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hanquokka-mochimochicheeks · 3 days ago

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♪ Against the Keys ♫

(sub) Lee Know x (f) pianist reader Word count: 3.3k Genre: established relationship, one-shot, smut, music Summary: You've been dying to give your boyfriend (Lee Know) a blowjob for a while, unaware of how sensitive he is. Things soon escalate as you discover another side of him. warnings: oral (f. and m. receiving) ⋆ dom/sub dynamic ⋆ creampie ⋆ edging ⋆ multiple orgasms ⋆ marking ⋆ mild blood ⋆ sensory play ⋆ overstimulation ⋆ a/n: tried writing sub LK because I thought it'd be fun- anyway, I hope I did him justice ♡

~ ~ ~

It’s late in the afternoon and you and your boyfriend, Lee Know, are at home relaxing on one of your rare days off. Sunlight is pouring over your dining table, making it seem like the many sheets of music laid out on it are glowing. Despite having all the time in the world to play your beloved piano, you could never bring yourself to organise your sheet music. So after much procrastination, you finally got to work—making quite a mess in the process.

Folders, pencils and paper are scattered everywhere and only now, after two hours, were you realizing how long this would take you. As you continue filing pages of music you let your eyes wander to your boyfriend who’s been engrossed in a book all the while. His eyes are lost in the pages, completely unaware of your staring as he’s lazily leaning into an armchair, legs wide with his chin resting on one hand.

His tousled hair brushes against his eyelids, the outline of his muscles faintly visible beneath his loose t-shirt. His jaw tightens slightly as he scans the pages. Your heartbeat quickens as your gaze drifts lower to his crotch and your thoughts begin heading in another direction.

Lee Know was always the type to lead when the two of you were in bed. Of course this still meant he was respectful and made sure to only do things you enjoyed but that was most likely also the reason he had never asked you to suck him off. He wouldn’t want your cute mouth getting dirty while you used it to pleasure him.

Giving him a blowjob was something you’d been wanting to try for ages; you just couldn’t find it in you to tell him that.

Across the room, Lee Know has been stealing glances at you.

You’ve been at this for hours. Lee Know knows (hehehh) you’re not the type to be able to focus on boring tasks; but here you are, diligently sorting through stacks of music one by one and occasionally scribbling things.

Although he had been trying to begin the book his workmate, Chan, had recommended to him, he was barely past the first chapter. Each time he began reading, he would catch a glimpse of you and end up distracted by your expression instead; how it would change every so often. Nothing could entertain him more.

His eyes are glued to you as loose wisps of hair float around your face when you lean over the table, your glasses sliding down your nose a fraction. He loved seeing how when you managed to slide the papers into folder leaves, a small, barely visible proud smirk would appear on your lips. He couldn’t help but take in how gorgeous you were, even when you were simply in casual clothes, sitting down and lost in concentration.

“Ahh!”, you cried out in pain. Your focus vanished, and you accidentally let your finger slide against the edge of the paper. Wincing you watch a drop of blood form on the thin cut and try to ignore the stinging.

“Did you cut yourself?” Lee Know asks, his voice laced with concern. He sets his book down and sits up, his attention on you now.

“Come over here, let me see.”

Reluctantly, you go over to where he’s sitting on the armchair and let yourself plop onto his lap. He holds your waist in one arm and takes your injured hand in the other.

“You’re way too careless. Do I need to keep you wrapped in bubble wrap?”

His words are sharp and scolding but the way he’s gently holding you says otherwise. He lifts your hand to his mouth and locks his eyes with yours, making you look away in embarrassment.

He slowly licks away the blood and begins to lightly suck the cut.

“Wait-wait stop, it stings.” you complain, flinching as the tip of his tongue presses into the cut, pink creeping over your cheeks.

Lee Know loved it when you blushed; how it would show up on your cheeks as you look away to avoid eye contact. It’s the same now. Your face is flushed and turned from him.

Lee Know is aware you enjoy a little pain when he’s pleasuring you but you would never actually admit to it. You can never contain yourself when he tugs a little roughly on your nipples or slightly uses his teeth on your clit as he’s eating you out.

The blood in his mouth was metallic but somehow still tasted like you. To Lee, Know you were like an exquisite dessert- one he would spend hours savouring if you let him.

He releases your finger and you lean in to press your lips onto his. You pull away after a moment to lick the blood off your lip.

“Ew— why are you like this? That’s so unsanitary.” you sigh, ignoring the butterflies inside.

Lee Know smirks; the smirk that means he’s not done.

“But you liked it right? I felt your thighs rubbing together before.”

Oh no- he noticed? Blood rushes to your face; you’re dying to just melt into a puddle of shame. Surely now he must think you’re a freak who gets horny from getting their blood sucked. You cover your face as a useless attempt to hide your tomato face and go to lift yourself off of him.

Strong hands wrap around your waist and you fall back onto Lee Know helplessly. There was no way this man was ever going to let you give him a blowjob.

Lee Know is radiating joy as he hugs you tightly, overly happy with his discovery.

Even if he had won this time you weren’t going to give up this easily. You turn to face him and bring your legs over to straddle him.

“What do you want now, sweetheart?” he asks with a curious look.

You don’t answer and instead run your fingers over his dick through his sweatpants. He shivers in surprise, a smile playing on his lips.

Sliding off his lap, you slowly kneel down between his legs, worried he might push you away— your face now inches from his crotch.

Lee Know chuckles deeply, and there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice as he says, “I appreciate the thought but you don’t have to do all that for me. You know I’d rather take care of you, right?”

Ignoring his words you lift the waistband over the bulge that had formed. A small noise escapes his throat from the sudden friction against his tip—now it was Lee Know’s turn to blush.

“Shit— you’re really doing this, huh?”, the words tumble from his mouth.

The amount of pre-cum already leaking out takes you by surprise as you blow air onto the pink tip, delighted at the way it twitches. You gently hold the base and begin to kitten lick his long dick; the same dick that just last night had rearranged your insides, ruined you and cummed over every inch of your body.

The fact that he’s entirely at your mercy now is sending Lee Know over the edge. He grips onto the arm rests and his eyes flutter closed as you take him in your mouth completely.

"Shit—s-so warm—”

By this time his ears have changed to scarlet and he’s reaching down to place a hand on your head as if to stop you— but he simply doesn’t have any strength left. His mind is a mess as he lets you drink up every last bit of his self-control.

You’ve barely started but his breathing has become uneven and you can see the effect every little touch is having on him. You lightly scratch his inner thigh with your short nails and he trembles at the feeling. You just made your strong, calm and nonchalant boyfriend fucking tremble. You pause and look up at him in shock. His breathing is shaky, hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead and he’s drooling slightly as his glassy eyes meet yours. They’re unfocused and dilated. You’ve never seen him like this before

His cock is swelled and almost bursting and you realize he’s been doing his best not to cum this whole time.

Wrapping your hand around his warm dick, you lick around the tip.

“Cum for me, my cute kitten ~”, you teased almost sarcastically; never expecting to say those words out loud.

That was it for Lee Know.

"Ahh—fuck, I—I'm gonna—nghh!"

He cums mostly into your mouth as his head falls back and he continues to shudder. You swallow the hot liquid, licking your lips as it pours down your throat.

“You— you really just—”, he stammers, watching you swallow.

“It’s bitter”, you state, innocently staring up at him.

“Oh—uh, sorry? I guess?” he replies, still in a daze. He weakly reaches down to you in a way of silently asking to be held like the cat he is. Understanding this, you hug him and pat his head; feeling the shaking from his aftershocks gradually fade.

You stand up to get him some water but he tugs lightly on your sleeve. “…Just stay here— please”, he mumbles softly.

“I’ll come back after I get you some water, okay?”

He nods, his breathing evening out. He’s finally getting himself together.

You walk towards the kitchen, processing what just happened. He’s that sensitive?? You had never even imagined him making those sorts of expressions just from a blowjob.

You’re back beside Lee Know and you place the cool glass of water in his hands.

He glances over at the piano behind you. “Play for me," he asks, voice low and soft. "Wanna hear you."

You turn to the piano, fingers hovering over the keys. "Right now?"

He nods, shifting to get comfortable, his arm draped over his forehead. "Mhm. Feels nice when you play." His lips curve into a smile, eyes flickering to you. "I’ll just stay here and listen… ‘kay?"

You feel his gaze from behind as you settle onto the leather stool. Your fingers hover over the keys for a moment before you press down and a sweet melody begins to flow. You always like playing for Lee Know, you can tell he enjoys it too.

You’re so absorbed in the music, you don’t even notice when Lee Know comes up behind you until he wraps his arms around your waist and leans his head on your shoulder. You relax in his warmth and lean back into him as you continue playing.

You feel your concentration slipping as his hands travel to massage your breasts. His lips land on your neck and he delicately nibbles down the skin as he plants gentle kisses. It’s so unbearably soft and sweet. Your eyes fall closed for a second and your finger slips off a key, a wrong note interrupting the tune.

"Oh? That didn’t sound quite right." He hums, lips brushing your collarbone. "Is it me? Am I messing up my lovely pianist?"

“Shush— I’m a professional, this is nothing”, you mutter stubbornly.

He smirks, feeling his confidence return. “Ahh, so it was my fault then~”

You stop playing as Lee Know slides the stool away from the piano and you wobble backwards. Before you can say anything, he’s crouched beneath the stool, in between you and the piano.

He pushes your thighs apart and nuzzles his head at your core.

Massaging the flesh of the back of your thighs, he sucks at the skin just below the hem of your shorts making you flinch. He continues leaving light marks on your inner thighs before covering each one with a soft kiss.

"Don't lose focus now, sweetheart. I wanna hear every last note." he murmurs against your skin.

“Yes, yes, I know”, you say, trying not to push your hips further against his warmth.

The position you’re in is a bit uncomfortable as you’re on the edge of the seat but you’re determined to prove Lee Know wrong and play well anyway.

You let the music flow again trying not to let your mind wander as Lee Know presses his mouth onto your pussy through the thin material of your shorts.

He starts sucking— hard. Your fingers tense as you keep hitting the keys and you try not to let out a sound but it’s no use, your thighs are now squeezing around his head.

“Mm— keep playing for me sweetheart; it sounds heavenly.”

You don’t reply and regain your composure just enough to play from where you left off. It was too late to hide how good it felt; you were soaked through and Lee Know could already taste you through your shorts.

But this isn’t enough for Lee Know— he wants you crumbling and choking on his name.

A gasp leaves you as he slides the wet fabric to the side and licks directly on your cunt. The sounds of his tongue against your slick pussy are so dirty and feel out of place paired with the calm classical music you’re messily playing.

"Fuck…you taste so sweet baby"

His tongue slips inside and moves around as he tastes every part of you. “Ah?—m-mmh”, you shiver, the sensation catching you off guard. He uses his thumb to slowly rub your clit and you’re on the verge of losing it.

Your fingers that have been on auto-pilot stop moving when Lee Know suddenly breaks apart from you.

“Huh? What— I was just about to…”, you trail off.

“I don’t know what you mean. I thought I’d enjoy your playing for a moment— it’s a shame you stopped.”

Staring back at the music, your eyes watering, you obediently play again— this time more spiteful and annoyed. You hadn’t even asked for this to happen and now you had to actually earn it too.

Lee Know leans back in to continue devouring you, but pauses, admiring the way you’re dripping, begging to be touched.

He slides his fingers in, and you feel the cool metal of his couple’s ring he’s wearing rubbing your entrance as he moves in and out of you. You got the rings together in New Zealand; it’s smooth and silver coloured with your initials engraved on the inner side. When you bought it, you certainly didn’t expect it to go through all this.

Lee Know’s sucking on your clit now, his tongue grinding into the bundle of nerves and your brain is turning to mush. You’re torn between concentrating on your hands and utterly giving in and fucking his pretty face.

Your playing has been speeding up; desperately chasing both your high and the end of the piece. Your whole body’s twitching, and you can barely think as you reach the final chord, his fingers fucking deeper now and his nails digging in your skin.

"Aaah fuck, Lee Know—I can’t—I-I’m gonna—!"

The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching and eyes rolling back as your hands collapse onto the piano causing a smash of notes to play as you’re swept up by it.

Lee Know only slows down when you’re squirming, hand tangled in his hair, trying to pull him away. Your thighs haven’t stopped twitching, so he gently massages them, caressing the hickeys and bruises in the process. He looks as much of a mess as you do, if not more; your fluids are spread all over his chin, drool seeping out on his swollen lips, pupils blown wide and he’s catching his breath after practically suffocating himself. Most of all you notice how painfully hard he’s gotten.

The aftershocks are still hitting as you shift on the seat, wincing, but you are determined to get your revenge.

"You made me feel so good, baby… I wanna do the same for you."

You look down to see him better; he’s resting his head on the piano with his legs spread wide. His hips are lifting involuntarily like he’s begging for relief. The slight rub of his sweatpants against his cock makes him let out a low groan; he doesn’t want to admit it but he’s completely surrendered. He had lost all self-respect from the moment your soft thighs wrapped around his head.

“Whatever you want—hah—just… just tell me what to do”, his voice is soft and desperate.

Cupping his face, you say, "Awh— you look so pretty like this… think you can sit on the stool for me?"

The way he’s sweetly obeying your every word and staring up at you like nothing else matters is so different from his usual mischievous cat-like behaviour. It’s almost pathetic how utterly defenseless he is.

Lee Know makes himself comfortable on the stool, leaning on his hands behind him with his cock sprung out against his stomach. You settle yourself on his lap; his firm muscular thighs shaking as your butt makes contact with him.

As he reaches for your waist you say gently, “And from now on… No touching me, okay?”

Despite groaning at your words, he nods in response. You’re both so drenched you slip onto his cock easily, both of you moaning from the sudden friction.

“Hah—ah, y-you’re so… you’re so tight, I—", his voice stutters, eyes squeezing shut as his fingers grip onto the stool.

You start moving on top of him and you both know how embarrassingly close he is. “Mmh, you’re—fuck, you’re milking me, I—oh, gosh—" His head falls back, lips parted.

Then you stop—Just like he did before.

"W-wait—what? Why—?" His dazed eyes blink up at you, the satisfaction on your face saying everything. Lee Know’s flushed expression is a mixture of hurt and completely lost and you almost feel bad.

You smirk and slowly begin moving again, pleased at his reaction. Edging him might just be the best thing you’ve discovered in life so far.

"P-please, please let me touch you—"

You ride him faster and his breathing is becoming more ragged; he’s close.

You can’t help yourself— you lift off his dick.

"H-holy shit—no, don’t do this—please, I was—fuck, I was so close—!" His head falls back, pure agony on his face from having his orgasm stolen again. By now his dick is swollen, so close to spilling.

“Hah—please—please, I can’t—", his voice wobbles as his hips rut up into the air uselessly, biting his lip in distress.

“Baby, please—t-touch me—fuck, I—" His hands twitch like they want to grab you, but he stops himself, letting out a wrecked little whimper instead.

You slide onto his dick again and his head drops forward, forehead pressing against your shoulder, gasping, and you feel a drop against your skin.

You haven’t even started moving but he quietly begs, “C-can I cum? Please, please say I can—”

“Shh, I know. I can feel how close you are. It’s okay, you can fill me up."

You bounce on him again, this time taking him deeper. Lee Know’s breath stutters, little moans come from his throat and his eyebrows knit together like he’s in pain. The tear stain on his cheek glistening as he throws his head back.

"I-it’s too good—too fucking good—hnnngh—I’m gonna—"

He’s interrupted by his orgasm hitting him like a train. The hot liquid is shooting into you and you shudder; still relentlessly riding him through his high. He’s shaking hard as his cum overflows and leaks out at where you’re connected.

You gaze at Lee Know melting in pleasure beneath you, more fucked out than ever and looking like he’s just seen heaven.

He’s broken; you broke him, and you loved every second of it.

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aeliuss · 2 days ago

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Numb to the Feeling

MDNI, 18+ content.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Heard you got a heart, let me see/I need you to split that thing with me

featuring: ex!boyfriend changbin x afab reader, rebound!jisung, bestfriend!seungmin

genre: smut with plot

notes: part two of skzxchase atlantic songs! this one is inspired by numb to the feeling but i think i kinda strayed from it a little whoops.

warnings: toxic relationship. semi-public sex. illegal drug use, alcohol use. self destructive behavior. i am in no way condoning or romanticizing any of these actions, it's just a work of fiction. DO NOT TAKE DRUGS. if you, or any of your loved ones suffer with addiction please click here.

The party hums around you, all blurred lights and slurred voices, but it barely reaches you. The Xanax pulls everything under, softens the edges, turns the noise into something distant and unimportant.

You’re draped across Jisung, legs tangled with his on the couch, the warmth of his body pressed into your side. He’s talking—he’s always talking—words spilling from his lips in a bright, endless stream of whatever thought crosses his mind.

You only catch pieces of it.

“—and then Minho was like, ‘Jisung, if you break another controller, I’m kicking you out,’ but obviously, it wasn’t my fault—”

His voice rises and falls, full of animated gestures, his hands moving as if he can’t contain all the energy buzzing under his skin. He’s grinning, dimples carving deep into his cheeks, eyes crinkling with laughter even though you barely said anything at all.

Jisung is easy.

He makes things easy.

He doesn’t ask why your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes or why your fingers feel too light against his wrist, like you’re not really there. He just lets you exist beside him, lets you slip into the warmth of his presence without asking for anything in return.

