patrixjia

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains

Plot Overview:

Y/N Y/L/N is the heir to a powerful mafia empire, but she’s always preferred playing by her own rules. When tensions between her father’s Y/L/N family and the Stray Kids mafia escalate, she finds herself kidnapped by Bang Chan, the unpredictable leader of the rival gang. What starts as a strategic move to shake things up quickly turns into a high-stakes game of power, wit, and dangerous chemistry. Will Y/N outsmart Chan and reclaim control, or will she get swept up in his chaotic world?

Warnings: Mafia!BangChan, Mafia!AU, Violence, Kidnapping, Strong Language, Power Dynamics, Dark Themes, Flirting, Banter, High Tension, Smut(eventually)

Author Note:

Hey everyone! So, after posting a poll on Tumblr, the results are in and… Chan won! 🎉 I guess y’all are as intrigued by his unpredictable charm as I am! 😏 So here we are, diving into the world of mafia intrigue with none other than Bang Chan. This story is going to be a wild ride, and I just couldn’t stop writing once I started (you know how it goes, right?). So, get ready for a few parts—yep, this one is going to be a series! 🤩

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I’m enjoying writing it. Expect plenty of tension, power plays, and some spicy moments to come. 😉

As always, please read the tags carefully and make sure this is your cup of tea before continuing!

Hope you all enjoy this as much as I loved writing it. Please feel free to leave your thoughts, comments, and feedback—I’d love to hear from you! 💖

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Part I

The jazz bar wasn’t exactly your style, but you appreciated the quiet. As the only daughter of Victor Y/L/N, the man who controlled the northern sector with an iron fist, finding moments of peace was a rare commodity. Your father had built the Y/L/N empire on a foundation of precision, discipline, and cold, calculated power. For three generations, the Y/L/N mafia had ruled this part of the city, their influence expanding through smuggling, money laundering, and intricate political ties. Everything had been meticulously planned. Every move, every person, every resource—it was all part of the machine.

Victor Y/L/N wasn’t just feared—he was respected. A master strategist who never played by anyone else’s rules. His empire was a fortress, and you’d been raised to understand that you were part of it. You knew the stakes of the game, the cost of failure. You had a front-row seat to everything that happened in the world of organized crime, but instead of becoming the dutiful heir your father expected, you’d learned how to operate outside of his rigid control. You weren’t just another piece in his game of chess—you were the queen, always calculating your next move, never just following orders.

You were his greatest asset—and his greatest frustration.

Victor had raised you to understand power, to see the world in black and white. He taught you how to read people, how to dismantle an opponent without ever lifting a weapon. From the time you could walk, you’d been groomed for leadership. But you weren’t like him.

Victor saw the world as a chessboard, and every person was a piece to be moved or sacrificed. You, however, refused to stay on the board. You wanted freedom, independence. You wanted to be more than a pawn in his endless games of control.

“Emotion is a weakness,” he’d told you countless times. “Empathy will get you killed.”

But you didn’t believe him. You knew that in the right hands, emotion could be a weapon. And while Victor wanted you to be cold and calculating, you had something he didn’t: charisma. People followed your father out of fear. They followed you because they wanted to.

This difference had always been a point of contention between you.

Victor expected blind loyalty and obedience, but you questioned everything. When he ordered you to marry the son of an allied family to strengthen his position, you refused. When he tried to involve you in his dealings with corrupt politicians, you went behind his back to broker your own alliances.

You weren’t defiant for the sake of it—you were strategic. You understood the rules of the game, but you played by your own.

The silence of the bar was unsettling, though, as it contrasted with the world you’d known your entire life. The thrum of power, the constant buzz of danger—it had always been there, but tonight something felt different. The shadows seemed deeper than usual, and even the bartender’s hands shook as he poured your wine.

You glanced at the open notebook on the table in front of you, filled with coded notes about your father’s rivals, including one name that had come up more than any other recently—Bang Chan. You knew the Stray Kids mafia had been a thorn in your father’s side for years, but the tension had reached a boiling point lately. The southern sector had grown too powerful, too unpredictable. And now, it seemed they were coming for you.

The Y/L/N and Stray Kids mafias had been in conflict for years. At first, it was subtle: small skirmishes, intercepted shipments, whispers of betrayal. But as Bang Chan rose to power, the tension escalated into an all-out turf war.

Chan’s rise was meteoric. Where your father relied on tradition and loyalty, Chan built his empire with innovation and ambition. He recruited the best hackers, the most skilled fighters, and the most loyal men, creating a network that outpaced even the most established families. His crew—Stray Kids—was infamous for their unpredictability and efficiency.

Your father hated him, not just because of the territory disputes, but because Chan represented everything Victor despised: a new, disruptive power that didn’t play by the old rules.

You’d never met Bang Chan before, but you’d heard plenty about him. He was ruthless, charismatic, and maddeningly clever. If your father was a chess master, Chan was a wild card, someone who could flip the table and still win.

While the Y/L/N family’s strength lay in its calculated, methodical approach, the Stray Kids mafia relied on innovation and unpredictability.

Your notebook sat open on the table. You didn’t need to be here, but the idea of slipping away from under your father’s watchful eye always gave you a thrill. You lived for moments like this.

Until tonight.

The first thing you noticed was the bartender’s shaky hands as he poured your second glass of wine. Then came the eerie silence—the background chatter fading as patrons disappeared one by one. You leaned back, crossing your legs under the table, and glanced toward the shadowed corners of the room.

“Alright,” you murmured under your breath, reaching for the knife strapped to your thigh. “Let’s play.”

Two figures stepped into the dim light. Han Jisung and Lee Know. You recognized them immediately—not just from reputation, but from the detailed dossiers your father kept on the Stray Kids mafia.

The Stray Kids were brutal, unpredictable, and far more cunning than anyone gave them credit for.

Where your father’s mafia was cold and calculated, theirs was wild and ambitious. It was no wonder your father hated them.

Han and Lee Know approached with an air of casual confidence, but you could tell they weren’t taking any chances. You smiled, a sharp, mocking twist of your lips.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Chan’s errand boys. Did you get lost on the way to the kiddie pool?”

Han snorted, clearly amused. “She’s got jokes. I like her already.”

Lee Know’s eyes narrowed, his voice low and measured. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Y/N.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Oh, honey. You’re adorable if you think either of those options work for me.”

Without warning, you lunged. The knife was in your hand in an instant, its blade glinting in the dim light. Lee Know blocked your strike, his movements quick and calculated, while Han stepped in to restrain your other arm.

“Cute,” Lee Know said, his grip like steel around your wrist. “But not smart.”

You twisted in his grasp, your knee coming up to narrowly miss Han’s side. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just getting started.”

Han laughed, despite himself. “She’s got fire. No wonder Chan’s so interested.”

That gave you pause. “Interested? Let me guess—he couldn’t find anyone else to stroke his ego, so he sent you two?”

Lee Know’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You laughed, though the sound was more to cover your growing irritation than anything else. “How cute. You think this is going to be easy?”

The two men didn’t answer. They moved quickly, forcefully, but you fought back with every ounce of your strength. You managed to strike one of them in the ribs before they overpowered you and pulled your hands behind your back. It was the usual dance—the struggle, the resistance. But you knew this wasn’t just about you. This was about your father’s empire, and if they were here for you, then it was time to face the consequences of your father’s years of making enemies.

As Lee Know tightened his grip on your wrist, you resisted the urge to lash out. This wasn’t about you—it was about your father. Victor Y/L/N had a way of making enemies, and it seemed Bang Chan had finally grown tired of playing nice. Not that you cared. You’d spent years trying to step out of Victor’s shadow, but his decisions had a way of dragging you back in.

"You do realize this is going to piss off my father,” you said, looking at Han. “Is that the plan, or is Chan just bored?”

Han didn’t seem fazed. “Bored? Nah. This is business, Y/N. Chan’s got a point to prove.”

You scoffed. “And you think kidnapping me will prove it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Han said, his grin widening. “But it’ll get his message across.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Well, don’t take it personally, boys. I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

Lee Know’s grip on your wrist tightened, but you barely noticed. It was the truth, after all. The moment your father found out, all hell would break loose.

The ride to the Stray Kids estate felt like hours, but you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d face Bang Chan. The southern sector and the northern sector had been in a delicate balance for years. Your father kept his enemies close, but Chan had always been an anomaly. He didn’t play by the same rules, and that made him dangerous.

You sat between Han and Lee Know, your hands loosely bound—just tight enough to make a statement but loose enough to mock.

“You know,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence, “this is a sloppy move for Chan. Kidnapping me? What’s the play? Ransom? Leverage? Or is he just looking for a date?”

Han snickered. “She’s quick.”

Lee Know didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “We’re not here to answer your questions, Y/N.”

“Of course not,” you replied smoothly. “That would require actual intelligence.”

Han turned to you, grinning. “You’re awfully bold for someone in your position.”

“Bold is just another word for better,” you said, tilting your head toward him. “Speaking of bold, is Chan still pretending he’s running the southern sector with brains, or has he admitted it’s all brawn and luck?”

Lee Know’s hand tightened on his knee, but Han seemed genuinely entertained. “I can’t wait for him to meet you.”

When you arrived at the mansion, Chan was waiting.

The estate was grand, modern, and cold—a stark contrast to the warmth of your father’s domain. The walls seemed to pulse with the quiet hum of power, and you could feel it as you were led inside. Chan was the type of man who demanded respect without saying a word. It was a quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance.

