Hello loves, here is the first chapter, if you have questions about the universe you can ask, the story will be focused on Anne and Chan, so the story doesn't get boring, I hope you like it
Warnigs : none , YouxAnne , Chan x Anne
Voting link
The South Korean group Stray Kids, is promoting a reality show where 8 fans will be raffled, and will spend months living with the idols, they will have to balance their academic and personal lives with the harsh reality of an artist. The selections started this month. They have to demonstrate aptitude for singing and dancing, it is open to all ages and genders. At the end of the reality show, that there will be eliminations, those who remain will have the opportunity to debut in a temporary group, the possibility of it being effective is still studied, depending on public success. In addition to the opportunities to leave full of sponsorships"
Everyone was in commotion with the promotion of the reality show, it was the golden chance of anyone who had the dream of becoming an idol, even if temporarily. The registration periods were fierce, the members eagerly participated in the selections. The eight chosen would be simply his pupils.
Each member would have someone to teach everything they knew about the art world, they were strictly focused, because if there was an elimination, they would have to pass on all their knowledge to the next person who entered.
In the registration it was clear that you could only register once, and only to be a pupil of one of the members, being your bias which you found most similar to your will to learn. Bangchan Not even another member came other thand him. But you would be one in a million. Honestly, you didn't think you would be selected. Your video was sung, simple. She was a young woman like any other. You went to college and an internship, but you loved art and everything that involved it, being an idol had been forgotten along the way, you weren't a native of Korea, you didn't have family support, and you't even the age for that anymore. What made you sigh and accept was the ballet classes once a week.
"I... passed?" Your dry mouth. There was the email, there was the proof, but it seemed like a lie. After a month of waiting for the result.
You would move.
You would meet Chan.
You would live with him.
It looked like a dream. JYP took responsibility to enter and afford everything, its face-to-face college became ead. Your company released your trip out of the country, and allowed you to continue working from home. All your documentation was approved and organized, and within a month, you were embarking for Korea. Damn, if you knew, you would have studied more Korean.
No one knew who had been selected, the world was going to find out with the exit of the first episode. You were instructed to record before the flight and after, like a vlog, to send the company. Masks and bones all the time. Staffs were sent to the parents to safely pick up each pupil. "Hello... I don't really know how you do this or where to look." his voice comes out muffled by the mask. "But I'm at the airport to board for Korea. I'm extremely anxious... hm, is the food really good? I'm boring to eat..." you said casually, and laughed, even if the mask only showed your eyes. "The staffs separated some questions, for all of you to get to know us better." The staff next to you gives you cards with questions. "What's your biggest fear? Hmm... never fulfill my dreams." You answer simply with the card in hand, and soon you get another "do you think the boys are really noisy? Yes, I think so." You laugh "but I come from a noisy family, I'm used to it, I usually isolate myself if I'm tired, but I don't think I'll be able to do that anymore." You move on to the next one. "Will you and your teacher get alone? Yes, Chan and I have a lot in common.. e- wow, could I say his name?" You ask scared but get relieved when the staff agrees laughing. "Oh, well, we're a little different, aesthetically speaking." You answer simple. "If you were a mystical being, what would you be? Anh.. I hope I'm not thinking much of myself, but a mermaid, or mermaid." The murmurs of the staffs saying that it matched echo. "I want to test a concept with this aesthetic, please support me." You say while looking at the camera.
...
"It's my first time on a plane, I'm very scared." his voice comes out trembling, and you feel a staff holding your hand. "Oh, thank you." You say and record the hands together.
...
"Oh, have we arrived? You asked, feeling the voice choke after arriving at the airport, everyone was in the back of the airport, to avoid riots, some pupils had already arrived, and this time, there were cameras to receive you, the reality had begun. "Hello, it's a pleasure." You say waving and bowing slightly, feeling your eyes burn, it was a whirlwind of emotions, so much time dreaming, thinking, imagining, it was always tangible even though it was imaginary, but now it was real. And that was scary.
"Are you crying? Not yet" one of the staffs says and everyone starts laughing including you, while shaking his eyes, unable to contain, and crying freely.
Soon you go to the van, and to the house, the cameras were turned off after you entered the house, but inside it, everything was active. You looked for your room, a little quieter, there was your name on the door. The house was big, big. Far from the city, you believed that it would have annexes for dance and music studios inside, it was possible to see a soccer field and a swimming pool. From what you understood it would be 16 people outside the staffs, so I really needed all this space, they gave a room for each was already very respectful. They believed that each one would have a different routine, this required privacy.
"Wow! It's bigger than my room!" His surprise is clear and the cameras caught every reaction.
"You have a few hours to rest, two in the afternoon we go to jyp to sign the documents, you need to be ready at half past one, in the meantime you can sleep to rest the flight or pack your things." The staff says attentive and you nod.
When you're alone, you sigh, and sit on the bed, look at your bags, and sigh again. It was your chance, it was your chance.
Suddenly, you had a power spike, put on headphones and discovered that the built-in closet was a secret closet, which earned you a very feminine scream. Soon your clothes and shoes had a place, and you brought some things to decorate your room, set up the desk for your studies and work, lined new sheets, and suddenly the room had life. But after two hours in that, a shower was necessary, pajamas and after setting an alarm, you turned over in less than ten minutes.
"Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Zuri, I'm Seungmin's pupil!"
"My name is Chrissy, I'm Han's pupil."
"I'm Mihae, Hyunjin's pupil."
"I'm Ariel, my mentor is Felix"
"Let's be friends, my mentor is Changbin, my name is Irina."
"I'm Heidi, Minho's apprentice."
"I'm Rika, Jeongin's apprentice"
"Did anyone see Chan's pupil?"
"I heard that she was the last to arrive, we were all sleeping."
You heard voices from the corridor, you were tidy, nervous, were you too tidy? Or less? I would only know by going. You wore a beautiful, adorned coat, and a black skirt in a considerable size, showing casualness, like a drama protagonist, you wanted to show that you had versatility and knew how to dress on every occasion, you were going in one of the big three hours to sign a contract. I couldn't go in a sweatshirt. Then in a sigh, you headed to the room, surprised by the vision, each person there was from a different place in the world, from a different ethnicity.
"Oh, for sure this is chan's pupil" a black woman, extremely beautiful says "Nice, my name is Zuri, I'm Seungmin's pupil." She says smiling showing her extremely white teeth.
"It's a pleasure" his voice comes out shy "to meet all of you. My name is Anne."
"I'm Ariel. Felix's pupil" a smiling and Sardinian boy holds his hand, squeezing it firmly and joyfully.
"I couldn't think differently." You say and he smiles happily.
"Ah, my mentor is Hyunjin." Mirae says, a little shy and flushing right after saying the idol's name.
"What time are we going to the company?" Heidi, a blonde girl with ordinary beauty says, looking at other people, looking uncomfortable.
A part of them dressed casually, Zuri, just like you, wore a casual term.
"I didn't like her." Zuri says, low, and you look at her surprised, and she shrugs.
Soon they were all divided into vans, going to the JYP.
You, Zuri, Mirae and Ariel, talked to each other and the synchronization was extremely good. You knew you would get closer to them.
At JYP, everyone watched the foreign group walking around the company, you had received an identification badge, and soon you were in the meeting room with the project manager.
"Thank you for accepting. I'm sure you needed to change the routine, your parents to participate in this process." He says kindly. "At first of all, I will tell you the rules of coexistence and that can cause automatic eliminations." He brings a serious tone. "It's strictly forbidden, aggression, fight, swearing directed at someone else, xenophobia, racism and all these personal issues that I don't need to punctuate because I know they're all smart enough for that." He walks around the table "any and all intimate involvement with our idols, dating, or even relationships between you, will be a sabbatical time." Everyone nods, but you see a grimace of Heidi in the distance. "You will have eight months until the debut, each month will be focused on a primordial area in kpop, the last two months will be perfecting and producing something original for a presentation in the year-end special. The boys count on you." Everyone nods "We expect you to follow the instructions and advice of the members and when there are communications, you will be notified."
"How is the issue of cameras?" Chrissy asks, drawing everyone's attention.
"Great question." The instructor says. "You will not be recorded 24h, there are no cameras in the rooms, only in the areas of collective interaction, the living room, pool, studios, field. Your image will be preserved in any particular environment, unless you want to record for a vlog or something like that. However, not being recorded is not being seen, be careful. You will be notified when there will be recording, from the cameras or the team, on your cell phone, one day before. We don't want to see anyone dragging the sheet or with their face dirty with toothpaste." He says and everyone laughs.
"Everything will be provided, clothes, aesthetic treatments, it is possible that they will be sponsored by clothing or makeup brands, and who knows as actors, everything depends on your disinvestment. " staffs begin to circulate around the office giving us contracts. "These are the contracts, you will have medical follow-up, at all times, you can give up at any time."
"Well, the reality starts tomorrow, rest, organize your things, and good luck."
...
"I thought we were going to see JYP, not a motivational video of it." Chrissy, the American and pupil of Han says, while everyone goes down to return to the house.
"Do you really think he would show up to a bunch of newbies? Please." Rika, the Japanese, says, and Ariel agrees.
"Calm down, he'll probably be there tomorrow when the program starts." You say, and Zuri agrees. "Our first episode is... presentation." You say while reading the calendar that was given.
"Will the boys arrive tomorrow too?" Ariel asks.
"Probably, it's the first episode." Heidi answers.
It means that there were hours left for you to meet Chan, it was frighteningly exciting. You had imagined so much, thought so much, your heart throbbed just thinking about looking into his eyes. But you needed to stay serious, that was your chance, your only chance.
What do you think of a fanfic where there is a reality show to debut, your mentor will be Chan, you two clearly have something, but dating is strictly prohibited
hihi babes, I've been a little gone but I keep writing
(I voted wrong just to see the result of the poll )🙂↔️
Vampire!Bang Chan x Reader | blood ritual, silk sheets, first time he finally takes you
🔞synopsis: You weren’t looking for luxury. You were looking for survival. But then he chose you—Bang Chan. Now you sleep in silk, eat like royalty, and bleed for him on schedule. He’s fed from you before. Gentle. Controlled. Ritualistic. But he’s never fucked you. Not once. Tonight, that changes. Because his hunger is showing. His eyes are black. And you’re in that dress he bought you. And when he finally takes his bite—he doesn’t stop there.