Except, you think, maybe he does.

His fingers brush over your bare thigh absentmindedly, featherlight, like he’s testing the weight of his touch. His knee nudges yours, lingers. His laughter softens as he looks at you, eyes tracing the shape of your face like he’s memorizing it.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs suddenly, and it’s so gentle, so earnest, that it makes something twist in your chest.

You exhale slowly, letting your head tip against the couch, letting the drug drag you further down.

“Don’t say things like that,” you murmur, voice lilting, almost lazy.

Jisung pouts. “Why not? It’s true.”

You don’t answer.

Because if you do, he might say something softer. He might tilt his head and ask what’s wrong. He might lace his fingers through yours and tell you he’s not going anywhere, that he’d stay if you let him, that he could be everything for you.

And you don’t want to hear it.

You slip your fingers through his instead, squeezing lightly, just enough to make him smile again. Just enough to keep him where you need him—right here, right now, filling the silence with something easy, something warm.

Even if it doesn’t reach you.

Jisung brightens at the small squeeze of your fingers, his grin widening, his body shifting just a little closer, like he thinks you want him to.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you don’t.

It doesn’t really matter.

“I knew you liked me,” he teases, dimples deep, voice curling around the words like he’s savoring them. “You act all cool and mysterious, but I see right through you.”

His knee nudges yours again, deliberate this time, playful. He’s watching you closely, waiting for your reaction.

You hum, noncommittal, tilting your head against the couch. The room is tilting with you, slow and syrup-thick.

Jisung sighs, dramatic. “God, you’re so gone, aren’t you?”

You smile, barely. “And you’re so loud.”

He gasps, clutching at his chest. “Wow. Hurtful. Do you even like me?”

The joke hangs between you, warm and harmless. But for a second—just a second—you think you see something else in his expression, something softer, something real.

It makes your stomach turn.

You untangle your legs from his, shifting, suddenly restless. The warmth of him is too much now, his presence pressing in, his affection curling around you like a weighted blanket, thick and suffocating.

“I need a drink,” you mumble, already pushing yourself up.

Jisung blinks, startled by the sudden movement, but he recovers fast. “Want me to come with?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say no without giving something away.

“Stay,” you murmur instead, resting a hand on his shoulder for just a second, just enough to keep the moment easy, to keep him from seeing the way your pulse has picked up, the way something in your chest is starting to ache.

Jisung watches you go, his smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth, but something else flickers in his eyes.

And then you step into the crowd, and the weight of him disappears.

Only to be replaced by something heavier.

By someone else.

The kitchen is dimly lit, the overhead bulb flickering weakly against the haze of smoke curling through the air. The counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, sticky red cups, crumpled napkins. Someone leans against the fridge, laughing too loudly, and the bass of the music rattles against your ribs.

You press through the bodies, fingers trailing absently over the countertop, reaching for the nearest bottle of something dark, something bitter. It doesn’t really matter what.

The glass is cool against your palm, grounding, and you tip it back without thinking, the burn slicing through the fog of the Xanax for just a moment—just long enough for you to feel it.

And then, before you can put the bottle down, before you can exhale, there’s a shift in the air.

A shadow at your side. A presence curling close.

Familiar.

Unshakable.

“Drinking on top of that shit?”

The voice is low, rough, curling at the edges like smoke, like something burned out and smoldering.

Your stomach tightens.

Slowly, you lower the bottle, fingers tightening around the glass, resisting the instinct to turn around.

But he doesn’t wait for you to.

Changbin moves in first, stepping into your space like he belongs there, like he always has. The heat of him presses against your side, solid and steady, so different from the featherlight warmth of Jisung, so much heavier.

His eyes flicker down, tracking the movement of your throat as you swallow, as if he can see the way the liquor settles in your bloodstream, mixing with everything else.

“You know that’s a bad idea, right?”

You finally turn to face him.

And for the first time tonight, the numbness wavers.

The bottle is slipping in your hand, condensation slick against your palm, but you don’t move to fix it. Not when he’s this close. Not when the air between you is thick with everything you haven’t said.

Changbin looks at you like he knows you. Like he always has.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

His gaze flickers, slow—over the shape of your mouth, the exposed line of your throat, the slight unsteadiness in your fingers. He catches the way your eyes look past him, darting to the kitchen doorway–your escape. His jaw tightens, just barely.

“You gonna run again?” His voice is low, rough. Almost tired.

Your stomach twists.

You lift your chin, forcing a smile. “I’m not running.”

His expression doesn’t change, but something about him does—something in the way his fingers flex against the counter, like he wants to reach for you, like he almost does.

Then, quieter—like he doesn’t even mean to say it:

“Feels like you always are.”

Your throat goes tight.

He exhales, slow. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, like he’s thinking—like he’s trying to find the right words, but when his gaze finds yours again, there’s nothing hesitant about it.

"You left Jisung sitting there waiting for you."

You already see it—Jisung, knee bouncing, fingers twisting at a loose thread in his jeans, his smile still there but smaller now. Waiting. Hoping. Something small twists in your chest, but you shove it down, down, down where you always do. “He’ll be fine.”

Changbin huffs a breath, shaking his head. “Cold.”

But there’s no bite to it. No real judgment. Just something heavier. Something aching.

Like he’s used to it.

Like he still hasn’t let himself stop caring.

The realization makes your fingers tighten around the bottle. You don’t want that from him. You don’t want that kind of tenderness, that kind of understanding.

You want him to let you go.

You need him to let you go.

Because you don’t know how to let go of him.

“You don’t have to do this,” you murmur, voice quieter now. “Check in on me. Worry about me.”

His jaw clenches. His throat works around a swallow.

Then, softly—almost fragile in the way he says it:

“I don’t know how to stop.”

The air thickens.

Your pulse pounds—a slow, aching thud, deep in your ribs.

Changbin shifts closer, breath warm as it ghosts over your cheek, his fingers brushing yours—just barely, just enough to feel it, just enough to make your body ache with how easy it would be to grab hold and never let go.

“I don’t fucking know how to stop.”

Your breath catches.

Because he says it like it hurts. Like it’s killing him. Like he’s spent every second since you walked away trying to carve you out of himself and failing, failing, failing.

Your fingers twitch around the bottle, unsteady, your body drawn toward him in a way that feels inevitable, inescapable. Like gravity. Like a force you have no power against.

And maybe you don’t.

Maybe you never did.

Your pulse is a drumbeat, a frantic, erratic rhythm against your ribs. The taste of whiskey lingers on your tongue, warm and burning, but Changbin’s closer now, and he smells like something heavier, something richer. Like leather and smoke and something achingly familiar.

Something you used to call home.

You should say something. You should step back. You should turn and walk away before this goes too far—before you do something reckless, something irreversible.

But then his fingers ghost over yours again, just barely, and that’s all it takes.

You turn at the same time he does, and your mouths crash together.

It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s teeth and tongues and desperation, the kind of kiss that tastes like regret and whiskey and everything you can’t say. His hands find your hips, gripping, dragging you against him like he needs to feel every inch of you, like he needs to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re here, that you still fit against him the way you always have.

You whimper into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the heat of him, by the way his fingers dig into your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. But you’re not going anywhere. Not this time. Not when the world is tilting and you can’t tell where you end and he begins.

The party is still raging around you, but it barely registers. The music, the voices, the bodies moving in the dim haze of the kitchen—all of it fades, slipping into the background, because the only thing that matters is this. Him. The way he groans when you fist your fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s nothing between you.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, breathless. His forehead presses against yours, his hands trembling where they clutch at your hips. “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t.

You drag him with you instead, stumbling through the crowd, through the hallway, through the door of the first empty room you can find.

And then you’re on him again, or maybe he’s on you, and it doesn’t matter, because you’re both starving. Because his mouth is on your throat, sucking, biting, marking. Because your hands are shoving under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles flex under your touch.

Because this is what you know.

This is where you both fall apart.

The door slams shut behind you, rattling in its frame, but neither of you care. Not when your back hits the wall, not when Changbin’s hands are everywhere—your waist, your thighs, your jaw, tilting your head just the way he wants.

“God,” he breathes, voice rough, half-wrecked already. “I fucking—”

He cuts himself off with a kiss, like he’s trying to swallow the words before they slip, before they make this more than just a mistake in the dark. But you feel it anyway, in the way his hands shake, in the way his teeth scrape over your bottom lip like he wants to ruin you, like he wants to remind you that no one else can have you like this.

His hands slide up your thighs, gripping, lifting—he doesn’t even have to tell you to wrap your legs around his waist because you already are, already gasping into his mouth when he presses you harder against the wall, the thick weight of him slotting perfectly between your thighs.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he groans at the sting, at the way your hips roll against his, desperate, searching. You should say something sharp, something cutting, something to break the tension curling thick in the air, but you can’t. You don’t have the breath.

Not when he’s grinding against you like that. Not when his hands are shoving up your dress, fingers skimming over bare skin, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Tell me you missed me,” he groans, voice raw, rough, breaking just slightly at the edges. “Tell me you—”

You cut him off with your mouth, biting at his lower lip, dragging him closer, closer, like you can stop him from asking things you don’t want to answer.

His fingers slip between your thighs, pressing against the damp heat of your underwear, and he groans, head falling forward against your shoulder.

Your head tips back against the wall, lips parting on a soft, needy sound as he rubs slow, teasing circles over the fabric, dragging out your desperation.

“Been fucking him?” he murmurs, lips brushing the curve of your jaw, his fingers still torturously light between your legs. “Jisung?”

Your breath hitches.

Your body jolts with it, that name, the way Changbin spits it like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging. “Don’t.”

He laughs, rough and bitter, and presses his fingers harder against you, two thick digits pressing firm over the damp lace. You gasp, nails sinking into his shoulders, but he’s relentless, rolling his wrist in slow, torturous circles, like he’s trying to coax the answer out of you with his hands alone.

“Don’t?” he echoes, dragging his mouth down your throat, sucking a mark into your skin like he needs to brand himself into you. “Don’t what? Don’t ask?”

He bites, sharp enough to make you whimper, sharp enough that your back arches away from the wall. He catches you easily, pressing you back down with the weight of his body alone, keeping you right where he wants you—between him and something solid, nowhere to run.

“Don’t bring him into this,” you breathe, but it’s weak, and you both know it.

Changbin stills for half a second, his breath heavy against your skin. Then, he drags his fingers down, down, pushing your panties aside, running a slow, teasing stroke through your folds. You shudder.

His voice is quieter now. Darker. “What? You got a heart now?”

His words sink deep, curling low in your stomach, hot and aching. You want to shove him away. You want to pull him closer. You want to say something sharp, something to cut as deep as he does, but all that comes out is a broken little sound as he presses two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, stretching you open with that same brutal patience he always has when he wants to make you come undone.

Your nails scrape down his back, desperate, and he groans, rocking his hips into yours like he can’t help himself, like this is torture for him too.

"Feels like you missed me," he murmurs against your skin, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body jolt.

You clench around him, thighs tightening around his waist, and he laughs—low and wrecked, like he’s just as far gone as you are.

"I—" Your voice catches, breaks. Your body is betraying you, rocking into every stroke, every roll of his wrist, every dirty, possessive press of his lips against your throat. "I hate you."

Changbin groans, shoving his fingers deeper, his thumb dragging slick circles over your clit. "Liar."

And maybe you are.

Your head tips back against the wall with a soft thud, breath coming in short, uneven gasps as his fingers work you open, unrelenting, knowing.

Maybe you are a liar. Maybe you have a heart. Maybe it only beats like this—frantic, desperate—when he’s the one touching you, when he’s the one tearing you apart like you belong to him.

Your hands slide up his arms, nails biting into the thick muscle of his biceps as he fucks you open on his fingers, slow but deliberate, every movement dripping with something you don’t want to name.

"You still thinking about him?" His voice is lower now, rougher, like it’s costing him something to ask. His mouth is hot against your jaw, his teeth scraping the skin. "Still thinking about Jisung while you’re dripping all over my fucking hand?"

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Your throat is too tight, your breath too ragged, your body too wound up and strung out on the way his fingers fuck into you—slow, deliberate, merciless.

But silence is still an answer.

Changbin’s jaw clenches. You feel it against your throat, where his lips had been, where his teeth had pressed down like a warning, a brand. He hates this. Hates that he even had to ask. Hates that somewhere, in the dark, rotten part of him that only ever comes out when it’s about you, he actually wonders.

His fingers don’t stop—not yet.

Maybe they should. Maybe he should pull away and let you feel the loss of him, let you suffer for making him doubt even for a second, for breaking up with him after three years–three fucking years. But he’s weak when it comes to you, and you’re so fucking wet, so tight around his fingers, and he’s too far gone to punish himself like that.

Instead, he curls his fingers deeper, watches your mouth fall open, watches your body betray you.

His fingers drive into you harder, rough and unrelenting, dragging slick sounds from between your thighs, forcing them out of you like a confession. Your hips jerk against his hand, desperate for more, but he keeps the pace steady, keeps you on the edge without letting you tip over.

Your hands clutch at him, curling into the fabric of his shirt, but he doesn’t care. He’s too caught up in the way you look like this—ruined and helpless, completely at his mercy.

"Shouldn't even be touching you," he says, voice rough with something that sounds like self-hatred. "Shouldn’t even fucking want to."

But he does.

God, he does.

It's in the way his fingers keep working inside you, curling, pressing, dragging you open like he never stopped knowing you, like he never stopped wanting you. It’s in the way his free hand grips your waist too tight, fingertips pressing bruises into your skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers again.

Your breath stutters, thighs shaking around his hips, and he wants to tell you to stop looking at him like that—like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered, like he’s the only one who can break you apart like this.

But he can’t. Can’t.

So he does the only thing he can—he keeps pushing you higher, making you take everything he gives, even when he knows he shouldn’t.

"You don't even deserve this," he mutters against your jaw, voice thick, rough. "You don’t deserve me."

You don’t.

You know that.

But it doesn’t stop your body from clenching down around his fingers, doesn’t stop your hands from grabbing at him like he’s something solid in the wreckage. Doesn’t stop the pathetic, needy sound that slips from your throat when he presses his palm against your clit, dragging slick, messy circles over the swollen bud.

Changbin swears, low and ragged, his forehead pressing into yours like he can’t bear to look at you but can’t bring himself to pull away either. His breath is hot, uneven, his body taut with something thick and aching.

"You’re so fucking spoiled," he mutters, words a breath against your lips, so close you could kiss him if you weren’t falling apart around his hand. "Always taking from me. Always coming back like I’ll just give you whatever you want."

You should say something back—something sharp, something to cut as deep as he does. But you can’t.

Not when he’s pressing into you like that.

Not when his fingers stroke over that spot inside you with cruel precision, not when the rough grind of his palm is sending sparks shooting down your spine.

Not when you’re this fucking close.

Your nails bite into his shoulders, hips rolling into every thrust of his hand, breath coming in short, stuttered gasps.

He watches you, watches the way your body tightens, the way your mouth falls open, the way your eyes squeeze shut like you can’t handle looking at him while he tears you apart.

His jaw clenches.

"Look at me," he orders, voice dark, ruined.

You force your eyes open—just barely, just enough to see the heat burning behind his own, just enough to see the way his lips part when he watches you come undone for him.

His fingers don’t stop.

"That’s it," he breathes, pressing his forehead harder against yours, dragging you over the edge. "Give it to me."

Your body locks up as the orgasm rips through you—hot, all-consuming, the kind that leaves you shaking apart in his arms. A choked cry breaks from your throat, swallowed up by Changbin’s mouth as he presses against you, breathing you in like he can’t get enough.

His fingers don’t stop. Not yet.

He works you through it, dragging out every last shudder, every last pulse around his fingers, keeping you right on that high until it’s too much—until your body jerks in his hold, oversensitive, teetering on the edge of pain. Only then does he slow, only then does he pull his fingers from you, slick and glistening.

Your legs threaten to give out, and he catches you, a steadying hand braced against your waist. It’s unfair, how stable he still is, how composed, while you feel like a live wire, nerves fried and body still trembling.

Changbin lifts his fingers to his lips, dragging his tongue over them with a slow, deliberate flick. His eyes don’t leave yours, even as he groans low in his throat. “Still taste the same,” he murmurs, like it’s a fucking confession.

Your breath catches, shame curling beneath your ribs, but it doesn’t stop the way your body reacts—the way heat surges back to life in your belly, the way your thighs twitch at the sight of him.

He knows. Of course he knows.

His free hand slides up your side, fingers dragging over the fabric of your dress, before fisting it tight, pulling you back against him. He’s still hard, straining against his jeans, thick and unyielding where he presses between your legs.

Changbin's grip on your dress tightens, his knuckles white with restraint, but there's no stopping the way his hips push into you, grinding against the soaked heat between your thighs like he's trying to brand himself into you all over again.

"You think he’ll fuck you like this?" he mutters, voice low, rough, almost dangerous. "Think he’ll touch you like I do?"

Your breath stutters, nails biting into his shoulders, but you refuse to give him the answer he wants. He doesn't need to hear it. He already knows.

Because no one has ever touched you like Changbin does. No one ever will.

He fists the back of your hair, yanking your head back, forcing your eyes on him, forcing you to see the wreckage on his face—the fury, the desperation, the way his lips part like he's on the verge of saying something he shouldn't. But instead, all he does is groan, low and wrecked, before he crushes his mouth against yours, biting, demanding, tearing you apart like he wants to devour you whole.

