#Skz hard hours

[bambiihee]

𝓑US𝓣 𝓨𝓞UR 𝓚N𝓔𝓔 𝓒A𝓟S 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ 방찬

you can't seem to get away from your ex husband, no matter how hard you try.

⧼ 🩹 ⧽ 一 𝓹a𝓲r𝓲n𝓰 ⸝⸝⸝ ex husband!bang chan 𝓍 fem!reader 𝓲nc𝓵u𝓭e𝓼 ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ unnamed oc daughter

𝓰e𝓷𝓻e ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ non-idol au, smut, angst, porn with plot

𝔀arn𝓲n𝓰𝓼 ⸝⸝⸝ dubcon, street fighter and underground boxer!chan, criminal!chan, mentions of jail and gangs, graphic descriptions of blood and injury, toxic and possessive behavior, toxic ex!chan, manipulation, explicit language and sexual content, soft dom!chan, degredation and praise kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk, breeding kink, impregnation mentions, clit slapping, daddy kink, squirting 𝔀𝓸r𝓭 c𝓸un𝓽. 6. 2 k | ⧼ 🥊 ⧽ 一 𝓽𝓸 𝓵i𝓫rar𝔂.

♫ 𝓫u𝓼𝓽 𝔂𝓸ur 𝓴nee ca𝓹𝓼 ❪ 𝓳o𝓱nn𝔂 𝓭on'𝓽 𝓵eave 𝓶e ❫ 一 𝓹𝓸m𝓹𝓵am𝓸𝓸𝓼e

[n𝓸𝓽e𝓼.] my first fic on my new blog! something shorter to start out with <3 this took me a little too long to write i'm afraid since it's my first go at angst themes but i'm pretty proud of how this turned out! this isn't proofread, so please lmk if there are any mistakes! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

THE KNOCK ON THE door makes your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, cutting through the peaceful quiet of your kitchen like a knife. You drop the pot you were scrubbing in shock, clanging loudly as you grip the edges of the sink in a futile attempt to calm the pounding of your heart. At first you think— hope— that you were simply just hearing things, your little skyline apartment falling back into an uncertain silence sprinkled with the pouring rain outside, an atmosphere that no longer felt comfortable. But the knocking starts again, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, ringing in your ears like alarm bells. You nearly jump out of your skin, your hands shaking as they reach out to turn off the water faucet. There’s only one person who would ever show up at your door this late at night, and you’ve done everything you possibly could to avoid him for the past four months.

It couldn’t possibly be him. It had to be someone else, your landlord or a neighbor or a maintenance man or anyone. You hadn’t told him your new address, hadn’t spoken to him since the day you packed up your daughter and what little you had and left him, never looking back. But you hadn’t called for maintenance, and you hadn’t heard from your landlord, and the way that his fist beat on the door as if it had somehow offended him was unmistakable.

You consider, for a split, mindless moment, that you could simply ignore him. He’s just a man, after all— a weak, spineless one at that, underneath that intimidating façade he loves to hide behind. He’ll give up and leave eventually, you try to convince yourself, but you know him far too well to fall into that blind hope. The knocking only gets louder and more aggressive to the point that you begin to worry that he’ll wake the baby.

The thought alone is enough to get your blood boiling, a red-hot anger overtaking any amount of fear or trepidation that kept you back. You refused to let this coward affect your daughter, wake her up without a single thought or care when you had just spent hours gently rocking her to sleep. Not after everything you’ve went through to keep him away from her.

You hurl the sponge into the sink with a scowl before spinning around and storming to the door. You wrench it open mid-knock, leaving the man on the other side of it standing there with his fist outstretched and blinking at you owlishly.

The sight of him shocks you to your core, despite how much you had tried to prepare yourself— blood drips into his bruised, swollen eye from a large cut on his forehead, just barely visible behind his wet hair sticking to his skin. The rain washes it away, down his chin to drip onto your welcome mat, staining it a faded red in the outline of his scuffed sneakers. He’s drenched down to the bone, the sharp ridges of his pecs and abs visible through his white tee shirt, the thin dark jacket he had draped across his shoulders doing little to protect him from the ever-worsening downpour. His dominant hand he curls protectively against his bloody abdomen; the knuckles are busted, and his pinky finger is twisted unnaturally to the side.

You look back up to his face just in time for him to flash you a weak, wobbly smile, a wounded ghost of the ones that used to send your heart soaring and fill your stomach with butterflies. His plump bottom lip is split down the middle, a jagged crater that threatens to open even further with every movement he made.

“Hey.” he croons, dropping his fist to his side, pained little smile dropping into more of a wince.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” you hiss venomously, praying to any god that would listen that he couldn’t tell how badly you were shaking. “How the fuck did you get my address? Go away before I call the cops. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

“Come on, baby, wait—” you try to slam the door shut, but he catches it with ease, and even one-handed he’s stronger than you could ever hope to be.

“Don’t fucking call me that, Christopher. Answer my question.” You sneer, biting back hot, painful tears.

If any of your words hurt him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he extends his wounded hand, prying open his fingers with some effort to present you a bloody, crumpled wad of bills.

“For her.” He says simply.

Your eyes rake over the bills as if they were alien, hardly able to muster up the breath needed to scoff at him incredulously. “I don’t want your dirty money.”

You had a sneaking suspicion of just exactly where he had gotten that money from, it was written all over his busted, bleeding face— under no circumstances would you line your pockets with the bettings from street fights, feed and clothe your daughter with money that people had shed blood for. You had told him this when you had left him, given him the choice to leave it all behind or lose everything.

He chose the streets, and you kept your promise.

Yet you don’t have the strength to slam the door in his face, no matter how much you ached with the desire. Chan keeps the bills outstretched, the blood-smeared faces printed on them winking up at you, taunting you.

“Who told you where I live.”

“…A friend. Please, just take it.” He whispers, just short of begging. “I know how badly you need it. He told me you were struggling.”

“You don’t know anything.” you spit, but there’s no fire behind your words anymore. The rain has put it out, left you defeated, feeling betrayed, admiring how the streaks of lightning illuminate Chan’s hunched over silhouette. Your mind wracks itself for whichever one of his goons could have possibly caught sight of you, but you come up empty. You fear he may have found you through an inside source.

 Thunder booms in the distance, much like your heart. The helpless, desperate look in Chan’s big brown eyes sends the rest of your defenses crumbling to dust.

he tries to shuffle his way inside, and you let him— everything inside of you yells at you to stop him, shove him away and close the door, never to look at him again. But you don’t. You slide submissively to the side, open the creaking door open further for him to step into your living room. No matter how hard you try to convince your muscles to move or your mouth to open and retort, all you can do is stand frozen by the door, watching with wide eyes as he drips blood onto the carpet.

He tosses the stack of cash onto the coffee table, the bills unfurling and flying everywhere. You count six, maybe seven million won, all those zeroes staring up at you as your mouth goes agape.

You had been losing sleep for days over having to tell your landlord that you would be late on rent for the third time this year. Somehow, you feel like Chris knows that, though it was impossible to tell how— it brought you back to all the times before where you swore that he could read your mind.

It seems that he still could, even out in those dark alleyways, on the other side of the city. Tethered to him. Just what you were afraid of.

“You’re getting blood everywhere,” you finally manage to say, your usually strong voice timid and weak. “at least let me clean you up.”

Mindlessly, you scamper back to your kitchen, bending down to rummage through the cabinet beneath the sink. your first aid kit was still in there somewhere, hidden behind a mountain of cleaning supplies and spare bottles, something from your old life that you had held on to just in case. It was as if you were moving in a trance, just sheer muscle memory, the situation all too familiar; you couldn’t count the amount of times Chan had come home just like this before, back when you were still together, beaten and staggering but grinning victoriously as you carefully clean and bandage him up. It used to excite you, even, in some sick, dark way. He never lost a fight.

But that was before you had gotten pregnant. Before the danger that lurked beneath the surface of your husband’s lifestyle creeped up on you and became all too real.

“I’m fine.” Chan replies gruffly, though the pain in his voice suggests otherwise. “I just want to see my baby girl.”

Your fingers freeze around the first aid kit, all the heat and color draining from your face. “You’re not seeing her.”

“You can’t keep me from her.” Chan replies coldly. “She’s my daughter, too.”

You jump to your feet so fast that your vision goes fuzzy, spinning around to watch with wild eyes as he balances his good hand on the wall and limps his way to the nursery. You hate how he still remembers where it is.

He smears a trail of blood across your tattered wallpaper. The sight of it shocks you into action.

“You get away from her!” You snarl, nearly leaping across the dining table to grab onto the sleeve of Chan’s jacket. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near her!”

He shoves you off effortlessly, his sheer strength nearly sending you flying back against the wall. “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt her.” He growls, making it to the nursery door in the time it takes for you to regain your senses. “You know I’d never let anyone lay a single fucking finger on her.”

He quietly cracks the door open and steps inside, leaving you to follow him biting your tongue— you can’t bear the thought of her waking up, especially now with Chan in the room. She hasn’t seen her father since she was born, and that was only because he had forced his way inside of the delivery room. He was essentially a stranger to her.

And, quite frankly, how she might react if she lays eyes on him again scares the shit out of you.

Chan staggers to the crib, quiet as a mouse, his large frame bending over the railings to look down into it. Your daughter lay on the mattress peacefully asleep, her little chest rising and falling with her soft, steady breaths. You’ve stared at her for hours before, studying every freckle, every wispy eyelash that brushed against her rosy, round cheeks. The way her nose is already starting to look like her father’s, his dimples forming around the upturned corners of her dainty little lips, always giving the impression that she was enjoying her dreams. Whatever they were, you took some comfort in knowing that they were, they’re better than what waits for her when she opens her eyes.  

Chan is nothing short of entranced, grabbing ahold of the crib’s railings with both hands, so tightly that his cracked knuckles were threatening to split back open. He gazes at her sleeping little form with a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before— a fire burning, but not one that hurt or destroyed. Not anything like the fire in his eyes you were used to. It was one that warmed and protected, the watchful, dutiful stare of a weathered knight in armor.

Something warm and heady swirls in your gut, unwelcome but in no way unpleasant. You fixate on his face, unable to look away, and watch awe-stricken as your ex-husband refamiliarizes himself with his daughter’s face.

“She’s grown.” He whispers, undoubtedly able to feel you breathing over his shoulder. His voice is flat and lifeless, but it starts to break at the end— he blinks hard, and you swear for a second that you saw his eyes shiny with tears.

“Oh, she’s a monster.” You reply easily, the rampant emotions swirling around in your head calming down at the sight of your baby peacefully sleeping. Talking about her is soothing, almost therapeutic. “Always hungry. The doctor says she’ll be nearly nine kilograms by the time she’s six months.”

“My little girl… she was so tiny in my arms…” Chan laments, lowering his eyes to look down at his hands. It was like he was looking at someone else’s, shocked by the dirty, bloodied state of them. He suddenly wrenches them from the railings and shoves them in his soaked jacket pockets, the act causing him to grimace with pain. In the peripherals of your vision, you see faint bloody fingerprints smeared across the white wood.

You struggle to keep your voice calm. “She’s gotten so big so fast… it feels like that day was just yesterday.”

Chan’s gaze hardens and grows cold again, his head spinning to stare you down with an ironclad sharpness. “Not to me!” he spits, gritting his jaw. “Not when you wouldn’t let me ever fucking see her, wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were doing. I’ve been looking for you two for months. How am I supposed to keep you safe, my baby safe? I had to track my family down like dogs. What kind of mother keeps a father away from their child?”

Your shoddy mask of calmness cracks, red hot anger flaring back up again and rising to the surface. Your voice trembles terribly, but the disgust in your words is palpable. “She’s not your fucking baby, Chris! That’s my baby. Mine. You made that call before she was even born. You’re not her family, you’re hardly even her father— you’re nothing to her.”

The last comment strikes a chord within him. He stalks towards you, his dark eyes boring into yours, all that stormy emotion churning in them focusing directly onto you. Chan isn’t exceptionally tall, but you feel so incredibly small underneath him; he looms over you like some kind of predator, his lip curling back into a nasty snarl. “I’m nothing to her because you made it that way.” He seethes, his deep voice growing louder and louder. “Don’t you ever try to put it in my baby’s head that I don’t love her. Stop trying to convince yourself, for fuck’s sake— you both are absolutely everything to me, you know that. Everything that I do is for our future.”

You scoff. “If you really care that much about “our future”, you would have stopped this. Fighting for these clubs. The racing, the gangs. You would have listened to me and left it all behind, gotten a real job. Show me that you actually give a shit and aren’t just blowing smoke up my ass. You’re addicted to this, all of it. It’s sick.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Chan sneers, shoving his face up against yours. “You just can’t get it into your dumb, pretty little head. What kind of “real job” is gonna take an ex-con? Even if they do, I wouldn’t make nearly as much money as I can out on the streets. All I want to do is provide for you and our daughter; can’t you see that? I’m doing what I have to do to survive. My own future is fucking ruined. You two are all I have left.”

“And you’ll ruin ours too!” you laugh incredulously, directly in his face. “With all your blood money and all the enemies you make. You’re going to get arrested and locked up again, destroy mine and my daughter’s lives— fuck, you’ll get us all fucking killed! What if someone you beat wants revenge?! These are dangerous people, Chris!”

“That’s what I’m trying to protect you from!!” Chan roars, slamming his fist against the crib’s guardrail. His voice and the loud thump startles you, all three of you— you and Chan both peer down into the crib to see your daughter’s peaceful sleeping face screw up, her mouth opening to let out a shrill wail as she kicks out her little chubby legs.

Chan’s face falls, all the bitterness and anger leaving his body in a rush, like he had a bucket of cold water poured over the head. He looks the part, anyway, still dripping wet from the rain, tearing his eyes away from your own to stare down at your daughter as if she were a ghost. Your rage overtakes you to the point it can no longer contain it, your entire body shaking as you manage to grit out two icy words;

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, he does. He takes one last long look at your fussing daughter before slowly turning and shuffling out of the nursery.  Your eyes bore holes into his back as he retreats, expecting him to turn around at any moment with some more nasty words to sling your way… but he never does. He stays completely silent as he shoulders open the door, doesn’t even turn to look back at you as it clicks shut behind him.

Part of you wants to follow him, chase him out snarling and snapping like some guard dog, but your daughter’s frightened little cries tug painfully at your heart strings. Tears of your own pool in your eyes as you carefully lift her out of her cot and snuggle her against your chest, soothing your hand down her quivering back as she hiccups into your sweater. “Shhh, it’s okay… you’re safe, Mommy’s got you…”

You rock her until she falls asleep again, fighting the entire time not to break out into sobs yourself, and when you finally place her back down into her crib and slip out of the nursery, you’re not at all surprised to see Chan still in your apartment, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands.

Your apartment looks like a fucking crime scene. For the first time tonight you’re able to take everything in, all the blood dripped on the floor and smeared on the walls. All the muddy shoeprints and puddles of rainwater. The cabinets under the sink are still swung open, your first aid kit left forgotten on the kitchen floor.

You don’t have the energy to be mad at Chan anymore, your gaze lingering back on his weathered frame. You don’t have the energy to feel anything except empty. Depleted.

Wordlessly, you pick the first aid kit off the floor and make your way to Chan. He lets you cup his face without a fight, raise it out of his hands so you can dab an alcohol pad against the cut on his forehead. The sting makes him wince, but he doesn’t try to move away, looking up at you with eyes full of stars as you wipe away the dried blood from his skin. The dim lamp by the couch cast dark shadows across his handsome face, bathing him in a sensual, intimate light. You can’t bear to look back into them, the way they make your heart twist painfully in your chest, deep chocolate brown so effortless to get lost in. You busy yourself with bandaging up his forehead, and then his lip, and then his busted hand.

“Why are you doing this?” Chan whispers softly, the question making you stop in your tracks.

“I… don’t know.” You admit after a long pause. You do it without thinking, just like when he first stepped inside. Your natural response after seeing him hurt so many times before, playing nurse while he boasts to you about his triumphs, fills you with empty promises and proclamations of love. Your hero, swearing to you that you were his savior. Everything in you still aches to soothe him, heal his wounds and numb his pain, be his guardian angel like you used to be before his suffering became your own.

If he were addicted to the fighting, you would be addicted to what came after.

“I know you still love me.” Chan professes boldly, a wild spark in his eye. “I know you do, baby— you know I love you too. More than anything. Why won’t you let this— us—work? Why are you trying to run away from me?”

Your fingers pause in the middle of wrapping up his knuckles in gauze, quivering slightly as you let out an agonized sigh. “It’s not about whenever or not I love you, Chris. I have to put our daughter first. I have to make sure she’ll be safe and happy.”

You barely manage to finish bandaging up his hand, your knotting work far from the best. The minute you let go of him he pulls you right back, his big hands enveloping yours and squeezing tightly. “She will be, I promise. I’ll keep both of you safe, never let anything happen to either of you— I’ve got the means to keep you protected no matter what happens. You’re my everything… I’m so lost without you.”

His bandaged hand slides up to caress your cheek, his skin so bitterly cold. “Channie…” you warn, but you’re the weakest you’ve been all night. Chan can see it in your eyes.

“I was so fucking worried about you.” He continues softly, hushed like he was kneeling for confession. “I’ve missed you so bad… please, baby, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

Breaking feels a lot like letting go. Dropping all your fear and worry, any semblance of rational thought to finally allow yourself to nuzzle into Chan’s touch. He knows you too well, always knows exactly what to say to get your walls to come crashing down, what to do to when the smoke clears and you’re left defenseless amongst the rubble. Because, underneath all the piling resentment and hatred, the divorce, the distance you’ve been fighting for, you truly do still love him. You fear you always will.

Your eyes flutter closed as you bask in Chan’s affection, preen under his loving gaze and delight in the way he cradles you as if you were made of glass— you feel so precious yet so fragile, yielding to a man strong enough to shatter you completely, leave you nothing but a pile of dust and broken shards.

You’ve never felt safer.

“God, you’re so pretty…” he whispers awestruck, under his breath almost as if he were talking to himself. His thumb maps out the curve of your cheekbone, down, down, down to your pliant, pouting lips. The pad of it is hardened and calloused, rough against the soft skin of your bottom lip, but the sensation leaves you aching for more; you open your eyes to bat your eyelashes up at him, open your mouth to invite his thumb to creep inside.

The flash of carnal, animalistic lust in his eyes sends a wave of liquid fire coursing through you, down your spine to where it pools heavy in your belly. You purse your lips around his thumb and suck it in deeper, hollowing your cheeks as if you were sucking on something else entirely. Chan groans deep in his chest, his other fingers curling tight around your chin to pull you towards him. “Fuck. Come here, babygirl.”

You surge forward to capture your lips with his, and he meets you halfway; the pillow softness of his lips are hauntingly familiar against yours, yet somehow they feel completely brand new, like uncharted territory in a land you’ve ventured in countless times before. Any chastity is quickly tossed to the side with the heady sensation of his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, the warmth in your belly heightening into a wild swirl. You’re shocked by your own eager response, opening up immediately to let him ravish your mouth with a forceful domination that left you weak. He pulls you effortlessly onto his lap, your legs spreading to wrap instinctively around his waist, the closeness of your bodies maddening. Your blood pounded in your ears, leapt from your heart with a scalding fire, and made your body tremble, senses reeling as if you had short-circuited. Clashing emotions whirled around in your head, but your consciousness had left you the minute your lips made contact with his. All you can think of is how passionately Chan devoured you, the force of his kiss almost punishing, like a soldering heat that bonds metal. Yet it felt like anything but a punishment, doused in a honeyed sweetness that called to you like a drug, dragged you under the waves of dreamy tenderness, filled your head with thoughts of how good it would feel to let yourself drown.

You kiss him back with reckless abandon, hands reaching out to hold him, anywhere you possibly can— the wispy hairs at the base of his neck, the worn leather of his jacket, the grooves of his defined muscles through the fabric of his wet tee shirt. He crushes you against him, swallows you within his big beefy arms, one of his hands running down the small of your waist to grab a fat handful of your ass. You gasp against his mouth as his touches grow bolder, massaging the globes of your ass and guiding your hips to glide against his. The outline of his half-hard cock pokes at you through his jeans, growing thicker and stiffer with every passing second, pressed perfectly against the curve of your cunt. Your sleep pants are thin enough to where it feels like you’re wearing nothing at all, and when Chan cants his hips up his bulge grinds right against your clit. He does it again, and again, until you’re squirming helplessly against him, panting and moaning into his mouth.

“Chan, we can’t do this…” you manage to stutter out between kisses, the reality of the situation finally beginning to dawn on you again. But Chan ignores your plea, his lips leaving yours to sear a path down your neck and shoulders. He nibbles at your skin, kisses the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat, distracting you enough to slide one of his hands to cup your pussy.

