period and my hormones are just.. Bleugh.” You found it in yourself to giggle.

Silence, only decorated with the constant stream of fireworks and distant laughter of drunk college kids. Chan studied you for a moment, legs crossed and arms slung over his knees. “Cheol said you looked upset.” 

“Yeah, I, uh, I was thinking of that sad dog movie.” 

Another pause. “Old Yeller.” 

The distance between you had never felt wider and you were certain Chan could feel it too. 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” You wished your laughter hadn’t been so heart-achingly bitter. He looked so confused. All he wanted to do was make you feel alright, why wouldn’t you let him?

A nod. “Yeah,” you breathed in deeply, tear-streaked makeup drying from the gentle wind. “I know.” 

The air had become so thick, you had to gulp down breaths. Chan cocked his head to the side and looked at you soulfully. You were staring at your knees, nervously playing with your fingers, and a flush had crept up your neck to the very tops of your shiny cheeks. He sighed. “I can get, uh,” he hesitated for a moment, “I can get Soonyoung down here. If you want.” You nodded before he was even done talking. Anything was better than sitting across from him - not now. This time you knew better than to look at his face, because you knew your entire facade would break down the moment you’d catch the frown on his face at those words. 

The moment Chan left, you sighed so deeply, relief and despair coming in a pair to crash over you like a wave. Soonyoung came not two minutes later and, ever the great comforter, immediately tried to make you laugh, sitting in the grass right in front of you.

“Oh my god,” he put on his best Jennifer Coolidge voice, “you look like the fourth of July!” _____________________________

Your first instinct was to hide - to turn over a stone and lay under it without breathing. Maybe then, if you separated yourself from him the feelings would simply dissipate, like perfume throughout the day. But you and Chan had a ridiculous amount of classes together, - something you used to enjoy and cherish - and every interaction had become half-awkward. 

What also didn’t help is that him and Irene did not seem to just be a party fling. You were walking the halls with him, backpack slung across your shoulder, and listening to him drone on and on about a date.

“I think it’s the blonde,” he explained, “I think she likes the blond.” He peeked his eyes over to you, as you walked and you nodded. “It looks good,” you smiled, heart crushing when his face lit up, that sharky smile playing on his lips. “Right? But I don’t know what to wear. I don’t think she liked my jacket. You know, at the party.” At the mention of the party, his giddy expression faded a little, eyes flicking back to look at you again.

You’d been different since then. A little quiet and every word a little strained, every breath a huff, every smile somewhat unable to reach your eyes. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. For the life of him, Chan couldn’t. You’d told him when you got a tampon stuck a couple months ago, you’d told him about your awful dates, about your most embarrassing moments in your life. Something had to be serious, he thought, watching the way your eyes had become darker and sunken, for you to shut him out completely.

“Y/n,” he said and his voice was abruptly so, so soft. His hand came to cradle your own, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyebrows cinched together when you looked at the way his thumb caressed your knuckles. “You are okay, right?” and all of a sudden he was so close to you, head bopping downwards to catch your eyes, a little breath becoming humid on your cheek. For just a split second, he saw how scared you were, an emotion that took up all the space in your head, widened eyes darting up to his. Then it was gone. You smiled a tight line, ripping your hand from his. “I’m good. I’d be better if we actually made it to class on time.” 

You were bouncing away and for a few moments he stood still, watching you. 

“Alright,” he whispered to himself.

_____________________________

 You and Chan met through Seungcheol. It was your first year and you were fresh-faced, young and a totally different person. It was your first biochem project and the teacher had paired you with Seungcheol - Seungcheol, who you just so happened to know was amongst the most popular guys at school. He was sweet though, if not a little slow, but he was excited to get into the project and had invited you to his place to study. You had graciously accepted, seeing as your roommate-situation at the time was less than ideal. 

You had just hunkered down with stacks of books and laptops open on his desk, when Seungcheol got a call; to this day you’re not sure about the specifics of it, and all the information you’d later been able to pry from Seungcheol was that “Jeonghan was in trouble”. Whatever the case, the man had taken the phone and immediately taken on a crease in his forehead and a small frown on his lips, before apologizing profusely and promising that he’d be back in 20 minutes or so. 

And there you were, wearing a dress and hairclips and sitting idly at his desk, while his roommate sat, just a few feet from you, on his bed with a controller and a headset on. That was the first time you saw Lee Chan. He had sharp eyes that you found intimidating at the time - especially with the focused grimace he wore, something you later found endearing. And, of course, you knew he was popular as well. How couldn’t he be, when his muscles were showing through his t-shirt, and he looked beautiful even in the domestic state you found him in. Maybe especially in that situation. 

“D’you wanna see me play?” he’d asked, eyes not even leaving the screen. “Um,” your voice was meek, “sure.” 

Seungcheol didn’t come home for another three hours. The sky turned from a bright blue into an orange hue outside the campus-curtains, and you sat cross-legged beside Chan on his bed, watching him play Overwatch. Had it been anyone else, you were sure this would’ve been the longest, most awkward three hours of your life. But for whatever reason, you and Chan just clicked. It was all laughter and smiles, and it felt like you had known each other forever. Fate had whisked the two of you together with a gentle push. That was two years ago. 

Chan defied all your expectations. Surely, a young man who was attractive and popular would be an asshole, you’d thought, but he was so sweet, something that was most apparent when he smiled and laughed, eyes becoming crescents and toothy grin becoming sharp at the upturned edges. 

Maybe you’d always liked him. You’d started reflecting on your relationship after that party, and came to realize that there’d always been a faint mist in your chest. A soft hum that drummed within your ribcage, when you saw him. It was warm, pleasant and constant when you felt his warmth at your side. 

And sure, your relationship had had its moments. You distinctly remembered sitting between his legs while watching a movie once, and how you’d been so uncertain if he was okay with the skinship. His face behind your ear, you heard the smile in his voice, as his hands ran along your arms: “It’s okay, N/n. I’m cool with this if you are.”

You found yourself thinking about that often, but now there was a distinct pain to the memory. It was especially painful, when the gap between you and Chan was widening with every day. He tried to reach out, tried to catch you in the halls, but you were always “busy”. 

Chan caught on to the fact that you were avoiding him when you started showing up late to classes, just so you wouldn’t have to walk with him; hear him talk about Irene, while that once soft drum had become a marching band in your chest. So you scrambled inside 5 minutes late, much to the dismay of your professors, and found a spot with some random classmate - far away from Chan. You’d have your eyes turned to the board, but you couldn’t focus, not really. Like a constant thorn in your side, you felt Chan’s sharp eyes across the room, boring into with such an intensity you thought you might catch on fire. Scribbling useless notes and focusing your energy - what little energy you had - on the class, you determinedly avoid his eyes. Had you seen them, never once darting astray from your form, you’d see the tenderness they held. “Why are you avoiding me?” His eyes said. 

And then: “Why are you avoiding me?” his mouth said, out of breath from chasing after you in your hurried exit. You turned to him, almost bleeding into the blue of the accented-wallpaper. His eyes softened at your wounded expression. You were gently ripping apart at the wish to see him and be around him, with simultaneous urge to ignore him and become free from his scrutinizing gaze. He would never not know that something was wrong.

He scanned the crowded hallway, and gently, almost as if testing the waters (which he hadn’t felt the need to do in years) placed a hand on your upper arm. “Come on.” 

You gave in. God, it was so easy to give in. You missed him. You missed him like a fish might miss water, had it been taken away from it. You missed him like a priest misses God, when his presence ebbs away and the sky is suddenly so very empty. So it was so easy to be led on, to sit down in the passenger of his car and just close your eyes and enjoy how it felt to be beside him. Chan scanned you as he drove, laying there with closed eyes, willing yourself to not look at him again, and realize you had to throw this all away. 

He said nothing that entire car ride. Maybe he sensed the desperate need you felt to just have this silence. You clung to it as if it were tangible, as if someone would take it away. He would, once you entered his apartment. Seungcheol was nowhere to be seen. You placed yourself on bed and played with the fraying edges of his IKEA duvet cover.

“I miss you.” he said. You sighed, pursing your lips and looking at your fingers. “I miss you too.” 

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, only a faceless presence in your peripheral. 

“I’m not avoiding y-...” you trailed off when he crouched down in front of you, your entire vision cursed (or blessed?) with his frustrated face. “You are,” he said, eyes boring into yours. You trembled. “I’m not, I’m just busy.” He backed away, sulking, and you tried not to make it obvious that you heaved in a shaky breath from the proximity.  “I can tell when you’re lying, you know?” 

You laid down on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as if you were a corpse. Was there a way out of this, you wondered. Every glance, every touch, and every word that dropped from his mouth poked and prodded at you sadistically. 

“I’m not lying.” 

You heard fumbling and raised your head to see Chan, having discarded his shirt, putting on a new one and you cringed at how your heart sped up, seeing his toned stomach, before it disappeared under a sweater. “What are you doing?” you asked. He sighed. He glanced at you before studying himself in the full-length mirror Seungcheol had stolen from Mingyu. 

“I’m going on a date with Irene in, like, twenty minutes.” 

A pause. You sat up.

“Oh.” 

He went on, throwing around scattered clothes and grappling for a cologne in his bag. “I’m sorry, I can’t cancel this, I don’t think she’ll really appreciate it,” he laughed a little. Throwing his head over his shoulder, his smile faded when he sensed your sorrow. His heart hurt then, so he moved, freshly spritzed with the cologne you bought him last Christmas, to stand in front of you on the bed. Your breath hitched when his hand found your cheek and he was suddenly dripping with sincerity and an emotion you really hoped wasn’t pity. “I just- I really wanted to talk to you, Y/n. I’m really worried about you.” You leaned into his hand pathetically, almost whimpering against it. You missed how his embrace felt. His thumb brushed over your cheek and he lingered there, eyes trained on you for just a moment - perhaps a moment too long - before he pulled away.

Suddenly he was putting on a jacket and ruffling his hair in the mirror again. “If you want you can stay here until I come back? It’ll only be, like, an hour and a half, two hours. Cheol will be home soon, he can keep you company.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” your eyes were huge, when you willed yourself to stare at the floor. Chan must’ve sensed the meekness in your voice, because he looked over at you through the mirror, a frown on his lips. “I promise we’ll talk, I just- I don’t wanna disappoint Irene.” 

It ached when you responded: “There’s nothing to talk about, Channie. I’m fine.” 

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours?” you only nodded half-heartedly. 

“Bye, N/n.” 

“Bye, Channie.” 

He left with a rustle of his keys, and when the door was closed, your body contracted, muscles pulling inwards until you were hugging your knees in his sheets. And you were crying because it smelled like him, and because he had held your cheek with such care, only to leave moments later for another woman. Everything you held dear, every moment you lingered on was just one-sided. Your tears were crystalline confinements for your most treasured memories with him and you were bleeding out on his bed, sliced in the heart.

It was Seungcheol who found you there like that, curling up in his roommate’s bed with painful sobs squeezing your whole body. You told him. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. “I love him,” you cried, and Seungcheol stroked your back, as he listened. “And he doesn’t love me back.” 

You apologized abashedly when you had calmed down, but Seungcheol only tutted and shook his head. “That’s what friends are for,” he’d said and patted your hair, and you giggled even though you felt all silly with your red face and your puffy eyes. The older man promised not to say anything, and you found yourself trusting him completely. You bid your goodbyes and felt a little lighter.

When Chan came home a heavy duvet of regret settled in his stomach. You were gone, only the faint mist of your perfume left behind in his room. When night fell, he slept on a bed stained with your tears. _____________________________

A week passed and you spent every moment alone in your dorm room, ignoring papers and deadlines in favor of lying completely still under the covers. Soonyoung came over with food every once in a while, and always left devastated at how completely disarranged you were. He felt powerless and if there was one thing Kwon Soonyoung didn’t like, it was feeling powerless.

That was how you found yourself in a very John Mulaney-like situation on a monday afternoon, sitting before Soonyoung and, surprisingly, Seungkwan, Soonyoung’s roommate, in a nearby café. 

“What is this?” you asked, arms crossed and leaned back in your seat, unimpressed. Soonyoung smiled sheepishly, sliding a paper across the table. It read “Intervention” in big, bubbly letters, colored with cheap highlighters. “An intervention?” you said incredulously. 

“Yes, we’re worried about you!”

“He’s worried about you. I’m skipping physics for this,” Seungkwan butted in.

“The community is worried about you,” Soonyoung gave a harsh glare to the younger boy, who was mirroring your distaste for the current situation. “So we’re hosting an intervention.” 

“This is bullshit,” you said. “Agreed,” came Seungkwan. 

“Alright, you two! Let Daddy explain,” Hoshi waved his arms in outrage and the two of you groaned at the word choice. “Y/n. I am sick and tired of watching you cry and cry and sit at home over a boy who is fricken’ in love with you!”

“Did you just say ‘fricken’?” 

“Unimportant. The point is get your act together and tell him or get over him!” Soonyoung was determined. While you felt his point of view was certainly unfair to you, your demeanor gave way a little. He was right, you knew. This was ruining you more than you’d care to admit. “You are worth so much more than this.” 

“As much as I hate to contribute to this, Soonyoung has been telling me all about.. Your situation, and I have to say I agree. I thought you and Chan were dating until Soonyoung told me this,” Seungkwan said, smiling sympathetically at you. You frowned. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, you know. He doesn’t see me like that.. It just fucking hurts.” 

“If he doesn’t see you like that, then fuck him--”

“Don’t say that, Soonyoung--” 

“You need to put your energy into a man who will know your worth!” Soonyoung sassed and Seungkwan snapped his fingers once for emphasis, face totally blank.

“I know you’re right, okay?” you reasoned, sighing. “It’s not as simple as that. I know you want to help, Soonyoung, but.. I just need time.” 

Soonyoung deflated, but he understood. I guess he was a little powerless in this situation. Even Seungkwan, who definitely was not thrilled about missing physics, smiled sorely. You watched them and hated yourself for bringing worry to everyone around. Like an oil spill in the ocean, your black mass infected everything around you. They’d done nothing and here you were, parading your sadness like My Chemical Romance in 2006. 

“Thank you anyway.”  _____________________________

Chan was theorizing. There were only so many things that could happen so suddenly, that could make you push him away like this. He hadn’t seen you in a week and he’d begun biting his nails again. Every waking moment had become consumed with this question: why? Why were you acting like this? Irene would pointedly comment on how quiet he was being, and his lies came like flowing water. 

Chan was certain that he’d never experienced anything harder than watching you unravel everyday. Every morning more disheveled than the last, every smile more dull. Let me help you, he’d think, watching you slump in your seat on the other side of the room, running an unsteady hand over your face. You’d even found a way to avoid him after class. Day after day he’d run after you when you sped out of class, and when he reached the hallway where students were pouring out, you’d be gone like a faint ghost. 

Irene ended things with him over a text. “I just don’t see us working out anymore,” it’d read and lying in his room he’d sighed quietly. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The text diverted his attention for only a minute, before he was staring at the ceiling again, thinking of you. It had to have something to do with him somehow. But no matter how much he scrutinized every interaction you’d had, he came up blank. 

“Are you okay?” It was Seungcheol, standing in the doorway and hanging his jacket on their clothing rack while eyeing him. He’d hardly heard him come in. Chan heaved a sigh, long lines of worry oozing out of him. 

“Y/n’s been acting really weird with me. I can’t figure out if it’s something I did,” Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I just want her to be okay.” 

Seungcheol frowned sympathetically. “Maybe you should just leave her alone.” Chan’s eyes sprung open and he grimaced, before ruffling the sheets where he sat up on the bed. Seungcheol was settling himself onto his bed, phone in hand and head against the headboard. “Why are you saying that?” 

For a moment, Seungcheol flashed his brown eyes with a hint of ‘oh shit’ in them, before they relaxed and he regained composure. “I don’t know, maybe she just needs some time away from you.” 

A pause swallowed the room. Chan studied his friend with furrowed brows. “Did she talk to you?” 

“Uh-” 

“You know why she’s acting like this!” Chan raised his voice, weeks of frustration crackling in the pit of his stomach. He stood up, so he could tower over Seungcheol’s bed. “Relax, man, I don’t know anything-” 

“You do! Tell me what’s going on, Seungcheol-” Only a few words had been shared, but they’d tugged at the right strings, and suddenly Chan’s muscles were tightened as they buried into Seungcheol’s collar. The older man scowled and wrapped his hands around his roommate’s wrists in warning. Chan’s hold untightened and unscrewed and he slumped in on himself like a piece of paper, “please, Seungcheol, please. I’m going crazy.” 

Seungcheol’s gaze softened. He pushed the boy’s hands away and sat up on the bed, voice a low, solemn grumble. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Fucking please, Seungcheol. What if something happened to her? At that party. I keep thinking about it, how I wasn’t with her, and what if some asshole harassed her or something. I googled it and Google said women can feel lost, lonely and embarrassed over stuff like that,” Chan started pacing. “And then I was thinking what if it was a friend of ours? And maybe that’s why she doesn’t want to tell me, but, of course, I’d support her in anything she told me.” 

Chan stilled in his wandering across the narrow floorspace. “Can you at least tell me she’s okay?” 

All sharp eyes and blonde hair and panted breaths Chan stood in the middle of the room and waited for Seungcheol to tell him that you were okay. Chan would’ve even been at peace with Seungcheol telling him that you never wanted to see him again, fuck, as long as you were fine and you still laughed and smiled, even if it was with Soonyoung and not him.

But the answer didn’t come. Seungcheol frowned and fiddled with his watch. “I don’t think so, man.” 

Whatever ties had held Chan back before snapped. He stood still for maybe three seconds in the unlit room, before his body burst into action and he was scrambling for his jacket and keys.

“Fuck this.” 

Sprinting down monotonous corridors, a hard-headed Chan let wisps of blonde hair flow behind as the air kissed his cheeks. He wore the crease in his brow that had become permanently etched onto his features. Chan had a one track mind; maybe that’s why things didn’t - wouldn’t - work out with Irene. Currently, the record spinning was you and he’d gone damn near insane, so this time he’d made up his mind. He was not leaving until you talked to him. Whisking past door after door in the quiet nighttime, catching Wonwoo exiting some random dorm and smiling sheepishly, he ignored him and braved forward. 

It was not until he was standing right in front of your door that he hesitated. The door framed his figure entirely, trapping him within its confines. What if Seungcheol was right? What if he was making things worse? 

But for Chan, he wasn’t sure that he could go any lower. Every day had become a new rock bottom, every day that you avoided him, every moment wondering what he could have possibly done. He missed your smile. So then he was knocking at your door.

“Fuck off, Soonyoung, I’m not going to anymore interventions!” you yelled, voice hoarse from beyond the door. Intervention? Had you developed a drug problem? He knocked again and heard you groan, before heavy footsteps thumped towards him. 

“What do you want, Soonyo-” you paused, door half-creaked open. Your eyes were two moons, and your nose and cheeks were red. “Chan,” you breathed, voice nasally from a stuffy nose. Chan said nothing, only pushed past you to get inside. You sniffled.

Your heart was a bomb, or maybe a firework. Chan had lit the fuse and standing before him, where he was half lit in the middle of your room, you knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded, chest blazing with a parade of colors for the fourth of July. Because it was him, a greek fucking god in your toy-decorated room, in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it was you, wimpish and thoroughly out of order, in pyjama shorts and a pink sweater. 

“Come. Here.” He wasn’t asking. You nodded and took two steps, and the moment you were within arms reach he enveloped you in his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, one wrapping around your waist and the other bunching up your hair to keep you pressed into him. Your cheek bunched up against his heart, you closed your eyes and heard how fast it was beating. He was scared. 

“Talk to me,” you could hear it, too, the fear. His voice was trembling and even though you couldn’t see his face you could imagine his brown eyes glazed over and lips in a pout. The thought squeezed at your heart. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut at the raspiness in your voice. “Don’t be, just talk to me. Please,” his voice was a wavering breath. He pulled away, head ducking down to peer into your eyes. Your cheeks burned and you looked away, becoming completely enamored with the white of his shirt, just for the sake of not seeing his eyes. Then both his hands were on your cheeks, a little harsh at first, but then softening. “Look at me.” 

He leaned closer, one hand straying from your cheek to hold you by the back of the head. “Look. At. Me.” he gritted his teeth and you felt the warmth of his face hitting yours. You did. You looked at him, saw him again, really, the guy you’d been avoiding and simultaneously praying closer to you standing before you like a kicked puppy. Suddenly you were crying. It felt like he’d turned you inside out. 

“No, no, no, don’t cry, pretty, talk to me, talk to Channie, okay?” he frowned before he was pushing your face closer, nosing your cheek and hair, just a big baby in front of you, with hot and humid breaths on your freshly wetted skin when his lips brushed over it. His hand on the back of your head was only urging you closer, and his back was hunched in a long arch just so he could be with you, as close to you as possible. 

And while his touch was bliss for a moment, the reality of it came crashing down, and your hands waved him off, taking a step back, which Chan followed with a step forward. He looked so hurt, hands held out for you to take but you shook your head.

“Don’t- Don’t do this to me, Chan. Not when-” you were shaking when you reached up to rub over your eyes. “Not when- Not when you have Irene to go back to.” 

“Irene?” He asked incredulously, almost in outrage, almost as if the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. It spurred you on. “That’s what this is about?” 

“No!” you cried, “Or- yes, I don’t know.” 

Chan was silent for a few moments when you began pacing, hands over your eyes. “You were jealous?” 

“No- That’s not the point!” your lip trembled when you removed your hands and looked at him again, his arms at his sides, now that he didn’t have you to hold.

“We were never going to stop being friends, you know-” his voice was quiet and yours overpowered his easily, when you screamed at him to say: “I didn’t want to be friends!” 

Boom goes the dynamite, indeed. Fireworks filled every crevice of your ribcage.

“Because I love you,” you paused only to flick your eyes over to his, and you sucked in the fear. Your voice shook when you continued: “And I think I have for- for, like, a year? And I only realized on the fourth of July and there you were with Irene, and I just… And I thought if I backed off these feelings would go away, because you obviously don’t-” 

“Irene broke up with me,” his voice was much quieter than yours. You wanted to scream and cry and yell, because what did that matter? Why did that matter when it changed nothing? But then he spoke again: “She broke up with me because I kept thinking about you.” 

Silence. It hit you that Chan was not informing you, he was telling himself this.

“Yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck and chuckled dryly, “I kept being quiet on our dates, ‘cause I was thinking about you. I guess she sensed it.” 

You were looking at each other in the dim lights. He was so beautiful, cheeks shiny and soft lashes curling over his lids. You sniffled. “Does that mean that you-” 

Yes.

Yes, it did, because before you could even finish your sentence he was taking a step forward and his hand was on your cheek again and this time his lips were on yours and fireworks, fireworks exploded in your chest and on your lips like bursts of static, but this time it wasn’t pained, it was beautiful, and you’re melting into his hold, just as he was yours. Lips moving in perfect unison, he tilted his head down and you tilted yours up, and grabbed his neck, and his other hand slid onto your waist, resting there, as the two of you rocked under the artificial light of your overhead lamp. 

Everything you yearned for was in your hands and you didn't dare to pull away, only whimpering when you ran out of breath, and chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe. He chuckled, mouth curved upwards in that beautiful smile that you love. You love it, and there’s no point in hiding it. He pressed his forehead against yours and you’re panting into each other’s mouths.

“I love you too,” he said. You grinned, a perfect blush spread across your rounded cheeks, and his heart soared so much that he had to kiss you again, pecking and mumbling it again and again against your lips: “I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

His tongue slid over your lip and you opened your mouth with a squeak. His tongue was wet and warm in your mouth and his hands were suddenly on your hips, pushing them into his. Then he pulled away, blushing himself when a string of spit connects you. “Is this okay?” he asked, so softly, so gently, and you nodded, flushed and out of breath and pathetically desperate.

“Yes,” you whined, “need you so bad.” He cooed when you pressed your hips into his, long fingers brushing hair out of your face. “Channie’s gonna take care of you. Channie’s gonna make it up to you,” and yet again it's almost like he was saying it to himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he lowered the two of you onto your bed. Hair strands stretched from their roots in your head, when you hit your plush pillow, and you were all shiny and sparkling eyes, laid out before him in a way that he never dared to imagine. “Too pretty,” he whispered, kissing you again. 

He was grinding into you, anchoring himself on your waist and whimpering into the corner of your mouth at the feeling of your warm center through your shorts. “Baby, need you so bad. Can I take this off?” he tugged at your shirt and you nodded, unable to get anything out but whines. He pulled off the pink fabric, marveling at your bare chest before him. Of course, he’d seen it before, in tight shirts, on days where you’d decided to forgo a bra, and he’d always cursed himself for imagining the real thing. “You’re so beautiful,” he cried, as he hit your core just right and he stared at your tits’ slight jiggle. 

“Such a pretty baby, so ready for me, can I touch them, please, please?” he was babbling, somehow already pussydrunk, but you were no better, eyebrows cinched together in pleasure, nodding without even an ounce of hesitation at his request. He groped at your chest, thumbs brushing over the hardened buds, before he ducked his head down to suck on one. You’re gasping, as his tongue flicked over you, hands tangling themselves in his hair, moaning his name into the air. He hummed loudly, and you felt a thick glob of wetness escape your pussy at just the sight of him, hunched over you like a wild animal, panting into your chest.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered and he let go of your tit with a small ‘pop’, lifting his head to look at you. He was grinning ear to ear, face still hovering over your chest. “Am I?” and suddenly he was so cocky, hand cupping your heat through your shorts, and watching as you buck into his hand with a strangled moan. “Needy girl, need pretty Channie to touch you, hm?” He teased, fingers gently rubbing over the fabric of your damp shorts.

“Please,” you whined, thrashing in the sheets, desperate enough to cry. He cooed and shushed you, hovering over you by one, strong arm: “Shh, sweetheart, shh, I know. I got you, I’ll make you feel good.” As much as Chan wanted to make you beg, he was desperate too, and he couldn’t help the slight guilt of what you’d been through. The thought almost made him frown, but he pushed it away and peeled off your shorts and underwear in one swoop. 

You cried out when his fingers were finally sliding through your folds. Your eyes, half closed, flicked up to see him, gaze trained on your core in amazement. “You’re so wet, baby,” he purred, spreading the warm slick up to your clit to start circling it with two fingers. “Just for you- Mngh!” 

He plunged two fingers into you with ease, wetness coating his fingers to let them slide in. You were panting and thrashing and moaning his name, and he just watched with the biggest hardon he’d ever had, how he made you feel good and how pretty you were, and how much he never wanted to pull his fingers out of your sopping wet heat. 

“Do you want my fingers in your mouth?” he asked, and you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded vigorously. “Hey, hey,” the fingers that weren’t plunging in and out of you and curling into your pussy’s sweet spot, squeezed your chin. Your eyelashes fluttered open, and you stared at him with blown out eyes. “You gotta look at me while you do it.” 

Then his fingers prodded at your lips, and you opened them with a whine, willing yourself to keep them open, to see how he smiled adoringly down at you. They were filling you just right, one hand stuck in your pussy and the in your mouth, teasing over your tongue. Your orgasm was approaching, knotting in your stomach, embarrassingly fast. 

He groaned at the sight of you, looking up at him with huge, adoring eyes while sucking his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, good girl, such a good, appreciative girl, taking my fingers wherever she can.” You clenched around him at that, and he chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, you like being my good girl? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.” 

You released his fingers only to moan - almost scream - his name, as you came around his fingers, curling into you and working you through your orgasm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum on Channie’s fingers. Look so pretty when you cum.” 

You were still dazed on your bed in the glimmering aftermath of your post-orgasm, when you heard Chan shuffling beside you, and then he was leaning over you once again, shirt and pants discarded and cock proud and stiff and leaking precum onto your stomach. You groaned at the sight, hand trailing over his exposed stomach, where abs dipped and rose, glistening softly. Then your thumb caressed and pressed against his slit and he hissed, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. 

He nosed at your neck, pecking a little, before speaking, voice too strained and too pretty: “Can I fuck you, baby? Please, please, I need to feel you around me so bad.” He had shut his eyes tight, fighting the urge to grab hold of your back and press your tits into his chest.

“Please,” you came back equally as whiny, writhing in his hold, where his thumb was rubbing soft circles in your hip bone. “Please, wan’ your cock. Need it.” He smiled into your neck, grabbing your head and kissing your cheek. “So cute.” 

You felt the head of his cock slide through your still impossibly wet folds, then pressing against your entrance. You were murmuring his name over and over and he was panting into your neck and licking a stripe of wet glistening saliva onto it, as he began to push in. 

You were writhing so much he had to place his hands on your hips to still you, whispering soft reassurances until he was pushed all the way, clit pushed into his abdomen. You’re so full, you can’t stop the wanton moans at the feeling of his pretty, red cock, every bulge and vein pressed against your gummy walls. “You’re so fucking tight,” he spat, fearful that he’d spill his load into you immediately from the way you were clenching him. Then, slowly, he was rocking into you and the both of you were clambering onto one another. Your hands found his neck, his hair, his flexing biceps, and his your hips, waist, boob, and then clambering up to hold your face and look into your eyes. 

“Look at me,” you almost didn’t catch the way he repeated those words from before, but you looked into his brown orbs, blonde hair curling over and tickling your forehead. “So fucking pretty, so cute, my little cumslut. Say you want my cum, baby, please, say it.” 

“Wan’ your cum!” you cried, as he angled his cock inside you to press into that spongy spot. He was giving in to all his wants at your words, pulling you up by pressing his arms under your back, so your tits pressed against his chest, and he was nosing at your face again, trailing kisses everywhere he could reach. “So good for me, so pretty, all mine. Fuck, sweetheart.” 

“All yours,” you babbled mindlessly, when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub circles into your clit. “Cum for me, cum for me, baby.” 

His thrusts were growing sloppy, and you felt the knot tightening in you once more, pulled tight and ready to snap. “Cum, cum, come on, my pretty darling. Fuck, Y/n, I love you!” 

At those words you came, pussy pulsating around his cock and clenching so tight, he was unsure if he could even pull out in time. He did though, pulling out just in time to see his seed spill all over your soft stomach. 

Panting and out of breath, his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of you, body covering yours. “Ugh,” you groaned and looked up at you, laughing softly. “Chan, you’re heavy,” you complained. “I’m a weighted blanket,” he countered, but climbed off of you anyway, lying down next to you. You looked at him, with the side profile of a god, and his blonde hair tousled and chest rising and falling.

“You are pretty,” you said, and you could almost cry when he looked at you and blushed. 

“You should’ve just told me,” he whispered, turning his head to gaze at you. You frowned and nodded. “But it doesn't matter now,” he reassured, one hand climbing from the sloping, bunched up duvet and running his hand through your hair. He tilted his gaze towards your cum covered stomach, some of it having smeared onto himself, and he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll get a towel."

Naked and divine, he disappeared into your small bathroom.

“Oh, God..” you groaned suddenly, face morphing into anguish.

“What?” Chan called from the bathroom.

“Soonyoung is going to be the most insufferable person on the planet when he finds out about this."

#lee chan x reader #chan x reader #lee chan smut #chan smut #dino smut #dino x reader #svt chan x reader #svt dino x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #svt angst #dino angst #chan angst #lee chan angst

[shuastruck]

SIMP NOTES

PAIRING || lee chan x female reader

GENRES || fluff, strangers to lovers, college au, humour, love triangle, angst

SUMMARY || lee chan, college's critically acclaimed and certified (read: self-proclaimed) cupid was a hundred percent sure that his guide to love manual aka the simp notes worked just perfectly fine, seeing the number of campus couples he had managed to get together. until you came up with your complex romantic problem and chan finds his trustworthy notes betraying him, especially when he begins to fall for you.

or, in which, chan never thought he would be following his own simp notes to win over you.

WARNINGS || mentioned in the chapters!

A/N || presenting to you guys...*drum roll* simp notes! this is inspired by a fic i was writing long ago under the same name (i'm sorry ni @wonumatics) but i did tweak around a lot to fit this to chan's personality. also thank you to all of you once again for all the love and support you give me it means a lot to me and special thanks to the people who asked to be in the taglist even before i released the masterlist im just so happy you all are enjoying my work that much!

START DATE || 07.10.2023

END DATE || -

TAGLIST || open!

CHAPTERS ||

one. profile 1 !!! jop till you drop

two. profile 2 !!! rent sharers

three. 01 !!! third time's the charm

four. 02 !!! dark, dark history

five. 03 !!! lee chan's simp notes

six. 04 !!! operation honeyboo: step 1

seven. (bonus) !!! buy one get one free

eight. 05 !!! single like a pringle

nine. 06 !!! homework 2.0

ten. 07 !!! operation honeyboo: step 1 (cont.)

eleven. 08 !!! blue lock haikyu!!

twelve. 09 !!! stream guilty

© 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

#simp notes. #seventeen x reader #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #chan x reader #seventeen smau #seventeen fake texts #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #dino fluff #dino angst #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #chan fluff #chan angst #seventeen x you #lee chan x you #chan x you #dino x you

[horangare]

some love

pairing : chan x reader

content : angst, smut (mdni), fluff/comfort

in which : you’re worried that your boyfriend isn’t really in love with you. he is determined to prove you wrong.

warnings : you feel unloveable but chan loves you sm, oral (f receiving), fingering, declarations of love, mentions of yeonjun (txt), you’re mentioned to be kind of inexperienced

wc : 2.1K words

It’s so late. Too late. You’re not even sure why you’re even bothering to stay up waiting for him.

But it’s not his fault, that’s what some desperate part of you is saying. He’s busy. He’s trying.

You wished you weren’t so selfish. You wished that you could believe yourself when you said and thought those things. You wished that your mind wasn’t your own worst enemy.

With a heavy heart, you retreated to the bedroom—your bedroom. It had been two and a half months now and Chan didn’t even sleep in the same bed with you. Was that normal for new couples? Or was it just more proof of this one sided infatuation you were labeling as your relationship with him?

Every day the distance between you only seemed to grow, and every night you would hold yourself in your own arms and pretend you didn’t care.

Chan was your first real boyfriend ever since your short time in high school with Choi Yeonjun. He was nice and there was no doubt he liked you back, you just couldn’t comprehend the fact that someone like him would want to be with someone like you. There was no way Yeonjun could ever really love you, just like there was no way Chan could.

The front door opened, quietly, Chan had a habit of trying to keep quiet when he came home late to avoid waking you. Most of the time, you were still wide awake, having grown tired of waiting for him. Not that he checked to ever actually see if you were actually asleep in there. Maybe it was better that he didn’t, you’d rather he not see you like that.

You wonder what possessed him to check tonight.

“Oh, you’re still awake?”

He spoke gently, quietly, and you could see the surprise etched into his features. How could he be surprised when he never bothered to see for himself?

You nodded, though your eyes were looking in a different direction. “Yeah. I’ve been up for a little while.”

“Were you waiting for me again?”

Chan saw through you like glass. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and it didn’t feel fair. You wanted to know how he felt with just a look, or a word, or a touch. It wasn’t fair.

“No, I was—”

“You don’t have to lie.” He shrugged, walking closer to the bed so he could be closer to you. “I told you that you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t.” Your tone was nothing short of defensive, and there was no doubt that he picked up on it. Which of your quirks or tells didn’t he pick up on?

He’s so stubborn. To think it’s that same stubbornness that brought you together in the first place is almost enough to make you laugh.

“So what were you doing, then?”