💌a/n: OK SO LISTEN 🩸 Yes. I know I answered an ask ages ago about how Chan is so rich. but for this series? i said fuck it. switched it up. because he deserves it. you deserve it. silk sheets and bite marks forever. also no, i’m not making profiles for every member. that’s boring and I’m busy making them FEED AND FUCK INSTEAD 😌 priorities. if you’re not bleeding and shaking by the end, did you even read it? 🔪💋✨
p.s. reblog if it ruined you. reblog if you whimpered. reblog if you said “oh.” out loud.
p.p.s. more members coming next Wreck Me Wednesday!
p.p.p.s. blood tastes better when it’s yours. ok bye 🖤
⚠️ warnings: 18+ / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | biting kink | marking kink | blood drinking as foreplay (and during) | fingering + grinding | overstimulation | breeding kink language (explicit) | “mine” possessiveness dialled to 1000 | choking (light, erotic) | mirror of praise + filth | power imbalance | luxury kink | ritualistic aftercare | cum, blood, and luxury bath oils
The idea of becoming a Blood Doll didn’t start as a fantasy. It started as a last resort.
You weren’t desperate. Just… cornered. By bills. By bruises you didn’t ask for. By nights too long and mornings that arrived with nothing but guilt and cold toast. Seoul was a city of glass towers and low shadows. You had lived in both.
You weren’t supposed to know about the Veil. About vampires. About what they offered behind silk-curtained doors. But you did. One overheard conversation in a blood clinic waiting room was all it took. A name passed like a secret. A dare:
“LUXE Health. If you’re lucky, someone will choose you.”
So you cleaned yourself up. Not for them. For you. You memorized their rules. Got the bloodwork done. Sold everything else. And when you finally arrived—dressed in borrowed black with lips bitten pink—you didn’t flinch.
Because somewhere beneath the hunger and the silence, you had a single thought: “If I’m going to belong to someone… make it him.”
You saw him before he saw you. Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself now.
Bang Christopher Chan. The vampire who owns medicine. The one whose name is spoken in hushed reverence at trauma wards and whispered in moans between silk sheets.
Abnormal. Born, not turned. The kind of vampire the Veil fears because they cannot predict him.
He didn’t need to feed from you that night. He didn’t even touch you. Just read your file, looked into your eyes, and said—
“You’ll do.”
Not cruel. Not kind. Just… certain. And that certainty rewired you.
That was three months ago.
Now, you live on the top floor of a private Luxe facility in Gangnam. You don’t work. You don’t pay. You just exist—dripping in silk, gliding past glass, touched only by magic and occasionally by him.
You eat better than royalty. Your scent is monitored for health. Your sheets are laundered daily in blood-neutral detergent. Every book you ever mentioned liking? It's in your room. Your bath oils are imported. Your wardrobe is measured by hand.
But he hasn’t fucked you. Not once. Not yet. He’s fed. God, has he fed.
The first time, you thought you’d die from how soft he made it. The second time, you wanted him to bite deeper. The third time? You whimpered his name. He smiled, lips wet, but didn’t take you. Not then.
And yet—he gives.
A diamond choker with a spell-lock that hums when you're near danger. A dress you only wore once, now preserved in a glass case because he liked how you looked in it. Shoes hand-delivered from a Paris atelier, dyed to match the undertone of your skin. Perfumes keyed to his scent.
He gives like a man who has everything—except you.
Tonight, you had been his date. A Veil-chartered event in an underground gallery beneath Itaewon. Not that you paid much mind, except the fact that you stood by him looking all pretty, dressed by him.
And now? Now you’re back in the penthouse.
Your heels click across imported stone. You’ve just slipped off your earrings when you feel it—the hum in the walls. The signal. Feeding hour.
He’s never missed one.
You turn, heart already pounding.
He’s in the doorway. Loosened collar. No tie. Silver watch still on his wrist. And his eyes…
Black.
“Sit,” he says, voice silk-dark.
And you do, because God, you always obey.
He crosses the room like a secret unfolding—measured, lethal, beautiful. His gaze never leaves yours. Not even as he loosens the first button of his shirt. Not even as he sheds his jacket and drapes it over the back of a chair. The air shifts around him—cooler, heavier. The scent of cedar and clove curled in hunger.
You sit where he wants you. On the edge of the fainting couch, legs pressed together beneath silk that still smells like his cologne. Your lipstick is still intact. Your throat bare. The pulse at your neck, traitorous.
He kneels in front of you.
Not like a man worshipping. Like a vampire calculating.
His fingers brush your ankle, sliding upward in a touch so light it’s almost imagined—up the line of your shin, over your knee, until he’s nudging the hem of your gown higher, just enough to settle between your legs, kneeling. Commanding.
He doesn't speak right away. Just watches you.
Eventually, he reaches for your wrist. Not to feed.
Just to hold. “You're warm.”
You nod, breath shallow. "I always am. After we go out."
Something flickers across his face. Amusement? Possession?