“Yes we can.” He croons against your heated skin, hot tongue escaping between his lips to lick a tantalizing stripe up your neck. “I can feel how wet this pussy is, baby, how needy you are for me. Just let me in, princess, let me take care of you…”

He slides his fingers down your covered slit, your clothes sticking to your mound with your sopping juices, drenched to the point you can’t possibly hide your arousal. Your engorged clit aches, empty hole clenches around nothing… you whimper pathetically in defeat.

“Come on, say it. Say you want me.”

You really were nothing but an addict. Addicted to the power he holds over you.

“fuck, oh f-fuck— right there!”

Chan knows every single spot inside of you to make you scream, his thick cock hitting each one expertly with each of his powerful thrusts. The angle he has you bent in makes you see stars, his big rough hands clasped tight around your ankles to push your legs up against your chest and spread you wide open— he’s never fucked you this roughly before, his feet planted on the mattress to pound into you animalistically, but even then there’s still a bitter tenderness to the way he holds you up against him, gazes down at you in rapture as you fall apart beneath him.

“Yeah? Right there?” He coos, deep Aussie accent dripping with poisoned honey, “Feel me all the way in your tummy, baby? Feel this fat cock splitting you open? Fuck, you’re so tight, sucking me in. Greedy little cunt.” He lets go of one of your ankles to press down on the bulge he’s made in your belly, your trembling leg curling over his shoulder in ecstasy as the pressure in your core increases.

“So deep!” you hiccup stupidly in reply, fisting the sheets as your world explodes and shatters behind your eyelids. His bulbous cockhead slams repeatedly against your cervix in a punishing rhythm, so deep inside of you that you mindlessly fear that he’s pushed through and was fucking your womb. “Deep! S-so fucking big!”

Chan growls like a beast, his efforts doubling in speed and intensity, “Missed this cock, didn’t you, princess? God, listen to how fucking wet you are. Hear how badly this cunt needed me?”

He emphasizes his claim with a particularly harsh thrust, your pussy squelching obscenely around him and filling your dark, quiet bedroom with loud, filthy noises. “C’mon, tell Daddy how badly you missed this.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you worry that you’ll wake up the baby again. Chan fucks you loudly and shamelessly, like he doesn’t care that your daughter sleeps in the room just across the hall... the thought reignites your anger.  You want to accost him, defy him, tell him that you didn’t miss him at all. That you weren’t desperate for him to make you cum and finally leave you satisfied after months of frustration. That you didn’t think of him at night when you played with yourself, or when you took another man to your bed, because as much as it agonizes you no other man has ever made you feel as good as he does. But you couldn’t string the words together, could hardly even think with how pleasure coursed through every fiber of your being. Besides, Chan knows when you’re lying.

“M-missed your c-cock,” you admit between whimpers and moans, your face burning with shame and arousal. “M-missed Daddy’s cock so fucking much, needed it so bad— oh, fuck, Chris, Daddy, please—!”

Chan snatches your hips and tugs you roughly towards him, lifting your bottom half up off the bed to fuck into you impossibly deeper. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of sweet agony, arching your back and tossing your head against the pillows. The show of sheer strength gets you impossibly wetter, your juices coating his heavy balls as they clap wetly against your ass. “Good pussy.” He grunts, his fingers digging bruising indents into the flesh of your waist. “Love this pretty little pussy— gonna fuck it ‘til it’s molded to my cock. Gonna ruin you for anyone except for me. This cunt belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby? God, look at you… taking it like such a good girl.”

His words make your head spin, a searing need building in your core, molten lava beneath your skin heating your thighs and groin. It feels divine, better than you ever remember… but it’s not enough to send you over the edge, give you that release you crave so desperately. “Need more,” you keen, “More, Daddy, please!”

“Greedy girl.” Chan chuckles darkly, the sound going straight to your cunt. “Tell me what you need, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t respond, fucked so stupid you don’t know what you’re begging for— Chan tsks like he’s disappointed, letting go of your hips with one hand to grab a rough fistful of your hair. He tugs your head up to look at him, dark eyes dripping with lust and delicious dominance; you struggle to keep your eyes open, your vision swimming and your eyelids drooping from the onslaught of pleasure Chan continues to pound into you. “Too dumb on cock to speak? C’mon, pretty girl, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.”

He tugs on your hair again, pain erupting across your scalp. It blends with your pleasure to create a heady, dizzying cocktail of ecstasy. You cry out in delight, letting go of the bedsheets to scramble for something sturdier to hold on to, ground you— your hands find purchase on your own tits, bouncing with Chan’s thrusts, and you knead the plump flesh with a wanton sob, your fingers twisting and pinching at your nipples hard enough to make you shake.

“My clit!” you finally manage to whimper out, broken and pathetic. “My clit, my clit— touch me, touch my clit, please!”

He does as he promised, leaning back to spit messily on your clit before letting go of your hair to circle the bud with his thumb. Your head falls back limply onto the pillows, hazy eyes rolling back in your head as you sob and hiccup in uncontrollable pleasure.

“Gettin’ close, babygirl? I can feel it, pussy squeezing me so tight— I’m close too, fuck, gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you!” Chan’s thrusts grow sloppy, his chest heaving as he pants open-mouthed like a dog. “How about that, hm? Want me to put another baby inside of you? So everyone knows not to touch what’s mine? I’ll breed this pussy so fucking full you’ll be dripping my cum for days…”

His words should scare you, should break whatever spell he’s put you under and have you begging him to pull out. But you’ve slipped away from reality, floating mindlessly in an erotic fantasy you’ve convinced yourself is too good to be true. You don’t want to wake up, don’t want to think about what lies ahead of you once Chan leaves your bed once again. You babble and beg for his cum, for him to bring you to your own climax, scratching deep red marks into his chest. They look at home amongst all the bruises.

“Tell me you love me.” Chan grunts abruptly, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down to barely moving, his cock dragging along your gummy walls deliciously buy far too slowly.

You blink up at him in shock and confusion. “H-huh?”

“Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum.” He repeats, his eyes boring into yours, a knowing look in his eyes like he can see into your soul. “I love you so much, and I’m gonna show it with all this cum I’m gonna pump into this sweet cunt… don’t you love me too? Just say it and I’ll give you what you want, what you need…”

You’re just on the precipice of orgasm, teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over, and your poor heart feels so exposed and raw… you can’t help but relent to him, succumb to his desires like you always do.

“I love you! I-I love you, Channie, Daddy, love you s-so much— ah!!”

His hips pick up to a speed that seems nearly superhuman, rutting into you wildly like an animal in heat as he grunts and groans, pinches your clit hard between his thumb and forefinger to make you scream. It feels so good, too good, and big watery tears roll down your cheeks as your body begins to vibrate with your orgasm. You’ve never cried during sex before.

“Let go, my love.” Chan croons, slapping your clit lightly. “Let it all out…”

Your orgasm hits you like a tsunami, a tidal wave of explosive hysteria— with a shriek you squirt everywhere, all over Chan’s hand, belly, thighs, creamy droplets flying with every nasty wet thrust. Your gummy walls spasm around his cock, sucking him in deeper as if to ensure you milk him dry. “That’s it, babygirl, cum for daddy!” Chan howls, intent on talking you through it even as he creeps closer and closer to climax himself. “Fuck yes, such a good girl, making a mess for me— gonna cum now, too, gonna breed this pussy! Ready for it? Gonna take it all, right princess?”

“Yes! Yesyesyes, please, please! Give it to me, daddy!”

He shoots his load deep inside of you with an animalistic growl, hot and thick painting your walls creamy white. It feels never ending, fat cock twitching with every spurt of seed he dumps into your womb, filling you up so much that thick globs of it spills out around him and drips down his balls to mix with the puddle forming on the soaked bedsheets. His legs give out and he collapses against you, gasping for breath with his face buried in your chest; you wrap your weak, trembling arms around his neck, and the two of you dissolve into breathless giggles as you slowly grind against each other ride out your highs. When Chan finally pulls out you see a foamy white ring around the base of his softening cock, sticking in his pubes.

You can feel your spent cunt leak his seed, dripping down your ass— Chan stares at in in awe, his fingers sliding up your sensitive folds to collect it and push it back inside.

“So beautiful…” he whispers, grinning as he admires your creamy bred pussy. His fingers at your hole makes you whimper in overstimulation, and you try to close your legs and squirm away, making him laugh. His eyes crinkle in that adorable way you hate to love so much. “You’re so beautiful.”

You don’t have the heart to make him leave, not when he runs you a warm bath and cleans you up so nicely. Not when he strips the bed and changes the sheets for you so you can lay comfortably, holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your hair. Not as he promises to you that he’ll change, that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in his arms, that white picket fences are just over the horizon. You feel weightless, floating, satisfied… and that makes you feel sick.

©YEONINGZ, 2025. please do not repost, copy, or translate any of my works in any way, shape, form, or fashion. all rights reserved.

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[jeonginsleftcheek]

Can I see your d*ck? (pt 2)

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

synopsis: after asking your best friend the question, you are now dealing with the consequences.

wc: 1.0k

warnings: fingering, oral (f), squirting, lots of dirty talk

a/n: hope y'all enjoy the second part of this!🫶🏻

masterlist

"Only one finger got you falling apart like this, hm?" Felix mocks and you smirk at him.

"You wanna see what two get me like?"

He laughs, the bastard.

"I hope you know what you got yourself into, sweetheart." he teases, pulling his finger out, gently running it over your folds that were now glistening with your release.

"Show me." you say breathlessly.

"Should I?" he quirks an eyebrow, his hands on your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh a little.

"Felix, I swear to god-"

"What are you gonna do, baby?"

"I'll smack you." you threaten even though you know it's empty.

Felix chuckles and blows on your pussy.

"Don't do that." you whine and he keeps chuckling as he leans in closer. "What are you-"

"Shh." he shushes you, his lips pressing into your clit.

"L-Lix!" you gasp, your face becoming red.

"You still wanna see my dick?" he looks all smug.

"Yeah." you nod.

"Well, I need to have you all relaxed for me then." your gorgeous best friend chuckles and you almost die right then and there as he flattens his tongue against your pussy, licking up your release.

"Mm." he groans into you, eyes fluttering shut as he works his tongue on you. Your toes curl and you get the urge to squeeze his head with your thighs as he wraps his plump lips around your clit and starts sucking.

"Ah!" you moan, jolting a little and Felix locks eyes with you.

Seeing him like that between your legs is such a sinful picture, one you dared to enjoy in your mind only late at night while playing with yourself.

Embarrassment washes over you when you remember just how many times you came on your fingers and toys while thinking of your hot best friend. You shut your eyes tightly, feeling your entire body burn at the way he keeps dipping his tongue between your folds.

"Taste so sweet, baby. Could eat you out forever." Felix smirks, his deep voice sending shivers up your spine.

You look down at him again, hesitating to touch him as you slide your hand towards him slowly.

Felix takes your hand and encourages you to grab hold of his hair.

"You can pull hard, sweetheart."

The audacity of this man.

He spreads you with his fingers, his lips wrapping around your clit again and you grip his hair. A low groan escapes his lips and you gasp when you feel his fingertips pressing at your entrance.

"Think you're ready to take more?"

"Yes." you say confidently and he chuckles.

"We'll see." Felix teases, slowly pushing two of his fingers inside you, eyes trained on your pussy squeezing them and sucking them in.

Your thighs tremble while he slowly opens you up, the stretch now bigger than just one finger.

It makes you feel dizzy.

"Felix." you moan and grip his hair as he licks at your clit.

"Still so tight." he smirks and you whine. "You gotta relax, sweetheart."

"I'm trying." you say and Felix lifts up, pushing his fingers deep inside you and you whimper, clenching around him.

He slowly moves them against your gummy walls and leans down to capture your lips in his. You can taste yourself on his lips and it feels dirty but so, so good.

He pushes his tongue into your mouth, making out with you as he curls his fingers and fucks you a little harder. Every moan you let out gets swallowed as he keeps kissing you passionately.

His free hand slides under your shirt and cups your breast, his thumb brushing against your sensitive nipple.

"F-Felix!" you whimper when he pinches it and he just smirks at you.

"Look at you." Felix growls lowly, fucking you faster, the squelching sounds of your pussy making you feel embarrassed and hot at the same time. "Being a good girl for me."

You squeeze hard around his fingers and Felix lets out a chuckle.

"Like being called that?" you nod.

"Then cum for me, hm?" Felix says, fingers curling into that special spot that makes you tingle everywhere, his other hand playing with your nipple, pinching and pulling on it.

Your hand flies up to his arm and you grip at his bicep as your hips start lifting up into his hand.

Felix watches you in awe as you shake and moan his name, your face flushed and your thighs squeezing around his wrist.

"Come on, baby." he encourages and you moan loudly, digging your nails into him as you explode, squirting for the first time in your life and making both of you gasp.

"Shit!" you whimper, your face heating up.

"That's hot." Felix pulls his fingers out of you slowly and looks at your pussy clenching around nothing. "Good girl." he lifts up and hovers over you, his hands on either side of your head as you breathe hard, still coming down.

"That never happened before." you say sheepishly and Felix laughs.

"I figure because no one ever fucked you this good."

You smack his shoulder with your fist.

"Shut up b-" you start but become quiet when he lowers his middle into yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing against you hotly even through the layer of clothes he had on.

"You're one step closer to seeing it." Felix gives you one good grind with his length before lifting up and making you whine. "Just giving you a little taste."

"Why are you so mean?" you pout and blink at him, trying to be as cute as you can so he gives you some mercy.

But Felix had other plans.

"A deal is a deal. Three fingers or nothing."

"Ugh, you're insufferable!" you slap his arm but Felix just keeps laughing because he knows you won't say no.

"What's it gonna be, sweetheart? Wanna continue or?"

"Fine. Let's continue." you nod and Felix smirks smugly.

"I love to hear that. Maybe you'll get to see what you want the most very soon."

@moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @hwangjoanna @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @my-neurodivergent-world @hyyunjinnn @spookybuttsstuff-blog @pancake-freckle @felixsbrowniesarmystayengene

[krosiefics]

is that a bet? • stray kids ot8 x reader

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: at some point of playing ‘never have I ever’, you make a bet that you could make all eight of your best friends cum within 10-15 minutes…and well, you did.

WC: 3.7k (I have issues)

Tags: PURE SMUT, afab!reader, softdom!chan, dom!minho, dom!changbin, softdom!hyunjin, sub!jisung, sub!felix, dom!seungmin, switch!jeongin, switch!reader, piv, unprotected sex (wrap the eggplant yall), same hole double penetration, ass smacking, squirting, begging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spitting, oral (f. receiving), lwk gangbang, praise (pretty, good girl), degradation (slut, whore), light dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, biting(?), grinding, pet names (baby, babe, princess, hun, darling, kitten, bun, etc), marking/hickey, probably forgetting some…sorry :P

a/n: this is so smutty i am so sorry…but yw 🫠

You don’t remember how exactly you ended up in this position…something about a bet, yet here you are, half-naked spread out on the floor with eight pairs of eyes burning into your body.

8 minutes earlier

“Never have I ever,” Minho pauses in thought, “nutted before my partner.”

“What the actual fuck Minho.” Seungmin grimaces, though he takes a swig of soju. “What?!” Minho shrugs defensively, “It makes the game more interesting.”

“That’s a fucking lie though.” Jisung snorts as he also takes a shot of soju. “And how would you know that?” You ask with a sly smirk.

“I’ve seen him watch porn,” He deadpans, which sends everyone into a fit of laughter.

“You wanna bet Ji?” Minho challenges.

“Y’all seriously aren’t about to jerk off right here…right?” Chan looks at them in disgust and then at the white shag carpet underneath them, “Why, you wanna join?” Minho pokes.

“I bet none of y’all virgins can stop yourselves from cumming as soon as someone touches you.”

“You wanna make that bet.” Changbin chimes in. You groan at them which catches their attention, “Do you have something to say princess?” Jisung raised his brows teasingly. You groan yet again at the nickname before saying, “I bet I could make all y’all cum in fifteen, maybe ten minutes.”

“You really wanna do this?” Hyunjin lifts your chin with his finger. “Hmm,” you hum, “if you guys cum before I do, a hundred…from each of you.”

“That’s eight hundred bucks!” Jeongin blurts out, you nod slyly. “And if we win?” Felix tilts his head. “Y’all can decide on that.” you state.

You move to get up, dragging your hoodie over your body and exposing your oversized shirt underneath. You turn around looking at the eight boys. “Are we doing this or not?”

Everyone unanimously agrees. It went so fast, the soju from the previous rounds probably getting to everybody’s heads and letting you carelessly make these decisions.

“Oh and rules-“ “RULES?!” Minho, Seungmin and Jisung cried out. “Guys it’s her body, she can make rules.” Felix interrupts their protests. “Thanks Lix,” You smile before continuing, “no touching…well to be more clear no touching me or yourselves…but I can touch you.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed in disappointment.

“It makes the game more interesting.” You shrug, spewing Minho’s previous words at them, the said boy shoots you a playful glare.

You glanced over at the digital clock that hung from the wall. 12:48.

Present

And well, that’s how you ended up here.

Your hand trails down your body stopping at your soaked panties before circling over your clit, toes curling at the feeling.

You stare up at the eight boys, their eyes dazed on your leaking cunt that stains your panties. You let out a moan as you hook your fingers around the material and slip it down your legs, exposing your now bare glistening cunt. You let a finger plunge into your heat, biting your lip. You lock eyes with Changbin, his knuckles gripping at his sweatpants, the outline of his cock bulging through the material. You bite your lip as you stare at his bulge.

The sound of a small whine prompts you to look over at another flustered and painfully hard boy. Jisung looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. “Please, Y/N.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” You coo, pulling your fingers out of your cunt and crawling ever so slowly towards the round cheeked boy. As you settle by his side, you purposefully arch your back and push your ass out so that the guys sitting criss crossed on the floor behind me have a nice view. You trail your fingers up his knee and towards his thigh

He shivered under your touch as you made your fingers dance along his inner thigh. A desperate whimper left his mouth as you pulled back teasingly and went back to your original spot on the shag carpet.

“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathed out, “you’re ethereal.” His usually perfectly sculpted face contoured into a needy look- yet through his desperation he still looked as beautiful as ever. You moan softly as his praise. “Oh, does our little slut like to be praised?” Minho said to your right, you turned to him and bit your lip, your legs instinctively closing as his degradation surged throughout your body. “Fuck and degration too.” Seungmin hums as your eyes trail to him.

The hot touch of a hand on your lower hips snapped you out of the trace that Seungmin had basically pulled you into. You look towards your right, and there Minho is, smirking as his hand squeezes at the curve of your ass. “Hey!” You slapped his hand away, “No touching!”

“You never said what would happen if we did though, kitten.” The stupid pet name had you squeezing your legs together even more, “Aw, such a filthy slut for us.”

“Shit he’s right,” Felix breathed out, “what happens if we do touch you?” Shit, you didn’t think this far ahead- fuck you don’t even remember what the prize of the bet was…or if there even was one. Why are you guys even doing this again? “Fuck,” Chan groans gently, “does this pretty little cunt of yours want to be filled, love?” You feel his rough hands cup your bare cunt, jerking at the sudden touch. “Y/N?” Jeongin’s soft voice cracked as he whined out your name. You hummed in response as you fought the urge to grind against Chan’s large hand. “Can we touch you now? Please.”

“Oh God,” You throw your head back with a moan as Chan teasingly slips a finger inside your glistening pussy, “fuck yes! Please Innie!”

With that Jeongin springs up to his feet and quickly makes his way towards you. At the corner of your eye, you see the other five move from their spot to get closer to you. “Fuck,” you moan, feeling Changbin’s hands run under your tshirt, lightly teasing your pebbled nipples, “why did we do this again?” A small chuckle resonated from Seungmin’s sweet lips, “Because you wanted to win a bet, right pup?”

You bite down on your lower lip, Jisung’s lips attaching themselves to your clit next to where Chan’s fingers are plummeted inside. Felix helps you out of your shirt as Hyunjin and Changbin each take one of your breasts into their mouth. It all happened so quickly and at the same time, you feel your climax nearing faster than ever. And just like that your release is stolen from you as the four boys pull away from your body. You whine out desperately, “I swear to fucking God if y’all do that again I’m leaving and finishing by myself!” You threaten, sitting up onto your knees.

“Okay, okay princess.” Jisung purrs as he tilts your head up by hooking his knuckle under your chin.

You whimper as he nears your face, “This okay?” you gulp and nod quickly and to that he just clicks his tongue, pulling back slightly. “Words babe.”

“Yes.” you sigh breathlessly, Jisung attaches his lips to yours ever so roughly, a pair of soft hands grab at your hips, placing you down onto their lap. Your legs slotted against your chest being held by the man whom you’re laying on, while the said man leaves butterfly kisses along the nape of your neck.

