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strayflowersstarsandlove · 4 months ago

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Kiki's delivery service (bangchan)

Rearranging your legs underneath you for the 5th time, you squish your cheek onto Chan's pectoral, breathing in the delicate scent of his laundry detergent and his cologne. Pain will make you miserable and achy but it won't ruin your Friday night with him. It's imperative.

Chan has usually so little time off you jumped at any occasion to spend a quiet night in forcing him to catch up on Studio Ghibili movies. He needed the culture and you needed the lazy late night cuddles on the couch. Period pain be damned.

"You've been quiet an awful lot tonight...", Chan mumbles softly, not fully averting his eyes from the screen as he leans in to kiss your temple, "is everything okay?", he asks, subtly referencing the fact that you and Jisung had basically ganged up on him and forced him to begin his journey through Miyazaki works of art. And also the fact that you'd usually ended up spoiling every single scene for him cause you needed to explain everything into the tiniest little details.

Also also referencing the fact that you tended to go silent whenever you were suffering. Whether it was mental pain or physical pain, you tried your best to power through it, grit your teeth and stubbornly keep going until you were on the brink of another mental breakdown.

He was always there to pick up your pieces and glue them back together. And you loved him for it, even though you felt bad for making him feel like you were another one of his responsibilities, someone he had to take care of, but you were so grateful for him as well and it wasn't like you could really help it, he had this deeply rooted nurturer in him that made him care for you so effortlessly whether you wanted him to or not.

Chan was also super attentive and perceptive. He picked up on every single one of your little details and quirks and peculiarities. Which meant that he definitely knew you weren't okay at the moment, he was just gently letting you know... without letting you know.

You sigh as another stab of pain hits your lower abdomen and it makes you squeeze your eyes shut and hiss in pain, what a perfect timing to just blatantly lie to your very smart very intuitive boyfriend: "yeah, yeah everything's fine. Just tired".

Chan ponders for a second before deciding to just take the matter into his own hands. By literally doing so. He pauses Kiki's Delivery Service just as Kiki's flying on her broom above the ocean with the seagulls and cradles you in his arms until you're sitting in between his thighs.

Which is very normal behavior for cuddle monster Channie.

Until he just stills for a second, hands hovering over your torso, legs pressed firmly against yours so you can't move. And then he attacks you with tickles.

The air in your lungs is sucked out so fast you're crying laughing one second and gasping and wheezing the next: "PLZEASE CH-CHANAHAHAHAHAH I'M HAHAHA I'M - I'M DYING".

And you're not even exaggerating. Your tummy was already aching and your muscles tense that the added strain and effort of catching your breath makes your stomach do somersaults in between the sharp daggers digging at your uterus.

You try to squirm and thrash out of his grasp to no avail, "hahaha tell me the truth and I'll spare you hahaha, that's your only way out", he laughs and squeaks and if it wasn't for the fact that you're currently focusing all your energies on not passing out from the pain and the laughter you would have already jumped at his neck and kissed him silly because of how cute he sounds: "FIN-AHAHA FINE YOU HAHAHA YOU-AH YOU WIN HAHAHA".

He immediately stops and settles you back down in your former spot, hugging your sides and patting your tummy until you calm down your breathing again. You inhale deeply, grimacing a little from the pain, your hand reflexively reaching for his own as you give it a little squeeze.

"I'm about to get my period. I've been silently crying and screaming at myself for the last couple of hours. And you're fucking perceptive and I can't hide anything from you", you pout, finally spitting out the truth, "okay... And you didn't tell me because?", he goads on, sighing you turn to face him, kind eyes and an encouraging smile on his lips as he holds you close, "because... I feel like you already have so many things to worry about, you're always taking care of me and the boys and working over time and stressing about everything, I don't want to add onto that".

The man with impossibly perfect features sighs right back at you, not in an annoyed manner, more a self assured one:"you're not adding onto anything, y/n. You're the only person I can actually fully relax and just be me, just be Chris with. No idol duties, no leader ones, no big brother or producer or captain of everything ones. I don't HAVE to take care of you, I WANT to. I want you to be happy and well looked after and in a way it's even selfish, cause if you're happy and thriving then I'm happy and thriving, it's like an osmosis thing", he giggles.

You turn in your seat and playfully roll your eyes at him as you cup his cheeks and peck his lips, "there's not an ounce of selfishness in your entire body, babe. And you have a pretty god damn gorgeous body, at that".

He giggles so loudly he starts squeaking again, triggering your cuteness aggression. You kiss him all over his face and nibble at his reddened ears, you only stop once he's gone completely silent laughing, breath hitching, the most perfect pearly whites on full show as he smiles brightly at you and pulls you flush to his chest, "my baby girl", he sighs, his voice barely above a whisper, "I promise you don't stress me out at all, and that I like taking care of you", he insists, leaning in to kiss you, "now, is your tummy hurting really bad? Is there anything I can do to help? Belly rubs? A heating pad? Painkillers? ".

You know you'll never win this battle. You know he'll never stop making you feel alllll the butterflies no matter what he says or does cause it's just second nature to him being this kind and wholesome. You shake your head lightly and stroke his cheek, "I'll be okay. You're my heating pad", you snicker, positioning yourself with your back fully resting against his chest, his arms coming around you in a swift move,warm hands flat on your tummy.

You reprise the movie and for a while everything seems to be going smoothly. The pangs in your guts are still very much present but your boyfriend gentle rubs on your stomach are surprisingly soothing.

Eyelids fluttering almost close, you feel yourself relaxing more and more, progressively loosing focus on Kiki, much to your dismay. Up until Chan's hand start shifting closer and closer to the waistband of your pants. He acts completely nonchalant about it, one palm still rubbing soft circles over your tummy and the other inching down... down.

