vsmvz

[vsmvz]

however you want it, lover-lover

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!! bang christopher chan’s never-ending shame and embarrassment, angst (? kinda maybe if you squint), masturbation (m!), cunnilingus, rimming (f!rec), unprotected sex, foot stuff (chan puts his foot on ur head when he fucks you in doggy), daddy kink, dirty talk

a/n: eeeeeep surprise! another commission!! thank u again to the sweetheart who commissioned this! the only specifications were about chan putting his foot on your head during doggy & the “step on me” comment, thank you for giving me creative liberty on everything else, i had so much fun with this!! <3

“step on me.” 

it’s the first thing you’ve said in probably thirty minutes. you and chan are busy doing absolutely nothing, both on your phones and relaxing together on your couch on his odd day off. 

“ste- aha! what? jesus, what are you saying?” 

“step on me! look at this tiktok.” 

you hand him your phone, and chan immediately groans and looks up at the ceiling when he lays eyes on the newest tiktok edit you’ve been watching for the past two minutes straight. at least two minutes. he’s going to have this song stuck in his head for the rest of the day thanks to you. 

no diggity. flashes of sweat-slicked abs, slitted eyes, and a sharp jawline that have you kicking your feet and biting your lip next to him. 

“don’t- don’t look at it like that. i don’t look like that,” chan complains. he tugs on his earlobe; the skin is flushed pink. 

“you’re so fucking hot. that part! wait, go back, that part. that- right there. i’m getting horny.” you push into his space on the couch, knees pressed close to his muscular thighs, using your finger to point dramatically at the phone still clasped in chan’s loose grip. he almost shrieks when the clip of him lifting up his shirt rolls around again, an embarrassed grin on his face while he rolls his hips to the beat. “that! oh my god, i love these guys.” you pat his stomach. 

“why are you watching these? this is so embarrassing,” chan mumbles. he lets you snatch your phone from his hand without fuss. 

“edits of my sexy boyfriend? are you joking? i have a whole folder of them, look.” 

you’re not kidding, chan comes to find. you really do have a tiktok folder filled with hundreds of spicy edits of him. you add this one to the folder and hand your phone back to him, curling up beside him tightly with your arms wrapped around one of his so that you can go through them together. 

countless edits later, you can feel the heat radiating off of your tomato-red boyfriend. the last straw doesn’t even come from a particularly scandalous edit, just the song attached to it. 

“oh gosh, not-! not daddy’s home, i can’t handle this!” 

“whaaat?! what! what, come on, that one’s so good! you were so hot in that suit you wore at kcon!” 

chan drops your phone into his lap and fake cries into his palms while you shake his shoulders with your hands, the chorus of daddy’s home still playing ridiculously in the background. 

“you’re so red right now i feel like you’re going to explode or something.” 

you fan him aggressively with your hands, and chan tugs at the thick neck of his hoodie to circulate some air to his equally-as-red chest. 

“i think i could. stays are, um, haha! stays are really, really good at edits. those transitions were kinda crazy.” 

“‘how many letters is bang chan?’” you read, picking your phone back up from his lap and pausing the video to scroll through the comments. “‘we must stay focused brothers.’” 

chan leans into you again and grabs the corner of your phone to angle it towards him so he can read the funny comments with you. he’s cute, embarrassed and sweetly shy from seeing his own body and hard work be made a spectacle of. your man is a pro-idol indeed, the confident lip bites, shirt lifts, and grinding hips come easy to him on stage, but chan off-stage would prefer to curl up in a ball and cover his ears at the mere mention of a compliment. 

“‘step on me, king,’” he reads. “what- what does that even mean? no, i don’t wanna know. you guys are insane!” his lips quirk down, contemplative. you giggle at the way his eyes dart back and forth quickly like he’s really trying to figure out the mystery of someone wanting to be stepped on by him. 

“it’s just, like, an internet thing? people probably don’t even really mean it, it’s like a reflex to say when someone’s super hot. well, no, i lied. people definitely mean it with you.” 

before you can explain your case further, chan grabs you around the shoulders and pulls you to his chest in a rough bear hug. your nose is smushed against his abdomen, and you’d bite down if you knew you’d get anything other than the thick fabric of his hoodie in your mouth. 

“whaddya mean people definitely mean it with me, huh?!” 

you love when he gets like this, playful and silly and uninhibited. cute. his face flushes petal pink at the attention, the compliments and praise make him want to shrivel up, but he wants to hear them from you regardless. he craves it. 

“y’re hot, goober,” comes your muffled reply. chan has mercy on you and lets you up from his grasp, he even smooths out your now frizzy hair. it’s not until your legs are thrown across his lap and you’re nestled into the corner of the couch that he speaks again. 

“did- i mean, did you mean it? like- you’d want me to? step… on you? or something?” 

your comment started off as a little joke, something so completely unserious, but at the same time, it’s not like you have to put much thought into it. you’ve watched porn, you’ve watched hardcore porn when you were in the mood for it, and there’s something in particular that you are mighty keen on trying out in bed with chan as long as he’d be comfortable doing it with you.

“yeah, like. like, wouldn’t it be kinda hot? if you fucked me from behind and put your foot on my head to hold me down?”

chan cocks his head like he’s not expecting you to answer so seriously, blinking rapidly as he takes in what you said. he’s the perfect partner, the perfect lover in bed and out, there’s truly not much you could ask him for that he wouldn’t go out of his way to do, but this might be the exception based on the sour look on his face.

“don’t- don’t make me feel bad! is it weird? maybe it’s kinda weird.” 

“hey! hey hey hey, no, bug. c’mere.” chan tugs on your ankle until you’re curled up next to him again. he wraps a strong arm around you, settling the other one under the tuck of your legs so he can cradle you close. “i didn’t mean to make you feel bad. you know how i am about my feet, yeah? they’re so… flat.” 

he mutters the word flat like it’s a curse, like he’s disgusted with himself. chan nitpicks himself like it’s his job, and he’s the chairman of the company. his nose is too big, his feet are too flat. why is his bum so big and his arms not big enough? he focuses on every single detail of his physical being until they drive him crazy, but you’re helping him work on it, a slow but sure process. what may be small details to you are not small details to chan, it’s important for you to remember. 

“don’t be mean to my channie.” you bonk your forehead against his. “i think it would be hot. just- it’s just another way you can have me, you know? get me on my knees for you and push my head into the mattress when you fuck me, and if i move too much you just put your foot on my head to keep me in place. tell me to be good and take it.” 

you press your legs together at the thought, and chan rubs a gentle hand up your thigh. an even gentler smile graces his pretty lips, he can tell by how squirmy you’re becoming that you’re getting worked up.

“is that what you like about it? that i can keep you in place?” 

that’s only part of it. you don’t want that from just anyone, you want it from chan. chan makes you crave submission in a way you never have before because you trust and love him so wholly. chan takes you to the moon and gives you the stars while you’re there. you tell him all of this, and his fingers make their way between your closed legs.

“let me think on it, yeah?” he whispers. “just let me think about it.”

he can’t stop thinking about it.

he’s already naked, didn’t bother changing into clothes after a quick shower, and his cock is drooling on the thick planes of his abs. 

chan likes being dominant. chan loves being dominant, in fact. there’s something so special about taking you apart and putting you back together again. it’s cathartic to him, and he knows it is for you too, but sometimes the vast clashing of chan’s shameshameshame and wantwantwant is hard to navigate. 

what kind of man is he that fantasizes about debasing you like that? you deserve to be treasured. you’re his queen, he should treat you as such, how could he even think about something like this? 

nevertheless, the thought lingers. 

your hands pinned against your back by his veiny ones. his cock, hot and heavy, drilling into the sweet heat of your precious cunt. you’d be crying, he’s ashamed to think, begging for your daddy to fuck you harder, give you more. 

chan licks his palm. his balls are tight when he fondles them, squeezing the wrinkled skin in a rough hold. he hisses through his teeth when he traces his middle finger a little lower, rubbing slowly at the sensitive skin of his taint just like you do for him. 

“baby, fuck.” his words are whispered, drowned out by the clapping of sweaty skin and your delicious moans that his mind conjured up. a dirty movie just for his viewing. 

he finally takes hold of his cock, knobby fingers curling around the head and soothing downwards to spread precum down his length. chan’s hips raise into his grip at the same time you fuck yourself back on him in his fantasy. 

“my pussy feels so goo-o-od, daddy,” your voice says. it’s frantic, mumbled pathetically due to the fact that your cheek is squished against the mattress. the force of his thrusts shunts your body up towards the headboard, but you’re held in place by chan’s strong grip. 

he slows down, and it pulls a pathetic sob from your lips. chan pulls his cock almost all the way from your cunt before slowly, so slowly, sliding back inside balls deep. you quake when his balls mash tight against your swollen clit, the feeling of his cock so deep inside is so overwhelming that you struggle to get your arms up under you so that you can scramble uselessly up the bed. 

“don’t run, don’t fucking run, take what i give you, yeah?” 

chan manhandles you back by the hips until he’s pressed all the way inside again, and that’s when he swings his leg around. even in his fantasy, he can feel the texture of your pretty hair and the heat radiating from your face. 

the scene in his head makes chan throw an arm over his face while his other hand speeds up on his cock. he’s so wet now that his fist makes a slick noise every time it moves, the tip of his dick a leaky faucet. if anyone were to walk by his door there’s no doubt what he’s getting up to. 

“daddy?!” you cry, gasping. your hands scramble to grip at the sheets. 

“stay still. stay right there, baby, i don’t wanna hurt you,” he grunts. it takes a moment to get his rhythm going again, not used to this position, but he’s a quick learner. he can feel the way you try to nod your head under the weight of his foot, and it’s so sweet the way your breath catches in your throat. 

if he were any meaner he’d press his foot against you rougher, mess up your hair so it tangles and sticks to your teary, ruddy cheek. 

“so good, sweetie, you’re doing so good.”

“so good, sweetie, you’re doing so good,” chan whispers aloud. if he keeps his eyes closed and focuses on the pictures in his head, it’s almost like he can feel the tight grip of your little cunt on his cock instead of his fist. 

“‘m doing so good,” you whimper. “c’n i cum for you, please? please can i cum, daddy? daddydaddydaddy.” your fingers wrap around his ankle and - 

chan cums with a choked groan. his almond eyes flutter open as sticky cum oozes in ropes against his taut, heaving abs. he slows the speed of his fist but continues touching himself until his hips are kicking in overstimulation. 

he lays there for a moment and focuses on the cum cooling onto his abdomen, refusing to acknowledge the dregs of embarrassment yet that are creeping into his relaxed state of mind. did he really just get off to that? did he really just get off to a perverted fantasy about stepping on the love of his life? 

all of a sudden, like the angel you are, your voice cuts through his thoughts. a beacon of light, a lone lighthouse in the fog of his stormy sea. funnily enough, you had mentioned this after a particularly frenzied round of sex, and he’s never forgotten it. 

don’t let your shame get in the way of something you think you might really enjoy. 

you’re almost bouncing in his lap when he finally tells you he’s down to try it. your excitement is palpable, and he can’t help but smile with you. 

the both of you are nearly naked when he tosses you on your bed and climbs on top of you. you can’t help but wriggle, the only thing that’s left on your body is your pants. 

“you gonna be rough with me, channie?” you ask, coy. he doesn’t grace you with an answer, but he does flip you onto your stomach before crawling down the bed and slowly easing your pants down. he stops before he pulls them all the way down your ass, pausing to press heated kisses to the fat of your cheeks. 

“lift up on your knees, baby. yeah, ‘s good,” chan coaxes. with your pants still bunched up under your ass, he helps you situate yourself on your knees. he was expecting for you to rise onto your palms too, but your upper body remains flat against the mattress. your ass is presented to him on a platter. he tugs your pants down further so that they’re stuck around your thighs. 

you sigh at the first touch of his warm tongue to your cunt. he eats you out like he’s ravenous, shaking his head against you to get his tongue deeper while his hands grip your asscheeks to keep you steady. you know he likes to be smothered like this, the meat of your pussy lips bracketing his tongue so you’re all he can taste, all he can smell. 

he left your pants around your thighs for a reason; you can’t spread your legs like you want. you squirm, whining pitifully in your throat while your movements are restricted, and chan just huffs a smug laugh against your sloppy wet pussy. 

chan pulls away for a moment to hook two bony fingers in your clenching hole, kissing your thighs and your asscheeks as he makes his way somewhere else. 

your mouth opens in a silent moan, chin quivering and eyebrows furrowing when chan sucks a wet kiss onto your asshole. 

“o-oh, chan, channie,” you finally moan, and he responds with his own. his fingers fuck you with precision while his tongue circles the furl of your littlest hole until he pulls away to speak. 

“‘s not my name,” he mumbles. his ears heat up. 

“christopher. chris? chris, you’re so good to me.” a whine, pitched high and needy. 

“one more try, baby. you know what my name is, yeah?” 

he curls his two fingers deliciously in your pussy and returns his mouth to your asshole, flicking rapidly and then sucking around the pucker in a messy kiss. his lips smack against you so perfectly that your brain nearly shuts off. 

“da- daddy! daddy, you’re my daddy,” you cry, legs still uselessly fighting against the waist of your pants to try and spread yourself for him. chan grips your wrist and presses it to your lower back when your hand flies back to attempt to spread your ass open. 

“yeah. yeah. that’s right, baby. and i’m- daddy’s gonna fuck you now, okay?” 

he pulls your pants the rest of the way off and you’re presenting yourself again like it’s your favorite thing to do. face down, ass up, ready and waiting for him. chan doesn’t waste anymore time before he mounts you, pressing his hands to the arch of your back and making it bow deeper as he sheaths himself inside your warmth. 

“big- big cock, daddy.” 

“big ‘cause you like it like that.” 

he’s right, your daddy’s dick is big and you love it. 

he waits until you’re relaxing into the sheets to start a cruel pace, leaning over your back to brush his fingers through your hair while he works his hips. his mind is almost blissfully blank, the only voice in his head telling him to fuck you better, fuck you like you deserve, give you what you asked for. 

it almost happens like it did in his fantasy, a particularly deep thrust sends you scrambling up the bed and rubbing frantically at your pulsing clit while he follows behind you. 

“no no no, don’t. stay still, just take it. i’m not done yet, yeah? you’ve gotta- gotta be good and take it.”  

it’s not nearly as smooth as it was in his head, nothing ever is and probably never will be, but he successfully swings his leg around and plants his foot on your head. his hamstring burns, thighs quivering for a moment before he takes a deep breath and thrusts himself fully inside again. 

“ohmygoddaddy,” you wheeze. “oh my god, daddy! oh my god, oh fuck.” he can feel the way your cunt clenches on him frantically. chan stays frozen for a moment, waiting for you to kick at him or whimper out your safeword, but neither come. he feels your pretty hair under the sole of his foot, feels the heat radiating from your sweaty skin. “please, that’s so fucking hot! you’re so fucking hot.” 

your voice is throaty and desperate, and it sends chan into a frenzy. 

chan lifts up on his knee so he can fuck you harder, hovering over your back and planting both hands beside your shoulder. it’s a stretch, but he finds that he likes it. he fucks you like a dog, hips rutting roughly and leg hiked up so he can push your face into the mattress with his foot just like you wanted. 

“such a- hah, haaaah, pretty mess for me,” chan moans. his chest is flushed pink with exertion. he’s used to it flushing pink with embarrassment, but there’s no embarrassment or shame to be found here, not today. “pretty mess on my cock. love you. baby, love you.” 

if he looked down, there’d be a sweet ring of cream around his cock, your pussy so sloppy wet and creamy that you’ve left your mark on him. 

you’re being fucked so hard your head should be bobbing with the movement, but you’re held firmly in place by chan’s foot. you whimper when he adjusts his stance and his heel presses into the plush of your sweat-sticky cheek. 

“daddy, da- daddy. daddy,” you repeat. you just want to say his name. chan can see your face clearly from where he’s hovering above you and slightly to the side. you can barely keep your eyes open, and they’re swimming when you do, gaze loopy and delirious. you’re drooling against the mattress, lips open and plump and squished slightly from the weight of his foot on your precious cheek. 

“what does daddy need to do?” he breathlessly asks. “are you still with me, sweetheart?”

you rush to answer, tongue heavy and words slurring when you tell him that you’re “right here with you, daddy.” 

it takes everything in him not to growl like a damn animal. you’re so fucked out on his cock that he’ll never forget it, so perfect and dirty and darling. he can already feel his heavy balls tightening when they slap against your clit, he’s so ready to feed you full of all his cum, but he has to get you there first. you’re squeezing his cock so tight that he knows it won’t take much more. 

“fuck. fuck, whose hole is this? tell me whose it is.” 

“‘s your hole, daddy. daddy’s hole. just- just yours. do you like it?” you ask him so sweetly he has to giggle, and all you can do is whine. chan’s arms almost give out when your fingers wrap around his ankle and stroke lightly at the skin. 

“baby, i love it. love this pussy, love everything about you, nnnuh, come on. come on, do it. cum for me. daddy’s s-so proud of you, you’re perfect.” 

you almost dislodge him when you cum, shivering so hard in pleasure that your body starts to buck. chan lifts his foot from your head and ignores the ache in his thigh in favor of holding you in his arms while you cum, hips still thrusting so he can help you ride it out. 

“you too, cum in me, please? please, daddy. i want your cum so bad.” your eyes are almost rolling in your head, but you pucker your lips for a kiss and chan’s gone. 

he turns your head so he can lick inside of your mouth. your pulsating pussy still milking him for all he’s worth, he’d be crazy not to give it to you. he cums with a loud groan, so loud that it’s hardly muffled by the smacking of your lips, and he stills inside of you. chan can feel his thigh shaking against the back of yours. 

you’re a little out of it, he can tell. you coo sadly when his softening cock slips out of you as he slowly rolls you onto your back, but your lips quirk up in a loopy smile when he cups your cheeks in his hands to help you focus your gaze on him. 

“my heart. look at me? gosh, you’re so fucking pretty.” 

your lashes flutter, and chan smiles. 

#this fic changed me as a person #he’s so perfect #chris is a FREAK and i will die on this hill #a romantic one which makes him even more hsjdksndkhjka #i need him carnally HELPPP

[vsmvz]

BANG CHAN'S HANDS ~ A CONCEPT

[vsmvz]

note: i am back again with my boring smut, courtesy of the Lip Ring Devastation that occurred yesterday (do not look at me).

smut right under the cut. minors dni.

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

minho, who looks like a god, absolutely delectable with a lip ring clasped around his full bottom lip. you don't know whose idea it was to have him adorn that sinful piece of jewelry, but you'd like to thank your lucky stars that they put it on him.

minho, who's running purely on adrenaline and always reaches for you in times like these to help him release his excessive energy, and you're always eager to help (especially when he looks like sex on legs).

minho, who grabs your waist the second he enters your shared hotel room and kisses you breathlessly with the lip ring still on. in his haste, he doesn't seem to remember that it's still there, but you'd gasp at the unfamiliar sensation, a little weird at first but you'd quickly find yourself with your thighs pressed together desperately, holding him closer by the nape of his neck so you could suck on his bottom lip, tracing the dainty jewelry with your tongue.

minho, who's got your clothes - and his - off in record time and crawls between your open legs until his face is level with your core, licking his lip in anticipation only to be reminded that the ring is still cuffed on his mouth. when he goes to remove it, you'd stop him with a hand on his shoulder, clenching around nothing when the metal catches the dim light emanating from the lamp on the bedside table. "keep it on," you'd say, and he'd be a little surprised at first, but then a cocky look would find its way onto his face. he certainly has no qualms about it as long as you want it.

minho, who eats you like a man starved, licking into you just the way you like, teasing your slippery clit with the tip of his tongue while his fingers scissor in and out of you. you'd pull on his hair and grind against his face, but it's not until he languidly kisses your bundle of nerves that you keen out a particular noise that he seldom hears. the coolness of the jewelry on his lip feels heavenly in contrast with his hot mouth, makes the pleasure skyrocket throughout your entire body.

minho, who does it again just to test your reaction, and is delighted when the same sound involuntarily drawls from your lips. it turns him on so much that it's almost painful, that it makes him rut into the sheets to alleviate some of the throbbing pressure.

minho, whose smirk you can feel against you where he makes a show of pressing his lips to your cunt, sliding the ring through your folds and to your clit repeatedly, dead set on making you come as hard as he can.

minho, who wears the proudest look on his face after you've squirted all over him, and kisses you deeply afterward so you could suck on his bottom lip and taste yourself on the lip ring where it's coated in your essence.

minho, who pounds you into the mattress without mercy for hours that night, and every time he kisses you, you would clench around his length impossibly hard as you outline the ring with your tongue; who makes a mental note to take the jewelry with him before the two of you go back home.

[vsmvz]

spring has sprung

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!, public sex, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, begging, creampie

a/n: to the lovely anon who sent me the ask abt chan fucking you while you’re on a picnic and you’re wearing a pretty lil sundress……. hi <3 u probably just wanted a little blurb but well here’s This instead lmao. nothing much but i hope u enjoy!!

“you’re spoiling me today!” he grins. 

chan’s dimples pop when he looks at you. he tongues his cheek as he leans back onto the quilted blanket and props himself up on his elbows. 

it’s true. he is being spoiled, but that’s your favorite way for him to be. chan loves intimate dates like this, tucked away from prying eyes and busy streets. he’s talked about how much he loves picnics before. the wistfulness in his eyes was so all-encompassing when he told you they reminded him of warm weather and home that you knew you had to do this for him. 

chan looks handsome and proud as he lazes on the blanket you’ve laid out. a heart-shaped, brown wicker basket sits to the side filled with finger foods and other snacks, alongside a homemade pitcher of pineapple lemonade. you’ve pulled out all the stops. 

how he can look so smug while his ears burn bright pink is amazing to you. he’s cute. he’s sexy. he’s so chan. you’re going to keep him. 

“show me again, will you?” 

you’re propped up on your palms across from him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his question. chan giggles quietly at you and reaches out to run a strong hand up your naked calf. 

it’s easy to do as you’re asked. you’d tease him a little more if your heart weren’t pounding so hard in your chest and butterflies weren’t fluttering in your belly, but you never can seem to help yourself when it comes to chan. 

your legs part on their own accord, falling open all namby-pamby while you shake your head to move your hair out of your face. the thin, yellow dress you're wearing bunches around your waist to give chan the perfect view of your bare cunt, glistening wet and sweet in the warm sunlight. 

chan sucks a heavy breath through his teeth that makes your stomach swoop, and his knobby fingers walk their way to where you’re petal pink and wanting. 

the first touch of his thumb to your clit has your back bowing. as soon as the touch is there though, it’s gone. chan sucks his thumb into his mouth and hums at your taste, but he’s quick to bring his now slick digit back to your pussy. this time it’s smoother, wetter, and your fingers clench themselves into the blanket below you. 

“look at that,” he breathes. you do, bringing a hand up to pull your dress taut to your skin so that you can see chan rubbing slowly at your puffy clit without interruption. 

“d’you like it?” 

it’s a bit of a silly question, but you want to hear him talk more. 

he was just happy to get out of the studio for a little while and relax with his favorite person, so you know he wasn’t expecting this lovely little surprise. 

“i really, really like it. look at your little clit, oh my gosh. you’re perfect, baby.” 

his voice is quiet, focused solely on touching you so good that your legs threaten to close. he bites his bottom lip to try and contain his smile, but he can’t when he notices how shaky your legs are already. keeping his thumb where it is, chan rolls to the side so he’s closer to your cunt. 

you’re not expecting him to lean in and take a long whiff of where you’re leaking for him, and you try to keep the embarrassed squeal that threatens to leave your lips at bay. 

“christopher!” you cry, and all he does is giggle when you pull the cap off his head and hit him with it. “you’re a freak!” 

“heh. yeah, maybe. ceebs though.” 

the breath gets knocked from your lungs when he leans in again, this time only to lave his tongue around his thumb that’s still rubbing slow circles on your clit. you’re so lucky you chose somewhere private to have your little lunch date, otherwise everyone within walking distance would hear the way you keen for him. 

you lean your weight back on your palm and use your other hand to spread the lips of your pussy for him. he pats your thigh in thanks, shaking his head to bury his mouth deeper in your warmth. 

“that’s- oh, that’s it. suck on it like that, channie, please!” 

not one to tease when he’s just as turned on as you are, chan sucks your clit into his mouth. he sucks rhythmically, batting his tongue against it every now and then so perfectly that it makes your hole clench in desperation. chan turns his head to the side, nose pressed flush against the crease of your thigh, and flicks his tongue against you quickly. 

“mhm?” his question is muffled. your fingers have tangled themselves in his hair; he knows. chan’s breath is hot against your pussy, and you can feel yourself dripping sweat due to the combination of the warm sunlight and the pleasure your man is giving you. 

“mhm,” you whine back. your ass clenches as you raise your hips to try and get closer to his face. his mouth is so good, his lips are so plump and his tongue is so deft that no matter how much he gives you, you can’t get enough. “baby. baby, channie. need- need your cock in me so bad.” 

you sound almost winded, but chan’s just as worked up as you are. his eyes were closed, and he had to blink several times to focus his gaze on your face. 

“right here?” he asks, still pressed flush against your cunt. 

it’s secluded enough. honestly though at this point, it wouldn’t really matter to you. you need him so bad you’d let him have you almost anywhere. 

you answer him by tugging the top of your sundress down so that your tits spill over the thin cotton of the cups. chan looks to your face in awe, grin ever growing. as if in sync, you both reach for your newly exposed nipples at the same time. chan sits up and pinches one of the perky little buds between his fingers while you tweak the other one. 

“you’ve got a little something…” your sentence trails off, but you move your hand away to point at the lower half of his face and draw your finger in a half-assed, messy circle. 

his lips and chin are soaked, wet with you and his own spit. chan just smiles, and his precious dimples appear again. 

“oh really? i wonder what from.” 

he lays you fully on the blanket and smooths down your hair so it doesn’t touch the grass. you swear your heart skips a beat when he gently combs at your hair with his knobby fingers. chan is so thoughtful, so kind all the time that you never fail to remember how blessed you are. 

the taste of you is still strong on his tongue when he leans down to kiss you. chan brackets your body with his, strong arms framing your shoulders while he kisses you deeply and wholly. chan has a profound way of making you feel small and taken care of by how he carries himself, and this is no exception. 

you’re wetting the fabric of his shorts. you can tell by the way you rock against each other while you kiss. thank god his wardrobe still consists of so much black, otherwise you’d have to make him carry the picnic basket in front of him when you leave later. 

“please give me your cock,” you breathe against his lips. 

chan licks teasingly at the swell of your bottom lip but doesn’t wait for further instructions before he tugs his shorts down far enough to free his aching cock and balls. his cock is flushed a deep pink, the head a ruddy purple. 

“yeah? inside? right out here in the open?” 

you tilt your hips up, and chan’s eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths himself slowly inside until he’s settled balls deep. 

“ffffuck, shit,” he hisses. “this fucking pussy.” 