Chan slipped his fingers out of your cunt prompting you to whine but the feeling of something warm and wet poking at your clit causes the whine to turn into a gasp, Jisung takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively clench around the head that’s propped between them.

“So sweet.”

Jeongin muttered against your folds before slotting his tongue alongside it yet again. “Holy fuck Innie!” you throw your head back, lips detaching from Jisung’s, with an erotic moan, your head now resting on the shoulder of the man behind you. At this angle you catch a glimpse at the the man- fucking hell.

He sinks his teeth into your neck, though the action seems so rough he doesn’t bite down to the point where it hurts. “Fuck, keep her making those faces.” Felix bites his lip, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. You whine, shutting your eyes as Jeongin continues to assault your throbbing cunt as Changbin moves into massage your breasts. “Look at you,” Minho purred into your ear as he started grinding his hardened cock against your ass, “being so obedient and submissive for everyone, just like the little slut you are.” You moan out at the overwhelming mixture of sensations; Hyunjin nibbling at your nipple, Jeongin’s tongue running up and down your folds, and Minho breathing dirty words into your ear while peppering your shoulder with kisses and love bites.

The cat eyed boy sneakily brings his hand to your cunt and smacks it slightly, not too hard but enough that it stung a little. “Fuck you,” you groan out as Minho massages your core, his fingers dipping further down towards where Jeongin’s face is buried. “No,” Minho tsked, “I’ll do the fucking.”

“Don’t be too rough on her Min.” Chan spoke, you glance over to him and he had his hand shoved down his pants. “She likes it.” Seungmin said confidently, “Right, whore?” You do nothing but whimper at his words meanwhile your body starts to shake slightly. “Answer with words pup.”

“God, fuck yes! I love it- please don’t stop.” You can feel Jeongin smirk against your heat.

Your eyes wandered to the boy next to Seungmin, his eyes stuck on mine as his pretty face scrunched up, his shorts rustling while his hand too was shoved inside, and his freckled cheeks flushed so very red. “Lix,” you gesture for him to move closer, almost immediately the freckled boy quickly rushed down from his spot on the couch and next to you on the floor. He looks at you with pleading eyes, “take it off.”

You grab at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it over his head awaiting your next instruction. You were about to ask him something but the feeling of a harsh bite on your inner thigh caused you to squeak out instead. Your head whips down to see Hyunjin licking at the skin he just bit. They’re moving so quickly you can barely keep up with who’s doing what.

“Can we fuck you already?” A voice said from your left, your head instinctively turning towards the source. Seungmin stared at you with prying eyes. “Kim Seungmin!” Chan lightly smacked his shoulder, “Let her choose, remember?” The oldest shakes his head at the younger. “Min,” You whimper from the stimulation. “Yeah?” Both Seungmin and Minho responded. “Lee.” Seungmin pouted as Minho leaned in closer, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

Though your senses are so overloaded, you snake your hands down the space between your bodies, shifting your hips up to grab at his hardened cock. Minho’s brows furrow as you stroke his clothed dick. “Desperate are we?” He smirks, “You want all eight of us tonight? Or just a few?” Chan questions, he’s so thoughtful and that makes your heart hammer in your chest. “All.”

”Fuck.” Each boy’s voice sounds throughout the room, they all stare at you with lust-filled eyes.

Your hand that’s still wrapped around Minho’s cock, begins pumping it. Minho hisses at the feeling, precum leaking from the tip. You tease his slit before shifting your hips in his lap. Lifting your hips, you grind down on his cock, your arousal coating his shaft.

“Oh, fucking hell.” Minho throws his head back erratically as his tip pokes at your clit, he could feel as you throbbed against him. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside you already. Unbeknownst to Minho, you gesture with your head for Hyunjin to move closer.

The taller boy obeys, moving into your space, sealing your lips against his. Hyunjin’s hands moved to your hips, gently- yet quickly- pushing you down onto Minho’s cock. Both you and Minho moan out as you clench around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, yeah slut.” Minho grunts before he slams his hips into you roughly, not even allowing you to adjust. “Min, not too rough.” Chan warned as you dug your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulder as he continued kissing you.

“Yeah, she’s still got all of us!” Jeongin whined from Chan’s left. You clench at Jeongin’s words, the thought of you having all eight of them tonight makes you spiral towards your climax. “Not yet kitten. Hold it off.” Minho snarled into your ear, his cock continuously hitting your gspot.

“Hyune.” You whined, reaching down to pump his cock, jerking him towards your pussy that is getting pounded into by Minho. “Shit, you want me too darling?” Hyunjin smirked, his eyes gazing down towards where you and Minho are connected, where you’re pulling him towards.

You hastily nod, nothing but whimpers and moans spilling out from your mouth. Hyunjin shoots Minho a look over your shoulder, the latter smirks at him, taking your thighs and pushing them farther back to give space to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s tip pokes at your entrance before he pushes in. The stretch didn’t hurt too bad, but it was enough for tears to prickle in your eyes. As Hyunjin and Minho fucked into you, tears finally fell, cascading down your cheeks from the mixture pleasure and pain.

“Aw, don’t cry bun.” You hear Changbin coo. The built man moving over to you, kissing the tear stains on your cheeks. “They making you feel that good?” He gives a sly raise of his brow, his bottom lips jutting out. “F-Fuck Binnie.” You moan, you can feel both Minho and Hyunjin twitching inside you.

A harsh slap stings on your ass as Minho rubs at the now red spot. “I’m so close princess, can I fill you up?” Hyunjin grunts against your neck. “Yes, God, please, Hyune.” Your body begins to shake as Hyunjin spills into you, Minho following close after at the feeling of your clenching and Hyunjin’s cum coating his cock.

Jisung pushes Changbin out of his way before helping you up off of Minho and Hyunjin’s sweaty bodies, greedily taking you towards the sofa, sitting down and playing you on his lap. Jisung’s cock slips in with ease after being stretched out by Minho and Hyunjin.

You melt into Jisung touch as his hands guide you to roll your hips. His hands make their way towards your ass, spreading your cheeks apart revealing your swollen cunt to the boys behind you.

“Fuck you’re so warm baby.” Jisung groans into your ear. Suddenly another pair of hands are on you, massaging at your hips before rutting his cock between your ass. “Can I have a turn hun?” You hear Felix hum behind you.

You turn your head and give him a weak smile as a go ahead. With that Felix slips his cock alongside Jisung’s, both boys moaning at the feeling. Having almost orgasmed earlier, you feel it build up quicker than last time. Your thighs began quaking as Jisung bucked his hips and Felix thrusted into you.

Your hands shoot up to Felix’s blonde hair, tugging at it when the two boys hit your gspot directly. Felix released a low whimper, “Darling please, I won’t- last long if you do that.” He stumbled over his words, his freckled cheeks a deep pink hue.

You decide to tease the boy, clenching down on his (and Jisung’s) cock, pulling at his hair. You feel as he twitched inside of you before unexpectedly releasing. The freckled boy’s face scrunched up in pleasure as he leaned his forehead against yours as Jisung thrusted into you a few more times before emptying himself into you as well.

“Holy shit.” Felix shook, biting his lower lip before slowing his thrusts, robbing you from your orgasm again. “Save it for me, yeah love?” You heard Chan chuckle to your right. You turn to look at him, flinching when Felix and Jisung ease out of your clenching cunt.

Jeongin helps you off of the other’s bodies. He holds you up when your legs threaten to give out on you. Holding you by the waist, his pretty brown eyes flicker down to your lips, hesitant to lean in. You chuckle before cupping his cheeks and pulling his lips towards yours.

Jeongin groans into the kiss as he grinds his clothed erection into your hips. He pulls away, an embarrassed flush taking over his cheeks. You chuckle before setting him on the sofa like the other had been previously positioned.

Throwing your legs around his lap, you straddled the flustered boy under you. “This okay Innie?” You asked, even though you’ve already crossed that friendship line with him having already eaten you out, you still wanted to make sure he was okay with this.

“Oh fuck yeah I’m okay.” Jeongin grinned, his hands immediately roaming your breasts, squeezing and massaging at the flesh. You hastily undo the zipper of his jeans before tugging his cock out of the slacks. Jeongin hissed at your touch.

Suddenly a hot sting spread through your ass. You whimpered at the slight pain, turning over to see Seungmin glaring down at you. “Bend.” Jeongin stared up at the elder and you in a daze. You leaned as much as you could onto Jeongin before another slap landed on your ass.

A moan echoing from your mouth. With you moaning into his ear, Jeongin grew impatient, grabbing his cock before pressing inside of you. The mixture of the slaps and Jeongin’s cock filling you up made your back arch.

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, Seungmin rammed his cock inside your sopping cunt. You practically scream from the sudden intrusion, nails digging into Jeongin’s shoulders.

The two youngest boys out of your friends absolutely railed you, both stopping whenever your moans would pitch and you would start squeezing their cocks uncontrollably. “Minnie, Innie- let me please, I’m so close.” You cried, that knot in your stomach so tight that it almost hurt.

“You think you deserve it, after driving us all into this stupid bet, you whore?” Seungmin snarled, grabbing your hair and pulling your head backwards, “Open.” You oblige, parting your lips, lolling your tongue out as you understood what the man was hinting at. Seungmin let a drop of saliva fall from his mouth and into yours before harshly pushing your head back towards Jeongin’s neck.

The two boys continued using your cunt until they were spurting out warm ropes into you. Yet again you were robbed from your orgasm as the two roughly filled up your cunt.

“Fuck, you did so well pup.” Seungmin panted against the nape of your neck, leaving a small kiss there before slipping out of your pussy. When you pulled away from Jeongin’s sweaty body, he stared up at you with a wide grin and a dazed look, he looked absolutely fucked out.

Changbin helps you off the boys before pushing Jeongin off the couch and getting comfortable in that same spot, pulling you onto his lap. “You wanna take a breather?” Chan asked, crouching down to your seated level. “No…just…please, I’m so close.”

Changbin chuckled from behind you, guiding you to straddle him in reverse. You sink onto Changbin’s thick cock, the built man’s hands flying to your tits, holding and squeezing them as they bounce with your movements.

You peer through your eyelashes, raising your brow at Chan, insinuating for him to hurry up and fuck you. The oldest of the eight chuckles before slipping his cock out of his pants. “Gonna fill you up so good, yeah baby?” He says before sliding right inside your stretched out pussy.

“Holy mother of fuck!” You cursed, the stretch of Changbin was already overwhelming- but now adding on Chan’s way above average length…you don’t think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

Changbin thrusted harshly from underneath you, roughly pinching at your nipples. “Fuck bun, your squeezing us so much, might just bust right now.”

You loll your head back into his shoulder, “Bin…fuck- Binnie please.” You beg, your arms moving to tug at his wavy hair.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching inside you as he fastened his speed. Chan just watched as Changbin rammed into your cunt alongside his. The intense feeling of Changbin railing into you from underneath had you reeling, though the sudden circling of your clit made your orgasm finally hit you.

Liquid squirting out of you as you cried out, before Changbin released inside of you, Chan now picking up his pace, edging towards his climax.

“I know love, I’m sorry…just a few more.” Chan cooed as you whimpered from the overstimulation, he continued railing into you, not stopping when Changbin had pulled out of you.

Chan nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the skin there. “Almost there love, gonna fill you up so good, yeah. You’ve been such a good girl for us.” His praise had you crying out, squeezing around his cock. At that Chan finally came, filling you up with his warm release.

Chan slowly eased out of you before gently moving you to lay on the less dirty part of the couch.

“Imma go get the towels.” A voice you’re not even sure who’s said. “I’ll get her some water.” Another stated.

Sometime later, Felix returned with some damp warm towels. As he wiped your lower region, you flinched at the sensitivity. “I’m sorry darling, almost done.”

A sudden hand gently raised your head from the back, supporting you to sit up. “You okay? We didn’t go too rough on you, right?” Seungmin asked as Minho handed you a glass of water. You took the glass with an appreciative smile.

“You guys were fine- oh.”

“Oh?” Hyunjin smiled in confusion. “The time.” You said pointing at the digital clock. 1:03. Exactly fifteen minutes.

“I win.” Some of the boys groaned while some chuckled, a bet is a bet after all.

taglist: @katsukis1wife

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: tease tease tease. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex. overstimulation. fingering. oral. breeding kink. daddy kink. manhandling. power play. degradation/praise. mdni.

notes: in which you read something about chan having a daddy kink on stayville and run with it.

The afternoon was one of those perfect, lazy ones—the kind where time barely mattered, and the world outside your little bubble felt distant. Rain drizzled against the windows, a soft, rhythmic hum, and Chris was warm against you, his body curled into yours on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing gentle, absentminded circles as you both scrolled through your phones, comfortably lost in the quiet.

“Hey,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris glanced over at you, his gaze filled with something soft, something only meant for you. He squeezed your thigh lightly, his thumb lingering for a second longer. “Hey,” he murmured back, voice low and fond.

You don’t even hesitate. “Is it true you like being called ‘daddy’?”

The air shifted.

Chris stiffened slightly, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against your side coming to an abrupt stop. His eyebrows knit together as his phone lowered, and he blinked at you. “Huh?”

You bit your lip, barely holding back a laugh at his reaction. “I mean, I keep seeing things online,” you continued, keeping your tone casual, even though you were fully enjoying this. “Stay seem really convinced that it’s, like… a thing for you.”

Chris just stared at you. Then, in one smooth motion, he locked his phone, placed it on the coffee table, and turned his full attention to you.

“Give me your phone.”

You gasp, clutching it to your chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

“You can’t stop me from knowing things, Christopher.”

He’s fast, snatching for your phone. You let out a yelp, trying to yank it away, but he was faster, snatching it clean from your grip. “What did I say about staying out of Stayville? It’s dangerous there.”

You shrug feigning innocence. “I was just scrolling, and it came up.”

“What exactly came up?” He squints at your screen, scrolling with exaggerated judgment.

You whine, reaching for it, but he holds it high above your head, his other arm locking you against his chest. “Chris! Give it back!”

He ignores you, still scrolling, his expression shifting from mild annoyance to absolute horror. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bit your lip, barely suppressing your laughter as he scrolled.

Chris ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. “Why are they like this?”

“Because you—” you poked his cheek, “—give them material.”

He caught your hand, holding it against his chest. “I do not.”

“You so do.”

Chris huffs, clearly exasperated but also too amused to fully commit to his indignation. “I literally just exist, and they make up the most unhinged things.”

You give him a pointed look. “Chris, baby… be so for real.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I—” He pauses, struggling. “Maybe I… give them some material.”

You grin triumphantly. “There it is.” You shift so you were leaning into him, your chin resting against his shoulder. "So, you're saying it's not true?"

His jaw twitches. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long, and that was all you needed.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes widening in exaggerated delight. “It is true.”

Chris groaned again, dramatically flopping backward against the cushions. "It's not. I hate you."

"You love me," you corrected, poking his side until he squirmed. "And you also love being called—"

His hand clamped over your mouth before you could say it, his palm warm against your lips. "Don't." His eyes were dark, but his voice held that unmistakable lilt of warning.

You blinked up at him innocently, but the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed you. You licked his palm.

Chris yelped, pulling his hand away like he'd been burned. "You animal."

You were cackling now, barely able to breathe through your laughter as he wiped his palm against your hoodie like you’d just infected him with some incurable disease.

"You're disgusting," he grumbled, but his lips were twitching.

"You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"You love it," you repeated, beaming at him. "And you definitely love being called—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Chris tackled you, rolling you beneath him on the couch, his hands pinning your wrists against the cushions. His nose was barely an inch from yours, his breath warm as he spoke. "Finish that sentence, and I swear—"

You blinked up at him, the challenge practically dripping from your smirk. "What? You’ll punish me?"

His eyes narrowed, but the way his lips twitched betrayed him. “Careful.”

“Oh no,” you gasped, feigning terror. “Are you gonna make me behave... Daddy?”

Chris groaned, letting his forehead thud dramatically against yours as a laugh bubbled out of him. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m your favorite,” you corrected, beaming up at him.

He huffed, though the way his gaze softened betrayed his amusement. “Unfortunately.”

______________________________________________________________

It started small.

A passing whisper in his ear when you walked by. A smug little smirk whenever you said his name just a little too sweetly.

An innocent stretch while calling out, "Daddy, can you pass me the remote?" like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Chris played it off the first few times. He’d roll his eyes, let out an exasperated sigh, and mutter, “You’re insufferable,” before going back to whatever he was doing.

But you saw it. The way his jaw would clench, how his fingers would flex like he was restraining himself. The flicker of something darker in his gaze that vanished as quickly as it came.

You weren’t dumb. You knew Chris. You knew that teasing him like this was playing with fire, especially because he was always so soft with you. You had him wrapped around your finger—he kissed the ground you walked on, always so patient, so gentle, even when you pushed him.

But patience had limits. And you were determined to find his.

You started pushing.

By now, you were convinced he was doing everything in his power to ignore it—to ignore you. But you saw through it.

You saw the way his jaw clenched every time you purred Daddy in that syrupy-sweet tone. You noticed how his fingers twitched when you batted your lashes at him, playing the role of the innocent little thing you so clearly weren’t. You caught the way his ears turned red when you leaned in too close, lips grazing his ear as you murmured, Thank you, Daddy—for the smallest things, like opening a jar or holding the door for you.

And yet, still, he hadn’t snapped.

So, you pushed harder.

One night, while sitting next to him at the dorm, you absentmindedly played with the chain around his neck, your fingers tracing the curve of his collarbone. The others were watching a movie.

Chris, ever the affectionate boyfriend, had one arm lazily draped over the couch behind you, his focus mostly on the screen—until you leaned in, lips barely brushing his ear.

"You’re so good to me, Daddy."

His entire body went rigid beside you.

A sharp inhale, a slight clench of his jaw—before, once again, he exhaled through his nose, choosing to ignore you.

You almost pouted.

But when you glanced up, you caught it—the flicker of something dark in his eyes before he blinked it away.

Oh, you were getting to him.

Later that night, as you lounged in bed, he propped himself up on one elbow, voice deceptively light. "You think you’re real cute, don’t you?"

You grinned, stretching languidly against the sheets. "I know I am."

Chris’ fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hip. "You like testing me, huh?"

You hummed, shifting to face him, lips just shy of his. "What, you don’t like it?"

For a moment, you thought he might finally snap—but instead, he exhaled through his nose, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his back. "Goodnight, baby."

Disappointment.

You had expected him to at least call your bluff. Maybe flip you over, put you in your place. But no—he was still Chris, soft and loving, never pushing past what you allowed.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

So, you planned your final move carefully.

______________________________________________________________

Chris was tired. Not from work or the chaos of the boys—no, this exhaustion had a name.

You.

Weeks of teasing. A soft “Daddy” here, a sweetly smug smile there, and Chris held onto his patience with a white-knuckled grip. But you pushed—again and again. And he didn’t snap. Not yet.

He was at the studio with Changbin and Jisung, trying to focus when a knock interrupted. Jisung answered, revealing a delivery guy holding takeout bags.

“Uh... delivery for Daddy?” the guy announced, glancing at the receipt.

Silence.

Jisung and Changbin lost it, cackling while Chris stood frozen—expression dark, jaw clenched. Slowly, he took the bags. “Thanks,” he bit out, the door clicking shut.

Ignoring their laughter, Chris pulled out his phone and typed a message with deadly calm:

Be home by the time I get there. Do not make me come find you.

He pocketed his phone and left, tension coiled tight in his shoulders.

You weren’t home when he arrived. You could practically feel the moment his patience snapped, like a distant thunderclap on the horizon. But you didn’t rush. No, you dragged it out—lingering at a late-night café, scrolling through your phone with a smirk, ordering another drink just because you could. Chris wanted you home? Then home was the last place you’d be.

By the time you finally decided to return, it was late—far later than it should have been. The air outside was thick with the weight of your own defiance, every step toward your front door deliberate, measured.

You knew he was inside.

The apartment was eerily quiet when you pushed the door open, the usual hum of music or the soft murmur of the TV absent. Just silence. Heavy. Waiting.

You barely had time to set your keys down before you felt it—that unmistakable presence.

Chris sat in the dimly lit living room, sprawled on the couch like a king on his throne. One arm draped over the back, the other resting on his knee, fingers tapping a slow, deliberate rhythm. His eyes found you immediately, dark and unreadable. Not a single muscle moved, but the energy around him crackled.

“Baby,” you greeted, with a casual smile. “You waited up.”

Chris didn’t answer right away. He just watched. Studied. The air felt thick, suffocating in the silence.

And then—slowly, deliberately—he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, voice dangerously calm.

“Where were you?”