When he turned to face you, you couldn’t help but appreciate the way he commanded the room without a single movement. His gaze locked onto yours, and you stood your ground.

“Well, well,” you said, crossing your arms. “Let me guess. This is about my father. What, did he steal one of your shipments? Break one of your toys? Seems like a petty reason to kidnap me.”

Chan smirked, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Petty? No. Let’s call it… strategic. Your father’s been playing the same tired game for years. He doesn’t realize the board has changed.”

“And you think you’re the one changing it?” you shot back.

“I know I am,” he replied, his tone casual but sharp. “And you, Y/N, are far too smart to pretend otherwise.”

He smiled—a dangerous, predatory curve of his lips—as he walked toward you. “You’ve built quite the reputation for yourself. Smart, strategic, ruthless when you need to be. You’re not your father, though, are you?”

You bristled, stepping forward to meet his gaze head-on. “No, I’m not. I’m better.”

The room seemed to hold its breath.

Chan tilted his head, his smirk widening. “I see.” He gestured for Lee Know and Han to leave, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can drop the act, Y/N. I didn’t bring you here for ransom.”

“Then what?” you shot back. “You looking for a chess partner? Because I don’t play games I can’t win.”

Chan chuckled, low and dangerous. “Oh, I think you’ll find this game… worth playing.”

You crossed your arms, leaning closer to him. “And what makes you think I won’t burn your whole empire to the ground?”

He leaned in, his voice a soft whisper. “Because you’re too smart to destroy something you’ll want to rule.”

The tension crackled like electricity, but you didn’t flinch. This was a battle of wills, and you weren’t about to lose.

[patrixjia]

Title: Unspoken Words

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospital/Accident, Emotional Overload, Miscommunication, Hurt/Comfort, Crying Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Summary:

Bang Chan has always been the type to pour everything into his work, his friends, and his music—leaving little for the one person who needs him the most. On your anniversary, you find yourself sitting alone, waiting for him to notice the cracks in your relationship. But when the worst happens, Chan realizes too late how much he’s taken you for granted, and how far he’ll go to make it right.

Author’s Note:

Hey everyone, I hope you'll enjoy this! 💕 This one’s been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I’m so glad I finally finished it. It’s a bit angsty (okay, a lot angsty), but it has a happy ending. Just wanted to share my love for Chan and this idea I had about miscommunication and making up after a tough moment. I hope it hits right in the feels!

As always, feedback is welcome! Reblogs and comments are appreciated. 💖

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

Bang Chan had always been the kind of person who gave all of himself to others—his friends, his family, his music. It was one of the things you loved most about him. But lately, it felt like there was nothing left for you.

You sat in his studio, a place that once felt like your second home, the faint hum of his unfinished track filling the silence. He was in his chair, facing the monitors, hunched over his laptop as if you weren’t even there.

It was your anniversary. You’d been looking forward to this day for weeks, hoping it would be a chance to reconnect with him, to remind him that there was still a you and him beneath all the chaos of his life. But as you watched him work, barely acknowledging your presence, something inside you broke.

“Chan,” you called softly, your voice strained.

“Hmm?” he replied, not turning around.

You swallowed hard, fingers clenching the fabric of your sweater. “Did you forget what today is?”

He paused, his hands hovering over the keyboard. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the guilt in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I—” he started, but you didn’t let him finish.

“You forgot,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t believe you actually forgot.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, standing up. “I’ve just been so busy with this project, and I lost track of time. You know how much pressure I’m under right now.”

“Pressure?” you echoed, your voice rising. “Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve watched you work yourself into the ground for everyone else, Chan. But what about me? What about us?”

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. “You know how important this is. I don’t have the luxury to stop and—”

“To stop and what?” you interrupted, your voice cracking. “To stop and care about me? To stop and make me feel like I even matter to you anymore?”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his tone sharper now. “You do matter to me.”

“Then why don’t you show it?” you shot back, tears stinging your eyes. “Why do I always feel like an afterthought?”

The silence that followed was deafening. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. And that was worse than anything he could’ve said.

You grabbed your bag, standing up. “You know what? Forget it. I can’t do this right now.”

“Wait—” he started, but you were already walking out the door.

The sound of it slamming shut echoed in your chest like a gunshot.

You didn’t hear from him after that. Days turned into a week, and with each passing moment, the ache in your chest grew heavier. You kept hoping he’d call, that he’d apologize, that he’d say something. But he didn’t.

And so you told yourself it was over.

Chan, on the other hand, was falling apart. He’d thrown himself even deeper into his work, hoping it would distract him from the gaping hole you’d left behind. But it didn’t work. Every note he wrote sounded wrong, every lyric felt empty.

Your voice haunted him, the way it cracked when you said, Why don’t you show it? He wanted to call you, to tell you he was sorry, to promise he’d do better. But every time he picked up his phone, he froze. What if you didn’t want to hear from him? What if it was too late?

It was the day of a major performance, one of the biggest stages of his career. The members were buzzing with excitement, but Chan felt nothing. His mind was somewhere else—on you.

He sat backstage, scrolling through old photos on his phone. There was one of you from months ago, sitting in his studio, laughing at something stupid he’d said. You looked so happy then. He stared at the photo, his chest tightening.

He should’ve called you. He should’ve done something, anything, to fix what he’d broken.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a call from a mutual friend. Frowning, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Chan.” The voice on the other end was frantic. “It’s Y/N. They—they were in an accident.”

The world stopped.

“What?” he breathed, his heart pounding.

“They were hit by a car. They’re at the hospital. I thought you should know.”

Chan didn’t hear the rest. He was already on his feet, ignoring the confused looks from the members as he grabbed his things and bolted out the door.

When Chan arrived at the hospital, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The smell of antiseptic, the fluorescent lights, the sterile white walls—it all felt wrong.

A nurse directed him to your room, and when he saw you lying there, bruised and unconscious, he broke.

He sank into the chair beside your bed, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “Y/N…” His voice cracked.

The guilt was suffocating. This was his fault. If he hadn’t pushed you away, if he had just been there for you, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I should’ve called you. I should’ve told you how much you mean to me. I’m such an idiot,” Chan choked out, gripping your hand as if letting go would make you disappear. “I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I forgot the one thing that matters most—you.”

His voice wavered as he kept talking, even though you couldn’t hear him. “I thought I was doing the right thing, working so hard for our future. But what’s the point of any of it if I’m not there for you? If I can’t even make you feel loved?”

The room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. It was the only reassurance he had that you were still here, still fighting.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to wake up,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Please, Y/N. I need to make this right. I need to tell you how much I love you, how sorry I am for everything. Just… just give me one more chance.”

His tears fell freely now, and he pressed your hand to his forehead, his body shaking with quiet sobs.

Hours passed. Chan refused to leave your side, ignoring the nurses who told him to take a break. He stayed there, holding your hand, whispering apologies and promises into the quiet.

When you finally stirred, it was so faint he almost missed it. Your fingers twitched against his, and his head shot up, eyes wide with hope.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyelids fluttered open, your gaze unfocused at first before it landed on him. “Chan…?”

Relief washed over him so intensely it felt like he might collapse. “You’re awake,” he breathed, his hand tightening around yours. “Oh my God, you’re awake.”

You winced, the pain from your injuries making it hard to move. “What… happened?”

“You were in an accident,” he said quickly, his voice thick with emotion. “But you’re okay now. You’re going to be okay.”

You frowned slightly, confusion mixing with the lingering hurt from the fight. “Why are you here?”

Chan’s heart broke all over again at your words. He leaned closer, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with regret. “Because I love you,” he said, his voice trembling. “And I’m so, so sorry for everything. For making you feel like you didn’t matter. For not being there when you needed me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered the fight, the pain of walking away from him that night. “I thought you didn’t care anymore,” you whispered, your voice raw.

“I care more than anything,” he said, his hand gently cupping your face. “I was just too stupid to show it. I let my work consume me, and I took you for granted. But I swear to you, Y/N, I’ll never make that mistake again. You’re the most important person in my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

Your tears spilled over, and you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “I just wanted to feel like I mattered to you,” you said softly.

“You do,” he said, his voice breaking. “You always have. I’m so sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

Chan stayed by your side for the rest of the night, refusing to leave even when the nurses tried to insist. He helped you drink water, adjusted your blanket when you shivered, and whispered soft reassurances whenever you seemed restless.

As the hours passed, the weight of the fight began to lift. There were still things that needed to be said, wounds that needed time to heal, but for now, you were together. And that was enough.

The next morning, as the sunlight filtered through the hospital curtains, you woke to find Chan still sitting beside you, his head resting on the edge of your bed. His hand was still wrapped around yours, his grip firm even in sleep.

“Chan,” you whispered, gently brushing his hair out of his face.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw you looking at him, a tired but relieved smile spread across his face. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice still weak but steady.

He sat up, his expression serious. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water? The nurse?”

You shook your head. “I just need you.”

His eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of gratitude. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “Not now, not ever.”

You squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. “Good. Because I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

He chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Fair enough. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

And you believed him.

True to his word, Chan made changes. He started setting boundaries at work, learning to say no when things became too overwhelming. He made sure to carve out time for you, even if it was just an hour at the end of a long day to sit and talk.