“mmm, your cock,” you echo, and he noses at your hairline.

it doesn’t take long before the echoes of your little wilderness tryst become frantic and loud. chan coaxes wet sounds from your cunt like it’s all he’s good for, bullying his cock inside so deep you swear you feel it in your throat. 

“y’look really pretty in this dress, did’ya know that?” his breathless question has you nodding your head. yes, you know. you wanted to look pretty for him. “good. ‘s good, you’re so pretty. hold- hold it, hold it up, yeah?” 

he wants to see. the skirt of your dress has already been flipped up, but you gather it and hold it closer to your body so chan can watch himself fuck you. you take it a step farther and slip the tiny straps of the top down your arms so you can pull it further down your body. the dress is bunched in the middle of your stomach now, your bouncing tits and sopping cunt free for chan’s eyes to roam. 

his thrusts turn sharp, hard. you know he’s close.

“you’ll cum inside me? you should. i need it inside, okay?” 

chan grunts like he’s in pain, and you moan in response when his top lip curls in a snarl. your hands map his broad back underneath the cotton of his t-shirt, reveling in how slick and warm his skin is from the sun and exertion. 

“how much?”

“all of it! i need- need it all inside! ‘til i’m dripping, please!” you wail. chan presses sloppy kisses to your heaving chest as his hand snakes down to roughly rub at your clit. it’s like an electric shock, and you wrap your arms and legs around his sturdy body to keep yourself tethered to earth. tethered to him. 

chan’s cock throbs. his balls ache. you want him to stuff you full of his cum right here, and he wants to give it to you. 

“alright, alright- don’t- fuck! fuck, keep clenching. gonna cum for you then. you gonna take it? just like you wanted, yeah?” 

chan rocks forward sharply and stills flush against the heat of your cunt. his balls are so heavy, and they ache to empty themselves inside your warmth. chan cums in ropes inside just as you asked, groaning against the clammy skin of your chest.

“baby come on, come on. do it, i can feel you clenching. you want it so bad, baby. there. there, oh that’s it, huh? come for me, sweetheart.” 

you shudder underneath him as you cum on his cock and his fingers, and chan settles more of his body weight on you just like he knows you crave after an intense orgasm. he smooths his fingers over your throbbing clit until you kick your foot lightly at his ass to let him know you’re done. 

chan slowly lifts himself up and sits back on his heels. the trees around you block most of the sunlight now, but you have to shade your eyes so you can see what your boyfriend is up to. his softened cock slips from your cunt. 

“push it out, sweetheart.” 

you hum a little, giggling with glee as you contract your cunt and feel his sticky cum begin to ooze from your used hole. 

[vsmvz]

Pearl Necklace

❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Baby…” 

Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”

“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”

The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.

“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”

Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”

“Oh?” 

Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.

“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”

You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”

A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.

“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”

“I do.”

Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.

“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”

“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”

Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.

“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”

You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.

“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.

He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”

Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.

Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.

The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.

“Ready to make that necklace for me?”

His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”

Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.

Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.

“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”

The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.

He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.

“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”

Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.

“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”

Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[vsmvz]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐛𝐜

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; virgin!chan ; experienced!reader ; minsung if you squint (sorry nari my girl) ; mention of male masturbation ; dirty talk ; corruption kink kinda ; dry humping ; cumming in pants ; mention of a handjob ; nipple play ; mentions of porn and chan admitting he watches it ; clit play ; oral (m receiving) ; cum eating ; chan is self conscious and thinks too much ; confessions ; phone sex (video call sex technically) ; masturbation (both m and f) ; oral (f receiving) ; protected sex ; aftercare kinda ; they’re so beautifully in love and my heart hurts ; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 15k

inspired by this ask, it’s part of the same au.

🏷️: @bookobsessedfreak

𝐚/𝐧: this was supposed to be a 3-4k words drabble…… :) a huge thank you to @jilixthinker for beta reading this and for her feedback and support ♡

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 18+, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

ᥫ᭡

Chan is spiralling. 

His hands are fidgety, and just can’t stop bouncing his leg, which is pissing his friends, especially Minho, off. None of his other friends are really paying attention to him, though. They’re all minding their business - Jisung and Felix are playing some dumb videogame on the tv as per usual, and Seungmin is sulking on the couch because, well, he’s the one who lost first and now he’s gotta wait for his turn again.

And Chan… well, Chan is kind of panicking right now. 

“Dude, stop, really. It’s annoying,” Minho rolls his eyes, slapping Chan’s thigh to get his friend to stop bouncing his leg relentlessly. 

“‘M sorry, dude, ‘m just anxious I guess.” 

Minho stays awfully quiet, which kind of upsets Chan, who furrows his eyebrows confused, staring at his younger friend. 

“What?” Minho asks, eventually lifting his gaze from his phone and staring back at Chan. 

“You’re not gonna ask me why I’m anxious?” 

Minho shrugs, his gaze drops back on his phone screen. “Eh. You’re gonna tell me anyway, aren’t you?”

Chan tilts his head to the side, confused. Minho is a good friend, and Chan trusts him. Maybe talking about it with Minho will help Chan, who knows. The older feels suddenly much more nervous at the thought of voicing his insecurities out loud, but at the same time he knows he needs it. 

“I have a date tomorrow.”

Minho frowns. “With that Y/N girl, right?” Minho asks, he knows his friend has been seeing you for a couple of months now. Chan nods. “Okay, and? Is that why you’re nervous? You’ve seen her before.”

That’s the problem, actually, Chan thinks. 

“She, uh… she doesn’t know,” Chan mumbles, toying with the black ring on his pointer finger, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor. 

“Doesn’t know what?” Minho hates that he practically has to force the words out of Chan’s mouth. 

“That I’m, uh, a… that I’m inexperienced,” Chan blurts out. 

“Ah, that you’re a virgin, you mean,” Minho paraphrases, his voice is incredibly loud and Chan cringes, because that word, virgin, makes him feel like a complete loser. Deep down, he knows he’s not a loser just because he still hasn’t gotten his dick wet at the venerable age of twenty-six, but at the same time he does feel a bit self-conscious about it. 

Seungmin’s head snaps in Chan’s direction, and Changbin’s does the same. Even Jisung and Felix stop focusing on the videogame for a good couple of seconds. 

“Yes, uh… that,” Chan clears his throat. “I haven’t told her yet.”

Minho’s eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth falls open as he lifts his head to look at Chan. “Oh. Why?”

“I don’t know! I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me, I guess,” he sighs, slumping on the couch, feeling absolutely hopeless. 

“Why would she think less of you?” Changbin butts in, significantly confused. 

“Because I’m twenty-six and I still haven’t had sex?” He asked, mentally adding a duh?, as if the answer was the most obvious ever. 

“But she likes you,” Minho comments, “I don’t think she’ll care about it, if she’s anything like you described her.”

And Chan knows Minho’s probably right, but can’t help but feel insecure about it nonetheless. He just doesn’t want to give you a series of disappointing sexual experiences, or embarrass himself in front of you if you’ll ever decide to sleep with him. Not that he’s expecting you to - he’s just thinking of possibilities and eventualities right now. 

He’s not even thinking anymore, he’s overthinking. 

“I know, I know. But the internet is full of girls disappointed inside the bedroom, I wouldn’t want her to experience the same thing with me.”

“You haven’t had sex, like, ever. It’s not like you’d disappoint her intentionally, Chan,” Changbin points out. 

“So you’re saying I would disappoint her.”

“No, Changbin is saying you shouldn’t stress over this. Nobody’s first time is earth-shattering or life-changing,” Minho rolls his eyes. 

“How do you know? You haven’t had sex either,” Chan tuts, crossing his arms over his chest, kind of offended. 

“Incorrect,” Minho argues, lifting his pointer finger matter-of-factly. “I haven’t had sex with a girl yet. I’ve had plenty of sex with boys.” 

“Boys? Plural?” Jisung’s head snaps in the older’s direction so fast he almost breaks his neck, quirking an eyebrow at Minho. “And what do you mean yet?”

“Fine,” Minho grumbles, “I’ve had plenty of sex with a boy.”

“You didn’t answer my question - what do you mean yet?” Jisung insists. 

“Jisung, please. We’re trying to help Chan here, not everything’s about you,” Minho sighs. “Anyways, where were we?”

Chan blinks, gaze snapping from Minho to Jisung and then back on Minho. Surprisingly enough, though, none of the other boys seems surprised. “I, uh… I’ll ignore your unexpected and casual coming out for now, and the whole… best-friends-who-are-apparently-fucking thing,” he clears his throat, “you were… reassuring me, I think. Nobody’s first time is perfect and blah, blah, blah.” 

“Ah, yeah. Don’t stress over it, dude. Just try not to cum as soon as you put it in,” Minho shrugs. “Oh, and don’t forget the condom. Be responsible, dude. You know how to put it on, rig-“

“Okay, okay! Enough!” Chan shouts, embarrassed, as he blushes of a deep shade of red until even his ears look like they’re on fire, waving his hands in front of Minho to get him to stop talking. 

ᥫ᭡

Chan feels like an idiot, and if his friends were here now they’d totally make fun of him. No, no, scratch that, they wouldn’t let him live this down ever again. 

For starters, he spent an indecent amount of time on his phone, online, looking for the best brands of condoms, describing in specific details how his dick looks so that the search bar at one point read “which condoms for 5” length 2,5” width penis” and yes - he literally measured it. He visited dozens of different websites ad clicked on countless of links, desperately looking for the best condoms he could find. Eventually, he bought two different boxes online, and cringed reaaaaally bad when the delivery guy smirked at him and gave him the thumbs up. 

And now he’s in his bed. The bedroom door is locked - he’s made sure of that, with his sweats pulled down his legs together with his underwear - free, hard cock resting peacefully on his abdomen. Chan feels incredibly stupid, holding two different kinds of condoms between his fingers, trying to figure out which one he should try on first. When he takes another glance at his dick, another question pops up in his head - should he shave? Usually, he just trims his pubic hair from time to time when he’s in the shower, but maybe you’d like him fully bare? Guys in porn usually shave their cocks, so maybe that’s what girls prefer - he truly has no idea, and he’s not gonna ask his friends for advice, it’s already embarrassing enough. Why is he even thinking about all this? He was just supposed to practice how to put on a stupid condom!

“Okay, okay, I can do it. It’s easy. It’s supposed to be easy, I mean, everybody does this, it can’t be that complicated. Well, not everyone, otherwise you wouldn’t have all these unplanned pregnancies, but -“ he cuts himself off, realizing he was rambling too much already. 

Chan is kinda ashamed to admit that yes, he even watched a tutorial to figure out how to do this properly, so he’s fully prepared and knows exactly what he’s supposed to do. He tears the wrapper open, careful not to tear the rubber, and then pulls it out, cursing under his breath when it slips from his fingers due to its slipperiness. He picks it up again, and places it on the tip of his dick, pinching the tip as he rolls it onto his length easily. It feels… weird. Not bad weird, just… weird, but at least it’s easy, just like that article online read, and he’s sure he’ll have no trouble in doing this if you’ll ever sleep together. 

Sometimes, Chan can’t help but wonder what it feels like - to have sex. Being so close, so intimate with someone, literally being inside of someone. When he thinks about it, it’s you the someone he imagines as he strokes his cock, mostly late at night, when his roommate Changbin’s asleep. He’d lie in his bed, legs spread, fully naked. 

Chan’s been jerking off a lot lately, two times per day at least. He’d grab his cock, squeezing it by the base, whimpering at the feeling of his balls kind of tightening. And then he’d start stroking himself again and again and again until his eyes roll in the back of his head and he cums with a choked sound, biting on his lower lip until he can almost taste blood. 

Then, he usually showers and changes his clothes, and feels kinda embarrassed about what he did, ignoring the fact that it’s completely normal to fantasize about someone. He still feels guilty nonetheless, completely unaware that you, in the privacy of your own bedroom, do the exact same every other night - pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. 

ᥫ᭡

The night of your date Bang Chan learns two things. The first is that ‘Netflix and chill’ doesn’t actually mean, you know, Netflix and chill. It means sex, apparently, and everyone knows except him. The second one is - he’s absolutely whipped for you already. 

He’d been nervous the whole day, trying on four or five different outfits and eventually asking Changbin for advice, and he’d sprayed on so much cologne he had to literally open the bedroom windows in order not to get intoxicated. He spent an indecent amount of time under the shower, washing his hair two or three times just in case - you’d once told him you loved the scent of his shampoo. 

When he saw you, the anxiety suddenly kind of… left his body. All the nervousness he’d been feeling suddenly vanished, and his entire body and brain was filled with excitement and happiness and all kinds of positive, good feelings. You greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he never wanted to let go. 

And then, when he drove you back to your place, things got kind of… hot, and he wasn’t expecting it at all because he thought that the expression you used, Netflix and Chill, actually meant “watching a good movie and cuddle on the couch” - but it didn’t. It didn’t, because as soon as you both lay on the couch, you started making out like two horny teenagers unable to keep their hands for themselves. 

Which led to… now. 

His lips are on yours, have been for the past ten minutes. The movie’s still playing, but neither of you are paying any attention. You’re both red in the face, your lips are swollen and wet and tingling, but neither of you has ever felt this good. You like Chan. You like him very much, and you want to take things to the next level - maybe not all the way, not tonight at least. 

You’re still kissing Chan, tiny little hmphs leaving his mouth, when you wrap your hand around his wrist and bring his hand on your thigh. And then you move it up, up, up, until… Chan’s breath hitches as his thumb brushes your clothed groin. You take the lead, unbuttoning your jeans, and then, wrapping your hand around his wrist once more, you bring his hand to the front of your panties, and he freezes. He literally stops moving, he stops kissing you and you can clearly hear the sound of his heartbeat pumping loud in his chest. 

“Do you… want to?” You pull back to whisper on his lips. Chan’s arms and hands start to tremble. He blinks rapidly, and the next thing he does, stupidly, is shaking his head as a no. Could he be more stupid? “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry,” you mumble, letting go of his hand, finding yourself pretty stupid all of a sudden.

“No! No, I… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Chan is quick to say, placing his hand on your thigh when you try to pull away after unbuttoning your jeans. “It’s just… there’s something I have to tell you.” 

You’re expecting the worst - maybe he’s tired of you and wants to break up. 

“Uh-oh,” you crack a nervous smile, fidgeting with your fingernails and your cuticles as you wait for him to speak. 

“No, no, it’s nothing bad, I promise. Well, it depends on you, actually… if you think it’s bad, then…” he rambles, toying with the bracelet wrapped around his wrist as he speaks. 

“Chan, relax. Just tell me.” He mumbles something so quietly you have no idea what he just said. “What?”

“I’ve… never done this before,” he blushes until the redness reaches the tip of his ears as he reveals the big secret he’s been keeping for weeks, “I’ve never done anything… sexual, actually.”

You’re beyond shocked because, well - he’s sexy. Girls probably throw themselves at him, how is it possible that he’s never fingered a girl before? It kind of turns you on even more, though. He’s so hot and so caring and such a gentleman and he’s… a virgin. And you’re dating him. It shouldn’t turn you on, right? You feel kind of a perv right now. 

While you’re getting lost in your train of thought, Chan is panicking because, well, you haven’t really said anything since he confessed his secret to you. “I’m sorry, I- I probably shouldn’t have said anything, it was stupid-“

“No!” You exclaim, interrupting him. “No, Chan, it’s okay. I promise, you just… surprised me. It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with it, of course. I’m sorry if I pressured you into anything.” 

“You didn’t,” Chan reassures you, caressing your thigh with his thumb. “You didn’t, I promise. I was just caught off guard, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen tonight.”

You nod. “I know, I know, it was sudden. It’s just… it may sound weird, but I really like your outfit. You’re, like, super hot and I got a little carried away I guess.”

Chan is flustered, and he scratches the back of his neck as he lowers his gaze shyly. “Uh… thank you. You’re really beautiful, too, you know? I was left… speechless when I saw you tonight. You’re stunning,” he bites his lip, looking at you, and then his face drops. “I-I mean, not only tonight. You’re always stunning, I just mea-“ 

You cut him off by placing your lips on his in a tender kiss, and he relaxes under your touch. “You’re cute, you know that?” You smile, kissing him some more. “Are you okay with us kissing?”

“I’m more than okay with kissing you. It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready for the whole thing yet, but we can… do other stuff if you want.” 

“Are you sure?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he nods. “Other stuff like…?”

He’s impossibly red in the face by now. “Ah, like… maybe we could, uh, touch each other? O-Over the clothes.”

You smile at him. “I know I already told you, but… you’re so cute. C’mere.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to your body, kissing his lips again and again. In a matter of seconds, you find yourself laying on your back, sprawled on your couch, with Chan’s body between your legs - you both gasp at the feeling of his erection pressed on your body. 

“Can I… can I kiss your neck?” Chan politely asks, and you can’t help but bite your lip, nodding at him. He latches his lips on your neck with a confidence he never showed before, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your skin. 

You wrap your fingers around his wrist once more, and catch him by surprise when you place the palm of his hand on your boob, over the fabric of your t-shirt. Chan whimpers, involuntarily jerking his hips, forcing his hard-on on your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure, you beg him to do it again. He does it again, and his own eyes flutter shut because it feels so damn good, even though his pants are definitely too tight for this. 

“You feel so good, oh my God,” you mumble, running your fingers up and down his spine, arching your back and rolling your hips to meet his once again and Chan has to stop you. Like, seriously, he has to stop you otherwise he’d cum in his pants and fucking embarrass himself. 

He’s about to tell you when you unexpectedly move your hand to the front of his jeans, sliding it right in the middle of your bodies, and you cup him and squeeze him - and Chan fucking cums. He cums in his pants.

“Oh my- fuck. Fuck, fuck, it’s not happening,” he mumbles, hiding his face in your neck in pure shame. “It’s not happening, it’s not happening,” he repeats again and again and you’re confused. 

“Chan, what-“ and then you feel it - a warm feeling on your hand, his cock starting to soften. “Oh.” Chan wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “It’s okay, Chan. It’s fine, really.” 

“No, it’s not. It’s not. Fuck, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” he mumbles, getting up from the couch, looking down in horror just to find a large, wet patch on his blue jeans. He never wears blue jeans, for fuck’s sake - he always wears black skinny jeans, and the one time he decides to wear blue jeans he fucking cums in his pants after you’ve touched him for literally two seconds. “Oh my God.” He covers the front of his pants with his hand, mortified. “I… I have to leave. I’m so sorry.”

Chan leaves in a rush, excusing himself a million times even though you told him it’s completely fine, that you’re not weirded out by it or anything. He leaves even if you begged him not to, face red and pouting. He leaves, but the thought haunts him - he keeps relieving the scene in his head throughout the whole drive back home. He just wants to shower, go to bed and fucking forget what happened back at your place. There’s no way you’ll ever want to see him again after tonight, he’s sure of it. 

When he opens the door to his place, he’s hoping Changbin’s not home. But of course he is - lying on the couch as he watches some stupid reality show. His friend snaps his head in Chan’s direction with a smirk on his face. 

“How did the date go? Got your dick wet?” Changbin suggestively wiggles his eyebrows. Chan is still as red as a pepper in the face, and then Changbin sees it - it being the huge stain on his friend’s pants. “Oh. You did.”

ᥫ᭡

Chan is surprised you don’t think he’s a real loser, and that you actually want to see him again. 

You don’t even mention the accident, and Chan is really grateful for that, even though he still cringes when he thinks about it. However, when he told Changbin and Minho what had happened at your place, instead of making fun of him they told him it’s a completely normal and natural reaction. Up to that moment, Chan had been the only person to ever touch his cock, so it’s completely normal to feel extra stimulated when another person touches you, or something like that. He just remembers taking a huge sigh out of relief after that talk. 

You want to see Chan again and again and again. And you do. 

You go on fun dates - trying out new coffee shops and bakeries, or having nice and relaxing picnics and watch the sunset as Chan puts his arm around your shoulders, and you end up making out shamelessly in the backseats of his car in the empty parking lot of the movie theater instead of going in and actually watching the movie you’d planned to see that night, and you even dry hump again there, and this time you both cum in your pants. You cuddle, too, so much - Chan really loves physical affection and is really glad you do too, because he really loves wrapping his arms around you, or kissing your cheeks, or hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It’s like you were made for each other, Chan can’t help but think.

Chan is happy, unbelievably so. 

For the first time in his life he’s found a person, you, who understands him and makes him feel important and appreciated. He’s been told he’s hot by a relatively high number of girls before, but they all seemed to be after his body and nothing else, and that’s why he never took things further with any of them. Chan craves something more, he craves a connection. He craves true feelings and somebody who’ll listen to him rambling at the end of a bad day, somebody who loves him for who he is and doesn’t care about how he looks, somebody he can be himself with. 

He found that someone in you, he’s sure of that. 

You’ve been seeing each other for nearly three months now, but you’ve been nothing but perfect to him. Like that he told you he was having the worst day and was feeling so frustrated, and what you did was inviting him over to your place, where you greeted him with a basket of freshly baked pancakes with strawberries and blueberries as well as maple syrup. Then, you’d cuddled him the whole time he stayed at your place, lay on the couch under a warm blanket and put on his favorite movie to try to cheer him up. He’s really glad he’s found someone like you.

Chan has never had such deep feelings for someone before. He’s never even had a serious relationship before - you’re the first. 

How beautiful is it, falling in love with the right person? Sometimes, Chan really can’t believe his luck. He’d met you casually, none of it was planned, and he’s fully convinced that’s the beauty of it - the spontaneity is what makes everything a hundred times better. Chan met you on a rainy day and, ironically enough, as soon as his eyes met yours it stopped raining. 

He thinks it’s a casualty, you think it was fate. 

After wasting the best years of your life begging for the love of a person who clearly wasn’t right for you and who made you feel completely worthless, you believe the gods above sent you Chan as an apology for all the shit you went through in your life. Sometimes, you think you truly don’t deserve him and his kind heart, you don’t think you’re enough for him. Even though you never explicitly told him, at one point Chan could sense there was something up with you, and what really surprised you was his maturity, because he actually wanted to talk it through with you. He cuddled you and suggested the two of you watched a movie so that he could cuddle you, and he spent the whole time placing soft kisses on the top of your head and with his arm wrapped around your waist - until he fell asleep, that is.

That was the first time he slept at your place. Neither of you had planned it, it just happened - you had fallen asleep on the couch, snuggled up to each other, and when you woke up it was already nearly two a.m. and definitely too late for Chan to drive back home. That was also the time when you gave him his first handjob - well, the first handjob given to him by somebody who wasn’t his own hand. And even though you fell asleep right after cleaning him up, curled up to his side and hugging him from behind, Chan couldn’t sleep. In fact, he spent the whole night lying wide awake and staring at the ceiling, unable to stop thinking about what had happened mere minutes earlier. 

Yes, because that night something else had happened - you’d told Chan you might love him, and he’d told you the same. It was in the heat of the moment, words spoken when you were touching him and neither of you was thinking straight, but you’re sure he meant it - you surely did. How could you not love Chan? He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more, your sunshine in your darkest days and the most important person in your life. 

“Pretty?” Chan’s voice brings you back to reality. You blink a few times, turning to look at him. The room in the movie theater is almost full, but thankfully no one’s sitting next to you or Chan. “Do you not like the movie?” 

“No, no, it’s not that. Was distracted.”

“What’s distracting you, pretty?” He whispers, caressing your knuckles to soothe you. “Is there something wrong? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head as a no, and then you smile at him. “Was just thinking about you.” Thankfully, the room is dark, otherwise there’s no way he wouldn’t notice the blush on your cheeks. “How much I’m thankful to have you in my life.”

“Ah, pretty,” he squeaks, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed. He, too, is red in the face. “You caught me off guard, heh. I’m thankful, too, baby. You don’t know how much,” he kisses your shoulder, and squeezes your thigh. He’s unusually touchy these days - not that you mind it, of course.

That night, you don’t end up making out in the backseats of Chan’s car, surely because the parking lot isn’t empty at all, but mostly because Chan suggests going to your place after the movies, and by the way he keeps squeezing your thighs throughout the whole car ride, you kind of have the feeling you won’t be just making out tonight.

ᥫ᭡

Chan pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. 

“I kinda… want to, uh, you know, return the favor,” he bites his lip nervously, blushing a little. 

“Favor?” You quirk an eyebrow at him with a smirk on your face. 

Of course you know what he’s talking about. He’s talking about the other night, when he slept over for the first time and you gave him a handjob, taking things a step forward in your relationship, and to be honest - it was all you could think about for days. You even touched yourself in the shower a couple of times thinking of how his chubby cock felt in your hand as you stroked him. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Chan mumbles embarrassed, gaze dropping to where his hand is resting on your thigh. 

“Yeah, I know,” you tease him, “but I still want to hear you say it.”

He’s red in the face. 

“You’re cruel,” he whines. 

You shrug, “I just love seeing you squirm. So, what is it that you want to do to me?” You run your fingers up his arms, wrapping them around his biceps and biting your lip. He feels so big. 

“I wanna… I wanna make you cum,” he mumbles, still not looking at you. In fact, he’s looking at where his fingers are squeezing your thigh. “With my fingers.”

“That can be arranged,” you chuckle, placing two fingers under his chin and lifting his head to meet his eyes. Then, you kiss him on the lips and stand up, and he’s confused. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, hm?” 

Chan nods. His legs are shaky and feel kind of jelly as he follows you in your room and then on your bed, lying down next to you - his heart is beating incredibly fast in his chest. He’s never done anything like that, of course, and everything he knows about fingering comes either from porn or the online articles he’s read, and he’s scared he’s gonna mess up and he won’t be able to pleasure you the way he wants to. He knows he shouldn’t be so hard on himself, but he can’t really help it. He wants to make you feel good the same way you do him. 

Too lost in his own train of thought, he’s brought back to Earth when you take off your t-shirt in front of him - you’re wearing a bra, your favorite one actually, but Chan’s brain is already short-circuiting. His jaw drops, and he stares at your barely covered breasts like an animal in heat.

“You can touch, you know?” You tease him, grabbing him by the wrist, intertwining your fingers first and then guiding his hand to your chest until he cups one of your tits with his large palm. “You can do anything you want, Channie.”

He looks at you like a lost puppy, still pretty nervous about the whole thing, even though there’s a new feeling in his chest, a new desire that’s eating him alive. “You like it when… you know, I touch you here?” He squeezes your soft flesh lightly, careful not to be too rough because he knows it can be painful. 

You nod, nuzzling his cheek and kissing his jawline. “Yeah, I really like it. You can take the bra off, if you want to.”

Chan is about to see his very first pair of boobs, and maybe that’s why his hands are shaking like a leaf as he slides the straps of your bra down your arms. You caress his arm as he gently touches your skin, placing soft kisses on his temple to get him to relax, and once he’s done sliding both straps down your limbs, your reach behind your spine to unhook your bra, figuring it’d be much easier this way. When it comes off, Chan lets out a whimper as he bites on his lip, and then his eyes are back on yours. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he kisses your lips as his hand finds its way back on your chest, now touching you without the useless piece of fabric separating your bodies. 