His hands are rough, bruising as he grabs at you, pushing your dress higher, higher—until his fingers hook into your panties and tear them clean off with a sharp, impatient tug. You barely have a second to react before he's undoing his jeans, his breath hot against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours like he's trying to hold himself together.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice dark, ruined. His hands are on your thighs, spreading you open, positioning you exactly where he wants. "Tell me, and I will."

You don’t.

And he was never strong enough to resist you.

He groans your name like a curse, like a plea, and then he's pushing into you, thick and unrelenting, stretching you open with a slow, brutal force that has your fingers clawing at his back, your breath shattering into nothing.

His body shudders against yours, every muscle tensed like he's barely holding himself back, like the control is slipping from his fingers with every inch he buries inside you.

Changbin groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through his chest, through yours, sinking into the heat pooling low in your stomach. His fingers dig into your thighs, strong and unyielding as he presses you harder against the wall, his body slotting against yours like you were made to fit together.

His cock stretches you open inch by inch, slow but deliberate, forcing you to feel everything—the way he throbs, the way he holds himself back just enough to savor the way your body takes him in. Your breath stutters, nails biting into his shoulders as he sinks deeper, as pleasure licks up your spine like fire.

"Fuck," he breathes, voice strained, forehead pressing to yours. His fingers flex at your hips, gripping tighter, grounding himself in the way you tremble around him. "You feel—" He swears again, words failing him, swallowed up by the heat between you.

His hips roll forward, pushing the last of the way in, seating himself deep, and your head tilts back, lips parting in a gasp. He catches it with his mouth, kisses you hard and messy, like he’s trying to keep you tethered to him, to this moment.

His control is slipping—you can feel it.

In the way his hands roam your body like he’s trying to memorize it all over again. In the way his hips twitch forward, just barely restrained. In the way his breath shakes, uneven, as he presses his forehead to your shoulder, jaw clenched so tight it looks like it hurts.

"You’re gonna ruin me," he mutters, voice rough, wrecked, like he hates how much he means it.

And then he moves.

The first thrust has you arching into him, legs locking around his waist, a broken sound slipping from your lips. The second has him groaning, deep and low, his hands dragging up your back, holding you tighter, closer, like he can’t stand the thought of even an inch of space between you.

There’s nothing slow about it now.

It’s desperate, all-consuming—the way his hips snap against yours, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps between curses, the way he needs you, like nothing else exists beyond this moment, beyond the way you feel wrapped around him, taking everything he gives you.

Your nails rake down his back, dragging red-hot lines over sweat-slick skin, and the way he shudders against you sends a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs. He’s buried so deep, fucking into you with a fervor that borders on reckless, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets up even a little.

“Shit—” The word punches out of him when you tighten around him, legs squeezing at his waist, urging him closer, harder, deeper. His hands slip under your thighs, hiking them higher, angling you just right—until the next snap of his hips has your breath catching, your vision blurring.

The rhythm turns brutal.

Each thrust slams you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs, but it’s not enough—not when the pleasure surges higher, tightening, coiling, threatening to spill over with every roll of his hips.

He’s losing himself in it, in you.

The growl that rumbles from his chest is almost primal as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, teeth scraping along sensitive skin. His breath is hot, ragged, desperate, and when his tongue flicks over the mark he’s just left, his pace stutters—just for a second—before he’s slamming back in, deeper, rougher.

His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your hips like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, like he’s barely holding on. Each thrust is punishing, his pace relentless, dragging cries from your lips that he swallows with another bruising kiss.

“Fuck—” His voice is wrecked, strained, like he’s unraveling with every squeeze, every pulse of your body around him. His hands slide up, palms flattening against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in as he fucks into you like he has no intention of stopping—like he can’t stop. Every drag of his cock against your walls, every snap of his hips, sends sparks of pleasure searing through you, building, coiling tighter, tighter—

“Binnie—” you gasp, fingers twisting in his damp hair, pulling him even closer, until there’s nothing between you but heat and need and the overwhelming sensation of him.

Changbin shudders at the way you say his name—broken, breathless, wrecked. He’s always loved the way you sound when he’s inside you, the way you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. But this time, there’s something else—something raw, something he doesn’t want to name.

He’s fucking you too hard, too deep, but he can’t stop. Won’t stop. Not when you keep pulling him in, meeting every thrust, making those breathy little noises that go straight to his head.

“Say it again,” he growls, his lips dragging over your jaw, over your throat, sucking another mark into your skin like he has something to prove. “Say my fucking name.”

Your fingers twist tighter in his hair, your body arching against his as he pounds into you, reckless, relentless. His hips stutter for half a second when you tighten around him, when your legs squeeze at his waist like you’re trying to trap him inside you.

“Changbin,” you moan again, and his restraint snaps.

He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head against the wall with one hand, his other arm curling around your waist, keeping you right where he wants you. A deep groan rumbles in his chest as he fucks into you harder, faster, his control slipping away with every slick, desperate sound you make.

The bass outside is still pulsing, laughter threading through the walls like distant echoes, but here, in this dim-lit space, it’s just the two of you. The heat of it still lingers—his breath against your skin, his hands that had held you up like you were something holy, something to be worshiped.

Now, he’s unraveling.

Changbin’s forehead nearly brushes yours, his hands braced against the wall on either side of you, like he’s still trying to keep you here, keep you his. There’s sweat at his temples, his breath still uneven as he lifts trembling fingers to your cheek—hesitant, searching.

"You okay?" His voice is hoarse, raw from how he had moaned your name minutes ago.

Your lips part, but the words don’t come right away. Because no—you’re not okay. You are cracked porcelain, filled to the brim with something you don’t want to name. But admitting that would mean admitting something deeper, something messier, something that tastes too much like regret.

So instead, you let your face turn away from his touch.

“I’m fine.” The words are clipped, distant. They taste like steel on your tongue.

His fingers twitch, then fall away.

The shift in the air is immediate. A thread snapping, a wound reopening, the ghost of something unsaid rising between you.

You push at his chest, the space between you stretching like a chasm. Your dress, still pushed up from where he had taken you against the wall, falls back into place as you smooth trembling hands over the fabric, as if that could erase what just happened.

As if it could erase him.

"Don't do that," he says, voice quieter now.

"Do what?"

"That." His hand gestures between you—this distance you’ve forced, this void where warmth used to be. His voice is paper-thin, fraying at the edges. "Act like this was nothing."

You exhale sharply through your nose, willing your hands to stop shaking. "It doesn’t have to be something, Changbin."

His jaw clenches. "You don’t mean that."

You do. You have to. If you don’t, then you’ll have to face the way he looked at you when he fell apart in your arms, the way his fingers had gripped you like you were something fragile, something worth holding on to.

"You got what you wanted, didn’t you?" The words slip out before you can stop them, sharp as glass, crueler than you intended.

The flicker in his eyes is immediate. Hurt, stark and unfiltered.

"Are you fucking serious?" His voice is hoarse, disbelief laced into every syllable.

He stares at you like he doesn’t recognize you, like the version of you that had just clung to him, breathless and wanting, had been nothing more than a ghost.

Your stomach twists, nausea curling at the edges of your ribs, but you keep your chin high, arms crossed tight over your chest, locking the warmth of his touch out, locking yourself in.

"It was just sex," you say, and it feels like something cruel, something vile.

Changbin blinks, breath hitching for a second, like the words landed somewhere deep, somewhere they weren’t supposed to go. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, dragging a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"Just sex," he repeats, hollow, like he’s testing the words in his own mouth. Then he laughs, but it’s sharp, bitter. "Right. Okay."

He shakes his head, stepping back, and you feel the loss of him immediately, like the world is suddenly too big, too cold. "I don’t fucking get you," he mutters, rubbing a palm over his face before his gaze snaps back to you, dark, wounded. "I mean, you—you wanted this. You wanted me. But now you’re acting like it didn’t mean shit."

"Because it didn’t," you lie, the words leaving a burn in your throat.

His jaw clenches, something desperate flickering in his eyes, something frantic, like a man grasping at fraying rope.

"Don’t do that." His voice is quieter now, lower, like if he says it softly enough, you’ll take it back. "Don’t fucking lie to me."

You inhale sharply, nails digging into your arms. "I’m not."

His lips press into a thin line. He nods once, a quick, jerky motion. "Right," he breathes, his fingers curling into fists. "Then why the fuck did it feel different?"

"Changbin—"

"Tell me," he demands, stepping closer again, and it takes everything in you not to move back, not to let him see you crack. "Because I—I felt it. And I know you did, too."

You shake your head, swallowing past the lump in your throat. "You're overthinking it."

"Overthinking it?" He lets out a breath, something almost like a laugh, but it’s wrong, jagged. His hands go to his hips, his gaze burning into yours. "So what, we just go back out there like nothing happened? Like I didn’t just—like we didn’t just—"

"Yes." The word is sharp, final. You force yourself to meet his gaze, even as everything inside you is screaming. "That’s exactly what we do."

His breath leaves him in a rush.

For a moment, he just stares at you. And then, slowly, he shakes his head, biting down on his lower lip like he’s trying to keep something inside.

"You’re so fucking scared of feeling something real, aren’t you?" His voice is quieter now, but there’s something breaking inside it, something fragile and aching.

Your nails bite into your palms. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

His expression hardens. "Yeah, you do."

Silence swells between you, thick, suffocating. The kind that drowns. The kind that chokes.

Changbin exhales sharply through his nose, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. His fists are clenched so tight at his sides that his knuckles bloom white, like he’s physically holding himself back.

He scoffs, shaking his head again, slower this time, like he’s finally, finally getting it. "You know what? Fine," he mutters, his voice scraped raw. "You wanna pretend like this was just some—some meaningless fuck, then go ahead. Lie to me. Lie to yourself." He steps back another inch, and that loss, god, it burns. "But don’t you dare stand there and tell me it wasn’t real."

His voice cracks on the last word.

You should walk away.

You should turn around, push open the door, step back into the noise of the party, let the bass swallow you whole. You should do anything—anything—but stand here and let the weight of him, of what you’ve done, press into your ribs like something suffocating.

But you don’t move.

Because he’s right. And that terrifies you.

Instead, you cross your arms tighter, your nails biting into your skin. "What do you want me to say, Changbin?"

He breathes out a laugh, humorless, shaking his head again like he can’t believe you. "I want you to stop fucking running," he snaps. "I want you to tell me—tell yourself—the truth for once."

Your throat tightens. "The truth?" you echo, and your voice is a hollow thing, barely above a whisper. "The truth is that this was a mistake."

His face twists, something dark and wounded flickering through his expression like a storm about to break. His breath shudders in his chest, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing comes out.

A mistake.

You watch as the word sinks into him, as his shoulders go rigid, as something in his eyes dims like a flame being snuffed out. His throat bobs, his jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks like he wants to fight you on it. Like he wants to grab your face, shake you, force you to look at him, really look at him, and see what you’re doing.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he laughs. Low. Sharp. Bitter.

"Yeah?" His voice is hoarse, wrecked. "That what you tell yourself to make it easier?"

Your arms tighten around yourself. "It’s the truth," you say, though your voice isn’t as steady as you want it to be.

His lips part, then press into a thin line. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to fix this, but you don’t. You can’t.

So, he shakes his head, exhaling a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. "You really wanna do this again?" His gaze burns into you. "Act like you don’t care? Like this wasn’t anything? Like we weren’t—" He stops, swiping a hand down his face. His voice drops lower, rougher. "Fuck, I’m so tired of this."

Something cracks in your chest.

Because you know what he means. You’ve been here before, haven’t you? In this same suffocating space, standing across from him with words you don’t mean burning on your tongue. It’s been months, but nothing has changed.

You breathe in, steadying yourself. "This was different."

Changbin’s eyes snap to yours. "Different how?"

"It was just sex," you force yourself to repeat, the words feeling like barbed wire in your throat.

"Just sex," he repeats, hollow. His tongue presses into the inside of his cheek before he exhales sharply through his nose. "Right. Like it was just sex back then, too, huh?"

Your stomach turns to stone.

"That’s not—"

"Because I remember," he cuts in, his voice quiet but dangerous, "I remember the way you used to look at me. The way you used to hold me–"

Your hands curl into fists at your sides. "That was a long time ago, Changbin."

He laughs, shaking his head. "So what? It just stopped meaning something to you?" His voice is desperate now, raw with something you don’t want to name. "Because I’ve been trying—I’ve been trying so fucking hard to let this go, to let you go, but then you look at me like that, and —" He stops, his hands running through his hair, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. "How do you do it?" he asks, quieter now, almost like he’s talking to himself. "How do you just turn it off?"

You don’t answer.The silence that follows is sharp, razor-thin. He stares at you, something flickering behind his eyes—anger, heartbreak, disbelief.

The door creaks open.

The sound rips through the tension, shattering whatever was left between you.

Light spills into the room, along with the muffled bass of the party, and when you turn, you see them—a couple, drunken and laughing, stumbling inside, oblivious to the scene they’ve just walked into.

"Oh—shit, sorry," the guy says, blinking at the two of you. His girlfriend giggles, already tugging him back toward the door. "Didn’t know this room was taken."

You don’t think. You just move.

Before Changbin can say another word, before you can let yourself feel, you slip past him and out the door, into the noise, the heat, the blur of people who don’t know you, who don’t know what you just did, who don’t know what you’re still running from.

____________________________________________________________________________

The next morning comes like a slow, cruel punishment.

Your head is pounding—a dull, merciless throb behind your temples, the kind that makes the room spin when you try to move. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, your stomach twisted in a nauseating knot.

You groan, rolling onto your side, blinking against the dim light filtering through the curtains. The weight of last night sits on your chest, thick and suffocating, but it’s hazy—fragments of music, heat, Changbin’s voice tangled in yours.

And then… nothing.

Your brows knit together as you push yourself up, the effort making your stomach lurch. How the fuck did you even get home? You don’t remember leaving the party. Don’t remember changing into the oversized shirt draped over your frame.

Your hands fist in the fabric, fingers clumsy and trembling. Did you do this? Did someone else?

A flicker of panic stirs in your chest. Your heart rate spikes—until a voice, flat and unimpressed, cuts through the fog.

"You look like shit."

Seungmin is sitting in the chair by your desk, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest. He looks exactly the same as always—judgmental as fuck, like he’s been watching you for hours, waiting for you to wake up so he can lecture you.

Which, knowing him, is probably true.

A groan leaves your lips as you let your head fall back against the pillow. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"Not quite." He tilts his head. "Though I did save your ass last night, so you’re welcome."

Your stomach churns. "How did I—?"

"You called me. I brought you home," he says, like it’s obvious. Like it’s not something you should have already known.

Your fingers tighten around the blanket. "Did I—?"

"You barely made it up the stairs," Seungmin cuts in, voice cool. "You passed out the second you hit the bed. You were a mess. Barely conscious." A beat. "You took something, didn’t you?"

You shift under his gaze. "It wasn’t—"

"Don’t bullshit me." His tone isn’t sharp, but it doesn’t need to be. "Alcohol and what else?"

Your throat tightens. "Xanax."

He doesn’t react right away, just lets out a slow breath through his nose. Then, quietly, "Jesus Christ."

A beat of silence stretches between you, thick and heavy.

You exhale, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. "I don’t need a lecture."

Seungmin watches you, expression unreadable. “Do you even know how long you’ve been out?”

Your fingers curl into the sheets. Your body feels sluggish, your head thick with remnants of sleep. “A few hours?”

“Nineteen hours and thirty seven minutes.”

The number hangs in the air like a death sentence.

Nineteen hours.

The longest you’ve gone without a pill in—God, how long? Your stomach twists violently, your hands tightening around the fabric of the blanket. You feel it creeping up your spine—the craving, the panic, the itch under your skin that only ever gets worse.

You don't respond at first. You just breathe through it, shallow, unsteady, like maybe if you stay still enough, the discomfort will settle instead of swallowing you whole. But it doesn’t. It won’t. The ache is inside you now, twisting through your veins, crawling under your skin.

Your body knows.

Your stomach clenches, a deep, sour kind of nausea curling at the base of your throat. You swallow against it, shifting to sit up, but your limbs feel useless—weak, disconnected, fever-hot but shaking. Your fingers tighten around the blanket, grip slipping, damp with sweat.

You force out a breath. Your jaw locks against the answer he’s expecting. The truth. That your head is splitting open, that your body is begging for something, anything to dull the edges. That nineteen hours without it feels like your bones are trying to escape your skin.

But you don’t say any of that.

You wipe a shaky hand over your face. “I just need—”

Seungmin tilts his head, gaze sharp. “What?”

You shut your mouth.

You know what. He knows what.

You don’t have to say it.

The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. Seungmin doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away. He just watches you, gaze steady, dissecting. Like he’s waiting for you to be honest. Like he’s giving you the chance.

You won’t take it.

Your throat feels tight, like something is lodged there, heavy and immovable. Your hands are trembling where they clutch the blanket, knuckles white. You dig your nails into the fabric, trying to ground yourself, but the pressure doesn’t help—not really. Nothing helps.

Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re going through withdrawal.”

The word makes your stomach lurch. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to think about it. Because it makes it real—more real than the nausea, more real than the shaking, more real than the fact that you’re already considering how to make this stop.

“I’m fine,” you say. It’s useless. You sound anything but fine.