It wasn’t perfect. There were still moments of stress, arguments, and the occasional doubt. But the difference was that he never let the silence linger. He made it a point to tell you how much he loved you, how grateful he was for your patience, and how sorry he was for ever making you feel unimportant.

And every time he did, you reminded him that love wasn’t about being perfect—it was about showing up, even when things were messy and hard.

Together, you rebuilt what had been broken, one word, one moment, and one promise at a time.

[patrixjia]

Heat of The Moment

Plot Overview

You’re an independent songwriter tasked with writing a collaborative track for Stray Kids. What should have been your dream gig turns into a nightmare thanks to last-minute deadlines and your strained creative energy. You clash immediately with Bang Chan—too confident for his own good and infuriatingly talented. He insists on late-night studio sessions, constantly pushes back on your ideas, and doesn’t seem to know how to take no for an answer.

One night, when tension reaches its peak, an explosive argument in the recording studio leads to unexpected sparks. With tempers flaring and boundaries slipping, the heat between you boils over into something far more primal. The lines between frustration and desire blur, leaving you both vulnerable to feelings that neither of you wanted—or planned for.

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fanfiction created for entertainment purposes only. I do not own or claim any affiliation with Bang Chan, Stray Kids, or their management. The events and characters depicted in this story are entirely fictional and do not reflect real-life personalities, actions, or relationships.

This story contains mature themes and is intended for audiences 18 and older. Reader discretion is advised.

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The studio air was thick with frustration. It wasn't the equipment, the hours, or even the looming deadline - it was him.

Bang Chan sat sprawled in his chair like a king, his dark eyes fixed on you with infuriating calmness. You could practically feel the smugness radiating off him as he leaned back, one arm lazily draped over the chair's edge, his lips twitching upward in what could only be described as a challenge.

"Again", he said, his voice low and maddeningly smooth.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling with restrained fury. "We've already gone over this again five times! The hook works, the track flows, and it's done. You just want me to sit here all night because you've decided sleep is optional."

He didn't even flinch. If anything, that smirk grew sharper. "It's not about sleep. It's about getting it right. This?" He gesture at the speakers like he was dismissing a bad meal. "This isn't right."

You turned, fully intending to argue, but the look on his face stopped you. It wasn't disdain or boredom - it was focus. Relentless, unshakable focus.

You hated that he looked good while being such a pain. His hair was a little messy, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that you were doing your best not to notice, and he had that maddening way of looking at you like he was already one step ahead.

But this wasn't about how good he looked. It was about the fact that he was driving you insane.

"Why don't you just write it yourself?" you snapped.

Chan shrugged, the movement deliberate. "Because i want to see what you've got. You're suppose to be the best, right? Prove it."

The arrogance in his voice set something off in you. Your hands slammed against the desk, the sound echoing in the studio. "You don't think I'm good enough?!"

"I think," he said, standing and crossing the room toward you, his footsteps slow and deliberate, "you're holding back. And I'm not interested in 'good enough'. I want something that hits harder."

By the time he stopped in front of you, the air felt charged. He wasn't touching you, but he didn't need to. His presence was overwhelming, his eyes locked on yours with a heat that send your pulse racing.

"Well," you said, refusing to back down, "maybe you should stop breathing down my neck and let me work."

Chan tilted his head, his smirk turning into something more dangerous. "Maybe you like it."

Your breath hitched, but you didn't flinch. "Don't flatter yourself."

The hours stretched on, the tension between you crackling like static. You were at the piano, furiously reworking the melody, while Chan sat behind you, watching. Always watching.

"Play the last part again," he said, his voice softer now but no less insistent.

You obeyed - if only to avoid another argument. Your fingers stumbled lightly, the fatigue of the night finally catching up with you.

"That's not it," he murmured, standing and moving to your side. "Here, let me."

You bristled but scooted over just enough for him to sit. His hands brushed against yours as he reached for the keys, and the warmth of his skin sent a jolt up your arm.

"That's not-"

"Relax," he said, his voice so close that you felt it more than heard it. His hands moved confidently over the keys, the melody shifting under his touch, morphing into something richer, heavier. "See?"

You hated that it sounded better. You hated him. And yet, you couldn't pull your eyes away.

"Show-off," you muttered, hoping to break the spell.

Chan laughed softly, his voice low and teasing. "You're cute when you're mad."

Your head whipped toward him. "What did you just said?"

He turned to face you fully, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His smile was infuriatingly calm. "I said, you're cute when you're mad. What are you gonna do about it?"

Your jaw tightened, but before you could retort, his gaze dropped to your lips, lingering just enough to set your skin on fire.

It happened all at once. One second, you were glaring at him, and the next, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was fire and frustration, a tangle of heat and tension that exploded in the small studio. Your back hit the piano as he leaned into you, his hands framing your face, tilting it up to deepen the kiss.

You gasped, and his tongue slid against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

“This,” you managed to gasp between kisses, “is a terrible idea.”

“Probably,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with want. “But you started it.”

You shoved at his chest, though your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “You kissed me!”

His laugh was low and wicked as he nipped at your jawline, his hands slipping under your shirt to skim along your sides. “And you didn’t stop me.”

Chan’s mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding, as he pressed you back against the piano. The weight of him, the way his hands gripped your waist, sent your pulse skyrocketing.

“You’re infuriating,” you gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt, tugging him closer.

“And you’re impossible,” he shot back, his voice rough, lips brushing against your jaw before moving lower.

His mouth left a scorching trail along your neck, and you felt yourself arch into him as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin there.

Your hands slipped under his shirt, fingers tracing along the ridges of his muscles, eliciting a low sound from him that made heat pool in your stomach.

“Touchy,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

His response was a low chuckle, muffled as his mouth moved lower, his hands now sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and rough, though his fingers lingered teasingly along the edge of your waistband.

You didn’t answer—didn’t want him to stop—so instead, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head.

The sight of him—flushed skin, wild hair, and that insufferable grin—shouldn’t have made your knees weak, but it did.

“You’re staring,” he said, voice teasing, though his eyes were anything but playful.

“You’re in my way,” you shot back, pulling him to you again, crashing your mouth against his.

This time, it was frantic, all pretense stripped away as hands wandered and clothes were pulled at—shirts discarded onto the studio floor, his jeans pressing into your thighs as he lifted you onto the piano bench.

The sound of the piano keys clanging beneath you should have been comical, but it only fueled the tension as his mouth found yours again, his hands sliding to grip your hips and pull you closer—until there was nothing between you but thin fabric and the weight of all the things you couldn’t say aloud.

With a swift motion, Chan flipped you back, his body now hovering over you, the heat radiating off him almost overwhelming. “You think you can just take charge?” he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

You smirked, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Maybe I can show you how it’s done.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, really?”

You leaned in, capturing his mouth again, your bodies pressed together, the warmth between you palpable. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers brushing the edge of your shorts, teasing but not crossing the line.

“Is this what you wanted?” you breathed against his lips, your own pulse racing with the thrill of being in control. “Something that hits harder?”

He chuckled, the sound low and inviting, “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

With a swift motion, he flipped you back again, his body now solidly over yours, the weight of him deliciously grounding. “But I’m going to show you.”

His mouth found yours again, but this time, it was urgent, a claim that sent shivers down your spine. You gasped as his hands explored further, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shorts, teasingly inching toward the waistband.

"Chan,” you breathed, the thrill of anticipation mixing with the heat of his touch. “You’re insatiable.”

“And you love it,” he replied, voice thick with desire, as he pressed his body against yours, the piano creaking beneath the weight of your shared urgency.

“Maybe,” you admitted, a grin breaking through as he captured your mouth again, the world around you fading into a blur.

His hands slipped under your shorts, fingers brushing against your skin, and you moaned softly, arching into his touch. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, igniting a fire deep within you.

“I want you,” you gasped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I want all of you.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back. He kissed you fiercely, and as the world around you faded, you surrendered to the overwhelming need that had built between you.

Chan's lips were relentless against yours, each kiss igniting a fire that spread through your entire body. His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of you as if memorizing your shape. The world outside the studio faded into nothingness; it was just you and him, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and searching. “I don’t want to rush you.”

You felt your heart race at the sincerity in his voice, but the urgency of the moment drowned out any hesitation. “I’m sure,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. “I want this.”

His smirk returned, a mixture of satisfaction and wickedness, and he leaned in again, capturing your mouth as if sealing the promise of what was to come. You could feel the muscles in his arms flex as he held you against the piano, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you.

With a swift motion, he pulled you closer, his hands gripping your thighs as he shifted, positioning you to straddle him fully. The sensation sent another wave of heat through you, the feel of him beneath you amplifying the tension that had been building all night.

"Chan,” you gasped, feeling the rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of nervousness. “Please...”

“Just wait,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m just getting started.”

As if to prove his point, his hands moved back to your waist, guiding you as you began to grind against him. The friction was intoxicating, and you let out a soft moan, the sound echoing in the dimly lit studio.

“Like that?” he teased, watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks burn.

“More,” you urged, craving the connection, the way he made you feel alive and desired.

He obliged, his grip tightening as he helped you find a rhythm, the two of you moving together in a way that felt both primal and electrifying. You lost yourself in the sensation, every touch, every kiss igniting something deeper within you.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you to go faster, to feel more.

You leaned forward, locking eyes with him as you whispered, “Show me how incredible I can be.”