“You’re just saying that because you just saw your first pair of boobs,” you chuckle. 

He shakes his head, “I’m saying that because it’s true. Oh, and by the way… I’m hoping it’ll be the only pair I’ll ever see in my life.” 

His words make your heart thump inside your chest, and you find yourself blushing at the implication - cheeks burning red, so you hide your face in his neck. “You can’t say things like that,” your voice comes out muffled by his t-shirt. 

“Why not? It’s true.” 

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple, but he surely is surprised when he hears you whimper and feels you tugging at his t-shirt. 

“D-Do that again,” you bite on his shoulder when he brushes your nipple once more. And once more. Chan finds out he really loves hearing you let out soft, pretty sounds for him - because of him. “Please… use your mouth, please,” you beg, clenching your thighs to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling between your legs. You can’t wait for him to finally touch you there. 

“My mouth?” He repeats, and you nod. 

“Just… your lips and tongue. Please,” your breathing starts to become more irregular. 

You let go of Chan’s shirt only to lie down with your back flat on the mattress, boobs on full display for Chan to admire and worship, even though he’s pretty clueless about what he’s supposed to do next, so you decide to guide him. He positions himself between your thighs.

“Start by kissing my neck,” you instruct, “and then move down. Just do whatever you want, really.” 

Chan latches his lips on your neck and you moan. Now it’s his turn to clench his thighs, squeezing his neglected cock. He kisses your collarbone hungrily, occasionally scraping it with his teeth clumsily, not realizing you love it. And when he finally starts kissing the soft skin of your boobs, the both of you let out a tiny gasp. 

“Like this?” He mutters against your flesh, not even thinking about pulling away from you.

You nod, burying your fingers in his hair while you grip the bedsheets with your other hand. “Yeah,” you sigh, “now l-lick. My nipple. Lick me there.”

The first swipe of Chan’s tongue on your sensitive nipple has you arching your back in desperate need for more. And he gives you exactly what you want, wrapping his hot lips around your hardened bud, still continuing to swirl his tongue around it. With a confidence he didn’t know he had within himself, he starts playing with the other one using his fingers, the same way he did before, just brushing it with his thumb - when he pinches it, you let out a tiny squeak, and he lifts his gaze to check if you’re alright. 

“Are you,” you mutter between deep breaths, “are you sure this is your first time doing this?” You chuckle, tugging at his hair softly.  

He blushes a little, then nods with his nipple still in his mouth, and it’s the hottest sight ever. But you need more. 

You wrap your fingers around Chan’s wrist, and then you start sliding his hand down your body, past your navel, until his fingers brushes the hem of your yoga pants. That’s when Chan’s breath hitches, and he looks at you like a kicked puppy, slightly panicking inside because he has no clue what to do. Well, technically he knows what he’s supposed to do, but practically… He adjusts himself on the mattress, removing his body from between your legs, and you whine at the loss of contact when he lets go of your nipple. 

“You still want to do this?” You ask him, and he nods. “Relax,” you tell him, noticing he’s been holding his breath, “you’ll do good. We’re taking this slow, remember? It’s not like I’m expecting you to be a pro at it.” 

He nods once again, but looks more convinced and confident this time. “I’m sure. I want to do this.”

You smile at him, kissing the tip of his nose, “you’re so cute.”

Hooking your fingers in each side of your yoga pants, you slide them past the curve of your ass and down your legs, taking them off for good and letting them fall on the floor without a care in the world. Chan bites his lip at the sight of your barely covered pussy, and the lacy material is kind of see-through, so he can take a glimpse of it. He’s still fully clothed beside you, while you have only your panties on. Before taking things further, he takes his t-shirt off in record time, revealing his naked torso to your eyes. 

“You look so handsome…” you whisper, tracing the outline of his abs with the tip of your fingers, hard under your touch. “You’re gonna let me ride your abs one day, yeah?”  You kiss him right on his pecs, unable to contain your eagerness. 

“Ride them?” He asks, pretty confused because how can someone ride abs? Is it actually a thing?

“Yeah, just let me sit on you and rub my clit on your abs until I make myself cum.”

Chan had never heard of such a thing before you explained it to him, and now he can’t physically wait to try it. He wants you to use his body in every possible way - you wouldn’t even have to ask, whatever you want to do to him, you can do it. He’s yours. 

“Oh. Of course you can,” his fingers brush your panties, and suddenly you’re remembered of what you were about to do before you let your hormones take over. 

“You can take them off,” you mumble on his skin, kissing him one last time on his collarbone, and he nods, beginning to slowly slide the lace down your legs, finally revealing your nakedness to his eyes. 

Chan has never seen a naked woman before, if porn doesn’t count, and maybe that’s why he literally can’t tear his eyes off you, off your bare pussy, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you everywhere, there, for hours, days even. He wants to do it slowly at first, peppering your skin with soft kisses, and they he’d want to devour you, he wants to kiss and lick and bite you until his lips physically hurt, until you both can’t take it anymore. 

Your panties are soon discarded on the floor after what feels like an eternity, but Chan’s still focused on looking at you. He looks at you as if you were a work of art, the most beautiful painting in a museum, as if you were the most perfect thing in the world and he’d ruin you with his goofy and inexperienced touch. His eyes move from your pussy to your boobs, and ultimately on your face. You’re naked in his arms. You’re letting him see the most intimate and private parts of you and he’s so flattered and honored and he just wants to kiss you and thank you for trusting him, even though he is the virgin. He doesn’t even care that other men saw you like this, he finds it completely irrelevant, because he knows that from now on it’s him and only him that’ll get to see you, touch you, kiss you and have you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he nuzzles your cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he lives the moment, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his. “Looks so pretty,” he mumbles, still looking at your pussy. 

You take his hand, that’s resting undisturbed on your thigh, and bring it closer to your most delicate part. Even though it’s you who’s being touched right now, it’s Chan who shivers once his fingers brush your pussy. A small huff escapes his nose. You feel foreign under his touch, and so fragile. Chan is scared he’ll mess up. 

“I’ll probably mess up,” he mumbles, finding the courage to open his eyes and look at you - you don’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. In fact, your own cheeks are tinted of a bright pink shade, and your own fingers are slightly shaking, Chan can feel it. 

“It’s okay,” you kiss him on the cheek. “You’ll learn. I’m not expecting you to be perfect on your first try, just so you know that. We’ve got a lifetime together to practice,” you chuckle, and he does, too, although he’s a bit more nervous than you. 

“Okay. Just… teach me,” his gaze moves to where he’s touching you, his fingers still on your mound. 

You move his hand slightly, and gasp when Chan brushes your clit. It’s dry, and not completely satisfying, but the friction still makes you throb, however slightly. “This is the clit. Do you watch porn?” 

Chan wishes he could physically stuck his head in the sand because of how much he’s embarrassed to admit this, even though it’s completely normal. “Y-Yeah, I… I watch it, some times.” 

“You know it’s okay to watch porn, right?” You chuckle, “nobody’s judging you for that.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, still quite embarrassed. “It’s just… I don’t do it regularly. Only some times. I prefer to use my imagination when I’m… you know.”

“When you’re touching yourself?” He nods, red in the face. “You’re so cute. One day you’ll tell me what you think of, yeah? For now, just focus on me.”

Chan feels kind of weird at the thought of sharing his dirty thoughts with you, mostly because, well, you’re in all of them, but you seem to be particularly interested in knowing, so he just nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell you.” 

You kiss his cheek once again. “This is the clit,” you repeat. “I really like to be touched here, but not like this. It’s too dry and kind of painful.”

“And how do you like to be touched?” He asks as if he were in class and taking notes. 

“It depends. I usually squeeze some lube on my fingers and it helps,” and then you move his hands only slightly farther. Chan still can’t believe how soft you feel. “But you made me really wet, so this’ll work, too,” you bite your lip. Chan’s now touching your entrance, fingers kind of dipping into your wetness. It feels kind of sticky on his skin, and there’s so much of it already even though he barely touched you. 

“I made you this wet?” He can’t help but ask, incredulous. 

“Yeah. You know, all the kissing and the dirty talk, you touching my boobs…” you trail off. 

Gripping Chan’s wrist tight, you allow him to move his hands up and down your pussy a couple of time, making sure to coat his fingers in your arousal as much as possible, and once they’re significantly wet, you guide him back on your clit. 

“You can do anything, really. Move them how you want, it doesn’t really make a difference for me. Just, whatever you do, be delicate.”

Chan looks completely lost, unsure what he’s supposed to do even though you literally just told him. Instinctively, what he does is move his fingers drawing a kind of circle on you clit - he saw it in a video once, and the girl had seemed to like it very much. 

“Like this?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah, it feels nice,” you encourage him. Of course his movements are not perfect, but it’s still pleasant. “You can go a bit faster.” 

When he does, his fingers kind of slip from your clit, and you reposition his hand to make sure he’s rubbing the right spot. “Oops, sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, blushing a little, even though he’s got nothing to be sorry for. 

“It’s okay. You’re doing good,” you encourage him, kissing his shoulder while trying to muffle the sounds that leave your mouth. 

He keeps touching you exactly like you taught him to, rubbing you delicately, eyes on his fingers and, consequently, on your pussy as he remains quiet only to listen to the sweet sounds you’re making. When his fingers start to feel a little bit dry, he spontaneously dips them back in the pool of arousal at your entrance, and then he resumes the movements on your clit. Once he’s gained enough confidence, the circular movements slowly turn into tight, imaginary eights on your clit, and he’s not prepared for the moan you let out, your fingers gripping his arm tight.

“You’re doing so good, Chan,” you huff, pressing your lips on his skin, holding onto him as you feel the knot in your stomach begin to form. “Keep going.” 

Chan believes he could easily get addicted to the small, squeaky sound you make when you’re getting close to your release, and he still can’t believe he’s the cause you’re feeling that good. It’s a confidence booster he didn’t know he needed until now. He kisses the top of your head as he feels your legs starting to shake. He still can’t believe he’s about to make you orgasm despite this being the first time he lays his fingers on a woman. 

“I’m close, Channie. Don’t stop,” you stick your fingernails into his skin, and he muffles a whimper. 

His wrist is starting to hurt, but he has no intention to stop - he keeps rubbing your sensitive bud like he has no other purpose in life, and in a matter of seconds, he has you cumming under his touch, although he doesn’t realize it at first because you don’t warn him, even though you do let out a high-pitched moan that has him shivering. He only realizes you’ve come when you clench your thighs, practically blocking his movements because you’re starting to feel overstimulated. 

“’S too much,” you whine, hiding your face in his neck, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and moving his hand away from your pussy. He’s confused, so you explicitly tell him, “I came. ‘M too sensitive now,” and don’t miss the way he raises his eyebrows. 

He made you cum. He was able to pleasure you to the point you orgasmed because of him. When he looks down, not only your pussy is completely wet, but there’s also a small, wet patch on your bedsheets - the proof of what he did to you, and he can’t help but feel proud of himself. 

“Was it okay?” He asks you, lying down next to you as you try to catch your breath, brain still feeling kind of fuzzy. 

You nod, “it was great. You learn pretty fast,” you chuckle and Chan blushes. “But now I kind of want to do something to you, you know? As a thank you for a mind-blowing orgasm?” You squeeze his thigh. 

Chan looks taken aback. “You, uh… you don’t have to do anything, really.” 

“So you don’t want me to suck you off?” 

Chan’s cock positively throbs in his pants. The thought of you wrapping your lips around him drives him crazy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined it before, especially when it’s late at night and his stupid hard cock won’t soften.

“I-I… I don’t want you to think I pleasured you just to get something in return.” 

“Chan, I want to do it,” you mumble, kissing his lips, “‘m not asking just because I feel pressured or I feel like I have to. I really want to suck your cock,” your hand moves farther, now almost palming his cock. 

Chan nods. “Okay. I, uh… I really want it, too, obviously. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t pressuring you into it.”

“You’re not,” you smile at him, and then Chan feels you slowly unbuttoning his jeans, and then the zipper is next. 

Even though you already gave him a handjob and licked him cum off his stomach, he still feels kind of self-conscious about showing his naked body to anyone else who isn’t his bathroom mirror. Moreover, he knows his cock is not the biggest out there, and he can’t help but feel a little bit anxious because what if you think he’s not enough? What if your exes were bigger? He’s above average, maybe only slightly bigger, but what if it’s still not enough? He doesn’t say anything, though, and lets you undress him slowly, as if you were unwrapping a present, slowly stripping him of his skinny jeans. 

You’re naked in front of him, positioned between his legs and ready to touch him, to take him into your mouth, and he’s slowly starting to panic. Chan takes a deep breath when you hook your fingers in the hem of his boxers and you feel him tense up, shutting his eyes closed. He’s spiralling, you can see it, and you don’t want it this way, so you remove your fingers from his underwear. He opens his eyes to look at you, confused, nervous, scared you might just get up and leave, fed up with his insecurities eating him alive. Instead, what you do is look him in the eye as you palm his erection over his boxers, and then you press your mouth on it. Chan has to muffle a moan in the back of his hand, keeping his eyes on you. And then he feels your hot tongue on him, over the thin fabric of his boxers, and his cock throbs. 

“You feel so good already,” you mumble, continuing to lick him over his boxers until your tongue is pressed on his balls, and that’s when he involuntarily jerks his hips. It feels so good, better than anything he’s ever felt before. “Can’t wait to taste you,” your voice comes out muffled by the fabric of his boxers. You want him to feel confident, to stop panicking and finally realize that you find him unbelievably hot. 

Begging he does when you wrap your mouth around his balls as your fingers tease his sensitive tip. “Please,” he whines, finding it already hard to hold back. He’s not gonna last at all. It’s gonna be even worse than the dry humping thing, he’s gonna blow unbelievably fast. “Feels so good. Feels amazing, oh,” he whines, gripping the bedsheets tight. 

“You do realize you’ve got nothing to be shy for, yeah? You drive me crazy, Chan,” you place a few more kisses on his length, “I just want to make you feel good. Show you how much you turn me on. Will you let me?” 

Chan whines, a small “yeah” leaving his mouth, and he suddenly feels much more confident than before. You always manage to make him feel so loved, so appreciated, and he’s forever grateful that he’s experiences all of his firsts with someone like you - with you. It wouldn’t make sense with anyone else, it wouldn’t feel this way - so right. 

He helps you slide his boxers down his length, which finally springs free and hits his stomach with a slap, and then his underwear soon reaches yours on the floor. Maybe Chan’s cock isn’t the longest out there, it most definitely isn’t, but it’s definitely the prettiest you’ve seen. It’s kind of thick and feels heavy overall, with a thick vein on the underside and full, heavy balls yearning to be touched again. You want to give this boy all the head in the world. 

“Your cock is so pretty,” you mumble, leaving a couple of kisses on his groin, where his cock is lying undisturbed. Chan can’t wait for you to touch him, for you to do anything you want to him. “Can’t wait to taste you again, Channie.”

Chan doesn’t even have the time to say anything to you, because as soon as he tries to speak he feels your hot, wet tongue on his length and he has to bite on his lip to muffle an obscene moan. It’s not physically possible for a blowjob to feel this good, and you haven’t even taken him in your mouth yet. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, and he throbs in your palm, heavy and eager. When you wet his sensitive tip with a gob of your spit, it catches him completely off guard, and a shiver runs down his spine, but it’s nothing compared to the way his legs tremble when you run your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

“Oh, my-“ 

You smirk, looking at him as you engulf his cockhead in your mouth, enjoying the way he’s squirming, fisting the sheets and holding on to them for dear life. He tastes kind of salty, but you don’t really mind, in fact it’s kind of pleasant. When you try to take more of him into your mouth, he can’t help but grunt, his balls tightening. You start moving up and down his length, taking a bit more of him in your mouth with each bob of your head, and Chan can’t take his eyes off you - there’s saliva dripping from your mouth and all over his cock, coating his entire length and his balls, and you’re making the prettiest sounds as you take him into your mouth until he’s almost fully buried inside of it. 

“‘M not gonna last very long, gotta be honest,” he chuckles, stomach tightening as you swallow around his length. His whole body shakes.

You simply squeeze his thigh to let him know it’s perfectly okay, that you don’t really care when he cums - what matters the most is that he enjoys what’s happening and that he’s feeling good. When his tip hits the back of your throat he hisses, fisting the sheets even tighter until his knuckles turn white, so the next thing you do is stretching out your arm to intertwine your fingers with his, and then you place his hand on your head, burying it in your hair. Chan feels kind of bad about pulling it, afraid to hurt you or to cause you any discomfort, but when he eventually pulls it and you moan out of pleasure he can’t help but raise hie eyebrows in surprise. So he does it again, closing his eyes and relaxing under your touch. 

“Your mouth feels so good, what the fuck,” he whimpers, clenching his thighs in a desperate attempt of putting off his orgasm. Now that he knows how having your lips wrapped around him feels like, he’s not sure he’ll be able to live without it. 

Just when Chan thought it couldn’t get even better, it does. His whole body shakes when you take all of him into your mouth and swallow around his length again. Then one more time, as your hand comes to cup his balls, caressing them delicately, and before he can’t warn you or pull you off his dick, he’s cumming, shooting his load in your mouth. 

“Fuck. ‘M sorry, ‘m cumming, oh my God.” He rambles, not even knowing what he’s saying because it just feels so good and his brain feels fuzzy and he’s still trembling and cumming in your mouth. 

But you don’t pull away - instead, you swallow his release with a hum. It’s salty, but with a bitter aftertaste that’s not necessarily bad. When you pull off his cock and look at him, Chan looks as if his soul had left his body, lying on the sheets completely spent, his cock softening where it’s resting against his abdomen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he pouts.

“It’s okay,” you giggle, licking you lips. “I liked it. You taste nice, just like I remembered.”

“C’mere,” he mumbles, opening his arms at you. You lie down next to him, resting your head on his chest. “No, no, let me kiss you. Wan’ kiss.” 

You smile as you lift your head to lean in and place your lips on his. He can taste himself on you, and it’s not as disgusting as he thought it would be. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he nuzzles your cheek when he pulls away. “You’re amazing, you know that?” 

“You’re just saying that because you just had an orgasm and your brain feels kind of as if it were floating. Wait until post-nut clarity hits you,” you tease him, poking his dimple with the tip of your pointer finger. 

“No, I’m saying it because I really think you’re amazing and I love you.” 

That’s when time stops, and nothing else in the world seems to exist apart from you and Chan in your messed up bed, covered in sweat and body fluids, with messy hair and out of breath. Nothing else exists and nothing else matters because Chan just told you he loves you. You don’t even realize your eyes welled up with tears after his spontaneous confession. Yes, you technically told each other you might love each other, but this is entirely different. This marks the start of something new. 

You sniffle, and hide your face in Chan’s neck - you don’t want him to look at you when your eyes are all red and puffy. “I love you,” you mumble quietly, but Chan hears you loud and clear, and he holds you close to his chest. 

“Why are you crying?” Chan asks, kissing the top of your head. 

“Because you… you told me you love me and now I’m all sensitive because I love you too and you make me so happy.”

He chuckles, thinking you’re the cutest in the whole world and that he’s so lucky to have found you. He stretches his arm to grab the sheets to cover your entangles bodies. You fall asleep like that, lulled by each other’s heartbeats, surrounded by each other’s warmth. And when you wake up the next morning, you go again - he pleasures you with his mouth this time, and then the two of you end up dry humping once again, this time without clothes separating your bodies until Chan spills onto your stomach and mentally notes to bring a condom with him the next time the two of you’ll have yours or his place for yourselves, because there’s no way he’ll be able to resist you. 

He’s ready. 

ᥫ᭡

Chan is starting to believe his boss really hates his guts, because he decided to send him off a work trip to Japan for a whole week, which means he won’t be able to see you for a week, which means your plans of touching, kissing, feeling each other will be delayed. It shouldn’t really be an issue, since he’s being a virgin his whole life, but Chan was really looking forward to spending some time alone with you this weekend. 

Three days left. Three more days and he’ll be able to kiss and hug you again and so much more.

Chan changes into his pajamas and slips under the soft covers, and just like every night since he left, he unlocks his phone and video calls you like a sort of nighttime routine he wishes will continue even after he’s returned from his work trip. It’s cute, watching you all snuggled up under the covers and fall asleep together like that. Only this time, when you pick up the phone, you’re not snuggled up under the covers at all. In fact, you’re wearing your bathrobe, one that’s kind of revealing. Chan’s eyes widen and he looks at you shocked, looking already kind of flustered. 

“Uh, hello to you too?” He chuckles, looking at you through the camera, and you greet him with a big smile on your face. 

“Hi!” You chirp, and of course you do realize he’s red in the face, but by now he’s well aware that you love seeing him all flustered and squirming. “I jus’ got out of the shower.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he stutters, embarrassed. “Do you want me to call you back? So that you can put something on?”

“Why? You don’t like me in a bathrobe?” You tease him, knowing it’s the complete opposite. 

Chan sighs, shaking his head as a no. “I think I like you way too much in that. Which is a problem, you know, because I’m so far away from you…” 

He truly can’t wait to see you again. 

“But you’ll be back soon…” you smile at him through the phone, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “and you’ll get to see me in way less than a bathrobe.”

Chan’s cock stirs in his pants at the thought. Ever since he’d seen you naked he hasn’t been able to think of anything else while he touches himself. Ever since he got to feel you and taste you, he can’t get the thought out of his head. 

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “Don’t say things like that. Please, not when I’m seven-hundred miles away from you and I can’t see you. I’m losing my mind over here, thinking of the last time we saw each other…” 

You smirk, and then slide the bathrobe off one of your shoulders. “Yeah? Whatcha thinking of?”  You bat your eyelashes at him, untying the knot on the robe, and Chan’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“Are we about to do what I think we’re about to do?” Chan can’t help but ask, a pained expression on his face as he palms himself over the shorts he wears to sleep, feeling himself growing harder under his own familiar touch. “‘Cause I’m down, fyi.” 

You nod. “If you’re thinking of phone sex, then yeah,” you bite your lip. “Now be good and take off your shirt, yeah?”

His t-shirt comes off in seconds and he shows his naked torso to you through the camera. He looks incredibly good, and you wish you could run your fingers all over his naked chest and pecs and arms and every single inch of his skin, really. Touch and kiss him until you get him all riled up - soft kisses on his neck that inevitably turn slutty until you’re fully sucking on his skin and leaving pretty marks there. The thought is enough to make you clench your thighs. 

“Now you. Please,” he speaks softly through the phone, slightly embarrassed to be the only one who’s so exposed right now. 

It’s only fair that you show him a little something, right? And even though he’s seen them a couple of times already, a tiny, muffled gasp still leaves Chan’s mouth once he finally sees your boobs on his phone screen. You’re smirking, of course you are, as you grope one with your own hand and squeeze it. Chan misses the feeling of having them in his hands. 

“Pretty. So pretty,” he mumbles, staring at your boobs while still palming himself, now fully hard. “How are you so perfect? ’t’s not possible, you’re not real. ‘M convinced you’re not real sometimes, you know?” 

You giggle, pinching your own nipple between your fingers. “I’m definitely real, I’ll show you when you’re back. And for the record, you’re the perfect one,” you bite your lip as you compliment him, still looking at his half-naked figure. 

“Baby? Pretty?” He mumbles, a tiny huff leaving his nostrils as he keeps looking at you playing with your tits, on full display for him to see. “Show me something more. Please, baby. Need it, need you.” 

“Only if you show me your pretty cock first.”

Taking his shorts off using only one hand is pretty uncomfortable, and Chan has to actually set his phone aside for a couple of seconds to slide them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free, hitting his skin with a loud slap. When he picks his phone again, he realizes he’s a bit self-conscious about showing himself completely naked to you over the phone, even though you literally had his cock in your mouth. You actually find it cute and somehow hot, honestly. 

“Don’t go shy on me, baby. It’s just us, you and me.” 

Chan nods convinced, and then angles his phone so that his hard manhood is now shown on camera, with his fingers wrapped around his base. Is he doing this right? Is there even a right way to do this? He’s never had phone sex before, obviously, so he doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do right now. Should he just touch himself? Or perhaps should he wait for you to show yourself to him first? He opts for the first option. 

“It looks so hard. Wanna touch it so bad, wanna feel you in my mouth again.” 

Chan kicks his head back into the soft pillows, squeezing himself even tighter. “I’d kill to feel your mouth on me right now,” Chan grunts, not really paying attention to what he’s saying because, let’s face it, there’s no blood left in his brain. “S-Show me, pretty. Your… your pussy. Please. Need to see you.” 

The bathrobe finally comes off, and you too angle the phone in the best way possible for him to see every bit of you. He finally sees your pussy and his eyes roll in the back of his skull as he bites his lip. He’s never even fucked you yet and he’s already whipped for your pussy. If he focuses hard enough, Chan can still taste you on his tongue, he can still feel the way your thighs clenched so hard around his head to the point he couldn’t move as you came onto his tongue. He can still feel how wet you were as he moved his cock up and down your folds until he spilled his cum onto your stomach. 

“‘M so wet for you, Chan,” you speak softly, and he watches you as you run your fingers up and down your slit, not missing the way a pained gasp leaves your mouth when your pads brush your sensitive clit. “Wish you were here. Wish you were touching me right now, you’d feel so much better.”

Chan gives a long and painful stroke to his hopeless cock. “Don’t say that, pretty. Been thinkin’ about touching you the whole day. I woke up so horny for you…”

“Me too. I touched myself in the shower to the thought of your mouth on me…” you admit, slightly red in the face, as your fingers begin to circle your clit. “I can’t wait to see you again, Channie.”

“Me too, pretty- fuck,” he whimpers, stroking his cock a bit faster now, setting the pace he’s so familiar with. “I wanna do it so bad. Had a dream about it, you know?”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

Chan’s cock throbs in his hand at the thought of the dream he’d had a couple of nights earlier. “We were at my place and- and we were touching each other, you know?” He whimpers, swiping his thumb over his painfully red tip. “A-And things escalated? I can’t really remember how or when, but at some point you…” 

“I?” You encourage him to speak, touching yourself faster, the thought of Chan dreaming about having sex with you driving you absolutely feral. 

“You got on top of me, pretty,” Chan whines pathetically. “You got on top of me and-and took my virginity. I blew so fast, pretty,” he chuckles, “made a mess on the bed.”

“Channie, I’m- fuck, baby, I’m cumming,” you warn him, your own orgasm catching you off guard. It’s so intense you have to close your legs and clench your thighs due to the oversensitivity. 

“M-Me too, baby. Pretty, fuck,“ white ropes of cum shoot right onto his abs and chest as he lets out the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. He just keeps cumming until it starts dripping down his skin and it pools right at the base of his softening cock, staining the soft hair of his happy trail and a bit of his fingers, too. 