“Nothing, just…” Just what? Doubting every aspect of your relationship? Questioning yourself about whether he actually loved you or not? Digging yourself deeper into your own hole of self-pity?

“I was just thinking.”

Chan nodded slowly, allowing your words to sink in. There was an uncomfortable silence that enveloped the room for several minutes as neither of you spoke to each other. It’s not like it was anything you weren’t used to.

“Thinking about what?”

You’re not sure why that specific question struck a nerve, but it did. “Can we do this interrogation some other time, Chan? I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“So when will we talk about it?” He mumbled. “I hardly ever see you. We don’t even sleep in the same room. If we don’t talk now, when will we?”

“I don’t know, Chan!” You finally turned your head in his direction. “Does it matter? Nothing is going to change if we talk. We’ll still sleep in different beds not seeing each other and pretending like this relationship is real. What is talking going to do?”

He hears the pain in your voice before he sees it on your face. How it cracks and shakes just a little, all your suffering starting to bubble to the surface. He wishes you would’ve told him something sooner, because now it seems you’re only so many words away from your breaking point.

You move away when he comes closer, and the distance between you seems wider than ever. For once you wish he would back down, let go of his stubbornness, and not be so forgiving.

“Communication is important for relationships, [Y/n].” He’s even closer now, so close that you can’t move away even if you tried. “I just want to understand you better.”

Chan waits for you to speak. He could wait forever if that’s what it takes. However long it would take to get you to tell him something, anything, he would wait.

“I just want you to…to love me, Chan.” The second half of your sentence was whispered, too shameful to be spoken in a voice any louder than that. Chan’s face was laced with confusion.

“You think that I don’t love you, [Y/n]?”

It felt like a trick question. No matter what answer you gave, the answer would do nothing to make you feel any better about the situation. Regret was working its way into your mind, and you cursed yourself for even saying anything in the first place.

“Do you not?” You turned away again. “Love me, I mean?” You doubted he needed the extra clarification, but the last thing you wanted now was an answer that wasn’t direct.

“I have no reason to feel otherwise.” He brought his hands to your face, cupping them and slowly turning your head until you were facing him again.

Yes he does, you thought. There were plenty of reasons for him to not feel any affection for you. Maybe he just wanted to spare your feelings. You weren’t sure why. You chose not to answer him.

His next words were sudden, desperate. “I can prove it. If…that’s what you want.”

You try to look away again, but now you can’t. He won’t let you. You don’t know why you felt so nervous at his proposal. You did want him to prove it, you wanted it more than you’ve wanted anything. Perhaps it was the unknown possibilities hidden beneath such a simple string of words.

He was desperate. So were you.

“Okay,” you decided to say. “prove it.”

Chan has only kissed you once before—on the cheek, and only for a moment. This kiss felt similar to that. Sweet, gentle, like he was testing the waters. The last thing he wanted to do now was scare you off, not when he had finally made so much progress. You clench your hands into fists at your sides, not quite sure what to do or where to put them. “Are you okay?” He mumbled against your lips.

“I—I don’t know.” You pulled away from him and immediately missed the feeling of his lips against yours. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Chan hummed in understanding, gently caressing your face in an attempt to soothe you. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

He was being honest. You wanted to believe that he was telling you the truth, and you wanted to believe him. He was going to take care of you, and he was going to prove that he loved you.

“You can relax, it’s just me,” he whispered against your skin. You mumbled a weak apology and tried to get yourself to loosen up while your boyfriend kissed a path down your body; from your lips to your jaw to your neck, getting lower and lower…

You felt warm, and it only made you tense up again. “Chan…”

“I know, it’s okay.”

His thumbs traced circles on your inner thighs, and you felt a little bit dizzy. The act was so soothing, so intimate.

So loving.

You feel too embarrassed to keep watching him when he pushes apart your thighs. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been to you in a long time. You can’t believe it’s taken this long just to have him be with you like this.

“Is it okay if I take these off?” He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Other than a shirt that is a size too big for you, the cloth material sticking to the area between your legs is the only other piece of clothing you have on. You figure it was a smart decision.

“Yeah.”

He treats you so carefully, sliding the fabric down your legs and puts it aside. You’ve always expected that he’d be the type to ravage you, to fuck you senseless and leave you crying and begging him for more.

It’s not like that at all. Not even close. Instead; your sweet boyfriend is lying between your legs and looking at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. This version of him seems more fitting. You like it.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so perfect.”

You were going to argue against it. There was no such thing as the perfect person, and even if there was it wouldn’t be you. Chan thought otherwise. To him, you were perfection personified, and he wanted you to realize it for yourself. Whatever you were going to say came out as a whine instead of proper words.

Your inner thighs are soon littered with hickeys, there’s hardly any skin left untouched by his lips. The anticipation is eating you alive���having him only inches away from where you need him the most and yet he’s choosing to keep you in suspense like this. When you start to squirm, Chan shakes his head and pinches your thigh. It’s not hard enough to hurt too badly, it’s just enough to warn you to keep still, and you do.

Thankfully he doesn’t wait any longer. Whatever space was left between him and your dripping core is now gone when he starts to lick long, warm stripes up your slit.

“Oh, Chan, fuck…” Your breath is shaky, and so are your hands—which you’ve finally managed to tear away from your sides and give them a new home in Chan’s hair. He hummed, and the vibration traveled right through you in the most pleasurable way possible.

He ate you out as if he were dying and you were his cure. It’s almost like he’s the one who needed this and not the other way around. His thirst for you is unquenchable, and if you’d let him, he’d spend an eternity buried between your thighs. His nose bumps against your clit over and over again, and the stimulation is heightened when he circles one of his fingers at your hole before guiding it inside you.

You try to speak again but all that comes out is a loud whine of Chan’s name. He pumps his finger in and out of you before adding another and repeating the motions.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your skin. “Always will, okay? I. Love. You.” With every word he curls his fingers to reach that spot deep inside of you that he knows will have you falling apart in no time.

“I—shit—I love you too, Chan. M-More than anything.” Now your whole body is shaking and you can practically taste how close you are. Chan never lets up, not even for a moment. He seems to give up on being gentle and opts for something more effective so he can get you to cum—sucking on your clit and speeding up the pace of his fingers. When it finally happens, it’s with a cry of his name and a light, blissful feeling that makes you smile dazedly.

Chan’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices, you can see his face shine in the dim light from the lamp on your beside table. He’s about to kiss you, so eager to taste you again, that he almost forgets to whip his mouth. When he raises his head, he gasps.

“You’re crying,” he says softly. You shake your head at him, the faint traces of a smile still on your lips. You are crying, but they’re not sad tears. Not this time.

You hold his face in your hands, and it’s still a little sticky. “I’m happy.”

“You are?”

“Yeah…I am.” You nodded, and he did too. “Thank you, Chan. I love you.”

Chan kissed you again. A kiss like before. A loving kiss.

“I love you too.”

#lee chan #lee chan angst #lee chan x reader #lee chan smut #svt chan #seventeen chan #svt lee chan #seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt smut

[bookyeom]

pairing: dino x reader word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, alcohol, kissing and the barest of suggestive content (it’s hardly there, but it’s insinuated) 

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

false alarm by matoma, becky hill

i heard sirens in my head  from the first time that we met thought it was a false alarm  yeah, we started as a spark didn’t think we’d come this far but here we are

now I’m burning in your arms  endless fire in my heart  no, it’s not a false alarm

A/N: Happy Birthday to our Makdoongie!!

*****

Everything is currently a bit of a blur, but a pleasant one. 

You’re sufficiently buzzed, the thumping of the bass vibrating through you as you wait in line at the bar. You sway contentedly to the beat as you manage to slide onto an empty barstool, waiting as the song changes to see what the new vibe is. You’ve just opened your mouth to order from the frenzied bartender when you register the first few beats of Bruno Mars’ Finesse, and you squeal. You stand up abruptly, nearly falling off the barstool as you do so, and whirl around to face the crowd.

You push yourself up onto your tippy toes, eyes scanning the room frantically. You’re on a mission now. Everyone and everything is a blur in the dim light of the club, fading into the background until you find exactly who you’re looking for. He’s already looking back at you, both hands in the air as he points in your direction. He’s too far, and the music is so loud that you can’t hear him, but you know he’s shouting your name. 

You push through the crowd towards him, one half-finished drink order and a confused bartender forgotten behind you, your own hands raised in the air as you whoop and holler. You’re practically vibrating with excitement as he weaves through the huddle to meet you halfway, and when you meet in the middle, you’re absolutely euphoric. 

You both immediately drop it down. 

You’re not a bad dancer, and Chan is far from it. You’re sure that the two of you are being stared at as you take over the floor, fake twerking and throwing your hands in the air. The movements are absolutely ridiculous but you’re hitting the beat, feeling the music — honestly, you’re absolutely killing it. All you can see, all you care about, is Lee Chan next to you with his head thrown back, laughing and having the time of his life. You can just barely hear his laugh over the pounding of the bass, but you know the sound of it by heart, anyway. You’re beaming, inhibitions thrown to the wind as you find your rhythm with him right there beside you. 

You never feel as happy as when you’re with him. 

This is something that you’ve come to acknowledge as truth. It’s also something you don’t allow yourself to dwell on — because the implications of what it means is terrifying.

The song has just reached Cardi’s rap part when you catch Chan mouthing something, and your eyebrows raise in question. He tries again, and you shake your head. I can’t hear you, you try and mouth back, gesturing, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ in understanding. Then he’s leaning down, lips by the shell of your ear. 

“This song is the best,” he yells, a hand finding your hip to keep you steady as you’re jostled by the ever-moving crowd, and you nod, turning your head to reply. 

“It’s our song!” You yell back, and he pulls away just enough to grin down at you, nodding furtively in agreement. His hand is warm where it’s still settled on your waist. 

You think time stills for a second when your eyes meet. His gaze is unwavering as he beams, and you can’t help but feel like the only other person in the room when he looks at you like this. 

Shit, he’s beautiful. 

It’s not the first time the thought has hit you without warning. You’d blame it on the alcohol if it wasn’t something you catch yourself thinking almost every single day now — that he’s beautiful, your friend Chan. That he’s beautiful and warm, and all things good, and that he’s one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

He still hasn’t let go of you when the song changes, but the moment between you ends so quickly that you wonder if it even happened at all. You hear the opening notes of J.Lo’s On The Floor and Chan cheers again, his hand slipping from your waist to find your fingers. He moves to twirl you and you oblige, letting him spin you out and back in. You belatedly realize what a poor decision you’ve made when you end up with your back flush against his chest, bodies pressed tight together. His arm is snug across your chest, holding you to him as he sings the lyrics into your ear, swaying you dramatically to the opening lines. You think it can’t get any worse — and then the beat drops. 

You are wholly unprepared for the way Chan begins to move against you. Both of his hands drop to settle on your waist as he begins to move his hips back and forth to the music, and your breath catches as your eyes flutter shut. 

Shit.

There’s a reason you never dance seriously with Chan, and it’s because you know the damage he can cause. You’ve seen him dance, seen him do it all from hip hop to contemporary, and you just knew that his body could move against yours in ways that would make you blush. 

You were right.  

Don’t panic. Don’t make it weird.

You’re grateful for the drinks you’ve downed because with the liquid courage, you somehow manage to swallow your nerves and allow your friend to guide your body along with his as he dances. Your head falls back against his shoulder and your fingers reach up, searching for his hair, his neck, anything that will help anchor you to him. He responds by pulling you even closer, his breath warm in the space between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him everywhere, can feel his body pressed against yours, can feel your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. But you don’t hesitate, don’t let yourself think, don’t question anything. You just let yourself feel it all.

Until he abruptly comes to a halt, the song not even halfway through, and brings you to a stop with him. 

It feels like you’re moving in slow motion as he turns you to face him. Gone is silly, giggly Chan, and in his place stands serious, pensive Chan, staring down at you like he’s trying to figure something out. He’s so close, your hand falling to rest on his chest as the two of you remain frozen in the middle of the dance floor. You have absolutely no idea what to think, or say, or do, as his eyes wander across your face in the haze of the flashing lights. You’re not sure how long it takes but he decides what to do for you both, taking your hand and pulling you towards the exit. You hold on for dear life, not daring to let him go. 

As soon as you step into the cool of the night air, Chan turns around, backing you up gently against the wall of the building. You’re sure you’ve been floating for the last ten minutes. You can’t see or hear or think about anything or anyone but him, and how gorgeous he looks in front of you, hair messy from dancing, cheeks flushed. His hands find your face, his forehead falling to rest against yours, and it’s all you can do to just breathe. He’s so close, and all you can think about is how you want him even closer. You swear you can hear his heartbeat — or is it yours? You’re not sure. You’re in a daze, because of the alcohol and because of him, and you’re desperate for him to do something. Anything.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low. “Do you want to—”

“Yes,” you cut him off almost immediately. He inhales a sharp breath at your hasty response, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments, and you wait. Then he’s taking your hand again, pulling you to the curb, and hailing a cab. 

You don’t let go of each other’s hand the entire way back to his apartment.

You’ve been in Chan’s apartment many times. This shouldn’t be new.

But it is, because his hand is in yours as he pulls you through the threshold, and then his hand is finding the middle of your back to pull you in, and then he’s backing you up against his front door.

You don’t think you’ve ever held your breath this long. You feel fuzzy, untethered, a little bit insane as he looks at you. You don’t think he’s breathing, either. His free hand finds your face, and his thumb is brushing your jaw, and you wish you knew what was the right thing to do.

You know what you want to do, you just don’t know if you should.

“Y/N?” 

When he says your name, you let out a breath. “Yeah?”

His eyes search yours, and you can tell he’s struggling, too. “Do you… Um, do you want to shower?” 

You almost laugh, because that was not what you were expecting him to say, but you suppose he’s right. This was probably a terrible, awful, horrible, no-good bad idea. That doesn’t stop your heart from sinking, though.

You nod and he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. You try to clear your thoughts, try to calm your racing heart as you follow him to the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything else, just hands you a clean towel from the cupboard with a soft smile. You thank him quietly, and the door is almost shut behind you when he says your name.

“Y/N?”

You turn, embarrassingly quickly. “Yeah?”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a moment. Then he tugs on the towel in your hands, pulling you closer and nearly causing you to stumble. His forefinger and thumb catch your chin, holding you steady as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

You don’t remember much of your shower after that. You’re in a daze, hot water streaming down your face, when you hear a soft knock and you jump a little.

“Yeah?”

Chan's voice sounds softly through the door. “I just put some clean clothes on the floor outside, okay?”

When you get out, you take your time drying off, trying desperately to wrap your head around what’s happening. You pull on the t-shirt and shorts he’d left you, taking a deep breath before heading out and into his room. You don’t miss the way Chan’s eyes widen as you enter the room, the way his eyes give you a onceover, or the way his fingers brush yours as he passes you on the way to get a shower of his own.

The air is tense when he re-enters. You’ve already crawled under his sheets — which, again, should be nothing new. What’s new is the way he hesitates, his eyes meeting yours as he towel dries his hair. 

“You can get in with me,” you say softly after a moment of quiet, and he nods. He seems to hesitate for a moment anyway, hand lifting to run through his damp hair. Then he’s climbing in next to you, and you can feel your heartbeat roaring in your ears as his warmth joins you under the covers. 

Are you allowed to touch him? Are you allowed to want to? 

You decide that there’s no going back now. He’d kissed you first — it’s your turn. 

You inhale a breath, and then you’re rolling onto your side to face him. He looks at you in surprise, and it gives you some sense of relief to find that he looks just as nervous as you feel. Before you can lose your nerve, you close the space between you, your head finding his bicep as you curl up into his side. You can feel it as he lets out a breath before he relaxes next to you, his arm sliding under your shoulders, and you goosebumps erupt across your skin. You move to wrap an arm around his waist. You can hear Chan let out a quiet laugh when you do, and you look up at him with a smile. He raises his eyebrows, almost as though you’ve challenged him to something, and then he’s pulling you in and turning his body into yours so that he can tangle your legs together.

Alright, you think as you roll your eyes at him fondly, you win this time, Lee Chan.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Your head is clearing itself of alcohol more and more as the moments pass, and everywhere he’s touching you has your head spinning for an entirely different reason now. His hand has found the space where his shirt has ridden up on your waist, just above your shorts, and he’s begun to trace gentle circles against your hip.

“Chan?”

You break the silence. He hums from his place beside you, fingers stilling.

“Yeah?” His voice is just above a whisper, hushed in this sacred space between you. Like he doesn’t want to break whatever bubble you’re currently trapped in. You don’t blame him. 

“I’m not imagining what’s happening here, right?” You finally say, and you can feel his body tense up. Your voice is quiet — you’re just as terrified as he is.

After a moment, Chan moves his arm from under you and props himself up on his elbow so he can look down at you. His other hand finds your thigh, and he squeezes gently as he responds. “No. You’re not.” 

You pause, biting down on your bottom lip, and Chan’s gaze follows the movement. Then you admit, as soft as ever, “I’m not really drunk anymore.”

“Neither am I.”

There it is. 

For a moment, all you can hear is the background hum of Chan’s air conditioner and the beating of your heart in your own ears.

“So…”

“I’m pretty sober now, and I know exactly what’s happening,” he says, trailing off before adding quietly, “and I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay with it, actually.”

Oh.

“Me too,” you murmur, and then he’s smiling, his gaze on you so soft and warm that you almost want to look away for fear of melting under the affection of it. You don’t.

“Long time coming,” he says, and if your heart wasn’t skipping beats yet, it is now. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “Way too long.”

He smiles, head falling back to the pillow. It’s quiet for a moment as you just look at one another. 

“Please let me kiss you again,” he says after a pause, voice even softer than before, and you feel your entire body alight with electricity.

“Absolutely, yes.”

The wide smile you’re rewarded with is worth its weight in gold. The hand on your hip slips around to the middle of your back and he pulls you in, your arms wrapping around his neck as he finally, finally presses his mouth to yours. Once, twice, three times; he kisses you, deep and warm and slow, and you can feel it all the way down to your toes. 

You can’t help but chase his mouth as he pulls away, which feels embarrassing until you’re rewarded with the sound of a soft, breathy laugh full of pure joy from his lips. His nose brushes against yours, foreheads pressed together as you both catch your breath. 

“Why’d you stop?”

The laugh you receive this time is loud. It’s one of your favourite laughs; it’s the one that comes out when he can’t hold back just how happy he is. 

He doesn’t waste any more time. His lips meet yours, and you find yourself on your back again as he kisses you breathless. You find yourself taking mental notes and pictures of it all, just in case. You want to remember how he kisses just like you always imagined he would, soft and slow; how his hands are gentle in their wandering, just like you always knew they would be; how his mouth moves languidly against yours as his hand finds the side of your jaw. Tender, and as warm as the sun.

You don’t know what this means for the two of you, but you don’t think you ever want to forget how it feels.

When you break apart again, you can’t place exactly how you’re feeling. You feel shy, and nervous, and excited, and a million other things all at once. His eyes lazily wander across your face, thumb brushing your jaw.

Minutes pass. He doesn’t look away, so you don’t, either. 

You both know that there’s so much more that needs to be said, but you’re terrified to let anything ruin whatever is going on right now, so you don’t say any of it. Neither does he. Instead, you let yourself relish the feeling of his thumb against your cheek, let him look at you, let him lean down and kiss you one more time. His fingers are warm against your skin where they’ve slipped under your — his — shirt, and you hum against his mouth as he squeezes your waist gently.

“I think kissing is all I want right now,” you whisper, and he nods, brushing his nose against yours. 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, leaning down to find your mouth once, twice more, before he’s rolling off of you. He turns away from you, and you panic for a moment, fingers reaching for him a little desperately, because space is not what you wanted. That’s not what you wanted at all.

“Please don’t go too far,” you say, and you would regret the desperation in your voice if you weren’t rewarded with the softest look from him in return.

“I’m just turning off the light so we can try and get some sleep,” he explains gently, fingers finding yours and squeezing. He doesn’t let go, even as he reaches for the lamp with his free hand, pulling you back and into his side as soon as the room goes dark.

You want to stay like this, to stay awake, to kiss him some more. But when there’s no more light and you’re wrapped in his warmth again, you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut.

It’s you that wakes up first. 

You know where you are as soon as your eyes open. You’re in Chan’s room, which is nothing new. What is new this morning is the way he’s got his arm draped over your waist, and his face is right next to yours on the pillow. And also that you kissed last night. A lot.

You panic a little when it all comes back to you, but your overthinking is overpowered by your need to pee. You manage to get out from under him with minimal damage. You try not to freak out as you wash your face, your brain reeling with what all of this might mean. You don’t regret it, of course you don’t, but does he?

You fight against everything in you that wants to run, to leave his apartment and pretend nothing happened. Because it’s Chan, and he’s a good friend, and you owe him that much, even if you’re a coward.

You’re grateful that you don’t have to wait for him long, because the longer you sit there, the more you want to throw up. You hear when he stirs in the other room, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment in order to steady yourself. You wait with bated breath on one of the stools in his kitchen like a robot, rigid and tense, until you finally hear him enter. 

“Hey,” he says softly, and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“Hi,” you reply, voice just as quiet, and you meet his eyes. He smiles tentatively, a hand lifting to run through his hair. He looks so heartbreakingly beautiful like this, you think, when it’s early in the morning and he’s on his way over to you, eyes a soft brown in the sunlight that streams through the kitchen window.

”Did you sleep okay?” 

You think he knows you were staring when he speaks and it takes you a second to react. You blush, abruptly turning your head away from him. 

“Yeah, I slept well.” 

“Hey,” he says, and you can practically hear him trying not to smile. “You can’t hide from me after you kissed me like that last night.”

“Chan!” You’re absolutely scandalized as he uses the bottom of the stool to turn you back towards him. Your hands lift to cover your face, and he laughs. You wince as his laughs subside, but you don’t fight him as he gently pulls your hands away.

“Hi,” he says again, and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for teasing you.” The smile fades from his mouth as his expression turns serious. “We should talk about it.”

You nod, even though you’re so nervous you don’t know if you can talk at all. 

“Do you…” He trails off as he lets go of your hands. He leans against the counter next to you, and you wait for him to continue. “I mean, would you want to do that again?” You furrow your brows, and his eyes widen. He’s quick to speak again, stumbling over his words. “God, I meant… Did you enjoy it? Kissing me and everything? Do you, um, do you want to do this?” 

His eyes squeeze shut as he finishes his sentence, and you can’t believe how flushed he’s gotten. 

“Do you?” Is all you can manage.

Chan’s eyes open again, and he blurts out, “I asked you first.” 

That’s fair.

“Well,” you say softly, “my head’s definitely a lot clearer now.” You watch as Chan deflates a little.

“Oh.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as you clock the look of disappointment on his face. “Wait, no! I meant that — what I wanted to say is that even though I’m sober now, I still want to kiss you. Of course I wanted to kiss you last night, too. I wasn’t that drunk —” It’s your turn to flush crimson red now, and you force yourself to take a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that of course I want this, Chan. I have wanted to be with you for so long, and I —“

Your surprised gasp is muffled as he pulls you into him, squeezing you so tight around the waist that you think he might break you. He buries his face in your neck and murmurs, “You should have said that first, oh my god. I have liked you for so long it’s embarrassing, so you need to stop talking before I literally explode.”

It takes a second for everything to process. Then he’s pulled back to look at you again, your legs moving to let him stand between them, and he presses his forehead to yours. Your hand lifts to his face, and you’re flooded with affection when he leans into the warmth of it.

“So,” he says softly.

“So,” you repeat.

He gazes at you, warm, and you bite your lip.

“Us?” You finally ask, and Chan nods with a smile.

“Us.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fourth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Channie’s birthday. I know I just posted the Woozi fic yesterday, but it’s Chan’s birthday. What can I do?

Also, this fic in particular is very important to me, so I would love to hear your thoughts!

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

#Dino fluff #dino angst #dino x reader #dino x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #chan x reader #lee chan x reader #lee chan imagine #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #Seventeen imagine #my writing #thirteenvalentines #lcfic

[twogyuu]

memories of the quiet room

Pairing: Lee Chan x fem!reader

Synopsis: In which you foolishly give the former campus fuck boy, Lee Chan, a chance. 

Genre: Angst, mildly suggestive at one point, (misunderstood) former fuckboy!lee chan, office!au, colleagues/enemies-to-???

warnings: alcohol, profanity, suggestive

WC: ~2k

A/N: This was actually a spin-off of Love Me Out Loud that I never finished and in a sense, a "prequel" to this elevator 'what are we exactly?' drabble request (same couple that is).

Enjoy - I was in my Lee Chan feels 💀

. . . .

The heavy bass of the Y2K R&B pop song bounces off the wooden walls of the bar, covered in a unique combination of old movie posters and framed images of celebrities from your youth: Britney Spears, Mariah Carey, Usher, and the Black Eyed Peas. Elbow leaning against the bar, you bopped your head to the beat, eyes skimming over the upstairs floor. The Hennessy and Coke combo starts to settle into your veins, your limbs loosen and your body sways ever so slightly. Leslie and Dahyun had wandered off to greet a friend, promising you that they’d return and leaving you alone at the bar. 

It’s not that you were a loner and didn’t know people at this bar – it is one of the hottest spots in the city for young adults. You simply chose not to acknowledge them, such as your colleague Lee Chan and his goofy friends, Seokmin and Seungkwan, dancing in the corner of your eye. Seungkwan has his nose stuck on his phone, fingers furiously tapping away, crafting some seemingly lengthy message. The other two who let their limbs flow, their feet bouncing on beat. Every now and then, Chan would catch your eye, flashing a playful grin in your direction. You’d only shake your head and turn your attention to the other side of the room, pretending there is something more interesting to watch. 

In truth, you were actually interested in his friend, Lee Seokmin. He didn’t work with you guys, but you’ve seen him in Chan’s Instagram stories every now and then. On top of being gorgeous, his shaggy dark locks now overgrown and skimming over his warm crescent eyes, he had a bright and playful air about him that intrigued you. The disappointing thing is that he’s rather oblivious. Those looks were meant for him, not Chan. 

There’s a familiar presence that nears you and before you could register who it is, you find your hand encased in Chan’s as he gently tugs you towards the dance floor. His feet moves silly and his hips sway back and forth like an old man jamming to old school trot music. You can’t help but giggle a little at his dorky dance. 

“Dance with me?” he asks, reaching for your other hand.  

Despite your attitude, scoffing and rolling your eyes, you let him take it and pull you towards the middle. It’s fortunate the night is still young and the dance floor isn’t too crowded yet.  

Chan shoots you a look of plea as he straightens his posture. He’s still bouncing on his heels nonetheless, moving your loose arms and you let him. 

“C’mon,” he begs, a hint of desperation in his tone. 

You wonder if it’s the alcohol or you truly didn’t care tonight – it’s just dancing, what could go wrong?

Rather than answering him over the loud music as the song switches, the beat faster and more genial, you step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling your chest flush against Chan. He startles at the sudden change of act and bold move, but is quick to adjust, snaking his arms around your bare waist. A tingle shoots up your spine as his warm fingers press into your cool skin. You try your best to convince yourself that you’re not affected by the close proximity, but the way your heart is fluttering is undeniable. Holding you, he spins the both of you, adjusting his moves to match the tempo and you rush to keep up. A shrill escapes your lips as you clutch to hold on tight onto his shoulder. Your bodies fall in sync, allowing yourself to sway back and forth with him. 

Chan is full of surprises, however, suddenly pulling away and motioning for you to spin. You let him twirl you, tumbling into his chest after. Leaning in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, he shouts for you to spin him. A giggling mess you were, you comply and clumsily lift your linked hands for him to rush under. 

This isn’t too bad, you think to yourself. It’s actually kind of fun?

Nothing serious, just for the memories and laughs!

Getting lost in the ecstasy of the moment, you peer up at Chan. Your breath hitches, the smile you didn’t know you were harboring quickly falters when you see the expression painted across his face. His eyes are glistening, the club lights bouncing off his dark orbs like stars dotting the galaxy. He looks at you with such adoration and yearning, his shit-eating, flirtatious grin now replaced with a timid half-smile. It’s that look the male lead in a teenage rom-com has when he finally gets the girl at the end. It’s how Patrick Dempsey looks at Cindy when she shares his poems with him for the first time. It’s how Nicholas looks at Mia in the crown room when he professes his love for the future queen. It’s how Matt looks at Jenna before he kisses her when they jump off the swing set. 

The corner of Chan’s mouth twitches up and he leans in once more. His hand moves up your back pressing you close to him and asks calmly yet confidently, “Can I kiss you?”

Unlike times where you’re furious with him at the office, you’re not sure what’s different in this moment that makes you do what’s next to come. Perhaps it is the alcohol; maybe it was the recent breakup with Juyeon that has you reckless; or you’re in your ‘me’ era and you just want to have fun. It’s your turn now, smirking and clasping your hands behind the nape of his neck, your fingers brushing against the fringes of his dark locks. Chan is close enough, where all you need to do is tip your chin forward and your lips meet. Noses bumping, Chan tilts his head to better adjust to you and your lips lock. It burns, sending a warmth down your throat and fueling the fire threatening to explode in your chest. Your hands come around to cup his jaw, pressing him closer to you while his explores the expanse of your waist. Like he can't get enough of you, he bends forward even more, threatening to fold you backwards. He licks the seal of your lips, quietly asking for access and you let him in, nearly molding perfectly to slot against one another. Lungs aflame, you part every now and then to come up for air. Chan is breathless, each sigh hot and fanning against your lips. You could only imagine you’re probably the same. 

The rest of the night passes by in ignorant bliss. You end up spending it with Chan – you’re inseparable. Hands linked, he leads you through the club, be it dancing or resting by the bar. More than that one kiss is shared, some equally passionate, some fleeting yet still equally sweet. 

By the time Leslie and Dahyun finally find you and drag you home, it’s already late. The farewell is too fast, neither of you barely getting a word in, partially because Dahyun is eager to get you to hang out with the girls and Seokmin is drunk as fuck, grasping and pulling at Chan. 

“I’ll text you later tonight – get home safe.” 

Those are Chan’s last words that he leaves you with after planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

. . . .

Chan doesn’t text you.

He doesn’t text you on Saturday, he doesn’t text you on Sunday. 

He certainly doesn’t text you on Monday when you have to return to work. 

As his radio silence ensues, your guilt and shame grows. You felt used and played. Indeed, to some extent you also used Chan for your own leisure, but for some reason, you feel all the worse. You didn’t do anything if you really think about it, but you still feel terrible. He probably doesn’t feel this way, having been the campus fuck boy four years ago – he’s used to this, girls throwing themselves at him. You, on the other hand, have never done this before. You were a commitment girl in the hookup era!

Let alone, your mother warned you about boys like Lee Chan: charming, playful, and bold, but they were walking red flags who were going to break your heart and weren’t there to stay. She knew and you didn’t listen. 

But, were you expecting Chan to stay? 

That’s a foolish thought: You weren’t special! Neither of you belonged to one another – you weren’t in a relationship. You are just another girl to be added to his long list of past flings and one-night stands. 

Preoccupied with these thoughts, you’re barely present at work mentally. Mindlessly, you organize your folders and only open documents to stare at the cursor blinking on a blank white page. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends.

“Did Chan kiss you silly that night or something?” Leslie teases at lunch. She munches on her carrot and gestures to your figure. “Earth to Y/N? You’re so out of it today.”

You look up, blinking at her owlishly. 

Dahyun bumps your shoulder. “Real talk: what’s going on between the two of you? I thought you hated each other,” and to deliver the final blow, Dahyun also adds in a hushed voice, “Plus, it’s Lee Chan – I’ve never seen him that whipped for anyone. He bounces from girl to girl at the club faster than the Easter bunny hides his damn eggs.”

This only makes you feel smaller. You shrink back, amidst their laughter at Dahyun’s joke. When your silence ensues, they quiet unsteadily, knowing something is truly wrong. 

“Hey,” Leslie starts slowly. She shrugs, “What’s up?”

You open your mouth and then close it again, unsure what to say. 

“Don’t tell me,” Dahyun says hesitantly, “You have feel–”

“Hey!”

You look up from your untouched lunch to find Chan grinning happily and standing at the edge of your lunch table. His hair is slicked back; the matching suit jacket of his outfit probably left back in his cubicle because he’s only in his white button up with the sleeves rolled up, his hands stuffed in the gray suit pants. 

Chan frowns at your blank expression, sensing that something isn’t right. “You alright?”

You falter for a moment before forcing a strained smile. “Y-yeah,” you stammer. 

Chan’s eyes flicker to your friends then back to you. He contemplates for a moment, but proceeds, “I wanted to talk to you about something,” he flashes you one of his boyish smiles, “Catch you after work? Coffee?”

Oh. 

Oh.

This is never good. “Wanting to talk” usually only meant one thing: he didn’t want to see you again – at least, not like that. He’s going to tell you Friday night was a one-off thing; nothing was serious, so he wants to stop everything there. 

You know this conversation – you’ve seen Leslie and Dahyun cry about them one too many times, and now you’re going to be one of those idiot girls. 

But why? Why are you so hurt and worked up over this? Did you not want it to be a one-off thing? Did you want Lee Chan to like you? Did you like Lee Chan? Did you want Lee Chan?

Your head is spinning with questions and you fear you might pass out right there. There’s only one thing to do now and what you know what to do best: beat Chan to it. 

Standing abruptly, you look Chan in the eye and announce robotically, “I don’t think that’s a good idea – like Friday night.” You ignore the look of surprise and hurt flashing across his face. “Let’s just . . . stop here.”

You don’t bother to grab your lunch, stepping out from in front of him, you speed towards the stairs, knowing the elevators of this cursed office building takes too damn long, if he chased after you, he’d catch you. 

What the heck– why are you expecting him to chase after you?

(But will he?). 

You don’t leave room to find out, pushing through the exit and running down the stairs towards the exit. You don’t even realize tears are too streaming down your hot cheeks.

This is what you get for trying to have fun – bright idea to do it with notorious once campus fuck boy. 

#lee chan x reader #lee chan angst #lee chan smut #lee chan scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen smut

[secondcupforyou]

if you leave me? (what can i do)

disclaimer, this is purely for entertainment purposes and does not reflect who seventeen are as people.

pairing! dino (lee chan) x gender neutral! reader

tags! historical royalty au, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, non-linear narrative, probably incorrect royal terminology

warnings! light swearing, near death injury (the cause of the injury is offscreen and not gone into detail, but it is still there), panic attack/mental breakdown

summary! the two of you grew up together—well, as together as two people from different kingdoms could—so it was almost expected that the two of you fell in love. what was not expected was for the person you learned to love almost getting killed before you could even think of confessing your feelings.

word count! 3.9k

author’s note! happy (kinda belated) birthday dino!! i’m glad i was able to finish this in time. now, this is the first time i’ve done this, so please let me know if anything is off!! also thank you to @horangboosadan for helping me with kingdom names and getting my thoughts down (and waiting so long, lmao).

If someone were to ask you what regrets you held, you would counter it by asking how they wanted them listed: alphabetically or chronologically. Maybe they would even get it listed by severity if the day was that kind of day. Luckily for them, it was that kind of day.

“I, for one, do not understand why we cannot storm the damned country, slaughter that bastard of a king, and have our military come home,” you said as you jumped onto the bed.

Turning away from the dresser after putting the supplies back into place, Minghao began to speak: “First of all, I beg of you to not mess up your hair, that took more time than necessary. Second of all, do you want me to explain the quite substantial list of reasons why or do you only have the need to talk my ear off?”