His response was a low growl, and in an instant, he flipped you back, pinning you beneath him once more. The shift was exhilarating, and you reveled in the feeling of being completely at his mercy. He leaned down, capturing your mouth again, and the kiss was fierce and demanding, filled with all the pent-up frustration and heat that had been building between you.

His hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of your body, his fingers igniting fire wherever they touched. You gasped as he slipped a hand beneath your shorts again, teasingly brushing against your most sensitive spots, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Chan, please,” you pleaded, the urgency in your voice echoing the frantic beating of your heart.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” he responded, his voice low and gravelly, the promise laced within it making your breath hitch.

You could hardly think straight, the need for him overwhelming. “I want you inside me,” you confessed, the words spilling out with a desperation you couldn’t hide.

His eyes darkened with desire at your admission, and he nodded, his expression turning serious. “Okay. But we’re doing this right.”

He took a moment to rummage through his bag, pulling out a small packet. You watched, breathless and eager, as he prepared, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.

"Strip for me, sweet girl," he said as he returned to you, helping you take off your clothes, taking a second to admire you. "Even more beautiful than i imagined."

You looked at him, with big, vulnerable eyes. "You imagine this?"

His gaze soften for a moment, "From the day you walked in this studio from the first time."

His hands found your waist again, fingers digging in as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“More than ready,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, and with that, he pushed inside you.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fullness that made you arch against him, gasping at the intensity of it all. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that left you breathless.

“Just like that,” he urged, his voice thick with desire as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You felt every inch of him, the way he filled you up, and it was almost too much to bear.

“Chan,” you moaned, your body responding instinctively to his rhythm, the heat between you growing with every movement.

He leaned down, capturing your lips again, the kiss deepening as he lost himself in you. You could feel the way he filled you, the way your bodies moved together, and it felt absolutely electric.

“Faster,” you urged, urging him on, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer.

He obliged, his pace quickening, the sounds of your bodies moving together filling the studio as you both succumbed to the pleasure building between you. Each thrust sent you spiraling closer to the edge, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might burst.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. “I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Neither am I,” you gasped, the pleasure reaching a crescendo. “Just a little more.”

With a few more powerful thrusts, the tension snapped, and you came undone, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as your body quaked beneath him.

“Yeah, just like that,” he breathed, his own release following closely behind, the feeling of him filling you driving you to new heights as you clung to each other, lost in the moment.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you both collapsed against each other, breaths mingling in the stillness of the studio. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared passion.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your uneven breathing and the faint hum of the studio equipment. You sat slumped against Chan, your heart still pounding as you tried to collect yourself.

“Well,” he finally said, his voice a low rasp, “that was… productive.”

You swatted weakly at his chest, though you couldn’t stop the small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “Shut up.”

He tilted his head back with a quiet laugh, his fingers tracing lazy circles along your skin. “You’re not gonna fight me on the hook anymore, are you?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, though the bite in your voice was gone.

Chan looked down at you, his expression softer now. “Guess I finally got your best work out of you, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but when his hand slid back to your waist, tugging you closer, you didn’t resist.

“Maybe you’re not entirely useless after all,” you teased, brushing your lips against his again.

His laugh rumbled against your mouth as he kissed you back, slow and unhurried this time—like you had all the time in the world.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You’re starting to like me.”

You pulled away just enough to meet his gaze, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bang Chan.”

But the smirk on his face told you it was already too late.

[patrixjia]

Underworld Ties - Chapter 1: Blood Feud

Amidst the shadows of Seoul's underworld, Lee Know of Stray Kids Mafia finds himself entangled in a dangerous game of alliances and rivalries. When he crosses paths with a formidable adversary from the Kangs, tensions ignite, revealing a past fraught with unresolved tensions and undeniable attraction. As their worlds collide in a tumultuous dance of power and passion, they must navigate a treacherous path of loyalty, love, and betrayal.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, Lee Know centric, smut at some point, angst, slow burn, violence, guns, (mafia world related stuff). I am not good at warnings sorry.

Words: 1927

The city of Seoul buzzed with life under the cover of darkness, its streets a labyrinth of shadows and secrets that whispered tales of power and betrayal. In a secluded alleyway, Lee Know leaned against the weathered brick wall, his gaze sharp and vigilant beneath the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Dressed in a finely tailored suit that spoke of authority and danger, he exuded an aura of controlled intensity—a leader in the ruthless world of Stray Kids Mafia.

Beside him stood Bang Chan, his second-in-command and closest ally, a man whose loyalty and strength were matched only by his strategic mind. His presence was a silent reassurance amidst the looming tension that hung thick in the air.

"Any word from our informants?" Lee Know's voice cut through the quietude, tinged with impatience and the weight of responsibility.

Bang Chan nodded, his expression grave. "The Kangs are making moves," he replied, voice low but carrying the certainty of truth. "They've secured a new shipment of arms from their contacts in Busan. It won't be long before they challenge our territory."

Lee Know's jaw tightened imperceptibly, his mind already racing with calculations and strategies. The Kangs. A name that ignited a firestorm of resentment and rivalry within him, a name synonymous with decades of bloodshed and vendetta. They were Stray Kids primary enemies, a rival mafia family with whom they had clashed time and again for dominance over Seoul's underworld.

"We can't afford to be caught off guard," Lee Know stated, his tone clipped and authoritative. "Increase surveillance on their key players. I want to know their every move."

Bang Chan nodded once in acknowledgment, his gaze unwavering. "Consider it done."

As Bang Chan departed to relay the orders to their operatives, Lee Know remained alone in the alleyway, his thoughts a whirlwind of memories and simmering animosity. Stray Kids had risen to power through grit and ruthlessness, their rise punctuated by hard-fought victories and bitter losses. They had carved out their territory with precision and determination, earning both fear and respect in equal measure.

But amidst the facade of strength and control, there lay a wound that refused to heal—a wound inflicted by the Kangs, a wound that festered with each passing day.

A rustle of movement drew Lee Know's attention, his senses sharp and attuned to the slightest disturbance. Across the street, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a grace that belied its purpose. Lee Know's hand instinctively went to the concealed weapon at his side, ready to defend himself against a potential threat.

But as the figure stepped into the sparse light of the alley, Lee Know froze—a familiar face that stirred a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within him.

It was you.

Your presence was a stark reminder of everything he despised and desired, a woman whose allegiance to the Kangs ran deeper than blood. Your gaze met his with a challenge that mirrored his own, a silent declaration of defiance and resolve.

"Lee Know," you spoke his name with a hint of mockery, your voice a cool melody in the stillness of the night. "I see you're still lurking in the shadows. Not much has changed."

Lee Know's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing at your taunt. "I could say the same for you," he retorted, his voice laced with restrained hostility. "Always skulking in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to strike."

You tilted your head slightly, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Opportunity is everywhere if you know where to look," you countered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or perhaps you've lost your edge, Lee Know. Too comfortable in your little kingdom."

Lee Know's fingers tightened around his weapon, the tension between you palpable and charged. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," he shot back, his words a thinly veiled threat.

"Likewise," you replied, your tone teasing yet edged with a dangerous undercurrent. "But tonight, we have more pressing matters to attend to. The Kangs are moving, and Stray Kids won't be far behind."

A bitter smirk tugged at Lee Know's lips, admiration mingling with resentment. "Always one step ahead," he remarked, a hint of grudging respect coloring his words. "I suppose that's why you're still breathing."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a glint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Survival is an art," you quipped, your voice laced with a sharpness that cut through the tension between you. "And we both know how to paint with blood."

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the weight of your shared history and conflicting loyalties pressing in from all sides. In another life, you might have been allies, comrades fighting a common enemy. But in this life, you were enemies, bound by duty and destiny to opposing sides of a brutal war.

Without warning, Lee Know lunged forward, his movements swift and calculated. His fist collided with the air where you had stood a moment ago, a whirl of fabric and fury. You sidestepped his attack with fluid grace, spinning on your heel to deliver a swift kick to his side.

The impact sent Lee Know staggering back, his breath catching in his throat. He recovered quickly, retaliating with a series of precise strikes aimed at your defenses. Each move was met with a counter, a dance of aggression and skill that echoed through the alley.

Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal—a knife flashed in your hand, deftly parrying Lee Know's blows. The alley reverberated with the sound of their struggle, a testament to the intensity of their rivalry.

"You fight well," Lee Know grunted, his voice strained with exertion as he pressed his advantage.

"You're not so bad yourself," you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips despite the intensity of the duel.

Their clash continued unabated, a flurry of strikes and blocks that pushed both combatants to their limits. The air crackled with tension, each moment teetering on the brink of victory or defeat.

Finally, with a decisive move, Lee Know disarmed you, his blade pressing against your throat in a silent threat. You froze, your eyes locked with his in a battle of wills that transcended the physical.

"You're mine," Lee Know breathed, his voice low and dangerous.

"Not tonight," you replied, your tone defiant yet tinged with a hint of something deeper.

With a fluid motion, you twisted out of his grasp, slipping from his hold with effortless grace.

"Until next time, Minho," you murmured, your voice a whisper carried on the wind as you turned to leave.

Lee Know watched you disappear into the darkness, the echo of your words lingering in the air like a promise unspoken. The blood feud between Stray Kids and the Kangs burned brighter than ever, fueled by pride, ambition, and the undeniable pull of a connection neither could ignore.

As he walked away, his thoughts drifted back to the past—the shared moments of rivalry and betrayal, now overshadowed by years of separation and enmity. The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty.