Chan and you remain silent for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths. You can’t wait to see each other, but it’s not just about sex. You miss each other in all the little things, in the routine, in the lunch breaks spent together and the stolen kisses when he drops you off at work, in the walks under the moonlight, in the soft touches you exchange under the covers when you spend the night together - all the sexual stuff is just a bonus.

“Wow, it was… it was really something,” Chan takes a deep breath. His hair is disheveled and he has his usual post-orgasmic grin on his face. Not that you’re doing much better, honestly - you’ll probably need another quick shower before going to bed. “Now I’m missing you even more, though. Wish I could hug you, wanna fall asleep together.”

“Soon, baby. Only a couple of days left and then we’ll be inseparable,” you smile at him through the phone screen, and he wishes he could kiss you right now. 

“I can’t wait,” he smiles back. 

A shower is very much needed, but neither of you feels like hanging up the video call, so you clean yourselves up while the call is still going, and then meet each other again once you’re done and ready to slip under the covers. And just like every night since Chan left, you fall asleep together, while watching each other’s cute, sleepy face over the screen, wishing you were in each other’s arms. 

ᥫ᭡

This time Chan is really, really ready. 

Shower? Taken. Cologne? Sprayed. He chose to wear his favorite t-shirt and jeans, and chose not to wear any piece of jewellery. He shaved his beard and put on a moisturizing cream to make sure his skin would be nice and soft for you to kiss and touch, and even applied lip balm for the exact same reason. Chan even shaved somewhere else, not fully, the same way he’s always showed himself to you. And ultimately, he sprayed some more cologne on, just to be sure he smells great. He spent an awful amount of time checking himself in the mirror, trying to ignore the way his legs felt kind of jelly and how fast his heart is beating in his chest - tonight is the night. 

That’s also why he touched himself in the shower, you know, to make sure he won’t blow as soon as he puts it in.

Of course, he brings with him the box of condoms he bought a while back - not that he’s hoping to use all of them, but he brought so many just in case something goes wrong because you never know. He rolled his eyes when Changbin and Minho teased him for a bit with their silly jokes and allusions to what’s going to happen, and raised his middle finger at them before closing the front door behind his back before hopping in his car and driving to your place, because you thankfully don’t have nosy and antisocial roommates who are always home. 

When you open the door, he thinks you’re more beautiful than ever. 

And no, you’re not wearing anything too special like a dress or something revealing or anything else. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, the one he gave you before he left for his work trip to Tokyo, and some baggy jeans. Still, he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Chan jumps into your arms as soon as you open the door, hugging you tight and burying his face in your neck, finally able to breathe in your scent after spending a week apart. 

“I missed you so much,” his voice is muffled, “‘m never leaving you again. Missed hugging you, having you in my arms. My pretty girl.”

You wrap your own arms around him, pulling him even closer, feeling his strong body pressed to yours. You’ve missed him so much, and now he’s here and you feel so happy you could cry.

“Missed you too, baby, so much,” you play with his hair, tugging at it while he’s still wrapped around you like a koala. “Video calls were fun and all, but I really missed the real thing, you know? Your hugs are the best in the world.” 

He chuckles. “I’m happy you like my hugs, pretty, because I’m totally gonna smother you with aaaall of my physical affection from now on to make up for the lost time.”

You pull away, looking at him, quirking an eyebrow. “All of your physical affection?”

Chan’s heartbeat picks up in his chest as soon as he hears your words - of course he understands the implication behind them, and he’s not caught off guard, it’s not that. He’s ready, he wants it, of course. It’s all he could think of for days, weeks even. 

“All of it,” he concludes, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Oh,” you rest your palms on his broad chest, not tearing off your gaze from his beautiful hazelnut eyes, “sounds like a promise.” You tease him, kind of wanting to test his limits - you want to know if he’s really sure about it. Him being convinced and comfortable with you is what matters the most. 

“It is,” he nuzzles your cheek. “If you want to, of course. Want to show you how much I missed you,” he kisses you on the corner of your lips, “how much I want you,” a small peck on your mouth, “how much I love you.” 

Finally, he kisses you properly, his hot tongue in your mouth as you make out shamelessly in your living room. His hands come to cup your cheeks while yours pull him closer by the waist, hooking your fingers in the loop of his jeans until his body is pressed against yours. 

“Bedroom?” You mumble in between kisses, and Chan’s lips move to your neck - his touch so delicate and sensual it makes you shiver in anticipation. 

Chan hums against your skin, his hands squeezing your waist as he takes a tentative step forward, towards your bedroom. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, doesn’t want to pull away from you not even for one second. His hot kisses on your neck make wetness pool inside of your panties, and you can feel him get hard - then his lips are back on yours as you try to reach your room without pulling away from each other, bumping on door jambs and furniture edges on your way there, but you couldn’t care less right now. 

“I love you,” you whisper on his lips once your back hits the mattress - Chan hovering over you, his hands on each side of your head. 

“I love you too,” he presses his body on yours, and you spread your legs to accomodate him. His fingers toy with the hem of your t-shirt and before you know it, his hand slips under it, brushing the bare skin of your stomach until he cups one of your breasts with his palm and he’s met with the feeling of the lacy fabric of your bra. 

“Take it off,” you breathe, craving the feeling of Chan’s hands on your skin. He nods, and you arch your back, allowing him to slip the t-shirt off you. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes roll in the back of his head at the sight of your semi-naked breasts, covered only by the sexiest bra he’s ever seen - black, of course. When your fingers tug at his t-shirt, he wastes no time in taking it off at the speed of light - not an ounce of shyness in his moves, and you’re soon met with the sight of his bare chest and abs. You run your fingers all over his muscles, feeling them hard and toned under your touch. 

Your jeans are the next thing that comes off. Chan slides them down your thighs relatively quickly, if it weren’t for the way his brain literally short-circuited at the sight of your matching lacy panties. His pants soon reach the floor as well, leaving him in only his boxers that do nothing to hide his erection. Chan’s lips are back on yours as he positions himself between your legs once again, pressing his clothed cock on your pussy, and you both moan at the feeling. 

“Wanna make you cum,” he mutters on your skin as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and his words send a shiver down your spine. His hand reaches behind your back to unhook your bra. 

You whimper. “Right now?” You let him slide the piece of fabric off you, and Chan starts kissing your collarbone. 

“Yeah,” a kiss on the valley of your breasts. “It probably won’t be good, you know? The sex. Since it’s my first time and everything, so I really wanna make sure you cum. I don’t wanna be like those selfish guys who leave their partners unsatisfied.”

“You’re the most selfless person I know, Channie,” you mumble, breath hitching in your throat when he wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before moving to kiss your stomach. “You really don’t have to,” you tell him, but he’s already hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties. 

“But I really want to.”

Oh. 

Chan slides your panties off, kissing every inch of your inner thigh as he removes the very last piece of clothing covering your body. Even though he’s definitely not a pro at giving oral, since it’s something he only experienced a couple of times, he feels confident in his skills - he had a great teacher, after all. He tries to remember what you told him the first time he did this as his kisses move closer and closer to your core. 

Slow, that’s how you like it. Chan starts with a filthy lick that goes from your entrance to your clit, where he starts sucking. He’s a fast learner, that’s for sure. Chan buries his face in your cunt, lapping at your clit and stroking your hips with his thumbs while your body shakes and trembles under his touch as he eats you out. It’s messy, and he’s still learning, but it feels amazing nonetheless. You tug at his hair and he moans, even though you’re the one who’s being eaten out as if the world ended tonight. Chan brings you close to your high fast - even he’s surprised when he feels your thighs clenching around his head already, but can’t help but feel proud of himself. 

Your pretty moans and whimpers fill Chan’s ears and your bedroom as you cum on his tongue. He licks your arousal off you, swallowing your sweet release as your flavor fills his mouth - he gets so drunk on it. Maybe you’ll let him eat you out once more tonight, if he’s lucky. 

“Channie, baby. Too sensitive,” you whimper, tugging at his hair to get him to stop lapping at your cunt. He does pull away, but nuzzles and kisses your inner thigh for a while in a soothing way as you come down from your high. 

“Was it good?” He mumbles against your skin. He’s not teasing you, he’s really waiting for a feedback. 

You nod, caressing the back of his head. “Are you kidding? ’t was amazing.” 

He chuckles, embarrassed, hiding his face in your skin as he blushes. “Ah, I had a really good teacher,” he kisses your thigh. 

“Nah, I think you’re just naturally talented. Those lips are a guarantee,” you smirk. “C’mere.”

Chan lies down next to you, and cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, but you can still taste yourself on his lips when you kiss him. He gasps in your mouth when you catch him off guard by wrapping your fingers around his manhood over his boxers. He feels only slightly bigger than usual and very hard and hot and in a few minutes it’s going to be inside of you. 

He pulls away from your lips when you slide your hand under the waistband, finally touching him properly. “Baby. Pretty, I’m- I want you.” 

You give one long stroke on his cock and he whines. “Yeah? You’re ready?”

Chan kisses your naked shoulder. “Yeah. Want you now.”

You nod, “alright.”

Chan’s hands and limbs are shaking with nervousness as he gets up from the bed to retrieve his jeans jacket on the floor, fishing the box of condoms from inside the pocket. He pulls out one. He feels nervous as he comes back to where you’re lying all naked and pretty, waiting for him, and all of a sudden he’s more nervous than he’s ever been. 

“How do you… uh, how do you want to do this?” He tries to hide his insecurity behind a warm smile. It’s not like he’s changed his mind - he wants this, he wants it very much. He just doesn’t want to fuck this up or embarrass himself. 

“However you want, baby. We go at your pace,” you brush his knuckles in a comforting way, “maybe you should be on top.”

Chan nods. He pulls his boxers down slowly, letting his erection spring free and slap on his abdomen. He’s shaking even now as he’s tearing the condom wrapper open, and you sense his nervousness, so you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. He rolls the condom onto his length pretty easily, and then takes a deep breath, his heart beating fast in his chest. 

“Channie. Baby, c’mere,” you mumble. 

He looks at you with puppy eyes as he lies on top of you, resting his head on your chest. “I’m sorry. I want this, I really do - I’m just nervous.” 

You run your fingers through his soft curls. “I’m nervous, too, you know?” You speak softly, kissing the top of his head, admitting for the first time tonight how you’re feeling, catching Chan off guard, because why would you be nervous? You’ve done this before. 

“You’re nervous? Why?” He has to ask, lifting his head to look into your eyes. 

You caress his cheek with your thumb. “Because it’s your first time,” you smile at him, “and I want you to have a nice memory of it, you know? I mean, what if you don’t like it with me? It’s going to… you know, set the bar? For whoever is gonna come next.”

“Ah, are you crazy?” Chan looks at you with a serious look on his face. “Of course I’m gonna have a nice memory, baby. I’m gonna have an amazing memory, and you know why?”

You shake your head as a no. “Why?” 

“Because it’s you who I’m experiencing this with,” he whispers on your lips, looking you in the eye. “And don’t you ever say that again - you know, the whoever is gonna come next part. There’s not gonna be anyone else. I’m in love with you and I wanna be with you for a very long time, so don’t even worry about shit like that, ‘kay?”

Unable to say anything, you just nod as you feel tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you’re quick to dry them with the back of your hand. Chan kisses your lips tenderly, and his warm touch comforts you. 

“I, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, eyes dropping to where his cock is resting between your bodies, still pretty fucking hard. 

“Do you want me to do it?” You offer, and Chan nods - ever since his friend Felix told him about that time he put it in the wrong hole accidentally he’s been terrified of embarrassing himself like that, too, so he figures it’s best if you help positioning his cock at your entrance. 

Your hand reaches down to wrap around his base, and you spread your legs a bit more just to be comfortable as Chan lifts his hips. You let the tip of his cock bump on your clit a couple of times, and then you gently position it on your entrance, still wet from your orgasm and Chan’s saliva. A shiver runs down Chan’s spine at the feeling - it’s already overwhelming in the best way possible. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Channie.” 

He nods. “You’re not gonna make fun of me if I cum too soon, right?”

You shake your head as a no, “I won’t make fun of you in any case, Channie. Promise.”

“Alright,” he takes a deep breath and then, he’s pushing inside of you. 

“B-Baby,” a chocked gasp leaves his mouth as soon as he feels your warmth wrapped around the tip of his cock. 

Even though he’s got a condom on, it still feels amazing, better than anything he’s experienced so far - even better than your mouth, which is his favorite thing in the world. You’re warm and so, so tight around him. You take a deep breath yourself since it’s been a while since you’ve last been intimate with someone, and your heart is beating so fast in your chest you’re actually scared you’re gonna pass out. 

“So good,” he mumbles, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth as he slowly pushes the rest of his length inside of you. “Feels so good, oh my God, baby.”

Once he bottoms out inside of you, his body literally collapses on yours, and Chan hides his face in the crook of your neck. He leaves small pecks on your collarbone and shoulders, and you entangle your fingers in his curls and wrap your arm around his waist. He’s inside of you. He trusts and loves you so much and he gave you his virginity. He’s inside of you and hadn’t been inside of anyone else until now. The thought has you clenching around him involuntarily, and his head snaps up in your direction. 

“Don’t do that,” he whines, “I’m trying to last as much as possible, pretty.” 

You bite your lip, pulling a couple of strands of hair away from his face. Chan’s cheeks are flushed pink, and his pupils are fully blown - he looks so desperate and already on the edge. “Ah, it’s okay, Channie. You can cum whenever you want, baby. Just do what feels right for you.” 

But Chan absolutely refuses to bust after only putting it in without having even had the chance to fuck you. “N-No. Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna last longer. For you. Wanna feel you just a bit longer, pretty, wanna fuck you. You feel so good around me.” 

The first thrust inside of you is tentative and painfully slow. Chan lets out a cute hmph as he sinks back into your heat, not tearing his gaze off you. You’re beautiful, lying underneath him - your hair all over your pillow. He’s inside you. He’s finally inside of you, and he can’t believe it. He’s making love to the girl he’s so hopelessly in love with, and it almost feels as if his heart could explode out of joy and happiness and love right now. 

His thrusts are all but precise, he’s well aware of that. His movements are uncoordinated and the fact that he already feels on the verge of his orgasm doesn’t really help, but you seem to enjoy it. Your lower lip is caught between your teeth, and you’re taking deep breaths through your nose as you tug at Chan’s hair. It’s all good signs, right? 

“Does this feel good for you too?” Chan asks you, his voice coming out hoarse. 

You hum, “feels so good, Channie. Feel so full,” you whimper, looking down to where his cock is entering you slowly. Even though he knows he’s not the biggest guy out there, it still feels nice to hear. 

Chan’s gaze drops between your bodies, too, and he can’t help but let out an obscene grunt. “Feels so good, what the fuck,” he whines. “How can it feel this fucking good?” He whimpers and moans shamelessly as he continues to fuck into you slowly. “‘M not gonna last much longer, baby.”

You don’t mind. You just nod at him and wrap both your arms around his waist to pull him closer, and then grope one of his asscheeks with your hand, enjoying the way you can feel the muscle clench with each thrust. Then, you grope the other one, too, and then land a slap on his ass that has him folding like a piece of paper. 

“Baby… pretty, fuck-“ he sighs, already feeling his cock twitching inside of you - he won’t be able to stop it. “‘M sorry, baby, I’m- ‘m cumming, pretty.”

“Do it, Channie. Cum f’me. Wanna feel you cumming for me.”

His whole body freezes as he orgasms, spilling all of his white release inside the condom, and it’s the most amazing feeling ever. Chan keeps cumming for what it feels like minutes but it’s honestly just a handful of seconds, giving you everything. You wish there was no barrier between the two of you, you wish you could feel him fully, but this feels really nice nonetheless. 

Chan’s body collapses on yours as he pants heavily. He wraps his strong arms around your body, enveloping you with all of his warmth in a tight embrace. His head feels so light, and so does his body to the point Chan feels like he’s floating on a cloud. You kiss the top of Chan’s head, and he can feel your soft and delicate touch on his naked shoulders. 

Chan holds you closer, and you stay like this for a while until he pulls away when he can feel his cock starting to soften inside of you. Holding the base of his cock and the condom, he pulls out of you slowly and takes off the rubber, tying a tight knot on it to prevent his semen from spilling, then throws it into the bin together with the wrapper and lies down next to you once again. He feels absolutely spent, and hums happily when you pull the covers of your bed over your bodies as you snuggle closer to each other. 

“Is it normal I feel so tired?” He giggles, circling your waist with his arm. You rest your head on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat. 

You giggle as well, “yeah. It means it was good, hopefully?”

“It was amazing,” he kisses you on the forehead, his fingers drawing imaginary shapes on your skin. “I never knew something could feel this good. I’m convinced it’s because it was with you,” he sighs. “I’m so glad I waited, you know? Wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else.”

“Chan…”

“No, I’m serious. Everything feels right with you. It’s not just the sexual stuff, all the small things feel right with you. Even- even just lying on the couch with you or grabbing a coffee in shitty cafes, or cooking together,” he rests his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. “It’s you who make sense in my life. You just make everything better, pretty.”

“Stooop,” you pout, covering your face with both of your hands, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles. “I’m so fucking happy I met you, pretty. I’m so fucking glad you got a flat tire that day, and I was there to help you. My life would be awfully plain and empty without you in it.”

He hears you sniffle and starts rubbing your back to soothe you. 

“Channie,” you mumble, voice muffled by his skin. “I’m- I’m happy I decided to open my heart to love again. I knew you’d be worth it, baby. I love you so much, Channie.”

He hugs you tighter and you stay like that for a long while - in silence, feeling incredibly happy and blessed to have found a love worth fighting for. A love that filled your lives with joy and serenity, a love that changed the both of you forever. You’re sure Chan’s the love of your life. He’s sure you’re his. 

It’s Chan who breaks the silence first, and you feel him getting hard against your thigh. 

“Pretty?”

“Hm?”

“You feel like going again?”

ᥫ᭡

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬! "𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧", 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

#SOOO BEAUTIFUL #and hot and tender and everything!!! #the intimacy is sooo electrifying #and chan is too endearing ;w;

[vsmvz]

「Drabble Challenge」 · #2

OFF THE RECORD ➥ He may be one of the most famous camboys, but he's always been just Minho to you. Your insanely sexy friend in possession of solid thighs you wouldn't mind taking a bite off of.

➥ Camboy/Friend!Minho x Reader (m) — 2.3k

➥ Prompt(s) requested: 49, 58

➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

⚠ — Recording of sexual acts.

“Pass me another beer, will you?”

FUCK this man entirely, and if you could find an opening, you were seriously going to.

The request was hardly grounds to get this pissed, but you just knew he was doing it on purpose. One time you stared at his thighs after he completed a leg set at the gym, and suddenly the man picked up the habit of fucking sprawling every time he was at your place.

What was infinitely funny about the situation was that the Internet’s walking thirst trap ‘Meanhoe’ was just ‘some dude’ to you, and you were having a hard time taking his clout intoxication seriously. Nevertheless, knowing him for so long, you felt like you were entitled to first dibs to bedding him rather than random strangers online. 

The only problem was that Lee Minho had invented teasing, but you would rather chew your arm off than make the first move. Some people still had pride.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Minho suddenly interrupted your inner monologue, “You got tense all of a sudden.”

“NO?” you denied the allegations no matter how close his feet were to your crotch.

“Okay, that was a bit louder than it should have been.”

‘YOU DON’T SAY?’ you wanted to yell even louder to make his ears ring. Maybe it had something to do with how he was frequently stretching in his place with groans that sounded like he was getting his dick sucked for the past hour. Maybe it was because you were trying to confirm whether he indeed had a semi or if you finally went insane and your eyes were deceiving you. Maybe it was related to how you told him you really liked his cologne, and he pulled up at your place tonight drenched in it.

Take your pick!

“I gotta pee,” you jumped to your feet to take shelter and calm down with the coolness of the bathroom tiles.

It was getting so hard to be around him lately because you weren’t able to control your feelings anymore. Two centimeters too close, and you would get an instant hard on in public. One whiff of his scent, and you were imagining what he would sound like in the backseat of your car. One look at the way he scarfed down his puddings, and you were calculating how many licks it would take till he got to the center of you.

FUCK this man entirely!

You leaned against the bathroom door, closed your eyes, and palmed yourself, thinking about the most recent video he put out. 

I’m not saying you need to be a fucking good kisser to make me blow hard but that’s exactly what I’m saying.

You were imagining what it would be like to kiss him when you jerked each other off. Maybe you could even make him cum just by kissing him. How much would his load be? Would he let you use that as lube to fuck him senseless afterwards? What would he sound like if he let you blow him for once? You just knew you would do such a good job that it would induce an instant addiction, prompting him to move into your bed the next day.

Minho’s lips. Minho’s hair. Minho’s thighs. Minho’s veins. Minho. Minho. Minho.

“Don’t finish.”

His voice suddenly echoing in the hallway scared the crap out of you. You just wanted to put a stop to your intrusive thoughts and finish the movie in peace, but apparently you weren’t even entitled to that in your own fucking house. What the hell was he even doing outside that door? 

“Let me in,” he softly knocked on the door.

“Go away!”

“Then come out,” he insisted with a voice growing deeper, “I need to see you.”

See you? For what?

You splashed some cold water on your face and took deep breaths to calm yourself as much as you could. Once you decided you had recollected yourself to be able to face him, you turned the doorknob.

“What?”

You were expecting many things. A snarky comment, a taunting remark, some other manifestation of his dry but dark as fuck humor…

But a kiss wasn’t one of them.

It was abrupt. Something you had imagined since forever taking place so suddenly wiped your entire brain clean. You were barely able to remember your own name, and all that ruled your existence was Lee Minho standing in your hallway, kissing you like he wanted to suck your soul out of you.

“Wanna make a sex tape with me?” he asked when he managed to pull away from your lips.

“WHAT?”

“I don’t think you realize you were moaning out loud in there,” he licked his lips and flashed a grin, “I heard everything.”

Okay, then could he at least let you go die in peace in some secluded corner out of mortification maybe?!

“You think about me, too, don’t you?” he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, “You want me as much as I want you.”

The key adverb being too. As in it was reciprocal. 

Your lips parted in surprise, but Minho took that as an invitation to occupy your lips again, and it was much more passionate this time. It felt like willingly walking into a jungle when you knew a tiger was waiting inside to rip you apart.

You wanted the tiger to rip you apart. Anything to satiate him.

Completely instinctively, you slid your hand inside his shorts. He was so hard in your palm already, prompting him to do the exact same thing to you. He trapped you under his frame and kissed your soul out of you while you jerked each other off.

If this was a dream, you wanted to die in your sleep.

“Fuck, not enough,” he breathed against your lips, “Get on your knees.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Lee Minho. Telling you to get on your knees for him. To watch you pleasure him out of his mind, one hand guiding your head to get adjusted to a pace he liked.

The thought alone was enough to push you to the brink of cumming.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your fuck me eyes?” he bit into his demoniac smile.

You didn’t even know you had fuck me eyes.

If your mouth wasn’t full of him, you could have produced something to get him going more maybe, but it didn’t matter. This moment right here, having the honor of being the one to pleasure him, watching his eyes roll back every time you took him deeper in your throat…

It was everything you could have asked for.

“God, just like that,” he threw his head back and his grip on your hair got tighter, “If you let me fuck your throat, I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

Anything he wanted, you were ready to oblige even if he didn’t promise. Absolutely anything.

You steadied yourself in your place and placed your hands on his ass, pushing him deep into you. His sounds of pleasure were climbing louder by the second, and you could tell it wasn’t going to be long before he caught his release. Nevertheless, right when you thought he was going to cum, he stopped himself.

“Where’s your phone?”

“In… my room,” you responded, all disoriented, “Chargi—”

With one harsh pull at your wrists, he made you stand up and started walking you to your room clumsily with his lips glued to yours, discarding whatever piece of clothing he could on the way and almost tearing your shirt off.

“I need to fuck you,” he whined against your skin, “If you want me to stop, tell me to stop now, otherw—”

Literally, who the fuck would?!

You shut him up by diving into his lips again. All that was allowed to talk were your hands, stripping each other until there was no fabric daring to separate your bodies anymore. With a clumsy move, Minho grabbed your phone on your nightstand, turned on the camera, and hit record, then wrapped his hands around your thighs and buried his face in your ass shortly afterwards.

“Do you have any idea how many times I jerked off to this?” he quietly spoke in between his licks.

If he kept this up, you were legitimately going to cum from his words alone. Minho. Not only did he imagine this exact scenario in his mind, but he jerked off to it. With you. 

His frenzied movements calmed down, and he started taking it much slower, dragging his tongue around your entrance while lazily stroking your girth. A part of him wanted you to drench his fist as soon as possible, but the default sick bastard part of him wanted to edge you until you cried. At long last, you felt that much anticipated pressure as he carefully started stretching you with one finger only, tongue still at work to keep you wet while stealing kisses from your thighs every chance he got. It took some exploration, squelches of his finger inside you echoing in your room, but he fucking knew when he hit that spot.

“Fuck!”

“I found it, right?” he triumphantly chuckled.

The feeling was… unusual to say the least, but with each lick on your gooch to accompany his thrusts, it became much more pleasurable. When he deemed you were ready for more, he added another finger inside, pace steady and moans growing louder so that you could feel them inside you. He kept massaging your prostate while full on making out with your ass.

“Give me that,” he finally pointed at the lube on your nightstand. Your wits were so gone already that you were operating solely on command.

Minho drenched himself in a generous coat as well as your entrance. Noticing the amount, you were bracing yourself for impact, but all he did was tease you. His tip pressing against you, barely in, anticipating a frustrated scream from you telling him to fucking do it already. All of a sudden, he threw one leg on his shoulder, and when he started kissing your legs, it felt way too intimate than it should have been.

“Can I?” he asked for permission at long last when he absolutely shouldn’t have. You fervently nodded in response. 

And when he fucking finally started sinking into you, he groaned so loud that it suddenly pushed you ten steps closer to your orgasm. 

“GOD, as tight as I’ve always imagined,” he loudly hissed, “I apologize in advance for the fucking mess I’m about to cause in here.”

He had promised himself to go slow, but it felt so fucking good inside you that he couldn’t help himself. With each thrust, he wanted more. He wanted to hit your deepest spots. He wanted to occupy the same space as you. Hearing you moan that loud was not helping his cause in the slightest, and Minho was scared he was going to have an untimely accident because of you. 

“You like that a bit too much,” he sank his fingertips into your thighs, “How long have you wanted me, huh?”

You wanted to answer ‘forever’, but your brain just wasn’t cooperating. Merely watching the comatose state of ecstasy he put you in was not enough for him. He spit on his hand and held you in a firm but steady grip.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Minho urged you in a voice as calm as he could produce, “I’m gonna keep drilling you into this mattress and you’re gonna cum on my face. Am I making myself clear?”

When your moans suddenly peaked at his instructions, his grip on your cock became a tad firmer. His thrusts slowed down a bit to keep himself steady, but as if to compensate for that, he was stroking you much more fervently.