With a look of mock annoyance spreading across your face, you took a pause before speaking again: “Please let me fill any meaningful silence with my complaints. Ahem, we have the resources to end the war, so I cannot understand why father will not use said resources to bring our military home. I would also like to bring up—”

“If this is about your somewhat endearing, somewhat frustrating infatuation with Sir Chan, I would rather you talk about it explicitly compared to attempting to avoid it,” Minghao cut you off as he sat on the corner of the bed. “If this somehow is not about your romantic dilemmas, you could talk to King Jeonghan about your qualms with the war. Though before you do, you should understand that the war is almost over and the Alliance is doing all it can to ensure the safety of all parties besides that devil of a king from Soles and his allies.”

You huffed as you sat back up on the bed. “Just because you have the ability to read me well does not mean you should use said power to make fun of me. Furthermore, I recognise how close we are to ending the war and the work the Alliance have done, but I would just like to complain.”

“To begin with, I never said you did not realise it, but rather that your father would question you at first. Next, I grew up alongside you. I would think I understand you quite well.”

“Oh Lord, stop making fun of me.”

A loud knock comes from the door, interrupting the conversation. Dusting off their legs, Minghao stood up from the bed to answer the door. He slowly opened the door, welcoming the new figure. It was a guard. Soonyoung, if you remembered correctly. He first turned towards Minghao, bowing, before turning towards you.

“I have received news that Sir Lee Chan from the Kingdom of Pledis has been severely injured and is being relocated back to the capital of Pledis.”

“What?!”

Even after growing up in a castle, there will always be something intimidating about tall ceilings and long marble staircases. Most people would think one might find it normal, but there is nothing normal about gold leaf decor scattering the ceilings, especially when the people who own the decor are from one of the most powerful countries in the continent. However, there was something a little bit comforting this one time.

You didn’t know what made you feel relaxed, but, if you were to guess, it would be that you were no longer the only kid wandering between adults who talked about pleasantries while pretending they were not trying to acquire every possible flaw of the other. And, of course, while you had been to high class functions with kids your age before, they had never been these more political ones your father dragged you to. Well, Vernon, your brother, would often accompany you, but recently he had been sick.

Before you could spiral about your impending loneliness, a voice called out from the front of the carriage: “We are about to arrive, your Highness, so I would ensure all the final details are ready before we properly approach the Castle of Pledis.”

With that, your father thanked the voice—it seemed to be Joshua, his personal assistant—before turning to properly face you, eyes hinting at wanting to say something. However, there was nothing to be said that was not already known, so you took this as a sign to assure your father that you were prepared.

Soon, the carriage slowed down. As that happened, you looked out the window to see a group of figures at the entrance of the castle. After the carriage stilled completely, the door to the carriage opened, encouraging them to leave.

Once you exited the carriage, it became apparent just how intimidating the castle was with its tall, stone walls, but that may be because of the new environment. Slowly, you followed behind your father, beginning to zone out, while approaching the stairway leading towards the large wooden door. You had done this all before, so it was easy to not pay attention. However, once a new voice started speaking, it was hard not to.

“It is a pleasure to greet the two of you as I welcome you into our lovely kingdom. Once again, my name is Choi Seungceol, and these three are my children: Jihoon, Seokmin, and Chan.” Seungcheol turned toward them and lowered his voice, “Go ahead, introduce yourself to Y/N while King Jeonghan and I begin our conversation about the recent developments in both of our countries.”

With a quick look at each other, the three stepped forward. The two older looking ones seemed to push the youngest forward, opting to hide behind him with a grin. Whether or not it was out of shyness or mischievousness, you could not tell, but it did not stop the boy from sighing before properly making eye contact with you with a seemingly genuine smile.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, L/N Y/N,” the boy said with a bow. “My name is Lee Chan, and I am third in line for the throne for the Kingdom of Pledis.”

“I want to tell you to relax, but I do not believe that will change much,” Minghao sighed as he followed you down the hall leading towards the throne room.

”And you would be correct. I refuse to sit idly as a person I care about is almost certainly in a state of extreme pain.” You took a deep breath before turning around to face Minghao, “Now, I will be speaking to my father, and I will be visiting Pledis by sunset tomorrow.”

Turning back around, you rushed to the tall, golden doors that opened to the throne room where your father was waiting. With a little pause, you opened the doors before rushing into the room. The few people in the room shifted their attention to the intrusion, not expecting to be interrupted. As the conversation halted, you made eye contact with the king.

“Y/N?” your father questioned. “Is everything all right?”

“Father, I have been informed that Chan had been injured in the war. I wish to ask you if I could travel to Pledis to see him.”

King Jeonghan let out a small laugh, “Sweetheart, even if I were to try to prevent you from leaving, I know you would find a way.”

“I cannot fully say you are incorrect…”

”Exactly,” the king smiled, “now the group of us here were just discussing what to do.”

“Ah! If I may, Your Majesty?” someone spoke as they glanced back towards the king, waiting for a nod of approval before continuing. ”Let me first introduce myself. My name is Boo Seungkwan, and I am a messenger from Pledis. We have plans to depart as soon as we finish our conversation here. If it is approved by Your Majesty and yourself, we would be honoured to take you to visit our prince.”

“Well then, what do you say, Y/N?” your father said, prompting you to respond. “If you truly wish to visit Prince Chan, then you have my approval. All I ask is that you at least bring Sir Wonwoo and Sir Mingyu with you as this is a last minute trip.”

“I understand. Thank you, father. Thank you, Sir Boo. I will now go back to my room and prepare for my departure.” After speaking, You turned back towards the doors you used to barge in where Minghao was waiting.

“You crazy bastard,” Minghao sighed as he followed you back to your room. “Only someone stupid in love would run to another country on short notice.”

“I will let you know that I heard you.”

”Have you considered that I wanted you to?”

Big events are a special time of organised chaos as a royal. There is an almost unnecessary list of things that need to be attended to just for the night to be perfect. It even breaks down to the personal level of “what outfit one can wear” because the image a royal needs to carry is a complex one. Thankfully, the stress of planning your debutante ball had come to a close a week ago, and now you only need to worry about looking your best.

”Thank the heavens that everything was figured out,” Minghao huffed as he watched you get your make-up done.

You smiled, “Well, who is to say nothing will go wrong during the ball?”

“It is your debut you are cursing, not mine.”

The two laughed as the final touches were put on your outfit. You had around thirty minutes left before you were expected to appear at the ball. However, that time came quickly as Wonwoo and Mingyu, your personal guards, came to escort you. Though your father soon took over after arriving at the entrance to the ballroom.

“I believe in you,” your father whispered before opening the doors to officially introduce you to the guests. It was then when you were guided down the stairs for your first dance before you were paraded around for people to try to kiss up to the royal family.

And that was most of the night: walking around, introducing yourself to others, being congratulated on your debut, and given strained compliments. It was mindless yet tiring. Though, before you could take a small break, a familiar face approached her.

“You look beautiful and congratulations on turning seventeen,” Chan smiled as he reached out his hand. “Now, may I have this dance?”

While taking his hand and dipping into a small bow, you responded with a small ‘yes,’ letting yourself be led onto the dance floor. As the two of you continued to dance, you realised that this was the most peaceful you felt this night.

Even though you had travelled to and from the Kingdom of Pledis countless times before, it always felt a little bit different. Sometimes snow would be covering the road, and other times there would be birds above, migrating across the continent. This time it was filled with a unique stress you had never felt before. Then again, you had never experienced someone you loved almost being killed in battle.

Soon the trees turned into homes, and you could not tell if getting closer to the castle had helped calm your anxiety. There was comfort in being able to see Chan soon, but that caused more fear to creep in as you didn’t know what to expect. However, the castle came into view before they could worry much about these thoughts.

Once the carriage slowed to a stop, each action was almost autopilot. You allowed for the doors to be opened before stepping out and rushing to the castle’s entrance. This quickness garnered small glances from some of the workers outside, not used to foreign royalty rushing towards the castle. Though just as you were about to enter the castle, you heard a voice call from behind.

“Y/N?” Seokmin questioned, bafflement all over his face. “What are you doing here?”

From the looks of it, he seemed to have arrived back home after attending some commitment of his. That was when you finally realised the almost complete ridiculousness of travelling to another country within two days of receiving news of Chan’s injury. Hell, the only reason you even arrived so soon was due to both kingdoms being on the smaller side and neighbours.

Not dwelling on it any longer, you got to the reason why you even came to the country: “Where is that idiot brother of yours? I need to get a word in with him.”

“Which one?” Seokmin laughed. At the deadpan stare he got, Seokmin properly answered your question, “Chan should be resting in his room.”

With a small nod, you began to head to Chan’s room as they no longer needed an escort after visiting so often. Before you were able to leave, Seokmin called out once more: ”Before you go, I beg of you not to kill him. I am afraid we need him.”

”I will not make promises I cannot keep, but I will try my best not to.”

The stress of sitting around a table never seemed to leave you even after years of handling politics with others twice your age. Maybe it was because you were younger that made the situation stressful, or maybe it was the topics being discussed themselves. This time it was definitely the topic itself.

“Soles has been up in flames since the turn of the season,” a military strategist from a country you could not remember as of now spoke. “It is imperative that we create a plan to follow by the fortnight.”

“While I stand in agreement with responding soon, who will even act as the leaders of this military pursuit? There needs to be multiple leaders working together, each from a separate country here today,” the voice speaking began to blend in to the world around, and you lost track of who was speaking. You could tell more was being said, but nothing made sense to you at that moment.

Then Chan raised his voice, it was the only one you could keep track of: “I will volunteer for Pledis.”

At that, small murmurs spread across the table, clearly not expecting him to step forward, so he continued to clarify: “I volunteer to lead the army of Pledis to help take down the bastard king of Soles. My father and brothers are unable to take on any direct role with this war, so it only makes sense for it to be me.”

As soon as you fully processed Chan’s words, you slammed your hands on the table, gathering others’ attention, “Chan, what in God’s name do you mean you are volunteering yourself to lead your army? We need you here.”

“It is exactly that. While my father and brothers deal with affairs within Pledis, I will be leading my army to help support the rebels of Soles. My family and I have already discussed what will be the best course of action for us to follow, and this was what we agreed upon.”

Your hands clenched as you took in Chan’s words. You then looked across the table to make eye contact with some of the other leaders at the table: “I apologise for my outburst. Now, if you could excuse me for a small while.”

At that, You left the room with a small bow. You could hear small murmurs inside, the only voice you could make out still being Chan’s, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything being said. Shaking it off, you moved forward, trying to find another room before you collapsed in the hallway.

After opening the tall doors, you tried to find a place for you to sit. However, before you could situate herself, you heard another person enter the room.

Turning around, you made contact with Chan as he began to speak, “Y/N? Is everything alright? Well, obviously not, but still…”

It was through those words that allowed for all the overwhelming feelings to take over. All the stress from the pressure to make the right decision to ensure the safety of both your country and the people you cared about, finally hit you, and tears fell before you could stop it.

“Why would you even need to leave?” your broken sobs came, trying to find anything to rationalise your thoughts at the moment. “Hell, you are a prince for heaven’s sake.”

Chan sighed, trying to find the best way to comfort you, “It is because I am a prince that I need to serve my country. Part of my duty as a future leader is to fight for my people and country; therefore, part of my duty is to fight in this war.”

You were only able to choke out a small “I know” before falling into a complete tearful mess and collapsing to the ground. As he watched you cry, Chan slowly moved to embrace you and wipe the tears falling from you eyes. He sat on his knees, waiting for you to feel even just a little bit better.

“Let me ask you one thing,” your voice finally said after several more minutes of sobbing. You could feel your throat closing and your eyes stinging, but it was the least of your concerns as of this moment.

“Anything. I will listen to anything you have to say.”

“I ask you to not get yourself killed.”

“You have my word,” Chan whispered as he kissed the back of your hand.

That was the last you heard from him after the war officially began.

“Chan,” you almost yelled as you slammed open the door. The man looked up from his book, but nothing he could want to say made it out in time before you were able to continue scolding him. “You better have a damned good reason for giving me an excessive amount of heart attacks. What in the actual hell even happened to cause you to be transported home? Because I know without fault that the only way you would be here at this moment is by you being forced for your own well being.”

As he didn’t fully register who was speaking to him at first, he was tense, but after realising it was you, he began to relax. A small smile fell upon his lips before he opened his mouth, trying to welcome you.

“Prince Lee Chan of the Kingdom of Pledis, this is not the time to be smiling,” you interrupted him as you closed the door.

“Y/N,” Chan whined as he watched you bring a chair to the side of his bed. “You have no reason to even be here.”

“You almost getting killed in battle is a perfectly fine reason to be here. I care for you, Chan. Let me worry for you as well.” You brought your hand to Chan’s forehead, brushing loose hair out of the way.

Chan leaned into the touch with a small smile before responding, “If I were to speak the complete truth, my memory of the situation is blurry as I lost consciousness soon after Soles’ army ambushed us. It seems they attacked me first as a way to cause havoc. Thankfully, my men were able to respond accordingly and the enemies were dealt with.” Chan bit his lip in anxiousness before continuing, “Since this may not be satisfactory enough for you, Sir Junhui was with me throughout the attack, and he filled out the official report. I would visit him if you have any more questions about the situation.”

“Understood, I may… I may do that later. However,” you hesitated, not knowing how to best express what you were thinking. “However, please let me ask you one more thing: are you okay?”

“This is the best I have allowed myself to feel since I was off at war.”

“Oh, thank the heavens.”

With a hesitant look flashing across his face, Chan continued to speak, “Though, I do have one last thing to say. If I may?”

You let out a light huff, “It better be something delightful.”

“Now, I should preface this—“ Chan said with a click of his tongue before being cut off.

“What other trouble did you get yourself into, goddamn it.”

“Please, let me finish.”

“Right. I apologise.”

“I preface this by saying I do not expect anything from you. This is only something I feel you deserve to know. I would also prefer it if you could let me finish before you respond.”

After he got a small noise of confirmation, Chan let his eyes drift until he focused on his lap. As he let out a small chuckle, he spoke, “To put it simply, I have fallen in love with you. In fact, I fell in love with you years before now, and these feelings have only grown since.

“You have always been a constant in my life, even when you are a country away. While this could be because we have grown up together, I find it hard to believe for that to be the case as you are the only person I feel this was towards. You are incredibly special to me. From the way you will make the smallest adjustment of your life to help a stranger to the way you will act so loving towards those you care deeply for. All of this, and more, has made me fall in love with you over the years we have known each other.

“I know there is a strong chance that you will never return these feelings to me, but I cannot let the chance where they are reciprocated vanish as I refuse to live with regrets. However, I beg of you to never feel as if you are in the wrong for not feeling the same.”

“Have you finished?” you asked with a small smile as you heard Chan pause.

“Yes.”

“I am in love with you too.”

Not expecting to hear those words, Chan quickly raised his head to look at you. “What?”

“I will say it once more: I am in love with you too. Maybe even since the first time we met one another. Every day I find something new to adore about your being, and I wish to find more. So, yes, I have fallen deeply in love with you as well.”

Without care for his injuries, Chan sat up and embraced you with as much strength as he could give, which was not as much as one would think a trained fighter could foster. Slowly, he pulls back and adjusts the two of them before asking a question: “May I kiss you?”

You smiled before giving a quick nod. “Yes, you may.”

After those words reached his ears, Chan leaned in as he put his hand on your cheek. Your lips met for a smile filled kiss, causing all worries to disappear. You two let a few moments pass as you took in each others’ warmth before separating.

With one final embrace, you worked towards moving Chan into a position that would no longer put strain on his injuries. As he was adjusted back on the bed, Chan let a bright smile reach his eyes while he joked: “They had been right about not waiting to confess until after the war. I would hold so much regret if I was never able to tell you about the love I hold for you.”

“You are the biggest fool I ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“If I was such a displeasure then I find it hard to believe you would even be here at this moment.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

mirajane’s rambles! ahhhh i’m so happy i finished this! i finally sat my ass down and wrote lmao. though i wrote a lot of this while sick, so please tell me if anything doesn’t make sense. and happy birthday dino! i actually was gifted an otter plush two days ago, which was funny timing

any likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated <33

#secondcupforyou 🤍 #svt #dino #lee chan #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #dino x reader #dino x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #lee chan x reader #seventeen angst #dino angst #lee chan angst #live laugh love dino from seventeen

[renzieluvsvt]

imperfect love

pairing: ex!chan x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

word count: 2k (got longer than i wanted-)

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend because of misunderstandings, he shows up at your apartment after midnight leading to the night you had been missing.

warnings: parental issues, nipple sucking, spitting (on the palm tho), nicknames (like baby, babygirl, sweetheart etc), sex talk [if missed out anything then please lemme know !!]

a/n: tysm anon for this request !! i really really enjoyed writing this as i have always been into such plots👀

no proofread +if you really wanna enjoy the smut then good for yall ive made a distinguishable divider for the smut so hope y'all enjoy !! love yall<333

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it had been nine months since your breakup yet you couldn't be used to the empty house after he moved out. as you were lost in your thoughts wondering what went wrong and made him quit, you were interrupted by a knock at the door that startled you. you looked up at the clock which read 02:36 am, you didn't have track of the time after you were reminiscing the good old days with your, well now, ex-lover. there was another, yet more desperate knock on the door but this time you heard your name being called out too. you ran to the door and opened it to just be welcomed by your ex-boyfriend, lee chan.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

the two of you had known each other since the middle school then started dating in the first year after he asked you out saying that he had been liking you for a year. things went pretty well. the both of you got into the same college which made the both of you to decide to share an apartment that would help you both in many ways from rent to spending more time with each other. it was like a dream to have a person like him as your boyfriend, so loving, so caring&funny and so hot especially in bed.

the both of you would study together after the classes and fuck each other at night. it went on for about the first two years of uni. the both of you were living the best life but thats what you thought. in the third year, you started changing. probably due to the stress of studies because of how tough it was getting. chan was born as a sports genius. he was into sports, never attended much of the classes and barely studied. but luckily he used to pass the examinations, not with the best marks but good enough to not make him fail. but here you were being studious to reach the dreams that you had for yourself. acing every exam was your goal.

as studies got harder, the late night fucking sessions with your roomie boyfriend turned into late night study sessions. the romantic dates were getting lesser month by month and thats when the both of you had an argument about how he got less attention and how he wasnt understanding the importance of exams to you. thats when you broke up with him and his ego packing his bag to leave the apartment you had found for the two of you.

the both of you finished the third year your uni. it was now the final year and you had been busy preparing for it. studying after break up was hard and paying attention to his sports was hard for him too. but you let things go with flow to the direction where you guys wont be together, ever by never approaching him and never letting him approach you until now.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

as you opened the door, he smiled after seeing your face after such a long time. "y/-", he called you name again under his breath before you cut him off.

"why are you here?" his smile disappeared after listening to the tone of yours. "why are you really here cha-"

"i missed you y/n, please get back to me y/n", he said with a crack in his voice. but you didn't care about it. you scoffed at his words before you said, "why? is it because you want to get back into the apartment?"

chan was confused with the words that you were shooting at him directly, too harshly. he frowned back at you with confusion as his eyes were welled up wity tears as he couldn't understand what made you turn into such a person.

"why are you really here chan? why are you creating such a n-nuisance at such an unholy hour?", you said with not much feelings but bitterness that was there in your heart. he kept on staring at you with tears, patiently listening to the shot you were blabbering until you pressed his button. you scoffed again and continued your sentence, "or is it because you just want sex from me?"

that was when it was enough for chan. he pushed you into your apartment, making you yelp. he locked the door as you continued to look at his back.

"y/n? what the fuck is wrong with you? are you even aware of what you are saying? did you even think before you spoke those wor-", he yelled at you while tears running down his face. before you cut him off again. "YESS CHAN YESS", you stunned him.

"listen, give me this one last chance to clarify what i really meant that night", he begged with tears still running down his face. you wiped off the tears that were rolling down on your face. "sure then, try changing my mind", you said with a firm tone to act strong but from the inside, you were hoping it had a good reason for you to stop resenting him to make you feel like an object that he used just for his pleasure.

he sat down on one of the couches in the living room while you stayed there standing. he started off by telling how he had been facing parental issues after his parents decided to part their ways, making them fight over chan even more. after a month of his father winning the custody over him, he became a drunkard and neglected his duty as the father. to the point where he refused to pay for his uni fees and his soccer training fees, making him look for part time.

you were stunned listening to this part of his life. you couldn't believe how much he had been going through.

when you asked him why he never told you about this, he simply said that he didn't want to bother you as you were pressured about the exams already. you cried to his words as it made sense.

you realised how occupied you were to fulfil your dreams and greed to ace every exam that you completely neglected your boyfriend. the worse, you misunderstood the man who had been worrying and caring about you. the resentment for chan vanished but was replaced by the hatred for yourself.

out of guilt and regret, you stand there crying vocally. chan stood and tried to calm you down as you kept on apologising to him, voice muffled by the hands that were covering your face. "im so sorry c-chan, im soo sorry chan", you kept on repeating even after he hugged you tight, your head on his chest.

"its okay y/n, i shouldn't have acted in that way that ni-" "no chan", you cut him off. this time you hugged him while on your toes to reach his height. "chan, im sorry for not paying attention to you. sorry for being too drawn in myself that i could never be that girlfriend you deserve", you said as you held him tight as if trying to make up for the time you both were apart, missing each other's confort and warmth.

"but listen", you said as you parted from the hug. you hesitated before saying that you had on you mind. "what is it dear?", he said in his sweet voice while cupping your face to make you look up at him. but you still had your eyes looking at the ground. "um channie", you continued. "hmm im here sweetheart", you hated the timing he was using these nicknames, making you really rethink what you were about to say. but you did.

"channie, i would understand if you want to still part your ways from me. i have been bad. never paid attention to you, even made you move out of our shared apartment at night and surely alot more. i will under-", before you could continue he stopped you with a kiss.

his broad hands cupping your face, deepening the kiss while his eyes are shut. soon you give in too, give into the passionate kiss that said alot even without the usage of words. you could still understand the love that existed between the two of you even after the things that happened.

he broke the kiss to look into your eyes, "y/n, i have loved you and will keep loving you. i cant even imagine myself without you. please dont even talk about something like this, okay?", he said with a smile. soon, his eyes kept on looking between your eyes and yours lips. this time you kissed him, desperately. you had been missing him, especially after the break up.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

he understood your body language and led you to your bedroom without breaking the kiss. he laid you down and within a second, all of your clothings were thrown around in the room while his body was over yours. kissing you, deep and hard while your hands ran through his hair deepening the kiss even more. the two of you couldn't get enough of each other. he soon broke the kiss to just have his lips latch over your neck, kissing it down. "mine, mine, mine", he said while marking your neck, while playing with your tits, while sucking on to it.

he kept on repeating until he went dangerously low, reaching your wet cunt. "mine", he said again but with a smirk this time as he locked his eyes with you. lord, you swore you could have come there itself. but you were in for a longer night.

he got onto his knees to bury his face into your pussy, drawing a gasp from you. you could feel him smile. he soon gave it a lick then started sucking onto your clit. "fuc- lord", you moaned as you arched your back in pleasure. he looked up at yoir figure that was enjoying what he was doing. he spread your legs wider and suck harder and soon started teasing your hole.

you fucking hated how you were so transparent about how good he made you feel. "baby let it out, tell me how you feel", he said. "fuck you chan, you are so good", you said. with a smirk he started off with his sinful acts to draw the most sinful sounds at an unholy hour.

you squeezed your tits and grabbed his hair as he ate you out, soon letting you come all over his face. you were a panting mess but you could feel two of long and slender fingers enter you with no mercy. "aah- om- fuck chan", you moaned, loud enough for y'all to have the neighbours here and complain but did you care about it? nope. who would and who could when your partner was making you live in heaven right now.

"you like that baby? did you miss my fingers fucking you like this?", he said with a dominating voice while scissoring out your tight pussy that hadn't been fucked by his thick cock since you dont know when. all you could reply with was a whimpering. "words babygirl", he said while slapping your pussy hard. "mm- yes i missed you so much chan! i missed getting fucked by you chan, ah-" he went on to finger fuck you even after you reached your high to help you come down from the heavy orgasm.

you saw him suck his fingers clean and brought his palm to your face. "spit", you did as he commanded. he brought his palm to rub his already leaking cock, making you clench on nothing. "be a good girl for me okay sweetheart?" you nodded in response. "words baby", he said hitting your sensitive clit with his hard thick cock. "mm yes channie, will take all of you. fuck me like you want channie, need you", you were literally a begging mess for the cock that had been fucking you the best.

he brought both his arms at each side of your head and kissed you on your forehead, "i missed you y/n." you kissed him on the lips in response. then his cock slowly entered you, making you whimper and enjoying the pleasure with your eyes shut. he watched you and your pussy taking him so well. after he entered you completely, he waited for you to adjust to it because he knew it too that he was big and thick enough to break aprat without any preparation. after you gave him a sign, he slowly started thrusting in you and soon he was fucking you senseless. the room being filled with the sex air, your moans, his groans and the sound of skins clapping.

"you missed this baby? my cock buried in your pussy? missed my cock fucking you this hard, huh?", he said many more things that you couldnt catch on because you were in your pleasure and focussing on reaching your high.

"fuck-", you screamed when you felt his fingers rub your hard clit. he loved watching you squirm under him. all for him. "chan- ah- fu- fuck", you came with a loud moan. not soon after he came undone.

but he stayed in you for a while more. the both of you smiled at each other sleepishly after the heavy orgasms you both had.

"i love you", you said. "i love you too and more", he said and kisses you on your lips. "now lets get you cleaned up baby", he said to which you protested by hugging him tight suffocating yourself from the heavy body over you. but you missed this. you missed chan.

"i'll treat you better channie, i love you", you said. no one could keep you two apart, not even the misunderstandings. you two were meant to stay together, forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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[milfgyuu]

As It Was [M] Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader Series: SVT x Harry’s House Tags: 9.1k, Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, Romance, Angst, Mature 18+ Summary: On the anniversary of his death, the love of your life returns but things aren’t quite the same. Living with Chan’s ghost proves to be sweet torture in many ways but that’s the thing about real, genuine love…it will always prevail in the end. 

Warnings: Mature Content Throughout, Explicit Sex Scene 18+. Re-occurring mention of death, grief, ghosts, mention of mortal wounding/blood, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex (mxf), oral (f), it’s a heated & steamy lil love scene but rather brief!

Spring is one of those seasons everyone in your small town spends the rest of the year anticipating. Fresh green scenery is splashed with color. Blooming pinks, oranges, yellows, purples. It brings warmth and festivities. Singing children and joined hands. Dancing in the square with a merry tune floating through the air - mingling with the natural floral aroma. 

You loathe Spring. 

It is rot and decay. It is broken and desolate. The smell of fresh flowers knots your stomach and the colors - blinding and sickening to behold. You can’t bear to hear the sounds of the townsfolk and their empty traditions. The music is haunting, twisting, and mocking in a way you can’t seem to escape. 

How could they go on like this? Like nothing has changed? 

As if Spring hadn’t been mangled and ruined just like your heart. 

It’s been two years since Spring lost all it’s meaning and you fled far enough that the sight and smell and sound of that wretched season can no longer touch you. You don’t smell the flowers nor look upon their poisonous petals. The laughter and singing and melodies die before they can reach you; ceasing to exist as if all the oxygen was sucked from the air, suffocating before fading into nothingness once it gets too close. 

Your cottage stands alone in the woods. It’s shingles are drab, dried to the point of cracking and splintering or damp and rotting in the places the trees press in too closely. The windows are cloudy or entirely blocked by overgrown foliage you can’t find the will to remove. The garden out front - one that would have been full of love and tender consideration under different circumstances - is dead and infertile. 

It’s unwelcoming and lacks any spark of life. Too fitting for the ghost who dwells within. 

Neither alive nor dead. Trapped in limbo between the planes of existence ever since you felt Chan’s heart beat beneath your palm for the very last time. 

Your body jolts at the sound of the kettle whistling into the stark silence. It was easily forgotten with your back turned to the kitchen, shoulders squared in some weak attempt to garner the courage to open the small chest in front of you. 

Coming back from the kitchen with the small steaming cup in your hands, you eye the chest carefully as if it might open all by itself before you’re ready. Sometimes you wish it would. You hate being responsible for breaking the seal, contaminating that little bubble of preservation once a year to weep over its contents before carefully sealing them back inside and hiding them away until Spring rears her ugly head once again.

Discarding the porcelain dish off to the side you settle onto your knees, the unforgiving floor bruising your skin in the process. With both hands, you pull the chest closer and take a deep breath. It’s nothing but dust and stale air but then you push the lid open and the faint scent of cinnamon and whiskey barrels into you and your shoulders sag. 

Your face is wet before you’ve even reached a hand inside, daring yourself to pull something from it’s depths but your trembling fingers make you hesitate. 

It’s all you have left of what could have been a lifetime of happiness. 

The smooth wooden handle of Chan’s small knife tickles the tips of your fingers and you lift it gently from the belly of the chest. The blade itself it rough hewn and a bit crooked but he’d loved it anyhow. Gifted to Chan by his father, he’d always carried it around like the greatest treasure. Like a mighty sword though it was hardly large enough to be deemed much more than a novelty. 

You place it on the floor next to the chest and pull a small stack of letters you’d refused to open thus far. They were stacked high and secured with a pretty blue ribbon. The same one he’d bartered for in the market just so he could tie it around the wildflowers he’d picked for you. It’s silk was starting to fray at the corners and there were ink stains on the material from Chan’s delicate penmanship. 

His hands were always calloused and warm and covered in dirt more often than not but they were incredibly gentle. It showed in the way his letters swirled and looped elegantly on the envelopes in front of you just as it had when he’d held you as you danced. If you closed your eyes and quieted your mind, you could feel the rough pad of his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. His warm, thick palms cupping your face oh so softly.

The old silver flask in the corner of the chest glints back at you and you reach inside, taking it into one hand while you rub the back of your other hand against your wet eyes. All that does is smear the tears across your face and you wipe the remnants away with your sleeve. The cap of the flask is screwed on a bit too tightly. Last year you dared a swig and hastily put it away, ashamed of your indulgence when you could have easily emptied it’s contents. Once removed, you put the flask up to your nose and breathe in slowly. 

The whiskey burns just the same and your eyes squeeze together tightly. Chan had only been drunk a handful of times but he’d carried that flask with him like a lush. He’d tease you about the faces you made when you tasted it but you hadn’t ever complained when you tasted it on his tongue. That was different. It was sweeter and full of him. 

Choking down another wave nausea and grief, you set the flask down and peer into the chest. There is one item you’ve not touched since his death and your fingertips burn when they near the handkerchief that you usually avoid with great care. Quiet sobs escape your quivering lips as you pull out the cloth and peel back its layers. 

Amidst the stained material lies a golden locket with it’s chain curled protectively around it like a wyvern with her pile of treasures. Your arms slacken leaving your hands in your lap as you stare down at the necklace catching on the bloodied finger print Chan left behind just before he’d died in your arms. 

You remember it too vividly. 

He was coming home from a neighboring town and you’d been waiting for him all afternoon. You sang as you fed the chickens, tossing the meal into the air and letting it rain down like a winter flurry. You tended the gardens and milked the cows. You twirled in your silly little dress, that golden locket clasped around your throat. 

You spotted him coming from a distance and left the pigs to gorge themselves with an overfilled trough, abandoning the bag as it continued spilling into their pen. You called his name and he smiled and then he stumbled and that’s when you recognized the blood on his shirt, pooling at the front of his abdomen, spilling past his soaked fingers. 

He crashed to the ground and you screamed so horrifically the entire earth writhed and groaned in your wake. Tree roots curled and retreated from the soil, boulders shook and fissured, and the sky cracked open letting forth a torrential downpour of absolute turmoil. 

You’d rushed to hit side, knees cracking as they hit the ground, your dress tearing and soaking up the excess of dirt and blood. It was so bright. As if everything was gray except for the hideous, bright red blood that showed no signs of slowing. You pressed your hand against his, willing the blood to clot, the wound to close. Willing a miracle. 

It didn’t work. 

He’d smiled at you with blood in his mouth, staining his white teeth. It was grim and beautiful and he’d done nothing more than smile and reach for your face. He told you he loved you and nearly choked doing so. You begged him to be quiet and he simply laughed. It was weak and disassembled and it broke you so completely when he reached up and touched his finger to the locket he gave you, accidentally smearing red there too. Suddenly, his hand fell and his heart stopped and you begged for him to take you too. 

You begged and pleaded and sobbed and screamed. 

The memory leaves you light headed and you lay the open handkerchief in front of you on the floor, careful not to jostle the necklace inside. You turn to retrieve the cup of hot water and realize you hadn’t brought along a clean cloth to use, so you dipped the end of your dress into the hot water and carefully bent over the locket, using your dress to clean the dried blood from it’s surface. 

It’s too easy you think, the way the blood disappears within seconds as if it were that simple to erase the horrors of the past. With one finger, you lift the chain and it unravels, catching as the locket lifts off the cloth and hovers in front of you. After a moment, you extend your opposite hand and lower the chain until the locket rests in your palm. It’s heavier than you remember, perhaps because of the enormity of what it now carries within. 

“Have you an idea how cramped it’s been inside that thing all this time?”

The voice comes from behind and you lurch forward, knocking over the chest and all its contents. 

“Kidding! I’m kidding! Ah, damn-”

You snatch up the knife and raise it before you, the uneven brick of your fireplace imprinting painfully into your back as you press against it. The blade clatters to the floor when you look up to find a terribly beautiful and familiar face looking back. 

“Oh Gods!” you choke out hysterically, scrambling further away and knocking your head on a low table. You hiss, pressing your fingers to the wound and your fingers come away mostly clean but the sight of bright red makes your chest tight and the figure approaches with something akin to concern. You’d think him nothing but a figment of your imagination but as he moves you hear his footsteps and when he accidentally kicks the empty chest it spins out of the way.

Chan reaches for your hand but they never connect and it comes away like mist before it’s fully corporeal again. The man you love, who died in your arms years ago, stares down at his hand in shock. He lays it against the brick and he can feel the rigid texture of it. Looking even more desperate, he tries again to touch you but he cannot. You feel nothing but cold where he attempts to hold you. 

“I…” He looks at his hands and then back to you, “I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t think you were real,” his voice trails off and he shakes his head, smiling at you in all the ways you’ve missed, “You’re surely a sight for sore eyes.”

His name is all but a whisper on your lips. “You didn’t think I was real? I don’t understand...how can this be?”

“Well,” he shrugs as if he’s not all that sure himself, “When I ah…departed…I think I wanted to stay so badly that a piece of me latched onto that locket. I hadn’t ever expected to return…well, somewhat return. I’m still not sure that I understand the intricacies of the afterlife.”

You stand on shaky legs and Chan grumbles with frustration when he reaches out again and remembers he can’t help you. It’s a divine sort of torture to be reunited with the one you love without the ability to touch them. He motions for you to sit on the lounge and frowns at the torn cushions. Its state is no better than anything else in this old house. 

You watch as he sits next to you and marvel at how real he looks. Had you not known the truth of things you’d think he was alive and well like it’s all been some terrible nightmare. That truth is solidified when you stretch your arm out and straight through Chan’s chest. He glances down with a grimace and snatch your hand back to your chest. “Sorry.”

It’s quite possible you’ve finally lost your mind. You’re not sure that you care.