The adrenaline of the confrontation with you still pulsed through Lee Know's veins as he retraced his steps through the shadowed alleys of Seoul. The city seemed quieter now, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the impending storm that threatened to engulf them all. His thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and unresolved tension, his every move calculated and deliberate.

Stray Kids' hideout loomed ahead—a nondescript building nestled among the bustling streets, its facade a mask for the operations that thrived within. As Lee Know approached, the heavy door swung open to admit him, revealing the dimly lit interior where his comrades awaited.

Bang Chan stood at the head of the room, his posture rigid with concern as he watched Lee Know enter. Around him, the other members of Stray Kids Mafia—Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin —were gathered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and readiness.

"Hyunjin intercepted one of the Kangs' runners tonight," Bang Chan began without preamble, his voice carrying the weight of their shared responsibilities. "They've secured a shipment of arms from Busan. The Kangs are gearing up for a move."

Lee Know nodded grimly, his gaze sweeping over his assembled team. "We anticipated as much," he replied, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension. "But tonight, something unexpected happened."

Curiosity flickered in the eyes of his comrades as Lee Know recounted the encounter with you in the alleyway—the taunts, the fight, and the uneasy standoff that had ensued. He spared no detail, each word laced with the raw intensity of their rivalry and the complex emotions that simmered beneath the surface.

"You fought her?" Han interrupted, his voice incredulous yet tinged with admiration. "And she got away?"

Lee Know's jaw clenched imperceptibly, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "It wasn't about capturing her," he clarified, his tone brooking no argument. "It was about sending a message. The Kangs are testing our resolve, and we cannot afford to show weakness."

Changbin exchanged a knowing glance with Felix, his expression thoughtful. "She's always been a wildcard," he mused aloud, his voice a murmur of contemplation. "But why now? Why escalate tensions when they know we're prepared?"

Bang Chan stepped forward, his gaze piercing as he addressed the group. "The Kangs are not known for subtlety," he stated, his voice a quiet command. "Whatever their motive, we need to be ready. Increase patrols, secure our borders, and keep a close eye on their movements."

The room fell into a tense silence as each member absorbed the gravity of the situation. They knew the stakes—the delicate balance of power that hung in the balance, the ever-present threat of betrayal and bloodshed. In the world they inhabited, trust was a rare commodity, and alliances were forged in the crucible of conflict.

"We can't afford to underestimate them," Seungmin spoke up, his voice steady despite the weight of uncertainty that lingered in the air. "If they're making a move, it means they see weakness in our defenses."

Lee Know nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with strategies and contingencies. "Then we'll show them we're stronger than ever," he asserted, his voice ringing with conviction. "Prepare for whatever comes next. The Kangs may have started this game, but we will finish it."

With a collective nod of determination, the members of Stray Kids Mafia dispersed, each retreating to their assigned tasks with a sense of purpose and resolve. Alone once more in the heart of their hideout, Lee Know allowed himself a moment of solitude to reflect on the events of the night.

The memory of you lingered like a shadow in his mind—a reminder of a past that had shaped them both, of wounds that had yet to heal. The rivalry between Stray Kids and the Kangs ran deep, fueled by pride, ambition, and the unyielding desire for dominance. But amidst the chaos and danger that defined their world, a different kind of tension simmered beneath the surface—a tension born of unfinished business and a connection that defied reason.

As he settled into the quiet solitude of his office, Lee Know knew one thing for certain:

In the deadly game of mafia, where alliances were forged with blood and broken with betrayal, the line between enemies and something more was as thin as a razor's edge.

And he was about to tread that line with more caution—and more recklessness—than ever before.

[patrixjia]

Underworld Ties

Amidst the shadows of Seoul's underworld, Lee Know of Stray Kids Mafia finds himself entangled in a dangerous game of alliances and rivalries. When he crosses paths with a formidable adversary from the Kangs, tensions ignite, revealing a past fraught with unresolved tensions and undeniable attraction. As their worlds collide in a tumultuous dance of power and passion, they must navigate a treacherous path of loyalty, love, and betrayal.

Chapters:

Ch. 1: Blood Feud Ch. 2: Shadows of the Past Ch. 3: The Contract Ch. 4: Hostile Negotiations Ch. 5: Fractured Alliances Ch. 6: Veiled Threats Ch. 7: Dangerous Liaisons Ch. 8: Unlikely Allies Ch. 9: Undercover Ch. 10: Cloack and Dagger Ch. 11: Loyalty Tested Ch. 12: Betrayal Ch. 13: Heart of Darkness Ch. 14: Point of No Return Ch. 15: Revelations Ch. 16: Crossfire Ch. 17: Redemption Ch. 18: Breaking Point Ch. 19: Surrender Ch. 20: Epilogue - Beyond the Shadows

Warnings: enemies to lovers, Lee Know centric, smut at some point, angst, slow burn, violence, guns, (mafia world related stuff). I am not good at warnings sorry.

I'll update every Thursday. <3

[patrixjia]

It hits better when you lick it, doll

Celebrating 420 with your boyfriend Yoongi and Jungkook.

warnings: bit of degradation, exhibitionism, daddy kink, dom!Yoongi x sub!reader, Jungkook watches, oral (m. reciving), forget me if i forget anything i'm not good at this

"It was 420, and you were already high in Yoongi's studio, playing silently on your phone while sitting comfortably on the carpet, while Yoongi worked on some music.

You two always celebrated 420, and you were always on rolling duty, something along the lines "it hits better when you lick it, doll."

A knock on the door made you raise your head from your phone, looking at the door.

"Come in," said Yoongi without even looking back.

Jungkook entered the studio, a small smile on his face, greeted you politely, and turned to Yoongi, saying:

"Hyung, how are you?" he said sweetly. A little too sweetly.

"You wanna smoke weed," stated Yoongi, without turning back.

"Please, hyung, I've waited so long and now I just want to since it's 420."

"Hmm," he finally turned back and looked at you, smiling softly, saying:

"Hi, beautiful, are you okay?"

You were so, so submissive to him when you're high. The thing is, you love him so, so much, and when you're high all this love amplifies. You're literally on your knees for him, never talk back, never saying no, you trust him completely. At the end of the day, Yoongi knows best. So you recreated his smile and said softly:

"Yeah, I'm very good," you said, looking at him, your eyes red, smiling softly, your face flushed, god you were so beautiful. His girl, you were his girl, and he was so proud of this fact. He looked at you lovingly and asked you:

"Can you roll another one for me and Kookie, babygirl?" he leaned down towards you, caressing your face with his thumb softly.

You nodded your head slightly, looking at him softly. He helped you get up and placed you near the table, you took what you needed and started to roll, looking at Jungkook and smiling softly, saying:

"How have you been, Kook? Haven't seen you in a while..."

His boyish grin appeared on his face, replying to you with a teasing tone, but jokingly:

"Why, Y/N? You missed me?"

Suddenly a hand slapped Jungkook over the head, Yoongi looking at him from up to down:

"Watch your mouth, brat."

Jungkook's eyes widened as he instantly replied:

"Sorry, hyung."

"It's done," you said fast, breaking the tension, showing them the joint.

"Light it up, doll," said Yoongi, looking at you.

You did what your boyfriend told you and lit up the joint. You took a hit and filled your lungs, closing your eyes. You loved the feeling of the first hit, and Yoongi knew. You looked ecstatic when you took the first hit, almost as good as when you take his cock. Yoongi smirked looking at you; he couldn't take his eyes off you; you were his center of attention, you were fucking everything to him, and there you are, looking so fucked out and vulnerable for his eyes, that's how much trust you have in him. He's going feral just by knowing this; he loves you much.

"Give it back to me, babygirl, let Kookie have a bit too, hmm?"

You listened to him and handed him the joint, instantly kneeling beside him and hugging one of his legs, resting your head on his thigh. He instantly patted your head; the scene was so domestic. Jungkook was looking at you and couldn't believe it's you; he never saw you high, he didn't know you'd be so obedient, he's getting hard watching you attached to Yoongi's leg; he sees how much power his hyung has over his girl; now he understands why he loves you so much.

Yoongi gives Jungkook the joint and looks at you, smirking:

"You look so good on your knees, doll. Fucking perfect for me, aren't you?"

Jungkook almost coughs when he heard the way Yoongi spoke to you, but the moment he saw the way you rolled your eyes back and let out a pornographic moan, he lost it. He hit the joint again, looking at your face; you looked mesmerizing. Of course, Yoongi saw Jungkook looking, so he smirked and told you:

"Babygirl, I think Jungkook wants to see you suck my cock."

The thought of someone watching while you show Yoongi what a good girl you are for him? That right there made you moan so loud, slipping further into subspace.

"Shit, baby. You want that? You want Kookie to watch? To see how good you are for me?"

You nodded your head, trying to speak but failing.

"C'mon, doll, breathe for me. Yeah, like that. Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want, and I'd give it to you."

You opened your eyes, tears escaping from them; you felt so many emotions as you said:

"I want Kookie to watch while you fuck my face, Yoongi, please."

They both groaned, the joint already smoked, Jungkook with a hand over his pants, palming himself.

"Shit, she's so fucking hot."

Yoongi smirked; he loved showing you off. This pretty little thing that does whatever to keep him pleased, his doll.

"Hear that, princess? Show Kookie how good you look with your pretty lips around my cock, hmm?"

And that's what you did; you unbuckled his jeans and took them down with the boxers, grabbed his leaking cock, and gagged on it; you took him all the way down from the first try.