“Minho, I’m…”

“Yes, you are,” he completed the sentence you couldn’t finish on your behalf, “You’re going to cum very hard.”

He spit on your cock and started jerking you so fast that it was impossible for you to resist anymore. The second he saw that first string shooting out of you, Minho lowered his face to feel every single drop on his skin. You came so much that his face was completely drenched with you. He scraped some of your load with two of his fingers and offered it to you.

“Taste yourself. Then finish me.”

Even your utterly fucked out state was not enough to trump the urge to satisfy him. For you. Because of you. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked them clean while looking dead into his eyes. When his breathing got more labored, signaling that he was about to give you what you’d been craving all along, you clenched as hard as you could, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to take that pressure. You momentarily felt his warm seed spilling into you, filling you to the brim, and the euphoria that came with it was so addictive that you never wanted this moment to end.

It was simply pure bliss to be Minho’s.

He collapsed on your chest and caught his breath while you played with his hair. When he finally looked up at you, his big feline eyes looked so adorable that you were overcome with the urge to kiss him to death, but before you could even make a move, he was the one drowning you in soft but wet pecks. It made you tickle. When Minho eventually caught a glance of your phone, his perfect features morphed into their usual mischievousness again.

“What do you say we start a livestream for round two?”

「© 2021-2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

[vsmvz]

Into It | b. c.

➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.

➸ starring: bang chan x female reader

➸ word count: 3k

➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk

➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-

♫ into it- chase atlantic

Far away.

You feel like your mind is so far away.

The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle. 

Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot. 

This is as close as you can get to bliss.

Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?

The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.

“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.

The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.

“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.

“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.

“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.

You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.

But how could you not when he was so…Chan?

He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.

And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.

And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.

“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.

“Nope. Just need to stretch.”

You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.

This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.

And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.

Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you. 

It might just be the alcohol though.

You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-

“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.

“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”

“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.” 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”

“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”

Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth. 

“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.

…What? 

The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.

“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.

“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”

Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.

“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.

You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.

“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”

“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.

And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.

If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.

“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.

He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure. 

He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.

How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation? 

Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.

“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.

“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”

He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.

“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.

He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.

His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.

You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.

Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”

He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.

He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.

Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.

“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.

The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.

There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.

But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.

The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.

His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.

And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.

You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.

“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”

You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.

Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.

Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.

The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.

“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you. 

“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.

Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.

“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.

The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer. 

But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.

He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.

He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.

“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”

“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”

“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him. 

He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.

“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”

#pulling my hair out #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism

[vsmvz]

this is soooooooo fucking good holy shit! 🤯

freak NASTY vampire sex (the hottest smut i’ve read in a while 😳) with lore? HECK YEAH

rsvp

pairing: lee minho x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!!, original vampire!minho, vampire!reader, dubcon (boundaries, consent, safe words, etc. are implied to have been established prior to this!!), phone sex, masturbation, compulsion / mind control, ruined orgasms, biting / feeding, blood play, cunnilingus, minho’s vampire venom, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, squirting, reader is a bit of a Brat and receives a very minho-esque punishment <3

a/n: this is my own take on this post and inspired by the vampire diaries <3 i have some notes at the very end that give you some background info on this universe! this lore is specific to the vampire diaries, idk any other vampire lore so if it’s not accurate to what you know, don’t come for me lol. also thank u to my bae juno for coming up w the title!!!

“this isn’t funny,” minho coos. faux nice. his teeth are gritted, that much you can tell even over the phone. his small fingers drum against the frame of your wide open front door. that’s as far as he’s gotten. 

you know when this is all over with he will actually find it funny. your wit is one of his favorite things about you, he’s told you plenty of times. you’re clever, and you can give just as good as you take. in his thousand years on this earth, he’s never met anyone like you; that’s a fact. 

he sighs and steps away from the door, and you can hear the creak of the porch swing through the speaker when minho plops down on it. 

“it’s cold out here.” 

“you’re dead, stupid,” you reply back, and the curl of your fingers takes your breath away a moment later. 

minho’s silent on the other end, and you drop the phone from between your ear and shoulder to the pillow beside you, tapping the speaker button on your screen. 

you know for certain he can hear the slick noises of your fingers bullying themselves inside your cunt. you’re so wet it’s just that loud, but he’d be able to hear it regardless. enhanced hearing and whatnot. 

any other time, minho would have barged inside the house you share with your best friend, door hinges be damned. 

see, minho knew your lease was coming to an end. you might have just skipped out on a few details in order to have one last bit of fun in your rental house for old time’s sake before moving in with him. minho has been to your place countless times, has walked in like he owns it more than you can remember. once you invited him inside, he could come and go as he pleased. and he did. 

your name was on the lease then, but it isn’t anymore. 

unbeknownst to your beautiful, beautiful minho, you signed the lease fully over to your best friend yesterday. now that the ownership of the house has changed, minho can’t come inside without your best friend’s explicit permission. which you oh so conveniently forgot to mention while he was on his way over. 

“you’re dead, stupid,” he mocks back. that’s true. he had to turn you. “jagi. let me inside.” 

“come in, lino,” you sing-song through the phone, teeth snagging your bottom lip while your fingers slip from your cunt to rub sloppy circles all over your clit. “i’m so lonely, my minho. i’m naked and lonely and no one is here to touch me…” 

he growls, and your teeth ache in response. you kick your feet in excitement. no matter how many times you tell him to come in, he won’t be able to, and you both know it. 

“where is she?” minho mutters. your best friend. “tell her to let me in. i’ll even ask her nicely.” 

you’re going to get it for laughing at his expense, but you can’t help but giggle. your best friend and your boyfriend share an unwavering, mutual respect for one another, yet they don’t always see eye to eye. some witchy-vampire thing that goes way back. 

“it’s a nice day today. i think you should stay outside a little longer and enjoy the sunlight. you’re wearing your ring, aren’t you?” oh, you’re definitely going to get it. 

but he’s so fun to play with. 

your head turns away from the phone fitfully as your fingers catch on the swollen little bud of your clit, legs spreading wider on their own accord. “oh, min- minho,” you whimper. you can see him now, cellphone pressed tight to his ear and nose angled high. he can hear you without the phone, and you know he can smell you too. 

that hitachi wand he bought you for your last birthday would feel so good right about now, but you’re too desperate to move your hand away from your cunt for even a second to grab it. 

“sweet jagi,” minho croons. you’d swear he was a siren if you didn’t know any better, voice tender and airy and so very enticing. “it feels so good, doesn’t it? but it could be better. you know i can do it better. stop and get your friend, alright? tell her to let me inside so we can play…” 

he’s back at the mouth of the door again. you can hear his fingers tapping on the wooden frame once more, and you shudder when you pull your fingers away from yourself. the desperation to make yourself cum is suddenly overridden by the desperation to finally obey your sire. you end the call and leave your phone on the bed, approaching your closed bedroom door without a second thought to spare. 

the door cracks open with a gentle push of your finger, and with a whiff of the air, you can tell that your best friend is in her bedroom on the other side of the house. she’s quick to answer when you call her name. 

she opens her door and leans against its frame. 

“yeees?” she asks slowly. she already knows what you want. 

“would you be a doll and let minho in? he’s- he’s been waiting outside.” you ask, making sure to bat your eyelashes and give her your best puppy dog eyes through your barely cracked open bedroom door. 

“what if i don’t want to?” 

“i could compel you, you know?” you’d can’t. you couldn’t compel a witch no matter how badly you wanted to. she cocks her head and the lights in your hall flicker. 

“ha! i’d like to see you try.” 

she loves to give you a hard time, but she dutifully leaves her post against her door and complains her way down the hall. 

“don’t ever involve me in one of your weird, vampire sex things again, you freaks. and light a candle when you’re done! i’m leaving, by the way. like, leaving right now.” you hear the jangle of her keys when she picks them up from the counter and rush to climb back onto your bed. “ah, wonderful. lee minho. please, come inside. or whatever.” 

it’s eerily silent when the front door slams shut. it has you giddy. your own heart pounding in your chest is the only thing you can hear, overpowering the rhythmic thump of minho’s heart pumping that you’d usually be keenly aware of.  

however, your nose tells you he’s in the house, but where? you have no clue.

you’re contemplating getting up and locking your bedroom door to really mess with him, but before you have the chance, it’s flying open and banging against the wall adjacent to it. minho’s on you in a flash, so quick that you can’t even get your bearings straight before he’s pressing you against the mattress and sliding a mean hand up your thigh. his hands are rough, but the little smile on his face is anything but. 

“you think you’re so funny, hm?” he asks, cocking his head and slipping two fingers right inside. “keeping me from what’s mine.” 

“i’m hilarious,” you breathe. “you tell me so all the time.” 

your hips buck against his probing fingers. he lets you ride them for a moment, but minho’s quick to pin you down by your thighs when he feels you’ve had enough. 

“you’re being a brat. i think it’s time you listen to me and do as you’re told. is that clear?” 

all you do is huff in response, and you turn your head away from him in defiance. 

“jagi. i’m not asking.” 

minho grips your cheeks in his hand until your lips poke out in a pout, and he forces your head to turn back towards him. your stomach flips in anticipation when your eyes lock; you know what’s coming. 

he kisses you softly on your pouted lips before his pupils begin to dilate, and yours immediately follow suit. 

“you’re going to keep playing with this needy pussy just like you did on the phone with me earlier, yeh? but just when you get close, right when you start to tumble over the edge, you’re going to pull your hands away. you were so mean to me, jagi, i think this is what you deserve. mm, yes. that’s good.”

“yes, that’s good,” you parrot, dazed and entranced, and he kisses you once more. 

minho blinks; you blink, and you shake your head free of his grasp. he laughs at the look of bewilderment on your face and thumbs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. 

“why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. wasn’t he just fussing at you for being a brat? 

“because i love you,” is all he says, and it still makes your heart race even though you can tell he’s up to something. minho pulls himself off of you and settles comfortably against the headboard. “you should continue what you were doing earlier.” 

it’s like your body moves on autopilot. you scoot as close to him as you physically can before throwing a leg over his and slipping your hand between your thighs. you’re surprised he’s letting you touch yourself at all after the stunt you pulled, but you won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. your gut tells you you’re missing something though, you just can’t put your finger on what. 

“it feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks against your hair. it does feel good. your pussy’s been soaked, and it’s pruning your fingers. you dip two fingers into your hole to gather more wetness to spread on your clit. a strangled gasp leaves your lips at the noise it makes, slick and dirty, and minho hums his own approval. 

he lets you use his thigh as leverage as you grind against your own fingers, leg pushing down on his whenever you drive your hips against your hand. 

“i’m gonna cum,” you whimper. you’ve waited so long. 

minho smiles and peppers a kiss to your ear. “yeah?” 

two sticky fingers press harshly down on your clit. you can feel your release coming, can almost taste it in the air. it burns in your belly, swirling and building as your hips thrum in their search for your pleasure. 

your cunt gives its first throb as you begin to cum, and your hand slips away before you can even register that it’s moving. 

the first instinct you have is to bring your hand back to finish the job, but you can’t. your mind won’t let you. a pained keen leaves your lips, and minho holds you while you squirm through a ruined orgasm. 

“m-minho! minho, nnnn- wha- what? why? minho, please!” 

a kiss to your cheek, a smile against your temple. 

“hm? what’s wrong, jagi?” 

“w-why? why? i can’t-”

“you can. do it again.” 

you tuck your face against his chest but readily comply. minho sits up straighter so he can hold you close, one arm around your shaking shoulders and the other arm resting on one of your spread thighs. your clit is sensitive, achy with an unexpectedly ruined orgasm. this time, this time you’ll cum, you swear it. 

your wrist is starting to hurt, but you don’t pay it any mind. you’re desperate to cum, desperate to cum for minho. so much so that you’re drooling into the cotton of his t-shirt. you open your mouth and clamp your teeth down on the fabric; minho doesn’t even react when you begin to gnaw on it. 

he knows what your frantic, garbled mumbling means the second you start, and he smells your tears before he sees them as you’re forced to ruin your second orgasm. 

your legs clamp shut this time in an attempt to feel any last dreg of pleasure, but minho is quick to pry them open and claw at your thigh until you’re whimpering. 

“aigoo, my baby. what are you crying for, hm?” 

“min- minho, minho, i don’t know wh- why i can’t. why? i want to cum!” you could throw a tantrum. you want to. you want to kick your legs and holler and roll around on your bed until you get your way. 

“silly, you’ve been cumming,” he coos, wiping your tears and licking the salty wetness from his thumb when he’s done. 

his hold on you changes every time you touch yourself. now, he holds you like a baby and rocks you gently while your fingers are squashed between your slicked thighs. your movement is tempered like this, but it still doesn’t stop you from trying to really make yourself cum again. 

your cramped, tired digits rub back and forth against your clit; it’s sensitive and achy due to two unsatisfying orgasms, but you don’t want to stop until you cum right. you can do it. minho sucks a deep kiss into the thrumming pulse point on your neck. 

“yes, yes, i- m’gonna cum, i can. i’ll cum, i’ll cum-”

the third ruined orgasm doesn’t come as a surprise, but it still makes you cry into his shirt when your hand slips from between your thighs without your permission. 

“alright, alright. enough of that. i hate seeing my jagi cry.” 

“no you don’t,” you snivel with a pitiful headbutt to his chest. 

“ah, you’re right. you’re so pretty when you do. i just want my turn now.” 

minho shucks off his drool-covered t-shirt and rearranges you until you’re laying on your back. your limbs barely work, flopping uselessly wherever minho manhandles them. you can’t even grab onto his hair when he bullies himself between your legs and kisses sloppily up your spread thighs.  

“i’m hungry,” minho purrs, and you tilt your hips up closer to his face. if he’s hungry, you’ll happily let him eat. he watches you arch your back and rock your hips with a glint in his eyes, letting you debase yourself for his viewing. your brain finally catches onto what he means when the white of his eyes turn dark red and his veins begin to protrude out from under them. 

you can’t complain too much when a sharp bite to your thigh is just as pleasurable in its own unique way. it’s euphoric. whether it’s because it’s minho who’s biting you or because of the venom in his saliva when his fangs elongate, you can't say. your body goes taut, hands clenching into fists at your side as minho’s fangs pierce the tender skin of your inner thigh. 

minho hums against your skin as he drinks. he doesn’t feed from your thighs as often as you feed from his, much prefers the intimacy of feeding from your neck or looking into your hazy eyes while he bites into your wrist. 

your blood is a delicacy to him, and you know it. he’s told you before, and you’ve experienced it yourself when you feed on him. vampire blood has a smoother aftertaste than that of humans or animals. minho closes his eyes and lets his hands pet at your sides while he feeds. 

it’s a shame when he pulls away, but you’re blessed with the sight of a sated minho. remnants of your blood drip from his fangs, smearing red across his swollen lips and his chin. you can feel your own mouth watering in response. pavlov’s dog. minho’s fledgling. 

“want,” is all you can manage through the rush of your near bloodlust, and minho’s arm snakes up to your open mouth. 

he doesn’t even flinch when your now extended fangs pierce the skin of his wrist, but he coos when your uncoordinated limbs move to hug his arm to your chest. 

you drink frantically from his wrist, wanting more more more, but you can only take so much at a time. his blood seeps slowly from the corners of your mouth in your haste to take in as much as you can before swallowing in needy gulps. 

all you’re focused on is the feel of his skin and his warm blood flooding your mouth, so you’re shocked out of your stupor when minho’s bloodied lips find the still slick heat of your cunt. his hand falls from your lips when you cry out, but he’s quick to cover your mouth with a rough palm so he can eat in peace. 

his red-stained tongue circles your clit like it’s candy, and when he burrows his face further into your cunt, some of your leftover blood smears against your pubic mound. 

you’re getting it all over, is what you want to say, but you can’t with his mean hand covering your mouth. 

minho’s fangs have since retracted to their normal length, but the residual saliva from his feed makes your cunt tingle in ways it only can when you come into contact with his venom. 

the sounds are filthy. you’re thankful it’s only you and minho in the house because there’s no doubt the noises coming from your bedroom are blaring. if it’s not the wet clicking noises of minho’s devious tongue flicking against your swollen clit, it’s the muffled cries you’re making behind his hand. 

if you were in your right mind, you’d notice he’s being even more thorough than usual when he eats your pussy. minho’s spit seeps down to your hole, and he uses two fingers to swipe it up before bullying them inside. 

“hugging me tight already,” he muses. minho purses his lips in a sloppy kiss and shakes his head from side to side while his fingers work you open. 

it’s not until the tingling on your clit fades into numbness that you realize what he’s doing, and your legs kick out in defiance. 

“mmmph!” it’s muffled by his hand that still covers your mouth, but you finally muster enough strength to shove his hand away. “minho! minho, no, please don’t be mean!” 

“i’m mean? oh, jagi. you were mean to me earlier, don’t you remember? i’m just giving you the punishment you deserve.” 

oh, if it’s not the consequences of your own actions. 

his tongue dips down to lick where his fingers spear you open, and you can’t feel it at all, nor can you feel his steadily thrusting fingers. 

“i-!” you’re going to cry again. “minho, i’m sorry! i just- i wanted to play, that’s all. i’m sorry. pleasepleaseplease don’t, i can’t feel- can’t feel anything.” 

“i’m sorry too, baby.” his voice is so sweet, so gentle. so condescending. “you made me do this.” 

you can only tell he removes his fingers because you see him do it. you weren’t lying when you told him you can’t feel anything down there, the venom left over from his feed numbing you inside and out due to his dexterous tongue and sneaky fingers. 

the slap to your pussy comes as a surprise. your breath catches on a gasp, throat clicking with viscous spit. it doesn’t hurt at all, but the sound of it is enough to have you trembling. 

his teeth are tinted red when he smiles that devil bunny smile you hate to love so much. minho doesn’t even bother taking his sweatpants off all the way, just tucks the band of them under his sac and situates himself on his knees between your spread legs. 

minho sheaths himself inside slowly. for whose benefit, you don’t know, but he grunts when he stills balls deep in your cunt. 

“so soft inside,” he murmurs. “such a wet pussy.” 

you’re pathetic; tears are already brimming in your eyes again. you want to feel how hard his cock is, you want to feel the way he makes a home for himself inside of you. 

“minho,” you mewl. “does it feel good? can’t- i can’t feel, you have to tell me. please tell me.” 

“your pussy is perfect.” 

that makes you whine. all you can do is lay there and let minho use your body to get off. your breasts bounce with his thrusts, he shifts you up the bed with how good he’s fucking you. 

his head hangs low as he watches himself slide into the gummy wetness of your cunt, hair dangling and bouncing when he moves. his hands are balled into fists, and they press against the mattress on either side of you. 

“my little doll,” he grits. “just a- ah, ahh fuck- a fuckhole. you were so mean, jagi, aren’t i so nice to fuck you still?” 

“yes! yes, fuck me! please, minho i was bad, i’m sorry. will you- keep- please, keep fucking me until you cum.” 

he pushes your knees to your chest and raises into a squat, his thighs press tightly against the backs of yours. his cock slips free and he’s the only one to fuss, but he takes the base of his cock in his hands and slaps the mushroom head against your clit. 

minho looks big like this. he towers over you, shoulders wide set and chest bulging. a droplet of sweat drips from a wet strand of hair and onto your cheek. he watches it roll down into your hairline as he sheaths himself inside again. the slick noises your cunt makes has your chest heating up right away, and minho catches your arms before they can reach up to cover your face. 

“take it. just let me in,” he says, and you nod. 

the angle is deeper this way; the slap of minho’s skin against yours is nearly deafening. 

“you’re clenching so hard on me, jagi. gonna cum, hm?” 

are you? can you? you can’t feel a thing. can’t feel the way his cock wrecks your little hole or the new addition of his fingers rubbing uselessly at the stiff bud of your clit. 

“i can’t fe- feel anything, minho, i dunno?!” you cry. your chin quivers when you look up at him, but there’s a frantic look in his eyes when he nods his head back at you. the laugh that bubbles out of his mouth is almost maniacal. 

“you’re going to. i don’t have to compel it out of you either, hm? ahh, jagi. oh, jagi, there. you’re cumming. you’re cumming, baby, i can feel it. keep-”

if he tells you so, you believe it. you must be cumming for him. the only further proof you need is the sudden burst of wetness you feel against your thighs. it’s loud, and your cunt contracts so violently that it pushes minho’s cock from inside, splashing against his stomach and soaking his sweatpants. 

a moan bursts from behind your lips when he slips inside again, and his own breathy moan follows suit. he loves your noises, loves how desperate and high pitched they get when you’re waiting for his cum, so you keep it up despite the lack of sensation you feel. he fucks you rough and fast in his haste to cum too, and you’re shamefully a little disheartened you can’t feel the overstimulation you know would be setting in by now. 

“please cum inside me. my minho, my minho, please? i love you. i love you. i’ll be good now, baby, please?” 

he stops breathing when he cums, pressing deep inside and stilling as he empties it inside where it belongs. his belly trembles and his thighs do too, and you’d giggle at the little whine that leaves his lips if you weren’t so focused on trying to feel his cum spilling inside despite your numbness. 

minho’s toes crack whenever he eases back on his haunches and guides his softening cock out of your hole. he doesn’t even bother pulling his pants all the way up before slumping to the side and smushing his cheek against your sweaty shoulder. 

he rests a small hand on his favorite emotional support boob while you both come down together. 

“i can’t believe you made me squirt and i didn’t even feel it,” you mumble. you squeeze your thighs together. still nothing, but you can feel his leaking cum smearing against the plush of your thighs. 

“i can’t believe you actually managed to uninvite me into this house on a technicality. that’s cruel. you’re cruel and mean.” 

“you can’t call me cruel and mean after i squirted for you!” 

minho jiggles your boob in his hand and pinches your nipple until you swat at him. 

“yeah, and now i have to walk out of here pantless.”

ok HI here are some facts if you've never seen the vampire diaries or just some facts about this universe specifically!

vampires have to be invited into a residence by the living owner of said residence. your rental house was leased by both you and your bestie, so you could invite him inside. now that ownership has changed to just your best friend, she is the only person who can. even after you died and became a vampire, he was still able to come inside since the ownership of the house hadn't changed. until now :)

the ring you mention to minho on the phone is a daylight ring. vampires will burn in the sunlight without it, so you and minho having a daylight ring is a necessity! even if you're inside and you walk by a window during the day without your ring on, your ass would catch on fire lmao

original vampires (the lee family... minho, felix, hoseok, taemin, chaeryeong?? shit, idk. i'm just naming lees i like lolll) are the first ever vampires to walk the earth. that's why they're called originals. original vampires can compel regular degular vampires (and humans, and vampire hybrids!) which is why minho is able to compel you. non-original vampires cannot compel other vampires, so it doesn't work the other way around, but they can compel humans.

compulsion is mainly done by making eye contact with whoever you want to compel and stating whatever it is that you want them to do. when someone is under compulsion, they won't remember the act of being compelled. so basically, you don't remember what minho made you do to yourself until he tells you about it afterwards, hence the dubcon tag. so in this case, he'll have to tell you he made you ruin your own orgasm three times as part of a punishment lmao

vampires can feed from other vampires, but it takes a very long time and a lot of dedication for it to be a sustainable way of life. it's very rare for that to happen, so you can feed on whatever you like! humans, animals, blood bags.... you and minho feed on each other in bed because it's sexy. not to actually gain nutrients. the numbing venom is something i came up with though, sorry i didn’t make that very clear, but i thought it would be a fun little addition!

i kind of wanted to touch on sire bonding, which could possibly have added more to the dubcon element, but i decided against it because i would have had to add sooo much more plot that i don't have the patience to write LMAO. if you have any questions about that though please ask! i'd be happy to explain what i had in mind :)

#so so good #thank you for cooking this up #favs

[vsmvz]

go cat go

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!!, 60s!au, chan is called chris, chris’ obsession with reader having a bush (pubic hair), car sex, exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, cunnilingus, daddy kink, a whole bunch of 60s lingo (i tried my best lmao), fingering, handjobs, lil bitty blowjob, featured changbin & hyunjin too! <3

a/n: inspired by the denim pics from chan’s nylon shoot and this post of mine! this is also a little thank u gift for helping me reach my next milestone!! i actually don’t think this is all that great, but still i had fun writing it! anyways, i love u guys so much 🩷

you’ve been wanting chris to bring you to the drive-in for weeks. work has been busy for the both of you, and you just want to spend time with your best guy and get out for a while.

yet here you sit, not paying a lick of attention to the flick playing on the big screen before you. 

he’d waited until the sound of music came out to take you because you had been looking forward to it for a while. he’s thoughtful like that, always listening to what you have to say and tucking your wishes into the back of his mind. 

it’s a heartwarming story. at least you’re sure it is, but you can’t concentrate on a single thing with chris’ veiny hand resting on your thigh the way it is. 

chris isn’t even doing anything crafty. his fingers drum against your bare skin occasionally when he likes a song, and he likes them all, nodding his head and tapping his foot to the rhythm. his other arm reclines on the rolled down window, drumming on the door every now and then. 

he’s a real hunk today; chris always dolls himself up for you before your dates. his black hair is slicked back in a messy quiff, with a few tendrils of curls left out to kiss his forehead. he’s wearing his new denim jacket too. you’d bought him that with your last paycheck from the diner and squealed when you saw him parked at the curb in front of your house earlier. his muscular body leaned up against the side of his red 1965 ford mustang while he waited for you to say goodbye to your parents. chris had opened the passenger door for you and planted a kiss square on your lips before buckling your seatbelt for you and rounding the car. 

you want him to kiss you again. you want his hand to slide up and touch you over your panties while the other couples in the cars around you eat their popcorn and watch the tuff new flick. 

some of them are already making out, you saw changbin and hyunjin kissing their girls not long after the movie began. in the same car, no less. 

one thing about your longtime boyfriend though, he’s paying more attention than you might think. 

“sweetheart? you’re awful quiet tonight,” chris hums. he squeezes your thigh, and you have to physically restrain yourself from sliding down in your seat so his hand can’t help but touch you where you need it most. 

chris is one step ahead of you though, and he always knows what you want, whether you tell him or not. 

his strong hand dips under your pink skirt. you don’t hesitate to spread your legs, and chris’ knobby fingers brush against the front of your panties. 

when you look at chris, his eyes are dark, but his ears are flushed a rosy pink. he looks back at you, almond eyes locking on yours before glancing down to your bunched up skirt. you know what he’s thinking because he perks up in his seat. 

“really?” chris whispers. he’s excited, and you have to bite your lip to contain the goofy smile from spreading on your face. “sugar, really?!” 

you nod your head and spread your legs wider, hiking the skirt further up your thighs to let him see your panties. he likes these, the white ones with a bow on the hem, but he likes what’s underneath better. especially now. his fingers rub at the mound of your cunt to feel the hair through your panties. the hair you let grow out because he asked you to, hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and cheeks pink. 

“can- can i see?” he asks. 

he waits until you hum your approval to push your panties to the side so he can see for himself. chris tongues his cheek, dimples popping when he sees your cunt glistening in the lights reflecting from the big screen. you’re already so wet it’s matting your pubic hair. 

