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destructiveasparagus · 2 years ago

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This was absolutely STUNNING. STUNNING, I tell you. The author really put their blood, sweat and tears into the dialogue. The dialogue was a really huge part of this fic and it was *chef's kiss*. Crafted to perfection, this fic was. Absolutely filthy — put me in such a dream-like headspace. Love love love!

♡ A Good Bad Day ♡

Author's note: thank you for 1.5k followers! This is a reupload (with edits) of one the most favourite fics I've ever written. It was written around the time Chan replied to the person who asked him to pin them to the wall to say "please" and the whole fandom went feral. I only incorporated that part at the end because I was already done with the fic for my lovely ♡ chanonie ♡ from my other blog, who is now my dear friend. Enjoy ♡

Characters: Chan x Y/N

Warnings: smut, minors dni. Unprotected sex, slight anxious scenes, loving and leaving scents, dirty talk, pet names: princess, baby, pussy eating, fingering, and a healthy appreciation of Chris' amazing big nose, Chan fucks you in his hoodie and he has a thing for your scent + leaving his scent on you like he's a fucking wolf. Lots of praising. Lots. Of. Praising. Dirty talk too.

Word count: 6.8k

All the people in your life are busy. To be fair, you are too, but the thought of burdening someone with your problems makes you grimace in annoyance with yourself. Especially at the thought of sharing your problems with your boyfriend, the certified-by-all-and-himself as the busiest individual in JYP.

You’ve just had the lousiest day. First, it was when you forgot to turn on the charger, so your phone’s basically dead. And then of course you were late for class because alarms don’t work on dead phones, which in turn resulted in your professor making you answer all his questions throughout as compensation. You consider it public humiliation, especially because the introvert in you just hate having to talk in front of crowds and not to mention, his questions were fucking hard – you only got 1 correct out of the 7 questions he made you answer.

Oh, one would think that’s the end of a lousy day but no, no, no. Once classes end, you finally check your social media only to be greeted with rumours of your very friendly boyfriend allegedly in a relationship with a very pretty and basically perfect female idol; hint: his best friend Sana. All because you lent her a hoodie that you forgot your boyfriend bought as a matching set for the both of you.

Stupid y/n. Now you’re not only having a bad day but the PR team for Stray Kids and Twice, and not to mention Stray Kids and Twice themselves would probably be too. Good job, stupid brain. Way to go!

If only you could be like Joey in his Dr. Drake Ramoray character and have a fucking brain transplant… how nice would that be?

Because now you’re just stuck with this current brain that’s just so anxious, waiting for your boyfriend to come home, so you could apologise even when he reassured you multiple times that the little hoodie slip up happens and it’s not really a big issue because they have the best PR team when it comes to dating scandals.

So, you do the only thing you can do, which is sit in front of the stand fan, on the floor and just watch the blades go round and round, round and round, round and round. Somehow this is the most therapeutic thing you can do right now, and if it doesn’t work, you’ll go and stare at the ten lava lamps Chan bought for you all because you mentioned to him that you like to see pretty jello-like lights.

You really don’t know how you managed to snatch this man from every woman in this universe. But as much as you think you don’t deserve him, you’re one selfish girl who would never let him go. You would never in your right mind let this man go. Because no matter how much you mess up or how much he does, he would always find a way to make it work.

His understanding, although sometimes very anxious, nature is what makes the both of you work. And you want to always make it work.

But your mind today is just filled with disappointment in yourself that you are even considering ending the relationship because Chan would be better without you, right?

You're deep in your negative thoughts, the fan just becoming a prop in your mind rather than the distraction you badly needed.

“The wheels in your head are moving just as fast as those blades, princess.”

Chan’s voice startles you, making you jump in your sitting position, head nearly hitting the fan if it were not for Chan’s fast reflexes. He has a protective hand on your forehead, keeping you in place as he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

He plops himself onto the floor, legs spread in between you so that he could trap you in his embrace.

“Chris,” you say, wanting to greet him properly but you can feel the heat of incoming tears coming up to your face, so you only trust yourself to say his name.

“Hi, y/n, my pretty princess,” he says, and you can feel the smile in his words. Chan props his chin on your right shoulder, nose playfully nudging and rubbing your cheek.

You whine, not feeling so pretty at the moment, especially not mentally. “I’m sorry, Chan,” you corak out, voice shaky, turning your head to look at your boyfriend who now has a worried look on his face.

“I told you, baby. Everything’s okay. Especially because it’s not true. I’m not dating Sana, my best friend. I am dating y/n, the prettiest princess, my soulmate and my little hoodie stealer,” he reassures you, making you giggle a little at his last statement.

“I didn’t mean to give her the hoodie,” you pout. “We were hanging out here and she was cold and I didn’t have other clean ones, so I gave it to her. I forgot how fans can be detectives, I should’ve been more careful,” you try to explain your side, wanting Chan to know that you really didn’t mean to cause such issues.

“I know, pretty princess. I figured as much. But everything’s okay. It’s been taken care of,” he tells you, hand now wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t worry, you trust your Channie, right? So, believe me when I say everything’s okay.”

You nod timidly, your boyfriend’s reassuring words finally allow yourself to melt into his hold.

“How long have you been on the floor, baby? Isn’t it cold?” Chan asks, voice laced with concern. With not much effort on his part, he slips an arm under your butt and with his other hand on your waist, he pulls you up from the floor for a brief moment as he crosses his legs and then softly places you on his lap, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“Channie, you surprised me,” you him, pinching the non-existent fat on his arm.

“Mmm, you love it,” the man chuckles, burying his head on the crook of your neck. “How’s your day, baby?” Chan asks like the best boyfriend that he is.