There it was. That quiet fury, simmering just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, toeing off your shoes. “Out.”

His tongue clicked against his teeth, his gaze unwavering. “Out.” A beat of silence. “You got my message.”

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, refusing to let the weight of his stare shake you. “I did.”

Chris exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing against his knees. Still eerily calm. Still watching. And yet, something about the way he held himself—the way his jaw ticked, the way his shoulders sat so unnaturally still—sent a prickle of unease down your spine.

“You do that on purpose?”

You took a step closer, tilting your head. “What if I did?”

Chris let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. He pushed off the couch, moving toward you with slow, measured steps. The closer he got, the smaller the space between you felt—until he was right there, close enough that his warmth seeped into your skin.

His fingers brushed your chin, tilting it up just enough to meet his gaze fully.

“You think this is funny?”

Your breath hitched. “Maybe a little.”

Chris hummed—a low, unimpressed sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered against your jaw, deceptively gentle, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. You could feel it there—your own heartbeat, hammering wildly beneath his touch, betraying the nonchalance you were so desperately trying to hold onto.

“Is that right?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost thoughtful. “You think it’s funny to ignore me? To push me?”

Oh, you were in trouble.

The kind of trouble that made your stomach twist, that sent heat prickling down your spine, that made your pulse stutter when Chris’s thumb pressed just a little harder against the rapid thrum of your heartbeat.

You knew exactly what you were doing—poking at something primal, something restrained, something that you weren’t sure even Chris had fully let himself acknowledge.

And yet, even as he loomed over you now, eerily calm, his gaze dark and unreadable, you still pushed.

You smirked. “I think it’s fun.”

Chris exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was barely holding something back. His fingers traced along your jaw, slow, deliberate, before trailing lower—down the column of your throat, pressing just lightly enough that your breath caught, that your lips parted in an unspoken challenge.

“Fun,” he echoed, his voice a whisper of something dangerous.

You swallowed, and his eyes flickered down, watching the movement with quiet intensity. His hand lingered for a moment longer before he took a step back, putting space between you that somehow felt heavier than his touch.

Then, he smiled.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t warm. It was something else entirely—something that made your stomach flip, that sent heat curling low in your belly.

“Alright,” Chris murmured, his tone infuriatingly casual. “You wanna play?”

His hand fisted in your hair, dragging your head back as his mouth crushed against yours—no hesitation, no warmth, just teeth and frustration and the weight of every time you’d pushed him past his patience. His tongue shoved past your lips, licking deep, swallowing the soft gasp you barely had time to let out before he was pulling back, teeth catching your bottom lip and tugging, like he wanted to hurt just a little.

Then he let go.

Your scalp tingled from the force of his grip, your lips slick and tingling from his bite, but he didn’t give you a second to process before his hand was on your throat, pushing—not choking, just forcing you back, walking you blind toward the couch until the edge caught the backs of your knees. You wobbled, grabbing his forearm on instinct, but Chris didn’t stop. He kept pushing until you fell onto the cushions, then he was on you, knee pressing between your thighs, caging you in, his palm still firm on your neck.

“You think this is fun, huh?” His voice was quiet, but there was nothing soft about it. “Teasing me for weeks, acting all cute, saying shit you knew would get to me?” His knee pressed harder, not enough friction, just enough pressure to make you squirm. “Go on, baby. Laugh. Thought it was real fucking funny before.”

Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the weight of his body so close but still not where you wanted him. You knew what he was doing. This wasn’t the usual game where he’d pretend to resist, where he’d give in after a little bit of teasing. No, he was making you sit in it now. Making you feel the consequences.

Chris leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice dropping even lower. “You wanted my attention. Now you’ve got it. What the fuck do you wanna do with it?”

You exhaled sharply, fingers flexing against his forearm. “Chris, I—”

His hand moved from your throat to your jaw, forcing your head back. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, but his expression was nothing like the soft, eager-to-please boyfriend you knew.

“Try again.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering beneath his fingers. This was new. With you, he was always patient, always indulgent, always so fucking soft. But this? This wasn’t soft. This was something else entirely.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat when he suddenly leaned in, lips just ghosting over yours.

“You what?” he murmured, his breath warm against your mouth, teasing, taunting. “Not feeling so mouthy anymore?”

Your fingers twitched against his forearm, nails digging in slightly. You knew better than to play dumb now. Knew you had pushed and pushed and pushed—until finally, you weren’t in control anymore.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to test him.

You wet your lips, your voice deliberately sweet. “I just wanted your attention, Daddy.”

Chris inhaled sharply through his nose. His grip shifted, fingers tilting your chin up higher, forcing you to hold his gaze. “Yeah?” he mused, his tone almost mocking. “That what you wanted?”

You nodded, batting your lashes. “Mhm.”

Chris’ jaw ticked, his fingers flexing—before suddenly, he let go.

For a second, you almost thought he was pulling away. That he was going to do what he always did—roll his eyes, kiss your forehead, and let you get away with it.

But then, his hand was at your throat again, pressing you back into the couch, pinning you there without so much as an ounce of effort.

“You want my attention?” His knee wedged between your thighs, spreading them wide, forcing you open. His other hand trailed down, fingertips barely brushing over your inner thigh—so close, but not close enough.

His lips curled as he pressed the barest hint of pressure between your legs, right where you needed him most. You exhaled shakily, hips twitching toward his touch.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “So desperate,” he murmured, almost fondly—before he pulled his hand away entirely.

You whined, arching toward him, but he tsked, pressing you back into the cushions.

“You’ve been running that pretty little mouth for weeks,” he mused, his thumb tracing along your lower lip, pressing in just slightly before dragging down your chin. “So fucking bratty, thinking you could do whatever you wanted and get away with it.” His eyes darkened, his voice dipping even lower. “What made you think I’d let you off easy, sweetheart?”

You shivered, swallowing hard. “I—”

Chris just smiled. “You thought I’d cave?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Nah. Not tonight.”

His fingers trailed lower again, teasing, skimming along the edges of where you wanted him, never quite giving in. You whimpered, shifting against his knee, seeking friction.

Chris noticed.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, mockingly sweet. “What’s wrong?”

You glared at him, lips parted, breath uneven. “Chan—”

He tsked again, his grip tightening on your throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. “Wrong.”

You swallowed, cheeks flushing. “Daddy—”

“There she is,” Chris murmured, lips barely brushing yours.

You thought that was it—that he was finally going to give in. But then, he was shifting, pulling away again, dragging out the anticipation.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he continued, voice slow, deliberate. “You’re gonna sit right here, and you’re gonna take whatever I decide to give you.” His fingers traced along your inner thigh, featherlight, teasing. “And you’re not gonna come until I say.”

Your breath caught. “Chris—”

“Did I say you could speak?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your thighs clenching involuntarily. Chris noticed that too. His smirk deepened.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he mused, dragging his fingers higher, finally pressing them against your clothed heat, rubbing the softest, slowest circles. “You like when I tell you what to do?”

Your pulse thundered beneath his touch, but you forced a pout. “Maybe.”

Chris’s smirk was a slow, dangerous thing. “Maybe?” He pressed harder, just enough to make your hips twitch, to drag a broken whine from your lips. “Still got that attitude, huh?”

You wanted to fire back—something smart, something witty—but his fingers worked lazy, torturous circles, each drag and press igniting sparks of pleasure that made thinking impossible. The smirk didn’t fade as he watched you struggle, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“You wanted my attention,” Chris murmured, dipping his head to press his lips against your jaw—soft, teasing. A mockery of gentleness. “But you keep running your mouth. You think that’s a good idea?”

You whimpered, every nerve alight, but you managed a defiant little smirk. “I think you like it.”

Chris hummed, his mouth brushing your ear. “Oh, I do. I love it when you act out, princess. Just means I get to remind you who’s in charge.”

You opened your mouth to quip back, but his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your thighs with a deliberate slowness that had you trembling. He didn’t even look—eyes locked on yours, dark and taunting—as he shoved them aside, baring you to his gaze.

“Let’s see how long that attitude lasts,” Chris drawled, sinking to his knees.

He hooked your thighs over his shoulders, strong hands splaying possessively across your hips. His breath was hot against your bare skin, lips trailing lazy kisses up your inner thigh. Every inch of contact had your breath quickening, your resolve fraying. You tried to wriggle closer, but his grip tightened, pinning you in place.

“Impatient,” he chided, his tongue tracing a slow, maddening path closer—so close. “Thought you liked games, baby.”

A strangled whimper slipped from your lips, thighs quivering where Chris held you pinned. The wicked, taunting curve of his mouth made your pulse jump—anticipation coiling hot and tight in your stomach.

“You talk a big game, sweetheart,” he murmured, breath feathering over the most sensitive part of you. “But look at you now—already falling apart and I haven’t even touched you properly.”

Your hips twitched, the barest grind against his mouth, but his grip tightened, fingers digging into your thighs just hard enough to sting. A warning.

“Ah, ah,” Chris tutted, squeezing until you stilled. “You’ve had weeks to run your mouth. Now, you’re gonna stay still and be good for me, yeah?”

The teasing lilt of his voice sent heat prickling along your skin, a shiver rippling down your spine. You wanted to argue, but the words caught in your throat as his tongue traced a slow, teasing circle around where you needed him most.

The soft, wet heat of his mouth was a shock, a lightning bolt of sensation that had your head falling back, a choked moan spilling free. Chris hummed against you, the vibration a taunt of its own, lips curling into a smirk that you could feel more than see.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawled, fingers pressing bruises into your skin. “You’re already dripping. This what you wanted? Attention from Daddy?”

“Y-Yes,” you gasped, fingers curling into the couch cushions as he licked another slow, deliberate stripe.

Chris’s tongue flicked over you again—slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you bit by bit. Your hands scrabbled for purchase, nails biting into the cushions as your hips twitched, desperate for more.

But just as you started to grind against his mouth, a sharp smack echoed through the room, pain blossoming between your thighs. You cried out, hips jerking back in shock, but his hands held you firm—pinned and helpless beneath his unyielding grip.

Chris looked up at you with a raised brow, eyes dark and unrelenting. “Did I tell you to move?”

You whimpered, the sting lingering, and tried to catch your breath. “N-No, Daddy—”

Another slap—sharper this time—landed on your swollen, slick folds, sending a shudder through your whole body. Tears pricked your eyes, but the heat pooling in your stomach only grew, arousal mingling with the ache.

“That’s right,” he muttered, tone low and warning. “You’re gonna stay fucking still unless I tell you otherwise. Got it?”

You nodded, lip trembling, but Chris wasn’t satisfied. His hand tightened on your thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make you squirm. “Use your words, princess,” he demanded, voice rough and unforgiving.

“Yes, Daddy,” you managed to choke out, voice barely above a whisper.

He hummed in approval, pressing a brief, almost gentle kiss to your inner thigh before his mouth returned to you—hot and wet, tongue flicking over your swollen clit with deliberate, calculated precision. Your body arched instinctively, desperate for more, but you forced yourself to stay still, the threat of his hand still tingling through your skin.

“That’s better,” he muttered between slow, lazy licks, his breath searing against your oversensitive nerves. “Such a pretty little thing when you’re behaving.”

Your whole body burned under the praise, the contrast between his harsh treatment and his soft words leaving you dizzy. You were barely holding it together, every flick of his tongue making your hips twitch despite your best efforts to obey.

Chris’s tongue never slowed.

Each flick over your clit sent sparks racing through your nerves, making your thighs tremble where he held them apart. You wanted to move—had to move—but his grip was unforgiving, fingers digging into your skin like a silent warning.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured against your skin, breath hot and mocking. “Spent all that time teasing me, and now look at you.”

You whimpered, back arching when his tongue flattened against your clit, pressing hard before dragging down to your entrance. He licked into you, slow and deliberate, groaning like he was the one getting wrecked.

“Taste so fucking good,” Chris muttered, voice muffled by the way he buried himself between your legs. “So wet for me. Bet you’d let me do anything to you right now, huh?”

You nodded frantically, breath coming in sharp gasps. You were already on edge, already burning—weeks of teasing, of pushing him, finally catching up to you in the most devastating way.

Chris pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips slick, chin shining with your arousal. “Use your words, princess.”

“Anything, Daddy,” you gasped. “A-anything–fuck–”

Chris hummed, pleased, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, licking into you with obscene noises, lapping at every drop you gave him. And when his fingers joined—two thick digits pressing inside without warning—you nearly sobbed.

“Oh, baby.” His voice was low, taunting. “Haven’t touched you in a while, have I? You’re so tight.” His fingers curled, pressing just right, and your whole body jolted. “How do you think you’re gonna take my cock?”

You clenched around him, and Chris laughed.

“Yeah? That what you want?” His fingers pumped deeper, stretching you open, teasing that one spot that made your vision blur. “Want Daddy to fill you up? Make you take every drop?”

Your body was too hot, too tight—you couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but nod and whimper. Chris didn’t like that.

He smacked your thigh, sharp enough to sting. “Words.”

“Yes! Yes, Daddy, I—” Your voice caught as he crooked his fingers, fucking them into you with ruthless precision. “Want you to come inside me, please—please—”

Chris groaned, low and dark. “That’s my girl.”

Your orgasm slammed into you before you could even brace for it, pleasure surging through you in dizzying waves. Your thighs trembled, hands fisting the cushions, body locking up as you came with a broken moan.

But he didn’t stop.

Not for a second.

His fingers kept thrusting, his tongue kept flicking, dragging you through it—and right into another.

“Ngnn—Chri–daddy—fuck, I—” Your voice was broken, wrecked, your body barely able to keep up with the relentless pleasure tearing through you.

Chris just smirked. “Oh, baby,” he cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Too much?”

You nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your body twitching and jerking beneath him.

He hummed, fingers fucking into you harder. “Nah,” he murmured, low and smug. “You can take more.”

Your second orgasm hit before you could even process his words. Your entire body locked up, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Chris groaned against you, tongue lapping up every bit of your release like he needed it, his fingers fucking you through the brutal aftershocks.

Still, he didn’t stop.

Your body thrashed, your hands pushing weakly at his shoulders, but Chris was stronger, more determined, his grip unrelenting.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your soaked folds, voice dark and filled with something dangerous. His fingers slowed, but only slightly, pressing deep, grinding against that sweet spot inside you. His tongue flicked over your oversensitive clit, teasing, taunting.

“You wanted my attention,” he mused, watching the way your body twitched beneath him, the way your thighs trembled, barely able to stay open. “Now you’ve got it.”

You sobbed, your whole body shuddering, overstimulation tearing through you like fire. “Daddy—please—”

Chris groaned, his cock straining painfully against his sweatpants. “Shit, baby,” he muttered, voice strained. “You crying?” His fingers traced over the wet tracks down your cheeks, eyes darkening. “That good, huh?”

You could barely think, barely breathe—and Chris looked like he was barely holding himself together.

It hit you like a thunderclap—shattering, consuming, a pleasure so intense it almost hurt. Chris groaned, lapping up every drop, working you through it even as you trembled beneath him.

Only then did he pull away, lips slick and curved into something dark and satisfied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gaze locked on your wrecked form—your twitching thighs, your heaving chest, the way your body still shook from the aftershocks.

“Look at you,” he mused, dragging his hands up your legs. “So fucking messy already. And we’re just getting started.”

You barely had a second to breathe before he was tugging his shirt over his head, muscles flexing in the dim light. He undid his belt slowly, deliberately, watching the way your eyes followed the movement with rapt attention.

Chris chuckled. “That desperate for my cock, huh?”

You whimpered, nodding, your thighs still trembling.

Chris reached out, his hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression something raw and hungry.

“You wanted Daddy’s attention?” he murmured, leaning in, lips brushing yours but not quite touching. “Now you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

Your breath hitched. “Please.”

Chris groaned, his forehead dropping against yours for a beat. Then, his fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you as deep as I want.” His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Gonna let me fill you up—fuck my come so deep you’ll still be dripping with it in the morning.”

Your whole body shuddered.

You nodded frantically, every nerve in your body on fire. “Yes, Daddy, please—”

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, fisting your hair as he dragged your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, blown wide with lust, his jaw clenched tight.

Chris smirked, sensing your reaction. He reached between you, stroking himself slow, teasing. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He tapped his cock against your swollen clit, making you jolt. “Gonna take me like a good little breeding toy?”

You nearly whimpered. “Yes—yes, Daddy—”

Chris didn’t give you a chance to brace. He pushed inside in one long, slow thrust, stretching you open around his cock.

Your back arched. The stretch was unbearable, too much, even with all the prep, but Chris just groaned, pressing deeper, inch by inch, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a hand to your lower belly. “Feel that? Feel how deep Daddy is?”

You did. He was there, pressing into something devastating, making your walls flutter around him.

Chris cursed, his hand squeezing your waist before he snapped his hips forward.

You cried out.

Chris groaned, watching the way you took him, how your body clenched and trembled. “Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with something dangerously close to affection. “So fucking good for me, baby.”

His thrusts picked up—hard, relentless, brutal. Your body rocked beneath him, every drag of his cock sending another sharp spike of pleasure through your nerves.

Chris’s grip tightened, his breath ragged. “You’re gonna take every drop, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so full, gonna make sure it sticks.”

A wrecked sob left your lips, your hips rolling back instinctively, desperate. “Want it—please, Daddy, I—”

Chris groaned, slamming his cock inside in one deep, brutal thrust.

Your mouth fell open, your fingers digging into the sheets, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Chris didn’t stop. He set a relentless pace, fucking into you deep, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you’d feel it tomorrow.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching the way your body took him, watching how your slick coated his cock every time he pulled out. “You were made for this, you know that?” His fingers slid to your stomach, pressing down, making you feel every inch of him inside you. “Made to take my cock—made to be bred.”

You clenched around him, and Chris groaned, his thrusts turning rougher, more desperate. His fingers slid lower, rubbing your swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“You’d look so fucking pretty, baby,” he murmured, his pace never faltering. “So round, so full of me.” He pushed in deeper, making sure you felt every inch, making sure you knew exactly what he wanted. “Gonna keep you like this, keep you stuffed with my come, fuck you full every night until you’re dripping—”

The words sent you spiraling. Your whole body locked up, pleasure crashing into you so fast, so intense, you could barely breathe. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock, your release spilling down your thighs, making a mess between you.

Chris groaned, shoving himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there, letting you ride out the aftershocks. His fingers dug into your hips, his cock throbbing inside you, so fucking close, so desperate.

And then he was flipping you over again, manhandling you like you weighed nothing, pinning you beneath him.

“You’re not done yet, baby,” he murmured, gripping his cock, rubbing the tip through your soaked folds, smearing your release everywhere. “I’m not done.”

You barely had a second to brace yourself before he was pushing back inside, slow and deep, stretching you all over again. You mewled, pleasure so overwhelming it bordered on too much—but Chris just cooed, brushing your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your jaw.

“You can take it, princess,” he whispered, rolling his hips, grinding so deep it made you see stars. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Gonna fuck my come so deep it stays inside you?”

You whined, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “Please—”

Chris groaned, something wrecked and raw, his thrusts turning messy, erratic. “Yeah? Want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to breed this pretty little pussy?”

Your entire body clenched, and Chris cursed, his cock pulsing inside you, right on the edge.

“Fuck—” His forehead dropped to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna make you mine.”

His hips snapped forward, his grip tightening—and then he was gone, his whole body tensing as he came with a wrecked moan, spilling inside you, so deep, so much. His cock throbbed, thick ropes of come filling you, making you feel impossibly full.

For a moment, all you could do was exist in it—the heat, the weight of him, the unbearable fullness that made you feel stretched, stuffed, ruined. Chris groaned low, his body twitching against yours as he gave you everything, pushing himself as deep as he could go, holding himself there like he could carve himself into you, like he could make it stay.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, voice thick and wrecked, forehead pressing against yours. His breath fanned across your lips, his nose brushing against yours as he swallowed hard. “Took me so fucking well. So perfect.”

You barely had the strength to answer, your body too wrung out, too wrecked from the relentless waves of pleasure. Your walls clenched weakly around him, still pulsing, still trembling, and Chris groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Then, slowly—reluctantly—he pulled out, hissing at the way your walls fluttered around him, still desperate to keep him inside. A wrecked sound left him when he saw the mess between your legs, his come already spilling out of you, sliding down the curve of your ass, pooling onto the sheets.

His jaw tightened. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding them open as he watched the way you leaked, completely spent, completely his.

“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp curls. “Look at that.”

You barely had the strength to move, your thighs still shaking, your mind hazy, floating somewhere between exhaustion and bliss. Chris kissed your temple, whispering something you couldn’t quite make out, something sweet and soothing as he gently eased you onto your side, gathering you up into his arms. His hands rubbed up and down your back, slow, tender, the complete opposite of how he’d just been fucking you.