Seungmin scoffs, unimpressed. “You look like you’re dying.”

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Maybe I should.”

His expression hardens. “That’s not fucking funny.”

You shrug, but it takes too much effort, your limbs sluggish and aching. Your skin is too hot, but you’re shivering, cold sweat beading at your temples. It feels like your body is tearing itself apart from the inside out. Maybe it is. Maybe that’s what you deserve.

Seungmin’s jaw clenches, his fingers curling over his knee like he’s physically holding himself back. “I mean it,” he says, voice flat, but there’s something simmering underneath, something sharp-edged. “Don’t joke about that.”

You don’t respond. Not because you don’t want to, but because you can’t. The lump in your throat has grown thick, suffocating.

Seungmin watches you for another moment, then exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Nineteen hours.” He says it like he’s reminding you, like he’s giving you the number so you can decide what to do with it. “You can make it to twenty.”

Your stomach lurches. You want to tell him that you can’t, that twenty feels just as impossible as twenty-four, as forty-eight, as forever. You want to tell him that you don’t even know why you called him last night, don’t know why you let him drag you home instead of finding a way to get what you needed.

But you don’t say anything.

You just press your fingers against your temples and breathe through the nausea.

Seungmin shifts in his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. You can feel his eyes on you, sharp and assessing. “You need water,” he says finally.

You shake your head. The thought alone makes you feel sick.

"Seungmin."

Your voice cracks, raw and barely above a whisper. But it stops him in his tracks.

He turns, hand still on the doorknob, brows pulling together just slightly. "What?"

You swallow hard, staring down at the blanket bunched in your lap, twisting your fingers into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered. You feel stripped bare—exposed in a way that has everything to do with last night’s unraveling.

"Just—" You inhale sharply, pressing your lips together, hating the way your throat tightens. "Can you just… stay?"

The words feel small. Weak. And you hate that, too.

Then, with a sigh, he steps back into the room, kicking off his shoes as he moves toward you. "Move over."

You do. Barely. Just enough for him to slip onto the mattress beside you, his weight dipping the bed slightly. He settles in without hesitation, lying on top of the covers while you remain tucked beneath them.

It’s not weird. It never has been.

You’ve known Seungmin too long, been through too much together, for something like this to be anything but familiar. You’re practically family.

Still, when he shifts closer, when his arm slings loosely around your shoulder, something inside you cracks wide open.

"You scared me," he says eventually, voice quieter now.

Your eyes press shut. "I know."

Another beat. Then, "Don’t do that shit again."

You swallow past the lump in your throat. "Okay."

Neither of you move.

For now, this is enough.

The weight of exhaustion settles deeper into your bones, pressing you further into the mattress. Seungmin's warmth seeps through the layers of fabric between you, grounding in a way that nothing else has since last night. Since him. You exhale, slow and uneven, and Seungmin feels it—his grip around your shoulder tightening for just a second, a quiet reassurance he doesn’t put into words.

"Do you remember anything?" he asks eventually, voice softer than before.

Your fingers twitch against the blanket. "Some." A pause. "Not much."

He doesn’t say anything right away, but you feel the way his body tenses for a fraction of a second. "Changbin was looking for you before I found you."

Your stomach flips.

Your throat feels tight again, panic curling at the edges of your ribs. You don’t want to ask. Don’t want to know. But you do anyway.

"Did you tell him?"

Seungmin shifts beside you, chin brushing lightly against your hair as he adjusts. "No."

Relief and something bitter twist together inside you.

"He was worried," Seungmin adds after a moment. "Really worried."

You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. You don’t want to hear that. Don’t want to think about what Changbin must’ve looked like when he realized you were gone. The hurt that must’ve flickered across his face, the frustration that would’ve quickly followed. Seungmin shifts again, this time pulling back slightly so he can glance down at you. "You gonna talk to him?"

You hesitate.

Your fingers tighten around the blanket, nails pressing into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

"I don’t know," you admit, voice small.

Seungmin doesn’t sigh, doesn’t scoff—just watches you, eyes sharp, waiting. You can feel the weight of his gaze even without looking.

"You can’t avoid him forever," he says eventually. "You know that, right?"

"I’m not—" You cut yourself off, because you are. You absolutely are.

Seungmin shifts beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. "He was losing his shit last night," he says, blunt as ever. "Like, full-on panicked."

Your stomach twists.

"He kept asking where you went, if anyone had seen you leave. It was fucking sad, honestly."

You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your expression neutral, but Seungmin sees right through you. He always does.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leans back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling like he’s picking his next words carefully. You can feel his presence beside you, steady and sure, the way it’s always been.

"You know," he starts, voice quieter now, "I used to think you and Changbin were good together."

Your stomach clenches.

Seungmin doesn’t look at you, just continues like he’s thinking out loud. "I mean, I don’t think I ever told you that. But I did. You balanced each other out, you know? He made you laugh in a way you never let yourself. And you—" He exhales, shaking his head slightly. "You softened him in a way no one else could."

Your fingers twist into the blanket. You don’t want to hear this. Not now. Not after everything.

"It wasn’t enough," you say, barely above a whisper.

Seungmin finally glances at you. "You sure about that?"

You force out a hollow laugh. "We broke up, didn’t we?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"You broke up with him."

The words hit harder than you expect. You knew they were coming, knew that was the truth, but hearing them out loud makes your throat tighten.

You swallow. "It was for the best."

Seungmin scoffs. "For who?"

"For him," you snap before you can stop yourself.

Seungmin blinks, caught off guard by the sharpness of your voice. You press your lips together, exhaling through your nose, trying to reel yourself back in.

He doesn’t push. Just watches you for a moment, eyes sharp, searching. "Is that really what you think?"

You don’t answer. Because if you do, you’ll have to admit it.

That you left because you were scared. That you left because you felt too much, and it made you sick, made you restless, made you want to run before he could run first.

Because Seungmin is right. Changbin never left. You did.

"You were happy with him," Seungmin says after a moment, voice softer now.

Your chest tightens. "I thought I was."

"You were," he insists. "You just didn’t know how to let yourself believe it."

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. "It wouldn’t have lasted."

Seungmin doesn’t argue. But he doesn’t agree, either. Instead, he says, "Do you remember when he stayed outside your apartment that night?"

You cringe, shame curling deep in your gut at the memory.

Seungmin shifts beside you. "After you ended things. He came over. He wanted to fix it, but you wouldn’t open the door. So he just... sat there. For hours." He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "Hyunjin had to drag him back home. Said he wouldn’t stop crying."

Your heart clenches so tightly it hurts.

You remember that night. You remember sitting on the other side of the door, knees pulled to your chest, fingers pressed against your lips to keep in the sobs. You remember wanting to reach for the handle, to take it all back, to tell him you were sorry.

But you didn’t.

And now here you are, running all over again.

"You still love him, don’t you?" Seungmin’s voice is quiet, careful. Like he already knows the answer.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hard. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does," he counters. "And you know it."

Seungmin’s words settle into the silence, heavy and immovable. You want to argue, to deny it, to pretend that it’s not still clawing at your chest—but what’s the point? He sees right through you. He always has.

You press the heel of your palm against your forehead, eyes squeezing shut. “Even if I do, it doesn’t change anything.”

Seungmin exhales sharply through his nose. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll ruin it.” The words slip out before you can stop them, unfiltered and raw, and the moment they do, you wish you could shove them back down.

Seungmin goes still. And then, softer, “You really think that?”

You let out a hollow laugh, tilting your head back against the headboard. “Seungmin. Look at me. Look at the shit I do.” Your fingers twist into the blanket again, as if holding onto something tangible will stop you from unraveling completely. “I push people away. I fuck things up before they can fall apart on their own. And I don’t—” Your voice falters, throat tightening. “I don’t know how to be what he needs.”

A pause. Then—

“And what exactly does he need?” Seungmin asks.

You stare at him, frustrated. “Something steady. Something good. Something I’m not.”

Seungmin’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, his gaze softens, just slightly. “That’s bullshit,” he says simply.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He shifts so he’s fully facing you now, arms still folded over his chest. “You act like you’re some kind of walking disaster, like you’re incapable of being loved, but that’s not true.” His eyes hold yours, steady and unrelenting. “You love harder than anyone I know. You just don’t let yourself believe that people could love you the same way.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I—”

“You didn’t leave because you thought you weren’t good for him,” Seungmin cuts in. “You left because you were scared he was good for you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the ribs, knocking the air from your lungs.

Because it’s true, isn’t it?

Your throat is tight, chest aching in a way that feels too raw to touch. You don’t trust yourself to speak, don’t trust your voice not to crack under the weight of everything Seungmin is forcing you to confront.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything. The room is quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on your nightstand.

Then, quietly, Seungmin sighs. “You know, I don’t usually get involved in this kind of shit,” he mutters, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I figure people are gonna do what they want, and it’s not my job to fix their messes.”

You glance at him warily. “But?”

“But,” he says, leveling you with a look, “I think you’re being an idiot.”

You let out a dry laugh, rubbing at your eyes. “Yeah. I got that.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “I mean it. You can keep pretending you don’t care. You can keep running, keep convincing yourself that this is just the way you are.” His voice lowers, softer but no less firm. “Or you can do something about it.”

You swallow. “And if I don’t?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Then you keep living like this. Keep pretending you don’t miss him. Keep waking up in beds that don’t feel right. Keep feeling like shit every time you see him with someone else, wondering if maybe, just maybe, that could’ve still been you.”

You exhale shakily, pressing your fingers against your temples.

“I’m just saying.” Seungmin nudges your shoulder lightly, voice dipping back into something a little more familiar, a little less weighted. “You don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

A weak laugh escapes you despite yourself. “Fuck off.”

Seungmin grins. “There she is.”

The weight in your chest hasn’t lifted entirely, but it feels a little less suffocating now. Like maybe, just maybe, you can breathe through it.

You sit with that for a moment, the quiet between you no longer sharp, no longer something that threatens to choke you.

Then, hesitantly, you murmur, “What if I don’t know how to fix it?”

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate. “Then start by telling him the truth.”

You lick your lips, voice dry and unsteady. “I don’t think that’s enough.”

Seungmin exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Then stop making excuses and figure out what is.”

His voice is firm but not unkind. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you—like he’s giving you just enough space to mess up, but never enough to let you completely self-destruct. And right now, you think he might be the only person willing to call you out for exactly what you are.

You rub a hand over your face, fingers pressing into your temples. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Seungmin is quiet for a beat. Then, “Get clean.”

Your breath catches. “Seungmin—”

“No.” He looks at you, gaze sharp, unwavering. “I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I don’t see it. The way you drink. The shit you take just to keep your head quiet.” He tilts his head, studying you. “You think Changbin didn’t notice?”

Your stomach twists.

You’ve spent so long convincing yourself you were good at hiding it. That the late nights, the pills, the drinks, the desperate need to fill the empty spaces—you thought it was subtle enough to slip by.

But maybe it never was.

Maybe that was just another lie you told yourself to make it easier to keep running.

Seungmin leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His voice is quieter now, but no less firm. “If you want to fix things with him, if you actually want to try, you need to stop doing this shit to yourself.” He gestures vaguely at you, at the room, at all of it. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna keep hurting yourself. And worse? You’re gonna hurt him, too.”

Your throat feels tight. “I never meant to—”

“I know,” Seungmin says, and this time, there’s no bite to it. Just quiet understanding. “But you will.”

The words hit harder than you expect. Because the truth is, you’ve already hurt him. Over and over again. You saw the way he looked at you before you left, the way his hands trembled when he reached for you and you stepped back.

And still, you left.

You exhale shakily, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

Seungmin doesn’t let up. “Then figure it out. Because if you go back to him like this? You’re just gonna break him all over again.”

You swallow hard, hands shaking in your lap. He’s right. He’s so fucking right, and you hate him for it.

But mostly, you hate yourself.

For letting it get this bad.

For not stopping sooner.

For not being the kind of person Changbin deserved to love.

For the first time in a long time, you feel something crack deep in your chest, something that’s been locked up tight behind all the bullshit excuses you’ve been feeding yourself.

You meet Seungmin’s gaze, eyes burning. “What if I try and I still fuck it up?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Then at least you’ll know you actually tried.”

You stare at him, at the boy who has somehow never given up on you despite all the reasons he should. And then, finally, you nod.

It’s small. It’s hesitant.

But it’s real.

And that’s enough.

For a moment, at least.

Then the panic starts creeping back in—the gnawing, clawing kind that tightens around your throat and makes your skin itch with something worse than withdrawal. If you wait too long, you won’t do it. You know yourself. You’ll convince yourself it’s not worth it, that it’s better this way, that you’ll just end up ruining him more.

If you don’t go to Changbin now, you never will.

So you move.

You push the blanket off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the way the room spins violently around you. Your body protests immediately—your muscles scream, your stomach clenches, your skin feels feverish and too tight all at once—but you grit your teeth and stand anyway.

Or, you try to.

Because Seungmin is there, shoving you right back down before you even get a chance to take a step.

“No.”

Your head jerks up. He looks pissed—more than pissed. His jaw is clenched, his grip firm where he holds your shoulder

Your whole body tenses. “If I don’t do it now, I won’t do it at all.”

“And if you collapse on his doorstep, what then?” His grip is firm, but not unkind. His voice, though, is sharp. “You can barely fucking stand, let alone have a conversation with him that doesn’t end with you making it worse.”

He gestures at you—at the way your whole body is trembling, at the sweat glistening at your hairline, at the way your legs are barely holding you up. “You think you’re gonna show up at his place like this and suddenly everything will be fine? That you’ll say some magic fucking words and he’ll just forgive you?”

Seungmin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks exhausted. Like he’s been fighting a battle he never asked to be a part of.

“Just give yourself a few hours,” he says, voice quieter now. “Let your body catch up first. Then you can go.”

It’s a compromise. One that you should take.

So you do.

You let yourself fall back against the pillows, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. You don’t speak. Neither does Seungmin. He just stays there, silent, like he’s waiting for you to finally pass out.

You don’t. You can’t. Every nerve in your body is on fire, the restlessness so overwhelming it makes your skin feel too tight. You shift constantly, fingers twitching against the fabric of the blanket, but Seungmin doesn’t say anything about it.

At some point, though, he falls asleep.

You wait.

And then, once you’re sure he’s out, you move.

You push the blanket off, biting down on your lip to keep from groaning as your muscles scream in protest. Every inch of your body feels like it’s been wrung out, exhaustion settling deep in your bones, but you force yourself up anyway.

The clock reads 4:12 AM as you slip out the door.

Seungmin doesn’t wake.

And you don’t stop.

____________________________________________________________________________

For a second, neither of you say anything.

Changbin blinks at you, slow and disoriented, sleep still clinging to the edges of his expression. His hair is a mess, sticking up in uneven tufts, and there’s a crease pressed into his cheek from his pillow. He’s shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, one hand braced against the doorframe as he takes you in.

Then, his gaze sharpens.

His lips press into a thin line, his posture stiffening, the warmth of sleep fading into something more guarded. He looks you over once, eyes scanning your face, your trembling hands, the way you’re barely standing upright. He exhales sharply through his nose.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Your stomach twists. “Changbin—”

“Do you even know what time it is?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, rough and worn down. Not sharp enough to cut—but enough to bruise.

“I had to come.” Your voice is hoarse, barely audible over the hammering of your pulse.

He scoffs, running a hand down his face. “Of course you did.” He shifts, crossing his arms over his chest. “You high?”

You shake your head. “No.”

He doesn’t look convinced. His jaw tightens, his gaze flicking down to your hands—shaking, white-knuckled around the sleeves of your hoodie. You force them still, gripping the fabric harder.

“I’m not,” you repeat, firmer this time. “I swear.”

A long silence stretches between you, thick and weighted, the kind that sinks deep into your ribs and refuses to let go.

Then, with a quiet sigh, Changbin steps back. “Get inside.”

The warmth of his apartment is suffocating after the bite of the cold, the air thick with the lingering heat of sleep. It smells like him—like cedarwood and clean laundry, like something steady, something safe—but all it does is make your chest ache harder.

You don’t belong here. Not anymore.

Still, you step inside.

The door clicks shut behind you, a finality that rattles in your bones. You swallow hard as Changbin moves past you, his steps slow, deliberate. The kitchen faucet runs, the sound too loud in the quiet, and then he’s back, pressing a glass of water into your shaking hands.

His fingers brush yours—brief, fleeting—but it sends something sharp through your veins.

“Drink,” he murmurs.

You do, even as your stomach twists around the effort, even as the words start bubbling up before you can stop them.

“I—” Your voice catches, raw and unsteady. You clear your throat, grip tightening around the glass. “I’m sorry.”

Changbin exhales through his nose, slow and measured. He doesn’t respond.

You can’t stop. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to.” The words stumble out, rushed and uneven, spilling into the space between you like water slipping through cracks. “I don’t—I don’t even know how to fix it, but I—”

Your breath hitches. The words pile up in your throat, heavy and unwieldy, choking you from the inside out. Your hands shake harder, fingers tightening around the glass until your knuckles burn.

Changbin watches you, jaw tense, but his eyes aren’t hard. They aren’t angry. They’re searching, flickering with something unreadable, something softer than you deserve.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Your pulse is too loud in your ears. The room tilts. The air feels too thick, your lungs struggling to expand around it.

You don’t even realize what you’re doing—don’t register the way your nails dig into your palms, how sharp the pain has become—until Changbin’s hand wraps around your wrist.