He moaned loud, gripping your hair, his head back on the couch, biting his lips. The view was phenomenal; you loved seeing him like this; you could cum just from watching him.

"Shit, doll, exactly like that, ahh, you take me like a fucking champ, babygirl."

You moaned around him; you loved being praised, and he knows it. Something about him telling you how pretty you are and how good you are being for him drives you mad.

You started to bob your head up and down his cock, licking and kissing, being a bit sloppy and drunk for his cock, exactly how he loves seeing you.

He gripped your hair tighter and stopped your head movement; you knew he wanted to fuck your face.

"Tap on my leg 2 times if it becomes too much, gorgeous."

You nodded your head, looking at him, then stealing a glance at Jungkook. He was panting, stroking his dick hard, fixing you. That made you clench around nothing, closing your eyes, moaning around Yoongi. He saw and smirked, starting to thrust into your throat.

"You like him watching you, baby? You like being watched, sucking daddy like a good girl?"

You took your hand and placed it over your clit, applying tension and making circles on it. He pushed down further into your throat; your eyes full of tears and mouth full of him; you whine while playing with yourself, everything becoming too much around you.

"Little fucking slut."

Yoongi pushed inside of your throat until you were touching his pubic hair with your nose, making you gag and letting your tears escape your eyes. Loud moans vibrated around Yoongi's cock, and he started to groan when he saw you like that, starting to fuck your face hard, moaning and panting.

"Fuck, doll, you're such a good girl, taking me so fucking good. I'm gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours, sweet girl. Play with yourself harder for me, baby, wanna see you cum, doll, please."

When you heard him, the coil in your tummy exploded, and you saw white, mouth still on his dick, your eyes rolled back, and your body trembling slightly. The view made Yoongi cum instantly in your mouth, with a low moan and a few screams of your name.

Yoongi sat down and pulled you into his arms, cuddling you to his chest, kissing your forehead and giving you water.

He looked at Jungkook, who was breathing hard and looked absolutely ruined, and giggled a bit.

"You came in your pants, little pervert."

Jungkook chuckled, responding to Yoongi:

"I'm sorry I didn't film it; that could be top-notch porn, hyung."

Yoongi giggled and softly traced your back, calming you; you're still recovering. It felt so good being in his arms; you always loved aftercare with him.

"How are you, beautiful? It was too much?" he asked, concerned. You smiled softly at him and replied:

"I love it, Daddy."

Jungkook's face softened watching the interaction you have with your boyfriend; he smiled at the way his hyung looked at you; he thinks you are perfect for each other, soulmates; it actually gave him hope that someday he'll find that someone.

"Hyung, thank you for the weed and the show, but it feels like I already stayed too much," he turned to you and smiled softly as he said:

"Rest well, beautiful, and listen to hyung."

You nodded your head, smiling back, resting your head on Yoongi's chest.

After Jungkook left the room, you closed your eyes, very tired. An intense orgasm and many weed sessions are tiring, so you dozed off to sleep. Yoongi saw and smiled instantly, kissing your temple, saying:

"I love you, doll."

You smiled softly in your sleep, letting yourself drown in his comfort, in one of the best moments of 420 this year.

[patrixjia]

Y/N being a brat on purpose because she likes the punishments

Hyung line

Warnings: suggestive, degradation, punishment, edging, orgasm denial, spanking

A/N: just a subby here who wished these happen to her y’all :)) it’s pure fiction, my imagination, my writing DOES NOT reflect the way the boys really are

Chan

For the last 2 months you’ve played by his rules, you’ve been the perfect little good girl he wanted, but today you felt a bit reckless. You love his spankings, it’s something about his big hands landing on your sensitive skin of your bum. Today was the day when you’re gonna say no, be a brat, you needed the brat treatment, just the tough of it makes your pussy wet.

“Babygirl, the dinner is ready, come eat please” said your beloved boyfriend Chan, and you knew it was your time to shine.

“No, I’m not hungry” you said with a smirk on your lips.

Chan thought that he didn’t quite hear right, you saying no? That’s not something he enjoyed so much. He came by the sofa where you stand playing on your switch, and he asked you:

“Excuse me? I don’t think I hear you right. What did you said, babygirl?”

He wasn’t that angry, not yet at least. So you think you can play harder. Without looking at him, your head invested in the game you played, you said again:

“I said no daddy, I’m not hungry. I don’t wanna”

He look at you in disbelief, what do you mean no? He was tired from today’s schedules, and even so he wanted to cook for you to spoil his babygirl and she said no? He wasn’t having any of that.

“Y/N.”

Now you got him where you wanted. Calling you by your name? He was angry. But it wasn’t quite enough, you decided you could do more, so the moment when you look up at him and told him what you wanted to say, you knew it’s gonna be over for you, your pussy clenching around nothing just by the tought:

“Christopher.”

That was it. The last straw. You calling him by his name? No, this is not happening.

“Bend over my knees. Now. If you’re gonna squirm, cry, scream or anything related to it I’m gonna start over. 10 spanks, you’re gonna count, you hear me, you brat?”

HELL YES. You looked into his eyes and simply told him “Yes, daddy” compling with everything he said.

You bend over his knees, and the moment you put yourself into the position to take your punishment he tore your panties and put his 2 fingers over your pussy which was glistering with your arousal.

You hear him laugh at that, by now he figured out your plan and he said:

“You’ve being a brat on purpose? Hmm, babygirl? You wanted daddy to spank you, princess?”

While he said those words to you, he also put his fingers inside your pussy and start scissoring them, a moan slipped thru your mouth already:

“N-no daddy, ahh, I promise!”

“You fucking brat, also lying to her daddy?”

SPANK.

He caught you by surprise, a sound of pain and pleasure erupted from your month.

“What did I said to you, babygirl? No sounds, or I’m gonna start again. Add 5 more because you didn’t count, yea?”

Lee Know

Minho was scary when he was mad, you knew. But something about mean Minho got you butterflies in your tummy, also, when you were being a brat it always end up with you squirting.

His punishment were not easy, he liked to edge you ‘till the verge of tears and denied your orgasm until he was convinced you deserve to cum.

Today was the day, you wanted to make him mad, so when he asked you if you wanted to go with him at dance practice you knew that was the perfect place.

In one of the breaks, you looked at Changbin and you knew he was gonna be the victim. Without much notice, you said loud enough so your boyfriend could hear you:

“Hey Binnie, you worked out lately? Your arms looks good today!”

At that statement, your boyfriend head snaps at you and he looks at you intensly, but that wasn’t enough. When Changbin attention was on you, you said to him:

“I really wanna go to the gym too but I don’t know where to start. Maybe you can teach me some things, for wannabes”

Changbin smiled at you because he figure it out what you were tryna do, so as a good friend he played along:

“Sure, y/n. If you are free tomorrow, I can show you some things, what do you say, kitten?”

When Minho heard Changbin call you kitten he saw red. Only him gets to call you kitten, and Bin knew. You smiled at Changbin because you knew he was helping you and also to piss off Minho more. When you wanted to respond to Changbin you heard your boyfriend say:

“I’m going home. See you tomorrow. Y/N, get out, now”

At his words you got up and went to the door, looking at Changbin and whispering a “Thank you” to him, he already winked back at you.

You arrive in Minho’s car, pretending that nothing’s happening, and you ask him with your sweetest voice:

“What’s worng, Min? Did something happen?”

He looks at you and you saw how angry he was. He scared you a little but you knew it’s gonna be the ride of your life. He open his mouth and said in his deep voice:

“You wanna be a slut around my friends? It’s not a problem, kitten. I’m gonna treat you like the slut you are, yea? Get in the back, now”

Shit, he is already degrading you, he was mad mad. You get into the back of the car and looked at him with innocent eyes. He asked you:

“What’s your safe word?”

“Teacup” you said looking at him serios in the eyes, a bit scared but excited.

“Good, remember it, yeah? Take your chlotes off”

“But Min, what if someone see us? We are in the parking lot at JYP” you said concerned a little. He just laugh at you saying:

“Let them, everyone needs to know who you belong to. You had to think about that before starting being a whore, yeah? Now put on a show for Binnie, I just text him to come bring me my bottle which I acidentally forgot, yeah kitten?”

Changbin

Changbin never gets mad at you, much of it is because the man loves and cherishes you with all his being.

Sex with him is always vanilla. Don't get me wrong, you love sex with him, he always makes sure you finish first, not just once, at least 3 times.

The thing is that once in a while, when you really piss him off, he fucks you hard, so hard you can't talk. That was his punishment.

Today you felt like he needed to fuck you that way, hard, so you made up a plan to piss him off, of course. Nothing piss Binnie off more than silence treatment. He’s the type of guy who wants to solve his problems with you, he can’t stand you not talking to him, so when he comes in your shared bed and asked you:

“What’s up, Jagi?” you didn’t respond to him. He tought that you didn’t hear him and tell you again:

“Jagiya, hello?”

But nothing. Silence. He started getting worried at first and asked you:

“Jagi what’s wrong, are you mad at me? I did something wrong?”

At that you just glanced at him and turn yourself on the other side, now your back facing him.

Changbin didn’t eat that at all, no. Instead he got mad, pulling you by your hand and turned you to face him telling you in his deepest voice:

“If you’re not gonna talk to me this won’t end well, Y/N. Tell me what is wrong so we can fix it or I’m gonna make sure you won’t walk for the rest of the week, cause I’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you”

You had him. You really had him. So in order for him to do what he told you he would do, you made a gesture you knew it’s gonna be the end for you. You just rolled your eyes, without saying a word.