“Deep breaths, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing over your sweaty forehead. “There you go. You with me?”

You made a small noise, barely more than a whimper, pressing your face into his chest. Chris chuckled, though it was quiet, full of warmth.

“Too fucked out to talk?” he teased, his fingers slipping into your hair, massaging at your scalp. “My poor baby.”

You whined, and he cooed, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, every bit of skin he could reach. “S’too much,” you mumbled, voice slurred, wrecked.

Chris grinned against your cheek, his hand smoothing down your back. “You love it,” he whispered, nuzzling against you. “Love being full of me, don’t you?”

You whimpered, your body shivering despite the warmth of his embrace. Chris hummed, something dark and pleased curling in his chest. His fingers trailed down, over your stomach, rubbing softly, soothingly. He groaned, knowing his come was still inside you, knowing how full you must feel.

“Good,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. “So good for me, princess.”

"Let me clean you up," he murmured after a moment, shifting like he was about to move.

But as soon as he tried to pull away, you whimpered, clutching at him weakly. Chris immediately stopped, his expression softening. "Oh, baby," he crooned, kissing the bridge of your nose. "You want Daddy to hold you, huh?"

You nodded, too exhausted for words.

His arms tightened around you, pressing you fully against him. "Okay, sweetheart," he whispered, tucking the blanket over both of you. "M'not going anywhere."

He kissed your temple, his fingers still trailing up and down your skin, featherlight, absentminded.

“So pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with something soft, something impossibly tender. “My pretty girl.”

You sighed, barely conscious, barely awake, and Chris chuckled, shifting just enough to reach for the wet wipes on the nightstand. He moved carefully, gently, wiping away the mess between your thighs, murmuring quiet reassurances against your skin.

But when he pulled back, his gaze landed on your entrance again—still puffy, still stretched from him, still leaking his come despite how much he’d given you.

Chris groaned, his jaw clenching, something dark flickering behind his softened gaze.

“Fuck,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He was trying—really trying—to let it go. To let you rest.

But then his fingers were there, brushing over your swollen folds, pushing in just enough to spread the mess, to watch the way your body twitched in response. You whimpered, barely coherent, shifting weakly beneath him.

Chris exhaled sharply.

“Gotta make sure it stays, baby,” he murmured, almost apologetic, pressing two fingers inside, slow, deep, watching the way your walls fluttered around them, sucking them in, so perfectly pliant.

You whimpered, half-asleep, but didn’t stop him.

Chris swallowed hard, his cock twitching all over again.

Maybe he’d have to make sure again in the morning.

[boyfiechan]

21 Questions...

...or the one where your hot one-night stand gets trapped inside with you during a storm.

Notes: Romantic comedy brainrot meets “what if your one-night stand accidentally had boyfriend energy” vibes but dirty, I guess? Pretty much porn that pretends to have a plot.

Content Warnings: AFAB reader, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, face riding, dry humping, dirty talk, question-based escalation, creampie.

[8.1k words]

The rain is already loud when you wake up, but it’s the thunder that makes you sit up too fast—your body protesting with a dull ache and a rush of confusion and for a moment, you forget where you are, blinking against the soft light that filters through pale curtains stirred by wind. Then you remember the man lying next to you. The one with the tousled brown hair and the silver chain still clinging to his throat, half-buried beneath the white sheet he’d stolen most of in the night. Chris. His name floats up through the haze of sleep and lingering heat and half-faded memory, the syllables settling heavy in your chest and you’d meant for last night to be a clean break, something fleeting, something fun—but now it’s morning and the world outside is a mess of lightning and rising water and all exits, apparently, are blocked.

You shift carefully, pulling the sheet with you like it might shield you from the awkwardness of waking up next to someone you barely know, but Chris doesn’t look awkward at all. He looks like he belongs there, face still soft with sleep, lips parted just slightly like he’s caught in a dream he doesn’t want to leave, his hair is a disaster and his arm is slung over your pillow like he’d meant to hold you and missed. And maybe you’re still drunk on the way he’d touched you last night—like he already knew how you wanted to be handled, like he’d been reading your mind with every slow drag of his mouth over your skin, but now the tension is different, the air is heavy with the storm and something else you can’t quite name. Something not-so-temporary.

Chris groans softly when the thunder cracks again, brow creasing as he stretches, and you get a front row seat to the slow reveal of muscle and skin and that faint trail of ink on his ribs. He blinks up at you, eyes half-lidded and pretty brown in the gray light. What time is it? he asks, rough and warm and entirely too familiar for someone you just met. You shrug, reaching for your phone with fingers that are still trembling a little, not from fear, just the residual adrenaline of being alone in a house with a man who kissed you like he could rewrite your whole damn story if you let him. Does it matter? you murmur, holding up the screen. Storm’s not letting up. Roads are flooded. There’s a beat of silence, then Chris hums like it’s not the worst news he’s ever heard. Guess I’m staying for breakfast.

And it should be awkward, it should be that fumbling, clothes-on-backwards, this was fun kind of goodbye you’d practiced in your head but instead, Chris rolls out of bed like it’s his own room, scratching the back of his neck and scanning the floor for his shirt with a sleepy smirk. You got anything edible? Or are we on a strictly coffee-and-regret diet this morning? he asks, and you laugh, the sound surprising even you. There’s eggs. Maybe toast if the bread survived the humidity. You’re already pulling on one of your old t-shirts—something oversized and faded and absolutely not cute, but Chris gives you this once-over that makes you feel like you’re in silk as he follows you into the kitchen barefoot, steps quiet, and there’s still a weight to him that makes the room feel fuller somehow, like his presence bends the space around him just a little.

You move around each other clumsily at first, two strangers pretending you haven’t already seen each other naked, but it settles quickly into something easy, comfortable. You hand him a pan without thinking, and he flips it in one hand like he’s done this a hundred times. So what do you do, he asks, cracking eggs like a professional, when you’re not picking up mysterious men at bars and rescuing them from natural disasters? You shoot him a look over your shoulder, but your smile betrays you. I’m an illustrator, you admit. Freelance. Mostly book covers and concept stuff. He raises a brow, looking impressed. That explains the art on your walls. I thought you were just trying to seem deep. You bump your hip into his and he laughs—really laughs, head thrown back for a second, the sound warm enough to cut through the storm still howling outside.

Breakfast takes longer than it should, between the burnt toast and the failed attempt at pancakes and the way Chris keeps trying to juggle eggs when he thinks you’re not looking, the kitchen becomes a little world of its own—bright with laughter and low teasing and the kind of unspoken intimacy that feels like it’s been there longer than a single night. He sits at the table while you pour the coffee, fingers drumming on the wood like he can’t quite sit still. You know, he says, eyeing you over the rim of his mug, I was supposed to fly out today. Back to Seoul. Meetings, rehearsals. All that glamorous idol life crap. You glance out the window, as rain streaks down the glass in frantic patterns, wind battering the trees sideways. Storm says no, you offer, and he grins, like that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

You end up on the couch, legs tangled under a shared blanket, the empty plates abandoned somewhere behind you. The power flickers once, twice, and then holds and at some point, Chris had ducked into the other room to make a quiet call—checking on someone, just to make sure they were safe in the storm. It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it still made something in your chest ache a little and now, as he shifts beside you, arm grazing yours, it’s quieter—the kind of quiet that feels like waiting, like choosing. He doesn’t push, doesn’t lean in, but when he looks at you it’s soft and curious and a little cautious, like he’s wondering what this could be if it wasn’t just a one-night stand and a thunderstorm, and you don’t know either. But you like the way he watches the lightning like it’s a show, the way he turns toward you with that slow smile that’s more promise than performance. You don’t know if the roads will be clear tomorrow, yu don’t know if this will last past the rain but for now, there’s warmth, and coffee, and a very content Chris beside you like he’s meant to stay.

He eats like someone who hasn’t had a real meal in days, half-sleepy and quietly appreciative, the kind of silence that says more than any compliment could. Every so often he hums, low and pleased, like even the mediocre toast is some kind of hidden delicacy. I think... he mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, this might be the best breakfast I’ve had all year. You glance at him, one brow raised. That’s a low bar. He shrugs, grinning around his coffee mug. Yeah, well, my standards are shot. I live off protein bars and takeout most days. He says it casually, like it’s a joke, but something in his eyes dims around the edges and you file that away somewhere quiet in your chest.

Then he sniffs at the mug and makes a face, setting it down with a quiet sigh. Full disclosure? I don’t even like coffee. You blink at him, mid-bite. Then why drink it? He shrugs, sheepish and a little guilty, like a kid caught faking his homework. Felt like the kind of morning where I should be holding something warm. Thought maybe it’d make me look normal. He hesitates, then adds, Tea’s not any better, by the way. Tastes like regret. You laugh and offer, There’s juice in the fridge, but he just shoots you a slow smile and leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving yours. Think I’ve had enough sweet stuff for one morning, and the line hangs there between you, light but deliberate, and when you arch a brow, he doesn’t take it back, just lifts his mug again like he didn’t say anything at all, even though you’re both still smiling into the silence.

The wind picks up again, another sharp gust rattling the windows, and the lights flicker like they’re considering betraying you. You look over your shoulder, half-expecting a blackout, but they steady as Chris catches your gaze, leaning forward on his elbows, bare forearms braced against the table. Scared? he teases, but it’s soft, more curious than mocking. Of the storm? you ask, tipping your head. Not really. I like it. Makes everything feel... slower. Like the world’s taking a breath. Chris watches you for a long moment, something thoughtful in the way his eyes trace over your face like he’s committing it to memory. That’s a nice way to put it, he murmurs. I think I forget how to slow down.

You end up back on the couch with two mugs of reheated coffee and a blanket that still smells faintly like clean laundry and the detergent your mom insists on mailing you in bulk as he lets you pick the movie, something old and a little ridiculous, more comfort than content, and by the time the opening credits roll, he’s already slid a little closer, his thigh pressed lightly against yours beneath the blanket. I haven’t watched a movie on an actual home couch in months, he admits, almost sheepish. Hotel beds don’t count. Too sterile, always feels like I’m trespassing. You look at him, really look, and for all the easy smiles and casual confidence, there’s something in the way he curls slightly inward, like he’s still waiting to be asked to leave.

So… what’s it like? you ask, tilting your head against the back cushion. Being you. Idol life. Cameras. Fans. Endless protein bars. He laughs, but it’s quieter now. It’s loud, he says after a pause. Even when it’s quiet. There’s always something. A performance, a deadline, someone waiting for you to screw up so they can clip it and post it out of context. His voice is calm, but you feel the weight of it, heavy and real between you. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. Music saved me, still does. But sometimes it feels like I forget who I am when the lights go off.

You nudge his knee with yours. And who are you right now? He glances at you, then away, like he’s not used to being seen like this—barefoot on someone else’s couch, coffee he doesn't even pretent to drink anymore in hand, weathered by rain and time and the strange intimacy of survival. Right now? he echoes, a little surprised. I’m… just Chris. I think. His mouth twitches, like he’s almost amused by the sound of his own name out loud in that context. Not Bang Chan, not leader, not hyung. Just… a guy who ate eggs in someone’s kitchen. You nod like that’s enough. Like it means more than it should. Well, you say, lifting your mug in a mock toast, cheers to Just Chris.

He bumps his mug against yours, eyes warm with something that looks a lot like gratitude as the movie plays on in the background, half-forgotten, and you both settle into the kind of silence that isn’t awkward—it’s tentative, sure, but there’s an unspoken agreement not to break the spell just yet. His arm ends up behind you on the backrest, not quite touching, but close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the quiet hum of presence that anchors you in place and when your shoulders brush, neither of you pulls away.

You know, he says eventually, eyes still on the screen, I didn’t expect to like you this much. You blink, caught off guard by the blunt honesty. I mean, he adds quickly, the tips of his ears slighly pink, not that I thought I wouldn’t like you. But last night… it wasn’t supposed to turn into this. He gestures vaguely, encompassing the coffee, the couch, the storm still raging outside like a protective barrier between this moment and the rest of the world. It was just supposed to be one night. A good distraction. You swallow, unsure whether to laugh or let the weight of it settle. Yeah, you say. Me too.

But the way he’s looking at you now, like you’re not just a chapter break but maybe a plot twist—it makes something shift in your chest. Something dangerous and soft and utterly unplanned. So what happens, you ask quietly, if the storm doesn’t let up? He smirks, eyes flicking toward the window before turning back to you. Guess we'll keep distracting each other, he says, and his hand finally brushes yours beneath the blanket, fingers curling slightly like a question, and you don’t hesitate when you answer. You let him.

The movie drifts on in the background—some half-forgotten rom-com playing at half volume, all overly dramatic meet-cutes and orchestral swells that feel far too on-the-nose given the weight in the air, and the storm hasn’t eased. If anything, the wind howls louder now, rattling through the eaves of the house like it’s trying to crawl inside, but you’re warm, not just because of the blanket or the coffee or the body beside you—but because something is building. Slowly, unspoken, the kind of tension that hums under the skin like an electrical current, soft but insistent, curling into the spaces between breath and glance and word.

Chris shifts beside you, his arm still draped casually along the back of the couch, but you can feel the subtle change in his posture, how he’s turned slightly more toward you, how his knee now presses firmly into yours instead of just brushing. His fingers are close enough to yours that you can feel the heat from them, the faint tremble of restraint in the way he hasn’t closed that last inch of distance as you risk a glance, and he’s already watching you—not smiling, not teasing, just looking, slow and steady, like he’s memorizing again. Like he’s debating something he already knows the answer to.

You’re kind of hard to read, you know that? you murmur, letting your voice drop just a little, the edge of a smile curling at your lips. His brow lifts, intrigued. Yeah? Most people say I’m too easy to read. His voice is quieter now too, dipping into something husky, a little rough. Too open. You tilt your head, feigning thought. No… you give people just enough to make them think they’ve got you figured out. You feel bold now, watching his expression shift—curious, then interested, then something more primal flickering just under the surface. But there’s always something you’re holding back.

He leans in a fraction, close enough that you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek, and when he speaks again it’s low and deliberate. What do you think I’m holding back? And you want to be coy, want to toss back some flirty quip and pretend like your heart isn’t beating faster with every syllable that falls from his mouth—but the air between you is too heavy now, charged with something that feels inevitable as you shift to face him more fully, knees drawn up beneath the blanket, and he mirrors you, his hand finally brushing yours beneath the fabric—just a soft drag of knuckles, but it’s enough to send a little shock up your spine.

I think you want to touch me again, you whisper, the words slipping out before you can think better of them. But you’re trying to be good. Chris huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it—just tension, tightly wound and dangerously close to snapping. Yeah, he says, voice rougher now, throat working as he swallows. I’ve been trying real hard not to. And that admission, that little crack in his carefully controlled exterior, does something to you. You shift closer, just slightly, enough that your knees press between his, enough that the blanket slips a little off your shoulder and his eyes follow the movement like he’s been starving.

But you’re not that good, are you? you tease, soft and breathy, like you’re testing the line just to see if he’ll cross it. And then his hand is on your thigh beneath the blanket—slow and deliberate, fingers curling against bare skin where your oversized t-shirt rides up, he doesn’t rush, just drags his palm upward with agonizing patience, his eyes never leaving yours. Not even close, he says, and it’s more confession than warning. You shift into his touch, lips parting on a quiet breath, and the way he looks at you now it’s like the storm has moved inside the room, all pressure and heat and the dangerous thrill of surrender.

Still, he waits. That last sliver of distance remains, his lips close but not touching, his fingers warm but not daring yet, you can see it in his eyes—the way he’s giving you the choice, the way he’s already halfway gone if you want to meet him there and something about that restraint, that aching pause, makes your skin burn. Come here, you whisper, and that’s all it takes.

He kisses you like he’s been holding it back all morning, all night, maybe longer, like he’s afraid if he doesn’t do it now, he might never get to again, his hand slides up further, anchoring at your waist, pulling you into his lap with a fluid kind of urgency that still manages to feel careful. His lips are warm, a little chapped, but he moves like he knows exactly what you need, tongue teasing at the seam of your mouth until you let him in, until the taste of him floods your senses and you forget everything else. Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer, and he groans softly against your mouth, a sound that vibrates through your whole body.

The blanket falls away, and the storm outside rages louder but inside, the world narrows to the press of his body against yours, the slow grind of hips, the heat rising fast and thick between you like it’s trying to suffocate the space where words used to live. You don’t know where this is going, don’t know what happens after the rain. But you know how he kisses, you know the way his hand slides up the back of your shirt with reverence and hunger, how he breathes your name like a promise he hasn’t figured out how to keep yet. And right now, that’s enough.

His mouth breaks from yours with a reluctant drag, breath heavy against your cheek as his lips skim the edge of your jaw. The storm batters the world outside, wind clawing at the glass, but here, on this couch, wrapped in each other and the remnants of a morning that wasn't supposed to last, everything feels slow, thick with a new kind of tension. His hand has slipped beneath your shirt now, not urgent, but reverent, fingers tracing up your spine in slow, deliberate lines that make you shiver, thumb brushing the underside of your breast, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch, but he stops there, teasing, waiting.

You know… he murmurs against your neck, punctuating the words with a lazy kiss just below your ear, ...we barely know anything about each other. You huff a breath that could almost be a laugh, tipping your head back to give him more access. Funny time to bring that up. His teeth graze your throat, the gentlest bite, and he smirks when you gasp. Just trying to be a gentleman, he says, all faux innocence while his other hand slides up the inside of your thigh, thumb stroking slow circles where your skin is most sensitive. Maybe we should get to know each other first. You know, before we really do this.

You glance down at him, raising a brow even as your hips shift against his lap, finding the heat of him through thin layers of cotton. What, you want to play 20 Questions while you’ve got your hand up my shirt? His eyes glitter with mischief. Twenty-one. Gotta keep it spicy. You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips as you settle more fully against him, legs straddling his hips now, thighs bracketing his as the blanket slips off entirely. Fine, you say, voice a little breathless as his hands find their way to your waist, thumbs dragging slow along your ribs. But I go first. He leans back slightly, arms resting along the couch, a picture of casual sin. Hit me.

What’s your biggest red flag? you ask, grinning as you slowly grind down just enough to watch his expression falter and Chris groans, head tipping back briefly before he looks at you from beneath heavy lashes. You’re evil. You just shrug, hips rocking against him, slow and tempting. Answer the question.

He exhales a laugh that curls low in his chest, fingers tightening at your waist. Okay… red flag? His tongue flicks across his bottom lip as he thinks, and your eyes follow the motion helplessly. I work too much. Like… too much. I disappear into it sometimes. Not great for relationships. There’s honesty in it, even as he slides one hand back under your shirt, thumb grazing the curve of your breast again, still not touching you fully, just circling around it like he’s trying to drive you crazy. Your turn. You shift, barely resisting the urge to lean into his hand. Hmm… what’s your question?

Chris hums, considering. Biggest turn-on.

You tilt your head, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him twitch before you answer, Confidence. Teasing. Someone who can make me laugh and lose my mind. You roll your hips again, slow and purposeful, and he curses under his breath. Your turn, he growls, hands sliding lower now, gripping your ass as he pulls you tighter against him. Better make it a good one.

What do you think I taste like? you whisper it near his ear, just to watch him shudder. His hands still on your body, eyes snapping to yours, suddenly darker as he swallows hard, fingers digging in just a bit. You want the honest answer? he murmurs, voice low and dangerous. Obviously.

Chris leans in, lips brushing yours without kissing, like he’s tasting the air between you. Like trouble. Like something I shouldn’t get addicted to but already am. His hand drags back up your thigh, higher now, brushing between your legs over your underwear, just enough pressure to make you gasp, but still maddeningly light. Like heaven with a little hell in it.

You clench your hands in the fabric of his shirt, breath catching as he rocks up against you, heat meeting heat through frustrating layers. Fuck, you whisper, hips stuttering. That’s not fair. He smirks again. I said I was bad at being good. You dip your head to his neck, biting lightly at the skin just below his jaw as you murmur, Then stop pretending and show me just how bad you can be. But Chris just chuckles, fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear before he stops again, teasing, waiting, torturing. Only if you answer the next one.

You groan. You’re the worst. He grins. Next question. What are you most afraid of right now?

And it’s unfair, how he can drop that kind of weight right when his fingers are slipping beneath your panties, how he can make you feel completely exposed even before he touches you properly as you blink, breathless, caught in the twist of sensation and honesty. Getting too close, you admit quietly. Wanting more than I should. He stills, his hand resting gently between your thighs now, no pressure, just presence as his gaze softens, searching your face like he’s looking for something hidden beneath all your teasing. Me too, he says. And then—finally, finally—his fingers move with purpose, and you stop thinking altogether.