Chan chuckles at the quiet embarrassment in your body language and grins like there isn’t anything amiss. “I’ve missed you terribly,” he starts and your chest cracks, “You look beautiful as ever.”

Choked laughter is swallowed by another torrent of tears and Chan wishes desperately to hold you. “You’re still a awful liar. I look wretched,” you correct him, your hands shaking as you wipe at your face, “I’ve looked as vacant on the outside as I've felt on the inside since you left.”

“Nonsense,” he chides, smiling gently as he reaches down and takes up the handkerchief in his hands. It seems as though he can physically interact with most things, except for you. “The cottage does seem a little…vacant though. Have you re-arranged the furniture? Painted the walls…gray…perhaps? Decided to house little orphan spiderlings?”

Your scoff is wet but entirely familiar to Chan. 

“Forgive me if I haven’t the spirit to dust or paint,” you sigh, “It’s hard to bring life to a dwelling that lacks that of which within.”

“Pretty, pretty words as always. Don’t you know I’m just a poor farm boy?” his canines shine with mirth, “Don’t you remember telling me that my hands were built for a sickle and a plow. Too rough and filthy to hold a such delicate bindings?”

You remember quite clearly how you used to bite back at his teasing as a child. You were a little girl with ribbons in your hair and he was just a boy with dirt on his pants. That was years before you spent your days with him in the gardens as Chan taught you how to tend to different plants and crops before retiring under a tree where you’d read to him well into the sunset with his head in your lap, one of your hands carding through his hair. 

“It’s a relief to know your good humor is not lost.”

“It’s a relief to know you’ve not forgotten about me.”

His change in tone is hardly noticeable but you’ve spent more time reading him than any of the books you’ve since neglected on the cobweb covered shelving in the room. 

“I could never forget you,” you tell him quietly, placing a hand over his in the space between you. It of course sinks through to the cushion beneath but the sentiment is received and Chan quickly shoulders away an errant tear. 

He sniffles, albeit a little too loudly, and slaps his thighs, standing to look down at you with another dazzling smile. “Well, that’s enough of that,” he gestures for you to stand since he can’t offer you his hand, “Why don’t you show me around and put me to work? These hands are getting much too soft for my liking,” he says as he wiggles his fingers for you. 

How like him to ignore any and all lingering questions in favor of teasing and laughter. How like you to fall for his charms so easily, allowing him the pleasure of winning you over with his distractions. You stand and make like you’re snatching for his hands, smiling for the first time in years. 

“They are looking a bit soft, aren’t they?”

He bites his lip, sealing in the overwhelming amount of joy blooming in his chest. If his heart could still beat, he knows it would thump so loudly you’d hear it from across the room. 

“Quite soft,” he pretends to frown down at his palms, “If I'm to haunt you for eternity you might as well make good use of them. I’m certain you’re just itching to order me around and I’ve grown tired of sitting around waiting.”

Perhaps you’re damning yourself by giving into this fantasy but it feels too real and you won’t allow yourself to question it any further. He’s here. 

You grin back at him and hum. “I do suppose you could be useful.”

It’s a strange notion that someone no longer alive could be so full of life.

Granted a second chance, Chan doesn’t waste a single moment with you. Together, you transform the dilapidated cottage into a home filled with love, and light, and color. Chan scrubbed and buffed the windows until the sunlight poured in while you swept and dusted bidding all your spiderlings farewell. 

Morning were spent fixing the old henhouse or rather Chan rebuilt the coop while you admired his work from your position in the garden. He’d already cleared the overgrowth and tilled the soil to his satisfaction before he let you set foot in it, wanting to ensure you didn’t dirty your delicate hands until you were ready to choose what to grow. Even then he hounded you to wear your gloves and your hat, making sure you took breaks along the way. 

Meanwhile he worked without breaking a single sweat, grumbling about how much easier the farm work would have been if he could have gone without food, sleep, and shade. 

It was still a marvel that he was here with you but you were reminded of the gift’s limitations too often. 

As it was, Chan only existed in the cottage and it’s immediate grounds. You’d learned so one day when he attempted to go into town with you and began fading away the moment he’d stepped outside of the invisible barrier. You rushed him home, even though he seemed to be well and intact, and did not let him out of your sight for days on end, worried he would disappear entirely. Worried that next time, you would not get him back.

Ever faithful and present at your side, Chan reassured you he wasn’t leaving again and you both agreed he would remain home when you went into town for things. In hindsight, you may have seemed a bit mad to the townsfolk, dashing about to get everything you had needed each time you visited but the look on Chan’s face when you returned home had been well worth it. 

Seedlings for the gardens, a few new books, material for Chan’s newest project, and something he hadn’t been able to see or hold in years…a few hens and a handful of chicks. 

Chan’s teasing about being a lowly farm boy were only half truthful. He was cut from the same cloth as his father and his grandfather before him, all naturally gifted farmers. He’d loved his animals and cared deeply for them, understanding and appreciating all they give to us in return. He was elated when he felt the fuzzy texture of the chicks’ feathers in his hands. 

So much so, he’d wanted to kiss you right then and there until he remembered he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t touch you or kiss you or hold you and yet he could ache and yearn and crave the feeling of you so badly he felt weary down to his bones. Some nights while you slept he climbed from your shared bed and wallowed in turmoil alone where you couldn’t see his sorrow and desperation come to fruition but when you woke up, he was there with a smile and he kept his empty hands full all day long to keep them busy. If his hands were working, it kept away the stinging absence of your warmth for just a little while. 

It was a miserable looking afternoon when you’d set off to town to deliver the eggs yielded from the hens. The rain had come and gone most of the day and though he’d suggested you wait until tomorrow, you insisted the break in the weather should be enough time to care for your chores and so he waved you off before turning back to the cottage with a sigh. It really had come a long way. 

He had been working on a project in secret for some time and now that it was ready, he figured he might surprise you with it upon your return. Using the material you brought home for him weeks prior, Chan built a new lounge for the sitting room. He’d only needed to pull apart the old one to re-use a few wooden supports and by the time he was finished the rain was coming down hard, yet you hadn’t come back. 

Moving the furniture around, he eyed something that did not belong discarded on the floor. The golden locket that had somehow brought about his return had been hidden under the lounge, misplaced when you had jumped away from his voice. It was a wonder how neither of you had thought about it since but he smiled and pocketed the necklace for the time being. 

Just before Chan could get to it, you suddenly appeared through the front door, soaked to the bone. He chided you for getting caught in the storm and ushered you in the bathing room, drawing a hot bath while you stripped off your wet clothing. The audible thwap of each article hitting the ground echoes in his ears but he doesn’t look away from the bath, dropping a bit of soap into the water to bubble up. 

He turns for you to enter the water and only once you’re submerged with your body somewhat obscured does he meet your eyes. “You stay in there until you’re warm enough,” he murmurs with a stern look of concern, “I won’t have you dying over some silly little cold because you were caught dallying in the rain.”

“Right,” you answer him, teeth chattering, “Being mortally wounded is much more distinguished than a silly little cold.”

Chan bites back a laugh and he moves to leave. “Suppose we could embellish your headstone a bit,” He turns back to you for only a moment, “Whatever did you put on mine anyway?”

The question is a jest because he knows burial isn’t traditional, rather, families travel with their deceased loved ones and give them a proper send off on a pyre out to sea and he was no different. 

You lean over the edge of the tub and set your chin upon your crossed arms. “It reads, ‘Here lies the silly farm boy who should have stayed on the farm’,” you smile weakly and there is a phantom throbbing where his still heart lies, “I might forgive you if you manage to put the fire on before I’m done. I might even read you a bed-time story.”

His lips twitch and he bows his head, “As you wish.”

Your eyes catch on his shoulders, seemingly more tense than usual, but the door clicks shut and you dip under the water savoring the warmth and ignoring the tug in your chest. 

You stay hidden in the bathing room until the water runs cold and let yourself feel the prickled bite of the evening air on your skin. Feeling numb is better than feeling nothing at all and you shut out the too human craving for connection. 

With hair half dried, dressed simply in a white gown and bare feet, you follow the sound of the crackling fireplace into the sitting room. Chan looks up from where he’s seated on what is no longer your tattered old lounge but something new and seemingly his own doing. The corners of your lips turn up. “So, this is what's kept you so busy?”

“The old one was wreaking havoc on my ghoulish posture,” he shrugs, standing and crossing the short distance to stand in front of you. He isn’t so chaste as to not notice your undress, the impression of your bare figure beneath. “You’re not dressed properly.”

“You built me a fire,” you smart.

Chan stands so closely you imagine the warmth that used to permeate your skin. 

“I also built you a lounge.”

“Any other surprises?”

Chan bites his bottom lip and your eyes hang on the motion for a moment. His eyes catch your own and he smirks, reaching into his pocket. “I did find something rather important,” he lifts the necklace you hadn’t realized was missing and he raises his brows at you, “I’d like to chastise you for being so careless but I suppose I posed a greater distraction than you’d intended so I’ll allow the slight.”

You tug at the ends of your gown and give a little curtsey, a mockery of his earlier bow. “How gracious of you, good sir. One more favor if I may ask,” you turn your back to him and look over your shoulder, “I’d loathe to lose track of it again.”

“Fine,” he breathes out slowly, “You still owe me a story though.”

You smile to yourself and Chan carefully slips the necklace around your throat, clasping it at the base of your neck. Then, the oddest thing happens. 

His knuckles ghost over your shoulders and you feel him, actually feel him. His warmth, his proximity, the cinnamon and whiskey. You whirl around in shock and Chan’s hands are still raised in the air. His mouth pops open, “Did you feel that?”

Without answering you raise your arm until your palm hesitates just over his chest. It would be too big a blow for it to simply phase through like usual but you push forward and your hand hits solid form. The material of his shirt bunches beneath your fingers and you feel the warmth from his body seeping into your fingertips. 

You look up at Chan but his eyes are glued to his chest as if he can feel it too and then he brings his hand up and covers your own. He lets out a sound of disbelief and his chest heaves making your heart thud violently against your rib cage. 

Chan brings his other hand up and cups your cheek, his eyes watering when he feels your soft skin against his fingertips for the first time since the day he died. His thumb strokes your face so gently it threatens to shatter you into a million tiny shards and then his lips descend upon your own and a euphoric sense of being floods your system. 

Impossible to keep your once empty hands still, you grab at him over his clothes just to feel him, to convince yourself that this is real and not some feverish dream brought on by your poor sensibilities. Chan is much the same and you wish the imprint of his hand splayed against your spine could be burned into your flesh. He presses you closer and closer, bending over you with the desire to take back every single missed touch.

Breaking away for breath is but a mere parting of lips only. 

“I don’t understand,” you murmur in astonishment but Chan simply shakes his head. 

“I don’t care for an explanation,” he pants, pushing his lips against yours desperately. 

The fire paints the shadows in the room in yellows and oranges when he hitches your gown in his hands, fisting the material before pulling it over your head and casting it away. It dances in your eyes when he lays you down on the cushions and you watch him pull away his clothing piece by piece. He looks at nothing but your glow illuminated by the flames and when his body covers your own, you hook your leg around his hips, the heel of your foot pressing into his thigh. Your breasts brush against his chest and your heart beats loudly enough for the both of you, the wildfire inside a magnificent beast compared to the tame licks of curling heat burning in the hearth.

The unrelenting instinct to never let your bodies more than breadth apart drives Chan mad with the urge to knead and claw at your flesh but he’s gentle, reverent. His lips blaze a path from your lips to the crux of your thighs. He licks, and bites, and kisses every inch of skin available to him not daring to take a mere second of this blessing for granted. 

You moan into the open air, both hands carded into his locks, tugging the strands to bring him back before he throws you over the edge of oblivion. 

Your fingers pull at his roots and he breathes, hot and heavy against you, dragging his tongue over your slick heat again and again. He follows the second or third tug and you reach between your bodies as he rises, taking him in your hand to guide him to where you need to feel him most. 

The rise and fall of your chest is mesmerizing and Chan can’t take his eyes away from you and your gloriously beating heart, even as he sinks between your thighs and loses himself in the way your body urges him closer when he slowly drags his length in and out. As if resisting his retreat, you pull him back in, fingernails digging into his skin, ankles locking around him. 

You stare up at him, lashes fluttering, mouth open, chin tipped, and throat bared. How he wants so badly to mark it. To leave blemishes from teeth and tongue. To remind you of how thoroughly he touched you Gods forbid he never gets to touch you again. To convince himself this isn’t all a dream. 

He leverages himself against the arm of the lounge behind your head, eyes trained on your face. Every breath that parts your lips increases in effort and your yet your body still urges him closer and he obeys each and every one of your wordless commands. 

Hours slip by unnoticed.

By the time the fire is nothing but warm glowing embers, your bodies are spent but they do not part. You lie together, legs intertwined. You brace your chin upon your hands much like you had in the bath but this time your arms are crossed over Chan’s bare chest. His eyes are closed but he is very much awake. 

“Have we considered that perhaps I’ve gone entirely mad?”

Chan doesn’t open his eyes but he does offer a short laugh. “What a disheartening sentiment to hear after making love to a woman.”

“Says the ghost of my lover,” you roll onto your side, keeping your thigh firmly planted across his hips, “I didn’t mean it to be a bad thing. I’d gladly stay in this delusion as long as you’re here with me.”

He shifts his outside hand to your thigh and strokes your skin. The subtle roughness in the pads of his fingers dissolving your will to keep up the discussion. Chan opens his eyes and smiles down at you. “A delusion?” he questions, “Or rather one of those fairytale stories of yours? Surely you’ve not read something quite as fantastical as this, have you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come across one like it,” you grin, “Perhaps I’ll write one of my own.”

“Well,” he stretches, arching his back in a wave that carries you along with him, “I am certain you owed me a story this evening.”

You don’t answer right away and Chan glances down, catching you staring at the scar across his stomach, the cause of his fatality. You glide your fingertip over the raised skin. “Maybe it’s time you shared a story,” you murmur, daring to meet his eyes, “We haven’t spoken about what happened to you.”

He tenses beneath you. “I’m not sure it’s something worth sharing,” he admits, “Dwelling on the past tends to make us question the present. How things might be different had they gone another way.”

His voice is distant when he says that last part and you understand that as painful as it may be for you to hear, it may be worse for him to say aloud. 

You’re quick to change the subject and force a half-convincing yawn into the palm of your hand. 

“Well, I’m not sure I have the energy for stories anyhow,” you wiggle your way up and steal a kiss, “Won’t you take a lady to bed? A bit uncivilized to sleep nude in the sitting room.”

Chan’s grin is wicked and heat licks up your spine. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he takes a handful of your backside and squeezes, “I think we could be even less civilized in the kitchen.”

You gasp. “The kitchen?”

He winks, “All the way down to the floorboards.”

The prospect of such a thing makes your stomach flutter in anticipation but Chan’s already moving your bodies so he can stand and haul you up into his arms, making his way into the bedroom. He promises to make good on his suggestion tomorrow and he certainly does, the rain keeping you indoors and in his arms all day long. 

Summer bleeds into the early days of winter and you’re already preparing to mourn the loss of color in your garden. Some will hold out, hardier than the more delicate flowers, but they certainly aren’t the prettiest. You made sure to take clippings for spring and selfishly stole a few more to bring inside. Chan found an old vase in one of the cupboards and you arranged them carefully to display in one of the windows. 

Chan spends much of his time tending to his animals, building things, and stealing kisses from you as often as he can. Which is very, very often. 

You’ve never truly understood what miracle allowed him to remain whole and solid under your fingertips but you thanked the Gods for it every single day. Chan has a feeling it has something to do with the golden locket that sits against the base of your throat and is often caught staring or stroking his thumb over it as if it might help him somehow understand it’s secret innerworkings. 

It was disappointing to learn that he still could not leave your small homestead. 

He shrugged it off of course, that’s what Chan does. He brushes things off like it doesn’t bother him, gives you that dazzling smile, kisses you, and sends you back to your garden or your book. Then he spends the next five hours tirelessly chopping wood behind the cottage until you’re sure there are no trees left standing.

You also still hadn’t learned anything more about Chan’s death. 

Eventually the days get shorter and the chill drives you indoors a little bit earlier. Chan keeps the fire going inside the cottage to keep you warm and you repay him in many different ways but tonight, it’s something more reminiscent of your youth. 

You sit on the floor with your back propped up against the lounge and Chan lays with his head in your lap. His eyes are closed but he’s awake, humming contentedly while you read him a book and stroke his hair. It’s quiet and peaceful, nothing short of a blessing to share your life with him - even if it’s not the same. 

It’s not better or worse. Simply different. 

Chan listens so closely to the words you read aloud to him, the way your delicate tone wraps each syllable in silk, and he thinks about how fortunate and entirely unworthy he is of keeping it all to himself. 

The past few months he’s felt the weight of the living and unliving situation you’ve both grown so accustomed to. You’re a young woman living alone in the middle of the woods with a man who isn’t quite a man anymore. Simply a being lucky enough to cheat death and return to his lover with nothing to offer her. Not like he had before. 

He would have given you the world and now all he can give you is himself. 

The guilt drove him mad. 

“You’re not listening to word I’m saying, are you?”

Chan opens his eyes to find you smiling down and you close your book, setting it aside. He turns his head in your hands and kisses the inside of your palm. “I’m always listening to you, love.”

“Mhm, who is full of pretty words now?”

Chan cracks a grin. He loves when you taunt him with his own words. 

“Tell me,” you run a finger along his fringe - always the same length, the same shade. No need for a haircut in the barn like you subjected him to years ago. 

You think he might avoid talking about it, whatever is bothering him, but instead he let’s out a long sigh and suddenly sits up next to you. You glance over at him in surprise and see him open and shut his mouth, and then try again a second later. 

“Do you remember what you wanted to call our children?”

The questions strikes you so odd and unexpectedly that you stumble over your answer, grasping onto that long ago memory of a silly little dream made up one summer afternoon. Chan had stole you away from your chores only to laze about in the field. He laid your head in his lap instead, poking little wildflowers into the crown of your hair while he asked you all sorts of hypothetical questions about the future. 

“It was ah,” you squeeze your eyes for a moment and the names return. “Hana for a girl and Haru for a boy.” 

“Do you ever mourn them?”

The lofty smile that had parted your lips only seconds ago flips into a frown and your brows knit together. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

You hadn’t the chance to have children so you couldn’t fathom why he would be asking if you mourned them. How can you grieve for something you’ve never had?

The pain in his voice and his posture is palpable as if it hovers just between your bodies. You lean into it without hesitation, reaching for him in the dark so he’s not alone but when you physically touch him he withdrawals into himself and your body turns to ice. 

“I promised you a full life,” he says with shaking hands and distant eyes, “Marriage, children, a home full of joy and love…yet all I’ve done is take everything away from you.”

You tremble out his name, eyes burning and threatening to spill over for the first time since Chan had come back into your life. You could not comprehend why he was saying the things he was. You were happy. You were loved. How could he not see that?

Warmth mercifully bleeds into your skin where Chan rests his hand - real and calloused yet so gentle - and your eyes meet, both red and weeping silently. 

“I cannot be the husband you deserve, nor give you the children we once prayed for,” he utters into the still air, “It’s selfish of me to stay here when I cannot provide a life outside of these four walls. You should living the life you’ve always dreamed of and not giving it all up because I couldn’t let go when I damn well should have. You belong here and I do not.”

The devastation you feel at his words is an ugly monster that morphs into misplaced anger the longer the silence sits between you. 

You knock his hand from your leg and stand with a growl, glaring down at Chan with an ire that threatens to melt the stones around the fireplace. 

“How long have you felt the bitter sting of self-loathing?” your voice is deathly quiet, “Were you going to leave me again? Like you did when you left without word the first time?” Fury like no other sizzles in the air as your voice grows. “Perhaps this time in the dead of night so I could wake to find you missing from our bed? So I could feel the despair of your abandonment once more?”

Chan stands and opens his arms, palms facing up in surrender. “Pleas-”

“No.” The word is absolute and it feels as if cement fills his deflated lungs when you say it.

“I do not mourn the children we never had. I do not wish for a marriage or a husband. I haven’t a single damned care for life outside these blasted four walls,” your breath catches on a choking sob and Chan moves toward you but you shoot a hand out and he stops. “The only being that has ever taken anything worthy away from me is the bastard who ran a sword through the man I love!”

With a final heave, your knees hit the floorboards painfully. Lightning ricochets in your bones until the pain lodges in your throat and you curl inward with sickness. 

He’s there in an instant. Chan wraps himself around your body, pulling you into his lap and against his chest. His arms keep you secured but his hands wander frantically, willing every ounce of hurt away, praying to the Gods that he might endure it instead. He rocks your body, soothing your tears and your deeply wounded heart to the best of his ability. 

Your hands latch onto his shirt, nails piercing his skin but he doesn’t so much as wince at the pain because it hasn’t the slightest affect compared to the trauma you’d be dealt in this lifetime. He can hear your muffled words against his throat. Apologies and broken begging for him not to go. He doesn’t know if you’re asking him but he’s not going anywhere and he’d sooner set the heavens ablaze than leave your side ever again. 

“I’m so sorry, my love, I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, “I’m not going to leave you, I swear it. I won’t ever leave you alone again. Please forgive me for being such a fool. I only want for you to be happy and I couldn’t forgive myself for ruining the life we had imagined but I understand now. I understand and I’m sorry.”

He utters it over and over until you’re sure his voice will run hoarse. 

“I don’t need those things to be happy,” you press your face closer to his throat and don’t feel a shred of sadness when you don’t feel a pulse, “You are all I need in this life and any other.”

“I’m yours,” he murmurs, gracefully standing and lifting you both from the floor. 

He says it again when he lets you down into the bed, and again when you pull him under the covers and lay your head on his chest. He whispers it as you close your eyes and feel his fingertips trail over your back from your hips to your shoulders in repetition. You hear it in your dreams when you look over and find him sitting next to you with a smile. 

Even here, he belongs to you and death itself cannot keep him from your side. 

When morning comes, the weight on Chan’s chest is no longer an ethical or moral one, but a physical weight and one without burden. 

You hadn’t shifted away in the night. In fact, you hadn’t moved at all. You awoke just the same as you fell asleep with your head on your lover’s chest and your arm looped firmly around his waist. If anything, your leg might have been the only difference, now tucked snugly between his own but when you move to sit up, Chan tugs you closer and you realize perhaps you weren’t the only one needing to stay anchored to the other.

“I was wondering when you’d finally stir,” he murmurs into your hair with a hint of mirth, “I was beginning to think you pricked your finger on a spindle.”

“If I close my eyes again will you wake me with a kiss?”

“Then we might not ever leave the bed,” he smarts.

“Don’t you have animals to tend to, farm boy?” you lift your head to gesture at the sunlight peering through the curtains, “Sun’s awfully high.”

His voice is soft as are his lips when they capture yours off guard. 

“So sweet,” he whispers to himself as he pulls back, “I wanted to share just one more thing with you before we started a new day.”

You groan, rolling onto your back. “Haven’t we cleared this up. I’m perfectly grateful to spend the rest of eternity together…gardening, and reading, and dancing, and fucking til our hearts content and then doing it all over again day in and out. Just the two of us. What’s left to discuss?”

“My death,” he sighs and you sink further into the bed. 

Maybe it’s best to simply close your eyes again. 

The second your lids meet they shoot open when Chan’s rolls his body over your own. He’s staring back down at you with a tired crease in his forehead. “You’ve neglected to outgrow your petulance, darling.”

Your only answer is a huff and Chan resituates himself so that he’s hovering above you without keeping you under his full weight. 

“I know I told you I went there for trade and supplies but my trip had another purpose,” his lips twitch as he meets your eyes, “I visited the jeweler and bought a ring.”

You open your mouth in shock and he offers a sad smile.

“It was perfect and I think you would have really loved it,” his fingers toy in the material bunched at your waist, “I couldn’t wait to get home and find somewhere to hide it. I finished my errands before making my way home. Passed the time trying to decide how I would do it…propose I mean…what I would say, all the things I would probably forget once I was in front of you…”

Reaching up, you place your palm against his cheek. 

“I was so busy overthinking that I wasn’t paying attention to the woods around me until I felt a blade at my back. Lousy bandit ambushed me and demanded everything I carried. I hadn’t any gold left and only carried a small knife worth less than half a silver. He took the empty pouch even though I told him there wasn’t anything left. Right pissed to find I was hiding an engagement ring.”

The pieces fit together before he finishes. 

“You fought with him to keep it.”

“Would have won too if the bastard hadn’t fought dirty,” he grumbles, “It was naïve of me to think a thief would try to leave with honor after defeat but I turned my back like a fool and he ran his sword through it. Had the nerve to spit at me something like, ‘Crawl back to your woman and die at her feet’. Didn’t even bother to look for the ring again before he left me to bleed out in the dirt but I knew I had to make it back home,” his eyes flit to yours, “I had to make it back to you.”

Because you would have scoured the earth should he have disappeared and not come back, and he knew it. Better to have him die in your arms than drive yourself mad never knowing what had happened to him. He’d outran death just long enough to make it back to your side and suddenly your small hands cannot grasp enough of him at once. 

He’s quiet as you weep, hands seeking solidity in every inch of his body. 

He’s here. He’s home. He made it back to you, again.

Chan kisses you back each time you touch his lips, sweeping across his cheeks and nose, and chin before finding his mouth again. He’s as real as can be given the circumstances. 

“That’s everything,” he whispers, thumbs wiping at your cheeks, “No more self-loathing or sad stories, I swear it.”

Your bottom lip trembles with a watery laugh, “Are you finally realizing that I don’t need much to be happy? I have you. That’s all I need.”

Chan laughs in return. “Oh? I’m not much, then?”

Your sour face makes his lips twitch into a smile and he kisses you, though you don’t kiss him back. It only makes him laugh harder, kissing all over your face despite your rolling beneath him to free yourself. He wins you over, eventually, and you indulge him. 

“You really would have loved that ring,” he sighs, falling back down against the pillows at your side now, “It’s a shame it’s probably buried…or melted…I’m not actually sure what happened with my body…”

You sit up and tilt your chin. “We built a pyre and held a ceremony.”

“Ah, melted then,” he says with a shrug and further explains at your confusion, “It was still in my pocket.”

Your brow creases. “I changed your clothes, of course. You think I’d send you off in dirty, bloodied clothes?”

Oh, well…He supposes he didn’t really think of it at all but now that you’ve said it aloud it does sound stupid to have thought you wouldn’t have cleaned him up. You always fussed after him in life, why wouldn’t you in death?

“I…” you start and stop, bowing your head as if ashamed of what you’ll confess. “I kept the clothes…I don’t know why. I thought to burn them long ago but I couldn’t do it. They’re tucked away on the shelf in the closet.”

Chan’s spine straightens and he stands from the bed with such haste that his ankle remains wrapped in the sheets. He kicks them off when you ask what on earth he is doing but he’s already in the closet, pushing things around. You direct him toward the lefthand corner and explain that the clothes were wrapped carefully in a spare length of cloth. 

You hadn’t washed them when you gently removed them from his too-cold body. Like an automation of sorts you pulled them off, folded them tightly, and set them aside until you knew what to do with them. The dirt and dried blood are still very much present and it turns your stomach when Chan unveils them in a rush. 

He doesn’t bother to examine the shirt and goes straight for the pants. Torn, stiff, and filthy. Digging into the right pocket he swallows thickly and frowns. After a moment, he reaches into the left pocket and freezes when his fingertips touch metal. Slowly withdrawing his hand, Chan’s jaw nearly unhinges. 

The ring is there, in his hand, perfectly preserved. 

When he turns over his shoulder, you’re still in the bed, now sitting up on your knees, waiting for him to tell you what he’s on about. There has to be a reason for all of this. 

“Would you still marry me?”

The words tumble out of your mouth and you’re unsure if they even make sense.

“Marry you? Do you mean back…then, I - well, yes I believe we would have married…or I’m sorry…would I marry you…now? Could we do that - If that’s what you m-meant…”

Chan crosses the small distance left to the bed and braces your jaw in his open hand, pulling your lips up to meet his in the middle. Your legs tingle and you threaten to topple over either toward him when he pulls or back onto the bed when he bends over you but then his hand slips down around your waist. His forehead rests against your own and he chuckles at the way you’re still trying to mentally catch up. 

He brings his left hand up between your bodies and pinched between his thumb and forefinger is the engagement ring he bought you. The very same one he fought to keep and you unwittingly saved when you let yourself hold onto a piece of the past. 

“It’s likely frowned upon to wed a dead man,” he grins - looking more alive than ever, “But I was hoping you might consider it.”

You glance down at the ring and back up into his hopeful eyes. 

“Chan, I-”

His fingers press into your skin with a bit more urgency. “I know I can’t give you a proper wedding and it’s likely that only the two of us will ever know but I-”

“Yes,” you interrupt him and he doesn’t realize what you’ve said.

“- Swear i’ll make you so happy for as long as you live and beyond that even. If you’re to cross over I’ll be here holding your hand and we’ll be together in this life too-”

You kiss him instead and though his lips keep moving for a second he finally shuts up long enough to lose track of his rambling. When you pull away he’s beautiful and nearly breathless, as if his body still demanded that he stop to breathe, and your smile threatens to split your cheeks in half. 

“Are you finished begging?”

“Begging? I’ll get down on both knees right this moment if you want me to.”

You tug at him to slow down with a gentle laugh. “If you were listening you would have heard me say yes already.”

He sways on his feet and grins. “Yes? You’re certain?”

“Always, yes.”

So, there was no big wedding like you’d once dreamt about as a whimsical child. 

There was no dress, no guests, no band. 

But there were flowers, everywhere, their beauty and fragrance further pronounced by the warm rays of sunlight and the gentle breeze swirling about at the back of your cottage. There was the quiet melody of the creek mingling with the rustling of the leaves on the trees. There was palpable joy and bliss in the air around you as you stood beneath a tall oak tree to exchange your vows. 

And most importantly. There was Chan. 

He’d upheld his vows impeccably for over fifteen years and broke the last of them when you became gravely ill and bed ridden. For the two of you, there was no parting at death. Death was only the next chapter in your story and you left the earth with your husband’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. Neither of you wept for you knew what awaited you on the other side. 

Opening your eyes after your final breath felt surreal. 

You’re no longer laying in the bed of your cold cottage. No longer weak or frail. You’re standing on your own two feet in the middle of a field so similar to the ones you and Chan had chased each other around in from your youth but it was different. Not better or worse, simply different as it was, and your refreshed eyes scan the open plain. 

You hear laughter wrapped in warmth and familiarity, and you turn with a smile. 

Chan barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you both go crashing to the ground, rolling over soft grass and wildflowers. It’s natural to fall into place with you looking up at your husband with stars in your eyes while he leans over you with his boyish smile and messy hair. 

“Is it too soon to say you look heavenly?”

You scrunch your nose at his terrible jest and look around at the sky above him. You pluck a small white flower and tuck it behind his ear, “Is that where we are? Heaven?”

“I haven’t a clue but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you murmur, tracing the lines of his face. “So what do we do now?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks at you and he dips his head down for a long, sweet kiss. His eyes sparkle with mischief when he whispers, “Anything we want.”

Thanks for reading! 💗 (also- if you caught the subtle nod to one of my favorites, ‘The Princess Bride’, i love you, SMOOCH!)

SVT M.List | Main M.List |

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfguu, 2019. ©️

#lee chan fanfic #dino fanfic #svthub #caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #svt fanfic #lee chan angst #lee chan fanfiction #lee chan x reader #dino x reader #dino fanfiction #svt dino fanfic #svt chan fanfic #svt smut #svt angst #lee chan oneshot #svt x harry's house #kpop fanfic #kpop oneshot #svt x reader #lana writes

[sadnightforus]

[11:41 AM] You and Chan are standing in front of a quiet place, more specifically a route where you used to go to your English school. 

 He looks at you, already knowing by then that you would most likely beg him to stay. But it’s what he is here for today— he has already made up his mind and that is, you both need to break up for good. 

 It’s neither your fault or his. It’s not out of the guilty conscience that he had done something terribly wrong behind your back but in fact, he fell out of love with you while you fell deeper in love with him. 

 It’s painful to think that it’s the end. 

“What had I done so wrong?” Was the question you found some courage within yourself to ask him. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. To think that he doesn’t look at you like how he used to months ago made it so hard to accept it. 

 What changed between you and him?

“You did nothing. It’s not your fault…” He can’t bear to look at you at all, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Then so what? You’re gonna tell me that it’s your doing that drove us to this point?” You held back your tears, the ache in your chest is painfully unbearable. It’s hard to believe that he simply wakes up and decides that he loses attraction towards you. 

“Yeah.” He gulps, lifts his face to meet your eyes that are dangerously close to brimming into tears. “I won’t say it’s not my fault. Believe me, I tried so hard to not let myself feel this way towards you but I don’t want our relationship to continue on a lie and the constant reassurance that we’re gonna be okay anymore. I don’t want to string you along anymore.” 

 You nod, letting his words sink deeper into you. 

 He’s an honest man, you know that. It’s fitting that he doesn’t want to live his life in a lie anymore. It’s also fitting that he thinks that if he keeps you all to himself while his heart doesn’t belong to you anymore, it’s not gonna do both of you any good. 

“Thank you.” Your voice came out as a whisper and the entire time you were thinking, your face was down. Your gaze avoided his earlier but now you decide that you have to bite down on your pride and every emotion aside and tell him what you wanted to say. 

“Thank you for being honest. Thank you for having lovi- loved me all these years. 2 years of good memories and you made me happy. But things change, I guess, so do you. I’ll be okay, go live your life. And thank you again for this moment because at last, being loved by you was enough for me.” 

“Thank you too, Y/N.” Chan replies. “Thank you for the wonderful years we’ve spent together. I’d treasure these memories for a long time. I hope you’re happy and… live your life the way you wanted. The way you always wanted to. Don’t let anything hold you back.” He gives you a small smile, a smile that once made you blush and so giggly inside but it’ll be the last time you’ll ever see that smile in person. You peek at the surroundings, seeing that it’s getting darker and you think you should get out of here.

“I have to go.” You announce, and like the gentleman he is, you know he’s about to offer himself to walk with you one last time, so you immediately put a stop before it can happen. “I can walk by myself.”

“Let me-”

“Please.” You beg, hoping he’ll get the sign. 

 And he did. He watches you turn to walk away, for once and for all. Permanently from his life. 

 But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Because now your tears won’t stop falling, your mind reminiscent about the times you both used to spend together. You wanted to stop time so you can just be happy a little longer. 

 But you also want to speed time up too so you can finally get over him.  

A/N: my timestamp’s definition of fanfics is dangerous because you get a whole drabble on this. Unless it’s not 3k words then it’s not a full length fic from me 👎🏻 reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

#kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #dino fic #dino x reader #dino angst #dino timestamps #lee chan timestamp #lee chan angst #lee chan au #seventeen timestamps

[savventeen]

.|X| THANKS FOR PLAYING |X|.

[synopsis] finals are finally over, and all you want is to keep yourself entertained on the lonely train ride home since your best friend crush isn't coming with you. you don't expect to find yourself becoming the main character in a horror story.