“for me?” he asks. he’s fine when he gets like this, smug and confident like he knows you’re always ready for him. you can’t help but give him a hard time, so you roll your eyes. 

“who else, dip stick?” 

“hey!” chris pinches your thigh and sticks his tongue out at you when you giggle. 

you might have joked around for longer, but chris surprises you by bending over the center and shoving his face right in between your spread legs. he takes a long whiff, much to your embarrassment, nuzzling his cheek against your bush before gripping your thigh tight and tonguing at your achy clit. 

“christ, you smell so good like this, cherry.” 

chris is choice at this, his lips are plump and soft, and he's been with you long enough that he knows just how to focus on all your pleasure spots in order to get you panting in no time. it gets his woody up in no time too. 

“gonna- gonna have to roll the windows up, chris, please, i-!” you wheeze. you can’t help but be loud for him when he makes you feel so good. you’ve already lost all hope in paying attention to the flick, but you don’t want to disturb anybody else while they’re watching. 

“you don’t want everybody else to know how easy you are for me?” he teases, but his words have truth to them. they’re muffled against your cunt, and you can’t help but grind up against his face in agreement. 

“‘s just for you to know, chris. i’m just easy for you.” 

he likes that. he likes knowing you’ll slut yourself out to him and let him play with you whenever and however he wants. he likes knowing he can get your pussy leaking on the leather seats of his good looking car. 

it takes an act of congress to get him to sit up so he can crank the lever on the driver’s side door and roll his window up, and the second you do the same to your window he’s lapping at your cunt again. 

he sucks on your clit like it’s candy. you’re glad you rolled the windows up because your moans and cries were so loud already, no one else needs to hear the sloppy wet sounds of chris eating your pussy. your hand sneaks down to rest on his jaw, and your eyes roll whenever you feel it flexing as he eats away. 

“daddy, fuck!” you wail, and chris grunts. 

he readjusts your panties so he has more room to lick and pinches at your bush to pull up the skin on your pubic mound. his big, perfect nose is smushed against the crook of your thigh. 

you couldn’t school your facial expressions if you tried, jaw slackened with pleasure and eyes drooping. you almost kick the gear shift when chris’ tongue breaches your hole. your head thunks back against the headrest. 

embarrassingly enough, that’s when you make eye contact with changbin in the car beside you. the curly-headed man gives you a wink and a sly grin, his own eyes drooping; that’s when you notice the head bobbing in his lap. changbin’s got the girl’s red hair held in a makeshift ponytail in his hands. he waves it at you, and you turn away to whimper. 

“such a fox, baby,” chris growls, pulling away from your cunt just to spit down on it. he dives in again and his tongue flicks deftly at your swollen clit. 

you see stars when he pinches the lips of your cunt together and sucks them into his mouth too, and you’re humping his face so fiercely you’re sure his car is rocking. it’s not like anyone wouldn’t know what was happening anyways with your face looking the way it does and chris nowhere to be seen. 

much to your surprise, he pulls back before you can cum, and you tug on his hair in annoyance. 

“you buggin’, sugarpie?” he giggles. 

“yes, candyass! i was close!” 

chris laughs again and cocks his head, cracking his neck before pulling you across the center of the front seat. it’s a tight squeeze, but you’ll never say no to being pressed against your hunky cat’s strong chest. you’re pressed so close together that it’s a struggle to unzip his jeans and pull his cock out. 

“happy to see me?” you mumble against his cheek. chris’ cock is velvety soft but solid in your hand. you don’t even need to spit on the head because it’s leaking like a faucet already. 

“always happy to see you, sugar,” chris mumbles. you know he’s telling you the truth despite how distracted his voice sounds; he’s too busy watching the way your fist fucks his cock to pay attention to his tone. 

“a-ah, daddy, chris- christopher, aren’t you gonna touch me too?” 

chris drapes an arm over your shoulders to hold you and his other slides down to where your panties are still haphazardly pulled to the side. your pubic hair is soaked, matted and sticking together with your need. he hisses through his teeth when he feels it, and two of his fingers bracket your clit in a tight vee. he rubs you like that for a moment until he decides he wants to feel you inside, and those same two fingers travel down to curl themselves inside where you’re gummy and hot. 

“heh- you’re, oh wow. you’re soaked,” he muses. 

your arm bumps against his on every upstroke of your fist, but neither of you seem to care. 

“f-fuckin’ A. ‘cause’a you, daddy.” 

you don’t know who sounds messier at this point, you or chris. your pussy squelches loudly every time he fucks his thick, knobby fingers inside. your hand sounds slick when it polishes the tip of chris’ big cock. 

he won’t fuck you here and you know it, cumming like this is as good as you’re going to get in the drive-in. chris will take you home when the flick ends, walk you to your door, and kiss you on the cheek while your momma watches from the hallway. then he’ll sneak through your bedroom window after he parks his car around the block so your parents won’t know. that’s how he’ll fuck you, nice and deep and slow in your bed, and you’re already needy enough that you know you’ll have a hard time staying quiet. 

he’ll have to gag you with his fingers if you want to keep quiet at all. cover your mouth with his hand while he whispers in your ear about what a golden little slut you are. maybe he’ll quiet you down by shoving his cock in your mouth. 

“i want it inside,” you keen, and chris turns his head to speak against your temple. 

“wanna be inside too, wanna feel how- how warm you are. gonna squeeze me so tight, won’t ya?” you clench on his fingers to show him you will, and chris pulls you into a messy kiss. 

he still tastes like you, and you whimper when he licks along the ridges of your teeth. chan kisses like he does everything else, wholeheartedly and intense. his lips are plush and his tongue is slick and warm. 

the windows are starting to fog up, but you don’t have it in you to be embarrassed. chris is fucking into your fist just like you’re fucking against his fingers in your shared need to cum. he’s just as loud as you are, neck veins bulging and face heating up as he pulls away from your lips to moans openly for you. 

now that your mouth is free, you’re begging. 

“‘m so close, chris- daddy, i’m close! you can’t- can’t stop, please don’t stop. please, you can’t!” 

he’d never dream of it, but he loves to hear you beg regardless. chris’ fingers thrust steadily into your cunt, and the drag of his palm against your clit is enough to have you cumming. his arm tightens around your shoulders while you shiver apart. 

you don’t even notice that your hand has stopped moving on him, but that’s hardly a problem for your fella. his hips thrust into the grip of your fist, and before you can think twice, you’re returning the favor and leaning over to suck the tip of his cock into your mouth. 

chris gives you a choked off groan when he cums in your mouth, one hand squeezing at your shoulder as the other holds your hair back.

when you lean back up, he wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb and slips it into his mouth. 

you’re about to share another kiss when a piece of popcorn hits the passenger side window of chris’ car. 

“dinner and a show, huh?!” hyunjin whistles, and you roll the window down to see him better. his head is hanging out the window of changbin’s chevy camero, smushing the older male against the steering wheel. his hair’s askew, so you reckon he had the same dinner chris did. you wave at the two girls in their car. 

chris tucks your head against his chest and gives both of his friends the bird when changbin starts fake-moaning like a floozy, and all you can do is laugh. 

[vsmvz]

TITLE: Venom Eater

SUMMARY: Moving on proves its challenges. Not everyone has the ability to accept that what happened, happened - and what was, was. So as you try to lead a new life, single and trying to heal, the journey proves to be far from easy. It’s worse than difficult and more painful than what you could’ve imagined. The only comforting source is that what will be, will be. And there’s no changing that.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of breakups, exes, angst, arguments, swearing, smut, slices of life here and there, alcohol (Jisung is drunk but there isn’t much detail on it), confrontation.

WC: 6K+

TAGLIST: @emikisses @linos-kitten @chansbabygirlsstuff @lixiespick @frogieeheart @/fuckthinking @nimx9 @/shishou1687 @inniescandy-01 @konstanceee @/rose13255 @queenmea604

Venom Biter (Part 1) | MASTERLIST

A/N: the long-awaited part 2 to Venom Biter! This was originally meant to be longer but I decided that I wanted to flesh out the plot a little bit more so things will get worse and or better who knows…

There’s never a grey area about what people do after a terrible breakup. It’s always black and white. Whether someone cuts their hair, dyes it, alters their aesthetic, or goes on holiday to escape the reality. 

The gym can make for the perfect best friend to subtly take revenge on someone a person once had.

But your new best friend was Tinder. A platform of opportunities to explore and select at your perusal. Providing you with gorgeous men who were looking to fuck and nothing more than that. If Tinder wasn’t the buzz for you that night, it would be going out with friends - friends that didn’t include ones that you made through Minho. 

These ones’ you would only see about once every three months then band together again as if nothing has changed in the space between. It’s not awkward when you’re around them and so far, it has taken your mind off the past two months. Since then, your connection with Minho has been one of which where-

“God fuck I’m cumming!”

Minho knows he is too when his eyes screwed shut, laying back as he lets you use his cock, “shit, so am I,” he breathes out, watching you roll your hips in a frantic craze to get yourself over the edge. You miss this. 

The way that you squeeze around him is the final straw that breaks the camel's back. Minho swears towards the ceiling, back arching as his dick glides in deeper. Within a couple of seconds, his vision flashes just as white as your insides that he fills. 

The top half of your body flops forward onto his chest, spent from the past fifteen minutes that you’ve been riding him non-stop. Now it’s almost possible to hear the rapid thumping of his heartbeat that violently bashes from within. Not wanting to stay in that position for any longer, you peel yourself back, hopping off his body. 

“I need you out by seven,” you declare, picking up his sweatpants and t-shirt from the floor and then throwing them right at him. 

Minho grumbles but doesn’t flinch, “seven? Fucking hell.”

“Well, I have to go to work so you’re not staying.” 

“I figured that,” he fusses before sitting up. “At least let me use your gym here.” 

You pause for a second to look at him, wondering where he gets his audacity from sometimes, “fine.” 

“Thank you,” he replies then starts donning his clothes as you make your way to the bathroom for a hot shower. 

This is what it’s been like for a while now - a pernicious seesaw effect of meeting up with Minho, sleeping with him (usually in the mornings), and going about your day as if he wasn’t in your guts twenty minutes ago. 

It’s always a good feeling in the moment but after, there’s a lingering icky weight that you’re tirelessly towing along with you wherever you go. You’re not sure if Minho feels the same because even though you’ve talked to him a few times, there’s no talk of each other's feelings anymore. It’s not that neither of you are ready for that looming and tender conversation. It’s just as if there’s no point. 

By the time you were out of the shower, Minho was still on the edge of your bed, fully clothed and ready to leave. 

“I’m not making you breakfast,” you say to him, wrapping the towel around your body a little tighter. 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to,” he responds. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until the end of the day, because I need to get ready for work.”

He groans, getting fed up, “surely you can get ready and listen at the same time.” 

You rustle through your drawers for a pair of underwear and bra, “to other people maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you want to use the gym, go now,” you instruct sternly, hoping that he’ll just disappear. 

When he detects that he can’t get through to you right now, he gives up. It’s too early to argue, so places his hand on the door handle, opening it for himself to leave and head down to the first floor, leaving you to prepare for another day’s work in peace.

After a quick breakfast, getting dressed and decent, you grab your bags and depart. On your way out, you spot Minho using the weights while you dart past the foyer, briefly thinking about how the time to cut him off is fast approaching. 

You can’t keep doing this. There’s no way to move on if you’re both still latched onto each other's ankles like how kids are with their parents. That need for one another is still present. 

“Who even am I when I’m not with you?” Minho asked you two weeks into sleeping with him again after breaking up. His comment sums up the reason of ‘why you decide to keep running back to each other’.

It’s not a hard statement to understand. You’ve been with Minho for a long time, you’re both still young and haven’t dated anyone else except between yourselves. It’s like being a dog that was never socialised as a puppy, unable to interact with others because it’s not sure how. 

Suppose it’s the fear and anxiety that comes with separating from your favourite person. 

The world and society have become scarier than it previously was and life is not as secure when you’re not with the person who can shield you from those things. There’s no comfort, only pure vulnerability, and what better way to feel protected than to return to a lover even when there’s nothing but a feeble spark that’s left over from what was once a blazing forest fire. 

Seungmin challenges that particular view of yours at dinner with Felix as well after a long day at work. He wanted to see where you were coming from but also because he’s there to force feed you the icy, sobering truth when you don’t want to hear it. 

“If there’s no romance, what’s the point of going back to each other?” he asks. 

“They were dating for years Seungmin, you don’t just get over someone that quickly,” Felix responds instead like he was the one being offended.

Dissimilar to Seungmin, Lix will let you down gently and is afraid to hurt you with the sharp use of words that can be sometimes. 

“Supposedly,” you mutter to yourself knowing full well how fast it was for Minho to just go ahead and fuck someone else after you had broken up. 

“Do you still love him?” Seungmin questions swiftly. 

“No,” you respond promptly. 

“If there was an opportunity to get back together with him, would you go for it?” 

“No,” you answer again. “I couldn’t.” 

Felix blinks, not expecting that answer, “well…then…”

“Then stop seeing him if you know what’s good for you,” Seungmin continues. “Those icky feelings that you get after sleeping with him - not good. That’s the regret you’re experiencing and it’ll never feel any better.”

There’s no crack or fault in his advice. Had you not dished out the truth about the details of your messy breakup before and after, you would’ve still been glued to the same spot. It’s important to have someone humble you, and there’s no better person to do that than Seungmin. 

“Just keep thinking about it, okay? On another note, Hyunjin’s coming back from France next week so we’re having a dinner and drinks,” Seungmin mentions. 

Your mind briefly departs from the subject of your ex, “is he? Has it really been that long?”

“Yeah,” Felix replies, also surprised. “You’re coming right? We’re going to have a few drinks too, and catch up.”

“What time?” You ask.

“Around six,” Seungmin answers. “Does Minho know?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you shrug, the thought of him returning to your mind once again. “I don’t know if he’d have any interest in going since they’re not friends anymore.” 

Felix recalls that factor, “that’s right. But, if the rest of us are going to be there, we should invite him too, no? Unless it’s too difficult for y-”

“It won’t be difficult,” you reply, punctuating the rest of Felix’s sentence a little too quickly. “He and I can get along for about…ten minutes before things go sour. Plus, I don’t mind not going if he wants to. I can always catch up with Hyunjin another day.” 

“You’re our friend too, remember? Don’t let your asshole of an ex-boyfriend stop you from seeing us. You broke up with him, not us,” Seungmin sends you a powerful reminder. “I’ll have a chat with him so that you don’t have to.”

He has a full understanding that if you and Minho were to attempt another civil conversation, it’ll go haywire and lead to more regret that you don’t need to be feeling right now. It just goes to prove that he’s beyond correct to even assume that fact.

The minute you both try to convey how or what it is that you’re both feeling, tensions boil over. For some reason that tension is only resolved by being bent over the nearest surface and fucking it out together. 

It’s not healthy. 

You go to remind Minho of what he did to you which he hates hearing, not because he denies it but because he does truly feel guilty. His only saving grace to that argument was that you had both technically broken up, meaning there were no ties to one another afterwards. Still, he missed the point of the fact that he hurt you as a result of those actions. It was too fresh to have done that to you.

Even when he recognised that factor, it was hard for him to accept that he actually caused you some form of irreversible emotional harm

However, Seungmin was right in the fact that you broke up with Minho and not your friend which enabled you to leave that dinner feeling a bit better and with a clearer judgement about going forward with a decision to cut all ties with Minho. It wasn’t something to look forward to. 

But what was, is the dinner in the upcoming week. It’s the prime opportunity to see everyone again for the first time in over a month. 

Despite your collection of text messages and calls from the likes of Chan, Jisung, Changbin and others, it was hard to associate yourselves with them in fear that all they’ll do is unintentionally remind you of Minho. It was the same way he felt when he was clearing out his house - not wanting to be around anyone or anything that would refresh his memory of you. 

Now, all you want to do is move on. 

Work had a helping hand in that process. Having been so busy with things piling up, your mind was free from Minho during the day. You were able to focus on tasks instead of wallowing and thinking about whether or not to give him a second chance

If it weren’t for Seungmin texting you the details of the upcoming dinner, work-life would’ve swallowed you up whole and made you forget. 

From Minnie: 6 pm we’re meeting up, Also, just a heads up, Minho said he’s coming. Take it with a grain of salt though bc he might change his mind. 

To Minnie: Thank you :)

You inhale a breath of fresh air. Going to this dinner was necessary whether it was going to be difficult or not. The presence of Minho wasn’t going to stop you from seeing your friends, and with that, you decide to get ready and head straight to the venue. 

The restaurant has a separate open area for functions and tables people can book out. The dim golden lighting brings a warm and cosy vibe to the venue, coupled with a beautiful earthy aroma from reed diffusers distributed around the place and the smell of promised good food. It’s a relatively fancy setting, but not to a degree where you would be denied entry if you didn’t meet a dress code. 

As you walk further down, you can already see Chan and Jisung chatting up a storm in the corner while they wait for the others. It’s a relief that not many people have made it so far in order to keep as low of a profile as possible and to not draw attention to yourself. However, little by little, they will definitely notice you’re there. 

Jisung is the first to spot you, his jaw becomes unhinged as he drags himself out of the booth, speeds over with his face lit up, and throws his arms around you in a bone crushing hug. He nearly squeezes and shifts all of your organs out of place. 

“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” he exclaims loudly in your ear. 

Chan laughs in the distance at his best friend's behaviour, “let her breathe Jisung.” 

He releases your body for a rush of oxygen to surge back to your brain, “sorry, I just can’t help the fact that I haven’t seen you in a month!” 

“You Facetimed me Jisung,” reminding him of that one and only time you accepted him reaching out to you to see if you were okay. 

“That’s completely different, anyway sit down,” he offers. “I’ll get you a drink.” 

Without wanting to hear any protest from you, Jisung darts off to the bar nearby, ordering a beverage or two. Chan then waves out, ushering you to come and sit before you walk towards the booth. 

“If I had gone another week without seeing you, I’d probably start to forget what you look like,” Chan jokes, patting his hand down on the space of cushion beside him for you to sit. 

“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” you respond. 

The second you’re seated, you can already feel Chan’s mind trying to intrude yours. There’s no point in lying to him when he’s akin to one of those Occlumens from Harry Potter, an all knowing person who can hear every one of your thoughts at will. Regardless of the fact that he’s not, it’s his parental nature which exudes that. 

“Going okay?” He asks you. 

You take a deep breath in and sigh out, “I could be worse.”

“You’re still here though,” he responds wisely. “And so are we.” 

Chan never wanted to ask why you never told them or came to them when you first broke up with Minho. They all had to find out through one another then needed to text or ring you to confirm that it was actually real. However, they all knew that you must’ve had your reasons. Naturally, it would’ve been tough to accept let alone leaning on your close friends for support. 

“Thank you,” you respond. 

“Here we go,” Jisung calls out, carefully returning with two different types of cocktails. “They’re both strong as hell so don’t try to choose.” 

“Not that you’d have it any other way right?” you reply, helping him with the glasses as he sits down beside you. 

He pats your head as he goes to sit down and slings his arm around your shoulder, “you know me too well. Anyway, Changbin and Hyunjin are here. He just texted me before.” 

Chan sulks, “what? No! he was supposed to wait until everyone else was here.” 

“To be fair, they were meant to be here twenty minutes ago so Changbin is actually on time,” Jisung responds. “Anyway, how are you missy?” 

“Better now that I’m with you guys,” you answer, giving him a bit of a friendly nudge before leaning into him.

Jisung grins, genuinely relieved on the inside to hear that you are. Not that you have been able to notice, but they were all worried for you at one point. The lack of information regarding your whereabouts or even the state of your well-being was concerning. It was almost like you had dropped off the face of the earth at one point, right up until you finally made the decision to start accepting people trying to contact you. 

Unfortunately for your friends, they had to learn about what you were up to through Minho, and even today, you’re not sure if what he said to them was the truth. Nonetheless, they all knew at the end of the day, if they were ever unsure or suspicious of what he was feeding to them, they were mature enough to come to you to double check. If they were able to get through to you. 

“Good. Now come back and hang out with me because these guys are boring.” 

Chan goes to lift a finger and point across at Jisung to object his statement before Changbin rounds the corner with Hyunjin trailing at his side. 

The last you saw him was some five years ago, just before he went away to an arts’ school in France to study. Now he returns taller with much more cut and distinct features and a head of light brown hair that’s visibly eclipsed his natural jet-black colour. Despite that, he also seems softer or shy when he gives everyone at the table a half smile. 

“Who’d you say was boring?” Changbin prods into the conversation. 

Jisung points up with his beverage in hand, “you and Hyunjin!”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows knit together with worry, “is he drunk already?” 

A bright smile fashions on Changbin’s face when he notices you, “Y//N! Now it’s two welcome home parties!” 

Hyunjin turns to look down at you in surprise, “have you been away as well?”

His question serves as a reminder that he has been relatively out of the loop since he’s been gone – not that you expected him to be fully aware of everything since he probably had better things to do. Hyunjin was still active in the group chat, but none of you prefer to communicate that way when hanging out is the better option. Whilst he’s missed out on a lot of stuff that’s happened, he hasn’t been so oblivious to other things. 

“Not exactly,” you respond awkwardly. “But welcome back by the way.”

He smiles softly, “thank you.”

The get-together officially kicked off when Jeongin, Seungmin, and Felix arrived just before the second round of drinks was ordered. Everyone was happy to have Hyunjin back. Even for you, it was nice to see him again after so long – it was nice to see everyone in general. The setting was reminiscent of old times when everyone banded together. Whether it was at karaoke, dinner, a bar, someone’s house, or at some event, it’s always a good feeling when you’re around them. 

It leads you to feel slightly upset that you haven’t seen them in so long. You’ve missed hearing their laughs, their jokes, and the safety that you feel too. But for a very painfully obvious reason, none of it seems to be the same without Minho. 

“Didn’t show up did he?” Seungmin, who had been chatting up a storm with someone at the bar, walks over and takes a seat opposite you at the cornered booth. Just about all of them were alternating from the table to the bar, and a space they’d found to stand up to talk, or in Jisung’s case, dance by himself. 

“Mm,” you mumble. “Which I’m sure is a good thing.” 

He shrugs carelessly but with a small grin, “for your benefit. Not that I’m an expert in relationship problems but I can speak from personal experience.” 

“That’s true,” you respond, remembering that he has in fact had his heart broken a few times by the same person. 

Luckily for him, he’s ceased the chase and gave an account the other day at dinner of how freeing it was to be his own individual. It’s something you can only hope to achieve at this point – to be liberated from that sticky dependency you have on Minho. 

It’s not love that you feel for him anymore, you’re sure of it. But it’s similar to a violent craving. His skin, voice – oh his voice. Everything about his body has you itching under the surface to have him by your side even though things end in a fiery argument, which is usually how it goes. 

It wasn’t love anymore. It was dependency. A type of separation anxiety that fills you up with this icy cold feeling that won’t go away until you specifically have Minho near you. Still, deep down, you knew you didn’t love him anymore. 

“Is Jisung okay?” Hyunjin ticks his head towards his friends’ direction. 

Judging by the fact that Chan was holding a barely conscious Jisung up was a clear indicator that he definitely wasn’t okay. Never has he been able to handle his alcohol well and it was evident by the lack of control over his own body. 

Seungmin looks over concernedly then looks down at his phone to check the time, “shit, I have to take him home too.” 

He abandons you briefly to help out Chan. Both of them collectively agree that Jisung needs to go home or at the very least be removed from the bar to sober up. They take him to an empty table nearby and ask the bartender for some water. Meanwhile, Hyunjin turns a blind eye to the chaos and talks to you instead.

“How have you been Y/N?” He asks. 

“Yeah, good. You? How was France?”

By the look on his face, it was as if your question brought back a whole heap of good memories to the forefront of his mind, “I couldn’t have asked for a better experience.” 

“That’s good to hear,” you reply. “So have you graduated already?” 

“Three months from now I will be,” he answers. “Why? You wanna come watch me walk across the stage over there?” 

You consider his offer, “what if I said ‘yes’ to that?” 

“Then I’d be over the moon,” Hyunjin emphasises then offers a brilliant suggestion that springs into his mind. “In turn, maybe I can show you around France and all the places I went to.”

“Is that a deal then?” 

“Sounds like a solid deal to me,” he responds and whether he was joking or not, either way, it seemed a pleasant idea. 

During the last hour of the dinner, you spent having an in-depth conversation with Hyunjin. From what he got up to in France, what he wants to do in the future, then covered what you’ve been doing as well

The topic of your ex-boyfriend was difficult to navigate, but you managed it well by diverting to another subject. The last thing you wanted to talk about was Minho for fear that the more you think about him, the more you’d want him. 

Then again, you’re reminded once more of the fact that Hyunjin and Minho aren’t friends. He may not have any interest in him whatsoever. But it’s not like they left each other on horrendous terms. Not like how you and Minho did. Plus, it’s hard to see this fresh shade of Hyunjin in front of you, hating anyone he doesn’t like or doesn’t know. 

The Hyunjin from five years ago would’ve held a grudge, but now you can see by his shift in personality, that he’s let it go. 

When it came down to having to leave, everyone seemed to have their own plans. Seungmin would have the misfortune of taking care of Jisung. Felix, Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Changbin decided to go bar hopping while they were still stable on their feet and even encouraged you to come with them. It took a lot of convincing to tell them ‘no’ after you were set on heading home to the comfort of your own space.  

Seungmin assured Chan that he was fine to handle Jisung, then thought it would be a polite gesture to accompany your side when you decided to walk home, regardless if it was only a minute's commute from the restaurant. 

“How are you holding up?” Chan addresses the elephant in the room. 

His question could be seen a mile away. It made you wonder if that was the reason he chose to walk you home since his place is in the opposite direction. Although he wasn’t confronting you, that’s exactly what it felt like. 

“Somewhat okay, I suppose,” you answer. 

“No, how are you really? We see Minho all the time. In fact, he won’t leave us alone. But we haven’t seen you,” he responds. “You can still hang out with us you know?” 

“I know that,” you almost whine, especially after offering your ear to Jisung just for him to repeat the same words for over two hours. “I’ve been busy.” 

“I guess being busy is a positive.”

“It’s when there’s nothing to do or I don’t feel good and I don’t have anyone around,” you respond and both come to a halt when you reach the entrance to your apartment building. “That’s the hardest.”

“That’s when you call us,” Chan says strictly. “I know you know this too, but all of us would drop whatever it is that we’re doing to come and help you. Not just Minho, even though I had some reservations about seeing him after what he did.” 

The last parts of his words surprised you. Chan actually thought about cutting Minho off too when he found out what happened…

“So he did tell you everything.”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Including everything that you’ve both been up to now. Like how you still see each other now and then – and not for the reasons I had hoped. So why do you keep seeing him when you want to move on?”

Your eyes narrow at him, “how do you even know that I want to move on?” 