His fingers move with an ease that makes you curse your own memory, like your body already remembers him, already trusts the rhythm, the pressure, the subtle curl of his touch. He’s slow with it, maddeningly so, dragging the pads of his fingers through your slick just to feel how wet you are before he even really does anything. Jesus, he murmurs, almost to himself, eyes dropping to where you’re straddled in his lap, shirt rumpled, underwear pushed aside, heat pressed tight to the bulge in his sweatpants. And you’re telling me we’re just getting to know each other? You roll your hips down against his hand and smirk. Exactly. I’m an open book, remember? But your voice catches at the end when one of his fingers slides inside you, slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on yours as you clench around him with a broken little sound you wish you could play off as cooler than it is. Chris just grins, lazy and pleased, like he’s won something. Sure you are, sweetheart.

And then he fucking pauses again.

Just holds there, buried in you up to the knuckle like he’s content to keep you right on the edge of madness as you glare at him, lips parted, already shifting your hips for friction, but his free hand comes up to steady you at the waist. Nuh-uh, he warns, teasing. You’re the one who agreed to twenty-one questions. You’re not getting out of it just because your legs are shaking. You blink at him, somewhere between aroused and outraged. Are you seriously going to edge me over a quiz game?

Chris has the audacity to laugh, pressing another finger inside you with a slow, cruel twist that makes you forget what planet you’re on for a second. That’s question twenty-two, he says, voice all wicked sweetness. But I’ll allow it. You swear under your breath, grinding down again because two can play at this game. Fine, you bite out. Truth or dare. He raises a brow, interested. We’re switching formats?

Answer it. Chris smirks, lips dragging over your jaw as he pumps his fingers in a slow rhythm that’s almost enough, but not quite. Truth. You narrow your eyes at him. Who’s your embarrassing celebrity crush?

He laughs, really laughs, breathless and boyish and warm in a way that makes your chest ache through the haze of want. Jesus, okay, he says, eyes scrunched, still slowly fucking you with the kind of patience that feels like punishment. This is going to haunt me, but… it’s the girl from Scooby-Doo. The live-action one. Velma. You blink at him. You mean Linda Cardellini? He groans. Yes. The sweater, the glasses, the sass—don’t judge me. You’re laughing too hard to speak for a second, which becomes very inconvenient when his thumb brushes against your clit in a lazy circle that makes your laugh crack into a moan. Okay, you breathe. That’s fair. Honestly? Valid.

He leans in like he’s about to kiss you, but instead he whispers, Your turn, and curls his fingers just right, making your hips jolt forward against his palm. Would you rather, he says, clearly enjoying your ruined expression, have sex in a public place and get caught, or accidentally send your mom a sext? You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a wheeze. Oh my God, what kind of demon are you? He just grins, smug. Answer carefully. You’re half-laughing, half-dying as you try to think through the haze of building pressure between your legs, his thumb not letting up for a second. Okay, okay, public sex.

Getting caught. Bold, he says, watching your face tighten when his fingers thrust a little faster. That says something about you. You gasp, breath hitching hard in your throat as you press your hips forward again, unable to stop yourself. Shut up, you gasp, helpless. You knew I wouldn’t say mom sext. You set me up.

Guilty, he murmurs, kissing along your neck now, open-mouthed and warm. Next question. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever masturbated to? You freeze against him, eyes going wide. Oh my God.

C’mon, he coaxes, mouth curved into a devilish smile. I told you about Velma. Don’t leave me hanging. You hide your face in his shoulder, but he doesn’t let up with his fingers, still moving inside you, still making you gasp even through your mortification. Fine, you groan. There was this audio clip, some guy reading from a tax fraud legal deposition with a deep voice and—don’t look at me like that. It was weirdly hot, okay?

Chris actually chokes laughing, full-body shaking, but his hand never stops, and now it’s infuriatingly good, rhythmic and deep and filthy enough that you start to lose the ability to laugh along. Oh my God, he wheezes, still grinning. That’s incredible. That’s like, top-tier trivia material. He leans in again, brushing his nose against yours, watching you with heat and fondness in equal measure. You’re insane. I think I’m obsessed with you.

You open your mouth to answer, but your words melt into a strangled moan when he presses just right and your body clenches down around him, thighs trembling on either side of his hips as he watches you unravel with greedy eyes, his mouth hovering just over yours, breath mixing with yours as your orgasm shudders through you, sharp and wet and aching. Fuck, you whisper. You're the insane one.

You’re welcome, he whispers back, then kisses you like a man who plans on earning another twenty-one answers. Your breath is still shaky, ribs rising too fast under your shirt, your thighs quivering where they’re slung over his lap, and he hasn’t even pulled his hand away yet. His fingers are still inside you, slow and wet and fucking obscene, curling lazily like he’s not done teasing your body just yet, like he wants to feel every aftershock and memorize the way your walls flutter around him, greedy and overstimulated. And the worst part if you don’t want him to stop, not even a little.

Chris watches you with that smug curve to his mouth, but there’s something darker in his eyes now, hotter, hungrier, like the teasing has started to backfire on him too. You’re so easy to mess with, he murmurs, like it’s a compliment, like he’s impressed, his free hand comes up to brush the damp hair from your face, thumb stroking your cheek with a gentleness that doesn’t match the filth of his other hand. And you still owe me another question.

You laugh, breathless, hoarse, but defiant. You’re still playing the game?

Chris grins, slow and wicked. Don’t act like you’re not into it. Come on, next one. Or I stop. His fingers shift inside you, one last teasing thrust before he slides out completely, leaving you empty and aching. You glare at him, hips twitching forward on instinct. Okay, okay. You pause, breath catching as you readjust your weight in his lap, only now realizing how hard he is beneath you, thick and straining against his sweats, twitching under the press of your soaked panties.

Your brain short-circuits a little, but you recover fast. If you could only use your mouth or your hands during sex, never both again, which would you pick? Chris whistles low, eyes flicking down to your lips like he’s imagining either option in vivid, detailed color. Cruel one, he mutters, shifting beneath you just to feel more of your heat. But I’m gonna say mouth. There’s something about making a mess of someone with just my tongue. Something about control, seems like. His hands tighten at your hips as he leans up, lips grazing yours without committing to the kiss. And I think you like being teased too much for me to give that up.

You open your mouth to argue, or moan, but he silences you with a single, filthy swipe of his thumb over your clit, barely there, just enough to remind you who’s in charge of your pulse. You grip his shoulders to steady yourself, blinking down at him like you hate how much he knows you already. My turn, he says, voice low, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your ruined underwear and he doesn’t touch, just hovers there. What’s the dirtiest thought you’ve ever had about me? You stare at him, startled. We’ve only known each other, like, twelve hours. Chris raises an eyebrow. You’ve definitely had thoughts.

You look away, cheeks flushed, your body still warm from the orgasm and the press of his cock trapped beneath you. Fine, you mutter. It’s from this morning. When you were standing in the kitchen, still sleepy, shirtless… stretching like that. He smirks, already smug. And I thought about getting on my knees, you continue, forcing the words past your throat, and just pulling your sweats down while you were mid-yawn. Making you lean back against the counter and letting me suck you off before you even woke up properly. His jaw flexes, hands gripping your hips so tight it makes you whimper. Fuck, he breathes, almost like a warning. You trying to kill me?

You smile, dragging your hips slowly against his, grinding the slick heat of your core over the length of his cock through the fabric. I dunno. You said we’re getting to know each other. He groans, deep and broken, eyes fluttering closed for a second. Okay, he says. New rule. Every time you don’t answer a question honestly, I get to put my mouth somewhere new. You blink. That’s the punishment?

Chris slides his hands up your shirt in one slow motion, finally lifting it over your head and tossing it aside. His gaze drops to your chest, hungry and reverent as he leans forward, brushing his mouth against the swell of one breast before licking a slow stripe over your nipple. It’ll feel like a punishment soon, he says, dragging his teeth gently across the skin until you arch into him. Now ask me something hard. Your voice is trembling now. What’s your biggest kink?

Chris looks up at you, mouth still warm and wet against your skin, his eyes dark with intent. Praise, he says. Control. Watching you fall apart because you want to, not because I’m forcing you. He licks again, sucks a little now, and your fingers sink into his hair like you need to anchor yourself. And right now? he murmurs, pulling back with a soft pop. Hearing you beg. That might top the list. You swallow, completely undone, grinding harder now just to feel more of him, leaking through your panties onto the front of his sweats. Next question, he says, voice wrecked now. How many orgasms do you think I could pull out of you if we stopped playing and really got started? And suddenly, you don’t feel like teasing anymore.

You can’t even remember what number you’re on, somewhere past twenty-one and deep into uncharted territory, half the questions aren’t even questions anymore, just confessions and dares passed between kisses and breathless moans, your body curled around his like you’ve forgotten it wasn’t always yours to hold. Chris still got that look in his eyes, wild and focused, like he’s reading every flicker of reaction off your face, adjusting his touch with surgical precision and the game—if it can even be called that anymore—is just another way to keep you strung out on tension, anticipation, the high of not knowing what he’ll ask or do next. Okay, he says, voice low and almost tender as he kisses your thigh, lips trailing dangerously close to where you’re soaked through and twitching. Would you rather have me use my mouth and take my time, or let you sit on my face and lose control? You laugh, wrecked, hoarse, practically vibrating with need. Is that even a real question?

Answer it, he says, lips brushing the edge of your underwear like a threat. Or I’ll pick for you. You glance down at him, his face between your thighs, his eyes bright and dark at once and something about the way he looks like he wants to be overwhelmed by you makes the answer easy. Your face, you whisper. I wanna ride your face.

He hums, low, approving, and pulls your underwear down so slowly it’s practically cruel, dragging them down your legs like he wants to savor every inch of bare skin. You’re lucky I like the sound of that, he murmurs, kissing up your inner thigh, hands gripping your hips as you shift to straddle his face, heart pounding so loud it drowns out the storm still raging outside. He settles back against the couch cushions, eyes fixed on you, and his voice is husky when he says, Don’t hold back.

And then his mouth is on you, devouring you with a hunger so intense it makes you cry out, your fingers flying to his hair for balance as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. His tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking and circling your clit with a precision that has you shaking, gasping his name before the first full minute is up. He moans into you like he can’t get enough, like the taste of you is something he’s needed all fucking day, and when you grind down harder, chasing the heat, he just grips your hips tighter and lets you.

You lose yourself in it, completely. Your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut as you rock against his mouth, every muscle in your body pulled tight with tension. Fuck, I—I can’t, you gasp, already close again, already ruined. You can, he growls against your cunt, the vibration of his voice shooting straight through your spine. You’re gonna come in my mouth, baby? I've got you. And when you do,it's shameless and desperate, thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm crashes over you, mouth open in a broken moan that echoes off the walls, raw and frantic as you ride it out against his tongue. He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, until you’re whimpering, until your body slumps forward with every nerve alight and his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

When you finally slide off his face, your legs barely work, and he’s panting beneath you, flushed, hair messy, lips glistening with you. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning like he just won the fucking lottery. Still counting the questions? he teases, voice rough and hoarse and yu laugh weakly, collapsing into his lap with your chest still heaving. I think we passed twenty-one a long time ago. Chris leans in, kissing you deep, messy, filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before pulling back just enough to whisper, Then maybe it’s time we stop pretending it’s still a game.

It’s not a game anymore, but neither of you stops playing, even as he lifts you into his lap again, even as his hands drag across your waist and down your spine with a hunger that makes your skin burn, you’re still trading words, still throwing questions like gasoline on a fire that’s already too big to contain. What do you want me to do to you? he asks, voice low and rough as he kisses the edge of your jaw, lips dragging down your throat, chest, teeth grazing over the mark he left earlierl you breathe out something between a laugh and a whimper, fingers curling in the waistband of his sweatpants. Want you inside me. Deep. Slow. Until I can’t even remember what I was supposed to ask next.

Chris groans, like the words knock the wind out of him, and you barely get the chance to tug his pants down before he’s helping you, lifting his hips, cock springing free, thick and flushed and so hard it makes your breath catch in your throat. He wraps a hand around himself just to tease you, dragging his palm slowly along the length, the tip smearing precum across his skin, eyes locked on yours. You sure? he murmurs, voice tight with restraint. 'Cause I want you, but I’m not gonna last long if you keep looking at me like that.

You nod, almost dizzy with need, sinking your hips until the head of his cock catches at your entrance, slick and warm and perfect as you lower yourself onto him in one slow, devastating slide that punches a moan from both of you. Fuck, he hisses, head dropping back against the couch. You feel—holy shit—so tight. You clench around him on purpose, just to hear him swear again, and he thrusts up into you shallowly, hands gripping your waist like he’s afraid you might disappear. Next question, you breathe, rocking your hips gently, letting him get used to the rhythm of you. If I told you to come inside me, would you?

Chris blinks at you like he can’t believe you said that, like the words physically affect him as his jaw flexes hard, and he thrusts up deeper, rougher, like you just snapped the last thread of his restraint. Don’t say that unless you mean it, he growls, voice raw. Because if you tell me to, I will. I’ll fill you up so deep you feel it for days. Your next breath stutters as he hits that spot again, as your walls flutter around him, your body already trying to pull him deeper. You’re insane, you gasp. And I might be worse.

Another question, he says, burying his face in your neck as he thrusts again, slower now but harder, making your whole body jolt with every movement. If I told you I wanted to fuck you on every surface in this house before the storm ends, what would you say?

You laugh—moan, really—your fingers digging into his shoulders for balance. I’d say you’d better start with the kitchen counter and work your way through the rooms alphabetically. He groans, the sound almost broken, and his hands slide down to your ass, guiding your hips as you bounce on his cock with slow, grinding rolls, the kind that drag every inch of him through you with a rhythm that borders on cruel. Fuck, he mutters again, kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, your mouth. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.

Maybe it’s the storm, maybe it’s the heat between your bodies or the way your souls feel too close already, but the words don’t scare you, they anchor you, drive you forward. Then show me, you whisper, lips brushing his. No more holding back.

And he doesn’t. He flips you onto your back on the couch with a roughness that makes you gasp, cock slipping free for only a second before he’s guiding himself back inside you in one hard, smooth thrust that makes your eyes roll back and he fucks you, slow, deep, rhythmic, his body pressed tight to yours as his hands roam everywhere at once. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do after this? he pants into your ear and you laugh, legs wrapped tight around his waist. Probably pass out.

Wrong answer. He pulls almost all the way out, waits for you to open your eyes again, then slams back in. Try again. Your head spins. Shower, you choke out. With you. Maybe round two against the wall if you're strong enough. Chris grins, breathless, sweat dripping from his brow as he picks up the pace. Better. He kisses you hard, messy, tongues tangling, and he swallows your next moan when he grinds in deeper, just to feel the way your body clenches around him. Your turn. Ask me something, he says. Hurry. Before I make you come so hard you forget how to speak. You’re already close again, body arching, nails dragging down his back, but you manage to gasp, What’s your favorite part of me?

He thrusts deep and stills, buried to the hilt, his cock twitching inside you, his voice shaking when he answers. Right now? This. His hand slides down between you, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing slow, tight circles. But if you mean really... he leans in, kisses the corner of your mouth, his voice going soft even as his thrusts turn sharp again. It’s the way you look at me, like I’m already yours.

And then he makes you come again, loud and trembling, your body clenching so hard around him that he groans and follows you seconds later, spilling into you with a long, broken sound that feels like surrender. You cling to each other through it, hips still twitching, mouths still searching, and somewhere between the kisses and the breathless laughter, you realize you stopped counting the questions a long time ago.

The world is soft when it settles, like the storm outside finally gave up, like the air around you folded into something warm and quiet and real. Your bodies are tangled on the couch, skin damp and flushed, still pressed together in the kind of closeness that feels more like a conversation than anything you’ve said out loud and he hasn’t moved much, still half on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck, one arm slung heavy over your waist. His breathing is slow now, steady, like he’s trying to memorize the rhythm of your heart with his cheek against your chest as you trail your fingers lazily through his hair, feeling the way his curls cling to your skin with sweat and time, and somewhere in the mess of it, you smile.

Hey, you whisper, voice raw, your throat a little ruined from all the gasping and laughing and moaning. If you had to rank that on a scale from one to ten— Chris groans, shifting just enough to lift his head and glare at you, but the edge doesn’t stick, he’s too blissed-out for sarcasm. Don’t make me throw you over this couch and do it again just to prove a point.

You snort, brushing a kiss against his temple. So… eleven? He sighs dramatically, flopping back beside you, arm still wrapped tight around your middle as he turns his head to look at you. His eyes are soft now, still playful, still glowing with that dangerous charm, but slower, gentler. I stopped counting, he says. Somewhere around the time you said you wanted to ride my face. Everything after that was just… instinct.

You laugh, a real one, breathless and a little unhinged, your hand sliding across his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palm. So what happens now? you ask, and you don’t mean for it to sound so honest, but there it is, naked between you. Storm’s still going, you’re still technically trapped here. Chris glances toward the window as the rain still lashes against the glass, wind howling down the alley like it’s not done being dramatic. He hums softly. Guess we’re stuck with each other.

Tragic.

Devastating. He nudges your thigh with his knee, smirking. We could watch something. Recharge. Maybe eat something that doesn’t involve my head between your legs. You fake a groan, tossing an arm over your eyes. Boring.

Okay, fine. He laughs, twisting to kiss your bare shoulder. But only if you ask me another question. You peek at him from beneath your arm, grinning. Why are you still here? He goes still for a second, the quiet between you deepening, thick with something unspoken and his voice lowers, more serious than you expect. Because this didn’t feel like a one-night thing.

Your breath catches, soft and small but he hears it, because of course he does. You roll onto your side to face him, his arm adjusting to keep you close. Yeah, you say, quieter now, eyes searching his. It didn't. For a while, neither of you says anything as the storm rolls on outside, wind still battering the windows, but it feels far away now, like the noise can’t touch this, can’t reach whatever this bubble is you’ve both fallen into. Chris shifts, brushing hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek with the same tenderness he used hours ago, when everything was still new and charged and uncertain.

And then he smilesl soft, a little shy. New rule, he says. Every time we see each other… we have to play twenty-one questions.

You raise an eyebrow. We suck at keeping count.

Exactly, he murmurs, kissing your forehead like a promise. That’s how I’ll know it’s working.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

Does anyone else go crazy on seeing body hair on idols or just me?

I fkn love it

[kcake555]

Bang Chan cake 🍰

stray kids

[luvyeni]

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── you being changbin sister could cause many problems … but he could care less …

( 対 ) yang jeongin + fem. reader wc. genre · contains! mature content. / back to library

ever since he saw you walking around the building he knew he needed to have you. chasing you down to talk to you every single time he saw you walking with a staff or one of the itzy members. he assumed you were one of their makeup artists or something, he never really thought of it — until you dropped a ball on him just as he was taking off your skirt. “who?”

“changbin.” his ears were deceiving him; or you were playing a cruel sick joke on him, it wasn’t funny considering his hand were literally down your pants , he was hovering above you in your apartment. “his sister.” you nodded; when did he even have a younger sister? “why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, almost 7 years he hadn’t known about a younger sister. “i didn’t want you to be turned off by me being related to one of your members and all.”

clearly he wasn’t turned off; just a bit shocked, but that quickly wore off when your hand crept down to his lower region. “fuck.” he cursed as you rubbed him through his pants. “you don’t seem to be turned off.” you smirked. “i’m not.” he cupped your mound, making you moan. “fuck i need to be inside you now.” he quickly got rid of your clothes , just now realizing the shirt you were wearing was on he seen on his member multiple times; giving him another reminder of who you were. he threw the shirt across the room; forgetting about as he squeezed your boobs with his big hand. “jeongin please fuck me.”

he groaned , ridding himself of his pants. “you’re so wet.” he rubbed your clothed folds. “gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy yeah?” pulling your panties to the side. “please fuck me.” you moaned as he slipped inside you. “ugh shit.” he cursed, feeling your warm walls clenching around his cock. “so-so fucking big.” you gripped his arm as he thrusted inside of you. “you can take it right , take my fat cock.” he grunted. “such a pretty slut for me.”

“fuck innie speed up.” you moan out and he held your waist up, plowing into you. “ah, fuck!” you screamed. “fuck keep going please!” your nails were digging in his skin , but he couldn’t care less. “shit , you’re clenching around me so tight.” he hissed. “you gonna cum , ma-make a fucking mess for me?” you nodded , hold your hand tightly as your legs stiffen , shaking as you came with a gasp. “fuck i’m gonna cum.” he hummed , stilling his hips as he came. “shit.” he pulled out of you , his half hard cock resting on your stomach , covered in your slick. “you’re still hard.” you said through shallow breaths.

“good thing i’m not done with you yeah?” he slipped back inside your warm cunt. “being late tomorrow is gonna be so fucking worth it.”