[main pairing] >> chan x gn!reader

[other ships] >> implied reader x ot12 friendship, background verkwan, implied minghao/seokmin [main cast] >> reader, chan, [redacted] [supporting cast] >> vernon, seungkwan, minghao [cameos] >> jeonghan, mingyu, seokmin, seungcheol

[rating] >> 16+ [genre] >> texting au, horror, angst, tragedy [status] >> COMPLETE 2023.06.12 - 2023.07.13 [update schedule] >> daily (sometime between 6-8PM PST) [series warnings] >> psychological horror, (supernatural) gaslighting, implied main character death (reader) [tags] >> slow burn (that technically never actually ignites oops), starts off silly, and then quite suddenly is Not, if you're looking for a happy ending this is not the story for you

[story background/set-up] >> (see episode 00)

[series tag] >> #thanksforplayingsvt

[author's note] i decided to split episodes by conversation, so episodes will average 3-5 screenshots, but there are a few with only single images. also, timestamps (when you see them) are very important :) also also, the only physical description about reader is that they have small fingers

[EPISODE GUIDE] .|| 00 ||.

Friday, December 15th .|| 01 ||. [⚡️💛 Channie 💛⚡️🦦🐈] .|| 02 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX] .|| 03 ||. [🗡️🪱 hannie (would still love if a worm)] .|| 04 ||. [🎧🪢 hansOULMATE] .|| 05 ||. [🍊🔪 sollie’s future husband (evil) (💙)] .|| 06 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX] .|| 07 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX… and 5 others] .|| 08 ||. [🐶🍻 gyubert] .|| 09 ||. [📢🎤 seokminnie] .|| 10 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX… and 5 others] .|| 11 ||. [🐸🍷 haohao] .|| 12 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 13 ||. [🐶🍻 gyubert] .|| 14 ||. [🍊🔪 sollie’s future husband (evil) (💙)] .|| 15 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 16 ||. [🏔🧸 cheollie weollie] .|| 17 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 18 ||. [written - 324 words] .|| 19-1 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX] .|| 19-2 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX] .|| 20 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX] & [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 21 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 22 ||. [🐸🍷 haohao] .|| 23 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 24 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 25-1 ||. [calling: 🎧🪢 hansOULMATE] .|| 25-2 ||. [calling: 🎧🪢 hansOULMATE] .|| 26 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 27 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX... and 5 others] .|| 28 ||. [written ~800 words] .|| 29 ||. [+82 2 XXX XXX XXXX]

After .|| 30 ||. [⚡️💛 Channie 💛⚡️🦦🐈] .|| 31 ||. [⚡️💛 Channie 💛⚡️🦦🐈] .|| 32 ||. [⚡️💛 Channie 💛⚡️🦦🐈] .|| 33 ||. [⚡️💛 Channie 💛⚡️🦦🐈]

Epilogue .|| 34 ||. [Unknown]

Bonus Material Q&A

#thanksforplayingsvt #svt #svt au #svt social media au #lee chan x you #lee chan x reader #svt angst #lee chan angst #cw: flashing #savv writes #savv fics #….i am probably forgetting tags but Oh Well #HERE IT IS Y’ALL IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS

[kwanisms]

🎄Tales from Camp Holiday Special 02🎄

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➮ Chan × fem!Reader wc: 8.7k summary: After being put on wine duty for his family's holiday party, Chan heads to his local grocery store to snag the last few bottles where he sees a small group of girl scouts attempting to sell cookies. He is unwavering, refusing to buy into their corporate cookie empire until he sees who is helping run the stand: none other than Y/N. genres/themes/au: angst (but it only lasts for like 2 seconds lol), fluff, smut; holiday themes, scout themes; non idol au, scout au, camp counselor au, holiday au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, party setting, meeting parents, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @dreamhannies @wonw00t @aikisbbq @hoshithinker @eneiyri @ninanyctophilia @everyw0nu @enhacolor @hybe02z @wonwoothinker @baldi-2 @1004luvangel @hellolittlequeen @duchesskaren @coupsiekkuma @yoonjin96 @sherituhhh join my taglists: permanent | group | special closes after part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED. 

a/n: hey hehe. I kept the same bondage themes from the original cause I feel like he'd still be very much into that lol I'm going to say about 3 or 4 years have passed since the events of Chan's story and the present time but don't think too much about it lol thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: minor dry humping, unprotected sex (just use protection!), minor bondage (f receiving, necktie used as a gag and belt used to bind wrists), impact play (f receiving; spanking and he goes hard), choking (f receiving), spitting, degradation (uses slut, whore, and bitch), hard dom!Chan, sub!Reader, rough sex, and that should be it!

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Chan still didn't know how he of all people got roped into alcohol duty. One minute he was pulling onto his old street, heading for his parents house, the next he was turning around when his mother begged him to run to the closest store and grab a few bottles of wine because his father had mistakenly sent a couple of the bottles meant for their annual holiday party home with some of their friends.

So here he was, the day before Christmas, trying to find a stupid parking place at the local grocery store so he could go in and fight the crowds to buy a couple bottles of wine because his father drunkenly gave away theirs.

He grumbled to himself as he circled the parking lot for what felt like the fifth time, cursing each spot that got stolen by some family or little old lady until he pulled up as another person was leaving.

"Finally!" he whined as the person backed out and pulled away, allowing Chan to steer into the empty space and park the car. "About damn time," he mumbled as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, slamming his door a little harder than he intended.

He pat the top of his car, muttering an apology before turning and heading toward the entrance of the store, thanking the cars that stopped to let him cross with a wave.

It had snowed heavily a few days before but there had been enough traffic and crews out to clear the lots and sidewalks of most of the slush and snow banks. Chan hurried past an employee bundled to the max as he sprinkled ice melt on the sidewalk in preparation of the forecasted snow shower later that night.

It would be a white Christmas after all.

Chan followed the lines inside the building and bypassed the carts, opting to grab one of those little red baskets stacked near the doors. He was only grabbing a few bottles, he didn't need an entire cart, he reasoned with himself.

No sooner than he entered the main entrance did he stop in his tracks, eyes falling on the table set up inside the store.

A homemade poster made with poster board, craft foam, and copious amounts of glitter and glue read three words he hadn't seen in years.

Girl Scout Cookies.

It took all his willpower not to turn around and walk right out of the store in favor of finding another store to shop at to avoid the eventual begging and puppy dog eyes of third grade girls asking him to feed into their corporate cookie schemes.

He wasn't having it.

Except that he was.

He really didn't relish the idea of driving even further across town and struggling to find another parking place just so he could walk into another grocery store that probably had another troop of girls set up to sell their wares.

Chan managed to avoid being seen by sneaking past the stand with an elderly couple.

Dodging the scouts meant he could make a beeline for the wine and spirits section of the store and get exactly what he came for. And what luck he had. There were exactly three bottles of the wine his mother had asked him for.

Resisting the urge to do a little happy dance, Chan grabbed all three bottles and made his way towards the self-checkout. He scanned the bottles, showed his ID to the attendant and paid quickly, bagging the bottles of wine and grabbing his receipt.

He was just reveling in his good fortune as he headed for the exit, hoping to slink past the cookie stand when his luck ran out.

The crowded entrance was certainly not on his side. He stood on his tiptoes to see what the hold up was and of course, one of the motorized carts had died, blocking the only exit out of the store.

Chan cursed under his breath, pulling back his coat sleeve to check his watch. The holiday party at his parents wasn't due to start for another hour and forty-five minutes so this little snag wasn't going to make or break him.

As he waited for the way to clear, his eyes wandered to the only other thing by the entrance of the store.

That damn cookie stand.

He took in the small girls making monetary exchanges for overpriced boxes of factory made baked goods.

His eyes were wandering from one of the girls to one of the adults standing behind her, back facing him as she looked through the cardboard boxes. He watched as she turned and his eyes widened in shock as he recognized her.

Or should he say as he recognized you.

When your sister-in-law called a week ago, you expected it to be about the holidays, Christmas at the family's. What you weren't expecting was your niece to be on the other end, begging you to fill in for her mother and help sell girl scout cookies.

It was well known amongst your family that when it came to selling girl scout cookies, you were a professional. You'd manage to outsell all the girls in your troop every year as well as the other troops in the city. You were good at it as a child. A natural born salesperson.

So when you heard that little voice begging you for your help, you couldn't say no. You expected to just take the back seat while the girls did most of the selling but you soon found yourself falling into old habits, helping make the sign when the first one the girls made fell a little flat. You showed them how to enhance the sign by using craft foam letters, glue, sharpies, and an insane amount of glitter.

You drove to your brother’s house, ready to pick up your niece and one of her fellow scouts. Luckily, the girls helped load all the boxes into your car and the large sign which you looked at with a sense of pride and adoration.

The drive to the local grocery store was an easy one and finding a parking space wasn’t too bad since you chose to park towards the back of the lot. The girls were prepared, having packed a wagon in your trunk along with the cookies.

Inside the store was another one of the scouts with her mother who had already set up the table. She smiled warmly as you approached, carrying the few boxes that didn’t fit in the wagon while your niece, Talia, carried the sign and the other girl you picked up, Yuna, pulled the wagon.

It didn’t take long at all to set up the stand, decorating the table with the sign you’d helped Talia make and unpacking some of the individual boxes of cookies.

The first hour went by and you were surprised at how easily people came over and bought cookies. You, of course, worked your magic, creating sales and teaching the girls how to drive a bargain.

As time ticked by and the number of boxes dwindled, you were certain that the girls would sell all of their cookies before the store closed for the evening.

The cardboard boxes had emptied little by little and soon you were down to the last carton of cookies.

“Two boxes of Samoas!” Talia called to you over her shoulder as she made change for the store patron in front of her. You turned, leaning over to reach into the box and pull out the last two purple colored boxes.

“They’re the last two!” You chirped, turning to look at the patron but your eyes fell on someone standing behind them, looking directly at you with a shocked expression.

‘Chan?’

It was indeed him. Lee Chan. The same Lee Chan you’d met, and hooked up with, during summer scout camp all those years ago. The very same that tied your wrists together and fucked you on a picnic blanket in the middle of a forest.

The same Lee Chan that had disappeared without a trace after that summer, leaving you with a gaping hole in your heart.

Here he was, standing before you now and all because some old woman hadn’t bothered to check the battery on the motorized scooter.

“Auntie Y/N?” Talia’s voice snapped you out of your daze.

You tore your gaze away from Chan and looked at your niece who had been waiting for you to hand the boxes to her. ‘Shit.’

You muttered an apology and handed the boxes of cookies to her.

Your eyes wandered back to Chan who was still standing in the same spot as before, looking at you with the same shocked expression.

You silently hoped he would stop staring and just leave but the universe had other plans.

With a sense of determination he hadn’t experienced in a long time, Chan finally unfroze, crossing the short distance to the table with one thing on his mind: you.

“Hello sir!” A small voice said, drawing his attention away from your face as he looked down at the young girl in front of him.

She was smiling up at him eagerly. ‘Oh no.’

“Would you like to buy some cookies?” She asked and Chan felt his heart sink. He’d never purchased scout cookies before, preferring his mother’s homemade cookies.

Before he could answer, the other adult told the girls it was time to pack up. “But we still have boxes to sell!” One of the other girls said, looking up at the adult who spoke, a pout on her face. “But mom!” She retorted, no real argument to her name. The girl’s mother gave her a pointed look.

The girl who had asked Chan if he wanted to buy cookies turned to look up at you, eyes pleading for more time.

Chan watched as you stepped forward, crouching down to the girl’s level. “It’s okay, Talia,” you said in a soft voice. “We’ve sold most of the boxes,” you added, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You girls did so well,” you continued, offering the girl, Talia, a smile.

Talia smiled back and wrapped her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. “Thanks Auntie Y/N,” she said in an equally soft voice. Chan watched the exchange and felt an unusual tug at his heart. He knew he was going to regret this and his wallet was going to hurt but he cleared his throat, catching both yours and Talia’s attention.

“How many boxes are left?” He asked quietly, looking from you to your niece and back.

“Six~!” Talia replied quickly. Chan looked from Talia to you, waiting for you to confirm. You nodded slowly and silently, a confused expression on your face as he pulled out his wallet. “I’ll buy the rest,” he said, pulling a few notes out of his wallet and handing them over to Talia.

She let out an excited squeak, thanking him and taking his money to make change.

You stood up straight, still looking at Chan with a confused expression. Talia handed him his change as one of the other girls put the boxes in a cardboard box and set it on the table. “Thank you so much!” The girls said in unison. Chan smiled at them before turning to look back up at your face.

“Thanks?” You offered, clearly still confused by his actions. “Start cleaning up, girls,” the other adult said and the three scrambled to start collecting any trash and cleaning up the space.

“So,” Chan started, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t realize you lived in town,” he added. You shook your head. “I don’t,” you answered. “I’m in town for Christmas and I promised my niece I’d help her sell her cookies,” you continued, gesturing at Talia who was currently helping break down boxes and put them in the empty wagon.

Chan nodded, silence falling over the two of you once more.

You swayed awkwardly in place before clearing your throat. “Well, I’d better help them…” you trailed off, gesturing to the girls as they started clearing the table.

Chan felt panic rise in his chest. ‘This might be the last and only time you see her you idiot! Do something!’

He took a step closer, bumping into the table and causing you to turn, eyeing him with wide eyes as he startled you.

“Do you have plans later?” He suddenly asked. Your eyes searched his, flickering between them.

“I’m sorry,” Chan said quickly, shaking his head. “That was stupid of me to ask. I mean,” he said, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips. “Who doesn’t have plans on Christmas Eve?”

You shook your head. You didn’t have plans. The tradition of the cookies and milk left out for Santa as well as what your sister-in-law called “Santa Watch” was theirs, not yours. You were going to go back to your parents’ house and probably curl up with a glass of wine.

“Me apparently,” you answered, a smirk forming on your face as Chan looked up to meet your gaze.

A smile spread across his face. “Wait, really?” He asked, to which you nodded.

“I’m staying with my parents, but we don’t do anything for Christmas Eve,” you answered, watching as Chan’s face lit up. “Do you want to go to a Christmas Eve party with me tonight?” He asked, hoping you’d say yes.

This could be your only chance to see him before you left the city again after the first of the year.

You nodded wordlessly, watching as he reached into his pocket and fished out his phone.

He unlocked and tapped the screen a few times before handing the device to you, which you accepted.

He had opened a new contact on his phone and had your name typed in. You typed your digits in and tapped the save button before handing it back to him. “The party starts at six but I can pick you later,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Sure,” you said with a nod and a smile. “So, let’s say six-thirty?” He asked, smiling widely when you nodded again. “Six-thirty sounds great,” you replied.

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You sat at the breakfast bar in your parents’ kitchen, checking the time on the clock above the range. The tiny black hands told you the time was six fifteen. You had half a mind to cancel but you knew you'd probably never get another chance to spend time with Chan again.

Picking up your phone on the counter, you unlocked the screen and checked your texts with him from earlier.

Chan: send me your location and I’ll come get you You: [location sent] Chan: perfect! See you soon

Letting out a sigh, you locked the screen and set your phone back on the granite countertop, face down and looked over your shoulder to the sliding glass doors leading off the living room onto the snow covered deck in the backyard. It had started snowing again, lightly, as you were getting ready.

You hoped the snow wouldn’t pile up too much. You dreaded the thought of getting snowed in at Chan’s parents home, especially when it was on the opposite side of the city than your parents' home.

You drummed your fingers against the countertop, chin resting in your hand as you waited, trying not to focus on the ticking of the clock.

You wondered if you were overdressed, glancing down at the dress you’d chosen. It was one of your favorites for any holiday themed event but it could work for any other time of the year.

You were drawn out of your thoughts by the vibrating of your phone on the stone countertops.

You snatched the device up quickly to see a couple texts from Chan.

Chan: I think I’m here? Chan: yeah. I’m here. I see your car lol

You got up, ignoring the scraping of the barstool legs on the wood floor and grabbed the small clutch bag you’d chosen for the evening, a smaller black velvet rectangular clutch with gold metal detailing and a dainty gold chain strap.

Inside you had a tube of lip gloss, your lipstick, a small compact mirror, and your wallet. You slipped your phone into the space and moved to grab your coat from the closet by the front door.

As you pulled it on and buttoned the front, the doorbell rang and you rushed to answer it.

On the other side of the door stood Chan. He smiled as you came into view, his eyes sweeping over you quickly. You allowed yourself to take in what he was wearing and knew you’d made the right choice.

He was wearing a pair of fitted black dress pants with a black corduroy thick jacket. Under the jacket, he wore a light khaki sweatshirt with a black trim neckline over a white collared shirt, the top of a black tie barely visible.

His shoes were a simple pair of oxfords in the same blue as your dress.

You pointed down at his shoes, a smile on your face. “Oh look!” You said before pulling back your coat just a bit to flash him the material of your dress.

“We match!” You said with a laugh, causing him to chuckle. “So we do,” he said as you stepped out of the door onto the front porch.

The frigid winter air hit your legs and made you shudder as you pulled the front door shut, making sure it was locked behind you before turning to Chan.

“Holy fuck it’s cold,” you hissed as he laughed, leading you down the steps, holding out his hand for you to steady yourself.

“Thanks,” you murmured as you drew level with him on the sidewalk leading to the driveway. You followed him to his car, a black mid sized sedan with tinted windows.

You felt your cheeks burn as he opened the passenger door for you.

Thanking him, you climbed into the surprisingly warm car that you realized was still running. He must have left it running to keep the interior warm.

Chan jogged around the front of the car and got in the driver’s seat, buckling his seatbelt before looking up at you with a smile. “You ready?” He asked, putting the gear in reverse. You nodded wordlessly, turning to look out the window as he backed out of your parents’ driveway.

‘As ready as I think I can be.’

Pulling up to the house, Chan cut the engine and turned to you. "If they start asking questions, I'll jump in and explain," he said, giving you a warm smile. You thanked him and moved to unbuckle your seatbelt.

Chan was quick, moving around to your side of the car and opening your door for you. "Wow, what a gentleman," you said, a hint of amusement to your voice as the tips of his ears turned red.

"Oh shut up," he scoffed but the smile on his lips was unmistakable.

You glanced up at the house before you and felt your stomach sink just a little.

You had suspected Chan came from money from your summer spent together but just how much money his family had always seemed to elude you until you were standing on the doorstep of his family home, feeling completely out of your comfort zone.

You felt Chan's hand grab yours gently and looked down at your hands before looking back up at him. "Nervous?" he asked, eyes searching yours.

Not wanting him to know just how nervous you actually were, you flashed him a smile. "A little," you said with a small shrug.

'Liar.'

Chan gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before his free hand landed on the doorknob and pushed the level down.

He leaned into the wood, pushing the heavy door open and stepping up into the house. You allowed him to lead you inside, pulling you along gently by the hand.

Inside the house was simply stunning.

It was clear this house had been standing for some time. It was old but extremely well preserved.

The foyer was grander than any house you'd been inside recently. The high ceiling paired with the massive crystal chandelier gave the room a very regal and elegant look.

The floors were white carrara marble. The small polished black diamond shaped tiles in between the squares of marble made the ornate black wood paneling stand out even more.

You quickly unbuttoned your coat and shrugged it off, allowing Chan to take it and hang it up with his.

Chan closed the sliding door to the den after hanging your coat up with his in the darkened room his parents designated as the coat room.

Upon returning to you, he allowed his eyes to wander, taking in the dress you’d chosen to wear.

It was a fitted bodycon dress made of a dark blue velvet with corset bone striping down the bodice and a ruched tulip hem skirt that ended just above your knees.

The straps were thin with gold chain detailing.

He could hardly take his eyes off you and the way the dress fitted your body and hugged it so well.

He placed his hand on the small of your back, reluctantly tearing his gaze away to lead you through the crowded house in search of refreshments and hopefully some wine or champagne.

The kitchen was just as gorgeous as the foyer, the same black wood paneling stopped to make way for a much more modern looking kitchen with black wood flooring, white cabinets and counters with black subway tile walls. You were surprised by the sudden change in architecture and style but it was still amazing.

The counters were covered in any sort of snack, appetizer, or hors d’oeuvre imaginable. In the middle of the kitchen stood a massive kitchen island where plates, bowls, ramekins, cutlery, napkins, and cups were stocked.

The breakfast nook had been emptied of any furniture and instead a bar had been installed where two bartenders stood, mixing drinks.

You glanced at Chan, an eyebrow raised. “A full bar?” You questioned, chuckling as he shrugged his shoulders. “My parents don’t play around when it comes to parties,” he answered, leading you to the kitchen island.

After grabbing plates, napkins and cutlery, you followed Chan through the line, inspecting the spread and grabbing a few things you knew you were going to love as well as a few things you’d always wanted to try.

After filling your plates, Chan led you to the bar and the two of you ordered drinks before you followed him to an empty space and sat on one of many seats placed around each room.

“This is crazy impressive,” you said, grabbing a small cracker appetizer with some sort of cream cheese mixture on it and popping it into your mouth.

Chan snorted in response. “These parties just keep getting bigger and bigger,” he admitted, looking up as a couple passed in front of where you two were currently sitting. “My parents probably invited half the town,” he added.

You giggled before taking a sip of your drink.

You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by the sound of someone calling Chan’s name. He grimaced at you before mouthing an “I’m sorry.”

You watched as he got to his feet and smiled as an older woman, most likely his mother, approached and pulled him into a hug. You stood up, awkwardly brushing your dress to make sure you looked presentable.

The woman pulled back, smiling at Chan and you could tell instantly it was indeed his mother.

Her eyes fell on you and widened quickly.

“Who is this?” She asked, looking from Chan to you and back.

Chan took your hand and pulled you closer.

“This is Y/N,” he answered, turning to look at the woman. “She’s my date, mom,” he added, confirming your suspicions that this was his mother.

Her shocked expression upon seeing you morphed into a warm smile as she let go of Chan and immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s so lovely to meet you!” She said in your ear, hugging you tightly.

A man, no doubt Chan’s dad, stepped forward to peel her off you and hold her firmly. He offered a kind smile as well, introducing himself as Chan’s father, as you suspected.

The conversation shifted as Chan’s parents started grilling the both of you about how you met, when you started dating, and more questions you’d expected. Chan took it like a champ, answering everything so you could nurse your drink and empty your plate.

One your plates were empty, Chan’s mother took you by the arm firmly but gently, and proceeded to lead you through the house, introducing you to various guests as well as showing you around the house.

You were on the second round passing through the main living area and greeting people when Chan finally appeared by your side, handing you another drink and leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“You want to step away? Get some air?”

You took the crystal glass he handed you with some amber liquid and nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes. Chan smiled and leaned in to his mother, whispering something in her ear. She nodded and smiled at you, patting your arm and turned to engage with her guests while Chan took your hand and led you through the crowded room to a staircase and up into the darkened hallway.

You let him lead you past closed doors until he reached the end of the hall and opened the door, pulling you into the dark room.

He moved through the darkness and flipped on a small table lamp, illuminating the room in a dim light.

Peering around the room, which turned out to be a bedroom, you noticed various trophies for sports and academics. You stepped closer to a bookshelf next to the door and looked at all the various encyclopedias and fictional stories, reading off the names softly.

You were inspecting a series of personal academic awards when you remembered you weren't alone in the room and turned to find Chan was watching you look around what was no doubt his old room. You smiled sheepishly, mumbling an apology before turning away from the shelf and taking a sip of your drink.

You weren't the biggest fan of whiskey but this stuff wasn't bad.

"So…" you trailed off, not knowing where the conversation should go, if you should even talk, or what else could possibly happen.

"Your room?" you asked, nodding at the trophies. Chan chuckled lightly. "Yeah," he answered, suddenly feeling very nervous and self conscious. "My childhood room," he added, taking a sip of his own drink. You moved slowly, walking over to the opposite side of the room, the side he stood by.

There were lots of drawings and a bulletin board full of postcards, notes and other scraps of paper hanging above an old wooden desk. The desk itself was neat and tidy, no doubt having been cleared of whatever sat upon it when Chan moved out.

You heard shuffling against the carpet and felt the heat of Chan's body behind you as he set his now empty glass on the wood of the desk in front of you. You wondered when he finished that because it looked much fuller a moment ago.

You felt one of his hands move to your hip, not moving either up or down, just resting in one place, while the tips of his fingers skimmed down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake and sending shivers up your spine.

"Why did you bring me here?" you whispered, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his breath on your neck.

"I thought you could use some space from the people downstairs," he whispered back. You forced your eyes open and turned to face him, his hands shifting to your waist as his eyes studied yours.

"No," you replied. "Why did you bring me here, to your parents' party? Why did you invite me after years of not seeing or speaking to each other?"

Chan's expression changed as you spoke, going from confusion to understanding in a split second. One of his hands moved, cupping your cheek tenderly. "Because I thought if I didn't ask you, I might not get a chance to see you again," he answered after carefully considering his words.

Your eyes danced back and forth, looking into his as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone. "Why did you disappear that summer?" you finally asked. It was the question you'd wanted to ask since you first laid eyes on him in the store.

The expression on Chan's morphed quickly, confusion, concern, understanding, and finally regret passing over his features in quick succession. He let out a heavy sigh before taking your drink out of your hand and setting it on the desk, taking your other hand and leading you over to sit on his old bed.

He sat beside you, turned slightly so he could face you properly.

"I'm sorry," he started. "I am so sorry. I never intended to just vanish," he continued. You sat motionless, listening as he started to apologize and explain.

"I had every intention of continuing things that summer. I didn't want things to end between us. I wanted to get your number, your Instagram, anything so I could contact you but there was a family emergency," he said, taking both your hands in his.

"My brother was in an accident. A really bad one," Chan said, trying to keep his voice even but you could hear how the memory seemed to affect him as he spoke.

"My parents didn't even give me a heads up. They sent a car to come get me. I didn't even have time to leave a message for you. I had time to pack my stuff and then we were gone."

You looked up at his face and watched as his expression of torment morphed into one of shock. "Oh, Y/N," he said softly, hands moving to gently take your face. It was then you realized you had started crying. You apologized, trying to carefully wipe the tears away.

"I'm sorry," you said, chuckling awkwardly. "I don't know why I'm crying," you mumbled.

"It's not like you were my boyfriend."

Hearing the sadness in your voice as you said those words felt like a stab to Chan's heart. Sure, he wasn't your boyfriend. But that didn't mean he didn't want to be.

"I guess I just felt like I'd done something wrong," you continued. "One day you were there and everything seemed to be fine and the next, you were gone. No note, no calls, nothing. I thought you had grown tired of us. Grown tired of me-"

Chan took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him.

You didn't have the chance to say anything else before his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rushed and over much too quick for your liking. Chan pulled back to gaze into your eyes.

"I would never intentionally do that to you, Y/N. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I didn't want things to end that way and I certainly did not want you to feel like I didn't want you. I tried to find you, to find a way to contact you after I got home but I couldn't find you anywhere," he responded softly, thumb moving to brush over your bottom lip gently.

"To me, you were gone, too."

The way he looked at you had your heart aching. It had been mutual then. The pining, the regret, everything.

He'd wanted more, just as you had back then and even now. You couldn't deny that what you felt then and now were feelings of more than just sexual or physical attraction.

Each time you spent together that summer was more than just sex. The two of you had talked about your hopes and dreams, poured your hearts and souls out to one another.

And hearing those words from Chan now were confirmation that he was feeling the same way you were.

"Well I'm here now," you said softly, causing Chan to look up at you. "I'm right here in front of you now, Chan."

Hearing his name tumble from your lips ignited something deep inside him. His lips were on yours in an instant, hands moving to your hips as he pulled you forward and onto his lap.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you straddled him, lips moving against his before parting, allowing his tongue to meet yours for the first time in years.

It was as if nothing had changed.

Chan groaned into your mouth, his hands grabbing your ass firmly as he pulled your hips against his. "Fuck, I missed you," he groaned, his hips bucking up into you, his growing erection pressing into your core. You let out a moan, hands moving to his chest to push him back against the sheets of his old bed.

You rolled your hips, grinding against him and watching the way his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. "You always knew how to ride me," you heard him mutter. Feeling a little bolder than before, you let out a chuckle at his words.

"You look so cute like this," you said softly, slowing your movements just enough to tease him, and yourself, but not give him the pressure and friction he wanted.

"Don't tease me, Y/N," he moaned. "You remember what happened the last time you decided to act like a brat?"

You shook your head, putting on an innocent facade.

"No. I don't," you answered before a smirk appeared on your face.

"Maybe you should remind me."

Your words had Chan flipping you onto your back on his bed and hovering over you in seconds. He rolled his hips against you, rocking his hard cock into your lace-covered sex, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

You let out a whine, your back arching off the bed as he continued rutting against you, causing your panties to stick to you, your arousal seeping through the fabric.

"God look at you," he breathed, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure with each roll of his hips.

"I haven't even touched you properly and you're acting like such a needy slut," he added. You moaned again at the use of the term, thighs clenching around his waist, trying to draw him closer.

"You're so eager for my cock, baby?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you hungrily and not give you the chance to answer him.

"Yes," you finally managed to gasp out when he pulled back.

"Of course you are," he responded, one of his hands sliding up your side to cup your breast through your dress.

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you wore this dress. Parading around like a bitch in heat, showing off your body like a little whore," he growled, hips rutting harder against you.

"Fuck, did you wear this so everyone would see what a slut you are?" he asked, hand on your chest squeezing again. You shook your head quickly. "No! I only wore this for you," you moaned, not noticing the way Chan's face lit up at your admission.

"So you're my little slut?" he asked, slowing his movements as you nodded in response.

"Only yours," you breathed, chest heaving.

Chan pulled back, making you whine until you felt his hands grab your hips and roll you over. He pushed your thighs together and climbed over you, straddling your thighs as his hands moved to your ass, grabbing your cheeks firmly before you felt one of his hands land a firm smack.

The material of your dress helped absorb the shock of the blow but Chan, realizing this, moved quickly, pushing the material up and exposing your ass to him. He groaned, fingers skimming over the material of the black lace thong you were wearing.

"Did you wear these for me, too, baby?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded, murmuring a 'yes' in response.

You felt his hand land another harsh smack to your ass, causing you to yelp. Chan's fingers threaded into your hair and pulled back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"Keep your voice down, baby. Unless you want everyone in the house to know you're about to get fucked."

A shiver ran down your spine, a rush of arousal shooting through your core.

Another sharp smack to your ass had you whimpering into the sheets to muffle the sound. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson," Chan murmured, hands working to undo the tie around his neck.

You looked back over your shoulder as he pulled the material loose and leaned forward, rolling it up and holding it to your face.

"Open that pretty mouth, babygirl," he ordered. You obliged, opening your mouth and allowing him to stuff the rolled up tie past your lips and against your tongue.

With your voice effectively gagged, he started his assault on your ass, delivering sharp smacks before running his hand soothingly over your skin. He made sure to ask if you needed to tap out but each time you shook your head.

After a good ten to twelve blows, your ass was red and raw. Chan made sure to gently rub the sensitive skin, asking if you needed a break or anything. You shook your head again, wanting him to continue.

You felt his fingers fumble with the back of your dress and heard the unzipping of the zipper as he pulled it down. He helped you shimmy out of the material, leaving you in just your panties.

"Fuck," you heard him gasp, hands moving along your skin and up your back. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured. You felt his fingers skim over the lace of your thong, thumbs toying with the waistband briefly before his hands disappeared, making you glance over your shoulder at him.

His hands made quick work of his belt, pulling it from the belt loops of his pants as his eyes were trained on your ass. “Give me your hands,” he ordered, eyes moving up to meet yours. You hesitated, eyeing the belt in his hands and wondering what he was planning on doing with it.

Chan gave your thigh a quick tap with the belt. “Did you hear me, baby?” He asked, cocking his head.

“Hands, now.”

You moved faster than you were able to process his words, offering your hands behind your back. Chan positioned your arms behind your back, elbows bent before he started to wrap the belt around your wrists and forearms, effectively binding you. You couldn’t move much, only squirm under him as you heard the rustle of his pants as well as the zipper.

Chan leaned over, grabbing one of the pillows near the headboard and sat back, one hand reaching under you to lift your hips and stuff the pillow underneath you.

His hands were back on your ass, barely skimming the skin that was still sore as he muttered to himself. “Never imagined I’d be doing this in my old bedroom,” he said with a low chuckle as you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. His hands moved, nails raking down your skin and pulling your panties down until he was able to slip them past your knees and off entirely.

You were now completely exposed to him and entirely at his mercy with your arms bound.

Chan let out a groan, sliding his hands up your thighs until he was able to spread your cheeks, displaying your wet core to him. You heard another growl rumble from deep in his chest. “God,” he breathed out. “Look at how wet you are,” he continued. “Practically dripping.”

You wiggled your hips, one of the only things you could do at this point. Chan chuckled lightly before falling silent. You were about to look back at him but felt him circle his fingers around your entrance, gathering your arousal before he pushed two fingers into your wet cunt.

You moaned against the gag, eyes rolling back at finally getting some friction as he slowly worked his fingers in and out of you at a torturously languid pace. You wiggled your hips again, trying to push back against his hand but Chan removed his fingers, harshly slapping your ass, sending a jolt of pain through your body that was immediately replaced with pleasure as his fingers were back at your slit, rubbing up and down slowly.

“Stop acting like a brat,” he hissed. “You’ll get what you want in time.”

You used your tongue to push the gag out of your mouth. “Chan please,” you whimpered, voice hoarse. You heard him tut lightly, feeling him lean over you, pressing his hard cock against your ass. “Now you want to be a good girl?” He asked, ending his sentence with a scoff.

“I promise I’ll be good,” you continued, feeling your eyes and cheeks burn. “Please Chan,” you begged again. "You made me wait long enough," you added, hoping he would give in. “You gonna be a good little whore for me?” He asked, lips brushing against your ear as he ducked his head. You nodded quickly. “I promise.”

“So eager to please,” he said, smiling against your skin as his lips trailed down to your shoulder. “I suppose I could give you what you want.”

Your stomach bubbled with excitement as he sat back up. You didn’t dare look back as he pushed his pants and underwear down, pulling his cock out finally and giving himself a few strokes before taking your ass in his hands again, spreading your cheeks once more and spitting on your already soaked pussy.

You let out a lewd moan as you felt him line the tip of his cock with your hole and before you could register anything else, he was pushing himself into you, stretching you out so deliciously.

“Oh,” he said, surprisingly calm as if he wasn’t nearly balls deep inside you. “Can’t forget this,” he added, reaching over you and grabbing his tie before holding it to your face. “Chan,” you whimpered, trying to calm yourself as you adjusted to his size.

“I know how loud you get, baby,” he cooed, leaning over your body. “Unless you’d rather everyone, including my parents, know I’m fucking you up here,” he added. You shook your head.

The idea of walking back into the party after having your brains fucked out by the hosts’ son was one thing, but returning to the party when everyone might have heard mortified you.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed Chan to shove the cloth back into your mouth.

“Good girl,” he praised, softly kissing your temple, the action making your heart flutter and your stomach do flips.

And just like that, the sweet and shy Chan you’d grown accustomed to during the day was gone, replaced with his much more confident and dominant side.

The first thrust was shallow, making you gasp, despite the gag in your mouth.

The second and third thrusts were harsh and soon the room was filled with the sound of Chan’s hips meeting your ass, skin hitting skin as he pounded into you, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place.

Your walls clenched around him, sucking him back in each time he pulled out. “Fuck,” he moaned. “I forgot how tight your cunt is,” he continued, voice cracking as he tried to keep up his dom persona.

You whimpered, letting out muffled moans with each hard thrust as you tried to push back to meet him but with your arms bound behind you, there was no way of grounding yourself and you were at the mercy of his grip.