“Hey.” His voice is low, steady. His thumb brushes over your skin, a grounding pressure. "Stop."

You blink, dazed, following his gaze down to where your fists are clenched so tightly that blood has begun to bead at the crescent-shaped wounds in your palms.

Your stomach lurches.

“I—” You try to let go, but your muscles refuse to cooperate, your fingers locked in place.

Changbin sighs, his grip gentle but firm as he pries your hands open. He doesn’t say anything—just guides you toward his bed, easing you to sit at the edge before crouching in front of you.

The mattress dips beneath you, its familiar give grounding you in a way your own body refuses to. The room still tilts at the edges of your vision, nausea pressing sharp against your ribs, but Changbin doesn’t let go. His grip stays firm, steady, his fingers wrapped around your wrists as if to keep you from slipping through his grasp entirely.

You watch, breath unsteady, as he releases you just long enough to disappear into the bathroom. The distant rustling of cabinets, the quiet pop of a cap being unscrewed—then he’s back, first aid kit in hand, expression unreadable.

The soft click of plastic echoes in the stillness as he kneels in front of you, his movements deliberate, careful. He doesn’t speak as he takes your hand again, doesn’t chide you, doesn’t ask why—he just begins cleaning the wounds, swiping a cool antiseptic wipe across your palm with excruciating gentleness.

You flinch. His grip tightens, but not to hold you still—just to remind you that he’s there.

"Relax," he murmurs.

You try. Try to breathe through the sting, try to focus on the warmth of his hands rather than the sharp bite of antiseptic against broken skin. But the moment feels too fragile, too raw, and you don’t know how to exist in it without unraveling entirely.

Your throat works around the lump forming there. “I didn’t mean to.” The words slip out before you can stop them, hoarse and barely above a whisper.

His fingers still against your skin. He exhales, slow and measured, before resuming his careful work. “I know.”

You’re trembling.

Changbin feels it beneath his hands—the fine, uncontrollable shakes that run through your fingers, up your arms, curling around your shoulders like something too heavy to carry alone. He doesn’t know if it’s from the pain, the exhaustion, or something deeper, something far worse.

Maybe all of it at once.

His chest tightens. He’s known you for years, long enough to recognize the weight you carry, the way you pretend it’s nothing. He’s seen you angry, reckless, sharp-edged and self-destructive. He’s seen you laugh through pain, spit out sarcasm like it’s a shield, convince the world that nothing can touch you.

But he has never—not once—seen you cry.

So when your breath shudders, when your fingers tighten in his, when your face crumples, it hits him like a fist to the gut.

It starts slow—just a hitch in your breath, a slight tremble in your lips. Then your eyes squeeze shut, and the first tear slips free, carving a silent path down your cheek. Another follows. Then another.

Changbin’s stomach drops.

“Hey,” he breathes, barely realizing he’s moving until he’s shifting onto the mattress beside you. He doesn’t let go of your hands, doesn’t even think about it—just stays close, as if anchoring you in place.

But you shake your head, ducking your head to hide behind your hair, shoulders carving into yourself, like you’re embarrassed to be breaking apart in front of him.

That’s what gets him. The way you’re trying so hard to hold it in, like you think you have to.

“Don’t,” he murmurs. He reaches up, hesitates for a split second before brushing his fingers against your cheekbone, coaxing your gaze to his. “It’s okay.”

You let out a sharp, broken breath, and his heart clenches so tight for a moment, he’s the one that can’t breath.

He’s helpless against it—the sight of you unraveling, the sound of your quiet, choked sobs. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say that won’t sound useless in the face of whatever’s eating you alive.

So he just does the only thing that makes sense.

He pulls you in.

His arms circle around you, firm but careful, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he holds too tight. A sob tears its way out of you, muffled against his bare shoulder, and it nearly floors him. He tightens his hold instinctively, hand cradling the back of your head, anchoring you as best he can while the weight of everything presses down. He knows then that you could continue pushing him away for the rest of your lives, tear his heart into pieces like you did the day you broke up with him and he would still be here, still be holding you like this if you ever needed him again like the damn fool he was.

The realization settles deep in his bones, heavy and inescapable—he will always come back to you.

You don’t speak. You just stay there, curled into him, hands gripping his hoodie like you need something—someone—to hold you together.

Changbin doesn’t move, doesn’t dare breathe too deep in case it startles you, in case it reminds you of the space you should be putting between you instead of closing it. Instead, he just presses his chin lightly against the top of your head and listens—to your uneven breaths, to the tiny, shuddering inhales that barely make it past your lips.

It takes a long time for your breathing to even out, for the tension in your body to start seeping away. Even longer for your fingers to unclench, for the weight against him to settle, growing heavier, more still.

He tilts his head just slightly, catching a glimpse of your face where it’s tucked into his shoulder. Your lashes are damp, cheeks still streaked with the remnants of your breakdown—but your features have softened, lips parted as sleep tugs you under.

Something in him pulls tight.

He knows you—knows that sleep doesn't come easy for you on a good day, let alone like this. But now, wrapped up in his arms, your body is giving in. You trust him enough, even now, to let go like this. To rest.

It shouldn’t make his chest ache the way it does. Shouldn’t make him feel like holding onto you for as long as he can, even knowing that morning will come, that you’ll wake up and everything will still be broken. That the walls will go back up, the distance will return.

But for now—just for now—he lets himself be selfish.

Carefully, he shifts, tightening one arm around you as he maneuvers you gently onto the mattress. You murmur something in your sleep, brow twitching like you might stir, and he stills, waiting, breath shallow. But then you sigh, sinking deeper into the bed, the tension in your face easing again.

He exhales, moving slowly as he reaches down, carefully slipping off your shoes. The laces are damp from the cold outside, your socks barely warm enough to fend it off. He makes a mental note to find a spare blanket, something heavier, something that will keep you warm.

He tugs the comforter over you, tucking it lightly around your shoulders.

Then, he just—pauses.

Standing there, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers twitch slightly against the fabric.

You have a long way to go.

There are things you both need to say, things you can’t keep burying under silence and unshed tears. This—whatever it is—can’t stay suspended in fragile moments like this forever.

But right now, that doesn’t matter.

Right now, you’re here.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

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dis-trict9 · 1 day ago

Text

hey there, your uh ass there is lookin' a little on the heavy side... i wouln't mind holding it up to take some of the weight off 👀

Lee Know cake 🍰

stray kids

100 notes · View notes

miupow · 8 months ago

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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.”

#skz x reader #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #bangchan smut #[ 💌 ] — requests !#[ 💌 ] — anon!

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luvyeni · 4 months ago

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🪽… ( reaction ) have you ever tried this one ? ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 스트레이키즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ straykids favorite positions to fuck you in ヾ

boyfriend!스트레이키즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ unprotected sex, oral sex ( F ), dirty talk, nsfw links. wc ・‎ ‎1.2k ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 tried something new today and added links no i cant make longer drabbles for any of these …

﹙ 𐙚 : bangchan ﹚ .ᐟ

wants you to feel all of him; he wants to be as deep as he can possibly be, that’s why nine times out of ten chan will have you folded in a mating press, stretching you out with his big cock. “fuck!” you screamed as the man above you fucked into you , holding your legs up to your chest. “deeper please.” no matter how deep he is , you want more — you want him to breed you. “fuck baby im already in your guts, how deep do you want me.” he grunted, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “want me to breed this pretty pussy.” you scream out, answering his question. “fuck yes!” moaning out feeling your cunt tightening around him. “sh-shit , that’s what you want? for me to fill this pretty pussy?” you moaned. “fu-fuck yes chan.” you moaned out. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hissed.

“gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.”

﹙ 𐙚 : lee know ﹚ .ᐟ

we all know lee know is an ass man, he’s revealed this on numerous occasions. when he fucks you, he wants you ass up so he can watch your ass recoil against him. “that’s it.” cursing , holding your hip with one hand , rutting into you. “shit keep moving that ass.” he was hypnotized by the way your ass moved. “fuck minho!” you screamed into the pillow. “fuck don’t stop.” he didn’t either , the grip on your waist tightening as he moved his hips faster. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he breathed out. “gonna fucking cum.” he groaned , pulled out stroking his cock. “fuck im cumming!” he howled as he came all over your ass. “shit baby.” he slapped your ass, you helped out

“god i fucking love your ass so much.”

﹙ 𐙚 : changbin ﹚ .ᐟ

changbin loves to show off his strength; he doesn’t spend his days in the gym just for fun. showing you how manly he his, lifting you up and fucking you in the air. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, his hand firmly grasping your ass holding you up as he pounded into you. “oh my god changbin!” your legs dangling on the side. “fuck me!” he held you up like you were nothing. “so-so strong.” he smirked. “yo-you like that?” he stuttered out, his voice deep. “shit , you like how i can lift you up and fuck you on my fat cock. nodding dumbly, babbling nonsense. “y-yes.” he cursed , bouncing you on his cock. “pl-please be careful.” you stuttered. “do-don’t worry baby im not gonna drop you.”

“gaining these muscle just so i can fuck you like this.”

﹙ 𐙚 : hyunjin ﹚ .ᐟ

hyunjin fucking loves morning sex , rolling over on his side , spooning you pulling your clothes down, his cock hard as a rock as slid inside you, sighing in relief. “so-so warm baby.” his sexy morning voice in your ear as his hand came up u onto your boobs , feeling up your body , squeezing your boobs. “fe-feel so nice baby.” he rutted into you. “so fucking nice , i love you so much.” his hands in between your legs, rub your clit — the sun was bleeding into the room. “hy-hyune im gonna cum.” you moaned out , he opened your legs , rutting into you harder. “cum for me princess.” letting you cum, him following right after. “sh-shit baby.” he let your legs go , kissing your neck tenderly

“good morning princess , you felt so good.”

﹙ 𐙚 : han jisung ﹚ .ᐟ

just put him in between your legs and let him do his thing, han jisung certified munch ! he doesn’t care whether he’s on top or if you’re on top. as long as he can taste your sweet cunt and feel your soft tittes in his hands , he is in heaven. “shit baby keep doing that.” you moaned, hands tangled in his hair , pushing him deeper into your mound. “fuck more.” hips moving against your will, he was that good , lapping at your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum.” he hummed as you came on his tongue, coating his tongue. “fuck you taste so good.” he pulled away. “like candy.” he bought his fingers to his mouth, bringing them back to your slit. “wanna make you cum again.” he rubbed your bud.

“wanna make a mess of you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : felix ﹚ .ᐟ

ride him in his gaming chair and his life is yours. he loves this shit — you “ innocently “ sitting in his lap , which ends up with you both naked , his game long forgotten as you milked him for everything he had. “sh-shit.” he held your lower back letting you do what you wanted before he pulled you flush against him , pressing down on your lower stomach. “lixie.” he squeezed your boobs. “lo-love you feel so good wrapped around me.” he moaned. “so fucking warm.” he kissed your boobs , bucking his hips up. “lix I’m gonna cum.” you whined , he rubbed your clit. “cum for me.” he whispered into your ear. “cum for me like a good girl.” releasing all over him.

the game was long forgotten after that , he was ready to make you cum all over again.

﹙ 𐙚 : seungmin ﹚ .ᐟ

you’re always on top, but he’s always in charge. his legs flat against the bed fucking up into you , his hands yanking your back , making you scream. “sl-slut.” he growled. “letting me fuck you like this , you’re so nasty.” his thrust were brutal , your ass bright red from his previous slapping. “you like being fuck like a whore?” he asked , knowing you can’t ask. “whose whore are you.” he yanked your hair. “i asked you a question , whose whore are you?” you were a mess , trying to get the words out. “yours -fuck!- im your whore minnie.” you let out a pornographic moan. “fuck I’m gonna cum.” he let your cum , holing you down as he emptied his load inside of you , holding you close to whisper in your ear.

“that’s right , you’re my whore.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeongin ﹚ .ᐟ

your body pressed flatly against the bed, arms pinned behind your back , jeongin kissing the sweet spot on your neck as , the kisses sweet and soft — a completely different from how deep he was inside you. “i-innie.” you babbled , he let your arms go , his hand wrapping around your neck, choking you lightly. “yo-you feel that -fuck- that’s my cock deep inside your pussy.” he grunted in your ear. “so-so deep.” he kissed your cheek. “i know baby , i know.” he moaned. “going dumb on my cock aren’t you.” your eyes rolling to the back of your head, his strokes were slow but deep. “just take it , that’s all you can do.” his hand tightening around your throat. “you can’t take it.”

“take it like a good fu-fucking girl.”

©️LUVYENI

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chlorinecake · 6 months ago

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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂

▹ 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

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…”

⋆♱✮ 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 !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...

#stray kids #skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bang chan #bangchan #bang chan stray kids #skz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #stay kids bang chan #kpop smut #stray kids hard hours

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krosiefics · 6 months ago

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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

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jeonginsleftcheek · 2 months ago

Text

All on board

~ thanks @furioussheepluminary for fueling my fantasy🫠🫶🏻

pairing: pilot!hyunjin x stewardess!reader

genre: filthy smut

wc: 1.1k

warnings: degradation, reader is called slut and bitch, hyunjin is called sir, face fucking, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, pussy slaps, creampie, cum eating, hair pulling

a/n: pls i tried i had one hell of a day sorry if there are mistakes or if this is not very good😭🫠 also i've never written mean dom so djkdlcl

~ masterlist

Working as a stewardess for a big airline definitely had its perks. Like traveling all over the world, the exciting feeling of being so high up in the sky and well...

"Miss l/n, could you come to the flight deck, please?" your pilot's voice rang out, a shiver running down your spine as you bit your lip with a smile.

"Yes, Sir?" you followed his voice to the front of the plane, blinking your eyes innocently at him.

Yes, another perk of being with this airline was Hyunjin. Maybe even the biggest perk according to you.

"I need to perform the preflight inspection." he smirked at you and you giggled as you walked closer to him.

You knew what that meant of course, this wasn't the first nor the last time you were doing this.

"Of course." you said. "Sir." you added as he lifted his brow at you, his eyes traveling all over your body.

You stood in front of him and started unbuttoning your blazer, followed by your blouse, revealing a sweet white lacy bra adorning your breasts.

Hyunjin's face flushed and his pants started to get tighter but he kept looking at you sternly, trying to hold in the need to just kiss you stupid.

You bunched up your skirt, showing him the matching panties underneath.

"Good, good. Let's see." he smirked, coming closer to you, his fingertips on your inner thigh. He slowly moved them up towards your core, pressing them into the wet patch that has already appeared on them.

"For me? Aren't you an eager little slut, hm?" he leaned over you, making you whimper as he tapped your clit with his fingers.

"Yes I am, Sir." you confirmed and he smirked.

"I know baby, that pussy is already crying to be stuffed." he chuckled and you whined a little, becoming desperate to be touched.

Hyunjin unbuttoned his white pants before pushing them down together with his underwear.

"Come on. Get me wet, slut." he ordered.

"Yes, Sir." you whined as you got down on your knees.

"Open your mouth." he grabbed his cock and you did as you were told.

Hyunjin smacked your tongue with his tip a few times before pushing it in and your eyes rolled back as you took it.

"Yes, like that." he groaned when you started bobbing your head up and down. He grabbed at your head, ruining the tidy bun you had put your hair in.

You moaned around him as he gripped you harder, fucking into your mouth as you gagged.

"I know you love choking on it." he smirked and fucked your face harder, every time his tip hit the back of your throat you gagged, tears rolling down your cheeks as you grabbed at his thighs.

Your nails dug into his skin as he moaned, fucking you even faster as his hips snapped.

"Fuck!" he whined, pulling out before he could cum.

"Get up." he almost growled and you obeyed immediately, standing up and turning around so you can bend over the chair he'll be sitting in soon.

He chuckled behind you, pushing your panties to the side. Your breath got caught in your throat as you anticipated his fingers on your folds, instead your pussy got slapped.

You yelped, your legs trembling as he chuckled again.

"Louder, bitch." he said lowly before slapping your pussy again and you moaned louder.

"Who owns this pussy?" he asked, slapping you again.

"You, Sir, you own it." you whimpered as he slapped your throbbing pussy once more.

"That's right. It's only mine to play with." he said before plunging two fingers inside you, making you yelp again. He spanked your ass as a warning to stay still before he started fucking you with his fingers, scissoring them to prep you for his cock.

"Ah! H-Hyunjin!" you moaned and he let out a little laugh as he pushed into your sweet spot.

"What did you call me?"

"Sir! I'm sorry!" you cried, fresh tears falling down your cheeks as he started spanking your ass.

You gripped onto the chair, whimpering loudly as he assaulted your ass and fucked you with his fingers at the same time.

"I-I can't!" you moaned out, you couldn't hold it in as you squirted all over his fingers and your thighs.

"I didn't give you permission to cum." he growled as you cried, your heart beating hard against your chest.

"I'm so sorry for disappointing you, Sir." you said quietly.

"Oh, you'll be sorry, bitch." he smirked as you braced yourself. He gripped his cock and pushed it into your pussy forcefully, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you screamed out as he started pounding into you hard immediately, rattling your entire body with the force of his hips.

"You're getting too loud." he frowned, gripping your hair and pulling you up as you arched your back for him. He brought his other hand to your lips and pushed the fingers he fucked you with into your mouth.

You moaned around them, tasting your release on them as you started sucking and licking at them.