He leans forward. Mouth hovering over your neck. Not touching. Just breathing. "Do you want the bite here?"
"Yes."
He doesn’t kiss you. He doesn’t ask again. He bites.
You gasp. His fangs are surgical. Smooth. Deep. You feel it in your blood, in your thighs, in the way your dress shifts against your hips as your whole body arches toward him.
It’s not pain. It’s pressure.
One of his hands at your waist, the other on your thigh, grounding you as he drinks your sweet blood in slow. His tongue flicks once. Just once. Over the wound.
And that’s what makes you whimper.
His groan is almost inaudible. Almost. He drinks a little deeper.
You clutch the shoulder of his shirt and try to stay still—but you can’t.
You shift. You rub your knees together. You tilt your head further back like it’ll coax more of him out, like it’ll make him—
He stops. Pulls back. Blood on his lips. Collarbone flushed. Hands tighter now.
You’re panting.
"You should rest."
But he doesn’t mean it. Because his eyes are still black. And his cock is hard under his trousers. And you’re still in that dress he picked—silk, slit high, neckline low enough for his teeth to dip beneath.
“You’re still hungry,” you whisper.
He says nothing. But his hand slides higher up your thigh. Just barely. Just enough.
“Feed again,” you murmur.
He exhales. Shaky. Like he’s fighting something ancient. “If I feed again,” he says, voice wrecked, “I won’t stop.”
Your reply is immediate. “I don't want you to stop.”
His hand grips your thigh harder.
A beat. Two. And then—he snaps. His mouth crashes to yours like it’s the only law he’s ever obeyed.
Hot. Wet. Starving.
There’s no finesse. No restraint. Just tongue and breath and blood—your blood—smearing between your lips as he kisses you like he’s waited centuries. You taste iron and cedar and the slick salt of him groaning into your mouth.
His palm slides up your spine, yanks you forward. You gasp. He swallows it. You moan. He deepens it. Your fingers claw at his shirt, dragging it open, buttons scattering somewhere onto the marble.
“Chan—”
“Shut up,” he growls, biting your bottom lip, licking where it splits. “I told you. I won’t stop now.”
You don’t want him to.
Because you can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t survive if he doesn’t keep kissing you like that—like he’s drowning in you and wants to take you under with him.
He stands, dragging you up with him, your body flush to his. His hands on your ass, gripping through silk. You feel him—hard and heavy—pressed against your stomach. You grind against him. Shameless. He groans into your mouth like you just handed him your soul.
“On the bed,” he rasps, voice ruined.
You don’t walk. You stumble. He follows, eyes black, jaw clenched, pupils blown so wide you swear they swallow the moonlight.
Three steps from the bed, you spin and grab him by the open collar of his shirt—what’s left of it—and pull.
Hard.
He stumbles with you, low grunt in his throat, and you fall back onto the sheets like gravity’s been waiting for this moment.
Silk against your spine. Chan above you, braced on trembling arms. His shirt ripped wide open from your fingers, chest heaving. Eyes on your lips before leaning in again. Lips on your own. Tongue hot and deep, one hand gripping your jaw like he wants to brand his name there.
His knee shoves between your thighs and you start grinding against it. Moan into his mouth like a sinner under oath.
Your dress slips off one shoulder and of course he notices and his mouth leaves yours—trailing fire down your throat, tongue flicking the half-healed bite on your neck. You arch like a live wire. He sucks. You cry out. And then he speaks against your skin.
“You don’t understand what you’ve just done,” he rasps, voice shaking. “Letting me kiss you. Letting me taste it from your lips…”
He presses his forehead to your collarbone. His breath shudders. So does your body. “I’ve waited,” he says. “I’ve waited—every night. Let you heal. Let you rest. I was good.”
He lifts his head. Stares down at you. “But now you’ve ruined that.”
His hand slides under the slit of your dress. Fingers ghost over your inner thigh. He groans. "Fuck, you're so wet baby."
You whimper.
He leans down again, nose brushing your jaw, lips grazing your ear—
“One more bite,” he whispers. “Then I fuck you. And I don’t stop until your blood knows who it belongs to.”
"Please." You say. Desperate for it.
Chan's lips press against your shoulder, just below the dip of silk where your dress has fallen. He's slow, gentle, taking his time. Before finally, he bites and you gasp, sharp and wrecked.
His fangs in slowly this time. Not like earlier. No urgency. This bite is...savouring.
You clutch the sheets, back arching as he feeds again—mouth latched to your skin, tongue lapping slowly between pulses. Every draw pulls heat to your core. Every sound he makes against your skin echoes between your thighs.
And then you finally feel his hand parting your legs more, fingers brushing over your already soaked panties. You twitch and he groans into the wound.
"Dropping," he murmurs, mouth still on your flesh. "From being bit."
His fingers slip beneath the fabric. Contact. He traces the seam of your folds with two fingers before running them up again, pressing into your just enough to make your hips holt.
You moan out. That moan ripped straight from the center of you.
He chuckles darkly. Fangs still buried. Your blood on his tongue. Your cunt in his palm.
"So sweet," he growls. "Every part of you."
His thumb starts to circle that bundle of nerves. Not fast. Not hard. Just deep, tight pressure—rhythmic, possessive, hypnotic.