One of his hands moved, grabbing your bound arms and pulling you up, not stopping or slowing the movements of his hips. Your body moved with the force of each ruthless thrust into your drenched pussy.

Even with the gag, you were still able to make plenty of sound for him to hear and each one of your moans had him digging his fingers into your skin a little hard, moving his hips a little faster.

It had been years since he’d had you like this but it felt like no time had passed since scout camp. The way your body reacted to him was almost exactly as it had back then. He knew how you liked it then and it wasn’t any different now.

You liked it rough and he liked to give it rough.

You let out a loud moan, the gag slipping out of your mouth and falling to the bed soaked in your spit. Chan let out a growl, letting your body fall back against the mattress as he stopped, stilling inside you and worked to undo his belt and remove it, releasing your arms.

Despite the harsh and hard way he fucked you, his hands were gentle as he repositioned your arms above your head and grabbed his tie from the bed, ignoring how wet the material was as he tied your wrists together before resuming his assault on your core.

With your hands in this new position, you were able to grab onto the sheets and keep yourself in place.

“You have to keep quiet,” you heard him pant. “You really -ah!- think i can keep quiet when you’re- oh fuck!- when you’re fucking me so hard?” You whimpered, cursing between each stroke.

“You’re going to have to,” he growled, stilling inside you again. “Or I’ll stop right now,” he added.

You peered over your shoulder at him. “When you’re so close to coming?” You questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

“Are you trying to push my buttons, baby?” He asked, thrusting forward with his cock buried deep inside you.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl,” he continued, pulling back slowly only to snap his hips forward.

“I am being a good girl,” you answered. You felt one of his hands reach around to grab your throat. “Good girls don’t talk back, baby,” he cooed, his voice low and sending shivers down your spine.

He squeezed lightly, fingers holding your neck firmly but not harshly.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffed. “Stop acting like a little bitch and take what I give you,” he growled, his hips gaining speed as he fucking you against the mattress.

You let out a gasp, quickly turning into whimpers and mewls as Chan proceeded to fuck you dumb. Your lips parted, no sound coming out as you arched your back, allowing him to reach deeper inside your walls, each drag of his cock having you see stars as your orgasm approached. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” you moaned out. “M’gonna cum,” you whined.

Chan chuckled, his grip on your neck loosening. “You gonna come for me?” He whispered in your ear, making you nod vigorously. “Such a good little slut,” he mumbled. “Gonna cum all over this cock?” You whimpered, nodding again as you felt your orgasm wash over you. “Good girl,” Chan breathed, releasing your throat as he helped you ride your climax out. “You take me so well, you always have,” he continued to praise you as you came down from your high.

“Wait, what about you?” You whined, slowly coming to your senses. “Be a good girl and lay still for me, okay?” He whispered. You nodded as his hand covered your mouth and for good reason.

The next moment, he was pounding into you like his life depended on it, chasing his own high. His hand muffled your cries and screams of pleasure as he abused your cunt, bringing himself closer to his climax.

As your second orgasm rolled over you in waves, Chan let out a moan, hips stilling as he came. You felt his teeth dig into your shoulder as he released inside you, painting your walls white with his hot load. You moaned against his hand as he filled you up, your walls fluttering around him and milking his cock.

As you both came down together, chan released his hold over your mouth and groaned, kissing the spot where his teeth had dug into your skin. “Sorry,” he murmured, more to your skin than to you. You winced as he pulled out of you and sat back, looking down where he could see his cum seeping out of you. “Shit,” he cursed as he pulled his pants and underwear back up. “Let me get something to clean you up with.”

He was gone for a moment before he returned with a clean towel and spread your legs to clean your skin off. You felt two of his fingers gather his cum and push it back into you, causing you to moan into the sheets.

“Let’s get you dressed,” you heard him say softly.

He had your panties back on and your dress zipped back up in no time as you tried your best to salvage what was left of your appearance. “Do I look like I just got my brains fucked out?” You asked, hoping for an honest answer. Chan smiled, reaching up to take your chin in his fingers.

“Yeah but to be fair, you did just get your brains fucked out,” he answered, causing your cheeks to burn as you let out a whine and leaned into him, hiding your face in his neck. Chan let out a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

“You want me to take you home?” He asked softly. “If I say yes, will you stay with me?” You asked quietly, fingers playing with the collar of his white shirt. The silence between you lasted for only a moment before he answered.

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.”

The two of you left his room, making your way back down to the first floor where the party was still in full swing and no one even batted an eye. Chan left you for a moment to get your coats but a moment was all it took for his mother and father to find you.

“You were upstairs for a while,” Mr. Lee said, smiling at you as Chan returned. “We were looking at all his awards,” you lied, looking up at Chan who smiled as he helped you into your coat before fumbling with his. “Your son is quite accomplished,” you added, noticing the way Chan’s cheeks burned and he tried to hide the pleased smile on his face.

Once his coat was on, he turned to his parents, explaining he was going to take you home and spend some more time with you. His mother and father bid you a goodnight, his mother pulling you into a hug and inviting you to come back for their New Years party. You might just take them up on that offer.

As you and Chan made for the door, his mother let out a squeal of delight, causing you to stop in your tracks and turn to look at her. Chan was also looking at his mother like she’d lost her mind. Her attention wasn’t on you however, it was directed to a spot just above your heads.

Looking up you noticed the mistletoe that hung above you. How had you not noticed that the stuff was hanging everywhere? In every doorway, from random places over hallways. Its placement must have been deliberate.

You glanced at Chan who looked from the holiday greenery to you, his expression blank for a moment before he shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, his lips pressing against yours.

You kissed him back, ignoring the way his mother reacted as if you two had just gotten married or something.

When Chan pulled back, he smirked at you. “Shall we?” He asked, nodding towards the door. You nodded in response. “And you’ll stay with me?” You asked, eyes looking between his own.

His smirk softened into a smile as he pressed a short kiss to your lips. “As long as you want me to,” he answered.

“If you want me to, I’ll stay the whole damn night, baby. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #lee chan #lee chan scenarios #lee chan imagines #lee chan fanfic #lee chan angst #lee chan fluff #lee chan smut #lee chan x reader #series: tales from camp holiday special

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Judas in the Window (18+)

pairing: priest(apprentice)!chan x fem!collegestudent!reader

genre: ANGST ANGST and smut (mdni), childhood best friends to..?

description: you return home from college, after not seeing your old town for three years. your childhood best friend has been waiting for you.

warnings: no. genuinely so sad. religious guilt, blasphemy ig, slutshaming, degradation (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), desperation, fingering (f. receiving), humiliation, unprotected sex (do not do this shit), brief breeding kink, mentions of past unhappiness, reader has beef with her old self fr, alcohol consumption, pet names (darling, baby, some more i dont recall), LOTS of biblical references, i warned you this is incredibly sad and wether it's a good ending is certainly debatable, reader has both her parents (if u dont, same, just imagine the dad as adam sandler and the mom as gwendoline christie), the dad is the best character x

quotes from my proofreader: "i have a new pair of panties at the ready", "im horny and angry, some say hangry", "AAAAAA"

wordcount: 8.3k

a/n: it is 2:30 am. my proofreader is asleep and i might go crazy if i dont post this now, so if there are any mistakes in the last part i am sorry, ill fix it later lmao

Your room hasn’t changed a bit.

You’re not sure why the sight knocks the wind out of you. You suppose you’d thought your parents might do something with it - maybe give your dad a “man cave” or whatever other pained, heteronormative solution to hating each other. But it’s the same exact thing. Your bed, horrible orange wood, pink princess sheets, and your desk right beside you where you stand in the doorway, all cluttered with glitter pens and marker sets and a small mirror. 

“Isn’t this great, honey?” your mom squeals, old hands squeezing your shoulders. It takes you a second to reply. You’re not even sure you want to step inside the room. “Yeah, yeah, it’s great, mom.” 

“I’m getting dinner ready, you just settle yourself in!” she says, practically vibrating at your presence. She’s so happy, it jabs at your stomach with guilt, that you can’t even bring yourself to enter. You watch her disappear down the stairs, making a funny face when she catches your eye. You half-smile tiredly. Then you’re looking at it again.

It’s like a totally closed off time capsule. Your fingers play with the doorframe, looking at the stains in the carpet, that you vividly remember creating as a clumsy child. You see the stickers on your closet-door, and the faint outline of the stickers you’d taken down. You see toys, whose names you remember, you see terrible drawings over your bed, hung with glitter tape, and you see yourself. The you that you were certain you’d stuck in the dirt and buried. The one you’d worked over-over-overtime to never see again. She was somehow alive and well in this room. A part of you roamed with a horde of anxiety, birthed by the thought that once you entered, you and her would fuse together, and all the flaws you’d had would be reignited, and you would be miserable again.

“You not going in, champ?” you jump at your father’s voice behind you. You turn to see him exiting your parents’ bedroom, taking heavy, loggy steps towards the staircase. You shake your head: “No, I am, it’s just..” you pause and turn back to the room, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird.” 

Your father pauses. He has his reading glasses pushed all the way down to the tip of his nose, so he leans his head back and squints to study you. “Well- well- well, why don’t you just try out for a bit, champ, and if you don’t like it, Uh, well, we’ll situate you on the couch. How’s- how’s that sound?” 

You smile softly. “Sure.” 

“Alright, champ,” he pats your back and finally starts his descent down the stairs. 

You nod to yourself and exhale deeply, face now turned back to the super menacing not-at-all-menacing room before you. Your fears are deeply irrational. You wouldn’t just revert back to your old self. Once you’re half believing it, you finally break the barrier, and take a step inside. 

It’s not so bad after all. Everything is very still. Dust kicked up from your presence slows down around you. You’re standing under the overhead lamp, and it’s not that bad. Not so bad. You drop your duffel bag and sit down on your bed. 

You feel a lot bigger, sitting with bent knees in the plush duvet. You recognize that you can’t be that much bigger than when you last sat here, 18 years old, heading off to college in the big city. And this was the kind of town where neighbors a dozen houses over came to see you off, waving at you with big smiles on their faces, an american flag hoisted up to the blue sky. You remember the grins stretched on their faces, and how you’d been panicked to start the ignition on the car. They’d looked like they were made of wax.

Movement flashes in your peripheral. You turn your head, brushing hair out of the way. The movement is coming from the crack in the curtains. Like Moses parting the red sea, your fingers delicately brush the flimsy fabrics away. You know exactly what - who - you’re about to see. Your heart presses, red and wet, into your throat. 

Chan.

He’s there in the window directly across from yours. You almost don’t recognize him at first. He’s shirtless, pacing around and picking things off the floor, and, God, he’d gotten so big. His arms are so shapely and firm and his stomach is toned and when he turns his back to you, you see how it ripples with muscle, and your mouth is drooping open in shock. 

This is Chan, you try to remember (memories flit of him in his dad’s baseball caps, him on the playground, or on the sandy paths that fade out from the roads on the outskirts of town), but grounding yourself in the memories of him as a kid only serves to hurt you. No, you decide, eyeing his naked torso through the glass, better remember him like this. Like an adult who has faults and wrongs, not an innocent child that you abandon in your haste to grow up. 

He’s looking at you. Suddenly, he’s fucking looking at you. For a moment it seems like he’s confused, maybe fighting with the danger of recognizing you as a real, actual person in the window. Then his eyes are softened and he’s hunched over the paneled window, face split in half as he stares back at you. He used to fit so easily in the frame of that window - now you watch his shoulders press against the framework, unable to squeeze in. 

Your cheeks are burning when you squeeze your eyes shut and smile apologetically. Your childhood best friend who you hadn’t seen in three years had just caught you staring at his fucking abs through his window. You fear he’ll take offense, especially considering how you’d left things off with him, but when you open your eyes, he’s grinning softly and shaking his head. 

He walks away from the small window, and you take this as your cue to leave as well. You fall back on the bed and groan pathetically, body jittery with embarrassment. 

“Y/n, sweetheart! Dinner now!” your mom caws from the floor beneath you and you feel 16 again. This was what you didn’t want. All the power you had accumulated was slipping through your fingers by the minute. 

It’s just five days, you remind yourself. Just five, measly days.

“Coming, mom!”  _____________________________

The fucking bell tower is going. Over and over again and it shouldn’t be this loud, you’re not that close to the church, but it is. 

You lie flat on your back in the smoldering dark, completely still. It’s so loud it feels like it’s coming from inside your head. Like the curved, rusted sides of it are bashing against your skull. You don’t understand how anyone could sleep through this. You don’t understand how Chan could stay here all these years. Maybe that’s just because you couldn’t see yourself here.

You don’t want to think about Chan anymore, but for whatever reason - you can’t decide if it was seeing him (so manly) so suddenly, or if it’s the ever-ringing bell in the distance, like a marker of the apocalypse - he won’t leave your mind tonight. Part of you understood that what had happened with you and Chan was natural, and not particularly anyone’s fault. So why did you still carry the heavy burden of guilt? Guilt that pinched at your nerve endings like the delicate tunes in a children’s music box.

You and Chan had met as children in church. It didn’t take long for you to be best friends. You’d sit next to each other on the neatly lined benches during sermon, then you’d tumble in the grass outside, and then you’d go to his house and play until dinner, after which you’d see each other again, talking from window to window. You spent very nearly every moment with him.

Then you grew apart.

It was a slow death. Seeing each other became a sort of horrific reminder that it was ending, no longer bound by church or friendship, but a mutual understanding. There’d be a sort of solemn silence whenever you locked eyes. Is this the last time? You’d wonder, and the longer it went on, the more you started to wish that it was.

And then it was. 

It was your fault. You were 13 and suddenly you were wearing makeup and your dresses were getting shorter, and you wished you were much older than you were. You started forgetting the principles they’d taught you in church. Or maybe you’d never really learnt it, only tolerated it for Chan. But years passed and by the time you were sixteen, you were being kissed and groped at parties and you were having sex in cars and smearing your lipstick on the rims of shot glasses. 

And Chan was.. Well, Chan. Chan was a skinny, virgin christian. And you liked him, but suddenly there wasn’t much to talk about. From one day to the next, all discussable topics evaporated in your hand, and talking to Chan became a stumbling, bumbling mess. 

After that you were just…. Gone. 18 years old disappearing down the dirt roads in the 2009 Toyota Tacoma, that you’d gotten for your sweet sixteen. Chan was standing on the roadside that day, but he wasn’t sure you saw him. Your wheels kicked up dust and that was all you left behind. A cloud of sand for him to grab at, looking lost in between your tire tracks. At that moment it felt like those last years were two seconds. You just slipped right out of his hands. 

Lying in bed and your heart is so heavy. Maybe it isn’t Chan, you conclude. Maybe it’s what he represented. The face of the church; the face of goodness, of purity; the face of the life you deselected. 

The cry of the bell tower becomes a song in the night. You fall asleep in the devil’s hour. _____________________________

The following day you’re reexploring. The air is dry and the sun beating down on your shoulders. You’re walking through the suburbs and then later the small town square made up of mostly parking lots. You feel peregrine, but trudging through on the pavement, it becomes clear you’re the only one who feels this way. 

Every citizen, every single one of them - in polos, in flower-print dresses, in sandals, in sunglasses - stops you to welcome you back home. They’re shaking your shoulders and they recognize you and can tell you your name and your age, and they say that it’s good you found your way back. Every interaction leaves you more depressed than the last. You’re ducking your head, crumpled up like an unsent love letter. 

Your steps are heavy, your own sandals dragging into the uneven tiles of the square. Then you’re lifting your head from the ground, and your feet have betrayed you. 

You’re standing in the opening to another street of storefronts, and 5 rows of neatly planted trees down, the church sprouts from the earth like a stake. 

It’s not just any small town church. A few steps lead up to a plateau, supported by large, white beams. They may not be Roman, but they’re there, and they’re made of smooth concrete. The building itself is made of red brick, although the color varies and looks dappled. Each side of the church has two stained glass windows, which you remember from your childhood. The door, huge and oaken, ends in a point right beneath a round window, and the bell tower shoots up, a mighty cross at its peak. 

You’re left a little breathless at it. You don’t remember it being so menacing. But there’s also something beautiful about it. How it looks at you like it’ll kill you. And how blunt it is about it. You’re blinking at it and wondering how you got here. It’s as if something’s possessed you, because despite knowing better, you begin to take calm steps towards it, eyes transfixed and soulless. 

You’re walking into the courtyard, gravel underfoot, and then you’re traversing up the steps, fingers barely brushing over the railing. Idling forward, you’re opening the door. 

“And when Mary birthed the-” 

Crrrrreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak!

Every head snaps towards you, as you’re cracking the door open, and the trance lifts from you. Oh, shit. Your gaze grazes over the stacked benches, smiling apologetically and bopping your head.

You clear your throat. “I’m-” 

You lock eyes with the priest, whose service you just interrupted, where he’s standing before the crowd, bible in hand.

It’s Chan. 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, voice now much meeker, and you don’t even know what to do, so you just step inside and sit down on the nearest bench. Slowly (and with low scoffs) the sea of heads turn around. One pair of eyes don’t leave you though. Chan studies you for several seconds longer, searching for something in your eyes, but you’re looking away. You just want him to continue. He does.

This is crazy, you think, and you can hardly believe you’re hearing his voice say those words, and it’s him in the clerical shirt. You supposed it made sense. You supposed you understood. But actually you didn’t, not at all. Not when he was supposed to live and change and evolve and here he is years later, dedicating his life to the one and only thing he knows! 

You’re tuning out the rest of his talk, vaguely aware of how his eyes flit over to you a little too frequently. Soon enough you’re absently clasping your hands together in a prayer and then people are lining up to thank Chan for his stellar service. 

You watch them from your seat, debating whether or not to leave without talking to him. Leaving wasn’t a bad idea. You were only gonna be in town for a week more, surely, you could avoid him until then. 

But you know you won’t do that. You want to talk to Chan. You want to feel his hand in your own. Partially you felt like maybe you could save him from just being a decoration to this hellscape for the rest of his life. You’re not sure you could go on living your life, when you know he’s just back here - still here. 

So there you are, planted in the line and hoping to save him from some dull future, and he’s shaking hands and smiling, but you can see how he eyes you, coming up on the line. 

“Thank you, Chan,” you smile warmly, and his hand is grabbing yours and it’s so soft and so big. He’s smiling too. Then you’re coughing and correcting yourself: “Uh- Father. Chan.” 

He laughs at your sputtering, clapping your hand between his two: “Oh, thank you, sister.” Emphasizing with pursed lips and wide eyes. You laugh along a little, but it’s strained. 

His smile fades slowly, and his face relaxes. He wants to say more. His fingers are still pulling your hand to his, and you just keep shaking it, because if you stop, it’ll be weird. Officially. 

“Oh, do you two know each other?” A bobbed woman from behind you in line is purring, unfamiliar hand on your back, and she doesn’t wait for you to answer before she’s talking again: “So, how do you know each other?” 

“Childhood. Friends,” Chan stammers, almost looking at you for confirmation, and you’re nodding along when the woman “ah’s” and “ooh’s”. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you guys!” And then you’re listening to her talk about some trailer down in Cassandra, and how her brother is fixing it up with his old friend, but there’s water damage in the lining of the room, and it’ll mold if they’re not careful, and it’s such useless information, you’re wondering how you’ll ever forget it. 

“Mrs. Lark, uh, I think my,” he looks at you, lips pursed, “my friend here needs to go, so..” 

Mrs. Lark gasps, embarrassed: “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m babbling,” and usually Chan would reassure her that she wasn’t, but he has more urgent matters on his hands. “Good day, Mrs. Lark!” he says and sends her off with a bright smile. There’s a few more people in line and Chan sighs a little. 

“Can you-” he’s a little sheepish, suddenly self conscious about the clergy shirt that grips his neck, “Can you wait? Here? Just until I’m done-” 

“Yeah,” you say. He smiles gratefully. 

Chatter continues behind you with a slight echo in the large room. You wait by one of the stained glass windows, arms around yourself as you stare up at it. Each and every window was a different biblical figure, made up of small shards of colored glass. You always found it strange, looking back, how your small town church had this grand artwork. The eyes of the window peer down at you.

“Judas,” Chan comments, planting himself beside you. His voice echoes slightly in the now empty church. The whole place is both too big and too small for the both of you. “It’s an interesting choice.” 

“What?” 

“Why you chose this window over any other,” Chan breathes, eyes darting down to you, and he’s looking at you very intensely. Then, it dissipates: “I’m also drawn to this one.” 

A pause.

“I wonder why they’d make this,” you quip, feeling small beside him. “I think whoever made this wanted all sides of Jesus’ story illustrated,” Chan says. You shrug. “If it were me, I wouldn’t.” 

Chan tilts his head to the side and looks at you again. Your cheeks burn, so you smile a little cheekily. “Was that not the right thing to say?” 

Chan’s smile is gentle and bemused - almost adoring. “There’s nothing you can say in here that is wrong.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” you laugh and Chan follows along. “Oh, you don’t?” You’re both laughing together, glee filling the crevices of the holy place, while Judas eyes you from the window. Your laughter dies down again, and when the silence returns, your heart clenches nervously. There’s a beat. 

“You keep busy?” you ask and the two of you are now facing each other. He sighs and nods, looking around. “Yeah, yeah, I got a.. Like a church get-together thing in, like, two days. I’ll be.. Preaching."

“Preaching,” you repeat, smile a little too tight. You wish you could say he didn’t notice. “Big Mr. Priest..” 

He laughs: “Technically I’m a priest apprentice,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. You roll your eyes. “So humble.” 

“What about you? Keep busy?” 

“Yeah, college,” you sigh. “You done?” he asks and you shake your head. “I wish.” 

His expression softens until he’s frowning. You want to squirm under his gaze, only because he looks so sincere and worried and you haven’t seen each other in three years. “You look tired.” 

“That’s not-” you begin, covering the slight ache in your heart with a laugh, “I just- Couldn’t sleep last night.”

“I thought living in the big city had you sleeping like a rock when you got to our quiet town,” he teases with a half-smile.

You shake your head, looking upwards at the ceiling. “It was that bell tower, just ringing, all night.” You shrug. Chan’s brows furrow and he looks up as well, as if he’d be able to see it through the tile roof. 

“The…” he trails off, sounding lost, “The bell tower doesn’t ring at nig-” 

Beep! Beep!

“Shit- sorry!” you curse, when your phone goes off loudly. Chan stands still studying you, while you squint at your phone. “I think- I think I gotta go.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he coughs, index finger rubbing over his taut knuckles. You’re pushing your phone into your back pocket again, when he reaches an arm out to you. “Uh-” he pulls back self-consciously, “Would you want to-.. Maybe, come to dinner at my place? Tomorrow?” 

You’re a little taken aback, looking at him with a softly open mouth for a moment. “Uh,” you fight back a wide smile, “Yeah, sure. I’d- I’d like that.” 

“Great,” Chan smiles too and nods. “Just- just at the house right next door, or?-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s that one. Still,” Chan blushes breathlessly. You chuckle awkwardly. “Okay.” 

“Okay. See you then.”  _____________________________

You’re not sure why the prospect of having dinner with Chan has you so nervous. And it is just a dinner, you remind yourself, as you’re picking out your dress, just two friends catching up. After some 45 minute debate you pick out a pretty sundress.

You’d like to think there’s more to it than just the fact that Chan is suddenly very pretty and muscular. Maybe it’s the chance to make a wrong right. Maybe it’s to find out who this boy is, that was a key part of your life for so many years. Maybe you think you can change him.

Either way you’re just waiting for it all day, ignoring your dad trying to lure you out with trick shots from your garage. “HIYA!” he screams, throwing ping pong balls at your window all afternoon.

At 6:30 PM you’re standing at his door and hoping you don’t look too dolled up. His house also looks mostly identical to your memory of it. There’s something off about it though, and you study it momentarily, only to realize the front garden has overgrown. The grass comes up jagged and sharp, and the bushes bulge over the fence gate, brushing you when you waddle inside. You click the doorbell, wait a few seconds, and then begin to suspect that it didn’t work. Then you knock and you hear him fumbling around inside: “Coming!” 

He opens the door (with some struggle), and then you’re standing before each other. He’s so domestic, in a striped, brown sweater and dark blue jeans, and curly hair is framing his face like a crown. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

He gives you a once over, smiling shyly: “You look great.” 

“Thank you,” you bow a little, “you too.” 

Then he’s letting you inside and you’re kicking off your shoes haphazardly, while he fusses back to the kitchen. “I made bolognese, if you don’t mind!” he calls and when you enter into the living space, he’s stirring a pan vigorously. You giggle a little, smile falling at the sight of a cross on the wall behind you. “Uh, yeah, of course.” 

Slurping tomato-sauced pasta and drinking a half-expensive wine that Chan had bought, you two laugh together. You mostly talk about when you were kids, then he’s talking about joining the church and you’re talking about college. 

“Is it hard? Out there?” Chan slurs a little, both of you tipsy and warm from the wine, having moved to the couch after eating. Now, full and face burning hot, you’re looking at each other differently. Chan’s got one arm on the couch rest, the other swirling the wine in his glass. He’s smirking a little and you hate how hot he is.

“It’s.. Exciting,” you counter, a little confused at his tone. He's close enough to radiate warmth onto you, when his eyes dip down to your lips for a second. “Yeah. You like exciting,” he drinks down the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the couch table. The moon, that’s been slowly traversing the star-speckled sky, gives the glass a faint halo. Chan basks in the moonlight, half lit and half shadowed. 

“I do. I do like exciting,” you giggle dumbly, still unsure where he’s steering the conversation. Chan smiles adoringly, because there you are sitting all blushing and warm in a sundress on his couch. The warmth disappears from his eyes then. 

“Was it exciting to watch me undress?” 

Oh.

Shit. 

You almost spit out a half-drunken sip of wine, gulping it down painfully and shaking your head. You set the glass down. “Chan! I’m-” you’re scrambling, “I’m really, really sorry. I- I was just- It wasn’t about your body, I was thinking about-” 

“Shut up.” 

Your mouth falls agape at his tone, offended and caught off guard. He’s still beside you, eyes much sharper than you remember, much colder. “Stop treating me like I’m still a kid.” 

“Well, you haven’t changed much, Chan,” you scoff. 

“Yeah, that’s why you were looking at me through your fucking window,” he scoffs as well, “because I haven’t changed.” 

You sit in quiet disbelief, trying to stay mad when his face is so pretty and so close to yours, and his jaw is clenched and his cheeks are flushed from the wine. You’re deciding whether to spit back or diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry.” 

The hand that was previously holding his glass lands on your knee. He leans in even further and you smell the sour air of wine on his breath. You shudder under his touch when he whispers: “I want you to be honest with me.” 

You’re looking up at him with wide eyes, heart beating in your chest like nails being knocked into wood. “Tell me what you want from Father Chan,” he muses, smirking slightly, while his thumb brushes back and forth on your knee. 

You’re completely out of breath and squeezing your thighs together, as slick begins to build up in your panties. “Come on,” he encourages, “Let it out. Tell Channie what you want.” 

“I want,” you’re shaking in humiliation, gaze cast onto the floor, “I want you to touch me.” 

“Come again?” he teases, grinning.

“Please touch me, Chan.” 

“There you go,” he mutters and finally gives in, hand brushing the skirt of your dress up your thighs, until your white, cotton panties are visible to him. The sight of you is so pornographic, he groans and dips his head into your neck. “Spread your legs for me, baby.” 

And you do, one of them drooping over his legs, while the other bends on the couch beside you. You’re already so worked up, because Chan is so beautiful and you never, ever thought you’d experience him like this. “Shh, shh, calm down, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple, as his fingers brush over your clothed core.

“Baby,” he tuts disapprovingly, “you’ve soaked through your panties.” 

You can only whine as his fingertips ghost along your dripping slit, and he’s nosing into your cheek like a big puppy. “‘M sorry,” you hiccup, and he grins and kisses your lips tenderly. “So polite for me.” 

He finally dips his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing circles into your pussy. You’re mewling and thrashing into his chest, basking in the sound of his strangled moan, when you thrash the leg in his lap and brush over his hard cock. 

His fingers move lower to dance along your slit and you grab his wrist strenuously. He hums a little. “Gonna put my fingers in your pussy and my tongue in your mouth now,” he’s mumbling and you can’t tell if he’s telling you or himself, but either way he does as promised, two fingers plunging into your sopping wet heat, while he dips his tongue in your hot mouth.

You're moaning into his lips. He’s kissing you so sloppily, spit spilling down both of your chins, and noses rubbing together, breathing scorching air into each other. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, then curling into that sweet spongy spot inside you. 

“Fuck!” you cry when he pulls away breathlessly, “so, so, so good. Chan- Chan, fuck!”

Your orgasm is building up in your stomach, with a pleasure that is simultaneously torturous. He’s looking at you so intensely, you feel like you might unravel under his gaze. “Fuck, Channie.”

“Yeah? You feel good?” he pauses his words, still curling his fingers in and out of you. His next words are somewhat uneasy: “Is this better than those other guys?” 

“Huh?” you mumble, chest arching and his mouth is watering at how inviting it is. “Back then,” he says, and it finally clicks what he’s talking about. 

“Pussy so good no wonder they all wanted a piece of you, hm? Such a slut,” he’s rambling now, fingers plunging in and out of you impossibly fast, while his other hand splays over your stomach, thumb tapping your clit. You cry out in ecstasy, unable to form coherent words to respond with.

“But you’re my slut, right?” His voice is raspy and right next to your ear. The thumb tapping your clit begins to rub circles into it. “Y/n,” he’s suddenly very serious, “say you’re my slut.” 

“I’m-” your voice crack in humiliation, cheeks fiery and eyes squeezed shut, “I’m your slut!” 

“That’s right,” he pants, trying to stop his hips from bucking into your calf. “And my slut is gonna cum on my fucking fingers right now.” 

Your orgasm feels otherworldly - maybe godly - and your whole body shakes in his hold, chest bouncing in his face and moans melodic in his living room. Chan works you through it, finally pulling his fingers out when your hands weakly push at his own.

You’re sighing heavily with hair messy and teased, slumped back on his couch. “Holy shit,” you say, grinning from ear to ear, completely dazed. Chan is watching you with a proud smirk and a tent the size of Texas in his pants. 

A thought strikes you then, and your grin is fading and your brows are furrowing. “Wait- Wait, Chan? Where are your parents?” you ask suddenly, sitting up and straight and pulling your dress down hastily. You snap your head around self-consciously. 

“Relax! Relax!” he laughs, “They don’t live here anymore, I bought the house from them, like, six months ago.” 

Your jaw drops. You wait just a second, hoping to catch a cheeky glint in his eyes, that might tell you he’s joking. You find nothing but blackness.

“You bought the house?” 

Chan looks at you quizzically, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, they wanted to move, you know, see new things and I.. I just. Didn’t.” 

You can hardly fucking believe your ears.

“Chan!” you cry, frustration blooming in your chest and pounding in your head. “Why did you buy the fucking house? You’re gonna spend the rest of your life paying off the fucking mortgage, and you’re never gonna get out of here!” you shout, flailing your arms at his absurdity.

Chan narrows his eyes at you. “Sorry, city girl, we don’t all wanna pack up and live in a closet space for three years-” 

“Wha- Chan, this is not about me! How can you just.. Surrender to this place?” you shout and suddenly he’s raising his voice too. “Surrender?” he repeats, spitting it back at you.

“Yeah! Jesus, even your fucking parents wanted to leave, Chan. But you’re just- You’re gonna live out the rest of your life in this shithole and be some sort of- of priest?!” 

“I can’t believe you right now,” he stands up from the couch, and you follow suit. “In what world do you have the morality to come in here and tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you scoff, crossing your arms. 

Your voices are echoing in the empty house, wine glasses and sauced plates standing idly on the tables nearby. Your silhouettes are confined to the large living room window, standing on either side of the moon. 

“You know what that means, Y/n,” he laughs bitterly. “No, please, tell me,” you invite him challengingly, wondering (or perhaps fearing) whether or not he’d actually go there. He prods at his cheek with his tongue, and hesitates.

“You were a fucking slut, Y/n.” His voice is quieter, maybe ashamed. Tears sting at your eyes, when you look at him incredulously. How could you think you knew this man? How could you think there was anything left to salvage? 

“Fuck you, Chan,” you spit, spinning around before the tears can fall. He says nothing, just stands alone in his living room while you dash out his door, hands wrapping around himself. 

Exiting his house into the cool, summer air, you realize one thing. The bell tower had been the call of the apocalypse.  _____________________________

You were the walls of Jericho that night, crying and tumbling in your childhood sheets, muffling your cries in the fear that he’d hear through his creaked open window. What was this pain, you couldn’t decide. Was it how he stayed steadfast or how you metamorphosed, dying only to return once again? 

In the morning, you’re dull and gray. You’re drinking coffee out of your dad’s old tourist shop mug from a visit to Niagara Falls, sitting at the dining table with puffy eyes. Your mom eyes you worriedly from the counter, leaning into your dad to whisper not-so-discreetly. 

“Sweetheart, you wanna go with us to church today? They’re having this whole event, the kids’ choir will be there!” she suggests gently and you just want to shrug off all her affection. 

“No,” you deadpan. Your mom gives your father a look. He sighs. 

“Alright, champ, that’s- that’s your choice,” he nods, mustache scrunching up when he pouts. You sigh, feeling like an asshole. “Sorry, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, you just rest!” your mom shushes you, scrambling around the kitchen, ever in the hunt for some lost appliance. “All that college must wear you out, you should rest while you can, hm?” 

They’re gone by noon. You sit in the shadowed corner of your bed, avoiding the strip of light that dances across your room from the crack in the curtain. 

You’re bored, scrolling on your phone, cheek puffed up against your pillow, when it slips out of your hands and hits the floor with a loud bump. You groan, feeling like the whole world is against you today, and throw your arm off the bed to grab at it on the floor. 

It’s halfway under the bed, and when your fingers finally remark the smooth surface, they brush against something else. It’s hard and it feels dirty. You lift your head to look and tug it out.

It’s your diary. 

Phone long forgotten, you lift it carefully, like an old relic, and push open the faded pink cover. You feel like you’re about to snap in half, when your eyes survey the graphite-smudged pages of your horrible, horrible handwriting. The pages emanate a mysterious air that has you leaning back in your seat.

You’re skimming through angst entries, that has you cringing and wanting to put it down, before you freeze suddenly, inhaling sharply at the scribbled out words before you.

‘3. august 2016

God, I miss Chan.’

The words come with the promise of stinging tears in your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you whisper angrily at the page, because you’re crying again, and you close the book and hold onto yourself so tightly that it hurts. “Fuck that. Fuck this.” 

It’s perhaps the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. It’s anger, it’s sadness, it’s humiliation, it’s confusion. How did it end like this, you think. It would be so much easier if you were kids again. If he was that dorky kid from your church, who wore his father’s baseball caps and had chubby little hands when he prayed. You can do it better, you think miserably, if you get another chance. But you don’t. 

For about fifteen minutes, you curl into yourself and wait for the feeling to go away. It doesn’t. The heavy weight of realization pools in your stomach when you realize you might carry this with you for the rest of your life if you don’t do something. It doesn’t have to end like this.

Suddenly you’re light as a feather, grabbing your jacket and your keys and sprinting out the door and down the street. The cross atop the spire watches you run to it, awaiting you ominously.  _____________________________

You’re disheveled and pulled apart when you arrive at the gathering, and for once the townspeople look at you like you’re out of place. You’re late, you know, because people are taking their leave, scattering and dissolving towards the town square, and the entertainment (the kids’ choir), all robed in white, are marching away together. 