Changbin was MAD. He pin your hands above your head and placed himself above you, looking strainght into your eyes, saying:

“When I ask you what color are you you’re gonna fucking tell me, understand?”

Fuck yes. You nod your head looking at him. At that he told you:

“Words, princess.”

“Yes, Bin”

He spanked you on your tights.

“That’s not my name, jagi. Tell me again, but use my name properly this time.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Atta girl.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic and you wouldn’t change that for the world. He called you his muse, the way he called you “baby” so sweet, with pure love in his eyes, he loved you endlessly and he’s convinced he can’t live without you.

But also, Hyunjin have a part in him that the world don’t see it, only you see it, when you’re being a brat. His punishments are just like Minho, hard but always end up with you squirting and in bed for at least 2 days, because you feel so sore.

Hyunjin it’s a person who gets angry easily. He have a temper so much like yours, the difference between you two is that he’s turning himself into a hard dom when he’s mad, something that you love with all your heart and pussy.

Today was one of that days when frustration got the best of you, he leave this morning and let you in your shared bed with the promise that he’ll come home as soon as you could, but the problem is you were horny. So, so horny. So you decided to take the problems in your hands and text him:

“Hyuneee, i need you so bad right now…”

You put your phone down and waited patienly on the sofa of your shared apartament for a reply. 2 minutes pass and you hear a notification on your phone, a text from your boyfriend:

“Baby I promise it’s not gonna take long, in max 2 hours I’m home, yeah sweets?”

You groan at his response, 2 hours it’s too long, so you text him back:

“But 2 hours are too long Jinnie, please, I can’t…”

He saw your message immediately, a sign that he is with his phone in his hands, so you text him another one:

“Shit daddy, I need you so bad rn”

He types. And stop. And types again. And stop again. It was agonizing to say at least. Finally, a message appear on your screen:

“Baby, i’m coming home as fast as I can. Don’t forget that you don’t have permission to play with yourself, don’t even think about touching your princess parts, yeah baby?”

At that a smirk appear on your face. You open the camera and record a video of yourself doing exactly what he told you not to, playing with yourself. You press send along with this message:

“But I can’t hold it daddy, ‘m so wet for you, please it hurts”

After 1 minute you saw that he was offline. Fucking prick, who does he think he is? Telling you to not play with yourself and after that ignoring you? No, you’re gonna show him that this time you make the rules.

You went into your bedroom and take the pink vibrator out of your nightstand, turning it on and place it on your clit, some of the tension starting to fade away.

You didn’t hear the door open, you were too lost into your own pleasure to hear your boyfriend coming in your bedroom, leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

After watching for a few seconds, you heard his voice clear when he said:

“What the fuck are you doing? I told you, you don’t have the permission to do that, why would you want to be a brat, today, hmm? You wanted me that badly, baby? You have me, but the moment I start to touch you don’t you dare to even think about cumming until I give you the permission, you hear me sweets?”

[patrixjia]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE MASTERLIST.

Synopsis: You and skz members become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle

SEASON 1 - FELIX. (Completed) Chapters: Part I / Part II / Part III / Extra Hot Reunion

SEASON 2 - LEE KNOW. (Completed) Chapters: Part I / Part II / Part III

SEASON 3 - BANGCHAN. (Completed) Chapters: Part I / Part II / Part III

SEASON 4 - HAN. (Completed) Chapters: Part I / Part II / Part III

SEASON 5 - ??? Coming soon!

[patrixjia]

i miss my 2021 anime phase. like shit was rlly peak back then omfg

[patrixjia]

no nut november with skz

-> where the boys decide to participate to the challenge. who will be the winner ?

-> IMPORTANT : all these works contains smut, minors dni.

enjoy !

❃ day three

-> hwang hyunjin - first to lose

❃ day eight

-> second to lose

❃ day thirteen

-> third to lose

❃ day eighteen

-> fourth to lose

❃ day twenty three

-> fifth to lose

❃ day twenty six

-> sixth to lose

❃ day twenty nine

-> seventh to lose

❃ first of december

-> winner

masterlist

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

[patrixjia]

TRUTH or DARE? Masterlist

Mature content - Minors do not interact.

Stray kids x gn!afab reader

Summary: After a successful Senior year of college, you and your friend group decide to vacation, and host a party that includes a game of Truth or Dare that lasts you all an intense few days. Feelings will be revealed, and truths will be told…

Tags: College!AU, Smut, Explicit content, OT8 Stray kids x Reader

[Please read each chapter for specific warnings.]

Night 1 : Let’s party

Night 2 : Let’s make a movie

Night 3 : Confession

Night 4 : Not into me?

Night 5 : All yours

Night 6 : Surfin

Night 7 : High off you

Night 8 : In the Theaters?

[patrixjia]

Characters: Lee know x Female reader.

Genre: Boxer!Leeknow

Warning: fighting, slight angst, smut, mentions of blood.

Summary: Having a boxer as a boyfriend has its advantages, but the disadvantages are higher.

—————————————————————————————

“Minho.. you can’t fight, again!” I say, following him down the hallway to his changing room. “Y/n, I’ll be fine. Last night wasn’t even that bad.” He says, wrapping his hands with tape, making his way to the fighting ring. “Are you kidding me? You blacked out after the last hit Minho. He nearly put you in the hospital.” Minho chuckles. He turns around a engulfs me in a hug. I fall into his arms, wrapping my arms around him. I take in his musky, cologne smell one last time before he pulls away. “Everything will be alright sweetheart.” He says, kissing my forehead.

Minho makes his way out of the hallway, entering the stadium. People’s cheers grow louder as he makes his presence known. My heart rate increases the closer he gets to the ring. He’s been doing this for years, he knows what he’s doing. But this guy he’s about to fight, is way bigger than him and has won many more matches. I wait for Minho to reach the ring before I walk out with his team to take our seats at the front of the ring.

We all sit down and our seats. My leg nervously bouncing up and down. I’ve been with Minho since the start of his career, but when it comes to his matches, the anxiety of it all never goes away. I worry about him, to be honest… it scared me most times. I tell him it does, but it doesn’t faze him. “It’s our source of income, we need the money.” He always tells me. Of course I tell him there’s other ways of bringing in income, but he doesn’t budge. He lives for the thrill of all of this.

He takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side of the stage, he turns around and gives me a reassuring smile. He mouthes the words “I love you.” Before he climbs over the ledge, squeezing through the ropes. His coach helps put his gloves on, making sure they’re tight enough for the match. He slaps his fists together, the sound of his gloves smacking together rings through my ears.

The bell dings, sounding off the match to begin. Minho moves closer to the other guy, holding his arms in front of his face. The first guy throws a punch, missing Minho as he quickly dodges it. As soon as the guy misses, Minho takes his change to throw a punch, hitting the guy square in the nose. The guy stumbles back a little bit, but quickly catches himself and throws another punch at Minho. He hits him this time, in the forehead. The plastic from his glove causes a cut to form on Minhos temple, blood leaking out of it.

About 10 minutes passes, more than a few hits later. Minho finally kicks the guys leg, sending him to his knees and Minho lands a punch to the guys face. The guy lands on to the stage with a big thud and the referee stands beside them. “One.. two.. three..” he starts counting. The counting sounds out as Minho turns around to look at his coach. I finally see his face clearly, his lip is busted, his temple is swollen, a black bruise is forming under his eye and his nose is bleeding.

“Ten!” The referee yells. Everyone starts cheering again. Minho won. A second referee hands Minho his belt, to which he holds up in the air, causing everyone to cheer louder. Minho rips off his gloves and hands them to his team once he makes his way off of the ring. I look back to the ring, seeing the other guy being put onto a stretcher by the one duty paramedics. I swallow a lump in my throat, thinking about how that could have been Minho if things went south. How I have nightmares about that day happening.

“We’ll meet him back stage y/n.” One of his team members says into my ear. We all make our way to the back of the building, meeting Minho in his dressing room. He’s sat in a chair while a paramedic team tries their best to examine his face. I quickly walk over to him, not caring that I push the paramedics out of the way. “Hey baby.” He smiles. I freeze, noticing the bruise under his eye has doubled in the last three minutes. The blood is still leaking through the dried blood on his forehead and his lip is going to definitely need a stitch.

“Hey.. I’m going to be okay.” He says, giving me that famous ‘it’s going to be okay’ smile. I shake my head, ignoring his statement. I grab the gauze laying next to him on the table and dip it in the alcohol sitting next to them, bringing it up to his face and start to wipe away the blood under and around his lip. He winces when I touch it, causing me to jump the tiniest bit. “You always say you’re going to be okay Minho, but this keeps getting worse.” I whisper. I throw the bloody gauze into the trash and grab the ice pack also laying on the table and gently press it against the lump on his temple.

“Y/n I’m not quitting.” He says sternly. “I can’t. So just give it up.” I let out a huff and throw the ice pack onto the table. “Fine Minho, I give up.” I stand up and grab my purse. Leaving the room, making sure to slam the door on my way out. I make my way to the lobby, calling myself a cab. It arrives not long after.

