#and then stray kids...
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nettlestingsoup · 2 years ago
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my voice is going to take several days to recover from musicbank i think. that is actually not stray kids' fault, but mamamoo's and enhypen's. i lost the upper range of my voice LONG before stray kids came on.
also i have an nmixx bias now.
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ianto-j0nes · 4 months ago
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I love that Logan is confused at first then he starts trying to tell the weather??? baby boy is so used to Wade’s shenanigans (podcast | bachelorette) he just goes with it now
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o6frog · 6 months ago
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stray kids pride ᯓ★
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faunandfloraas · 3 months ago
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minhosblr · 3 months ago
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D U D E !
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hyunpic · 2 months ago
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fluffjin..
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dreaming-medium · 2 months ago
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Language Barrier
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Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader
Word Count: 7K
Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers
Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.
———
A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.
‘How are you?’ - English
‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean
—————————————————————————
Luck was not on your side today.
It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.
Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.
Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.
Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.
“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”
You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.
It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!
Where is it? Where is it?
There!
You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.
A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.
The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.
It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.
Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.
After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.
Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.
Is that a 6 or an 8?
Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–
There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.
You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.
His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.
“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.
The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.
You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.
The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.
Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?
Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.
Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.
There’s a beat.
You try again, really putting your back into it this time.
“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.
“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”
You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”
The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”
You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.
Another series of blinks are exchanged.
“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.
You nod. “No… no Korean.”
A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.
“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.
“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.
“No.”
Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.
“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.
The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.
Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?
After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.
“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.
“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”
“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.
A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.
Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.
If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.
He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.
But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.
The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.
“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.
Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”
“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.
You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.
All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.
Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”
Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.
The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.
Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.
He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.
“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.
“A car accident?”
He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.
“Car accident,” he says in Korean.
“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.
Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.
“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.
Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.
The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.
You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.
The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.
He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!
Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.
The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.
After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.
‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.
The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.
“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.
“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.
Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.
‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’
Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.
‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’
A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.
‘Try learning Korean.’
Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.
‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’
Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”
He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.
‘You don’t have an umbrella.’
Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.
But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.
You type a message back to Minho.
‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’
He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.
“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.
Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.
Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.
You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”
A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?
No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.
Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.
Back to the app.
The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.
‘What do you do for work?’
‘What do you do for work?’
Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.
So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.
‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’
Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.
‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’
A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.
‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’
Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.
Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.
He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.
Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.
You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.
Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.
‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’
His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.
“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.
“You are welcome,” he answers in English.
His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.
After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.
‘Your turn. What do you do?’
Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.
His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.
You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.
He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?
Eventually, he turns the phone around.
‘I’m an idol.’
“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”
Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”
The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.
You type in your phone.
‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’
With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.
‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’
Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’
“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.
‘When do you go back to America?’
‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’
A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.
You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.
‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’
Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.
‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’
Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.
‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’
Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.
‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’
‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’
Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.
Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.
Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.
Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.
It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.
The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.
In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.
You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.
“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.
Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.
A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.
“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.
Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.
“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.
An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.
Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.
A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.
“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”
He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.
“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.
“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?
A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”
“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.
Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.
He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.
“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”
“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.
“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”
“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”
A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.
“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.
“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.
Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”
A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.
Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.
He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.
Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.
Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.
Is this really happening?
A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.
He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–
He’s shrugging off his hoodie.
Oh, he thinks you're cold.
Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.
Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.
It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.
Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.
“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.
How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.
“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.
Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.
There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.
It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.
‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’
Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.
‘I’m usually not.’
You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.
‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’
The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.
You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.
A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.
Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.
You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.
There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.
Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,
“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.
Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.
But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.
How is this even possible?
You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.
Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.
Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.
His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.
Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.
Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.
Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.
The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.
He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.
His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.
A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.
Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.
Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.
Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.
His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.
Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.
The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.
“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”
All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.
“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.
More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.
Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.
His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.
“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”
Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”
His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.
There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.
Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.
Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.
Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.
His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.
Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.
Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.
Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.
Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.
In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.
Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.
“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.
“No,” he says firmly.
“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.
“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.
“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.
“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.
You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.
“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”
“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.
Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.
‘Can I please buy you a drink?’
A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.
“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”
He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.
With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.
“Come,” he says confidently.
“Lead way.”
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linolinoing · 19 days ago
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HYUNIBINI ♡ SKZ CODE EP. 61
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staykidss · 2 months ago
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Changbin couldn’t stop mixing them up 😭
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yangkitties · 2 months ago
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if i was your boyfriend... ✩ c.bc
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pairing: bang chan x gn!reader || word count: n/a genre: fluff, established relationship || warnings: reader gets called 'mom' once, slightly suggestive, lmk if i missed anything!! synopsis: pictures of boyfriend chan that skz + hannah send you (ib: @ddksoo) note: HAPPY BFS DAY AND BIRTHDAY TO THEE BANG CHAN THE LOML THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND!!! um no i will not be sappy here bc then i will cry but i hope you guys enjoy ;P
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©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost
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huiracha · 1 month ago
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dwaekkicidal · 2 months ago
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𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.
⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)
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♱ word count: 1.8k
♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’
sorta proofread
Kinktober Schedule
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”
“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.
“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.
“Thank-” “On one condition.” 
“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.
“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.
“I have something in mind…”
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“Open the fuck up.”
His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.
He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.
“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 
“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.
Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.
“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.
He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.
His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.
His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.
It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.
“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.
“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”
“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.
“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.
This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”
He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.
So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.
It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.
He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.
“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.
He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”
“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”
“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.
The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.
“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.
Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”
You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.
“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.
He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.
“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”
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Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
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@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess
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lookitsjess · 3 months ago
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The face card in question :
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Literally, SHUT UP.
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chanrizard · 1 month ago
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241019 | Melbourne
© skztopclass
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chlorinecake · 2 months ago
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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂
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▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader
▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it
▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2
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BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:
Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…
He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…
You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—
“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”
“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.
His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.
“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”
“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…
Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—
“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.
“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.
“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”
“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”
“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”
Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...
Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.
The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…
And he did.
“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.
“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.
“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—
“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…
“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”
“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.
“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…
Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.
“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…
“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.
“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”
He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.
Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.
“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.
“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.
His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…
At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.
“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.
“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”
“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…
“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.
“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.
You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…
However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.
And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:
You forgot to put your engagement ring on…
You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…
Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…
“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.
“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”
“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”
You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.
“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.
“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.
“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.
“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.
You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.
“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.
“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.
“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.
“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”
“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.
“Louder…”
“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…
He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.
The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.
“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.
“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.
He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.
“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.
“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.
“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—
“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.
He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.
“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”
All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.
Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.
“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.
“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”
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⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!
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