You’re panting, stumbling further into the church garden, jumping at the sound of grills being closed and rolled away onto the pavement. 

“Y/n?” Chan can hardly believe his eyes, when he sees you standing between a bed of lilies. You turn around and see him, melting a little at how tired and sad he looks. “I can’t believe you came,” he whispers, a little sparkle of hope in his gaze. You smile fondly, “Me neither.” 

Chan moves to embrace you, but freezes when he suddenly remembers where you are. “Uh, I can’t, I have to-” he stammers, scrambling for a solution, for something better than turning you away, when you’re here, close enough for him to hold. He looks around, gaze following the churchgoers as they pass through the gates, before he’s bopping his head down to whisper to you again: “Go into the church. I’ll be with you in a second.” 

You walk through that heavy, wooden door, and when it closes behind you the scrambling of metal and people and footsteps and crying children is gone. With the door, you’re sealed in here, with whatever fate follows.

All the light in the church is filtering through the stained glass windows, and once again you find yourself drawn to him. Judas. 

Part of you would expect such an artwork to depict Judas as greedy and grim, as glutinous and gloomy; that he would be hunched over with a pouch of shillings, giggling at his evildoing. But the Judas in the window is so.. Sad. 

He’s blue and gray and his eyebrows are upturned and for the life of you, you can’t figure out how the unknown artist must have managed to portray such despair in glass. You stand in the middle of his reflection on the floor, all blue and gray yourself, and you’re not sure it’s really because of the light.

That’s all the church inhabits at that moment. You and Judas, and your shallow breaths, and the stirring of dust in the air. There’s nothing holy in there with you. Just you and him.

You hear the door open to your right. You know it’s Chan, somehow you can just feel it. He must sense something in the air, because he says nothing, just walks up to stand beside you, and only then do you speak again.

“I always felt a bit like Judas,” you muster a breath.

Chan pauses and you can feel him looking at you. “Me too.” 

You furrow your brows, and finally look up at him, and there he is in his clerical shirt and his matching pants, his right cheek glowing bright blue. The whole room is so heavy, you lean against the bench behind you. 

“That’s not.. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Chan doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He understands. “God made it that way,” he’s nodding with a pained expression on his face, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. You laugh a little and hate how much love you feel, when Chan half-smiles at the sound.

“God.. Yeah,” you half-gesture to the sky and Chan giggles. Then you’re both quieting down again. “I can’t tell if it was you or God I turned my back on,” you say and you’re looking at Judas again, and how one, jagged hand holds onto his chest.

“Maybe it was both,” Chan says and there’s this unreadable expression on his face. You’re laughing again, cheeks apple-round. “I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemous to compare yourself to God.” 

“Yeah?” he laughs, “I think so too.” You’re looking at him again when he’s gulping hard and the joy drains from his face. A small frown curve his lips. “I’m sorry about yesterday, you know.” You look away.

“Me too,” you say. Chan can’t help the way his heart leaps when, without sparing him a glance, you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it. He squeezes back.

He gasps painfully and when you turn to him again, he’s choking back tears, face turning red. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I just wish… Fuck, I mean, we’re too different, aren’t we?” 

You nod. “We are.” 

“When are you leaving?” 

You smile disingenuously, hoping it’ll cheer him up. It doesn’t.

“Tomorrow.” 

Chan is crying, there’s no denying it now, no chalking it up to sniffles. Tears, turning yellow from the sun behind Judas’ back, trail down his cheeks and he wipes them aggressively, but they just keep coming. Deep, despaired moans bounce off the ceiling and walls of the church.

“Can I-?” Chan begins, unable to form words between his heart-rattling sobs. “I just- I need to-” 

“Yes,” you say, and there’s not a single doubt in your mind, that this is what you both want, as you take a step forward and pull his lips into yours. 

Chan’s lips taste like every color of Judas, of blue, of yellow, of gray, of green. Salt hits your tongue when his tears trail down to where you’re connected, and he’s still crying into the kiss, hands finding your waist and clutching so, so hard. 

“Please don’t cry,” you whisper in between kisses, “you’re gonna make me cry.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t stop. He’s too caught up in memorizing the way your body feels under his hands, the way you’re moving against him, the way you’re pulling him by the collar of his clerical shirt, and how your nose feels shoved into his. 

His warm hands slide your shirt upwards, burning against your newly exposed skin. You pull away only to tug it over your head. Chan whimpers when he sees your chest, cupped by your bra and he pulls you into his chest to unhook the back, head looming over your shoulder. Ear pressed to his neck, you can feel the way it contracts, when he hiccups. 

As soon as he’s done, straps sliding gently down your arms, you’re pouncing on each other again, lips meeting rhythmically in the blued sunlight. Blindly, you’re unbuttoning his clerical shirt, fingers shaking against his chest. His hands clasp over yours soothingly, urging you to slow down. 

The whole ordeal is strangely silent, even Chan has stopped crying now, and the only sounds filling the church are the brush of fabric and your muffled moans into each other’s mouths. You’re whining though, when his shirt finally pushes off his shoulders and his torso is right in front of you and under your hands. 

You whimper at the sight alone, running your hands over his arms and over his chest down to his abs. Chan smirks at you. “I knew you liked it,” he mumbles to himself, almost childishly. 

This comment slows you down, as you’re pulling back to laugh, and you’re both shirtless in front of each other, hearts huge and glowing. Chan smiles at you adoringly while you laugh, face scrunched up and eyes crescents. 

“You can’t say that when I’m trying to fuck you,” you say finally, hair a mess on your head and lips pursed to keep yourself from laughing again. Chan loves your dumb face. He takes your hands in his and rubs the palms with his thumbs. “I know.” 

“Can I-?”

“Yes,” you whisper, agreeing before he can even get it out. Chan nods and holds you, gently guiding you onto the floor, where your entire body is marbled by the light hitting the glass. Chan stands over you for a moment. 

“You’re just gonna stare at me?” you joke, but your arms are sneaking their way up your torso. “Yeah,” Chan responds, but he’s already kneeling down in front of you, moving your arms away. 

“You are so beautiful,” he says it as if it almost pains him, but he’s straddling you and fumbling with your jean-buttons, beginning the tedious task of peeling them off your legs. You want to say something snarky, but he has you breathless and blushing, all you can muster is a meek: “Thank you.” 

He looks up from his work on your jeans at that, smiling at you fondly. 

You kick your jeans off your legs, while he begins to undo the buckle of his own pants, shoving them down his legs at the first opportunity. You’re both almost naked, you in your panties and him in his boxers, and you’re wondering why he’s showing no signs of moving them off you, dick hard and scorching fucking hot against your clothed core. Then he plants his arms on either side of your head, and rolls his hips into yours.

The moan you let out is coming from deep in your fucking soul. Only something godly could pull that out, you decide, sopping fucking wet from the star-like heat it has against you. “You sound so pretty,” he whimpers and does it again. Then again and again and again, and you’re arching your back and the both of you are moaning and groaning, filling the church with humidity. 

“Chan,” you muster, sounding on the verge of tears. His head is lowered onto your breasts, panting hard into the impossibly soft skin. “I-Inside. Now.” 

Chan wants to say something sexy, but he’s so desperate for you, that all he can manage is: “I agree.” 

He’s scrambling wildly to tear his boxers off and you do the same, lifting your hips to remove your drenched panties from your core. When you’re left bare, he lets out a choked moan, because immediately your hole clenching and gushing slick onto the tiled floor. The church floor, no less. 

“So fucking beautiful, and mine. Belongs to me,” he babbles, eyes wounded, but fingers spreading your folds open, as he lowers his head to remark on them. You mewl, fingers clawing at his shoulders. “Miss you,” you squall and he looks up at your face again. “Okay,” he responds, body moving back up to your face. Then he mutters against your lips: “Miss you too.” 

He’s kissing you again, so warm and wet in your mouth and humming into you. You claw at his back and whine wildly, when his hand steers his dick through your folds, lubricating itself in your plentiful wetness. 

He pulls away and you chase after him with sorrowful eyes. “I need to see your face when I push in,” he explains very sincerely, and you somehow understand that, yes, he needs to see it. You nod.

Then he’s pushing into you. He bursts through your gates, all thick and veiny and totally raw against the walls of your pussy. He’s slow, studying your face tenderly for any signs of discomfort, even when he grimaces from the euphoric feeling. And God, your face is so perfect, all scrunched up and twisted in pleasure, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. He will remember it forever.

He’s rocking in and out of you, and it’s slow, and it’s love, and it’s mature, and you’re moaning simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, as he fucks you into the floor. 

“Are you close, darling?” he pants against your cheek and you nod, because you are. Because it feels like your body has been working its way up to this final point, and every other milestone has just been a hillpeak on the way to a mountain. “Yes, yes, yes, I am.” 

“Good, so good for me,” he’s speeding up just a little bit, working the two of you closer and gaining leverage from his bruising grip on your hips. Your hand slides up his neck, from where he’s nuzzled into the side of your nose, and you whisper breathlessly in his ear: “Please cum inside, please, please.” 

And Chan’s head spins at that, thrusting so hard you’re entire body jerks. You, all filled with his kids, all soft and big stomached. The thought has his thrusts - now quite swift - becoming sloppy and has him spurting cum. You come at the feeling of him spurting inside you, spluttering you full of white seed, so much that it’s spilling out at the base of his cock. 

You’re both stilling, bodies expanding eagerly for air, and he’s still so close to you, still inside you, still buried in your hair, nose huffing breaths into your ear. The church is so painfully quiet, you begin to hear your own heartbeat. This was it. This was the narrow end. There was no other way. 

Lying your head on the tile and tilting it, so your eyes dance over the floor beneath you, you realize that Judas is no longer the artwork, no longer the masterpiece: It’s you and Chan on the floor, arching into each other and bathed in his light. To an unknowing outsider, the expressions you carry would also seem misplaced, just like Judas had to you. But you both know, still clinging onto each other like angels that flutter from the sky and into hell, that it was because of the end you had ensured for each other.

“I love you.” 

Chan whispers the words into your neck, voice thick. You realize he’s crying again, because you feel burning hot tears dribble down your neck, and his shoulders are shaking. You curl your arms around him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I love you too.” 

#svt smut #svt x reader #svt chan x reader #svt dino x reader #svt chan smut #svt dino smut #svt angst #svt chan angst #chan x reader #chan angst #lee chan x reader #lee chan smut #lee chan angst

[shuastruck]

SIMP NOTES

twelve. 09 !!! stream guilty

previous || masterlist || next

PAIRING || lee chan x female reader

GENRES || fluff, strangers to lovers, college au, humour, love triangle, angst

SUMMARY || lee chan, college's critically acclaimed and certified (read: self-proclaimed) cupid was a hundred percent sure that his guide to love manual aka the simp notes worked just perfectly fine, seeing the number of campus couples he had managed to get together. until you came up with your complex romantic problem and chan finds his trustworthy notes betraying him, especially when he begins to fall for you.

or, in which, chan never thought he would be following his own simp notes to win over you.

WARNINGS || swearing...if bitchless is counted as swearing

A/N || stream guilty y'all; support my boy taem 🔪🔪🔪 (esp now that hes redebutting)

if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!  

© 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

#simp notes. #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #chan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fake texts #seventeen smau #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #dino fluff #dino angst #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #chan fluff #chan angst

[horangare]

Heyy!!! Just saw that your requests are open... Can I please request a fic?

Something like slow burn (nsfw) arranged marriage with Dino...

(You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable ♡)

Btw, love your fics a lot!! 💖❤️💕✨💞

for the good of the kingdom (and the good of my heart)

pairing : prince!dino x princess!reader

content : angst, fluff, smut (more towards the end, mdni), modern-ish royalty au (sorry but i cannot keep up with that old formal talk), slowburn

in which : where there is a winner, there is always a loser. your country losing the great war was the worst thing that could’ve happened, at least that’s what you thought before you learned you were going to have to marry the prince of the one nation that still kept its alliance with yours.

warnings : dino is totally in love but y/n is totally stubborn, y/n has some personal issues, itzy is mentioned to work for your family, arguments and misunderstandings, fingering, oral (m receiving), handjobs, unprotected sex (be safe), doggy style, creampies, praise, dirty talk, declarations of love during sex, a poor description of a wedding (probably, idk)

wc : 12.3K words

note : aaah omg my first request i’m so excited 😆 also i’m so happy you enjoy my fics, that means so much to me 🥹🩷 (also, i’m sorry this took me a lil minute, this is my time writing slowburn 😭😭)

“I am not marrying him!”

Ever since you were little, the Kingdom of Sokoto has always been the best. The most prosperous, the most powerful, the most influential, all of it. At the mere mention of the name “Sokoto,” people trembled. Hell, just being in the presence of someone from your family or even your court would have the most refined commoner on edge. Needless to say, you were important, and you knew it.

If only it wasn’t for that damned war.

To be fair, the Kingdom of Sokoto hadn’t risen to the top by being kind and loving. Many of the past rulers had been cold and self-serving, but never to the extent that the current ruling family, your family, had been. That was exactly what caused problems back then, and it was exactly what caused problems now.

This had all started in the Kingdom of Hisia, when your father broke a decade long alliance with their people. In his words, Hisia was an “acceptable loss,” because as a kingdom they were too soft-hearted to do anything about it. The only problem about Hisia’s people (other than being too soft-hearted) is that they were notorious gossips. When the common folk got word of this news, they told anyone and everyone who would listen. And soon, almost every kingdom in the nation knew what had happened. From Ilorus to Umbris to Kano, everyone was scrambling to break their alliances with Sokoto. Well, almost everyone.

Of course, the problem didn’t stop with your allies just leaving. No no, leaving wasn’t enough. Sokoto had reigned far too powerful for far too long. Too many things had gone overlooked. Too many injustices unpunished. Apparently, they all had their own personal grievances against the kingdom that had just been waiting to be brought to light. So how exactly did they decide to let you know that? Declaring a war, obviously.

And of course your parents were too stubborn to back down. Sokoto had never lost, never ran away from any sort of threat, never surrendered. After all, there was never a problem this kingdom couldn’t handle, with or without support from the other kingdoms. There wasn’t any need for them anyway. Your army was the most feared and well trained in all the land.

Your army alone, however, hadn’t been enough. Not in the first year of the war. Not in the second. Not in the third. When your father realized that he couldn’t continue on like this, sending the few remaining poor young men of your country to fight a losing battle, watching the rest of his people suffer, he knew had to do the one thing nobody in your family had ever done: he had to surrender.

And now that it had ended, things couldn’t be worse. Sokoto had drastically fallen in status, going from the most revered kingdom to the most despised. Oh, and the gossip never stopped, not even after things had been settled. You heard what they said about your family, every rumor, every exaggeration. You couldn’t stand them.

The only thing that remained the same after the war was your family’s relationship with the Kingdom of Kasmira. The only ones who hadn’t abandoned or betrayed you, even after the initial shock with the Hisians, even after the other kingdoms had broken their alliances, and even after the war. Nobody knew why the Kasmiran royal family still bothered to keep connections with you, but you think you were getting a few ideas.

“[Y/n], I know this is sudden,” Your father said, his arms crossed over his chest. “But given the state of the kingdom, your mother and I have both agreed that a marriage between you and Prince Dino is a good thing for the kingdom.”

“What about what I’ve agreed on, Father?” You argued. “Really…as if losing that war wasn’t enough of an embarrassment.”

Your mother stood up and took a step towards you, pointing a finger in your face. “We do not speak of the war, young lady.” When you backed away, she sighed, and placed her hands on both your shoulders. “Don’t worry. You will have plenty of time to get to know him. Prince Dino is a nice boy. I’m sure the two of you will do good things for both of the Kingdoms.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but for now you chose to bite your tongue. There was a lot you could say, a lot you wanted to say, but it wouldn’t do you any good to argue with your parents when the decision had already been made for you.

So you were getting married. Lucky you.

The day you got the news of your sudden engagement, you went back to your room and didn’t come out for the rest of the day. Really, who did your parents think they were, making such decisions on your behalf? And then saying that you’ll “grow to like it,” was just the icing on the cake. Who were they to speak for you? Who were they to decide who you would marry? God, you hated this family.

Come sunrise the next day, you lied in bed silently and stared at the ceiling. When you were bored of the ceiling, you stared at the wall. And when you were birds if the wall, you stared at the window. No, not out of the window, at the window. There was nothing to look at, anyway.

“Good morning, [Y/n],” The voice of your lady in waiting, Ryujin, drew your attention to the one place in your room you hadn’t looked at yet; the door. “Wow, you look awful.”

You smiled a little and shook your head. Ryujin had always spoken in a way that was a little bit…less than formal than she should have, but it was only really ever around you. Not that you cared. Ryujin and you had a close bond, and she felt more like family to you than the actual people you were related to, so you could find yourself putting up with the way she talked.

“You wouldn’t believe what my parents are making me do this time, Ryujin.” You started, letting out a heavy sigh. “You know Prince Dino? From Kasmira?”

Ryujin stepped closer, tilting her head to the side. “I know of him. Why?”

“They’re making the two of us get married.”

Ryujin gasped, her mouth hanging open. “Really? And they didn’t even tell you until now?”

“No! Can you believe it!” You huffed. “Honestly, why do I even bother with them? They seriously make me sick.”

Ryujin frowned, reaching under the blanket to grab your hand and pull you into an upright sitting position. Suddenly, her face lit up, as if she was remembering something. “Hey, you know what? Someone is actually here to see you, they’re waiting in the garden now.”

Now it was your turn to frown. “Who? Tell them that I’m busy.”

“Busy staring at the ceiling and the wall?”

“And the window.”

Ryujin shook her head, grabbing onto you again but this time to pull you out of bed, much to your displeasure. “Do you really want to stay in bed all day, [Y/n]?”

“I don’t see why I can’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest. At this, Ryujin scoffed. You were definitely your family’s daughter, even as much as you wished you weren’t.

“Oh come now, Your Highness, you could use some sun and fresh air. If you don’t get any now, you might wither away and die.”

“Is that an option?”

With a short laugh, Ryujin dragged you to your wardrobe, picking out what to put you in for today. “Oh [Y/n], you’re unbelievable.”

“I’m serious though.”

Once Ryujin had made you “look presentable” (her words) she led you to the gardens, arm in arm, where she had said this mysterious someone was waiting for you.

“Ryujin, are you sure there was actually someone here and you weren’t just drunk? Again?” You asked, looking around the gardens for any sign of life other than you and your friend.

“Of course I wasn’t drunk! I’m sure he was here…” She mumbled, looking around with you. “Oh! There he is!” She pointed to the left, and you turned your head in the direction she was pointing in.

Standing in a more secluded part of the garden was a tall blonde man with a slightly lost look on his foot. He looked to be your age and was clothed in robes of soft yellow, the royal Kasmiran colors. Wait a minute…this man wasn’t a stranger, this was—

“Oh my god, Prince Dino…” You mumbled. Ryujin lowered her finger, alternating her gaze between you and him in disbelief.

“What? He’s the prince? [Y/n], I swear I didn’t know…he didn’t tell me.” Ryujin stammered, letting you drag her away towards the entrance and back to the castle. “Where are we going? He came here for you and he’s expecting you to be here.”

“Then he’ll be disappointed to know that I won’t be able to see him today. Or any other day.” You told her. The nerve of him, to show up here and telling your lady in waiting that he wanted to see you without even letting himself be known.

“Princess?” He called out from where he was standing, and you gripped Ryujin’s arm tighter. He just had to notice you, didn’t he?

If only Ryujin didn’t know how to deal with your stubbornness so well. You would’ve much preferred rotting in your room as you stared at the ceiling. Or maybe the window.

You turned around with a sigh, shamefully making your way closer to Dino while Ryujin trailed behind, having let go of your arm when you bruised it with that grip of yours. “Hello, Your Highness.” You greeted him formally, which seemed to confuse him.

“Your highness?” He asked with a laugh. “Princess, please. There’s no need to act like that. Not since we’re supposed to be getting married, after all.”

Oh please.

“I’m sorry, your highness. But considering the fact that we are meant to be married, I think this is exactly how we should be speaking to each other.”

“[Y/n], maybe Prince Dino has a point. And anyway you don’t really talk like that all the time—” Ryujin tried to reason with you, but you elbowed her in the side before she could continue. Clearing your throat, you looked back at the prince.

“So, what exactly are you doing here?” You asked him. Despite your formality, Dino seemed amused at your question. He took a few steps closer before stopping, realizing that you were backing away from him.

“Sorry.” He smiled. “My parents told me it would be a good idea to come here and get to know you since…well y’know.” He laughed, hoping you would too, but when he saw you looking more serious than ever, he stopped and looked away.

“So you’re only here because your parents told you to come?”

No response.

“Wow,” You scoffed in reply. You leaned closer to Ryujin, bringing your mouth to her ear. “I can’t believe my parents are this desperate.”

Forcing a smile, Ryujin leaned in closer to you. “Come on, he’s really trying here. Give him a chance. He’s basically your husband, after all.”

“He is not my husband!” You hissed, which caused Ryujin to stifle her laughter behind her hand.

“Yeah yeah, maybe not for now~” She teased, turning to bow for Dino before excusing herself back to the castle. And leaving you here. With him.

“The two of you seem close,” He said.

“Oh my, how on earth did you figure that out?” Dino’s lips formed a faint pout at your sarcasm.

“[Y/n], I’m sorry. I know that this is all very sudden, and I can tell you don’t like me very much,” He sighed. “But I just want to at least get along with you. I’ll really do anything.”

Smiling, you leaned in a bit closer to him. “Really? Anything?” When he nodded, you beckoned him closer with your finger. “Get lost, pretty boy.” Like Ryujin had done just moments ago, you bowed to him before turning away as you quickly retreated to the castle, but Dino followed you anyway with a grin on his face.

“You think I’m pretty?”

You turned your head to glare at him.

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

For the rest of the week, Dino continued to come over every day and seek you out, while you continued to avoid him at every turn. It would have been easier if he wasn’t so insistent, going as far as to ask Ryujin or other castle workers for your whereabouts. Dammit, why couldn’t he just let you avoid him? It’s not like the two of you were actually meant to be together. This was all just a convenient little ploy by your parents to repair their royal status. It wasn’t real, and you wished he would stop treating it like it was.

You really couldn’t believe the lengths he went to with some of these attempts to get closer to you either. The bouquets of white roses in the most intricate porcelain vases? The hand-written letters—front and back? The jewelry carved from only the finest of gemstones? All very sweet sentiments, yes, but to say you were uninterested would be an understatement.

On Friday, much to your embarrassment, Ryujin found you hiding from him underneath one of the tables in the kitchen. When she realized it was you, she shook her head and sighed.

“[Y/n], this is just sad.”

You shushed her, trying to squeeze yourself farther into the corner underneath the table. “Be quiet. He could be listening.”

“You have got to stop running from that boy. I mean really, what’s the big deal. He’s actually really nice.”

“The big deal is that I don’t need him following me around like a stray dog.” You scoffed. “Seriously, why couldn’t we just be a normal family of shunned royalty?”

“You don’t mean that.” She said. “And besides, it’s only a matter of time before he finds you. He’s really not giving up either, [Y/n].”

Realizing she was right, you crawled out from under the table, muttering a few curses under your breath. “Believe me, I know. He won’t stop sending me gifts.” Ryujin smiled when you said that.

“Wow, isn’t he charming.” Ryujin chuckled. “And speaking of him, he told me to tell you to meet him in the gardens again today.”

“Why is he always telling you all this stuff and not me?”

Ryujin looked at you incredulously. “Because you avoid him like the damn plague.”

Oh, right. She did have a point. Whatever, it’s not like you were going to go. You had managed to avoid him all week, and absolutely nothing would convince you to go.

Ryujin seemed to sense this, and she smirked. “He made you a picnic.”

“I’m so happy you actually came,” Dino smiled at you. You sat across from him, holding the bowl of strawberries he had set out before him on the blanket. You looked up at him, pulling the strawberry you had been eating away from your mouth so you could respond to him.

“I just came because Ryujin told me about the picnic.” You curtly responded, bringing the strawberry back to your mouth. You thought he would’ve stopped smiling when you said that, but his smile only grew wider.

“So that’s all it takes then.” He mumbled. “Is that why you didn’t care for the gifts I sent before?”

You looked him up and down, sneering. “No, it was because I just didn’t care for them. It’s not wise to spend your money so carelessly on things that don’t matter.”

Dino leaned back, bracing himself up with his hands. “Trying to please my future wife doesn’t matter?”

You stiffened, gripping the bowl tighter in your hands. “Stop saying things like that.” You warned, yet he still seemed unphased as he watched you devour the rest of the strawberries. When the bowl had been emptied, you stared down into it with a frown and began to regret your greed for the little red fruit, because now you were all out.

Dino picked up the bowl once you had tossed it aside. “Should I ask someone to get you some more? I didn’t realize you would eat the entire bowl.”

“No.” You dismissively waved your hand, pushing away the thoughts of the strawberries, even though the offer of more was tempting. You hadn’t had strawberries since before the war. They didn’t grow in Sokoto, which is a fact that devastated you when you found out, and you always relied on a fresh monthly shipment of them from the Hisians and now…well…you’ve just gone a long time without strawberries. “No, It’s fine.”

Dino, however, was as insistent as ever. He picked up the bowl and started walking back to the castle. “I’ll ask Ryujin for more strawberries. Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

You spared him a single glance before looking elsewhere. “No promises.”

Dino laughed to himself, the words almost escaping his ears as he marched back to the castle with a little extra speed. He knew you wouldn’t leave—at least he hoped he knew. He wanted to trust himself, to trust you, but you were unpredictable. Thankfully, a little unpredictability was hardly an issue for him.

Though honestly, if you wanted to leave at any time, you definitely would. But with the promise of your favorite fruit, the urge to leave was just a bit short of overwhelming at the moment. Shifting yourself to lie on your stomach, you started to take notice of all the different things that Dino had packed with him on this picnic. All of your favorites…even the things you hadn’t gotten to taste in years. How could he know about any of this? You grumbled at the thought of Ryujin or any of the chefs selling you out.

You also took notice of the white rose sticking out of the basket. While they were the official flower of Kasmira, you were sure he must’ve had a secret stash of these somewhere because to be honest, you were getting tired of seeing them. But this one looked especially delicate, you couldn’t help but reach forward and take it in your hands, twirling it around and even holding it to your nose to take in the faint scent.

The sound of Dino’s footsteps on the gravel path had you looking over your shoulder, noticing he came back with an even bigger bowl of strawberries than he had left with. His classic smile returned to his face when he saw that your eyes had widened.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Ryujin insisted on giving you a bigger bowl. Said that you’d have no problem finishing the entire thing.” Him saying that had you coming back to your senses. Ryujin was just asking to be put out of a job going and telling those things to Dino.

You turned away, gazing down at the bowl when Dino set it in front of you. He sat himself down next to you, choosing to stay silent as he watched you set the rose to the side and pull the bowl closer to you.

“How did you know I liked all this stuff?” You asked quietly. Dino let out some sort of confused dound, and you sighed. “The food, I mean. Like…the strawberries. I haven’t had them in ages.”

Dino nodded, having understood what you meant. “When I told Ryujin I wanted to do this for you, she told me about all of the foods you always eat.” He laughed. “Really, I didn’t realize that you could be so choosy with your food. Do you know how hard it is to get fresh strawberries at this time if the year?”

“Oh fuck off.” Dino gasped, his mouth falling open at your sudden vulgarity. You were surprised too, covering your mouth with one of your hands once the words you had said sunk in. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I didn’t know the Princess of Sokoto had such a filthy mouth,” He mumbled. For a brief moment, you were actually wondering if he was serious, but the smirk that slowly appeared on his face gave him away. Unable to fight the urges telling you not to, you hit him in the arm, biting back grin when he winced. “I didn’t know you hit so hard, either.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Your Highness.” You stared at the strawberry in your hand, taking one bite before placing it back in the bowl. “I shouldn’t eat any more. The chefs will be preparing dinner soon.”

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, and you nodded. “Alright then, should I escort you back?” He extended one of his hands towards you, and you stared at it for a moment, but still ended up declining. You didn’t miss the glint of disappointment in his eyes, either.

“We should do this again sometime.” You noted. “And I’m not saying that because I want to be around you, but because I enjoyed the food.”

Ah, there it was again, that classic bright smile.

“Also, you smile too much. I don’t like it.”

You had been right about the strawberries. They did end up spoiling your appetite. You stared down at your plate, many of the contents on your plate going uneaten before you excused yourself to your room, Ryujin trailing behind as usual.

“[Y/n], what’s the matter? Was something wrong at dinner?” She asked, following you around as you threw yourself into bed. “Is it so bad you’re not even going to bother to change out of your outfit from today? Seriously, it’s going to get all wrinkled, and that’s just extra work for Yeji to do later.”

“I ate too many strawberries.” You stated. “Though I’m sure you know about that, right?”

Ryujin looked away, shrugging and shaking her head. “I’m not sure that I do, actually,” She mumbled, pairing it with an awkward laugh when she noticed you glaring at her. “Anyway, how was your little date with Prince Dino?”

“Ryujin, it was not a date. And even if it was, it would’ve been a pretty shitty date considering he left me in the middle of it.”

“Ah, c’mon, he came back! And he came bearing gifts!” She tried to reason with you, which you found both pointless and confusing.

You rolled your eyes, burying your head under the blankets, despite Ryujin’s protests that you would mess up your hair and get more wrinkles in your clothes. It wasn’t really a date, was it? Is that what dates were? Just being around another person, having them close by, talking (or not talking) to each other about whatever crossed your mind? That was a date? No way, you knew what a date was and whatever you and Dino had going on definitely wasn’t that. People went on dates when they loved each other, when there was romance budding and underlying tension. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t a date.

“Are you seriously not going to change out of that?” Ryujin asked, trying to pull down the blankets, but you were, unsurprisingly, stronger. With a sigh, she backed away. “Fine, but if Yeji asks me why your outfits are so wrinkled, I’m telling her.” You lowered the blanket just low enough to see her march out of the room and slam your door shut.

Normally, you would’ve fallen asleep after just a few minutes with your eyes closed. However, your stomach still felt funny and you tossed and turned every few minutes. We’re those strawberries really fresh? Would Dino serve you rotten strawberries? No, of course not…they were too red to be out of season. Not only that, but there was little chance Dino would do anything like that to you. He was too nice. The reason your parents ever think you two were some sort of match made and heaven was beyond you.

You couldn’t sleep yet. Not like this. Not with the ache in your stomach and the thoughts racing around in your head. Sighing, you gathered the little strength you had left to roll yourself out of bed, wandering through the halls and corridors until you needed up outside, at the front of the castle. A deep breath, followed by a slow exhale, and your head fell back towards the sky. The night sky was clear and vast and full of stars, and you felt your lips curl into a smile.

The stars understood you. When everyone else had abandoned you, abandoned your family, you sought comfort in the starry night sky. The stars never turned you away. The stars never betrayed you. The stars never forced you to do anything you couldn’t decide on. When you died, you hoped you became a star. They would surely accept you with open arms, like a real family.

You were so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed someone approaching you. A tall, blonde, someone.

“So you like the stars?” Dino asked, and you jumped a little. He took a step back, feeling bad for having startled you. “Sorry, [Y/n]. It’s just me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at him, but turned your attention quickly back to the sky. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you that too.” He said, following your gaze and looking up. “It’s late for a princess to be alone outside at night.”

“My stomach hurts.” You told him. “From the strawberries. A walk always helps.”

“That was hours ago.” He said. “That’s weird. They were definitely fresh. Are you sure it was the strawberries?”

“What else could it have been?” You asked, your tone a bit harsher than you intended. You sighed, deciding to change the subject. “What about you? Why are you out here? I thought you went back home.”

“It’s not like I live far.” He had a point…kind of. Kasmira was your closest neighbor, only being about a few hundred miles to the east. You were seriously wondering how he managed to get here every day and still have so much time to spend entertaining the hope of getting to coax you out of your room to spend time with him. “Aww, are you worried about me?”

“Don’t go talking like that.” You told him. “Unless you want me to hit you again.”

Dino chuckled, breaking his eyes away from the sky to look at you. “You never answered my question from earlier.”

“Which one? I’m not keeping count.”

“Do you like the stars?”

You managed to look away from the stars to allow your eyes to meet Dino’s, even if only for a second. “Yeah. I always have.”

He stepped closer. “Why?”

“Because…” You hesitated. Why were you hesitating? “I just do.”

You froze, feeling something wet and warm sliding down your cheek. Dino gasped, coming even closer to see you clearly.

“You just ‘do?’ Is that really all there is to it?”

“Why do you keep asking me so many questions?” When you came out here, you had been hoping for a moment of peace and quiet. A chance to vent your frustrations to the sky, like you had done since you could talk. This was your one chance for a little bit of solitude, and you hadn’t wanted anyone intruding on it.

“I was thinking about what you said before,” He said. “When you told me there was a lot I didn’t know about you. You were right, I don’t know a lot about you.”

Okay, great. Now you were starting to feel bad about getting so upset. You sighed, lowering your head and looking at the ground. “I’ve always liked the stars. I just…find comfort in them.”

Dino wondered if you were going to say more, but you kept your lips pursed, and he figured there was more to it that you weren’t saying. That was fine, he wouldn’t push an answer out of you if you weren’t ready, he was just grateful you had confided in him. This was progress, even if it was only a small step forward.

The two of you continued to stand there in silence, looking everywhere but at each other. There was a strange feeling in the air, and it made you uncomfortable. Was this tension? Could Dino feel it too?

“Um, I should probably get back to bed.” You said, noticing Dino nod out of the corner of your eye. Like before, he extended his hand to you, and once again you declined. “Good night, Your Highness.”

“Good night, [Y/n].”

The next morning, you did something you hadn’t done in a long time.

You shocked Ryujin.

“What are you doing awake already?” She questioned. “Is it opposite day? Am I still dreaming?”

“Oh you’re so funny, Ryujin.” You said, sliding past her and out of the door.

“Where are you going? And how are you already dressed? You did my job for me…am I getting fired?”

You laughed. “Relax. I’m just going to the orchard.” Ryujin narrowed her eyes at how casual you seemed, not even trying to hide her skepticism.

“The orchard? For what? We have plenty of apples here. Too many, if I’m being honest. Where are you really going?”

“Ryujin, really, what reason do you have not to trust me?”

“I have several. An entire list, actually.” She said. “Seems like I’ll be making an addition to it today.

“Ryujin, I’m giving you a day off, don’t you get it?” You asked her. “Now I suggest you take it before I make you do your job.”

Her demeanor changed in an instant.

“You are most gracious, Your Highness.” She bowed to you and then ran off to who knows where, probably the maids quarters, no doubt. Whatever, that was her business. Just like your trip to the orchard with Prince Dino was yours.

Since the picnic, he had stopped with the other gifts—well, he still sent you the flowers—and had started planning on bringing you out, starting with Kasmira’s renowned apple orchard. Kasmiran apples were spoken about in every corner of every kingdom, known for their distinctive flavor and sweetness. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to try one for yourself, and now you would finally get the chance.

He was waiting for you with a carriage, which he offered to help you into.

You raised one of your eyebrows. “What, you think I need your help to sit down?” When he pouted, you gave him a light shove. “I’m only kidding. But really, I’ve got it.”

“That was a joke?” He asked, climbing in and sitting across from you. “I’m shocked. I didn’t know you even had a sense of humor.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just normally so…serious. If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have known you were kidding.”