You’re panting now. Writhing. Your blood still feeding him as he works you from below.
His free hand grabs your thigh, pinning it open. “This pussy’s been waiting for me,” he hisses, licking over the bite again. “Wet and so so perfect for me.”
Two fingers thrust inside and your head snaps back. A choke moan spills out. You feel everything.
“Say it,” he demands, pulling back from your shoulder, licking the wound clean. “Say who owns you.”
“Y-You—fuck—Chan, it’s you—”
“Say it properly.”
His fingers curl just right.
“You own me,” you cry. “You own all of me—*fuck—*please don’t stop—”
“I told you,” he pants, mouth against your lips again, hand fucking you slow and deep, “I’m not stopping tonight.”
Chan finally pulled back, slowly. Fangs retracting from your skin. Mouth now painted with your blood again. He looks wrecked. Hair falling into his eyes. Chest rising like a storm's behind it. But his fingers? They've started fucking into you, a slow pace.
He sits back on his heels between your thighs, one hand fucking deep, slow, curling into that spot that makes your breath catch and your thighs twitch. The other hand trails up your waist until it cups your breast through the fabric. His thumb brushes over your nipple.
“Aw, look at you,” he coos, voice soaked in dark heat. “Dripping for me. Can feel it, baby girl.” His fingers move faster now—tight little thrusts that make your cunt clench, soak, squeal.
“You gonna cum?”
“Yes—yes, I—”
“I can feel it,” he growls. “All that sweetness pulling around my fingers. Fuck—so tight. So fucking good for me.”
He leans over, tongue lapping at the blood smeared down your clavicle while he finger fucks you harder. “That’s it. Let go. Be good. Cum on my hand.”
You cry out—knees jerking, hands clawing at the sheets, your entire body arching as heat snaps. Your orgasm crashes through you. But Chan doesn’t stop. Not until you’re trembling under him, cunt pulsing around his fingers, thighs soaked and twitching.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “You give so fucking much. You always do.”
He pulls his fingers out slow, watching the mess string between you.
Then—finally—his hands go to your dress. He peels it off of you, revealing every inch of your body to his hungry eyes. "Now," he murmurs, eyes dark again. "Now I take what's mine."
You barely catch your breath before you hear it—
The sound of his belt unbuckling.
Fast. Sharp. Desperate. He’s done waiting. His slacks fall in seconds. Boxers shoved low. His cock now in full view. Heavy, thick, veins pulsing. He is already flushed, the tip angry red and dripping.
Your mouth parts in awe. Your cunt clenches in instinct. “Look at you,” he breathes, crawling back over you, cock resting hot against your thigh. “Already shaking… and I haven’t even put it in yet.”
He grabs himself—gives one slow stroke, tip dragging along your folds as he lines up. You feel the heat of it.
“You want it?” he rasps.
“Yes. Please—”
“Then take it.”
And he pushes in. Slowly, gently, wanting to savour the feeling of your walls around his cock. You arch with a cry—eyes wide, fingers scrambling to hold onto something. But it’s no use. You’re being split. He’s so thick, and the stretch is perfect—too perfect. Your pussy tightens around him like velvet glove, and he groans low, forehead dropping to yours.
“Fuck, baby girl—so fucking tight—so good for me—”
He bottoms out.
One perfect grind of his hips. You feel everything. But he doesn't move yet, his hips flushed with yours.
"You take me so well," he whispers. "This pussy was made for me. You were made for me."
You whimper, breathless.
"Please—move—”
"I can. Remind me, who do you belong to baby?"
"You—you, Chan—fuck, I’m yours—”
"Good girl." he whispers. Pulling back and then slamming back in. Hard. Deep. Merciless. His thrusts picking up pace. Harder into you. Your body jerks up over the bed. He grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him.
Over and over.
The sound is obscene—skin on skin, soaked and slick. Your name is gone. All that exists is his name—Chan, Chan, Chan—echoing from your mouth, screamed into sheets, licked from your lips by the man breaking you open.
“You feel that?” he grits, fucking you deep, jaw clenched. “That’s mine. This body. This blood. This fucking cunt—”
He slaps your thigh. You moan.
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours—yours, yours, yours—”
He groans—fucks you harder. At least for a few more thrusts until he moves again. Shifts. Flips you over. Fast. Rough. Hands firm under your hips. One sharp drag and your body turns beneath him—your chest to the sheets, ass up, knees wide on instinct.
You gasp, caught off guard by the dominance of it. And he just laughs—low, filthy, feral.
“That’s better,” he growls behind you. “Now I can really fucking feel you.”
His hand spanks your ass and you jolt.
Chan drags his cock through your slick folds again. Lining himself up. "Stay still," he commands. "Take it.£
And he thrusts back in. Hard. Deep. Full.
You scream. Into the pillow.
He fills you so completely from this angle, cock hitting new spots you didn’t know existed. And when he grinds in deep—stays there—you feel your whole body shudder.
Chan's hand moves into your hair. Fisting it and yanking your head back just enough that you arch for him. And the other hand? It wraps around your throat.
"You look so pretty like this," he hisses into your ear. "Open. Dripping. Mine."