“jesus fucking christ.” seungmin stared at the boy's arms as he took his sweater off the next day at practice. “what fucking panther did you encounter yesterday.” his arms was red; and so was his cheeks as he recalled the night he had. “well at least know why you were late this morning.” lee know smirked. “did you use protection?” “i’m not having this conversation right now, let’s just get back to practice.”

“yeah well you should answer your phone.” hyunjin picked it up. “yn wants to know if you’re coming over after practice; also you left your sweater at her apartment.” hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows; meanwhile jeongins eyes widened in fear as hyunjin just revealed everything. “who?” changbin said. “did you say yn?”

“who’s yn?” felix asked; jisung shrugging. “yn?” chan said. “changbin don’t you have a sister named yn?” it was everyone’s turn to be wide eyed. “jeongin you didn’t.” chan said, changbin already calling you. “this is some sick joke.” jeongin spoke up. “i didn’t know you two were related i swear.” he started. “well at first.”

“what the hell do you want oppa you’ve called me 5 times already?” he finally got a hold of you. “please tell me you and jeongin didn’t do what i think you did,” he said. “jeongin how didn’t you know that was her sister?” hyunjin asked. “for starters she was walking around the building with itzy i thought she was a staff.” he said , your voice booming through the older boys phone. “yah , do i call you and ask you about what you do with other people , how dare you!” everyone went wide eyed. “it’s gross!” changbin said. “if it’s so gross , don’t ask!” and with that you ended the call , changbin turned to the boy. “i’d kill you if i didn’t think she’d kill me too.” he pushed past the boy. seungmin spoke up.

“well if just looking at her you couldn’t tell, her screaming over the phone like a crazy person like he would should.”

©️LUVYENI

[hans-wh0re]

SKZ MAKNAE LINE AND CHOKING/BREATH PLAY (?)

C.W: non-con/dub-con, breathplay(?), Objectification, nd more... MDNI

A.N: not proofread

Han:

Han can barely contain his desperate whimpers as his throbbing cock disappears between your spit-slicked lips. Any semblance of control disintegrates as the velvety heat of your throat envelops him in sinful bliss.

"Oh f-fuck...can't stop..." he rasps brokenly, thick fingers tangling in your hair to hold you still. With zero restraint, Han begins fucking your face in rough, animalistic thrusts that instantly have you gagging. Harsh grunts and muffled choking sounds fill the air as he uses your mouth like a personal fuckhole, fat cock battering past your convulsing throat again and again.

Hot tears stream down your ravaged cheeks but Han couldn't care less, too overwhelmed by the perfection of being encased in your searing depths.

"N-need to...get deeper..." he growls, the hand not fisted in your hair pressing insistently against the back of your skull. Your nose is smashed against his pelvis as Han finally sheathes himself to the root, cutting off all airflow.

You struggle weakly against his bruising grasp, vision hazing and lungs screaming for oxygen. But Han is too drunk on pleasure and power to notice, ecstasy washing over his features as he swivels his hips to grind that thick length impossibly deeper.

"So fucking tight...g-gonna...use this c-cocksleeve..." Harsh, broken pants accompany each savage thrust down your spasming throat. Just as blackness fully encroaches, Han hilts himself with a bestial roar, ropes of sticky release flooding the impossibly stuffed channel of your throat...

Felix:

Felix whines needily as you clamp your hand around his throat, pupils blown wide with lust. His slender frame writhes shamelessly beneath you, desperately seeking friction against your thigh. You drink in the decadent sight of his taut body arching wantonly, delirious with desire for your cruel touch.

"Please.. F-uck~...let me breathe," he gasps brokenly, lips parted in a silent scream as you mercilessly cut off his airflow. Rather than comply, you tighten your grip, watching his pretty face redden as you leisurely steal his oxygen.

He mewls like a bitch in heat, hips stuttering against you as his desperation mounts. You moan at the delicious sight of such a beautiful boy reduced to a squirming, humping mess - all because you hold the power over his very life. Felix's eyes roll back as you crush his windpipe, thrashing weakly as darkness encroaches.

Just before he slips into unconsciousness, you finally release him, drinking in the erotic spectacle of him gulping down air like a man dying of thirst. Felix whimpers brokeningly, face flushed and shining with a sheen of exertion as his cock twitches angrily.

"Look at you...so worked up and wrecked for me" you croon victoriously, savoring the frantic glaze in those blown-wide eyes, leaning down slowly to lick a tear from his left cheek.

"You're absolutely stunning like this Lixie, so perfect for me."

With a bruising grip on his throat, you yank him against your body, delighting in his strangled cry. Felix trembles uncontrollably as you grind your clothed heat over his straining erection, adding to the delicious torment. "Keep whining for me baby, beg me to let you breathe..."

Seungmin:

A sinful groan rumbles through Seungmin's chest as he drinks in the erotic sight of you - lips swollen and spit-slicked, utterly debauched on his thick cock. He tangles his fingers into your sweat-damp hair, using the grip to yank you deeper onto his punishing length.

"Open those pretty eyes and look at me while I skull-fuck this greedy little mouth," he rasps, voice pitched low with heady arousal. You struggle to obey through the harsh gagging, throat convulsing violently to accommodate his invasion.

Yet you adore every second of the degrading treatment, pussy clenching needily around nothing as Seungmin carelessly chases his own pleasure using your body. His hips snap forward with increasing brutality, cockhead battering the slick entrance to your throat as fat tears roll down your cheeks.

"Yeah, take it all like a good slut," Seungmin growls victoriously, savoring each gurgled, strangled cry that bubbles past your spit-slick lips. He looms over you, entranced by the sight of his girth disappearing into your O-shaped mouth again and again, obscenely stretching your pretty features.

You shudder violently as his thumb traces the straining column of your neck, grinding hard against the frantic pulses fluttering just beneath. With a harsh squeeze, Seungmin cuts off what little airflow remains, transforming your whimpers to sporadic, garbled gasps.

Strings of drool pour wantonly down your chin, swaying with each ruthless thrust into your rapidly constricting throat. Every ragged heave of your chest grows more desperate as consciousness grows hazy.

Yet you wouldn't have it any other way - wholly enslaved to Seungmin's sadistic whims, reduced to nothing but a set of holes to use and discard at his leisure.

Just as the world threatens to fade to black entirely, sweet oblivion taunting at the edges of your vision, Seungmin pulls free with a vulgar squelch. Your lungs scream for mercy as you greedily gulp down air, soiled ropes of spit and precome streaking your features.

"Good girl taking everything i gave her," he husks voice adorned with softness despite the harshness of his hand pressing on your jaw, lazily stroking himself to completion over your freshly-abused face with his free hand...

Jeongin:

Jeongin's lips brush your ear in a hot whisper, sending molten tendrils of need licking through your veins. "Open up for me, pretty girl." He punctuates the command by dipping his clever tongue into the hollow below your ear, mapping every twitch and shudder with a low rumble of satisfaction.

A whimpering moan spills from your parted lips as you obediently let your jaw go slack, eagerly awaiting his violation. Jeongin groans in guttural appreciation at the sight of your tongue lolling out, glistening strings of drool already painting your chin in lewd strands.

"So fucking pretty and needy," he husks, sliding two slender fingers between your lips to stuff your mouth full. You suckle on the thick digits helplessly, swirling your tongue around the calloused pads as Jeongin cups your jaw firmly.

He slowly increases the pressure, cutting off your airflow in torturously gradual increments. Darkness creeps in along the edges of your vision as your lungs burn, body thrashing weakly against his iron grip. Stringy ropes of drool gush from the corners of your stretched lips, dribbling down your chin and throat in an obscene display.

Jeongin's cock twitches hotly against your cheek at the sight of you so thoroughly debauched and helpless, rutting shamelessly as he drinks in your desperate, muffled whimpers. "That's it, take it all for me like a filthy little slut," he growls, burying his fingers to the knuckle and relishing your gagging convulsions.

Just before you slip into blessed oblivion, he finally releases you with a cruel smirk, eyes drunk on your ruinned state. You slump forward, coughing and retching up thick ropes of drool that splash over your heaving tits. Jeongin hungrily laps up the mess coating your flushed skin, reveling in the taste of your fucked-up state...

 → Hyung-line

A.N: Me and my fucked up brain that only gets inspired at work, writing this at lunch break lmao 😭 also i tried my best to not let this be repetitive (writing the same thing about 8 people without it being similar is soo hard, so turn a blind eye pretty plz 👉👈)

[kpopkurves]

Velvet Sin

Themes: Dark Romance | Obsession | Possessive | Power Play | NSFW Themes (Implied)

Pairing Bang Chan x Reader/YN

Part 1 of ???

⸻

The air was thick—suffocating with heat and hunger, laced with the kind of silence that screamed. The only light came from the flicker of candles dripping wax down antique holders, and the slow, steady inhale of the man leaning against the wall like sin dressed in black.

Bang Chan.

He didn’t speak. Just watched you.

Eyes dark. Patient. Consuming.

He had that look again—like he was deciding whether to kiss you or destroy you. Maybe both.

“You were late,” he finally said, voice gravel and silk, low enough to make your stomach knot.

“I had to—”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was sharp, a blade cloaked in velvet.

You flinched before you could stop yourself. That always amused him. You were brave with everyone else, but not with him. Not when his control could unravel you with just a glance.

Chan pushed off the wall and stalked toward you with the kind of slow, calculated steps that made your breath catch. There was something predatory in the way he moved—like he already owned every inch of you, and was just deciding how to remind you.

“You think I don’t see the way they look at you?” he murmured, circling you. “The way you look back? Like I wouldn’t notice. Like you forgot who your fucking soul belongs to.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t talk. Not until I say you can.”

His gloved fingers slid beneath your jaw, tilting your chin up until your eyes met his. There was heat there—yes—but also danger. Obsession.

“I should keep you here,” he whispered. “Hidden. Locked in this room. Where no one else can look at you. Touch you. Tempt you.”

You trembled, not from fear—but from the weight of wanting that too much.

He leaned in, nose brushing yours, lips just barely grazing. “You don’t belong to the world, {Y/N}. You belong to me.”

“I’m not yours,” you whispered, weakly—because even you didn’t believe it anymore.

He chuckled, dark and low. “Oh sweetheart. That lie doesn’t even sound good in your mouth.”

His hand slid down your throat to your chest, resting flat over your heartbeat. “This? It beats for me. Every thud is a reminder of who owns you. I don’t just want your body. I want your mind. Your fear. Your loyalty. I want the broken parts too.”

You felt dizzy—drunk on him, on the way his presence swallowed every thought.

Chan’s lips ghosted along your ear. “Say it,” he demanded. “Say who you belong to.”

You closed your eyes. The fight in you had long since burned to ash.

“I belong to you.”

His lips curved against your skin. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he kissed you—hard, consuming, dangerous. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask permission, the kind that marked. Claimed. Seared itself into your soul.

And when he pulled back, breathless and wild-eyed, he said the words that would stay with you long after the lights went out.

“I’ll ruin every version of you that doesn’t belong to me.”

And deep down, you wanted him to.

⸻

You left in the middle of the night.

No goodbye. No note. Just silence, like it might erase the hold he had on you. Your footsteps echoed down the marble hallway, each one heavier than the last, like your body already knew this wasn’t real. That you couldn’t outrun him.

But you had to try.

Because Chan was consuming you—thought by thought, breath by breath. He didn’t just love you. He possessed you. And that kind of love… it was lethal.

For three weeks, you stayed gone. A new city. A new number. You stopped looking over your shoulder, stopped checking every black car that passed. Almost convinced yourself that you were free.

Until tonight.

The knock on the door was slow—methodical. You knew it before you opened it. Knew it in your bones. Your heart tried to climb out of your chest as you turned the knob.

He was standing there, drenched in midnight and fury.

Bang Chan. Unbothered. Dangerous. Home.

“You really thought you could leave me?” he asked, voice calm in a way that made your blood run cold.

“I had to,” you whispered. “You were suffocating me.”

He stepped inside without permission, closing the door behind him with a click that sounded like a lock on a cage.

“Suffocating you?” he repeated, stepping closer until your back hit the wall. “No, baby. I breathed for you. I gave you everything. And you threw it away.”

“You controlled everything—”

“Because you’re mine.” His hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head. “I know your darkness. I know what you crave. Don’t pretend you didn’t love being ruined by me.”

Your breath hitched. Because he was right.

You missed the chaos. The obsession. The way he made you feel like the center of the universe—even if the gravity was killing you.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You think you can live without me? You think I won’t tear the world apart to keep you?”

His hand found your wrist, dragging it up and pressing your palm against his chest. His heart pounded beneath your touch—fast, wild, angry.

“This is what you did to me. You left me bleeding for you. Every second you were gone, I wanted to burn the world down.”

“You don’t own me, Chan.”

He laughed—a low, unhinged sound. “No? Then why did you open the door?”

Silence.

You hated how right he was.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he whispered, brushing his lips against your ear. “You don’t want freedom. You want me. The chaos. The control. The way I bend you to my will and make you beg for more.”

Your body betrayed you, leaning in—desperate, weak.

“You’ll run again,” he murmured, voice dripping with dark affection. “But you’ll always come back. Because no one else knows how to love the broken, filthy parts of you like I do. No one else will worship your ruin like I do.”

He kissed you then—brutal, claiming, the kind of kiss that pulled you under and didn’t let go. You moaned against his mouth, hating how much you needed him. Hating how good it felt to be wanted this violently.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was low and final.

“There’s no way out, {Y/N}. You’re mine. In this life, and the next.”

And in the sickest part of your soul—the one he’d carved his name into—you knew he was right.

You never really left.

[miupow]

hear me out...chan trying to fit it in but he's too big and he's whispering all kinds of stuff trying to get you to take it and you're frustrated and needy and you're just so !! done !! because it feels empty and he's so close yet he's not in and finally finally, his thick tip catches and he inches in agonizingly slow simply to hear you whine for it

꒰୨୧◞ ⤷ ❛❛ TOO BIG ! ❜❜ .ᐟ bang chan.

[ ⟡ ] ── minors do not interact ! ⭑ fem!reader , soft dom!chan , est. relationship , monster cock chris lol , size kink , dirty talk , praise kink , daddy kink , missionary/mating press , unprotected sex , bulge kink

a/n ⸝⸝ happy (late) comeback day !! i’m not very proud of this drabble but it’s here and i’m posting it anyway lol <3 save me big dick chris.. save me..

♡ ⸝⸝ ꒰ m.list ꒱ ‧ ꒰ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ꒱

“it’s too big, channie,” you whimper, peering down between your legs— the big fat tip of chan’s cock throbs an angry red as he slides it up between your pussy lips, taps it against your fluttering hole. your ankles dangle in the air over his shoulders, thighs pushed up to your chest by his body pinning you against the mattress, so close you could feel his hot breath, ache for a kiss from the plump, spit-slick lips he bit in arousal. he grips the base of his shaft in one hand, guiding it to push at your rim; you’re frightened by the sheer size of it, thick as a can, veins fat and pulsing… the pressure of it was already overwhelming yet you roll your hips down eagerly, desperate for it to slide in and fill you up.

“shh, stay still, babygirl,” chan coos so sweet, his veiny hand splayed out across your tummy. “and take this fucking cock. daddy knows you can.”

your pussy is making it difficult, so wet chan’s cock misses your hole, slides up your folds to bump against your clit. you shake in pleasure and frustration, reaching your hand down to take ahold of chan’s cock yourself— chan lets you with a warm smile, his thick arms shaking with every slick twist of your hand.

“you need me that bad, baby?” he chuckles, breathless. “thought you said it was too big.”

“i’m so empty,” you whine in response, angling his flared head to spear your core. “need your big cock, daddy—“ finally, finally his tip catches and slides in, sudden yet so achingly slow, your eyes rolling back in tandem with chan’s deep, guttural groan; the stretch burns deliciously, clouds over your senses as your mouth drops open in a moan for more.

“there you go, baby, just like that,” chan continues to bully his cock in past your tight rim, slow and gentle— but there’s nothing gentle about the way he fills you up, inch by fat, throbbing inch stretching your wet gummy walls to their limits. you can feel every ridge, every vein drag hot and heavy… you let go of his shaft in favor for scratching deep red marks into his flexing bicep, scrambling for something to hold on to and ground you. “daddy’s good girl, taking his cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“b-big—!” you croak in a daze, an echo of your earlier sentiments; it was all you could manage to make yourself say, rendered brainless in an instant as chan’s blunt cockhead kisses your cervix. “so— so fucking big! ‘n deep, daddy, fuck—“

“yeah?” chan huffs, hips stuttering flush against yours. “am i too big for your little cunt, baby? feel me all the way up here?”

he presses down on the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you; you desperately want him to move, start pounding your pussy like you’ve been wanting so, so badly… you eagerly nod at chan’s teasing words, buck your hips the best you can folded in half. “yes, yes!” you wail, voice slurred, “give it to me daddy, please!”

“you’re so pretty when you’re begging for me, angel,” chan grins crookedly, pulling his hips back to slide himself out of your hole. you hold your breath in wicked anticipation. “beg some more and i’ll give you what you need.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

On the beach

a/n: this is the same pairing from Among the trees but you don't need to read that one to enjoy this!🩵

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut

wc: 3.2k

warnings: perv hyun, 'innocent' reader, semi public sex, nipple/breast play, oral (m), masturbation, cum tasting, breeding kink, creampie, praise, implied free use

masterlist

It was a beautiful summer morning, golden sun rays highlighting all the prettiest parts of nature and your boyfriend suggested taking advantage of the nice weather by going to the beach.

You nodded your head eagerly, of course. You always loved the beach but what you loved most is seeing the wide smile on Hyunjin's face whenever you'd say 'yes' to him.

He always rewarded your obedience in one way or another, yet your biggest reward was always his happiness and satisfaction.

Hyunjin had added that this was not a regular beach and you cocked your confused little head sideways, asking him what he meant by that.

He only smirked mischievously and asked you not to wear any underwear under your pretty sundress. And that's how you currently sat in the passenger seat of his car, your thighs rubbing together as you already felt aroused in excitement.

"Angel." Hyunjin warned gently but firmly, his hand gripping at your bare thigh. You exhaled, relaxing your legs and trying to be still.

Hyunjin wasn't doing any better than you, his length was already twitching in his pants at the sight of you squirming. He thought about your pussy, you were probably soaking already, just begging to be stuffed with his cock.

He had to check. His hand slowly slid upwards towards your core, fingertips tickling your inner thighs and you spread your legs a little, anticipating his touch. Hyunjin's fingers came in contact with your wetness and he swiped once before retracting his hand and licking at his fingers.

"Sweet angel. We're almost there, be a little more patient for me, will you?" he looked at you before turning to a dirt road.

"Yes, Hyunjin." you whimpered quietly.

"That's my good girl." he smiled and kept driving until you got to a secluded beach, enveloped by trees and rocks, hidden away from the world.

You didn't see a single soul there except a few seagulls and your heart started beating fast in anticipation. Hyunjin parked and got out of the car and you waited as he gathered the stuff you needed before coming around to open your door.

"Let's go, princess." Hyunjin smiled, reaching his hand out to you. Your hand got lost in his big palm as you grabbed it and he helped you out before locking the car. His eyes fell down to your chest, your nipples were poking against the thin, white fabric of the dress, there for him to look at and play with.

"Come on." he said, taking your hand in his once again and leading you towards the sand.

You set up your towels and Hyunjin looked around before sitting down and looking up at you.

"Take your dress off." he said and you gasped a little, fidgeting with the hem of it.

"B-but I have nothing under." you looked around with wide eyes and Hyunjin chuckled. You were so cute and innocent that he just wanted to eat you up.

"That's the point, my little doe. This is a nude beach so we are going to be nude here." he explained and you gasped again.

"But what if someone else comes here?" you gulped.

"Angel. Do as I say." Hyunjin's eyes darkened as he wrapped his fingers around your ankle.

"Okay." your entire body flushed, a wave rushing through you because you loved Hyunjin commanding you like that. You gripped the hem of your dress and took it off, putting it aside.

"So pretty, my princess. Sit down."

You did as he said and he looked at you for a moment before stripping too. When he took his boxers off, his cock sprung out and it was already hard just from looking at you.

A little whimper escaped your lips as you licked at them. Every time you saw his dick you wanted to have him anywhere inside you, or at least in your hands, you just needed to feel him.

"Come closer, princess." Hyunjin smiled and you scooted closer, facing him.

"Now, I don't want you to be unprotected in the sun so pass me the sunscreen." he said and you nodded, rummaging through the bag he brought until you found the bottle and gave it to him.

Hyunjin smirked as you looked around, your cheeks rosy, your arms coming up to cover yourself.