"Don't you dare cum. If you do, I won't breed this little pussy." he smirked evilly, knowing that this was your favorite part.

You whimpered around his fingers as he gripped your hair harshly, fucking into you sloppily. Your pussy was so wet and overstimulated and you just wanted to cum again so badly but you knew the consequences so you tried holding it in.

Hyunjin decided to taunt you even more as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and brought them to your sensitive clit.

"Fuck!" you whimpered.

"Hold it in." he ordered and you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice.

It took everything in you not to cum, just so you could feel him explode inside you and fill you up with his warm cum.

"Mm, take it." he moaned under his breath as he finished inside you.

Hyunjin pulled out, replacing his cock with his fingers as he gathered some cum and brought it to your lips.

"Taste." he said and you licked around his fingers, looking straight into his eyes.

"You did well." he smirked.

"Thank you, Hyunjin. Sir." you chuckled.

"I'll let it slide this once." he teased, leaning in to kiss you.

"Thank you for being so kind." you teased back.

"Let's clean up, we have a plane to fly." he wiggled his eyebrows at you before kissing you again, as always he was addicted to your lips just like you were addicted to him.

Yes, flying with your boyfriend definitely had its perks.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143

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chansdoll · 2 months ago

Text

필릭스 ─── hands on me

[ ⟡ ] ── NSFW, MDNI! ✁ tattoo artist!felix x afab!reader , sliiight buildup , oral (f. rec) , unprotected p in v (don't be silly) this was a request ♡ i hope you like it ! ♡ masterlist

smut below the cut - minors gtfo.

it wasn't your first tattoo, but it was your first time going to this shop.

what made it nerve-wracking was the fact that your tattoo artist, felix, was absolutely stunning. you had heard about him through a friend, and now, seeing him in person, it was impossible not to feel a little flustered.

felix was everything you imagined—and then some. his black hair, slightly tousled, framed a face that could've been carved by a master sculptor. the tattoos that covered his arms, neck, and chest were intricate and bold, each one telling a story.

he also had a variety of piercings—small hoops and studs that caught the light in a way that was somehow both edgy and captivating. his warm eyes, though, were what really threw you off guard. despite his tough exterior, there was something soft, inviting, almost comforting about them.

but it wasn’t just his eyes that drew you in. you couldn’t help but focus on his lips, which were perfectly shaped—plump and naturally a little shiny, likely from the chapstick he kept applying. you found yourself getting lost in the way he spoke, your eyes lingering on his lips as he explained the tattoo process, trying not to blush every time he glanced your way.

he looked so damn good. and that only made your nerves skyrocket.

the tattoo itself wasn’t huge, but the idea of being alone with him, vulnerable as he worked on your skin, had you second-guessing everything. you had no idea how long you could stay still, especially with his hands so close to you.

after you filled out the paperwork, felix returned shortly, holding a few sketches he’d worked on. you had opted for a bite mark design on your inner thigh—something subtle but realistic, something that would look almost like a real imprint. you’d spent hours online researching, and now it was time to make it real. you looked at the options, your hand shaking slightly as you reached out to point at the one you liked the most.

“this one’s perfect,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. your gaze lifted to meet his, feeling heat creep up your neck. you tried to push the nerves down, but it was hard when he was standing so close, his presence overwhelming in the best and worst ways.

felix chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he noticed your discomfort. his expression softened just a little, and he leaned in slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the spot you had pointed to. “don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and calm, almost teasing. “we’ll take it slow. you’ll be fine.”

you nodded, trying to calm the storm of butterflies in your stomach. felix’s confidence was reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the mix of excitement and nerves swirling within you.

felix slipped on his black gloves, the latex stretching over his fingers with a soft snap. he looked up at you, his gaze shifting between the paperwork on the counter and the spot you had indicated for your tattoo. "so, where did you say you wanted it again? your inner thigh?" his voice was steady, but there was a slight curiosity in his tone, maybe even a hint of hesitation.

you nodded, setting your bag down on the table next to the tattoo chair, your hands slightly trembling from both nerves and anticipation. "yeah, the inner thigh."

felix seemed to hesitate, his eyes flicking to your leggings. you could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to phrase his question just right. "um... are those rollable?" he asked, gesturing vaguely toward your leggings.

your stomach sank, realization hitting you. you had completely forgotten to bring a pair of safety shorts, the kind that would make this whole process a lot easier for both of you. you felt a knot tighten in your chest. "uh... no. they're not," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper as you avoided his gaze, suddenly very aware of your clothing.

felix's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly, clearly understanding the situation. he seemed to be weighing his words, a slight furrow of uncertainty crossing his brow before he spoke again. "are you comfortable with... taking them off?" his voice was gentle, yet there was a note of hesitation there, as if unsure how you might react. "if not, it's okay. we can always reschedule, do it another day."

you felt the pressure of the moment, the weight of the decision hanging in the air. you knew you had to get this done—work was about to pick up, and you didn’t have much time to spare. you couldn’t afford to reschedule. after a brief moment of internal conflict, you sighed softly and gave a small, reassuring shake of your head. "i can take them off. it's fine," you said, your voice a little more steady now. you offered a smile, though it felt slightly forced.

felix's expression seemed to relax at your words, the tension in his shoulders easing. he gave you a small, reassuring smile in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "okay," he said gently. "i'll give you some privacy, then."

with that, he turned and made his way toward the door. his footsteps were quiet, almost deliberate, and before leaving, he glanced back at you once more. "let me know when you're ready," he said softly before closing the door behind him, leaving you in the room alone.

you stood there for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling through you. you knew it was just part of the process, but it felt more intimate than you anticipated. still, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what came next.

you called out softly, "i'm ready," your voice steady despite the storm of nerves coursing through you. moments later, the door creaked open, and felix stepped back in, his gaze carefully neutral as he approached.

"alright," he said warmly, his tone professional yet kind. he kept his focus on your face as he moved to his workstation, ensuring you didn’t feel self-conscious under his gaze. "let me just get everything set up."

you nodded, clutching the edge of the chair lightly, your palms damp. the air felt cooler against your exposed skin, heightening your awareness of the situation. you reminded yourself that this was just part of the process—felix was a professional, and you were in good hands.

felix busied himself organizing his tools, laying out the stencil, and double-checking the placement. when he turned back toward you, he knelt slightly to meet your eye level, his tone gentle. "alright, i’m going to place the stencil now. let me know if it feels off, okay?"

you swallowed hard and nodded again, your throat feeling tight. "okay," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix moved closer, his gloved hands brushing lightly against your skin as he positioned the stencil on your inner thigh. his touch was firm yet delicate, and the closeness of it all made your heart race even faster. you forced yourself to stay still, focusing on your breathing.

"how does that look?" felix asked, pulling back slightly to give you space to examine the placement. his eyes met yours, soft and reassuring, as if sensing your nervousness.

you glanced down, grateful for the chance to break eye contact. the stencil looked perfect—exactly where you’d envisioned it. "it’s great," you said, trying to sound more confident. "right where i wanted it."

"good," felix replied, smiling slightly as he stood up. he moved to adjust his machine, the hum of it filling the room a moment later. "you ready to get started? i’ll go slow at first, so you can get used to the feeling."

you nodded, gripping the armrests of the chair a little tighter. "yeah, i’m ready."

felix leaned in again, his presence calming despite the anxiety bubbling within you. his voice was gentle as he spoke. "just let me know if you need a break, okay? you’re doing great so far."

the first touch of the needle against your skin was sharp, but it was the kind of pain you could endure. you tried to focus on the steady hum of the machine and felix’s soft, calming instructions. still, his closeness made it hard to relax—his body angled toward you, his breath occasionally fanning over your skin, and the subtle brush of his hand near your inner thigh sent your heart racing.

felix worked with a laser focus, his movements precise and practiced as he outlined the stencil. his professionalism was clear, but the proximity made it impossible for you not to notice every little thing—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of his hands through the gloves, and the way his dark eyes stayed intently on his work.

lost in his task, felix leaned in further, his breath ghosting over your exposed skin. his knuckles brushed the outside of your underwear, a touch so light it could have been accidental, but it sent a jolt through you. the sensations from the needle—the sharpness, the vibrations—only seemed to amplify the growing heat in your core. you pressed your lips together, willing yourself to stay still, but the ache was becoming impossible to ignore.

as felix adjusted his position, his hand grazed just slightly closer, his knuckles brushing against your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. the contact was brief but electric, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips before you could stop it. the sound was barely audible over the hum of the tattoo machine, but felix froze instantly, his head snapping up.

his dark eyes locked onto yours, a mix of concern and something unspoken flashing across his face. “you okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine care as he set the machine down on the tray beside him. his gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of distress.

your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words. the weight of the situation hit you all at once—the intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability of being in this position with someone like felix, and the fact that he had noticed your reaction. you nodded quickly, your face burning as you tried to steady your breathing. "yeah, i’m fine," you said, your voice a little higher than usual, betraying your flustered state.

felix’s brows knitted together briefly, as if he wasn’t entirely convinced. he tilted his head slightly, his tone softening even further. "you sure? we can take a break if you need."

you swallowed hard, shaking your head more firmly this time. "no, really, i’m okay. just... sensitive, i guess." you gave a nervous laugh, hoping to brush it off.

felix’s lips curved into a small, understanding smile, though there was still something unreadable lingering in his expression. "alright," he said gently. "but if anything feels uncomfortable, you let me know, okay?"

you nodded again, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment as he returned to his work. his focus shifted back to the tattoo, but the tension in the air felt heavier now, charged with an energy neither of you acknowledged. you closed your eyes, willing yourself to stay composed, though the sensation of his hands and the steady vibrations made it a challenge you weren’t sure you’d win.

throughout the duration of the tattoo session, you tried your best to maintain a calm composure, hiding the telltale signs of your arousal as you and felix talked about random things. but felix could see and smell it all too clearly. the scent of your desire wafted through the air, filling his senses and causing an immediate reaction in his jeans. his member began to thicken and strain against the fabric, already tight on its own.

though he knew he needed to remain professional, the sight and smell of your arousal was impossible to resist. he couldn't help but lean in closer, selfishly inhaling more of your intoxicating scent as he worked deftly on your skin. as his breath brushed against your core, a shiver ran down your spine.

but then he caught a glimpse of your slick glistening through your panties, and he almost let out an audible groan. it was clear that you were completely turned on by him and his touch, and he couldn't resist pushing the boundaries just a little further.

you squirmed slightly, the movement catching his attention. "still doing okay?" felix asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. the words were laced with a subtle edge, a hint of something more.

"y-yeah," you stammered, your voice unsteady. your face felt hot, and you avoided his gaze, knowing that if you looked at him now, you might lose whatever shred of composure you had left.

felix's lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he refocused on the tattoo. he told himself to stop, to keep this professional, but the temptation was maddening. his hand brushed against your thigh again, his knuckles grazing higher this time, and he swore he felt you shiver.

he glanced up, his dark eyes locking with yours. the room felt unbearably small, the air thick with tension. felix hesitated, his professionalism warring with the primal desire that had been building since the session began.

he leaned back slightly, setting the tattoo machine down. his gloves flexed as he adjusted them, his voice soft but firm when he finally spoke. "you’re... really sensitive here," he said, his words carrying more weight than their innocent meaning should have.

you swallowed hard, your breath quickening. "yeah, i guess so," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix leaned in again, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath. "if this gets too much for you... or if you need anything, just say the word," he said, his tone almost daring you to admit what he already knew.

the tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken desire. felix's hand had just brushed your slick panties again, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when you jolted slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips. your body was trembling, the sensations overwhelming as your arousal built to a point where you could barely think straight.

"felix," you breathed, your voice unsteady as you placed a hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. "i... i need a second."

he froze immediately, his dark eyes snapping up to meet yours, filled with concern. his hand withdrew gently, and he sat back slightly, giving you space. "are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady but laced with worry.

you nodded quickly, swallowing hard as you tried to steady your breathing. "yeah, i’m just... it’s a lot," you admitted, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. you couldn’t meet his gaze, but when you glanced down, you caught sight of the prominent bulge in his jeans, straining against the fabric. your breath hitched at the realization, and your eyes darted back up to his.

felix followed your gaze and cursed under his breath, running a gloved hand through his dark hair. "i’m sorry," he murmured, his voice rougher now. he shifted slightly, as if trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it was no use.

your heart raced at his words, a mix of embarrassment and intrigue flooding through you. "felix..." you started, your voice trembling.

he leaned closer, his gaze locking onto yours, his expression equal parts hesitant and desperate. "if this is too much, we can stop," he said, his tone sincere. "but... if you want, i can help you." his words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

your lips parted, your mind spinning at the offer. "help me?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

felix nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know what i mean." he said, his voice dropping an octave, "i can take care of it. only if you want me to." his gloved hand rested lightly on your thigh, his touch both comforting and suggestive, and his eyes were pleading.

you hesitated, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you considered his words. the ache between your legs was unbearable, and the thought of his skilled hands—or more—bringing you relief was almost too tempting to resist. but the intensity of the moment, the sheer intimacy of what he was offering, made you pause.

"only if you’re sure," felix added, his voice softer now. "i don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with."

you gave him a nod, your voice wavering. “words, y/n.” he said, setting the tool down and taking his gloves off. “i-i’m sure,” you said nervously.

that was all felix needed. he yanked off his gloves, tossing them aside in a hurry. a growl rumbled low in his chest as he leaned in, his hand sliding higher along your thigh, skimming the edge of your panties. his lips were tantalizingly close to your skin, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your panties, a teasing, feather-light touch that made you gasp softly. felix smirked, his eyes darkening as he saw the effect he had on you. "so wet," he murmured, his thumb pressing lightly against your clit through the fabric, drawing a whimper from your lips. "is this all for me?"

you nodded, your body arching into his touch as a soft moan escaped you. felix groaned, leaning down to press his lips against your thigh, his kisses slow and deliberate.

he tugged your panties aside, exposing you fully to his gaze. your pretty lips were glistening, sopping wet with your essence. his eyes drank you in, and he licked his lips before looking up at you. "i want to make you feel good," he said, his voice husky with need. "will you let me?"

"please," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

felix didn’t hesitate. he dropped to his knees in front of the chair, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer to the edge.

his touch was gentle and careful as he moved your thighs apart, mindful not to disturb your freshly inked skin. with one hand holding your panties to the side and the other spreading your lips open, he marveled at the sight between your legs. "fuck, you're so wet," he murmured before leaning in for a taste.

the sensation of his tongue piercing against your sensitive flesh caught you by surprise, but it was a welcomed one. a wave of satisfaction rippled through you as he flicked his tongue against your clit with skilled precision. your hand found its way to his head, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging occasionally in pleasure. he looked up at you, a hand running along the inside of your thigh as he lavished attention on your bud.

a deep growl rumbled from his chest as he buried his face deeper into your cunt, sucking and licking with fervent desire. you couldn't hold back the loud moan that escaped your lips or the way your body arched towards him. "just like that," you praised him through heavy breaths, hips bucking against his face desperately.

it was too much. the sight of felix between your legs, his nose buried in your mound and the wet, sloppy noises of him eating you out sent a sharp pang to your core. with a few more sucks from his mouth, you came undone - stars exploding behind closed eyes and pleasure coursing through every inch of your body. felix eagerly lapped up every drop of you, not pulling away until you gently guided his head off of you.

he stood up in front of you, smiling down with pride and lust in his eyes. "feeling better?" he asked playfully. you could only nod, cheeks flushed darkly from the intense encounter that had just occurred. your gaze drifted down to the prominent bulge in his jeans, knowing that he needed release too. "let me help you," you muttered, eagerly reaching for him.

felix’s grin faltered for a moment as your words sank in. his dark eyes widened slightly, and then his smirk returned, this time tinged with a hint of surprise and desire. "you don’t have to do that," he said softly, though the way his voice betrayed just how much he wanted you to.

you swallowed hard, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, but your gaze remained fixed on the straining bulge in his jeans. the thought of him, thick and hard, made your core clench again. you shook your head, your voice steadier now. "i want to."

felix’s jaw tightened, and he let out a low groan, as though he was fighting every instinct he had. "are you sure?" he asked, his hands flexing at his sides. "this wasn’t supposed to go this far. i... i don’t want you to feel pressured."

you stood slowly from the chair, your knees still a little shaky, but your determination unwavering. your hands reached for his belt, and when you looked up at him, your eyes were full of intent. "i’m sure, felix," you said softly, your fingers working the buckle open.

he let out a sharp breath, his restraint snapping as he nodded. "fuck," he muttered, his hands coming to rest on your hips. "i’m not going to hold back, then."

with that, felix helped guide you as you undid his jeans, his cock springing free, the sight making your breath catch. he was surprisingly thick, the head flushed and already leaking precum, and the sheer size of him only made your arousal spark anew. felix leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pulled you flush against him.