He starts moving again—fucking you slow and rough, every stroke long and deep and perfectly angled. You’re choking on moans now—your own breath caught in your throat where his hand rests, light but threatening. Possessive.
“You gonna cum again?” he pants, hips slamming into you. “Gonna soak me like a good little blood doll?”
You nod—whimper—beg.
“Say it,” he growls.
“I—I’m gonna cum—fuck, Chan, please—”
“That’s right,” he snarls. “Do it. Let go.”
He pulls your hair harder. His cock slams deeper. And you shatter. Second orgasm—harder than the first—slams through you like lightning. Your whole body convulses, cunt pulsing around him so tight he groans, slams in deeper, loses rhythm—
“Fuck.”
He lets go of your throat. Pushes you flat to the bed, still buried inside you.
And then? He pulls out—panting, ruined—and flips you again.
“We’re not done,” he breathes. “Not until I fill you.”
You’re breathless. Sprawled on the sheets on your back again after being flipped. Skin flushed, throat kissed red, thighs sticky and trembling.
But he’s not done.
Chan climbs over you again—eyes black, cock still hard, soaked with your slick and heat and ownership. He grabs your legs, lifts them, pushes them up high over his shoulders.
You whimper. He growls.
“One more,” he rasps. “You’re gonna take one more.”
And then he thrusts back in. His thrusts never easing up, except this time instead of being fast, they're harder, deeper. Hitting deep inside your pretty dripping cunt.
Your legs tremble where they rest on his shoulders, your hips arching up instinctively to meet his every thrust. He’s so deep now—your cunt swallowing every inch, fluttering around him like it already misses him when he pulls back.
“So tight,” he pants, sweat dripping from his jaw as he fucks into you. “So full. You feel that?”
He leans down—body folding over yours, pressing you into the bed. You gasp at the intensity—your knees practically touching your ears, your body caged beneath him. And before you know it, his mouth finds your throat again. Not the old bite. No.
This time it's lower. Right over your pulse. A new mark. A new claim.
He sinks his fangs in—again. But this time? He cums. At the same fucking moment.
You feel it—his cock twitching deep inside you, spilling into you with a primal, guttural growl against your skin. His hips still grind as he pumps you full, fucking it deeper, deeper, until your stomach coils from the pressure and the heat and the ache.
“That’s it,” he pants against your skin. “Take it. All of it. I’m gonna fill you—mark you—fuck it so deep into you it'll leak all night.”
He’s still feeding, slow now—tongue lapping, lips suckling, like your blood is the final part of the ritual.
And you? You’re crying his name.
“Chan—Chan—fuck—yes—yours—”
He lifts his head, face painted with blood and victory and crashes his lips onto yours.
Wet. Possessive. Full of cum and blood and everything he is.
“Good girl,” he whispers, against your swollen lips. “My good little blood doll.”
He pulls out—slow. Your thighs twitch. His cum leaks from between them. He watches it, chest heaving, and smirks before his eyes move on to you. Eyes no longer black, but softer now, sparklier. You’re wrecked beneath him, trembling and flushed, marked in blood and sweat and cum.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, fingers ghosting up your thigh. “You took me so well.”
You try to speak. Can’t. All you can do is breathe—shaky, grateful, undone. He leans down. Presses one kiss to your cheek. Another to your temple. Then the curve of your throat where your blood still lingers.
“You’re okay,” he whispers, so gentle it nearly makes you cry. “You’re mine now. And I take care of what’s mine.”
He moves with eerie speed after that, but never rushes you. One moment he’s gone, and the next—he’s back.
A warm cloth in his hand.
Something for your bite marks.
A glass of cold water.
A square of dark chocolate—your favourite.
“Small sugars after feeding,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Prevents dizziness. Helps the body remember pleasure.”
You nibble it, fingers weak. He watches every movement like it’s precious.
Then he scoops you into his arms. You’re already drifting—high on oxytocin, on safety, on the way he smells like expensive oud and dark cherry blood.
“Where are we going…?” you murmur.
“Bath,” he says, already striding down the marble hallway. “You’re not sleeping with my cum leaking down your thighs onto silk sheets."
You huff a laugh into his chest. "Didn't you say you wanted me to leak all night?"
"I don't remember that. I never said that." But Chan is smiling, dimple smile and his ears are red.
In the bathroom, he takes the time to set you down on the edge of the tub gently while he takes care of filling it up with warm water, adding in jasmine oils. Whilst the tub fills up, Chan steps back to undress fully now, taking off that ripped shirt off.
By the time the tub is filled up, Chan makes sure to ease you in the tub, hands firm yet gentle before sliding in behind you and pulling your back to his chest, arms wrapping around your waist.
"You did so well tonight," he says softly, mouth brushing your shoulder. "I told you id' take care of you."
You nod. Too relaxed to speak.
His fingers draw idle shapes over your stomach, over the curve of your breast, over the softest parts of you that no one else touches.
“Sleep here, if you want,” he whispers. “Stay here. Forever.”
You simply relax, your head against his shoulder, eyes fluttered closed, breathing steady. "Mmm...forever." you murmur.
And Chan leans down to press a kiss to the side of your head.