You sigh, not knowing if you should really tell him or not. You know Chan appreciates honesty but wouldn’t push you if you didn’t want to talk about things. But his soft touch, rubbing softly on the side of your waist makes you want something else rather than talking.

You haven’t had much alone time with him in a while. He’s been really busy, with the new album promotions and the preparations for the world tour. Chan does try to go to your apartment every night, except for when practice ends too late or when his creative juices either help him or mess with him in the studio.

But times like this, you and him, sitting close together, being literally glued to the hip – this is rare. And you miss it. You miss him.

“I missed you, Christopher,” you say in a whisper, neck turning to rest your forehead on his. You can see him smiling at your confession.

“I missed you too, my princess. So so much,” he replies, his big palm resting on the side of your face, caressing softly. “How’s your day been, pretty girl?” he asks, knowing too well that it hasn’t been the best for you. You only post photos of the sky when you’re upset, despite your captions sounding cheerful and only praising how beautiful the sky looks.

You sigh at his question. You should be the one asking him. Compared to yours, his life is pretty much a million times more hectic, more deserving of attention.

“It’s been okay. Just not thrilled about causing a dating scandal between you and Sana,” you tell him, choosing to avoid talking about the other things that happened, which now you find miniscule in the presence of your boyfriend.

“I told you, pretty girl. It’s okay. It’ll die down. It happens,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your nose.

“I’m sorry, Channie,” you apologise once again, to which he makes a soft shushing sound, peppering more kisses on the side of your face. “How about you? How has your day been?” you ask.

Chan does a little tsk sound at your question. “We always talk about me. I wanna know about your day. You know I love hearing your experiences just as much as you love hearing mine.”

“But it’s the same thing everyday for me.”

“Yet you always want to hear about what happens at the routine dance practices and vocal lessons.”

“They’re exciting!”

“Your classes and your thesis preparation presentations are exciting to me!”

You whine at his reply. This cheeky man always knows how to get what he wants.

“Well, today isn’t as exciting. Ready to hear it?” you huff, still feeling silly because you just know you would start crying when you tell him about your day.

“Always ready for my princess,” he chuckles, giving you a slight nod.

You take a deep breath, wanting to prepare yourself. You place the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth as preparation, in case you start tearing up.

“Well, I forgot to turn on the power outlet for my charger, so my alarm.. It didn’t work.. And when I got to class, everyone stared, then my professor.. He.. he made me answer a lot of questions, but I can’t-” you tell him but your voice cracks when you try to tell him about the incident in class.

You hate feeling stupid. You hate when you’re seen as stupid, especially in front of people. The anxious and humiliated feeling you felt when you couldn’t answer questions in front of a full lecture hall comes dawning back to you, and you can’t stop the tears from flowing.

Chan panics a little at this. She must have had a really rough day, he thinks to himself. But this is good. Chan has always had to coax it out of you because you would always make sure he gets engrossed in telling you about his day. He’s glad you managed to tell him without much coaxing today, making him feel trusted.

“Oh, princess. Slowly, slowly. You can do this,” he tells you, wanting you to finish your sentence.

You take a deep breath, but the sobs won’t stop, so you just turn your body and straddle your boyfriend, wanting to just cling onto him and bury your face on his shoulder so he wouldn’t need to see your face.

“My pretty princess, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he tells you, hands now on your hips as you straddle him, knowing how you need to be in his hold rather than have him try to make you talk.

You continue sobbing, no longer feeling the need to suppress your emotions because you know Chan’s there with you. He’s there with you no matter how silly you think you’re being.

So you sit there, on his lap, both on the floor as he rubs your back, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

If you thought you were being silly for having these thoughts, you feel even sillier for thinking your boyfriend wouldn’t understand.

Chan’s your safe space, just as you are his.

♡♡♡♡♡

“There you go,” Chan says in a cheerful voice after he helps you wash your face. “My pretty girl, let me help put on your moisturizer,” he says in a sing-song voice, making you giggle.

You don’t say no to that, somehow the feeling of wanting to be pampered is just too strong for you to push away. Not to mention how the little splashes of water has made Chan’s shirt cling onto his chiseled body makes you pray a little, so that he would want to initiate some intimacy today in the bedroom because you’re too shy to ask.

“Got it,” Chan announces, jogging his way back to the bathroom after taking the moisturizer that you put in your school bag. His eyes are fixed on your smaller frame, looking so pretty in his shirt and that little pair of shorts that is covered by how big his shirt is on you.

“Got it,” you repeat his words for no reason, reaching out your hand to get the moisturizer but he pulls away from you.

“Nope, your boyfriend is going to put it on you,” he says, smiling. You giggle at his cuteness but agree anyway.

“Okay but you need to be really thorough, need to massage the moisturizer properly, so it absorbs into my skin,” you tell him, redoing your tied up hair that’s getting loose.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he tells you but you know Chan’s also thinking about something else, something that’s not about applying the moisturizer on your face.

You look at him, waiting, wanting to see how this pans out. But when Chan shakes his head a little, as if to break himself free from his thoughts, you frown a little. Luckily, Chan’s fast enough to catch it.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, secretly hoping you would say something that would eventually lead him to at least eating you out. But he doesn’t want to push it. He knows you’ve had a bad day and just really wants to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.

“Nothing,” you tell him in a whisper, turning to the mirror and turning on the faucet to wash your hands even when it’s basically clean from the wash you just did not even 5 minutes ago.

“Be honest with me, baby,” he tells you, engulfing you in a back hug. He feels a little guilty for being turned on at how much smaller you are compared to him but he can’t help it. He misses you. He misses getting to touch you.

You just shake your head, not wanting him to hear your thoughts. It’s enough embarrassment for today. You’ve been honest with him about the rough day you had, you can save your dirty thoughts for another day.