You tilted your head back, resting it on the solid interior of the carriage. “The only person I ever joke with is Ryujin.” You explained to him. “She gets me. It’s easy to laugh with her.”

“You laugh too?” He just couldn’t stop. “I’ll believe it when I hear it.” He teased.

You glared at him, opening your mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, you turned your head to look out of the window, watching the landscape as it came into view and faded out of sight with the movement with the carriage.

“Will we be there soon?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to get to Kasmira as fast as possible to get your hands on one (or five) of those apples you had heard so much about.

“Yeah…” Dino nodded, then stopped and shook his head. “No, it’ll be about fifty minutes.”

Great, fifty minutes until you got to taste the rumored honey and heaven apples. Fifty minutes left riding inside this tiny little compartment with too little space keeping you and Dino apart. Just great.

To your surprise, the ride had been faster than you expected. It might’ve had something to do to the nap you took on the way, but that was neither here nor there. Dino placed a hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you awake.

“Hm?” You hummed, the clutches of sleep still gripping your brain. You blinked yourself awake, gasping when you saw the field of trees from the carriage window. “We’re here!”

Dino opened the door, sliding out of the seat and holding the door open for you. You practically jumped out, an awestruck smile on your face as you stared up at the trees littered with the soft pink apples.

Dino smiled softly at your enthusiasm, watching as you stood up as tall as you could and plucked an apple off a branch, happily bringing it to your mouth to take a bite.

Oh god, the rumors did no justice to describe the taste of these apples. You had never tasted anything as fresh and crisp in your entire life. Giving Dino a quick glance, you continued to bite into the apple over and over again until he pulled it away from you, laughing.

“So, what do you think?”

You covered your mouth with one hand, trying to chew and swallow what was in your mouth, before nodding with a smile. “They’re amazing! I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life!” You took the apple back from Dino’s hands, taking the last few bites before you had finished it off.

“Then let’s get you a few more, hmm?” He said, pressing a hand against the small of your back while he reached up to grab a few more apples and drop them into the basket he had brought with him in his other hand. You froze, your skin burning at the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Um…Prince Dino?” You mumbled, catching his attention. You had never called him by anything other than “Your Highness” since the two of you first met, and he was definitely shocked to hear you say those words.

“Yes, [Y/n]?” He said, looking down at you but never moving his hand from your back.

“Your—your hand…” Dino looked down at his hand was, immediately pulling it away from where it had been, and in an instant you felt the warmth that had been there fade away.

“Oh, I’m so sorry [Y/n], I didn’t even realize.” He apologized. Without another word, he leaned down to pick up the basket and handed it to you. “Here you go, [Y/n]. Should I come with you to—”

“No!” You shouted, though you hadn’t meant to raise your voice. “No, no. There’s no need. I’ll go back on my own.”

Dino wanted to say something, but you had already turned your back to him, rushing back to the carriage and telling the driver to bring you back to Sokoto before he could. Glancing out of the window, you noticed him standing under the tree, watching you get farther and farther away, his arms limp at his sides.

You brought a hand to your chest, feeling your heart beat twice as fast than it should have been. This shouldn’t have been happening. This was exactly the reason you didn’t want him touching you, the reason you had refused to touch him, because you knew that if it happened, you wouldn’t be able to control how it would affect you. Even though it had been such a harmless, domestic, innocent touch, if it could get this much of a reaction out of you, maybe you should get stricter on the “no touching” rule.

This is not at all how you thought today would turn out.

The next day things had gone back to the way they had been in the beginning; with you holed up in your room, avoiding Dino. And it was like that for the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Ryujin had tried to get you outside, or at the very least to the dinner table, but her persistence couldn’t stand a chance against your stubbornness. Once a week had passed since the apple incident, Ryujin couldn’t take it any more.

“Enough is enough [Y/n]. You haven’t left your room in a week. Dino won’t stop hounding me with questions about where you are every day, and I can’t take it anymore!” She huffed. “You need to get up and go see him so I don’t have to.”

“Ryujin, I can’t.” You said with a heavy sigh. “It’s just…complicated.”

“How complicated could things really be?”

More complicated than you would’ve liked. “I just can’t see him right now.”

“Well that’s too bad, because I told him you would.” Ryujin shrugged. “He’ll be here later, so we have to make you look…like you again, now.”

“Ryujin, I’m tired of you trying to play matchmaker. Are my parents paying you to do this to me?” You asked, your tone nothing short of accusatory.

“I’m doing this because you don’t need to be locked up in this room all day. Not only that, but I can tell how much you and Dino like spending time with each other.”

The rebuttal in your mind died in your throat at the last sentence Ryujin had said. The time you had spend with Dino recently hadn’t been all bad…but what did she know?

“Now get up. Unless you want Dino to come over and see you like…that.” She gestured to your overall disheveled appearance, a grimace on her face.

“Oh yeah, like you’re not a sight for sore eyes.” You hissed, then broke out into laughter along with Ryujin a second later. “Fine, whatever, I’m getting up.”

The next hour consisted of a long, soapy bubble bath, followed by Ryujin washing and doing your hair, and finally her picking out the finest outfit for you to wear just in time for Dino’s arrival in his favorite rendezvous point: the Sokoto castle gardens.

Fuck, you were so nervous.

Dino arrived with a single white rose in his hand and a smile, thrilled to be able to see you again. Ryujin bowed and wandered off, leaving with. Alone. Again.

“For you.” He said, handing the rose to you. You looked down at it before you gingerly took it from him and thanked him with a fleeting smile.

“Thank you.”

Awkward silence. The worst type of silence. This is exactly why you wanted to avoid him, to prevent all of these unnecessary feelings.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that day…at the orchard.” He said. “And my apology was so shitty, I—”

“Dino, stop. Don’t apologize. It’s…It’s okay. I shouldn’t have run off on you like that. It was rude of me.”

Dino stepped closer, noticing the way your body tensed up when he did. “[Y/n], what’s going on?”

“I…I don’t want you to touch me.” You whispered. The grip you had on the rose was starting to hurt your hand. Dino gave you a curious and worried look.

“Why?”

“…Because when you touched me at the orchard, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way before in my life.”

You expected many different reactions from Dino. You expected him to back away, to call you strange or disgusting. You expected him to go running back to Kasmira as fast has his feet would carry him, to start avoiding you like you had been avoiding him. You even expected him to ask to call off the marriage agreement and find someone better, or nicer, or prettier.

You never expected him to pull you close, cursing under his breath and pulling your face up to look at him.

“Really, baby?” He asked, his voice suddenly soft, a direct contract to the way his eyes darkened. “Is that why you’ve been so adamant on not letting me touch you?”

A tentative nod of your head had Dino chuckling. “Now it all makes sense. Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel a thousand times better…only if you want to, though.”

“Yes, please,” your words came out hushed and breathy and shaky, allowing Dino to guide you you backwards onto the grass and gently push you backwards while he hovered above you.

Dino slid his hands down your body, seemingly pleased at the way you shivered when his fingers traced over your underwear, pushing up the button of your dress to see how drenched they were.

“Oh, baby,” Dino sucked in a sharp breath, pulling them to the side and biting his lip once he had seen how wet you actually were. “Is this all because of me?”

You nodded, covering your mouth to keep any noise from escaping. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You mumbled from behind your hand, making sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you clearly.

He ran two of his fingers up and down your slit before pushing one of them inside of you, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, all the while you squirmed beneath him, working hard to trap the moans that threatened to spill out of your lips.

“Baby, don’t be so nervous,” he said, adding a second finger inside of you and curling them just enough so that you finally let your hands fall away from your mouth and let your moans out. “That’s it, keep moaning like that for me. Fuck, you sound so pretty.”

“Dino…f-fuck. Don’t stop…” You ground your hips up into his hand, your mind growing foggy with pleasure as Dino increased the speed of his fingers. You were embarrassed at how easily his fingers slid in and out of you from how wet you continued to get.

Dino lowered his head, bringing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at any exposed skin he could find. He thrived at the way your moans grew louder and more urgent, switching the position of his fingers, opting for a scissoring motion and pressing his lips together to keep in a moan of his own. “Your thighs are starting to shake, love. Gonna cum for me?”

You nodded weakly, arching your back when you felt Dino add a third finger inside of you. Your skin felt hot and sticky and sweaty all over, and the only thing you could say when you felt your orgasm hit you like an earthquake was “Dino, Dino, Dino,” over and over again.

“That’s my girl,” Dino mumbled, fingering you through your high, pulling them out of you once you wrapped a hand around his wrist. You watched with wide eyes as he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste of you. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“Don’t say thatttttt.” You whined, pushing him down onto the grass while you sat yourself upright. Wasting no time, you immediately brought one of your hands to his crotch, palming over the bulge that had been growing inside of his pants. “Ooh, what’s this? Is this all because of me?” You mimicked the words he had said to you earlier, grinning when he nodded and pushed his hips up into your hand.

“Baby, come on, you’re really gonna tease me right now?” Dino asked, unable to stop his hips from moving. As much as you wanted to tease him, there would be plenty of opportunities to do that another time. Right now, you wanted so badly to taste him, to feel him in your mouth and hear him moan for you like you had done for him.

You tugged down his pants and underwear, just enough so that his cock could spring free, and you drooled at the sight, noticing the bead of pre cum that had collected at his tip, and now it was time for Dino to be the embarrassed one.

“So…big.” You mumbled, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a few slow pumps, squeezing him once to see what his reaction would be. A hoarse groan served as your answer. “Can I…use my mouth on you?”

“Of course you can baby,” Dino nodded all too eagerly, watching with rapt attention as you brought your lips closer and closer to his cock. You have his tip a few kitten licks, the slightly salty taste spreading onto your taste buds. To be honest, you really didn’t know how to do this, the request coming from a carnal place inside of you. You were stalking for time so you could recall the words in a book you once read that had a scene similar to this moment in it. Once you had the faintest idea of how to proceed, you wrapped your lips firmly around his cock, feeling him rest his hands on the top of your head for stability.

Feeling you swirl your tongue around him, flicking your tongue across the slit as your head bobbed up and down had Dino absolutely reeling beneath you. He gripped your hair, shoving it all the way down to the base as he thrust his hips up into your mouth, gagging as a few tears starting to form in your eyes. “S-Sorry baby, shit, I can’t help myself…you’re s-so good with this cute little mouth of y-yours, fuck. Gonna fuckin’ cum already.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, letting Dino continue to fuck your mouth. He had pulled you back slightly when he registered your gagging, allowing you to wrap your hands around what didn’t fit in your mouth. You stroked him as fast as he tugged your head up and down, feeling your saliva trickle down your lips, chin, and all the way down Dino’s cock. When his hips stilled, you thought for a slight second that something was wrong, but the next second you felt his cum shoot into your mouth and down your throat, and he released his grip on your hair as he laid back and panted.

Recalling the words in the book once again, you swallowed—unfortunately you had done so a bit too fast, and you coughed and patted your chest to keep yourself from choking. The last thing you wanted to do right now was die in front of Dino after you had just sucked him off after he had just fingered you. Dino helped you by patting your back. Once your breathing had gone back to normal, he smiled at you, and you returned the gesture.

“Wow, you were right,” You mumbled. “I do feel a thousand times better.”

“Does this mean we can ban the no touching rule?”

You narrowed your eyes at him with a grin, giving him a pinch on his thigh. Dino hissed in pain, scrambling to pull up his underwear and pants. “Consider that a yes.”

The next few weeks were nothing short of amazing. There was a minuscule, growing spark between you and Dino now, and it resided inside of your heart, and you felt no desire to let it die out or even to extinguish it.

Dino took you on several dates, yes, dates, in this time frame, always with an added personal touch. He brought you to a local Kasmiran bakery and then let you ride his thigh on the carriage ride home. He took you to a winery in Vaelia then ate you out behind the building. He asked you to tag along while he went sightseeing in Sokoto and had you cockwarm him in the carriage the whole time. With each of these, the spark in your heart continued to grow. 

At this rate, it was only a jagged of time before it grew to become a fire.

You were up early again this morning, having thought of the most wonderful idea in bed the night before. Today, you were going to Kasmira all on your own to surprise Dino. Sure, yes, you had been to Kasmira before, but never had you been to the castle. You would even bring him some tarts made from the tangerines you had picked in the Sokotoan tangerine fields on Tuesday with Dino before he asked you to sit on his face. That was a good day.

Ryujin couldn’t be happier for you, though at some times during this new stage in the relationship between you and Dino she felt like she couldn’t keep up with the new you. Though recently, you had been giving her more days to herself as you insisted on doing all the work for yourself.

You were getting ready to go, opening the door of your room, shocked to see Chaeryeong already standing there, seemingly spacing out again with a round golden container in her hands.

“Um…Chaeryeong?” You mumbled, waving a hand in front of her face. That seemed enough to snap her out of it, and she focused her gaze on you with a smile.

“Ah, sorry Your Highness! Here are the tarts, freshly baked just for you. Lia was going to deliver them, but then she remembered she had something to do with Ryujin at the last minute.”

You took the container from her and smiled. “Thank you. Oh, and tell the cooks I said thank you as well.” Chaeryeong nodded, bowing to you before excusing herself. You shut your door behind you, making your way out of the castle and to a carriage as fast as you could. When the driver asked where to, you happily chirped out “Kasmira, please,” and asked him to get you there as quick as he could. For all fifty minutes, you couldn’t sit still for longer than a few seconds. You just couldn’t wait to see Dino again, to hold him close and feed him your tarts. He’d probably ask if you made them, and even though you hadn’t, he’d still say they were the best things he’d ever tasted second to you. Then you’d get flustered, hit him, and let him bury himself between your thighs for as long as he wanted.

Long story short, you really wanted to see Dino. Really badly.

Upon your arrival to the Kasmiran castle, you rushed out of the carriage and into the castle, asking around until you found out that Dino was in the Kasmiran royal gardens. Thanking them, you hurried your way there, smiling when you took notice of his signature blonde hair. You were just about to call his name when he laughed, leaning his head back, and you saw a woman sitting beside him, looking at him with a smile on her face.

You felt your mouth go dry as it fell open in disbelief.

Princess Miyoung, the Princess of Hisia, was here in Kasmira. She was sitting next to Dino. Laughing with him. Touching his arm. You let out a shaky breath, a tightening feeling growing in your chest. What was she doing here? Why was she with him? What had she said to make him laugh like that? Fuck, you couldn’t take this. You had to get out of here. You turned around, having your third shock of the day to see Dino’s parents standing in the hallway behind you.

“Oh! Princess [Y/n],” His mother said, obviously surprised to see you standing there. “I wasn’t aware you were here. Is there something you need, honey?”

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut with your head to the ground. There was no way you were making a scene, not in front of Dino’s parents. “N-No, uh…I just came to drop off these…tarts. For Dino.” You mumbled, pushing the container into the hands of the King.

“Well, what a lovely sentiment! We’ll be sure to give these to him then dear. I’m sure he’ll be happy to—”

“[Y/n]?” Dino’s smooth voice filled your ears and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t turn to face him, you couldn’t, not if when you opened them you would see Miyoung standing there beside him, her presence alone enough to taunt you. “[Y/n], what wrong?”

“I have to go.” You said, scurrying out of the castle and back to the carriage. Dino chased after you, managing to catch up just before the carriage could start moving.

“What’s the matter? You just got here and now you’re leaving? Stay.” He reached through the open window to hold your hand, but you pulled it away and glared at him.

“Why? You shouldn’t need me when you have Miyoung here to entertain you in my place.” You retorted. Dino’s face fell, and you could only beat yourself up mentally for letting yourself get roped in by him. Of course he didn’t care about you. There was no way he could ever feel the same way about you as you did about him. You were fooling yourself for even thinking that for a second, Dino’s feelings were the same as yours.

“[Y/n], it isn’t like that, please just let me explain—”

You brought your hand up, placing it in front of his face to signal him to stop talking. “Don’t bother, Your Highness.”

For the second time, Dino watched you disappear from him, to let you slip through his hands like grains of sand, and stand to the side powerless as you faded away.

This cycle seemed impossible to break.

For the umpteenth time, here you were, locked away in your room, refusing to see Dino no matter how many times he had begged. You cried every day, drowning your sorrows in bottles upon bottles of wine, dragging yourself to the window to sob to the stars once night had come. You kept the door lock, adamant on not letting anyone see you in such a state. Unfortunately, Ryujin had picked the lock of your bedroom door with a handmade lock pick she got from Yeji because you “needed to eat” so you wouldn’t die before the wedding.

To hell with that wedding, and to hell with the groom.

You sat up in bed, your hands still gripping the nearly empty wine bottle and your cheeks still stained with last nights tears. You brought the bottle to your lips, finishing it off and tossing it aside into the bed. With heavy feet, you dragged yourself to the vanity in the corner of the room, sitting down to take in your reflection.

What have I become, you asked yourself. Who am I? Sighing, you smoothed out the wrinkles in your clothes and tried to make your hair look less unkempt. You wished Yuna was here, she was the hair expert. Ryujin always preferred to keep it simple whenever she did your hair, but she had admitted to you that she learned everything she knew from the younger girl.

A knock at the door had you rolling your eyes.

“Go away, Ryujin. I don’t want breakfast.”

The door opened slightly, and you turned around with a scowl on your face. But then your face changed—softened. Ryujin wasn’t at the door.

“Sorry, I’m not Ryujin.” Dino mumbled, cautiously entering your room before shutting it behind him. “Can we…talk? I haven’t seen you in weeks, [Y/n]. I’m really worried.”

His tone of voice was so gentle and sincere you almost forgot why you were mad at him. Almost. The reason why came flooding back to your brain instantly, and you turned away from him.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You said to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“[Y/n], please don’t be like that. You left before I had the chance to explain back at the castle.”

“Explain what?” You stood up, whipping around to face him. “Explain what you were doing with the Princess of Hisia? You know what they did to us.” Your last sentence came out quieter—sadder.

“Who is ‘us’?”

“Me! My family! The rest of Sokoto! That is who ‘us’ is, Dino!”

“Why are you grouping yourself with them?” As hard as Dino tried to understand you, in this moment he just…couldn’t. “The war wasn’t your fault, and there was nothing you could’ve done to change what had already happened.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that Hisia stabbed us in the back. And there you were, with the Princess of the first nation that decided to betray us.” You pointed your finger at him. “You’re a traitor.”

“I’m sorry that I have friends, [Y/n], and you don’t. But when your kingdom decides to stay out of unnecessary political affairs that you aren’t a part of, you get keep your allies. I’m sorry if that’s something you or your parents don’t realize because you’re so insistent on being cold and unfeeling, but that’s not what we do in Kasmira.”

Everything he said hurt more because not one part of it was false. But you couldn’t back down now. You had to do something to regain control over the argument.

Even if it meant sending him away.

“Get out.”

Dino raked his hands through his hair, and you could tell that his patience with you was running thin. “No, [Y/n]. I’m not leaving you while you’re like this.”

You glared at him. “I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again! Go marry somebody else!”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, the look on Dino’s face was enough to make you regret saying them. You had never seen him go from looking so shocked and heartbroken before, not even the slightest bit. But now…now you had. At it was all because of you.

“Why would I want to marry someone else?”

Silence. Long, heavy, painful silence. Neither one of you looked away from the other or spoke, until finally, after what felt like forever, you found an answer.

“Because I know someone out there is a better match for you than I am.”

“What? [Y/n], what are you talking about? That’s not what I want at all.”

“You…you don’t mean that.” You couldn’t even look at him right now, not if you wanted to believe what you were saying no matter how untrue it was.

“I do, [Y/n]. I mean it. I’ve wanted to marry you since the first time I saw you. Even if you kept running from me. Even if you pushed me away. Even if I could only see you on your time.” Nothing could prepare you for the words he said next. “Because I love you, [Y/n].”

You stiffened, finally finding the strength to raise your head to look at him “What did you say?”

“I said I love you.” He repeated. “Should I say it again, baby?”

“N-No, you can’t…” You whimpered, leaning into Dino’s chest as you felt tears brimming at your waterline. “Please take it back…”

“Take it back? No, why would I ever do that? I really mean it. I’d never say I love you and not mean it, [Y/n].”

“Why do you love me? What is there to love, Dino?”

Dino frowned, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly.

“You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Every time you laugh, I laugh, because it’s so infectious. You’re such a good friend to Ryujin. When you eat something you like, you can’t stop until you’ve finished it all. You don’t make the best jokes ever, but you’re learning.” He said, laughing a little once he had finished. “And those are just my favorite things about you.”

You wrapped your arms around Dino, running your hands up and down his back, forcing yourself to believe that yes, this was reality. He was here, he was real, and he loved you. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled, the sound of your voice quiet.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry.” You pulled back slightly so that he could hear your voice clearly. “I shouldn’t have ignored you, or run from you, or any of it. I…” Deep breath, you could do it. “I love you too.”

“Is all that true, baby?” You nodded, and Dino immediately pulled you back to his chest, hugging you even tighter. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

“You mean it?” You asked, wanting to make sure that he was serious. “Not just ‘cause we’re supposed to get married, right?”

His laughter was music to your ears. “Of course not, baby. I love you either way.”

You smiled, tilting your head up so Dino could wipe away your stray tears.

Dino nodded, pulling you back again so he could look you in the eyes. “Yeah, I love you, baby.” His eyes flickered down to your lips before coming back to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

A nod of your head is all it takes before he’s pressing his lips to yours. You had never been kissed by anyone before, but the way Dino kissed you was enough to make you glad that this was the first kiss you had ever gotten. The kiss was slow and tender, and you unconsciously chased his lips when he attempted to pull away, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him in place. Dino smiled against your lips, the two of you only pulling away once the need for air went from mild to severe.

“Again?” You asked, and Dino immediately pulled you in again. The kiss was different this time, it was faster and sloppier, the initial tenderness of the first being replaced by a newfound desperation now that you two knew that what you were feeling was the same. Dino loved you, and you loved Dino.

You didn’t fight it when Dino started to guide you backwards, your body hitting the bed with a bounce. Dino slipped his hands under your thighs, flipping up the bottom of your silk nightgown and pulling down your underwear and tossing it onto the floor. He cupped your cunt with one hand, the palm of his hand pressed flat against your clit.

“Dino, please…”

“Please what, baby? Don’t you want me to play with this cute little pussy like always?” He asked, feeling the way your arousal stuck to his hand as he circles your entrance with one of his fingers. You shook your head, holding onto his wrist with your hand.

“Just want you to fuck me.”

Dino groaned, resting his hands on your hips and pushing your nightgown up even further. “Yeah? You sure, baby?”

You nodded, your skin flushed with heat. “Mhm, want your cock, Dino.”

God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful, and that he couldn’t get any harder, you just continued to surprise him.

“Who am I to deny the Princess?” He smirked, making quick work of removing his clothes. While he was doing that, you pulled off your nightgown and threw it and your bra aside, both of them landing somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Dino laid you back down on the bed, climbing on top of you while he ran his hands all over your body, grinning at the way you moaned and trembled when he teased your nipples.

“Dino, please,” You whined, and he chuckled softly.

“Okay, okay, sorry. I just can’t help myself,” He mumbled, reaching down to pump his cock a few times before lining it up at your entrance. “Ready, baby?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Ready.”

Dino eased into your cunt slowly, giving you the chance to adjust to him, all the while he swallowed your whimpers and whines by kissing you. When he had pushed himself all the way inside, he tore his lips away from yours to bite down on your shoulder, resisting the urge to start moving his hips already. The two of you stayed like that for a little while before you  told him it was alright to start moving.

“So perfect, so pretty,” Dino mumbled, holding one of his hands holding onto your hip while the other had both of your wrists pinned above your head. He thrusted into you slowly, pulling himself out almost all the way before slamming back inside of you. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this, baby, fuck.”

“M-me too.” You shuddered, your body slowly traveling further up the bed each time he thrusted into you. “Love it, love you, love your cock, shit…”

“Love you too baby, so much,” He whispered, speeding up the speed of his thrusts, a quiet grunt coming out of his mouth when he felt your walls clenching around him. “Fuck…gonna cum for me already baby? Hm?”

Your response was lost in a series of strangled noises of pleasure as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. Dino pulled the hand pinning your wrists away and brought it down to the point where your bodies were connected, rubbing your clit in quick circles. You cried out, rolling your hips against him, your eyes rolling back into your head as you came undone beneath him.

“That’s it baby, I’ve got you,” He groaned, speeding up even more as he continued to thrust through your high. Once you had caught your breath, his hips jerked forward one last time before you felt his hit cum filling you up. You tried to pull him closer, figuring that he was done, but Dino flipped you over and ran the head of his cock along your slit, making you whine from the overstimulation.

“Just one more, baby. I cant get enough of this sweet little pussy,” He pushed in without warning, and you screamed, shocked at yourself for just how loud you were being.

“Ngh, Dino, c-can’t take it,” You whined, your head falling down onto the pillows and your mouth hanging open as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure.

“Shh, I know you can take it baby,” Dino whispered, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest, bringing his head to the crook of your neck, taking a long deep inhale and sighing with content. “You smell so fucking good.”

You can feel his pounding in his chest against your back, your head falling backwards as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “G-Gonna cum again…” Dino couldn’t even brace himself before your walls clamped down against his cock, whispering curses against your skin, and felt his own release envelop him for the second time today too.

You fell forward onto the bed, your eyes closed as you steadied your breathing once again. Dino collapsed beside you, draping an arm over your waist and pulling you close. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at him and smiled.

“That was amazing.”

“Not as amazing as you, baby,” He murmured, stroking your hair with his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

You gripped Ryujin’s shoulders, much to her pain, because she was trying desperately to pry them away.

“[Y/n], your nails are digging into my skin,” She groaned, and only then did you pull your hands away.

“Sorry, Ryujin.” You ran your down the front of your dress, taking deep breaths to steady your nerves. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“Of course you are,” Yeji shook her head with a smile on her face. “You look beautiful, [Y/n]. You just go out there, walk down the aisle, and tell Dino those two words that will join you forever.”

“Cum inside?” Ryujin asked, earning her a smack from Lia.

“No, I do.” Lia sighed, then turned to look at you. “I’m so glad you chose us to be your bridesmaids.”

“Yeah!” Yuna agreed, then shuffled around Chaeryeong and Yeji so she was next to you. “By the way, when you throw the bouquet, is there any chance you can sum it towards me?”

“She won’t see us, Yuna. There’s no way she’ll know who she’s throwing at.” Chaeryeong said with a quiet sigh. “I’m really so happy for you, [Y/n]. Dino is the perfect match for you.”

Yeah, if you heard her say that a few months ago, you would not have believed her. You might have even questioned why she would say such a thing. But after everything you and Dino have been through, you could finally agree.

Your father approached you and the girls, a smile on his face as he looked at you. “Oh honey, you look so beautiful. I never thought this day would come.” This was the first time you had seen your dad smile in years.

“What a gorgeous bride. Oh dear, I’m so happy for you,” Your mother cried, holding your head in your hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t help but smile seeing your parents so happy, and all because of you.

“Thank you Mother, thank you Father.”

Yuna gasped, and everyone turned to look at her. “It’s starting!”

Your father looked at you, nodding. “Alright honey. Are you ready?”

You let out the breath you had been keeping in for a while. “Ready as I��ll ever be.” He pulled your veil over your head, intertwining his arm with yours. The two of you walked down the aisle, and you could hear the gasps and murmurs of everyone in the audience as you walked past them, all eyes on you in that present moment, especially Dino’s

Once you felt your father’s arm leave yours, you turned yourself to the right, faintly making out Dino’s face behind your veil. He reached forward, flipping the veil behind your head, his eyes softening when he got a look at your face.

“You look so gorgeous,” he whispered, and you smiled even brighter.

“And you look so handsome,” you whispered back, Dino trying to bite back the smile that continued to grow on his face.

The ceremony was beautiful, a bit longer than you had thought it would be, but it was fine with you, because Dino looked really good in that tuxedo.

“Prince Dino, do you take Princess [Y/n] to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for to love and to cherish; from this day forward?”

Dino’s hands gripped yours tighter as he nodded, staring deeply into your eyes. “I do.”

“And do you, Princess [Y/n], take Dino to be your lawfully wedded husband, in good times and bad, in joy as well as sorry, till death do you part?”

You nodded, looking back at Dino with just as much love in your eyes as he was doing with you. “I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I nor pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The crowd before you all cheered as Dino cupped your head in his hands and pulled you forward for a kiss. This kiss felt different from the way he had kissed you before, again. This one was passionate, loving, now the two of you were complete. It was perfect.

Later on, after much cake a little drinking, and watching Lia and Yuna fight over the bouquet after you threw it between both of them, you and Dino were still waltzing on the dance floor in the middle of the rest of the guests, holding each other impossibly close, that longing love-struck look still in both of your eyes.

“I can’t believe I get to call you my wife, now,” Dino mumbled, spinning you around. You hummed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “My perfect, pretty, sweet wife.”

“Oh stop it,” You laughed. “Sweet is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?”

“Not at all, baby. I think you’re very sweet.” He said, then pulled you closer. “In more ways than one. Speaking of which, I can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight.”

“Again?” You asked, but you still anticipated what he would have in store for you. “You’re insatiable.”

“Well now that you’re all mine, how am I supposed to help myself?”

You just smiled and shook your head. He should be so lucky that he loved you. But then again, maybe he didn’t need to be. Not when you loved him back just as much. Forever and always, till death do you part.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #svt x reader #lee chan #svt lee chan #svt dino #seventeen dino #dino smut #lee chan smut #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #dino fluff #dino angst #svt fluff #seventeen imagines

[duhnova]

someone new - lee chan

song inspo: enchanted - taylor swift 

warning(s): angst, tiny bit of fluff?

synopsis: love has always been hard for you but with chan it seemed easy, until it wasn’t.

heart to heart vday collab masterlist

when you and chan met it seemed like the world had slowed down for you. it was enchanting, really. he was surrounded by his friends in a cramped night club when his eyes caught yours from across the room. your shy smile seemed to draw him in as he pushed through the crowd to introduce himself. 

no one wanted to believe him when he said he met a girl that night and none of your friends could believe that you gave a loser like him your number. but there was something about the aloof smile he gave you after he almost tripped walking up to you that had you hooked. that’s why you found yourself out in the middle of the night a lot with the windows down blasting all your favorite songs while he drove you two around the city till the sun came out. 

no one understood the connection the two of you had but they didn’t need to. the only thing anyone needed to know was that you were in love and you hoped chan was too. 

it was safe to say it was hard to understand lee chan sometimes, even when you two were as close as your feet to the ground were. or maybe you two were as close as the moon and sun considering you never knew he had a crush. at least all his friends made it out to be a crush. 

chan never spilled the beans on who it was and you hoped it was because he liked you and he was just terrified to ruin your guys’ friendship - which is something you two didn’t have in common. 

one night you decided enough was enough, you were finally going to confess to him and what better way than to do it on valentines day - even if it was a little cliche. you had the whole night planned out, from the second you two woke up to right now. it was dinner time and you asked chan to meet you at a restaurant that you had spent weeks getting a reservation at. 

you and chan had come separately because you had some last minute things you needed to take care of, such as the freshly polished silver chain you had tucked away in the pocket of your long coat. you remembered chan eyeing it awhile ago when you two had taken a trip to the mall to buy someone a gift and when you two had split ways you ran back to the shop to buy it - even if it costed you almost your whole car payment (chan was worth it after the years he had been putting up with you). 

a couple more minutes were spent in your cars as you fixed your appearance a little, smoothing down fly hairs and straightening out your clothes. you wanted to look as good as possible, even though you know chan wouldn’t care if you had shown up in a hoodie and leggings. 

it felt like an eternity as you walked into the restaurant and followed the waitress to the table where chan was already sitting, his normally messy hair slicked back as he talked quietly on the phone with someone. you waited patiently for him to be finished before you made yourself known. 

“chan!” he almost jumps out of his seat as you laugh quietly at how startled he got.

“i thought i was going to have a heart attack.” he lets out a dramatic sigh as he smiles back at you, watching you take a seat across from him. 

“you clean up good.” you whistle lowly at his appearance, he definitely looked a lot more dressed up than you. 

“oh thanks.” he blushes lightly as he scratches his cheek - a nervous habit he picked up a while ago. “you look pretty.” he offers you a shy smile. 

“thank you.” it's your turn for your face to start heating up as you pick up the menu to look at their drink selection. “do you know what you’re going to order yet?” chan hums quietly as he looks back down at his own menu. 

“i was just thinking of having a house salad.” you look up at your best friend curiously. 

“are you not hungry?” you watch him shrug a little before his phone dings quietly, his hands typing away at the screen as he responds to whatever message he got before setting his phone back down and apologizing. 

“i’m trying to save my appetite.” he doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. a small pit begins to form in your stomach as you begin to think that maybe he didn’t want to be there with you. 

“oh?” you tried to keep your voice steady as you went back to looking at your own menu. “if i didn’t know any better i would think that you had another date later.” the silence was a little too long for your liking as you looked back up at chan who was already staring at you wide eyed. “what?” 

“how did you…” you felt your heart stop a little. 

“you have another date later?” you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“i do..” his voice is small before he looks back down at his menu, trying to distract the way your fallen face hurt him. 

“with whoo?” you tried to sound excited for him. 

“her name is lin, we have bio chem together..” his voice shook a little. “she had asked me if i wanted to join her for dinner later and i couldn’t say no..”

“is she the one you have a crush on?” 

“what?” he looks back at you wide eyed like an owl. 

“y’know, seungkwan can’t keep his mouth shut about you liking someone.” the laugh you let out sounded a little bitter before you sighed quietly. “you don’t have to sit here and eat with me if you have plans.” 

“no i want to be here with you i ju-”

“you just want to hang out with lin more, right? i get it.” you offer him the best fake reassuring smile you could muster. “you finally got asked out by a girl for valentines day, you shouldn’t have to spend it with your best friend when you can spend it with her instead.” 

“y/n..” his voice trailed off as he tried to think of what to say, which only made you sigh quietly. 

“just go be with her now chan..” this time your smile was genuine, even if your lips shook as you held back your tears. “enjoy your valentine's day with someone who isn’t me for once.” 

“but i..” his sentence got caught in his throat as he watched you look back down at your menu. “do you really want me to go?” he whispered. you couldn’t trust your voice anymore as you nod your head. a loud silence fell over the two of you as minutes passed by before chan finally stood up, quietly dismissing himself before he left the restaurant. 

a single tear fell down your cheek as you tried to hold your sobs in, not wanting to break down in the middle of the restaurant. why did it have to turn out like this? today was supposed to be the perfect day, where you finally confessed to the love of your life. 

“just… please don’t be in love with her.” you whispered to yourself as you whipped the tear off your face before grabbing your phone to text the one person you knew was free. 

‘jeonghan.. do you want to come have dinner with me and then watch a movie after?’

‘i thought you were out with chan right now?’

‘didn’t go as planned.’ 

‘send me your location’ 

after sending him the name of the restaurant you put in your drink order along with something to drink for jeonghan when he got there. even if you weren’t able to spend valentine's day with the man that enchanted you from day one, at least you were able to spend it with someone who could lighten your mood - even just a little.

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#k-labels #hearttoheartvdaycollab #svthub #dino angst #lee chan angst #seventeen angst

[moonwonuu]

part 5 💌

pov: kung saan iniiwasan mo si chan

taglist: @nyanwoo @qghosty

#lee chan x reader #lee chan fluff #lee chan angst #lee chan imagines #dino fluff #dino imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt angst #svt imagines