Chan: whenever I feel sad or frustrated that I can’t fix a problem I look at a picture of all of us together
Stray Kids: awwww
Chan: and I think if I can keep these dumbasses alive, then I can do fucking anything
I'm so, so sad with the announcement of the skz shows, it will be in my country. But it's in a different state from where I live, here shows are so expensive (get to a minimum wage) . It may seem selfish but I asked God so much not to have their shows here, because it's impossible for me to think about going, and as if that wasn't enough, one of the shows will be the day before my birthday. I don't think I'll be able to celebrate this year, Chan, I hope you enjoy our energy, what our country offers, I would love to see you, even if it would only hurt me more, arrive and go safely. I adore u
Author's note: I didn't think I could write about it and I would like to, so I sent it in the form of requests to some writers that I consider enough to do such a feat. But here is my version, I hope others do your reading too, this idea deserves many versions.
Voyver! Boyfriend / Chan!idol x Yn! Fem reader
📍 dumbfication, daddykink, spit, creampie, cum inside, Pet nicknames (baby, princess, love, etc), chan dom, yn sub, without protection, subspace, oral, skrit, High confident Chan.
"I think your act is beautiful, I wouldn't get this beautiful girl with anyone else." Chan says touching his chin, while you sitting the bed follows him as if he were looking at a Greek god, the middle of his legs tight and wet in the short plaid skirt. And your boyfriend with a serious face in front of the armchair.
"She deserves it, she was a good girl." He says sighing, it wasn't your gift dream, but he would do anything for you, until he gave you on a tray to your favorite idol.
"Oh, did she go?" Chan's fingers hold your chin, and you swallow dryly when you see his arm tense on the black tank top. "Is she always good like that?" He leans over watching his blushed face well, and you seemed nothing less than glazed on his face, panting.
"At first she was rougher, because she had never been in a relationship, but then she managed to relax, and she is more than good." Your boyfriend explains looking carefully at all your movements, he felt invisible, you didn't even blink while looking at the man touching you.
"Ah.. so I'm your second little girl?" He asks caressing your jaw and you nod. "How modest." Chan laughs. "Shall we take off this blouse? Show dad everything, except the skirt, princess." He says serious, releasing his chin, watches you taking piece by piece, leaving only the blue skirt. "So beautiful, you are perfect doll."
Chan's voice makes you tremble a little, he exhaled an aura that completely dominated you, you felt helpless and weak, you just wanted to please him.
The shirt flies from Chan's body, pulling a sigh out of you. "Let's go for the basics, okay? I don't want to scare you." He says tender, changing the tone completely, sitting next to you facing your body, his hand snakes to the middle of your legs, touching your clitoris making you gaspe and hold the strong wrist as support. "Wet.. very wet." He says while hearing the embarrassing noises of his fingers, and his panting breath.
Chan lays down his body opening his legs more, giving a great view to his boyfriend, who was moving in the armchair uncomfortable. "Your breasts are so beautiful love.. they fit perfectly in my mouth."
Chan says before completely gribbing one of your breasts, making you arch your back, and whine loudly. His fingers increase in pace when he feels his stronger lubrication. And when he tries to insert a finger, he moans with his breast in his mouth, thinking about how tight you were.
"Damn, how do you get into it?" Chan says as he gets up, and his boyfriend shrugs, somewhat annoyed.
"I'm just careful, she can handle it." He says and chan sighs, sooting not to agine his cock being so tight that way at that moment.
One, two, three fingers were enough to make you roll your eyes, and make chan reach the point of almost insanity, the fast fingers, made a loud noise and his moans accompanied without shame anymore.
"Chan-chan, can I come, p-please!" Chan looks at you surprised by the question, were you so well trained?
"So good for asking, come to daddy love." The simple words make you tremble and close your legs with his hand in the middle, while you ride your high.
Your boyfriend stirs once again, feeling hard and jealous, you never came so strong at first with him.
"Princess? Do I need you to tell me, with protection or not?" Chan bends down to the height of his vitreous eyes, falling in love with his fucked face, caressing the side of his face.
"S-no, daddy, no." Chan cracks his jaw with the answer and nods, holding his face with one hand, and lifting the upper of his body easily, his hands cling to his firm wrist, and he sides the side of the end of the bed, so that his boyfriend has full vision.
"She likes crampie, in case you want to know." Your boyfriend murmurs against his taste, and chan turns to you as if he had seen something rare.
"Does the princess like to feel full?" He says and touches below your stomach, where your uterus would be, and presses lightly, giving you goosebumps. "Do you want my fucking here? Dripping from you?"
It was the end, you rolled your eyes just with that line, and nodded almost desperate. "Yes, Dad, I want to be full"
Chan smiles and moves away to lower his pants, the thick and not at all small cock appeared and made you sigh, would that fit?
"Let's go slowly, baby, I don't want to hurt your princess parts, hm?" He says lying partially on top of your body, watching you nod the speech, your arms surround his neck, and when the thick tip meets the tight entrance, he slowly enters, moaning immediately by the grip, you tilt your head without ever imagining what it would be like to be widened like that.
As much as her boyfriend was not small, he was not like chan, he lifted his body little by little, to have greater control of the slowness, and not to go crazy listening to his sighs and moans.