But what stuns you a little is when you feel something hard pressing against your backside.

Chan’s hard. Chan’s hard. Chan’s hard and you’re very happy to know that.

“How about you be honest on what’s happening in your pants there, Mr. Bang?” you tease him, giggling at your own sudden change of behaviour. He must really like seeing you in his shirt.

Chan chuckles, pinching your side, making you yelp. “What’s wrong with the happenings in my pants, Miss y/l/n? I don’t suppose you want to check it out - or do you?” he teases, making your face flush. You can never get the upper hand with this man. He just knows how to make you putty in his hands. And the hardness pressing against your ass is not helping your case.

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything, baby. I’m happy to get to spend time with you. And make you feel happy from your long day,” he tells you softly, detaching his lower side from yours but it only earns him a whine.

Chan raises an eyebrow, smiling at how cute you’re being.

“Or I can also make you happy… in other ways,” he cautiously adds, wanting to give you the other option that he, too, craves.

You make eye contact with him in the mirror and your little nod, accompanied with a breathy and needy sounding “Yes, Chris,” is all Chan needs to hear before he leads you to the bed, moisturizer forgotten on the sink.

You’ll have to wash up again after this anyway, so why bother, right?

♡♡♡♡♡

Chan has you sit on the edge of the bed, legs spread with your shorts already off, leaving you in his shirt and your white lacy panties.

“Such a beautiful princess,” he praises you, on his knees, eyes raking your clothed body. God, he’s just so in love with you. And the contrast of his black shirt with your white panties just makes his cock throb with need to rip the clothes off of your body.

But not yet. He wants to try something out with you tonight.

“Tell me, princess. What do you want me to do?” he asks, knowing how shy you get. And you just whine at his instruction, making him chuckle.

“Too shy? But look at you, already wet, soaking through the pretty panties you wore for me as an apology for giving someone the hoodie I bought for us,” he teases, pressing his forefinger onto the wet spot, making you squirm.

“Channie,” you whine and moan out his name, feeling sensitive. You don’t really touch yourself, not being able to cum without having Chan tell you what to do. And him touching you just a little bit like this drives you crazy.

“I’m here, baby. Just have to tell me what you need,” he tells you, tone soft and levelled, different from how needy you are. “You can do it, baby. My lovely princess can tell me what she needs, can’t she?”

You try to nod, breath stuck at your throat. His finger feels so good pressing onto your clothed pussy, your mind getting fuzzy at how hot your body feels, wanting nothing but for your boyfriend to fuck your worries away.

“Then tell me, princess. Only good little girls get treats, and I know you’re the best girl there is, the only girl for me,” he praises again, knowing how much you like it, and how much he himself loves it. You moan at the praise, feeling good at the thought of being the best girl for Chan, the only girl for him.

“You, want you,” you tell him, trying to spread your legs wider for him to get the hint, not that he doesn’t.

“Pretty princess wants me? Hmm, maybe you want me here,” he says, touching your hand, “or here,” your thigh, “or here,” your lower lips.

“Anywhere, anywhere,” you tell him, desperate. You know so well he’s just teasing you because he knows it gets you so wet. And it’s apparent how this little chasing game of his is affecting you because you physically feel yourself getting wetter, your natural lubricant flowing in such a generous amount that you know Chan would have no problems impaling your needy hole with his thick cock.

“Anywhere? I’m guessing my pretty princess also wants me here,” he says, fingers teasingly drumming over your clothed cunt. “Look at you, so pretty like this. I almost can’t get mad at how you let someone else wear the hoodie I bought for you,” he teases, earning another whine from you.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, small fingers raking through his curly locks, the fading blue only means he would be keeping his little promise to you of dyeing his hair black – a promise he made when you let him cum on your face and let him lick your face clean, which is totally worth it.

“Mmm, I sleep in all the hoodies I give you because I know my princess likes to smell me. Why do you think they’re all a little stretched out?” Chan chuckles, knowing that he purposely keeps this information to himself just because he feels good doing these little things to make you happy without you knowing. But he thinks it’s time for you to know that because he only wants you to wear the clothes he specifically stretched out and make smell like himself.

The revelation makes you whine in protest, wanting to call Sana right away so she would never use the hoodie again until the day she gives it back to you.

“Jerked off in the new one I gave you too, so don’t give that one away to anyone,” he tells you, swiping your panties to the side, revealing your glistening cunt to him. “Oh my pretty princess. My pretty little princess with the prettiest pussy.”

“Fuck, Chris, please,” you moan, mind filled with the thought of your boyfriend wearing the small hoodie that must have been really tight on his body, jerking off to the thought of you. Your man is full of surprises, and the dirty ones just make their way to your heart and cunt at the same time.

“Look at you, all wet for me. So soft too,” Chan groans, giving an experimental swipe on your pussy lips, making you tug on his curly locks harder.

“Chris!” you moan, feeling yourself getting so needy that you can just pull this man’s face and bury it in your cunt.

“Patience, princess. Gotta admire this perfect pussy first, don’t I? Haven’t touched your princess parts for a while now, need to test if you still remember me,” he gives you a sly smile before snapping your panties back in place.

“No, no, please,” you beg, not wanting Chan to leave you like this but the man just chuckles at your reaction.

“Oh my sweet baby, I’m here. Channie’s here. Just need to take off your panties, yeah?” he smiles, getting up to give you a sweet kiss on the lips to calm you down. You melt into it, his lips moving against yours does indeed calm you down, making it really easy for Chan to take off your panties.

“There we go,” Chan says, smiling against your lips as you feel his fingers spreading your pussy lips apart.

“Let’s appreciate how wet you are before I lick it all up,” he tells you, crouching back down so he’s face to face with your cunt. “Fuck,” you hear him curse, making you shiver at how low his voice is and how you can feel his breath on your pussy.