“bend over that counter for me.” he instructed you, patting your barely clothed ass. you did just that, bending over the counter and arching your back for him slightly. he yanked your panties to the side again, getting behind you hurriedly. he rubbed his fat tip against your wet lips, coating himself with a groan. he pushed himself inside you slowly, as if savoring every inch being swallowed by your cunt. each second of his cock filling you was pure bliss; he felt divine.

he buried himself to the hilt, a low, throaty groan leaving his lips. he ran his hands up your back, catching your shoulder to pull you back against him. “oh, you feel so good,” he grunted, slowly pistoning his cock in and out of your cunt. he lifted your leg carefully, helping you rest it on the counter so he could fuck you better.

his hands roamed your body as he fucked into you, one of them resting in the crevice of your thighs and your hip, squeezing into your flesh. he sped up quickly, rutting into you with low growls and curses. his thick tip massaged your g-spot so deliciously, making a pit form deep in your stomach. you whined loudly, crying out in bliss as he stretched you fully.

felix abruptly halted when he heard a sharp knock at his door, and he cursed under his breath. "i'm with a client," he hollered, his hands still kneading your flesh while he paused inside you. the sound of footsteps retreating from outside his door made him exhale heavily with relief. he quickly returned to thrusting into you with renewed vigor, the thrill of almost getting caught fueling his actions.

as he continued to fuck you senseless, you whimpered in excitement, knowing that any minute someone could walk in on you both. "you almost got us caught," felix growled, increasing his pace to an unrelenting one as he whispered dirty words in your ear. the possibility of being caught only heightened the intense pleasure pulsating through your body, and you couldn't help but moan louder with each powerful thrust.

felix moaned loudly as your pussy tightened around him, fluttering and milking him with every delicious movement. "f-fucking...shit, you're gonna make me cum already," he choked out hoarsely. his fingers dug into your skin now and his hips were moving quickly and urgently as he chased his release.

your ass slapped against his waist, the loud clapping sounds echoing in the room. "cum in me," you whimpered, glancing back at him over your shoulder with pleading eyes. he didn't need to be told twice and obliged, your words sending him over the edge in no time. with a deep growl, he threw his head back and bit his lip as he emptied himself inside of you. he pumped you full with his load, his cock twitching with each spurt of cum.

you whined in pleasure, your eyes fluttering closed as he continued to thrust slowly in and out of you, mixing his release with your own essence. his gaze never left where your bodies were connected, as if he was in a trance from how thoroughly fucked out he was.

he finally pulled out wetly, helping you stand back upright. “are you okay?” he asked, tucking himself away quickly and helping you fix your panties. you nodded, still dazed from the thorough fucking he gave you. “yeah, th-thanks for helping me,” you looked up at him, a dark blush on your face.

he grinned and zipped his pants back up. “don’t mention it,” he nodded toward the chair. “should we continue?”

needless to say, you continued. and you definitely would be coming back.

tags: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek

2K notes · View notes

aeliuss · 18 days ago

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Favorite Places to Have Sex

MDNI, 18+ content.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when they wanna venture outside your bed

notes: this ended up longer than originally planned ngl. i find myself falling deeper and deeper into the void that is kim seungmin. pray for me ✊😔

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHAN

you already know what it is. chris practically lives at the studio, so why not fuck where he's most comfortable?

it always starts innocent enough. he's working late, you've invited yourself to the couch in the back, just scrolling through your phone. he calls you over to show you something he's working on and there just happens to only be one chair--the one he's currently settled on.

of course, he's not just going to let you stand, he's too much of a gentleman for that! he's kind enough to lend you his lap.

except now he can't focus. he's just trying to mix a track, but the way you shift on his lap whenever you point something out on the screen...yeah.

his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your thighs, voice dropping lower as he murmurs, "You’re distracting me, baby."

before you know it, his hands are gripping your hips, and you’re bouncing on his cock in the dim glow of his monitors, his low groans mixing with the bass from his unfinished song. The door is locked, but someone could still knock at any second—maybe a member, maybe a staff member and it's such a fucking vice, because on one hand, he doesn't give a shit. he wants them to hear, to know how good he makes you feel. it's the biggest thing that feeds his ego.

on the other hand, those sounds you make, the whimpers, the mewls, the lewd squelch your cunt makes when he's already made you cum twice but still can't stop rutting into you...yeah those are only for his ears.

he's pretty open to using his own moans though. have you listened closely to the backtrack of railway?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ LEE KNOW

minho is obsessed with eye contact, so it’s no surprise that his favorite place is in front of a mirror. he wants you to see everything—the way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure, the way he controls every reaction you have.

you're insecure about your body? the sounds you make? yeah, no. every fucking thing about you is his biggest turn on, and he's just not okay with you not knowing that.

he’ll start slow, teasing you with featherlight touches, whispering in your ear, "look at yourself, baby. look how pretty you are for me." his hands will guide your movements, forcing you to watch the way he ruins you. and just when you think he’s going to let you close your eyes, he grips your jaw, turning your head toward the reflection. "I said, watch."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHANGBIN

gym. yeah i said it, i don't care how basic it is.

he will sweetly ask you to come work out with him, super super early in the morning or super late at night, when nobody's around. he'll tell you it's because he gets too shy to take off his shirt when other people are around but gets too hot and uncomfortable with it on.

you fall for it every time. sweet thing.

binnie loves seeing you all sweaty and out of breath. there’s something about watching you work out that drives changbin crazy—maybe it’s the way your body moves, the little whimpers when you push yourself too hard, the way you stretch in all the right ways.

one second, he’s spotting for you, the next, he’s pinning you against the weight bench, gripping your thighs, telling you to let him do all the work now. "you wanna stretch a little more, baby?"

next thing you know, he’s pinning you against the mirror, your fingers leaving smudged prints on the glass as he fucks into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight. he groans against your ear, voice thick with need,

"you've worked so hard today, baby," he'll grunt into your ear. "let me take care of you now."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HYUNJIN

hyunjin’s art studio is his sanctuary, the place where he’s most creative, where he loses himself in his work for hours at a time.

it always starts innocently enough. it's your birthday, and he wants to paint a portrait of you in that cute little sun dress he gifted you. that short, skimpy little sun dress he gifted you. and he needs you on his lap. for the creative process. spefically with your dress up, panties pushed aside, and his cock nestled deeply inside of you.

also for the creative process.

"you gotta sit still for me, pretty." he murmurs, leaned back against the couch, his gaze focused on his canvas. "or else this will take longer."

it's horrendously delicious, the way he makes you warm his cock while he works, refusing to let you move. he doesn't even fucking react, a hundred precent focused on making you the best portrait.

when he's done though, and only if you've been good and didn't move, he'll set his supplies aside to dry and let you fuck yourself on him. let you use him any way you want it.

and if you haven't been good, the only thing you're getting off on is his thigh. if you're lucky. tough luck.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HAN

jisung has no patience. if he wants you, he wants you. which is why you end up fucking in the car so often—no waiting, no hesitations, just pure, impulsive desire.

it usually happens after late-night drives. the city lights blur past as he grips the wheel, one hand occasionally straying to your thigh, drumming against your skin. it's so fucking soft against his fingers, he's already hard. and you just had to wear that little skirt that gives him easy access.

"you're driving me crazy," he mutters, trying to keep his eyes on the road, shifting in his seat. he's only just got his fucking license, he could hardly drive with the music on yet, much less with you sitting there like that.

he’s aching for you.

so when he pulls into some dark, empty parking lot, hands clenched around the steering wheel like he’s trying to keep himself in check, you decide to put him out of his misery.

you lean over, fingers already working at his belt.

he whimpers. actually fucking whimpers.

his cock is already hard, leaking, twitching against the cool air, and when you wrap your fingers around him, he bucks into your hand with a choked gasp.

"f-fuck, baby, please—"

yeah...you're not going home any time soon.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ FELIX

felix is dangerously charming, and he knows exactly how to turn an innocent moment into something sinful. it usually starts with something as simple as baking together, fingers covered in flour, soft laughter filling the space.

but then, his hands start lingering—a light touch on your lower back, a casual squeeze of your thigh, his voice dropping an octave as he murmurs, "You're making a mess, baby."

the moment he sees you licking something off your finger, tilting your head like you’re teasing him? yep, you're fucked. not quite literally yet tho.

before you know it, he’s lifting you onto the counter, lips trailing down your neck as he spreads your thighs, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat building between you both. the half-mixed batter is forgotten, the kitchen filled with breathless moans instead, his hands spreading your thighs apart, eating you out like a man starved.

which he is. he's always fucking starved for you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SEUNGMIN

the library is the last place you’d expect seungmin to be this filthy.

It always starts so subtly. he's supposed to be helping you study for your finals, flipping through textbooks in the quietest corner of the library. but then his hand finds your thigh under the table, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles.

"focus," he says, when he look at him sharply, voice perfectly neutral.

like he isn’t the one distracting you.

you try. poor thing, you really do. but his touch is persistent, featherlight strokes just beneath the hem of your skirt, moving higher, higher—so painfully slow that it’s infuriating.

"seungmin," you whisper, an urgent warning.

He doesn’t even glance up from his book. "what?"

you shoot him a glare, shifting in your seat to escape his touch, but his grip tightens just slightly—a silent command. Stay still.

"you should really be paying attention," he murmurs. "or do you need some extra motivation?"

oh he'll tell you that if you make it through the chapter like this that he'll reward you, give you what you really want. he'll keep you on the edge, till you're finally right there, so close--

he pulls away completely, returning to his textbook like nothing happened.

"you should finish your work first," he says, flipping a page. "i’ll think about rewarding you later."

the audacity.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JEONGIN

his childhood bedroom.

you heard me.

the posters on the walls, the old books cluttering his desk, the twin-sized bed that barely fits both of you—it’s all so him. It should be innocent, just a short visit to his parents’ house, just a normal night.

or so you thought.

it starts with you lying next to him under the covers, whispering and giggling, trying not to wake anyone. he’s got one arm lazily draped over your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. but then his hand slips lower—too low for something so casual—and suddenly, that mischievous smirk is on his lips.

"you’re being quiet," he teases, voice barely above a whisper. "something wrong?"

um yeah, something’s wrong. his parents are asleep down the hall. the walls are thin.

that’s the thrill—how you stiffen when he presses against you, how you grip his wrist when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

"aw, baby, that's just too bad" he coos, smirking against your skin. "You’re gonna have to be quiet for me."

the bed creaks when he shifts, pressing his weight against you, and he pauses—just for a second—listening for any signs of movement outside the door. when all remains quiet, he grins, his hand slipping beneath your pajama shorts, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

"shh," he breathes, pressing a finger to your lips. "if you wake them up, you’ll have to explain how their sweet, innocent jeongin has you like this."

2K notes · View notes

moonchild9350 · 5 months ago

Text

Sweet Mornings

Summary: morning sex with Chan after he’s been away on tour.

Pairing: idol!Chan x fab!reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: somniphilia, handjob, kissing, p in v penetration, creampie (don’t), cockwarming

Notes: wrote this in the early morning hours. They’re disgustingly in love lol

If you enjoyed, consider a like, reboot, comment as it keeps me motivated 🤍

Chan is back.

That’s what runs through your head, as you open your eyes from sleep, blinking into the early morning sunlight that’s pouring through the windows.

You feel a warm body next to yours, their arms wrapped snuggly around you, caging you in so your bodies mold perfectly together. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he peacefully slumbers, actually sleeping for once.

You’ll tease him about it later and he’ll go on to say it’s because he’s back at home with you, his love, his comfort.

You slowly maneuver yourself so you’re facing him, silently chuckling at how his arms are still wrapped tightly around you.

You take the moment to gaze at your boyfriend, view him undisturbed in the morning hours. A smile graces your face as you see the sun has highlighted his features, his eyelids seeming almost translucent as it shines on his skin, allowing you to see the faintest blue of his veins. His eyelashes flutter as he dreams what you hope are good dreams and hopefully filled with you.

His hair is haphazardly a mess, something that has always tickled you, as he always looked like a train wreck when he first woke up. He’d whine when you’d tease him and then press a kiss to his lips to silence him which he always accepted.

His lips are slightly parted, his breath fanning out evenly signaling he is in a deep slumber.

Staring at him you feel a tingle, an ache that starts to form, soft and gentle at first. You take a breath and let it out, as a small trickle of slick leaks out of your pussy.

You reach your hand towards his face, your fingers lightly dancing across his skin, as soft as a feather drifting through the wind. The pads of your fingers brush over his cheeks, feeling the peach fuzz, the ends of the strands barely bending at the disturbance.

The ache grows larger, settling in your core, the walls of your pussy clenching involuntarily. You feel almost an electric feeling settling in over your body, making each sensation you feel that much better.

You’re aware of your bare legs beneath the sheets, the fabric brushing against them with each movement, the way your shirt touches your nipples, the slight stimulation causing shivers to run down your spine.

In that moment you realize once more Chan is home. You’ve missed this, his presence, how he feels inside you. You’ve missed him.

You reach your hand below the sheets and touch his bulge, slightly hard in the early morning hours. You smile as you lean forward and press your lips to his, sighing as they mold to yours immediately, even though he’s still asleep.

The moment is soft and slow as you press your lips to his, not fully removing them, just wanting to feel them on yours after so long. With each press you give his cock a squeeze, the appendage hardening further with the pressure.

With your next shaky kiss, Chan’s eyes open, the brown orbs zeroing in on you. He closes his eyes once more, however this time he puts more into the kiss as his arms tighten around you even more.

“Baby,” you whisper, the syllable barely formed as you continue to kiss your lover. “Need you.”

You slide your palm faster and harder against his cock, feeling the wet fabric as his precum leaks out.

“Yeah?” Chan breathes, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of your t shirt, causing you to arch slightly into him.

You push his boxers down, the fabric obeying until it hits the swell of his ass. You whine at the resistance, wanting to rid him of the offending agent as quickly as possible.

Chan chuckles at your struggle and at your desperation. He lifts his hips and you quickly slide them down, a soft sound falling from your lips as if you were purring.

You can feel him now, his cock hard and warm in your hand. You wrap your hand around the head, pushing a finger into his slit, listening as Chan hisses at the pressure.

He lets out a low moan not long after as you stroke his cock, hard but gentle. His fingers pull at your shirt, silently asking you to take it off.

You hesitantly release his cock and shuck your shirt off, your tits now bare for his viewing pleasure, your nipples hardening in the cold air. You slide your panties down your legs as well, needing to have no further interruptions.

You snuggle up to Chan once more, your hand finding his cock again. You stroke him faster this time, his precum aiding in the glide, a soft slick sound echoing in the room as your hand slides up and down.

“Y/n, y/n, baby,” Chan whispers out and then whimpers as the pleasure courses through him. He missed this feeling, the only one you can bring him.

You smile at his turmoil, your slick now steadily leaking, coating your folds and your thighs. You kiss him again, your walls clenching as he lets out a growl deep within his chest.

Before you can fully register, you’re on your back, your head hitting the soft pillows, as you let out a huff. Your hands reach out to touch his arms, your eyes seeking out his.

Chan nudges your legs open, so he can fit more easily between them. His eyes stay on yours as he grabs his cock, bringing the head to your soaking folds.

He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your warmth, a feeling he’s missed over the last few months. He knows you feel the same, as your fingers dig into his biceps, your lips slightly parted as you breathe in anticipation of finally feeling him, your tits heaving with each breath.

You both are a mess, as your moans ring out throughout the room, Chan’s cock finally sinking into your warmth. You whine at the sting, your walls slowly spreading, stretching, after not having anything inside for months.

Chan is nice and easy, knowing it’s been a while. He knows his cock is big and your hole tiny. He pushes in inch by inch as you let out each breath until he’s flush against you, your walls keeping him in with how tight you’re wrapped around his cock. He waits a moment, waiting on the signal from you that he can move.

You steady your breaths, the feeling of him inside you too much, that pleasurable ache growing with each passing moment as he lays there cradled in your arms.

“Channie, move…please,” you beg, your fingers playing with the hairs on the back of his neck.

Chan withdraws his hips and rocks them back into yours, coaxing a low moan out of you. You wrap your arms tighter around him, his neck buried in yours as he rocks, rocks, and rocks.

The pleasure is heightened, after not feeling him for so long, the warm sensation building quickly in your core as he massages your walls.

Chan fucks you softly but deeply, savoring this moment of early morning bliss. You mewl out as he shifts his hips ever so slightly, angling his cock to drag along your sweet spot, causing your toes to curl and legs to tighten around him.

Both of your moans accent the quiet of the room, the only other sounds being the evidence of how wet you are for Chan and the shift of the fabric as it travels over your bodies.

You’re stuck to him, a thin sheen of sweat forming over your bodies, as Chan continues to make love to you. You squeal as the new position allows the hairs on his pelvis to apply just enough sensation against your clit, the bud teased with each thrust.

The warmth builds, growing larger, threatening to spill. You can tell Chan is close too, as his breathing becomes more erratic, his hips not as rhythmic as a few moments ago.

You clutch onto him more, pressing your tits into his chest, wrapping your legs around his ass as you focus on reaching your high, your core feeling like it is on fire.

With a few more shaky breathes, you let out a loud moan, Chan’s name on your lips like a prayer as you release around his cock, your walls spasming, clenching around him. You can hear him groan and then let out a grunt, as he spills within you, the feeling of his cum coating your walls causing you to moan.

Your both a mess of sweaty bodies as you lay there, neither one of you moving except for the rise of your chests as you breath to come down from your highs.

The sun rises higher in the sky as time passes, the light brighter as it shines through the room. It’s quiet, except for the sound of Chan’s beating heart as you’re now resting on his chest.

His cock is still buried within you, soft and warm, his cum still buried within you. You lay there in his embrace, snuggled to him bathing in the post orgasmic afterglow.

You feel the threat of sleep linger over you, your body exhausted after the activities of the morning. You start to slip, your mind slowly leaving and entering into that dream world that has been your haven the last few months.