“The fact that you still sleep with him but won’t pursue any sort of communication to get back with him romantically, says a lot Y/N. And I know that because he’s told me,” Chan answers bitterly, but not in a nasty way. “Your body might miss him, but I know your mind doesn’t.”

He’s bitten through the truth which you can’t seem to, his elderly brother-type personality forces you to see reason. You’d be offended if Minho tried to initiate a conversation about wanting to get back together, knowing that he’s not in any position to be making requests after what he did. 

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You ask tiredly. 

“I want what’s best for you,” he says. “Yes, Minho too in some way, but I told him he needed to figure out what he did on his own because I can’t help him with that. That’s his punishment.” 

You supress a laugh, “thank you.” 

Your short talk with Chan made you realise how empty your cup had been since you last saw him – since you last saw all of your friends under one roof. It was rewarding and it felt like home to be near them. However, his words weren’t there for you to just defer from. You had to listen to him. He was right in saying that your body misses Minho but your mind doesn’t because the next time he came around, you swore to yourself that it was going to be the last time you saw him.  

But it needed a conversation, one that you weren’t even sure if you were ready to have, too scared to rip that band aid off. 

As you don your bra back on and shimmy on your underwear that Minho almost tore off, you think of all the possible ways to approach this situation, bearing in mind that it does have the potential to blow up. 

“W-We need to talk,” you stammer, wondering if that’s a good way to start. It’s a start, that’s all that matters. 

Minho stares at you from the other side of your bed, halfway through putting on his t-shirt, “okay, what about?” 

Without any warning, you blurted out what needed to - what must be said, “we should stop seeing each other.”  

Heavy silence drapes over the room, except for the cogs working overtime in Minho’s brain, trying to decode your words could almost be heard. You can most definitely see it on his deadpan face. It illuminates the seriousness of the situation compared to what it was five minutes ago.

“Can you give me some more detail about that?” He requests. 

“I just don’t think it’s healthy that we continue to sleep with each other when we’re not going to get back together,” you inform him. 

“You don’t want to get back together?” Minho poses the long awaited question that hurts to even conjure an answer. 

“Be honest, we’d be together right now if you knew that I was serious about it,” you say truthfully. “I’ll never not love you, but I can’t love you in the way that I used to.” 

The sheer surprise of the conversation made Minho realise that he’s been consuming too much of a good thing. That he actually wasn’t prepared to talk to you about this. It’s been creeping around the back of his mind since you both started seeing each other casually but ignored it so as to spend as much time with you as he could even though you weren’t with him anymore. 

“Right.”

“Look, just…don’t go cold on me, because I do want to talk to you about these things,” you plead with him. 

“Such as?”

“Such as our friends,” you start off. “All of us hang out a lot, but I didn’t want our…breakup to stop either one of us from seeing them. They’re your friends and mine too. I’d hate for us to be driven away from them because we can’t coexist anymore.” 

“Fair enough.” 

You can sense that he’s already starting to shut down. An obvious coping mechanism that’s triggered by something he wasn’t prepared to hear. But while the final shreds of his rationality are still with you in the room, you make haste, and dish out the important points he needs to know.

“We might not ever be friends again even though that’s not what I’m hoping for-“

Minho stands up from the edge of your bed, cutting the rest of your sentence off in the process, “if you’re serious about everything that you just said, then I don’t want to see you text or call me first asking me to come over. This isn’t a one-sided deal that only applies to me, you have to stick to it as well.” 

“This isn’t even a deal Minho. I am telling you not to.” 

“What? Telling me ‘not to’ because you can’t control yourself around me? Fine. I don’t know if you realise this, but the majority of the texts between the both of us, are mainly sent from you - you asking for me, telling me how lonely you are, or how much you miss my body. So don’t start handing out instructions when you’re not going to adhere to them as well.”

There’s a viper-like sting to his words that keeps piercing your resolve. A truthful sting that seeps poison into your blood, making you feel sick and cold. He’s torn you off your high horse for a moment, bringing you back down to earth to realise that it’s not just him who needs to see reason as well.

He had a very strong argument.

Minho sighs and tails more information to his tangent, “look I will do whatever it is that you want me to do. But, if this is what you want, then you can’t deny that it will only work one way.” 

There’s an efflorescence of achiness in your chest. A familiar one that you felt in the early days after breaking up with Minho. It was the same one you would feel whenever you’d have to lock the door to the spare bedroom in his house whenever he bought someone else over. 

Heartbreak. 

It lingers when he finally leaves with the promise of never reaching out to you again, at least for sex because there was no way of avoiding him in the future. That fact was impossible to refute. But this is what breakups consist of. Not one hairline shy off of being messy. It could, though, be much worse. That’s as much you had to be grateful for when you have to start from square one all over again.

Changing things up was necessary. You had already moved out from Minho’s, which there was no choice behind, but that meant new scenery. Different places to peruse in your own time that you hadn’t yet ever since you had moved out

It opened up new opportunities to visit some local things, especially on your way back home from work as you decide to call into a small cafe.  

Soft bossa nova plays calmly in the background as you stand and deliberate on something sweet to take home with you for after dinner. If it weren’t for the many niche options to select from, you would’ve almost missed the voice talking from beside you. 

“I heard the matcha bread is nice here.”

Your surprise gets the better of you, almost forgetting how to speak for a split second when you see a familiar tall figure you met once more from the other week. 

“Hyunjin?”

“Hey,” he smiles. “Wanna sit down together?”

You end up ordering yourself a warm drink and a sweet pastry to go while Hyunjin found a small table right in the crook of the cafe. His sudden appearance was rather pleasant, allowing you to divert from your own thoughts for a bit. Plus, it’s always nice to sit and chat with a friend. 

“I thought you might’ve been here to meet up with one of the others,” you say to him. 

Hyunjin nods, putting his coffee down, “I just spent the last couple of hours helping Changbin buy clothes just down the road at one of the shopping centres, so that’s where I came from.”

You smile, “well he trusts you more than the others in that department.”

“As he should,” Hyunjin grins softly. “How are you?” 

“I’m well, I just finished work and was heading home,” you respond.

“I’m not keeping you from going am I?” He asks politely.

“No, not at all,” You quickly exclaim. “The longer I stay, the more of an excuse I have not to do the mountain of things I need to for work.” 

Hyunjin chuckles, “well, as long as it doesn’t get you into trouble with your colleagues.”

“I should be fine,” you hope. 

“You know, when I think about it, you and I never really spoke that much back then,” he points out. “I only just realised that from last week when I saw you again.” 

His comment makes you think back too

Hyunjin was definitely part of your friend group, but not one who you would hang out with individually or with another person. He was just there, almost like he was known to you by association. Aside from the fact that he’s well-mannered and kind, the only aspect of his personality that seemed to have changed is how boisterous he used to be.

Although, that’s to be expected when people mature and cross the bridge from adolescence to adulthood. 

“True enough,” you reply and start snickering when you remember something funny. “But I have good memories of you though. Like when you threw that bottle at Jisung.”

Hyunjin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, “I remember that. I could’ve killed him with that too.”

“Or when Chan had to pull you up from the train tracks because you fell off the platform and got stuck,” you add on.

“Most of those memories seem to have some type of mortal peril attached to it,” Hyunjin discovers. 

“You were young,” you remind him tenderly. “They make for the best memories anyway.” 

He agrees, staring into a space on the table as he reminisces, “true. So much has changed since I got back. I feel like I’ve missed out on growing up with you all even though we were just teenagers back then and adults now.” 

“Maybe, but we’re still young though and some have more growing up to do than others,” you hint very cryptically at one person who automatically springs to mind. “So don’t feel sad that you’ve missed out when there’s still a lot for us out there.” 

Hyunjin sits a bit more comfortably knowing that. As you both continue to talk, he realises how much you’ve changed yet somehow remained the same. You grew into your features, enhancing what was already there to a finer degree. Your looks were Hyunjin’s first impression of you when you first met as devious young teenagers. 

That was before he discovered that you are as kind and cool as you come across. But you were just distant friends back then. Now, Hyunjin detected a space for that to potentially change. He wanted to get to know the friend he hung out with here and there.

Even though time threatened to cut the starting opportunity short, it was still a start nonetheless, and Hyunjin was confident that there would be other times to arrive as well. So as the baristas begin cleaning up behind the counter and around the cafe, both you and Hyunjin took it as a sign that it was probably time to head off. You both take your belongings, thank the staff on your way out and head into the night. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin says to you. “We should get coffee again sometime.” 

You nod, “I’d love that. I still have your number.” 

“So do I,” he replies. “What way are you heading?” 

“I’m just literally around the corner, not even a minute away,” you answer. 

“Okay, I’ll look forward to your text then,” he says. 

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

[vsmvz]

「Drabble Challenge」 · #1

INSATIABLE ➥ Chris is not even subtle about how much he wants to fuck you, but he's never dared to verbalize it. Meanwhile, all he had to do was ask.

➥ Boyfriend!Minho x Reader (f) x Chris — 2.4k

➥ Prompt(s) requested: 18, 65, 95

➥ The author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place in this work to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to proceed at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

⚠ — Consensual non-monogamy, hotwifing, objectifying language.

“I don’t know. Have you considered inviting a bull?”

Granted, two bottles of wine were already TKO’d when Chris dropped that ‘suggestion’ about spicing up his best friends’ sex lives. You and Minho exchanged knowing looks over the dinner table. Thank fuck he possessed unbreakable poise, otherwise you would have howled with laughter five sentences ago.

“So you want to sleep with my girlfriend,” Minho slowly sank his fork inside the creamy tiramisu.

“I didn’t say that.”

“What did you say then?”

“I’m just saying that monogamy is a social construct,” Chris slightly slurred, “Research shows that couples can enjoy different sexual partners and still maintain a healthy and happy relationship.”

“Send me a link to that article if it actually exists,” Minho finally cut to the chase, “You’ve been openly thirsting for years, man. Everybody and their brother knows how you have the hots for my girl. Just say you want to fuck her.”

Chris took a few seconds to examine his former roommate’s face. Yes, he did make ultra bold declarations about you over a decade, to your face for that matter, but it was always under the disguise of banter. You know, unnecessarily close friends did that shit to each other, but it didn’t have to mean anything.

Except in his case, it fucking did.

He didn’t know if he was mustering courage or being utterly stupid, but courtesy of the wine invading his entire cardiovascular system, he blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Fine.”

“Fine what?” Minho cocked a single brow.

“Fine, I want to fuck her. Happy?” he downed his entire glass, slowly crossing the line between flustered and annoyed.

You and Minho exchange another look. His poise had cracked a little bit by the reaction he elicited from his friend, and he was smirking at you.

“What do you say, baby?”

You had known this man almost all your life. You had seen him barely clothed around the house time and time again on scorching summer days, and his figure barely left anything to the imagination. You still eyed Chris up and down hyperbolically inappropriately as if you were about to pick a horse for the race of your life. 

“Bulked up since he moved out,” you shoved the last bite of tiramisu into your mouth, “I’m game.”

Chris’ entire demeanor changed in slow motion, and his life started flashing before his eyes like he was going to die soon. That one dance you shared during college prom where he tried to hide his erection from you for the rest of the night, all those beach days where you were technically naked in front of him, the car rides where you were crammed in the backseat on top of each other, the random cuddles where you slept on his chest…

“Wait, are you serious?” he pinched his thighs under the table for a reality check, “So, like, what, you wanna watch us fuck?”

“If my lady wants me there.”

“You do know they call me Mr. Steal Your Girl for a reason, right?”

“I’m not even remotely insecure,” Minho shrugged and got up to help you clear the table, “but no kissing. That’s my only rule.”

You and Minho had properly fried the poor guy’s brain, and he was still contemplating whether you were fucking with him or not. He missed two-thirds of what was happening in the movie you all watched after dinner because of his neverending internal soliloquy. You had always been a trio, even roommates at one point, but you were friends.

Which never once stopped him from having confusing feelings for you, but he had to make do.

“Crash here tonight. You’ve had too much to drink,” Minho turned off the TV once the credits started rolling, “I’ll go take a shower, then hit the bed.”

“Good night, baby,” you kissed Minho and sent him off with a slap on his ass. 

Chris still had an utterly blank look in his bloodshot eyes. He was so going to have a hangover the day after judging by the way he was rubbing his temples. Without saying anything, you went to the kitchen and brought back two tall glasses filled with effervescent water and set them on the coffee table coasters. The ice-cold liquid helped alleviate some of the drowsiness and knocked a granular amount of sense into Chris.

“I didn’t know you and Minho had an open relationship,” he finally spoke with a small voice, “How long has this been going on?”

“We don’t,” you explained, “We just sometimes invite people into our bed.”

So that wasn’t some sick prank or anything. The ‘suggestion’ he thought he was being so slick about was a goddamn reality of this household.

“But why?”

“Because research shows couples can enjoy different sexual partners, and still love each other,” you warmly smiled at him.

The questions in his head multiplied. Since when? Had this been a thing all along? After you two moved in together? Wasn’t Minho jealous? Weren’t you jealous sharing him with other people? Didn’t this damage your relationship at all? How come you didn’t resent each other?

But more importantly, why did he fucking hear about this now?

“Is he– is he also…?”

“He’s never invited someone for himself if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then… Why– Why do you…? I mean…”

You chuckled. It was obvious Chris was trying to satisfy his curiosity without stepping on a landmine, and it was so fucking cute to watch.

“I have a very high sex drive, and Minho has trouble catching up sometimes,” you confessed, “but I think you know that already.”

Well…

Part of the reason you had been haunting him for so long was the fact that you and Minho weren’t exactly known for being a quiet couple. Chris had inadvertently been a part of your bedroom many times through the wall you shared, and unfortunately for his excessively horny self, he currently held an honorary Ph.D. in everything you liked in bed.

“How would I know?” he attempted not to show color by showing all of his colors at once.

“Physics, Chrissy. If you can hear me through the wall, I can also hear you jerking off.”

His ears suddenly reddened, which was the telltale sign of his mortification. Even after all these years, he hadn’t changed one bit. You were about to combust due to acute endearment aggression.

“Which means… We can really…?”

“If you want to,” you acknowledged.

“But wouldn’t… Like, wouldn’t our– our friendship…?”

“You’re my favorite person in the whole wide world,” you soothed him while caressing his face, “And I’d like to think I’m yours, too.”

That was the moment his colors started changing. Never in a million years did he think this moment would come true. You were looking at him, head tilted, lips parted, giving him permission to make a move.

Hell, you were fucking encouraging it.

“I’ve been told kissing is off limits,” he swiped his tongue on his lips, “Can I kiss other parts of your body?”

You tilted your head further and exposed your neck in response. Chris could see your heartbeat manifesting through the large vein. He leaned into you and traced it with his tongue, punctuating it with a soft kiss. You immediately started melting.

He, on the other hand, was still in utter disbelief.

Your body temperature was rising with each kiss, exuding more of your scent for him to inhale. You still smelled like the sandy beaches of his hometown. You removed each other’s shirts with unrushed movements, and you took one of your favorite sights in as he got rid of your shorts, laying you down on the couch.

A very topless Chris in his jeans. Now slithering between your legs.

Maybe it was the familiarity. Maybe it was his unintended training, or maybe he was just a natural. Three licks on your glistening folds, and you were already feeling your high fast approaching.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” you breathily moaned as he kept swirling his tongue around your clit, swollen enough to get sucked on.

Your fingers were in his curls, and the deeper he sank his tongue into you, the harder you were pulling at them. It would be a lie if you said you had never imagined those bulging arms wrapped around your thighs every time you were at the beach together. Chris was such a gorgeous man to witness. At work to please you. With endless enthusiasm.

“Fuck, Chris…”

“Louder.”

“Oh, god!”

“Louder.”

“You’re getting too much of a thrill out of this,” you bit into your smile with your eyes closed.

“Try finally having sex with the star of your wet dreams, so would you,” he spoke into your pussy, “I hope he fucking hears it for a change.”

“Damn, couldn’t even wait for me to go to sleep, huh?” 

Minho appeared by the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another. He slowly approached the couch and kneeled right next to you, your arm stretched towards him as if to say ‘Care to join?’

“Enjoying ourselves, baby?” he placed a kiss on your temple.

“Y-yes.”

“Tongue game?”

“Perfect.”

Content with the response he received, Minho looked at his friend between his girl’s legs, lazily gliding his tongue with eyes closed and overdosing on euphoria without a single care in the world. The second the two men established eye contact, Chris stopped.

“Kiss her.”

Minho had told him no kissing. He had to stay away from your lips, but he wasn’t exactly told which pair they were.

Which meant he could still kiss you.

The second Minho took your lips between his, Chris quickly drew a map in his head and started making out with your pussy in the exact same pattern. Your moans amplified in the room, albeit a bit muffled, and Chris felt himself getting even harder inside his jeans. 

Minho fondling your breasts and sucking on your nipples. Chris coating your folds through and through and slipping two fingers inside you. Overwhelming. Passion materialized. Hot as fuck.

You came so hard on Chris’ perfectly plush lips.

“On fours towards me, baby,” Minho didn’t even give a minute to you to recollect yourself and helped you up, “You need to return the favor. Let me watch my beautiful girl.”

Laying down on the couch into the print of your body, Minho unwrapped his towel and flashed his thighs and hardening cock for you to suck on. You arched your ass towards Chris for him to slide in, but one mere touch against your dripping entrance and he almost lost his entire mind.

“Fuck, too wet!”

“What is it, Bang?” Minho grinned while clasping his hands behind his nape, “Not gonna last?” 

He could legitimately finish just by sinking into you alone. Chris had imagined this for so long that he couldn’t calculate what an out-of-body experience the real thing would be. He took it extremely slow to prevent his untimely demise for he wasn’t ready for any of this to end yet.

“Let me give you a little secret,” Minho instructed while stroking your hair, “Spank her ass. She makes very hot sounds when her mouth is full.”

You felt the entire outline of his large hand on the soft flesh, and a loud albeit muffled grunt ripped from your throat. Minho’s eyes turned dark crimson when he saw you drooling all over his cock.

“Go harder. She can take it,” he grabbed a fistful of your hair and started guiding your head, “Fuck her into me.”

And that was the last straw.

Not even a permission. He had received a fucking command to blow your back out, and Chris would be the dumbest man alive if he passed on that. If he was going to cum, he was going to cum. This was the point of no return now.

His pace quickened, and his thrusts got much sharper. He was literally able to feel the slippery texture of your deep end on his tip while groping you everywhere he could. With his remaining ounce of sanity, he spat on his fingers for lubrication and started rubbing your clit fervently to provide you with some friction. When it felt too good too fast for you, you involuntarily clenched, and it was over for him.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!”

“Inside,” Minho firmly declared, shooting daggers at Chris, “No cumming on her body.”

Chris’ rhythm turned from frantic to erratic, and you felt something warm spilling inside you. Mere seconds later, your moans on Minho’s cock elicited a pretty violent orgasm from him. He immediately kissed your lips and showered you with praise as your breathing returned to normal. Chris collapsed on the couch behind you, utterly fucked out and trying to catch his breath. You watched him for a moment while smiling to yourself, then kissed his forehead goodnight and went to bed.

“Can’t fucking believe this actually happened,” he finally managed to utter, his eyes still draped with his arm.

“You should have asked sooner. She didn’t know how to bring it up to you.” 

Fifty different questions immediately rushed into Chris’ brain, but it happened so fast that he didn’t know which one to ask first. Before he could even ask one, Minho wrapped himself in his towel again and stood up.

“Now I’m gonna go fuck your cum deeper into her, and you’re gonna fucking hear it. ”

Chris burst out laughing like an absolute idiot, wondering if he was going to remember any of this in the morning, or if it was at all real. When he least expected it, Minho’s voice echoed from the end of the hall.

“You’re not coming?”

He looked at his friend with utter shock in his eyes, removing whatever amount of drunkenness still coursing through his blood. He didn’t hear things; Minho actually uttered those words.

“I have fucking backstage pass now?!”

“Feel free. No pressure,” the grin on Minho’s face suddenly got wider, “but I’ll let you kiss her if you join us.”

「© 2021-2024, R. C. Skye · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? Share your thoughts with me via an ask! It would also be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

[vsmvz]

slow mode — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, cockwarming, a lil masturbation, stressed reader, use of “bunny”, “baby,”, minho being ambidextrous in a hot way. this was supposed to be dirty but it’s mushy as fuck and not even that sexy. if you let an ace write smut don’t be surprised when that happens.

inspo: minho’s bubble messages and recent academic overwhelm

notes: can this be classed as my valentine’s day fic? here it is anyway. the title is a reference to sunshine which is my go to destress song. to anyone who relates to reader’s situation, may all your stresses be lighter from today my lovies 🩵

{ wc: 2003 }

you arrived home after another long day, one of many—maybe too many—and as soon as you put your things down and got rid of your shoes you walked over to the sofa, pouting at your boyfriend.

“oh, come here,” he said, putting his laptop away and opening his arms wide.

you crashed down on the soft sofa, head rolling onto minho’s thick thighs.

“how was it?” he asked, sympathetically. you rolled out of bed early, so early even minho wasn’t awake yet, and the sun had set hours before you’ve arrived back home.

he knew how hard things have been lately.

between all your work and deadlines and commitments, minho could see the stress was getting to you. minho could always tell.

“so many things to do,” you mumbled into his lap.

“i know. here,” he said, grabbing your arms and moving you to where he wanted you to be. he manoeuvred your thighs, placing them on either side of his lap and tucked your head into his warm chest. you sighed.

“bunny,” he cooed, his hand sinking into your hair. he slowly scratched at your scalp and quickly a warmth settled into your bones. you leaned further into it, further into him, and nuzzled your head against his chest.

minho wanted to ask you what else you had to do, what he could do to help, but the way your body fell pliant against his made him think maybe now all you needed was his fingers in your hair and his arm secured safely around your waist. he was right.

the soft glide of his blunt nails against the root of your hair, and the warmth radiating from his body—all of it enough to slowly melt away your stress. it was there, you knew the deadlines were coming, but for now all you could feel was the floaty feeling from minho playing with your hair and knowing you were there, in his arms, where it was safe.

maybe you accidentally deleted a three page essay you needed to hand in the next day or maybe your boss had a go at you or maybe your phone stopped working in the middle of your presentation and your notes were gone. but all of that didn’t matter now that it was over, now that you forgotten it completely, and now that your present was filled with lee minho.

“min?” you asked softly, after however many minutes passed.

he hummed underneath you, the vibrations soft against your cheek.

“why are you hard?”

minho chuckled awkwardly, slightly shifting underneath you.

“i was reading something before you got here,” he mumbled into your hair before planting a soft kiss on the locks.

“oh?” you lift your head up, eyes peering up at him. “what was it?”

“best positions to surprise your partner with this valentine’s day,” he recites the article headline. his ears change into a soft pink—it’s one of your favourite colours.

you giggle softly, straighting up to be eye levelled with him.

“and what did you find?”

“it wasn’t anything new,” he says, hand softly rubbing up and down your back, “but i was thinking of you doing them and…” he spares a small glance at his crotch.

at that you laugh loudly before tucking your head into his neck.

you breathe in softly, slowly, following the rise and fall of minho’s chest while his warm scent takes over you. you kiss his neck with a small peck.

“maybe i can help you?”

“bunny,” he rubs against your scalp, “you should be resting after a long day. another long day.”

“but min, i—“

“—did you even eat today?”

“of course! i ate the lunch you prepared yesterday and a few of us grabbed some food before the meeting. don’t worry,”

“good job,” he nods, resuming his soft scratching. you lean into it instantly. “i don’t want you straining your body too much. it needs rest.”

“i am resting,” you mumbled stubbornly. “it’s just i also want you inside me.”

the last part was quiet, defeated almost, and minho smiled against your forehead before peppering a few small kisses on your skin.

his other hand left your back and you felt him fiddling around near your thighs, before he softly told you to lean up. you silently followed his orders, looking down to find he pushed his sweats and boxers down to his knees.

you slowly sat back down on his bare thighs—but didn’t reach out to him. perhaps he was right, you were too tired to even move forward.

minho kept your head pressed into his neck, his ability to control both his hand and his dancer coordination proved exceptionally useful. he kept scratching your head, moving up and down and occasionally pressing softly into the back of your neck where most of your stress lived.

with his other hand, he stroked himself. once you realised what he was doing, you started leaving a few open mouthed kisses on his skin, kissing his pulse point and beneath his jaw.

“you need to prep too, bunny,” he said softly, voice breathy as it vibrated against your lips. “if you still want to.”

“i want,” you said quickly, tucking your hand into your pants and rubbing slowly. you were surprised to find just how wet you were, but then again, minho was right next to you stroking himself.

you needed him inside you.

you knew the prep you gave yourself probably wasn’t enough, but you needed him—you needed his warmth and his closeness and so you quickly lifted yourself up and rid yourself of your pants and underwear.

minho didn’t waste any more time, lining himself up to your entrance and guiding you down with a hand on your hip.

the pair of you sighed softly and you slowly and carefully sunk all the way down.

the stretch was more prominent than usual, but it was nice. so nice, and you let your eyes softly close at the fullness of having him inside you.

“there, baby,” he smiled at you, running his hands up and down your arms. he squeezed them softly before moving his hands to your back, rubbing up and down.

you didn’t realise how sore your whole body felt from the stress of everything the past few days had brought you, and you instantly relaxed.

“you’ve been working hard,” he said softly, nodding slightly as you lean your head back onto his chest. “you’ve done well, baby. so well.”

you melt at the praise, body weight pressed entirely into minho’s strong body as your mind slowly starts clearing up.

you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself even closer to minho as his arms both wrap around your back.

normally, you would be begging minho to start moving, to fuck you fast like he does when you’re stressed and need to forget the world around you. sometimes, he goes slow, when you need to be reminded of just how important you are to him. but now, he isn’t moving at all. and now, you think that’s exactly what you need. minho always knows.

you close your eyes, listening to the steady and reliable thumping of minho’s heart.

all other thoughts fade away. it’s nothing but minho, his smell and his warmth and his arms solid and strong around you. just minho.

———

your eyes are heavy, you must’ve fallen asleep as your brain feels empty and vague about the last few minutes. you slowly move your head to peer up at your boyfriend—a comforting smile on his face.

“did i fall asleep?” you grumble. you can still feel the fullness inside you, the pleasing pressure on your stomach so you know neither one of you has moved. you try slightly stretching out your thighs that have fallen asleep too, a soft tingling running through your feet at the numbness from the prolonged position.

you don’t move too much, but your pussy does instinctively squeeze around minho, and he lets out a delighted sigh as he leans his head back. still, he doesn’t move.

he runs his hands up and down your thighs, his smile still firmly in place as he looks up at you. he softly kneads your muscles, still working on helping you relax. your eyes lock together and the brown in front of you is swimming with adoration and a hint of pride you don’t know if you can even accept.

you feel yourself blush at the thought, know minho would scold you if you voiced it, and decide you’ll have to work harder on accepting the praise he gives you.

sometimes you think minho is the only person you’d ever let yourself be loved by.

most times you think that isn’t such a bad idea.

he licks his lips, swallowing in the way he does before he readies himself to say something important.

you tell yourself to accept his love, to let yourself be loved by him.