“Won’t you look at that, what a pretty pussy. You’re getting wetter, baby, look at you leaking on the sheets,” he teases and praises at the same time, making you whimper in shyness.

“Don’t be shy, love. You just need to let me lick you up and then make you cum, so that you’ll be even wetter for my cock,” Chan says, eyes looking into yours.

You nod, giving him a definite “Yes, please,” and Chan is not Chan if he doesn’t dive into your cunt like an eager puppy.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Chris!” you moan, your elbows giving up on you when Chan starts licking, making you lay flat on your back, hand fisting the sheets as you let your boyfriend eat you out.

Chan’s amazing with his tongue, as he is with everything else. But his tongue plus his nose nudging your clit just makes being eaten out a heavenly experience you can never say no to. And the fact that your boyfriend just loves slurping up your juices makes you feel like a real princess who’s being served on a platter for the hungry prince.

Slurping sounds fill the room, Chan’s tongue licking you up nothing short of a man starved, every lick resulting in him trying to reach deeper into your hole, his only aim is to make you feel good.

And God, you feel really good.

The way he’s fucking his toungue into you, the way his nose rubs against your clit and sometimes when he’s being too eager, he gets messy and accidentally has his nose buried into your hole but it all feels fucking good that your whole body shakes. No more teasing Chan, this is just full blown hungry Chan who wants nothing but to pleasure his woman.

Chan has his palms spreading you open because he knows his little princess gets so squirmy when he has his head down between her thighs, always trying to squeeze his head. He usually doesn’t mind it because his little princess is not that strong to crush his head – and to be honest he likes the dizziness that comes after being free of her thighs sandwiching his head, an euphoric feeling that not many enjoy – but he doesn’t want his ears to be blocked because that means he wouldn’t be able to hear your moans clearly.

“Chris, oh, Chris, you’re so- so good!”

“Oh God, ngh, I- Chan, Chris-!”

“Ah, ah, ah Chan- fuck, you’re- God!”

He loves hearing you all fucked out, not being able to even form coherent sentences because of how much you love him going down on you. Chan might be insecure about his big nose but he definitely knows how to make use of it when he’s licking your pussy clean.

Chan pulls his face away and if you were looking at him right now, you would see your juices messy on his cheeks and chin, shining under the dim neon lights you bought to match Chan’s. But you weren’t because you couldn’t keep your head upright, couldn’t even force yourself to keep watching Chan giving you the head of your life because it feels too good, you nearly pass out from the pleasure.

“Pretty princess, look at me,” Chan says and you open your eyes slowly, greeted with the sight of Chan who already has his shirt off. What a nice surprise.

“You did so well, baby. So, so well. Letting me eat you out and giving me your sweet juices. You’re such a good princess,” he praises, making you pull your legs together to have some stimulation on your cunt.

“I'm good princess," you breathe out, trying to catch your breath from Chan's heavenly tongue.

Chan smiles as he looks at you, already fucked out without even having his cock. Oh how cuter and prettier would you be when he finally lets you enjoy his cock, lets you take his cock like the pillow princess that he loves.

"You are. Such a good princess. The best princess," he coos at you, making you purr in delight.

“Doing so good for me. No more thinking you’re stupid, okay? You’re the smartest, most hardworking princess I know. Got it, love?” he adds, going up to face you, his big frame making you feel so small, so safe.

You nod, eyes staring into his shiny ones. “Kiss. Need you,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear, needy enough for him to fulfill your wishes without a second thought.

He kisses you again, lips molding into yours. The kiss is more passionate, the both of you needy for each other. And Chan channels all his love to you through the kiss, biting your lips just because he needs you to gasp, so he can taste your mouth with his tongue.

And he does. His tongue dances with yours, making you taste yourself and eliciting soft gasping sounds from you. But gasps turn into moans when you feel Chan slowly pushing in a finger into your cunt while he continues to kiss you.

Your hands automatically grips onto his shoulders, head thrown back, no longer kissing your boyfriend as you succumb into the heavenly feeling of his thick finger prodding into your hole.

“Chan,” you moan, chest heaving, heavily breathing at the euphoric intrusion, trying to keep your eyes open because you know Chan loves it when you look at him as he fingers you.

“There you go, princess. Taking my finger in so well, aren’t you?” he praises, pushing his middle finger in and out of you softly.

“F-fuck,” you moan, more like a whimper. It feels too good. His finger reaches deeper than yours ever will and it’s been a while since he took his time with you like this, slowly fucking his finger in and out of your cunt.

“Such a pretty girl with a cute little cunt,” he says, voice raspy, mind thinking of how good it would feel when he has you clenching around his cock. “Want another one? My princess wants another finger?” Chan asks, finger fucking into you faster.

“Yes, yes, ano-another. P-please,” you stutter out your response, mind only filled with the thought of Chan’s fingers filling your hole.

Chan smiles sweetly at your response but instead of giving you what you want, he takes out his finger.

“Nggh, no, Channie,” you whine, nearly sobbing at the loss of something in your hole. But Chan just gives you a kiss to calm you down.

“I need to get a good look at your cunt now, baby. Need to see how pretty your hole stretches around my fingers,” he tells you, kneeling on the bed so that he can see your body.

Slowly, Chan inserts his forefinger and middle finger into your cunt, only to take them out again. He repeats this three times, all the while watching how pretty your hole tries to accommodate his fingers, and all the while listening to your pretty moans pleading him to do something.

“Channie, channie, please, please no teasing,” you beg him, hips bucking to chase his withdrawing fingers only to get playful taps on your pussy lips.