"Angel, it's okay. No one will see you here but me. I promise." he took your hand in his and kissed it and you sighed, placing your hands down on the towel so Hyunjin had a good view of your beautiful breasts.

He gave you a smile as he went back to his original task and poured some of the sun cream on his palms, placing them on your ankle. He slowly slid them up, spreading the cream on your skin and you bit on your lip, swallowing a moan.

Hyunjin's hands always made you melt as soon as he would put them on you, no matter what he was doing, even if it was a slight tap or gentle brush of his fingers.

Hyunjin stared at you intently, watching as your eyes became more and more hazy while he massaged your foot, then your calf up to your thigh. He could see you were struggling, becoming aroused but trying to hide it as you squirmed and looked around. With a smirk, he repeated his actions on your other leg before gripping your ankles and pulling you closer to him.

You gasped as he spread your legs and then gave extra attention to your inner thighs, massaging them and watching you quiver under his touch.

It was getting harder to breathe and you dug your nails into the towel, your brows furrowed as you threw your head back. Hyunjin's eyes scanned over your parted lips, your breasts quivering as you shook a little and breathed hard. You were already under his spell.

His fingertips came closer to your core every time he slid up and then the stimulation stopped and you snapped out of it, looking at him. Hyunjin let out a chuckle, eyes traveling to your pussy.

You were so wet for him, aroused like crazy just from him massaging your legs. You whimpered and tried to close them as you felt embarrassed but Hyunjin gripped your thigh.

"Princess, show me what belongs to me." his voice was low and dark, something dangerous dripping from his lips.

Swallowing, you opened your legs, your hands falling between them before you leaned back a little, fingertips on either sides of your pussy as you spread it open.

"Looks like it's missing something, hm?" Hyunjin chuckled, a smirk gracing his lips and you nodded, chewing on your lip as you clenched around nothing and he saw it.

"Be patient, my little doe." he said, motioning for you to turn your back to him. With a quiet whine, you obeyed and turned around, gathering your hair away so Hyunjin can put sunscreen on your back.

"It's so peaceful here." you said after a few moments of silence as you melted under his comforting and soft touch.

"Mhm, you like it my angel?" he leaned over your shoulder and kissed your cheek.

"I really do." you nodded.

"It's like the beach is only ours. I love taking you to places like this." he leaned into your ear. "And fucking you in places like this." his lips brushed against you and you shivered, pressing your thighs together.

"H-Hyunjin." you whimpered when his hands wrapped around you only to grip at your breasts.

You arched into his touch, immediately giving into him as you leaned your head back on his shoulder. Hyunjin groaned and massaged your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as his lips attached to your neck. Your eyes closed and you enjoyed the way he was kissing, licking and nipping at your skin while playing with your sensitive buds.

"Play with your little clit for me." he gently bit on your ear and you whimpered, spreading your legs and pressing your fingertips into your nub, moving them in slow circles.

"That's it, good girl. Keep going." Hyunjin encouraged as he kept ravaging your neck, leaving marks on it and gripping your breasts harder. Your whimpers got louder as you sped up and pressed harder on your clit, your legs trembling as you forgot completely that you were outside.

"Stop." Hyunjin ordered suddenly and you whined but obeyed. "I want you to finger yourself. Get yourself ready for me, angel. Just how you do when you wait for me to come home from work."

"Mm, Hyunjin." you moaned, sliding your fingertips through your wet folds.

"That's it." he looked down at your fingers disappearing inside your little pussy. You started moving them slowly and Hyunjin let out a chuckle as he looked at you, so sweet and obedient for him. He wrapped himself around you and you felt his length pressing into your lower back. He gripped your thighs, spreading them as he put them over his.

"Keep going, angel." he said when your hand stuttered and you sped up a little, feeling your pussy spreading more as he opened your legs with his further, making you fuck yourself deeper.

"Ah!" you whimpered, arching up into your hand, your fingers couldn't even compare to Hyunjin's longer ones that reached so much deeper and felt so much better.

"Make yourself cum, angel. You can do it." Hyunjin encouraged you, playing with your breasts and then running his hands on your waist and stomach, down to your navel and dangerously close to your clit but he purposely avoided it.

You whined, tears of frustration building up in your eyes. You coul never cum without him, he trained you so well to only cum from his fingers, tongue or dick that you had trouble even finishing on your own fingers. Usually you would just play with yourself until he got home and made you cum with his mouth first before using you for his pleasure.

"You need my help, little doe?" Hyunjin smirked, pinching and pulling on your nipples.

"Please, Hyune." you whimpered, looking up at him with teary eyes. Your body was so heated up under the sun and in Hyunjin's arms, the little breeze that caressed your skin was welcomed as you felt like you were burning up.

"When you ask so nicely, my angel." he said, his hand gripping at yours and pushing your fingers deeper. A loud moan escaped your lips as he started controlling your hand, making you fuck yourself harder with it. His other hand pressed softly on your navel, his fingertips on your clit as he moved them in circles.

"H-Hyunjin!" you gripped at his thigh with your free hand, shaking against him as he helped bring you closer to your high.

"You can do it, princess." Hyunjin whispered in your ear before kissing the spot under it and sinking his teeth into it. Your moans kept getting louder as he cooed at you and encouraged you until you finally exploded all over your fingers with his name on your lips.

"That's my good girl." he praised, kissing your cheek as he gripped your wrist gently and asked you to turn towards him again. You turned and kneeled, waiting for his next command and Hyunjin brought the hand with your essence on it to his cock.

"Touch me." his voice came out breathy and you gulped, wrapping your fingers around him. He was already wet from precum and your juices added onto it to make your hand glide against him easily.

"Just like that, love." he said, observing you for a while as you moved your hand up and down, flicking your wrist just how he liked you to before motioning for you to come closer.

"Keep going." he said, gripping your breast and leaning in. You moaned quietly as he licked at your nipple before wrapping his plump lips around it and sucking. You gripped his length and it twitched in your hand as he groaned against you, sucking on your breast harder. You were burning up, touching him like that, feeling his cock so hot and heavy in your palm as he sucked on your breast harshly. You pressed your legs together, tearing up as you felt sensitive and needed more.

Hyunjin gave both your breasts equal love and you moved your hand faster, your other hand grabbing and massaging his balls.

"Angel." he groaned, looking at you hazily before he grabbed your hands and moved them away. He gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail and you knew what that meant, leaning down instantly to wrap your lips around his cock.

Hyunjin moaned, gripping your hair as you slid down, taking more of him in and hollowing your cheeks. You tasted both him and yourself as you swirled your tongue on him, the taste making you drip with more arousal.

Hyunjin gripped your head and pushed you down, making you gag around him as your nose pressed into his smooth skin.

"Good girl." he lifted you up as you coughed. "Soon, you'll be able to take all of it by yourself, hm?" Hyunjin said, caressing your face and you nodded, blinking your tears away.

"Shh." he wiped your tears and kissed you gently before pushing you down on your back.

"Open your legs for me, angel." he said and your legs fell open. Hyunjin let out a little chuckle as he gripped at your thighs and pushed your knees up to your shoulders.

"Just like that. You look so beautiful like this. All for me, princess." he gently slapped your pussy, making you whimper. "Mine." he almost growled.

"Only yours, Hyunjin." you bit on your lip, shivering as he hovered over you and grabbed his cock before pushing it inside you. It always fascinated him how easily you took all of him in despite being so small and tight, he was proud that he was fucking you so well that your pussy was now shaped like his cock, always ready to be filled like two puzzle pieces connecting together perfectly.

"Sweet girl." Hyunjin groaned as he started moving his hips slowly at first, wanting to feel your little pussy clenching around him and keeping him inside, all warm and snuggly.

His hands were on your breasts again as he looked at your face, lips parted in pleasure as you reveled in the feeling of his cock inside you. It drove him crazy how good you were for him so he gripped at your inner thighs, pressing them down more as he started slapping his hips into your harder. You moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back as Hyunjin brought his weight down on your core, making sure he was going as deep and hard as he could.

"H-Hyu-Hyu-ah!" you shook, you couldn't even say his name from the way he took your breath away. You couldn't hold it in at all, exploding around his cock in an instant and coating him in your juices.

"Fuck." he cursed under his breath and pulled out, making you whine at the loss.

"You already made a mess, angel. Come here and taste it." he smirked at you and you gasped, sitting up and kneeling in front of him as he stood up. Your legs shook for a moment and he grabbed your hair, bringing your lips closer to his cock.

You wrapped them around him instantly, enjoying the dirty feeling of tasting yourself on his dick.

You sucked eagerly, swirling your tongue and swallowing around him and Hyunjin groaned loudly, fucking into your mouth and pushing all the way to the back of your throat again.

"So pretty." he smirked as you gagged. "And so good for me. You deserve your reward, angel."

Your reward. The part you always looked forward to the most even though you enjoyed anything Hyunjin did to you, there was something so raw and primal about him cumming inside you and filling you up. You loved the feeling of the warm liquid heating up your insides, you loved that Hyunjin was the only man that ever came inside you, that you were completely his, especially in that moment. And most of all, you hoped every time he filled you up that it stuck so you belonged to him forever.

"Get on all fours." Hyunjin said breathlessly and you did as you were told, your palms and knees pressed into the towel as you looked up at the sea before you, the sun sparkling on the surface and the waves licking the sand.

Hyunjin gripped your hips and pushed in, the new angle making him touch the deepest parts of you.

"Mm." you moaned, eyes fluttering. Hyunjin leaned over you and gently held your jaw in his hand, making you look forward.

"Don't I always give you the best views, my little doe?" he snickered in your ear and you whined, clenching around him as he straightened up before gripping your hips again.

You pushed back into him and Hyunjin started snapping his hips into you hard, the sound of it filling up your ears together with the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks on the side of the beach. Hyunjin ran his hand up your back and you arched it more, making him hit even deeper. He gathered your hair in his hand and pulled back as you moaned loudly, falling apart on his cock while he fucked you hard.

"Fuck!" Hyunjin groaned, his hips snapping even harder into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. "That's it, angel. Be fucking loud. Let everyone hear whose cock you love the most." he growled through gritted teeth, pulling your head back.

His name spilled from your lips repeatedly as you exploded, squirting around his length.

"Such a good girl for me." Hyunjin pushed you down, holding your hips again as he kept pounding into you. "Gonna stuff you with my cum now. Breed this little pussy." he said, smacking your ass and you yelped loudly, squeezing around him.

Hyunjin's hips stuttered and he pushed in deep as he exploded inside you and you whimpered quietly, enjoying the feeling of his warm cum filling you up.

Hyunjin pulled out and scooped you up in his strong arms, wrapping them around you and you melted into him, pressing your cheek on his chest and brushing your lips against his damp skin that always smelled so good to you.

"You did so well, my angel. I love you so much." he caressed your hair as you touched his back.

"I love you so much, Jinnie." you looked up at him with eyes full of love and admiration and he gave you a sweet smile before kissing you gently.

You stayed like that for some time, caressing and kissing each other before you sat up.

"Did we even come here to swim?" you asked and Hyunjin bursted into giggles.

"Of course we'll swim. And then enjoy each other some more, what do you say princess?" he smirked, caressing your cheek.

"Anything you want, Hyunjin." you smiled, pressing your lips against his again.

And he knew your words were true, he knew you would do anything for him and that made him love you even more.

@moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @hwangjoanna @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @my-neurodivergent-world @hyyunjinnn @spookybuttsstuff-blog @pancake-freckle @felixsbrowniesarmystayengene @minhooofr

[milkteabinniechan]

★Boyfriend Chan drabble***

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

***what happens when you accidentally call your boyfriend "daddy?"

"Wait- what did you call me?" Chan groaned, stopping your rutting hips for a moment. You pulled your head up from the crook of his neck and held your breath.

"No, nothing. I... I said... Channie!" You smiled weakly, hoping he would believe the obvious lie. His eyes narrowed and his lips spread into a suspicious little grin. His hands moved down to your hips and squeezed. "That's too bad." He whispered. "I was hoping you called me something else." His fingertips pressed into the pillow-soft flesh of your legs.

You let out a soft whine as you felt him twitch and grow between your legs. Making out had always turned into dry humping with Chan. And drying humping always turned into fucking. But you hadn't seen him in weeks and your vibrator just wasn't cutting it anymore. And just the smell of him was sending your hormones into overdrive. You fantasized about calling him Daddy. When you would turn your vibrator on and spread your legs just enough to get comfortable, you'd imagine it was his face down there. It was his tongue lapping and licking at your clit while you squirmed and writhed on the bed. And if the orgasm was really fucking good, sometimes you would let out a soft "Daddy..." Into the darkness of your bedroom.

"Say it again. Let me hear it, baby." Chan held your chin in his hand. His words swam around your ear, down your chest and between your legs. You felt your stomach tighten from your need to have him and you couldn't wait anymore. Fuck, you just couldn't wait anymore. "Daddy..." You whimpered.

Chan continued to hold your chin in his hands, letting his fingers slip in and out of your mouth whenever he pleased. His smirk grew wider every time you whined when your mouth was left empty again. He continued to push his throbbing hard bulge up into you. He looked down where their hips met and let out a deliciously seductive noise. "Hmm. You’re desperate for it, huh? Look at the way you’re grinding against me. The way you keep pulling my fingers in." Chan loved talking about you like this, and he knew how much it turned you on too.

"Fuck- and you’re so wet." Chan lifted his hips higher this time to peel off his boxers, pulling them down just enough to allow his cock to spring out with a triumphant bounce. He inched his boxers down more and placed you comfortably back down on his bare cock. Your eyes flicked up to Chan, waiting patiently for him to remove your thong. He knew to leave your panties for last, his favorite piece of clothing covering his most favorite part of you.

Chan ran his hand down your back as you kissed him passionately. His large hand traveled gently down your back stopping at the thin waistband of your thong. He hooked his index and middle finger around the thin black material snug around your hip and slowly pulled downward. He took his time, watching your hips roll into him. The black thong slid down your soft skin until your most sensitive area was completely exposed. Chan groaned into your mouth as his cock briefly rubbed against your bare folds.

"That's it, pretty girl." He fastened his hands on your hips and lightly lifted you up, leaving room for him to position himself at your entrance. Chan was silently thanking himself for lifting you up like this, you looked so perfect and he would try his best not to cum immediately. Chan slowly lowered you down onto his length, while he kissed your chest slowly. "You're doing so well, baby. Daddy is so proud of you.”

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[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content. dirty talk. unprotected sex. semi-public sex. slight voyeurism. reader and jeongin get caught by chan lol.

notes: this one was kinda delayed a bit cuz i've been working on my 1k followers event (!!). it's gonna be my next post so look forward it it! but yeah...jeongin please don't read this. love you <3

Jeongin's hands are warm on your thighs, his breath coming fast against your collarbone as he presses you against the cold marble counter. It started off innocent—his shirt hanging loose off your body, the dorms quiet, the two of you sneaking kisses between grabbing snacks. But then your legs parted. Then your fingers slipped into his hair. Then his mouth found the sensitive spot below your ear and suddenly your panties were shoved to the side and he was pressing into you, deep and desperate.

"You're gonna get us caught," you whisper, but your voice trembles when he thrusts up again—slow, firm, so deep you nearly slide backward against the counter.

"No one's home," he murmurs, eyes locked on your face, watching every flicker of reaction. "Unless you're that loud."

You try to snap something back, but the sound that comes out is a moan instead, and his hand is on your mouth before the second one can escape.

"Shhh," he coos, all mock-gentle, as he keeps fucking into you, slow but with purpose. "You can't be good for one second, can you?"

Your eyes roll back when his thumb brushes over your clit, the angle obscene, your bare ass pressed to the edge of the counter, legs shaking. Every thrust is messier than the last, his teeth clenched, sweat dotting his hairline. You’re already so close—so close you don’t even hear the front door click open.

But he does.

He freezes, cock buried deep, palm still over your mouth as muffled voices echo faintly down the hall.

“Don’t. Move,” he hisses, and you nod, wide-eyed, pulse thumping in your throat.

 Jeongin doesn’t pull out. He just grabs your wrist and drags you, cock still buried inside you, the obscene stretch making you stumble as he backs you toward the pantry. He kicks the door open, maneuvers the two of you inside with practiced ease, and slams it shut behind you, plunging you into darkness. 

“Hands on the shelves,” he growls, breath hot against your neck. “Spread your legs. You wanna act like a slut in the kitchen? You can act like one in here too.” 

You whimper, already so close you feel your knees threaten to buckle—but you do as he says, fingertips curling around the edge of the lowest shelf, cheek pressed against the wall. The moment he sinks back in, your body jerks forward with the force of it. His pace is different now—slow, punishing. He’s teasing you, drawing it out, hips rolling into you with obscene precision, every drag of his cock like he knows exactly how it wrecks you. 

“I should leave you like this,” he whispers in your ear, voice so quiet it sends shivers down your spine. “So desperate and dripping, stuffed full, but not allowed to cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You open your mouth to answer but all that comes out is a tiny, desperate moan. 

“Shit—” Jeongin hisses under his breath, one arm circling your waist to keep you pressed against him as he uses his other foot to slam against the bottom of the door. 

“Ugh, it’s jammed again,” a voice calls out—Changbin, you think, far too close.

Jeongin’s hips twitch. Just a little. Barely a thrust. But you feel it. And you gasp—too loud. His hand slams over your mouth again, harder this time, his other arm wrapping around you to keep you pinned to his chest. You can feel him smirking against your temple, cock twitching inside you like this is a game he’s winning. He keeps his foot braced against the door. 

“Just get the chips from the cabinet,” another voice replies—Hyunjin, distant. “That thing’s always stuck. And tell Chan to fix it again.” 

Footsteps fade. Silence returns. And Jeongin exhales hard against your neck, lips curling into a dark smile as he fucks into you just a little bit harder

“You little shit,” you whisper furiously the second his hand falls from your mouth, your body still trembling from the near miss. “You did that on purpose.”

Jeongin’s laugh is barely a breath, but you can hear the wicked smirk in it.

“What, this?” Another slow, torturous thrust. Your whole body jolts.

You smack at his arm, heat flooding your cheeks. “I hate you.”

He noses along your jaw, voice all mock innocence. “That’s not what it felt like a second ago.That’s not what it feels like right now.”

Jeongin is still inside you, still so deep, when Chan’s voice drifts down the hall.

“Bin, what’s wrong with the door?”

You swear your heart stops. Jeongin’s grip tightens around your waist, a silent warning, his cock twitching inside you as you both freeze. Your cheek is still pressed against the wall, legs shaking, the stretch of him unbearable in the best way. But now—now you can barely think past the terror of getting caught, past the way his pulse thuds wildly against your spine.

“Pantry’s jammed,” Changbin calls back, irritation thick in his voice. “You gotta fix this shit, man. We’re gonna take it off its hinges one of these days.”

Jeongin exhales against your neck, soft but heavy, like he’s about to make the most reckless decision of his life.

Chan groans. “Did you try—”

The handle rattles.

Your entire body clenches at once. Around Jeongin. He sucks in a sharp breath, fingers digging into your hip.

Oh, fuck.

Another tug. Harder this time.

Still nothing.

A pause. A silence so thick you could suffocate in it.

Then, a shift in the air—a tiny inhale, just barely audible, but Jeongin hears it. He must, because his lips brush your ear, a wicked smile in his voice as he whispers, “He knows.”

Your stomach drops.

“He knows, baby,” Jeongin hums, rolling his hips the tiniest bit forward. You bite down on your wrist to keep from crying out. “And he’s still standing there.”

The sheer filth of it makes your head spin—Chan, just outside the door, knowing exactly why it won’t budge, knowing exactly what’s happening inches away from him.

“I’ll… uh, I’ll need some… some parts,” Chan suddenly says, voice a little too forced, a little too high-strung.

Jeongin grins. “Parts?” he mouths mockingly against your cheek, pressing a slow, indulgent kiss there before rutting forward again—just once. Deep. Cruel.

Chan clears his throat. “Yeah. To fix it. Definitely need parts.”

You nearly sob, biting down harder on your knuckles.

“Parts?” Changbin repeats flatly. “Dude, what are you talking about?”

Chan steps back. “Just—just leave it alone.” His voice is tight. Fast. “I’ll fix it later.”

Then the sound of a door slamming down the hall.

And Jeongin?

Jeongin fucking laughs.

“You liked that,” he murmurs, pressing kisses down your spine. “Didn’t you?”

He rolls his hips again, and you whimper, shuddering.

“Being stuffed full like this, while someone else was right there—” Another thrust. Deeper. “While Chan was right there.”

You’re already too far gone to deny it, voice breaking around the moan that finally slips free.

Jeongin grins against your skin.

[nitadllyss]

The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

----------------------------

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

----------------------------

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

[boyfiechan]

[Random texts collection #2] Husband!Chan