“you didn’t get me chocolate,” is what he says, “give me chocolate.”

you blink at him for a second, a habit you picked up from spending too much time around minho, trying to process what he’s even talking about.

it clicks a moment later.

“you never even asked me to be your valentine’s, so why should i?” you smirk at him.

he’s appalled by such an answer, eyes wide and mouth gaped enough for his bunny teeth to peek out slightly. you think you’d never love anyone as much as you love lee minho.

“you’re mine,” he says, simple. “why would i need to ask when you’re very clearly mine.”

you can’t help the way your body reacts when minho talks that way, and your pussy clenches tightly at his words.

minho doesn’t tease you, as you’d expect him to, but instead his eyes turn serious.

he runs his hands up to your hips, pushing you forward as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

“min,” your voice comes out high pitched and airy.

“i’m here,” he nods, “i’ll take care of you, okay?”

you nod.

he leans forward, kissing you firmly before bringing a hand back into your hair—softly scratching.

“my bunny,” he says, and it sounds like a promise. “and always my valentine’s. always mine.”

“always yours, min,” you echo firmly, and it sounds like acceptance.

minho brings a hand between your bodies, softly rubbing slow circles against your clit.

“and when things get stressful i’m here,” he reminds you, “and whatever it is you need.”

“m-me too, min, i’ll give you anything,” you moan softly.

“not chocolate, evidently,” he grins at you, his evil smirk out on full display.

you try and protest at his unfair accusation—you literally texted him earlier to ask if he wanted chocolate and he said no due to his personal trainer’s demands—but minho stops you with a fleeting kiss on your lips.

“i don’t need it anyway,” he decides, “you’re better than chocolate.”

at that minho grabs that back of your head and pulls your forward, kissing you urgently as his tongue softly moves against yours. he swallows down your moans as his hand moves faster against you, building and building and building.

you let the feeling take over you as you’re consumed by it, by minho and his familiar taste. the stubble on his chin and the softness of his lips and the way his soft hair feels between your fingers.

you let yourself forget everything else. the dates circled on your calendar and your unanswered emails and your appointments.

it doesn’t matter much when minho starts giggling into your mouth because you’ve knocked your teeth against his.

it doesn’t matter much when minho is all around you, inside you, kissing you. telling you, “mine, baby, mine,” as he starts lazily thrusting into you.

your thoughts, your anxieties, your responsibilities. for a moment they can all fade away—for just now. for as long as you and minho are together, connected.

for now, it doesn’t matter much. all you can think about is minho. just minho.

#he’s perfect 😭😭😭

[vsmvz]

a/n: just minho eating your pussy like it's a five star meal. this is @gimmeurtmi's fault mixed with @lino-nyangi and i'm pretty sure @tasteleeknow was involved too

the first time he goes down on you, you’re so caught off guard that you giggle. 

it’s not that he’s bad at it - it’s actually quite the opposite. he’s skilled with his tongue, his fingers acting as supporting cast members as he dips into you. his nose nudges your clit just right to provide that slight amount of extra stimulation, and it’s kind of perfect. 

it’s not the way he’s wearing his work clothes still, too distracted by the way you were laying on your bed with nothing on but an oversized t shirt. he did little more than loosen his tie before diving into bed between your legs, holding your thighs apart with his strong hands while he looked at you with reverence. 

it’s not even the way he looks kind of silly with your juices coating his mouth and down his chin, slightly obscene in the way he doesn’t even make a move to wipe it off. 

no. it’s the way he makes a little mmph! noise at the first taste, eyes lightening up and widening like they do when he digs into his pudding or something wonderfully spicy. his nose twitches as he stares at your pussy for a second, blinking in the way that he does, before he dives back in. 

it’s just so cute. even with his face buried in you, the giggle escapes your lips, turning into a breathless whine when he stops and pulls back to stare at you in confusion. you shake your head, reaching one hand to thread through his hair and push it back towards you. he arches a brow at you but let’s you put him back into his place, collapsing back down into the pillows when he resumes his meal just as enthusiastically as before. 

you feel your high approaching faster than you want to admit, his skill mixed with the fact that he so obviously loves to be between your legs making the coils in your lower belly twist and threaten to snap. he eats you through your high, making little noises of happiness as you shake apart on him. your legs close a bit and he moans where he’s trapped against you. he’s rutting against the bed, even as your muscles give out and you all but melt into the mattress. 

he’s kneeling over you and unbuckling his belt before you can blink, still breathing hard and twitching a bit from your orgasm. he pulls his cock out of his pants, and the vision of him jerking off in front of you in his suit almost makes you come again. he throws his head back as he fists his cock, your essence still glistening on his face, making him look like some kind of god (a thought you file away for later). 

you can see the way his body tightens when he comes, stripes of him coating your pussy in warm strokes. his breaths are ragged even as he collapses onto the bed in front of you, his head resting on your thigh as he calms down. his curious eyes are locked onto your core, the way his release is covering you in a work of pure art. 

he shuffles closer, licking tentatively at you and making you jolt from how sensitive you are. his face goes sour, a deep frown taking over his features as he tastes himself on his tongue. it’s the complete opposite to how he reacted to you, and you can’t help but laugh again, so hopelessly endeared by him. 

“why are you laughing at me,” he pouts, reaching for a cloth to wipe you clean. he uses the other side to clean his face, and discards his jacket before crawling up the bed so he can throw an arm around you. it’s a sign of how much he trusts you that he doesn’t feel insecure because of your giggles, he’s just curious. 

“you’re so cute,” you say, pinching his cheek between your thumb and your finger. “does my pussy taste that good baby? did you even hear the noises you were making for me?”

“you’re the single best thing i’ve ever tasted in my entire life,” he says, not missing a single beat, completely serious. he kisses your shoulder. “now me? i don’t know how you like that. we have to work on your taste preferences, something is wrong with you.”

#he’s so pookie #<3

[vsmvz]

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :(  You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

series taglist: @eyesforlino @armystay89 @nuronhe @becomingmina @astro-doll-the-star @hyuneyeon @jisunglyricist @yoontaethings @thisisnotjacinta @cupidcures @wyzminho

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.02.2024]

#;___; #he’s everything….

[vsmvz]

Yeah, I’m into fitness…fitness whole werewolf cock in my mouth

[vsmvz]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𓂃 ⊹ .˚

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: roommate!frenemy!chan x afab!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: with a roommate like Chan, everything in life is a challenge — especially studying for your finals. he’s an annoyance, a cacophony, a statue of arrogance who likes to lounge at home, nonchalantly undressed — half dressed, in the best case scenario. but he’s not impossible to reconcile with — for this once, out of pity, he agrees to a truce with you, though he has but one wish in return: a kiss, on the lips.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: raw smut, enemies to lovers subtones, a lot of bickering, the plot is they’re down bad for each other

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k, I’m sorry idk how to shut up

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: reposting this because tumblr decided to remove it from existence without my notice lmao, I hope it won't keep you from enjoying reading this nasty piece of mine tho :3 your reblogs and comments would be super meaningful because writing this took me some while, I'll be looking forward for your thoughts on this, love you🩷

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚ ༯

You’re clutching your book’s pages for dear life while shooting daggers at Chan — your unevolved roommate, who seems to believe parading around half-naked in your shared flat is totally acceptable.

As he guzzles down an entire bottle of water shirtless, you can’t help but to wish he’d choke, silently plotting his demise as you stare his way without blinking. 

Because you’ve warned him countless times—more than you can tally—to avoid any distractions during your crucial finals week, and at this rate, you’re starting to wonder if his brain shares the same evolutionary timeline as his caveman-esque habits.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” you finally snap, eyeing him as he crushes the said water bottle and casually flings it away, almost like he’s gunning to annoy you.

“Doing what?” he plays innocent, wiping the sweat from his forehead — just back from the gym and apparently, on a self-display spree.

“I mentioned my finals starting this week, remember? Can't have any distractions.”

“Sure, but how’s my water drinking a distraction?”

“You’re being too loud, that’s how,” you scoff, pointing at the crushed bottle in the trashcan, “so keep it down, and go put some clothes on for fuck’s sake.” 

Oh, so that’s what it was about, he thinks to himself, you’re not just frustrated because of the upcoming exams — you’re also . . . sexually frustrated. 

Poor thing, he ponders, you must be so desperate, maybe he should help you out. 

“Sorry Y/n, I’m afraid I can’t,” so he responds, placing his hands on both sides of his waist confidently — time to show them abs off, “you’re asking for too much, pick one.” 

“What?”

“Pick one,” he repeats, closing in on your seat, clearly aiming to up the ante of your flustered state — what can he say, he just loves how the color red looks on you.

“Because either I’m gonna keep my volume down, or throw on a shirt, not both,” he adds with a smug grin on his face, “it’s your call, make it wisely." 

Make it wisely?

What?

Is he implying something?

Wait, does he think it's about him strutting around shirtless by any chance? 

Is he that naive — enough to believe that his abs have any impact on you?

Hilarious, for real, you almost feel sorry for him.

“You can’t ask me to pick one, it's not fair.”

“And why is that?”

“Because this is my house as much as it’s yours, and I have every right to demand a distraction-free zone for studying, that’s why.” 

Fair point, but he’s got an ace up his sleeve.

“True, but it doesn’t mean you get to dictate my wardrobe.”

Oh my god, does he really wanna go there? 

“Your wardrobe?” you huff, eyeing him up and down with disdain, making a mental note to contemplate his remarkably defined abs later, “It’s common sense to not walk around naked in front of other people, I’m not dictating shit!” 

“I’m not naked, I’m wearing shorts,” he objects, emphasizing on the last word as he points down to his legs — ugh, why are his thighs so ripped, “but fine, I’ll put on a shirt if it bothers you so much.”

Oh?

Did Chan just . . . admit defeat?

Wow, maybe you were wrong all along — maybe he wasn’t so unevolved.  

“It does,” you reply, surprised in a way that’s impossible to miss, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye — this can't be good, “but here’s the catch,” he adds, straightening up, hinting at something intriguing, “You’ll give me a kiss in return, just one.”

Pardon?

Did you hear that correctly?

Or is this some kind of an auditory illusion?

“I’m sorry, what?” you ask incredulously, rising to meet him face to face, “Could you say that again? I think I misunderstood.”

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he replies, stepping closer, narrowing the space between you, “You want your distraction-free zone? Here’s your shot.”

Is he actually serious?

What’s his issue?

Why on earth would he want a kiss? Aren’t you two at odds most of the time?

Is this one of his bizarre kinks or something? 

Seriously, what’s his endgame here?

“You must be out of your mind if you think I’d even consider doing that.” you snarl with a visible disgust on your face, squinting your eyes — almost as if you were daring him to make you. 

And it works, he accepts your challenge, doubles it, then returns it back to you. 

“Fine by me,” he shrugs off, completely unbothered, “I don’t want a shirt weighing on me anyways, It’s already hot in here.”

“We’re literally in January, Chan, it’s freezing outside.” 

Keyword: Outside. 

Does he look homeless to you?

“Good thing that I plan to stay in today then,” he quips, an annoying grin playing on his face, “and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that—”

“Okay, I get it!” you interject, cutting through his list, your patience wearing thin, “I’ll do it,” you mutter, voice barely audible from your embarrassment, “I’ll kiss you, just let me study in peace, please.” 

Please, huh? 

That’s new, he likes it — he likes it a lot.  

“Deal, I’ll be no different than a ghost.” he claims, sounding not even close to reassuring. 

But well, the damage is done, and although you hate to submit, you’ve got no choice but to be obedient to his words — for your exams, no other reason. 

You take a deep breath and slowly raise on your toes, here I go, you think to yourself as you gulp down your pride, and lean in to give him a peck . . . on the cheeks.  

And he can’t even begin to tell you just how disappointing that feels. 

“What was that?” he asks, scowling,

“A kiss,” you retort, confused, “like you asked?” 

Like he asked?

Are you joking?

If you really think that’s what he meant when he said he wanted a kiss, then he doesn’t know whether to pity you or to be pissed at you, or both, in that matter. 

“Do I look nine years old to you, Y/n?” he grumbles irritably,

“Intellectually? ... yeah.” you shoot back, struggling to stifle a laugh, your lip caught between your teeth.

Funny, hah, you think he’s joking around with you? 

Do you really think he’s gonna let you get away so easily, is that why you're all sassy, throwing clever jibes about his smarts?

Maybe I wasn’t clear enough with her, he assumes, as he strides towards you with sure steps, and doesn’t stop until he’s got you pinned between himself and the counter. 

He's just curious to see how your snark holds up when you're cornered and have no place to escape, to test if your confidence is just a front or not. 

But oh boy, won’t you look at that — you're quieter than a library mouse now. 

Eyes down, not a peep — such a surprising turn of events.

“Cat got your tongue?” he jabs, his warm breath tickling your flushed cheeks, “you were in the middle of roasting my intelligence, don’t stop now, go on.” 

“I don’t want to,” you retaliate, still avoiding his gaze, “I already gave you what you wanted, your stupid kiss, now let me go.” 

His stupid kiss? 

You call that a kiss? 

Gosh, you’re hilarious. 

“Cut the crap Y/n,” he grumbles, leaning on the counter, looming over you “you know damn well what I meant by a kiss, so stop fucking around—”

Okay, you will, you’ve had enough of sparring with him anyway.

Thus, before he can finish, you lean forward, seizing his lips in a rough kiss — grabbing his cheeks, drawing him nearer, making sure your noses don't collide as you tilt his head.

But surprise, surprise: Chan responds to your kiss right away, like he's been waiting forever. In a flash, his arms circle around you, hoisting you onto the counter and slotting himself between your legs.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, or why he’s doing it — but he can’t stop himself, he just really wants to kiss you, he wants to kiss you so bad. 

It's like a switch flipped inside him the moment your lips met — his brain goes on vacation, all he hears is white noise.

And maybe that’s how it should’ve been all along — calm and quiet, no bickering, peaceful. 

He feels breathless as you deepen the kiss, your hands coming to wrap around his neck, nails scratching his nape, making him moan against your mouth — giving you the perfect chance to sneak your tongue in.

It’s quite surprising to you, how eagerly he welcomes you in — no resistance, he just surrenders, and lets you have your way with him. 

And every time your tongue collides on his, it poisons him a little more — making him drunk in your touch, yearning for so much more in desperation, consuming all his patience and leaving nothing behind for him to hold on.

His hands roam around your body hungrily — sliding down from your hair to your neck, wrapping around your throat briefly, gaining a sweet whimper from your lips before moving onto their next stop — your chest.

As he cups your boobs over your shirt, you tilt your head back, giving him space to suck on your skin to mark you as his for good.

And of course, he doesn’t bail on such a rare opportunity — he leans in, and ignites each spot he marks with fiery passion, leaving behind purple bruises of lust.

But that’s not where his exploration ends, he’s got so much of you to discover — so much of you to make his own. Though before he continues with his quest to conquer you, he stops, wanting to ask you a question which he already holds the answer to,

“Gosh Y/n, you drive me fucking insane, you know that?”

You smirk, sure you do, he’s literally bulging in between your legs. 

So “Mhm,” you hum, stealing a peck from his lips — yes, you can’t get enough of him, “I do, because you’re terrible at hiding it.” you say, reaching for the said bulge of his pants. 

Once your fingertips brushes past his hardened shaft over his clothes, he groans, taking it as his sign to get rid of his clothes completely. 

What a good boy, am I right?

He gets you right away, so smart and so muscular — literally your dream guy, minus his unbearable personality, but that’s a topic for sometime else. 

“Oh, that?” he chuckles as he pushes his shorts all the way down to his knees — along with his underwear, god you love him, “I wasn’t trying to hide it, babe.” 

Babe?

Butterflies, stupid butterflies in your stomach. 

“G-good,” you stutter, noticeably flustered as you lean on your back, eyes locked on his veiny hands as he slowly strokes his length, “b-because I want it, deep inside me.”  

Such a bold statement coming from a girl who trips over words, he thinks to himself, in the whirlwind of watching you struggle to kick your pajamas away — you just have to act cute all the time, don’t you? 

Because you know that’s his type. 

“Yeah? Would this be deep enough for you then?” he asks, laying his cock on your stomach, shamelessly teasing you, “I’ll be just above your belly button, are you sure you can take it?”

Oh.

You see.

 He wants war. 

So be it then, you ponder, tugging your panties aside, “less talk, more work, big boy,” you respond, guiding his tip to your entrance, “don’t waste my time talking nonsense, I’ve got exams to study for, remember?” 

Yes, he does. 

You and your stupid exams that you never shut up about — he gets it, he’s never gonna be anywhere near as important. 

You’re not exactly giving him any chances to forget that, nerd. 

Which is infuriating, but it’s fine, he’s way too horny and too damn into you to care. 

That’s why ignoring your words, he slips his cock through your folds, slowly burying himself within your warmth. 

A sigh of relief leaves both of your lips as he fills you in beyond your dreams, stretching your walls just right, gaining a hearty whine from you.

To be completely honest, you’re a little tighter than he expected —yes, he fantasized about you, so many times— and definitely a lot wetter, wrapping around him just perfectly.

He can feel you pulsating, throbbing as you try to adjust to his size, which is adorable and it drives him crazy, although he’s giving his best to contain himself. 

Ugh, just why are you so fucking cute? 

You know that turns him on. 

How is he supposed to keep himself from railing you now, when he’s already all the way inside you? 

He lifts your hips, and presses on your tummy — yep, he’s definitely in your womb, bulging you out so good. 

“You feel this babe?” he then asks, reaching to hold your hand, “I’m so deep inside you, so. fucking. deep.” he says proudly, pressing your palm right over your belly button, where the tip of his dick rests. 

“I do,” you moan in return, eyes rolling to the back of your head — gosh, you look so pretty doing that, “and I wanna feel you more,” you add, almost begging, “please, just fuck me already.” 

. . . 

Please . . . 

Just fuck me already . . . 

It echoes in his head. 

He can’t believe it’s finally happening, he can’t believe you’re asking him to—

“Chan! Please. Move. Do something. I need you!”

—fuck you, god, can you let him have his moment? 

It’s not like he gets to hear you beg for his cock every day, geez, he was just touched, okay? 

He’s totally gonna take care of you, just give him a second to process … uhm, everything, yeah? 

Wanting to engrave this moment in his brain, he looks down at where your hips meet, and that’s when he notices your cute panties with hello kitty patterns on it — adorable, he thinks, unable to stop a goofy smile from spreading his whole face, are you trying to make him fall in love with you by any chance?

Because if so, you’re about to succeed. 

Curious about whether or not you’re wearing a matching bra, he tugs on your shirt and lifts it up to your chin — and voila, you indeed are, plus the fabric is so thin that it’s almost see through, which is not what he anticipated, though it turns him on. 

Alright, enough processing, he’s ready to roll.

Seizing your hips, Chan leads you to the edge of the counter. His hands seamlessly sweep under your legs, elevating them to rest upon his shoulders.

Then, he reaches for your thighs — his favorite part of your body. 

Marveling at their softness and beauty, he can’t keep himself from lightly tapping them, which causes you to wince. Chuckling, “Sorry princess,” he mutters, caressing where he just hit, “didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, placing your hands on his, “I like it, so I don’t mind.” 

God. 

Please just marry him at this point. 

“You do?” he inquires, now giving a playful smack to your inner thighs, presuming you might be more sensitive there — and he’s right, you are. 

“Yeah,” you hiss, biting your lips, “I do, so much.” 

Well, there goes his sanity then, I guess. 

“You make it impossible for me to stay soft with you,” he states, pulling himself all the way out before slamming back in, “you realize that, right angel?” 

Angel . . . angel, huh?

He does this on purpose at this point, you think to yourself, stupid Chan. 

And stupid nicknames, gosh.

With the power of his thrust, you bounce on the cold marble, back arching in pleasure as you hold onto the sides for support.

Ugh, you love how it feels so much.

“I don’t want you soft,” you respond, breathlessly moaning, “be rough with me, fuck me hard.” 

Oh.

Kinky.

He digs that. 

Say no more.

“As you wish, gorgeous.” he whispers against your skin as he peppers your calves with open mouthed kisses, giving your skin an a class princess treatment before starting his ruthless pace. 

Thanks to his huge biceps, he easily hugs your legs and presses them upon his chest, lifting your hips to meet with his in the air as if your weight feels like a feather to him. 

His other hand rakes over your chest and sneakily tugs down your bra, wanting to provide his pervy eyes a visual feast with your astonishingly beautiful tits. 

As he palms them — roughly, just like you asked, a weak cry leaves your lips, you can’t believe that you’re admitting this but Chan fucks so good. 

Your legs are trembling, your pussy is throbbing, you’re gushing sweat and yet you’re on the clouds — face beaming with pure ecstasy under his gaze, glowy eyes smiling at him cutely. 

He doesn’t know how, but you manage to make both his heart and his cock weak for you — causing him to twitch within your warmth, heart palpitating, a strong thump against his chest. 

“You’re so pretty,” he confesses drunkenly in the magic of the moment, feet swept off the floor with how good you make him feel. There’s no point in denying anymore, he tells himself, he’s so head over heels for you. 

“Then kiss me,” you reply, nibbling on your lower lip.

And oh, how the tables have turned. 

From refusing to kiss him, to asking for him to kiss you — even the history is shocked, raising its eyebrow at this epic flip-flop.  

Chan chuckles at the irony of your words as he frees your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. Leaning in, he hovers over you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, 

“I thought you didn’t want that.” he says, sarcastic, his lips on the cusp of intertwining with yours. 

“I was lying,” you retort, smug, “you’re a moron if you still don’t realize that.” 

Gosh, you’re such a smartass, how is he attracted to you?

Honestly it doesn’t matter, because as he inches in, closing the gap between your faces, he notices one thing — no one makes him feel this way, not a soul, besides yours.

So he kisses you with passion, with desire — reaching out for your hands to hold them in his, fingers lacing on the cold surface above your head, perfection.

 And there — butterflies.

Stupid butterflies again.

This time in both of your stomachs, winging you closer to your highs. 

With every passing second, they double in numbers — introducing your bodies to a new level of euphoria, sending cold chills down your spines, it’s poetic. 

A little overwhelming too, for sure, but poetic. 

Your whole body shakes, it’s definitely too much for you to take, tears stain your cheeks — that’s it, you need your release. 

“Chan—” so you call his name, in a short breath that he steals from your lips, “I think I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he whispers, not needing to hear the rest of your sentence — he already knows, “cum for me babe, do it for me.” 

And it hits you then, you’re gonna cum for him — for Chan, yet you’re not even disgusted one bit. 

Instead you’re pleased, you’re happy — because in a weird way, you feel safe, yes you also can’t believe it, but Chan makes you feel safe. 

You’re crushed under his buff body, the rough surface he chose to lay you on causing you a sore back, you’re panting for air and literally dripping sweat down from your ass but you don’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest — you’re holding his hands, you’re kissing his lips, you’re looking at his eyes and simply, you’re alright. 

You’re no more swirling in finals-induced panic — your headache vanished, and stress took a hike.

Overflowing with gratitude, you flash him a smile, before leaning in for another one of those endearingly messy kisses as you unleash your orgasm all over your counter and uhm, his cock. 

You’re so sloppy that he can’t stop himself from cackling as he kisses you back, cute, he thinks, you’re so cute from head to toe, he wants to ruin you. 

And your hello kitty set, he wants to ruin that too. 

God, he just hopes that this isn’t the only pair you own, but if it is, he’s willing to step up and buy you more — money’s no object, even if it costs him a fortune.

Just let him fuck you in them once in a while, that’s all he’ll ever ask, then you can consider your debt paid. 

As Chan gets lost in his own Hello Kitty fantasy, he forgets about his in real life status momentarily — dick buried balls deep inside of you, itching to cum and definitely overstimulated from how long he’s been holding back. 

Luckily, he manages to pull out before accidentally breeding you — not that he thinks it’s a bad idea, in fact it’s a great one. 

Cursing out a husky “fuck”, he spills his load all over your tummy, proudly watching as he paints your glowy skin pearl white — the color he hopes to see more on you starting from today, if you know what I mean. 

And as Chan jerks the rest of his cum out on your stomach, stroking his sensitive, veiny head, you stare at him in adoration, wondering if he recently got hotter or if he was always this way, but you were just too blind to notice. 

The answer is neither — because yes, he was always hot, but you weren’t blind, you were just stubborn. 

Something which you no longer plan to be. 

Thus, reaching your hand down, you pick some of his cum and bring it to your mouth. Then, you swirl your tongue around your cum-coated fingers before sucking them off, making him hiss at the sight as he spurts the remaining part of his arousal onto your thighs.   

“This was perfect,” you comment, swallowing everything that you just licked off, “I’m surprised, in a good way, for once.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree with you,” he responds, as he helps you off the counter, “this was amazing, and you look great in this set, you should definitely wear it more.” 

“In this set?” you check yourself in disbelief, “Didn’t know you were a hello kitty fan, Bang.” 

“I am as long as you’re wearing it on your ass, L/n,” he quips, palming your right cheek playfully, “and on your tits, god, I love your tits.” 

“Yeah?” you chortle, circling your arms around his neck, “Wanna hold them as I show you my collection?”

“Collection?”

“My hello kitty underwear collection, thought you might wanna see?”

Oh My God, he thinks to himself, please let her be serious, pleasepleasepleaseplease.

“Please tell me you’re not messing with me right now, Y/n,” he asserts, suddenly serious, “cuz’ if you are, then it’s so not funny—”

“I’m not—” you cut his words, shushing him with your index on his plump lips, “but there’s a catch.”

“A catch?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I don’t want you strolling half naked in the house anymore, without my permission.” 

Wait, that’s the catch?

But he thought you liked him half naked, I mean, you were literally frustrated about him being shirtless like minutes ago — in fact, you just fucked for that exact reason, no?

He’s so confused. 

“But I thought you secretly liked it?” he asks, and you can’t ignore the worry in his tone, “I mean, we just had sex because of my naked abs. . . is that not good?” 

“It is, and I love your abs,” you confirm, gently caressing his firm packs, “but distraction is distraction, you make it impossible for me to focus around you.” 

Oh.

Well.

If that’s the case . . . he’s fluttered. 

“Plus, as I said, it’s common sense,” you add, “we’re not in the stone age, and you’re not a caveman—” 

Alright.

He heard you the first time.

You don’t have to try and prove your point.

And butcher his biggest personality trait while doing that. 

“Okay, I understand—” he interrupts you, wanting to save himself from more embarrassment, “and I’m in, as long as you promise that this isn’t the last time we see each other naked.” 

The last time you see each other naked?

Pffft, is that what he’s nervous about?

He’s adorable, but please, this is barely even a warm up for you.  “Oh sure,” so you say, “I promise . . this is only our beginning.”

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🩷