“But you get so wet and needy when I tease, princess,” he chuckles, continuing his light taps. “Don’t look at me like that, baby. My princess can handle a little more, can’t she?” Chan tells you softly but his tone does nothing to hide his devious act.

This teasing man will get a taste of his own medicine now, you think to yourself.

“I- I can. But- need you in me. Nee-need any part of you in me. Need to remind my princess parts who they belong- belong to, right?” you say, the little stutter goes unnoticed by Chan because now he’s just stunned at your sudden change of demeanour.

Chan’s eyes glimmer with mischief and adoration, his naughty fingers stopping their little game and now changing it to another level, putting just his fingertips in and never more as you say those words.

“Need to– need to have you now, Chris-Christopher,” you breathe, little fingers holding the edge of his shirt that you’re wearing and slowly dragging it up bit by bit. “You’ll take– take me, right? Make me– make me forget bout my day. Make me take your- your cock?”

And that does it for Chan. He grips your hand, taking it away from your little striptease, leaving his shirt on your body but resting on the bunched up fabric on your chest, your underboobs showing.

Without a word, he starts to finger fuck you. Hard and fast, as hard and as fast as your greedy cunt allows him. The squelching noises are even louder, paired with your pleasureful screams of his name and his grunts, his fingers relentless and your moans that fill the room just motivates him to make you cum like this.

“That’s it, princess. Take my fingers, there you go, God, look at you,” he rasps. “You like this, you do, hmm? So pretty for me,” he keeps on praising, making you moan louder, your restricted hands make the only option for you to keep yourself grounded is to curl your toes onto the mattress, messing up the sheets even more.

Your boyfriend is giving it to you hard. After all the teasing, you’re more than satisfied with the turn of events. Your hips keep bucking up because of how good your boyfriend’s fingers feel inside you, consistently nudging that sweet spot inside, always knowing how to curl and aim just right to make you see stars.

“Chan, Chris, God please,” you moan, not even producing full sentences. Who are you kidding? You haven’t been talking coherently ever since your boyfriend touched you.

“Can feel you clenching around my fingers, princess. You wanna cum for me?”

“You do, don’t you. Babbling like a cute little baby. God, you’re so pretty like this.”

“Already so fucked out from two fingers, you’re so precious. Such a precious princess with the cutest cunt.”

“Cum and you’ll get my cock, princess.”

And that does it for you. The promise of Chan’s cock and the little rubbing of his thumb onto your clit makes you convulse around his fingers, making him chuckle at you lovingly.

“Good girl, what a good girl. There you go, there you go,” Chan soothes you, slowly bringing you down from your high. But you need more, you need Chan’s cock.

His grip on your hands is loose, so you wiggle yourself out of his hold and circle his neck, bringing the man close to your face, the sudden movement makes him withdraw his fingers from inside your hole, you can feel the wetness from his fingers dripping onto your thigh.

“I need you now, need you to make love to me,” you say in one breath, hoping he hears you. Hoping he would let you have his cock.

Chan might be a tease but he knows a deserving princess when he sees one. And you are definitely a princess who deserves to be filled with his cock and cum.

“Anything for my princess,” he tells you, giving you a soft and sensual kiss right after.

Chan lets you go briefly to take off his pants. You lick your lips as he stands in his naked glory, his abs are just asking to be licked and his cock so hard, it bounces on his stomach when he takes off his boxers. Your mouth waters at the sight, wanting nothing more than to suck him off. This beautiful, wonderful man. And all yours to admire and touch.

But when you’re about to take off his shirt that you’re wearing, he stops you. He takes the bunched up fabric and instead of taking it off all the way, he makes you bite it. Now the shirt is between your teeth, tits bare to him.

“Wanna fuck you in my shirt. So I can have something that you’ve cum in and you have something that I’ve cum in,” he tells you and you swear you’re about to have another orgasm just from that. The thought of Chan wanting to have something of his associated with the act of you cumming is just so hot.

You can only give him a desperate nod, loving how sexy but also intimate it is to have him say that. Chan kisses your forehead as a sign of thanks, his cock now hard and ready to fuck you to oblivion.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moans as he prods your entrance with the tip of his cock. Your small frame is more apparent now that he’s about to fuck you with something bigger, something a lot thicker.

You, on the other hand, can only moan through the shirt, now all muffled. Chan keeps on playing with your hole using only the tip of his cock, hissing at how good it feels to have you clench around him.

But his focus is not just on your cunt because now he’s presented with his other favourites; your tits. “Pretty princess with the prettiest cunt and the prettiest tits,” he praises, tongue immediately lapping up your nipples, biting and licking as he has his cock head playing with your entrance.

Your head is just filled with Chan. The way he’s so greedy with your tits but so stingy with your cunt is driving you crazy. But you can’t say anything. The fabric of the shirt that you’re biting is already wet with your saliva but you don’t care, you just want to be good and get Chan to finally fuck you. Make love to you. Anything that involves him shooting his load in you.

“Fuck, fuck, I should just make love to you like this. Tease you with my tip, just like this, fuck!” he groans, head filled with only the thought of cumming inside you. But he knows you want his whole cock in, so when he sees your eyes getting watery, he admits defeat. He can no longer tease his princess, not when she’s been so good and obedient. And especially not when she’s tearing up, all needy and greedy for all his cock to fuck into her cute little cunt.

Chan gives into you, finally, sinking his cock little by little, the stretch so good you let go of the fabric in your mouth, moaning so loudly, telling Chan how good it fucking feels.

“Oh Chan, ah, ah, fuck Chan!” you nearly scream, the stretch too good for you to not let the neighbours know. “Oh fuck, so big, so big,” you say to him, this time reserving the praises all for your amazing man.