I make it home, unlocking the door and settling in. I throw my purse and keys onto the entryway table, sliding my shoes off and heading to Minho and i’s bedroom. I strip out of my clothes, feeling dirty from being in that grimy sweat filled place, and start the shower. I get in and try my best to wash everything away. After rinsing my hair the rest of the way, I turn the water off and head to our closet. I find the baggiest shirt Minho owns and slide in over my head, taking in his scent, my body relaxes at the smell.

Having no idea when he’ll be home, I tuck myself into bed. He’ll probably go out for a few drinks with the team, to celebrate his win. ‘Good job Minho, for fucking up your perfect beautiful face.’ I think to myself. Not that it’s actually fucked up. He would always be beautiful, he was just born that way. I quickly feel my eyes growing heavy, and before I know it I drift to sleep.

It’s 3:14am when I hear the front door slam shut. I sit up and turn the bed side lamp on. Minho walks in to the room, he walks into our on sweet bathroom and turns on the shower, stripping himself of all his clothes. Throwing them into a pile in the corner. He leans against the door frame of the bathroom and looks at me. “What?” I ask. He smiles, and starts walking toward me. “You’re so feisty sometimes, you know that?” He asks with a chuckle. He grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger, making me look up at him. “Well, I kind of have to be when my boyfriend is one of the best boxers in the world.” I answer him.

He smiles down at me, before leaning down for a kiss. “Do you want to join me?” He asks, tilting his head towards the shower. “I already showered.” I say. He lets out a dramatic gasp, holding his hand to his chest. “Without me!” He says. I laugh at his dramatic outburst. “Well maybe if you weren’t out celebrating getting your face reconstructed, you would have been here to join me instead.” I say, laying back down and covering up again.

“Excuse me, but my face didn’t get reconstructed, okay? My face is still as perfect as it was before.” He sarcastically says. “Aahhh… I see, well I am so lucky to have you as my boyfriend.” I say with a laugh. “You better be.” He smiles, before heading into the shower.

After about thirty minutes, he returns back into the room. His face looks better cleaned up. The bruises are still bad though. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. Which he drops to the floor once he makes his way into our closet. I watch him as he slides boxers on. His perfectly toned abs contort as he moves, his biceps flex unintentionally as he moves around. He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I am the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call him mine. Staying mad at him was never an option for me. He always knew how to cheer me up, how to put a smile on my face, even when I’m mad at him.

He crawls into bed, making himself comfortable under the covers. “Come here.” He says, holding out his arms. I roll over and climb into them, laying my head against his chest. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” He chuckles. I lift my head, pressing a long kiss against his lips. He brings his hand up, setting it on the back of my head. He deepens the kiss by tapping his tongue against my bottom lip until I let him slide it in against my own. The kiss quickly turns head. He rolls me over so I’m on my back and he climbs on top of me. He slowly starts kissing down my neck, before sliding his shirt I’m wearing, up and over my head, throwing it on to the floor. “You are so beautiful sweetheart.” He whispers, running his hands from my neck all the way to my stomach. Causing goosebumps to form on my entire body. He starts kissing down my stomach, heading straight to where I want him the most. He kisses the inside of both my thighs before sliding my panties to the side. He kisses the top of my heat before looking up at me one more time. “Oh and by the way, I wasn’t out celebrating. I was busy talking to my team…. I quit.” He says. “You wha-” I start to say, but he cuts me off by wrapping his lips around my sensitive clit. Sucking as hard as he can while sliding his middle finger inside of me. “Min-Minho.” I moan. He hums against my pussy, sending a vibration throughout it. I throw my head back letting out moan after moan. Feeling my high reach closer each time he sucks and thrusts his finger back in.

He suddenly stop sucking, sitting up and laying on top of me. Lining his tip up to my heat, sliding it through my soaked folds. “Mmm baby, you feel so good.” He groans, before sliding his member all of the way in to me. I let out a loud moan when he fills me up all of the way. “Feels s-so good Minho!” I moan. He kisses my jawline, before wrapping his dainty, long and beautiful fingers around my throat. “Cum for me baby.” He demands.

His words send me over the edge, I hit my high. My head shooting back and my hands grasp the sheets as I cum around him. His name leaves my mouth more times than I can count. His thrust become sloppy once I cum, I know he’s close. My wet heat tightening around him, as he shoots his load in to me. He lets out a low grunt as he thrusts into me for the last time, collapsing on top of me.

We lay here like this for a while as I run my hand through his long hair. “Did you really quit?” I hesitate to ask, but eventually doing so anyway. “Yes I did.” He says, looking up at me. “You mean more to me than getting money from something my girlfriend hates.” He whispers. “You’ll always be my number one priority y/n.” He says with a soft smile. He kisses the top of my head, before we both drift to sleep.

[patrixjia]

Hanma’s angel. 💅🏻

Suggestive, curse words, Y/N being a good girl for her man, daddy kink.

Hanma is in that club and you’re sure he’s surrounded by girls. You know better than to worry, you know it's a mission and he has to keep an eye on that supposed boy from an opposing gang.

It's not like Hanma does anything else, but when Kisaki called you to tell you about the mission, you felt the evil smile through the phone. No wonder you can't stand Kisaki, all he did from the beginning was just try to break you up.

You're sitting on the couch in the living room and you're restless. Eventually you get up, put on a tight black dress, leather jacket, those red heels and head for the club.

You get there and see Hanma. You try to hide so he doesn't think you don't trust him. The problem is that Kisaki sees you and have already a smile on his stupid face.

You see a girl approaching your boyfriend, gently put her hand on him and whisper something in his ear. You don't go up to him, you want to see what he's doing. You see him take her hand off him and say something, you can't figure out what, and give her a rather cold look.

You smile and realize that you should have trusted him from the start, but to be sure you stay a little longer, just to be sure.

You go to the bar to order a martini. You see the bartender trying to flirt with you and you find it funny, you just think how your boyfriend would react if he noticed, it's thrilling already.

"Baby, you want another drink? It's on the house." says the bartender looking at you like he wants to devour you right there on the bar in front of everyone.

You smile and think about joining in, just to see how Hanma reacts when she sees it, after all you’re sure Kisaki already told him you’re here.

"Yes, please. Can you put more alcohol in it?"

"Want to have a rough night, sweetie?"

You lean gently over the bar and grab his shirt collar to pull him closer to you:

"I think you might be having a rough night soon."

You feel a hand on your thighs, a hand so familiar, pulling you close to a chest you know so well.

"Are you enjoying yourself, angel?"

You smile and look into the bartender's eyes that are now filled with horror, Hanma can be very possesive and scaey, especially when it comes to you.

"Yes love, I missed you, I couldn't wait for you to get home."

“Cut the crap, Y/N. I know Kisaki called you. You still don’t trust me. May I ask why, princess?”

“I trust you. It’s these bitches I don’t trust.”

Hanma grabs your neck and kisses you. After the kiss is over you look into each other's eyes and Hanma tells you in a low voice:

"You behave yourself until I finish the job and then we'll go home and fuck you until morning as a reward for being such a good girl, what do you say?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good. It doesn't have to be long. Hey, you. The bartender who want to fuck my girl, make sure she always have the glass full, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

You see out of the corner of your eye that Mitsuya beckons him over, it means the show is starting.

Hanma walks over to the guy he's been chasing so far, takes his left hand and turns it behind his back to pin him down, she succeeds and knocks him to the floor. All is well until the girl he was with grabs a bottle of alcohol and hits Hanma over the head with it.

Mitsuya wants to jump to his aid but Kisaki stops him by telling him:

"Wait. Y/N saw, this should be fun."

"What are you talking about? Y/N shouldn't even be here, be careful she doesn't get hurt, Hanma will go crazy if anything happens to her."

"Trust me, enjoy the show"

The moment you saw that bitch hit your boyfriend you saw red. That's it. You reached for the bag from which you pulled out the gun Hanma told you to use only in an emergency. This is an emergency, right?

You look at Mitsuya to ask for permission with your eyes so you can unleash. Mitsuya just yells at you:

"Come on princess, she's all yours."

"Thank you, Taka-chan!"

You're a polite girl, you know you're not allowed to interfere in gang business without permission.

You raise your gun up and shoot. It's quiet. The bitch who hit Hanma went cold turkey.

"Bitch, you messing with my man? I'll break you, you hear me?"

“Good girl.” Hanma says with a smile on his face.

By the time the girl runs for the exit, you're smart enough to realize that you've scared her and that's enough. You turn to the man downstairs and say:

"Your bitch ran but don’t worry, you just met your worst nightmare."

"Easy tiger, I can take it from here. Just sit tight, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good fucking girl. Now behave, go to Mitsuya and wait for daddy to finish his job, angel."

You walk towards Mitsuya with a smile on your face.

"I wish Mickey was here, he would have recruited you instead of Hanma." Mitsuya says laughing.

"Thanks for letting me help Hanma, Taka-chan."

"The pleasure was all mine, a real sight for my eyes."

You smile. Hanma quickly take care of that man and you exit the club, get on his motorcycle after saying goodbye to Mitsuya and Kisaki and ride home. When you get home Hanma says:

"Never after me again without telling me, understand? What if something happens to you? You deserve to be punished for that, you know, right?"

"It was worth it at least."

"You are so bratty princess, I think your bum needs a spanking."

"As long as you fuck me after I'm okay with the spanking too, daddy.

"Good girl, now on your kness, you have to suck daddy's cock first, angel.”

[patrixjia]

[patrixjia]

[patrixjia]

-Key