However, this time you enter into a different sleep, your mind understanding that your dreams have come true.

Chan is home.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 3 months ago

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𝑶𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅

Pairing: Vampire Bang Chan x sub fem!reader

Content Includes: DUB-CON, DARK FIC!!! blood play, kidnapping, mind manipulation, spit play, unprotected sex (he's a vampire so condoms aren't needed you know?), aphrodisiacs, biting, oral (fem receiving), jealous and possessive sex, praise, body worship, aftercare, bath sex, kissing, 18+

Word Count: 3K

It's pretty soft in it's dynamics honestly but the underlying themes are incredibly toxic and unhealthy so this is your final warning, this fic will not be for everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been here—days, weeks? Time blurred together in the dim, lavish bedroom where Bang Chan kept you. The first days had been filled with resistance: pounding on the door, screaming for help, and refusing to eat. But Bang Chan had been patient, his eyes glinting with that quiet, obsessive resolve as he whispered promises that you would come to love him, that he’d make you see he was the only one who could care for you properly.

The last time you tried to run, he’d found you halfway down the staircase, dragging you back to this room as if you weighed nothing. That night, he’d fed you his blood for the first time, his lips pressed to your mouth as you resisted, his voice low and commanding. "Drink," he had said. "You’ll feel better. I promise."

You hated how right he’d been. The warmth of his blood coursing through you had sent a dizzying, molten pleasure straight to your core. It had softened every sharp edge of your defiance, leaving you pliant, your mind clouded with a hazy need for him.

Now, when the door creaked open, your heart skipped—not with fear but anticipation. Even as your mind rebelled, your body craved him, craved the dizzying ecstasy his blood brought.

Bang Chan stepped inside, his dark, predatory eyes drinking you in as you sat curled up on the bed. He looked as though he’d been pacing outside, his sleeves rolled up with his shirt undone at the collar, his hair a tousled mess, the remnants of blood on his lips and his mangled eye reflecting in the moonlight.

"Are you still sulking, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and almost tender. "Haven’t I given you everything?"

You didn’t answer, but your gaze betrayed you, flicking to the faint scar on his wrist. He caught the movement immediately, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips.

"You need me, don’t you?" he asked, approaching the bed with the careful intensity of a predator cornering its prey. "Even when you try to fight it, you feel it—the pull. My blood running through you, tying you to me."

Which was the point to all this wasn't it? For what could a man who can't be alone yet be sentenced to a lone eternity do?

He had to make you depend on him, feed off him, make you addicted to the aphrodisiac running through his veins, fill the void of emptiness in his dormant heart and replace it with your blood, your moans, your aching cunt and eventually...hopefully, your love and care.

Even if he had to force it, manipulate, take it.

You were the only thing he desired yet couldn't own entirely in his aimless, monotonous world.

He climbed onto the bed, his body caging you in as he cupped your face with one hand. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you shivered under his touch.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice trembling with need. "Let me give you everything you’ll ever desire."

He kissed you then, his lips soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you even as your mind screamed to resist. His hands slid down your body, peeling away the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirt to expose your skin to his hungry gaze.

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a searing path of kisses, each leaving a crimson mark on your skin. "Every inch of you belongs to me. No one else will ever touch you, taste you, or even look at you."

He bit into his wrist without hesitation, his blood welling up in dark, crimson drops. Instead of pressing it to your lips, he leaned down, capturing your mouth with his. The metallic tang of his blood mixed with the heat of his kiss as he spat it into your mouth, his tongue chasing the last drops.

You moaned in euphoria at the taste of it, your tongue lapping at his bottom lip as your body became tingly with arousal and need, a burning heat pooling at your core and flowing to every limb and fibre of your being.

A firm hand wrapped around your neck and tilted you up so you were staring at Bang Chan who's eyes were deep and shadowed and held an unsettling combination of adoration and dominance, a bottomless pit of longing and control that promised he’d never let you go.

"Swallow," he commanded, his voice rough with desire.

You obeyed, your body shivering as the warm, heady rush of his blood spread through your veins. The haze returned instantly, a fog of contentment and submission that made you pliant under his touch.

"That’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, hand slowly releasing. "Feel how much you need me. Feel how good it is to give in to me."

You could only whimper in response, your eyes becoming glassy from receiving your daily fix- too fucked out to notice his smirk as Bang Chan kissed his way down your skin, unbuttoning his shirt as he does so.

By the time he was finished with your torso, your skin was covered in shades of pomegranate and crimson, your nipples swollen and kiss-bruised, you were a canvas for his all too-consuming desires. Your marked flesh returned to blank perfection by the healing powers of his blood, which only provided the permission he needed to claim you again.

He removed his shirt, letting it fall to the ground as you gazed in awe at his torso, untainted and marble-toned under the moonlight. His hands moved between your thighs, spreading them apart as you lay pliant for him. His mouth is pressed against your skin in the softest of kisses before puncturing the skin with his fangs, his eyes lidded in a complete state of pleasure as he drank from you.

You barely had time to recover and notice the pain before his tongue lapped at your core with an unrelenting intensity that left you gasping.

"You taste like my redemption," he groaned, his voice muffled against you, his tongue drawing circles and suckling on your clit at an inhuman pace. "My heaven. And you’ll never need anyone but me."

The pleasure built quickly, your body trembling under his expert touch. Just as you reached the edge, he pulled back, his lips glistening with blood and your slick as he looked up at you.

"I won't let you cum yet until I've been satiated by the warm, sweet, wet cunt of yours." He speaks as he undresses, removing his pants and shoes so he is fully nude, his muscles tense and cock hard and aching from how close he was about to enter into his paradise.

His fingers gently brush down the side of your face as he hovers over you, pushing your legs apart with his knee so he could slot between them, running his fingers down the sides of your body before pulling your knees up and around his waist.

There was no light apart from the essence of the moon streaming through the bare window so he was a shadow of your darkest fears and deepest cravings but he could see all of you, crave you, lavish at your beauty.

And it angered him to his core that he could never truly own you, that you couldn't be truly his unless you offered yourself to him freely.

"You’re mine," he said, his voice raw and filled with dark heat as he pushed into you, filling you completely.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he moved inside you, his thrusts deep and desperate, his hands gripping your waist as if he feared you might vanish beneath him.

Bang Chan always entered you without any type of preparation, he was so cold and you were so warm, breathing fire into him from the outside in, the first push into your tight, warm and wet heat had him teetering on the edge of his orgasm every, single time.

For you however, it would have been painful without the blood but with it alighting you with flames from the inside and out, the stretch of him filling you and settling so perfectly inside of you was enough for your body to shake and tremble from how close you were to eternal bliss, your loud moans filling the room as your nails raked down his back, pulling him closer to you.

"Yes, mark me, scrape your nails down my back, make me feel alive again," the words were laced with a gravelly husk, his voice breaking. "Say you’ll always need me. Say you’ll love me the way I love you."

"I’ll never leave," you whispered, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation.

"Good girl," he groaned, his forehead pressing against yours as his thrusts grew erratic. "You’re my good girl. Always."

His thrusting slowed to light grinding as he bit his wrist again, tearing open the barely healed wound with his fangs as the blood pooled from his mouth, streaming down his chin and dripping over your chest as you sensually opened your mouth to receive the drug in its purest form, swallowing and gulping all that you craved as Bang Chan pushed the essence further into your mouth, ensuring every part of your mouth and teeth were covered with his tongue.

You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you from this intimate act, an exchange of life force, a life he desperately wanted to give you and a life you can live with if it means feeling like this every day.

His thrusts grew faster again, his hips snapping against yours as he balanced himself on his arms, his right hand moving down your abdomen, leaving streaks of blood in their wake as his fingers nestled against your clit, his face shining with pride at your enthusiasm and pleading whines to finish.

"You're getting tired aren't you?" Bang Chan cooed at you in a slightly mocking tone, his eyes flashing a hint of mischief as he maintained his pace, not even breathless or a hair out of its place.

"I'll let you rest after you've cum for me babygirl, soak my cock for me, squeeze me with that perfect cunt of yours yeah?"

You reached your orgasm just moments later, your back arched and mouth open in a silent scream, draped in a way that Bang Chan could only describe as nirvana, his secret elysium from the agony of living forever.

The bedroom was silent except for the sound of your labored breaths, the aftermath of your intimacy still tingling through your body. Bang Chan hovered above you, his dark, piercing eyes studying your face with a mix of obsession and adoration.

"Don't fall asleep yet" he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "I need you to get cleaned up baby. Let me take care of you."

Before you could respond, he scooped you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly into the bathroom. The room was filled with the faint scent of lavender, the soft yellow lighting casting a homely ambience in the room. He settled you over his lap as he fiddled with the taps, rubbing your back lightly as the tub filled up.

Chan didn’t say a word as he set you down in the tub, his hands moving to cup and pour water over with a careful reverence. His fingers lingered as he began to wash the blood off your chest with his bare hands, his touch igniting fresh sparks of heat wherever it grazed your skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he said, his voice thick with emotion. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and all-consuming.

He stepped into the bath when he was ready, his body facing yours. The warmth of the water enveloped you as he helped you sink into the tub, your back resting against the porcelain.

Chan seated himself between your legs, the water lapping gently against his toned chest as his hands roamed over your body. "Just lie there baby, let me heal you" he murmured, his lips trailing from your collarbone to the swell of your breasts. His kisses were soft, reverent, each one filled with a silent promise.

His hands moved with practiced care, spreading soap over your skin as he washed you, his touch lingering in a way that made your breath hitch. "I'll keep you safe," he whispered, his voice gentle, with an underlying edge of possessiveness "Even if it means locking you away where no one else can take you from me."

The bathwater was beginning to darken in a hue of red as he washed the blood away, his cock hardening and skin burning with need at your beautiful body underneath him, your face looking so pure under the warm light and under his tarnished, sin-covered hands.

When you gazed up at him through your lashes, there was a sense of gratitude and care in them, like you were genuinely enjoying and appreciating this moment of care despite his blood in your veins thickly veiling the reality of this moment.

But it was enough for Bang Chan, his appetite for you insatiable and unwavering, every moment when he wasn't over you, holding you, being inside of you, dripping his blood into you would cause him desperate, emotional pain and an ache to tether his skin to yours.

His lips found yours again, his kiss deep and unyielding as he pressed closer, his body hovering over yours. The water shifted as he manoeuvred you, his strong arms bracing on either side of you as he caged you in.

"I'll make you need me" he said, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hunger. "I'll be the only thing you'll ever crave, even if I have to make you depend on it."

His mouth captured yours in a bruising kiss, and you gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance. His dark eyes met yours, his expression raw and unhinged as he whispered, "Say you’re mine."

"I’m yours," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips before you could think.

"That’s my girl," he groaned, his voice breaking as he pushed inside you. The water rippled around you, the heat of it amplifying the sensation as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts.

The sudden intrusion made you wince in discomfort slightly but the ache was only fleeting before the familiar pleasure swept through your body, your body already conditioning itself for Chan's purpose as your legs automatically parted and your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough as his hands roughly grabbed the side of your face . "I need to see you, need to know you’re not thinking about anyone else."

He always wanted to make love to you whilst he was above you, having you pinned underneath him- purely because he enjoyed how powerless you looked but also because he needed you to look into his lovesick eyes and know how obsessed he was over you, how he'd kill for you, how every breath you exhaled was on his conditions.

"I’m not," you whispered, your voice trembling as his pace quickened.

"Good," he rasped, his forehead pressing against yours. "Because no one will ever love you the way I do. No one else will ever take care of you like this. And I'll spend a fucking eternity proving it to you if I have too".

And how could you think of anyone else when every fibre of him was in you, his blood in your veins, his words in your brain, his teeth in your skin, his cock hard and plunging into you...because you were just as twisted and obsessed he was, obsessed for the fix, for his care, his words, his undying devotion towards- it was an addiction you could not quell, nor desire too.

His thrusts grew deeper, more desperate, the water splashing gently against the edges of the tub. His lips found yours again, his kiss feverish as if he could seal you to him forever.

"Tell me how to make you happy," he begged, his voice breaking as his movements faltered, his need for you overwhelming him. "Tell me what I have to do to make you stay with me."

"You already do," you managed to whisper, your hands clutching the tendrils of his hair as the pleasure he gave you consumed you.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion.

"You make me happy," you said, your words spilling out in breathless gasps.

His grip on you tightened as he buried himself deeper, his lips pressing against your neck as he groaned, "That’s it, baby. You’re mine. Always mine."

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped, leaving you both trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over you. He held you close, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "I’ll never let you go. Never."

After a moment, he eased back just enough to slide out, pulling you on top of him so you were resting against his chest, his hands rubbing gentle strokes up and down your back.

"Don't ever think of leaving me" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but firm and edged with a thinly veiled threat.

"You won't like what I become if you do".

Surprise!!! What a way to end 2024 everyone, a final gift for you all to say goodbye and welcome the new year.

I've been wanting to write this type of fic for Chris for months now and railway was the final thing needed for me to break my writer's block and write something.

My most popular fic ever of 2024 was in fact my Haunting Adeline fic with Yunho so whilst I won't write dark fic all the time, I'll probably write more of it if you can handle reading more of it.

Incredibly grateful and appreciative to everyone I've interacted with and spoken to this year, let's see what the next 12 months will bring and inspire out of me.

Kisses and hugs to all of you!!!

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @craxy-person @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @starillusion13 @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @jus2passtime @shroomoth @marykpoppins @leomggg @daddysspecialdollyworld @mykryptonitelight @wisejudgedragonhairdo @sanakimohara @chansfavouritetoy

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luvyeni · 2 months ago

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chan helping you out in the middle of the night

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 방찬 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. soft sex. unprotected sex. word count. 0.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ soft channie fics are my favorite for some reason

“baby please lay still.”

you tried, you really were trying to lay still and close your eyes — but you just couldn’t , you didn’t have an ounce of tiredness inside you. “i can’t sleep.”

you both had just been laying there cuddled together as you tried to fall asleep for the night; but after 20 minutes of nothing you decided it would just be a night of no sleep. “baby you have work in the morning , you’re gonna be so tired.” you whined out annoyed, he chuckled. “ i know.”

he pulled you closer; kissing the side of your neck. “let me help you sleep princess.” his hand coming up under your tank top. “ch-channie.” you moaned as he toyed with your nipple in between his fingers. “shh baby, let me take of you.” you could feel his cock twitching in his shorts as he toyed with your boobs.

you grabbed his hand, dragging it down your body; until you reached your lower region. “ne-need you here.” he cupped your mound. “yeah?” he rubbed your clothed folds, his cock begging to be freed and inside you. “did you plan this princess?” he pulled your panties to the side. “you’re so wet , it’s like you wanted this all along.” he pushed a finger inside of you. moaning softly as he worked his finger inside of you. “you wanted me to fuck you to sleep.”

your legs crossed over; trapping his hands there. “an-another please.” he hummed, added another. “don’t think i can hold back anymore.” he said softly as he easily slipped his fingers out of you despite your legs trapping him. “need to be inside you.” he lifted your leg up , pulling his shorts down enough to free his hard and leaky cock. “pl-please put it in.” you whimpered as he pressed his cock against your hole.

“fuuuck.” he sighed contently, feeling the warmth of your insides. “you feel that princess.” rocking his hips softly. “s-so big.” you moaned he grunted moving his hips. “i know baby , i know but you can take it baby.” he groaned. “take my cock baby.” his hip’s moving fluidly against you , you feel yourself getting sleepy. “told you baby , i can help you.” picking up the pace. “so-so sleepy.”

your velvety cunt clenching around him. “i know baby , i can feel you about to cum.” he moaned, his orgasm approaching. “cum for me princess, cum all over daddy’s cock.” you let out a pornographic moan , clutching the sheets as you came. “there you -shit- good girl.” he sped up just enough to give him pleasure. “fuck im gonna cum.” he groaned. “just hold on baby i know you’re tired.” he held you close , rubbing your sensitive clit. “ch-chan.” you stuttered. “fuck i know , im almost there princess -fuck I’m gonna cum.” he moaned , his forehead pressed against your back. “fuck im cumming.”

he gripped your waist holding you still. “oh fuck baby that’s it.” he panted. “i love you so much.” he whispered against your sweaty skin. “such a good girl for me.” your eyelids heavy. “chan.” he shushed you. “it’s okay princess , close your eyes we can clean up in the morning.” he didn’t bother to pull out , just pulling you flush against him.

“goodnight princess.”

©️LUVYENI

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4linos · 2 months ago

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— [stray kids nsfw links 3] ୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 mdni.

warnings: porn.

a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve done a post like this so here are some links while i procrastinate my uni work 😝

bang chan

relaxing bath. 🛁

lipstick marks.

lee know

public touches.

kitchen counter. 🧑‍🍳

changbin

quickie.

date night. 🛏️

hyunjin

handjob + wine.🍷

forgotten movie night.

han

cumming before bed.

morning routine. 🪥

felix

overstimulation.

gaming break. 🎮

seungmin

good morning. ⛅️

perfect vacation view.

i.n

midnight snack. 🍴

breeding.

masterlist

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bambiihee · 2 months ago

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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.

S𝒯RA𝒴 K𝒾DS 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼ @enigmaticaphrodite , @jellymochii , @dwaekkicidal , @11vr1 , @yunverie, @arcturus444, @love-ning

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