“Yeah? You like it don’t you? Like having me stretch your pretty pussy,” he tries to tell you in a confident tone but a man like him is weak when he’s presented with a cute princess like you, what more when he’s engulfed with such warmth from a pussy he wishes he can use everyday.

“Fuck, princess. So fucking wet and tight,” Chan runs his mouth, not caring if he’s just repeating his praises because all he can think of is you. You. you. His one and only princess, one and only love.

You’re no better. Fingers clawing Chan’s back as he starts his thrusts, you being so turned on that he doesn’t need to start so slow, hips already snapping into you, the plan of making love to you thrown out the window.

“Made for me, fucking- fucking made for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” he asks, his cock rubbing against your throbbing walls, the tip finding the sweet spot inside you so fast.

“For you, just you, you Channie,” you answer him, legs that were initially propped up now limp on the bed, just taking what you’re given. Your boyfriend’s cock never disappoints, the girth stretches you out more than you think you could handle but he’s known your body enough to make his big dick an enjoyable experience for you.

“For me, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking sexy. My princess, my fucking baby,” Chan moans, feeling himself already on the edge of cumming but he needs you to reach your high first. His thumb sneakily rubs your clit, and his mouth latches onto your nipple, giving you a lot of stimulation at once, making you cry out in ecstasy.

Your moans bounce off the walls, your brain no longer computing actual words, just meaningless babbles of “Chan”, “Chris”, “cock”, “big”, “full”, “cum” all used separately.

“Gonna cum? My pretty princess wants to cum?” Chan grunts with every thrust, feeling his ego boost because of how you’re now just a mess because of him.

You nod and nod and nod, and with one more push of his cock into the spongy part that makes your eyes roll, your head thrown back as you finally let go, your cunt squeezing Chan’s cock but the man is relentless, he doesn’t stop although you’re already cumming and sobbing at how good it feels to cum around your boyfriend’s cock.

“My. Cunt. Mine. Fucking. Mine,” Chan says with every punishing thrust, his cock hitting the spot in you repeatingly, overstimulating you a little but in the best way.

“Fuck, fuck you’re throbbing around my cock, princess. So good, so good, i’m gonna, gonna fucking cum, make you mine, make you take all of it, all- fuck, fuck fuck!” and your boyfriend finally lets go, hips stuttering as cum shoots from his tip, filling you up just as he promised.

You moan at the warmth, your request of being filled up with your lover’s come finally coming true, and it makes you smile like a dumb puppy, all satisfied.

“Yeah, there you go, there you go, take all of me, all of me,” Chan chants more to himself, still filling you up, always having a lot of cum to give you. He bends down to kiss you, wanting to remind you of his love despite the rather hard fucking he gave you.

You thank every lucky star for your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness – as well as for his kindness, and not to mention amazing cock and stamina, not to forget the copious amount of cum this man can provide your needy self. Only thing you have to do next time is fuck in the hoodie that’s with Sana. Some purification in the form of cumming with it on should be done.

“Thank you, Chris,” you say, voice rather breathless. Chan still has his cock in you, still slowly pushing in and out of you for added stimulation. But his next words make you salivate.

“Oh princess, it’s still too early for appreciation. Now I have to pin you to the wall and fuck all my cum out of you, don’t I? Need to make sure you really forget about the bad day you had.”

You can confidently say that today is actually a good bad day.

"Yes, please."

#bang chan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan imagine #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader

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destructiveasparagus · 2 years ago

Text

Mother of gOD that was extremely well written. Bravo!

route 66. BANG CHAN — 방찬

pair. dom!chan x f. reader | warnings. language, filthy talk, degradation, rough sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, slight daddy kink, angst, anger issues, manipulation, mentions of violence, mentions of cheating | word count. 2.8k | for @skzseasons !S week

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater, @lix-ables, @byskzfilms, @danyxthirstae01, @enluc <3

synopsis. you should’ve known, the moment you’d enter route 66, you’d be his. chan isn’t a generous man—he doesn’t share well.

He spots you across the room.

Chan would find you with his eyes closed, amongst a hundred people. Your body called out to him like nothing else. Many times, he’s had you underneath him, begging—for him, for what he can give you. For what he does give you, without a second thought, all you want, if you behave.

And you do. You’re such a good girl for him, every time. But you’re not his.

He can feel his anger burning in ripples through him—that motherfucker is with you, his hands on you like he has a goddamn claim on you. Chan was sure—if it came down to it, you’d drop that fucking prick in a heartbeat. What Chan also knows—he’s not good for you. He’d never let you ruin your life to be with someone like him.

He averts his gaze, the thought of you being in his club, his blood, sweat and tears, with another man driving him fucking insane with need—to fucking ruin you. Show you who the fuck you’re disrespecting.

Minho was working the bar, making drinks silently, studying his boss, but most importantly—his friend. You’d gone earlier to greet him and pay for two Long Island’s. He knew you brought your boy toy on purpose, had witnessed the fight between you and Chan two weeks ago.

You both were extremely possessive, hotheaded, and would probably never be a complete match. But, fuck, if you two weren’t entirely crazy about each other. The fact you’d come to tease Chan like this, knowing exactly how he’d react, was proof enough.

His boss neared the counter, keeping an eye on the customers. If the customers were you and no one else. Still, Minho couldn’t fault him. This game had been going on for way too long—one of you was bound to crack. He just wishes he doesn’t have to involuntarily witness the inevitable explosion.

“Make sure she doesn’t get too drunk,” Chan growls over the music to the purple haired man.

Minho nods, mixing a Cosmo. “Cool it, yeah? We don’t need a repeat. You got a full house tonight.”

Chan glares at him but says nothing. His eyes say it all—just do as you’re fucking told. Minho chuckles, amused.