A tingling sensation crawling all over you, a warm rush to your chest, you swallow down quietly, feeling the muscles in your neck tensing up by the second, perhaps in anticipation. The rooms quiet, or the sound of your fast heartbeat has just drowned out any other sound, you're not sure, but Chan's quiet. He's very quiet even as he stealthily slips one finger, and then two fingers down underneath your pants, he traces small stripes over the fabric of your underwear, slow at first, his wrist barely flicking.

Thin fingers but rough, finger pads, he starts running his fingertips in circle motion over the areas he deems more sensitive, letting the hitch in your breathing guide the intensity of his motion, the speed of it, the direction of it. As soon as he's satisfied with the way you're reacting to him, he picks up his pace just slightly, a low, satisfied chuckle finally emerging from his mouth when your thighs visibly start to twitch, a boost to his ego, means he's doing something right, very right.

It's as if all the blood in your body starts running faster and faster, rushing through your veins at incredible speed only to then concentrate all at once, all of it at your centre, and with the friction generated there, you can't help but whimper, your abs contracting and relaxing almost spasmodically, the daggers of pain alternating with pleasure that comes in a wave that builds up and up and up.

A trickle of sweat down your spine, you clutch Chan's unoccupied wrist and squeeze, jolting upwards in an arch as you feel yourself approaching your high more and more, "i-I-", words come out of your mouth in whimpers, you try to articulate a single thought but manage nothing even remotely intelligible, Chan's hums softly and kisses your cheek, his lips lingering on your dewy skin, "yes, baby girl? don't hold back, don't hold back and come for me", he taunts in a sing songy voice, cooing and breathing softly in your ear.

And that's enough to send you over the edge.

Choking on the strangled noise bursting out of you, release washes over you. No more pain twisting your guts, just pure bliss.

You close your eyes and relax back into the arms that hold you, breathing hard and laboriously while Chan taps his fingers around the wetness, a satisfied snicker rolling off his lips, the very same lips now kissing your shoulder and the side of your neck so tenderly, "good girl, such a good girl for me eh? you're feeling all better?", he asks sweetly, moving a wisp of your hair away from your face with his unused hand, to which you nod and smile bashfully, still feeling oh so wonderfully numb and light and darn good.

The movie paused, yourself and the couch all cleaned up, you settle back on the leathery seat cushion and finish up the last few drops of your glass of water while Chan himself is cleaning up in the washroom, a stupid smile on your face that you just can't wipe off, you adjust in your seat and cross your arms over your tummy that gargles with unholy sounds of hunger and unrest, perhaps.

And then gushing. Warmth. Not the feel good kind, though.

You jump on your feet and immediately spot the enlarging smear of blood on the couch, a frenzy on panic immediately taking over you just as your boyfriend walks right in: "oh my god I'm so sorry oh my god oh my god I'm.. I'm-mortified oh my god", you start rambling and shaking and hurriedly pat around your inner thighs, growing exponentially alarmed when your palms come back pinkish.

"Hey hey it's okay, y/n it's okay, I promise", Chan promptly scrambles to you and cups your cheeks, locking eyes with you and immediately reading the discomfort in them, "I think you left some tampons in the third drawer of my nightstand, go check, and grab any of my clothes to change into,you'll be okay, it's okay, don't worry about a thing", he reassures, patting your head, that wonderful encouraging smile of his taking up his whole face.

"B-but your couch and-oh my god this is so embarrassing this is awfu-", you start but Chan merely giggles and gently shakes your shoulders, "BABE!!", he exclaims firmly, making you snap out of your panic and fall silent, "stop apologising, start washing up, this is absolutely fine, the couch is going to be just fine. Go, I got this", he instructs in a gentler tone, even winking at you reassuringly.

And you swear that's all you needed. That fragment of complicity, reassuring gesture that instantly calms you down.

The fabric of his shorts goes swish swosh around your knees but it's so soft from wear and tear that you kind of love it, you think to yourself, jogging downstairs and into the kitchen where you find Chan steeping some deliciously smelling tea.

"There she is, did you find your stuff? Are the pants okay?", he asks as soon as you step into his arms once again, the hugging machine within him just acting out of instinct: "yeah, yeah everything's fine. Thank you, and I apologise again, I hope the couch isn't stained forever", you reply meekly, looking down at your feet, "the stain came right out with a single swipe, and even if it didn't I'd be more worried over you not feeling this awful over something you cannot even control".

Butterflies. In your belly and in your heart. Yeah they're never ever leaving.

You look up into the kindest gaze and smile, bewildered at your immense luck in having Chan as your partner, "how are you so perfect Chris? Like seriously, you're the perfect mix of loving and kind and funny as hell and empathetic and hot and smart and mature and absolute fucking perfection how do you even exist?", you exclaim dramatically, eyes wide and heart shaped over this very man holding you into his arms, who now giggles loudly and leans in to peck your lips," I don't think I'm the perfect boyfriend yet, but I'm working on it. You make it really easy though, you make it a happy process too", he gushes, kissing your lips first and then the tip of your nose.

"Shall we go back to Kiki and her deliveries now? I made us some tea so it'll keep the cramps at bay if they're still bothering you", he suggests then, lacing his arm around your waist so he can lead you into the living room.

You both settle in your former seat arrangement and you smirk to yourself despise the flush creeping up your cheeks just thinking about what happened there not half an hour ago, "oh those?", you reprise the argument about your cramps, "vanished. Disappeared. Non existent. Your little trick earlier... I think you worked some kind of magic on me I don't know", you declare, and Chan bursts into laughs, the tips of his ears going bright red, pride and flustered giddiness both coexisting in him at the moment, the epitome of a perfectly complex man.

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