“I hope she breaks your fucking heart, Bang Chan,” he mutters, staring straight at him. His friend could fool everyone else around him, but Minho knew him the best of all.

You’d destroyed him for any other girl. He’d never get over you, no matter how many times you screwed his heart over. Because he didn’t even have to admit to it—Chan had it fucking bad. Before you, he couldn’t seem to give a single fuck about any of these other women. As soon as you stepped foot on Route, he was done for. Absolutely. It was written all over him.

Chan was scheming. How to get that leech off you? He’d have to get Changbin involved, probably say some shit to get him all riled up. All he needed was to get you alone. Bury his cock in you and have you scream his name. He’d been aching—to hear it from your mouth, the way your lips wrapped around the sound of it. The thought of it alone, got him rock hard. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed a taste of your cunt; he craved his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs as he fucked you with his tongue.

But you deserved none of that tonight. What you did deserve—a rough fuck against a goddamn wall. Perhaps that would pacify you, make you stop messing with his goddamn mind. His palms were itching for a fight.

A devilish grin spread across his face. Maybe if he beat that little boyfriend of yours to a pulp—maybe then you’d learn not to fuck with him. How fucking dare you come to his club dragging along that scum with you?

Chan wasn’t an unreasonable man. He didn’t just hate him because he warmed your bed every night. No, him and that asshole go way back. His face alone made Chan’s blood boil.

And the fucking way you danced on him. He hadn’t realized how tight his grip on the bar stool was, until the tips of his fingers went numb. Your ass was rubbing all over him, the black tiny fucking dress barely covering anything. You might as well be naked for everyone to see—and you knew it, gave everyone a good fucking show with your wining hips and head thrown back on another man’s chest.

No, Chan may be worth shit all, but he’d never let you get away with something like this. His girl, flashing her panties for strangers? Plump breasts spilling over a microscopic piece of cloth? He’d bruise your fucking ass for that, teach you who’s supposed to be seeing that slutty body of yours.

“Say, Bang Chan, ain’t that your girl?” Changbin nodded over at you. He’d barely switched from door duty—Seungmin was to take over after midnight.

“Does that fucking whore look like she’s anything to me?” He was absolutely seething, barely containing himself from pouncing on you, and dragging you away.

Then, he could kill that son of a bitch on the spot, something he should’ve done the first time he crossed him.

Changbin sensed the murderous intent. “Do you want me to start some shit, man? Just say the word, boss.”

Chan put his fist over his mouth, weighing his options. He’s a calculating man first and foremost, but safe to say, all reason goes out the window with you. And what was he risking, anyway? Nothing. He owns this fucking place—whatever he says goes. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. Isn’t that why he refused to work for others?

“Fuck it,” he grunted, lunging forward. Changbin followed, lifting his sleeves up, and cracking his knuckles.

They hadn’t fought like this in a while.

Chan was first to throw the punch, his friend holding your boyfriend down as Chan shot his hand out, forcing you behind him. You screamed, hitting his back, pulling on his shirt, scratching the sides of his face.

“Let him go, Chan! What the fuck?”

All the motherfucker did was fall on the floor, moaning like a little bitch. What could you possibly see in him? He’s a weak, pathetic excuse of a man—a good for nothing piece of shit, that needs to be taught a fucking lesson.

Felix is in a fucking wheelchair because of him, and his piss poor driving skills. He didn’t even have the decency to fucking stop. A hit and run. When he got identified, all Chan could see was red.

And now he gets to have you? What if he hurts you too? That. That he couldn’t possibly risk.

A crowd had gathered around them, phones out, shouting encouraging exclaims, eating the whole thing up. Chan spit on the bloody man’s face, leaving Changbin to finish him off.

Turning to look at you, your blood froze. His eyes had gone completely black, the red neon lights hitting him sharply, giving the illusion of the Devil. Handsome, deadly.

“Is this who you want?” he raised his voice at you, gripping your arm tightly. “Do you even know what kind of a man he is?”

Your brows furrowed, anger flashing through you like lightning. “He can’t be worse than you! Let me fucking go,” you snapped, trying to pry your arm off his fingers.

Was it… hurt? Something passed in his eyes, before he chuckled— a dry, humorless thing, and dragged you away from the crowd, turning left to the hall where the bathrooms are located.

Your back hit the wall, as he slammed you on it. Chan towered over you, his broad shoulders menacing in a way that made you press your thighs together. His gaze swept your entire body, checking for any injuries. Slowly, his fingers lifted the strap of your dress back to its place, his eyes slowly locking with yours.

His breathing was hard, and labored, sweat coating his forehead, light brown hair sticking to it. A vision that crawled its way up from Hell. You smiled up at it, hand lifting to rest on his cheek. He saw it, then.

The intent. Your plan had worked.

“You fucking slut,” he leered.

“I have to say, Bang Chan—you’re quite predictable.”

A warning, then. His entire body alert, closing around you, fingers stripping the necklace from your neck, his hand replacing it, squeezing exactly right. His gaze was intoxicating, piercing through you with lethal need. He was looking to hurt.

“Take that shit off,” he snickered. “It’s fucking fake. If you were my girl…” his jaw tightened.

His hands left your skin for a moment, unclasping the chain around his neck, before passing it over and around your neck, letting it fall just above your breasts. Real silver, crystals adorning parts of it.

“Wear it for me, will you? Fifteen thousand, right there. Let me see you.”

Your arms hooped around his thick neck, bringing him closer. His hands fell to your waist, groping, eyes undressing. For a moment, you thought he’d turn all soft for you, lean in for a kiss. Instead, he smirked. And turned you around, pressing your face against the wall, fingers buried in your hair.

“Ask me,” he growled in your ear. “Ask me to fuck you, baby girl. I know you like it rough. How about I take you over his fucking corpse, let him hear the way your scream for my fucking cock? Huh?”

You laughed manically, immobile and loving it. His hands bared your ass to him, dainty panties ripped off your body in an instant. You moaned at his manhandling, wanting more of it, feeling your pussy getting wet for him. Chan could have you in the palm of his hand if he wanted to. The fact that he was allowing you the freedom to mock him, must play into the little fantasy he has of you being a fucking whore, and him the victim that fell prey to your witch ways.

You were terrible, you never denied it. You were a cheater, and a manipulator. You’d also never felt so strongly about anyone else before in your life. The way you feel about Chan—its gasoline. It’s a lit matchstick in a gas station.

“Fucking answer me, you goddamn bitch.” He landed a slap, and then another, relentless, each touch stinging. But welcome—so very welcome.

“You hate me, don’t you? How I make you feel? Show me, daddy,” your tone was innocent, but your intention was anything but. You clenched around nothing, your cunt feeling entirely too empty.

“Oh, keep fucking testing me, baby girl, I will rip you open.” His mouth ghosted over your ear, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

You knew the name would send him over the edge. It’s what you wanted.

The music drowned out everything again. Chan looked over at the main floor, mood lights turning purple, the hall then, by default, getting darker as he grabbed his leaking cock, pumping himself to the shadow of your semi naked body. His hand kept you in place, thoughts rushing in a jumbled mess. He wanted to tear you apart, make you feel the pain you’ve put him through, make you understand—that you belong to him, that your cunt was made for him, that he needs to be between your legs like he needs oxygen to breathe. But also—

That you should stop this, now. That he meant every word he said. That chain is yours now, if you take him, if you’re up for the challenge as he thinks you are. You’re a wildcat, wanting nothing more than to play. He could give that to you. He could give you a lot of things.

With no warning, he put his hand over your stomach, bending you so that your ass was flash against his shaft. Then, in one swift move, he bottomed out in your cunt, hand getting lost in your hair again. And you felt like you always felt—pure fucking paradise, your pussy enveloping him, your hands scrambling to hold onto the wall, knees shaking. He could feel everything; your wetness dripping down your thighs, the way you screamed as his cock teared through your entrance. His movements grew quicker, sharper, drilling into you, fingers digging into the sides of your hips, fucking you dumb, the stretch feeling amazing, for him, for him, for him—

“Say my fucking name,” he demanded leaning on you, lips on your shoulder blade. “Look at you—a fucking mess. My fucking mess.”

“Make me cum, please, please make me cum, fuck—please.”

He tells himself—it’s because you said please, it’s because you asked nicely, it’s because you can cheat, and patronize, and ruin every inch of him, but the trust you have on him for this one thing, the way he could always bring you release, the way he’d carved in you—he couldn’t betray that. But your brat behavior wouldn’t just pass over his head, he had to show you he wasn’t to be messed with. Especially by you, especially because it’s you.

“Say—my— name, (Y/N),” he paused all movement, hovering over your body. “Say it, or I’m walking away.”

You huffed, your limbs shaking, and backed your hips. One hand came down hard on your ass, the other gripping the nape of your neck. You stilled, heart leaping out of your chest. You were trapped. Completely.

“Chan—please.”

“Please what?”

“You’re going to make me spell it out?” You half turned your head, glancing behind you in desperation. Tears stained your cheeks, already missing the friction of his cock.

“If I have to, baby. I got all night.” His tip teased you, slowly slipping in and out of you in an excruciating pace, that was so unlike him.

“Fuck you,” you spat, fighting his hold.

“Your boyfriend might be looking for you, sweetheart. Should I call him over, hm? Show him how to fuck a whore like you?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want. Just move,” you screamed, stomping your heel, crying out.

He did. He did, because he, himself, could not stand it anymore. He resumed his speed like he’d never stopped pounding into you. And it was bliss, it was mercy, it was fucking in its truest form, filthy and sweaty, bodies smacking together, taking and taking, pulling and pushing, begging and pleading and goddamn your body, you fucking bitch, you have me by the balls. He wanted to kill you for the way you made him feel, his mind lost, half of him gone, digging, digging, deeper, faster, harder. Chan acted on pure animal instinct, his own release so close he could taste it, so he pushed, and by that point you were crying, sobbing, an incoherent string of words escaping your mouth, give it to me, you have to cum, Chan, please, I can’t, I fucking can’t, I’m fucking done—

“(Y/N).”

Both of you turned to the voice, as you came, lights blurring your vision, ears deaf, faces bewildered. A bloody, bruised version of your boyfriend stood there, shocked, horrified.

Chan pulled out of you, tucking himself back in his pants, as a guttural laugh tore itself through his throat. You, on the other hand, stared at the pathetic man looking over at the two of you, and where there should’ve been shame, and guilt—there was none. Instead, your gaze fell back on Chan, the way his hand brushed his hair back, nonchalant, completely calm.

You laughed, then, as well.

“Take that as a last warning, yeah?” Chan neared your, what could only now be assumed to be, ex-boyfriend. He cowered in fear, but there was still clear anger. Understandable, but not enough. Not next to Chan.

Not everyone witnesses their girlfriend being fucked raw after they’ve been beaten to near death.

You and him would be toxic; you’d be terrible for each other. There’d be a lot of fights, and neither of you would back down from them. Your friends will hate him, and his friends—well, they’ve seen worse. But in that way, you work. In between the cracks, in dark rooms. You’re shadows, recognizing the worst in each other, and accept it as is.

Chris couldn’t wait to figure you out. Not your body, but you, as you speak to him. What makes you, beyond sex. He was fucking screwed, and he couldn’t care less.

“Don’t fucking dare mess with what’s mine again. You hear me?”

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