"Damn, look at this.." he says growling, seeing the cock almost completely inside. "Almost princess, a little more, can you do it? Do you feel good?" Damn, taking care of you at a time like this made you more horny, he moans feeling your grip.
"Yes, you can go, Dad, continue." Look where you connect, you watch the complete junction of your hips, and it was inevitable, the thick tip redding in the mouth of your uterus, the surreal widening and the feeling of being full was enough to make you cum again untouched, squeezing chan that held himself while squeezing your waist strongly to prevent you from moving too much.
"Did you just come with my cock inside?" He asks incredulously, seeing the white circle wrapped around his cock. "Fuck girl." He says feeling even more like fucking you, his state was almost deplorable if it wasn't beautiful. Your boyfriend was discredited watching the whole scene.
Leaning on you again and filling your face with kisses, kissing your neck, breasts and mouth, chan tries to wait for your high to go down a little, and has you returning the caresses after a while.
"You can go, dad." His low phrase makes chan's hips involuntarily move away and meet his again, making both moan.
The beginning of the lunges was romantic and calm, but after chan gets up again, he increases the strength and rhythm, both listen to the bed squeak and swing with the lunges, so overloaded and full, you moaned, while holding your breasts, preventing them from jumping too much.
"Where were you all this time? Dad always looked for a princess like that." Chan talks while still sinking into you, making your situation worse." So beautiful, such a good girl, taking daddy as if it were nothing." He releases your waist and holds your leg tightly, leaving the sample of your finger marks on your skin.
"F-background, p-dad! Ch-filled!" His words were more than random, chan was finally fucking you dumb, it was more than a dream.
"I need you to become a princess." He says stopping completely and leaving you, making you growl, and gives you a nice slap on the thigh, helping you turn around as if it weighed nothing. "You're not going to leave dad without seeing that beautiful ass, are you?" He says as he watches you position yourself on all fours in front of him, sighing with the position he enters again, making you moan loudly while grabbing the sheets. "Shin it.. what a bottom."
Chan begins to lose the pity of his small body, going harder, with brutality, his moans encouraged him and you felt in an irrational subspace.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" You repeated like a sacred mantra, the slap on your ass made you jump weakly forward, your left hand held your skirt like a lever and your right hand went to your neck, pulling your body a perfect bow to meet chan's face.
"You're so fucked princess, so beautiful crying, I think I fell in love with you." He confesses in your ear, making you hold your wrist on his neck, while listening to him carefully "your pussy was born for my cock, we can't separate them, can we?" His murmurs in agreement only increased Chan's ego. "I need you to tell me if you want inside, or not, before I decide." He says taking his hand from his neck to his hair, still supporting you, while stocking you until eternity.
"Inside, inside daddy, inside!" Another slap makes you moan and he pulls you by the neck again,
"Open your mouth, baby." He says and you obey blindly, and moan when you feel the spitting ball go down your throat. "So good, my love." He praises and takes his hand back to your intimacy, using his fingers to help you come. "How about coming to dad? Daddy will have to give all his little children, you will be such a beautiful mom, hm? Do you want princess?"
Her high-pitched moan exceeded the expectations of her boyfriend who was dumbfounded, and soon became incredulous when he saw you squirt, wetting the bed and the skirt you wore.
Still feeling your grip, chan shamelessly turns you without leaving you, and stocks up again in an animalistic way, moaning for whoever wanted to hear. "Such a good girl, such a good princess." And holding his waist firmly, he has his orgasms while throwing his head back, feeling ropes and more ropes coming out of him, as had never happened before, you stirred, feeling hot and full, loving the feeling, completely sensitive and silly, and chan when he opened his eyes, felt even more in love.
"Hm, I think already-" your boyfriend was cut off when chan withdrew from you, with his cock all honeyed and still a little hard, and made a point of turning his legs to him showing all the sperm coming out, gushing from his intimate as if it were yours. The thick fingers quickly punched inside again, making you squirm, sensitive.
"Opedy princess, full as I promised." Chan says and sees you still completely absorbed in her subconscious. "Princess? Talk to me." He says it's when you get up with his help, stare at him in a vitreous way, going down his face and finding the beautiful cock still honeyed. "Princess?" Chan tries to get his attention, but his quick movement in getting on his knees on the bed and bending down to take the member to his mouth, cleaned all the remnants of sperm, making Chan moan somewhat surprised.
"What the fuck.." her boyfriend was going to intervene, but Chan raised his hand stopping him.
"This is called a subconscious state, she hasn't fully returned, it's almost an impulse, and it's dangerous to intervene." Chan says and her boyfriend keeps watching you suck another man's cock with pleasure. "Hey, hey, princess.. I'm fine, thank you." He gently touches your shoulders, making you get up and look as if it were something precious. "Are you okay? If so, wave to me" chan says caressing your face and you nod slowly, blinking slowly. "Great princess, I'm going to take a bath for you, I need you to lie down." Chan says slowly while helping you lie down. "Good girl." He praises and kisses your forehead, your nose, and seals your mouth, seeing you breathe slowly and smile minimally at him, warming your heart.
Her boyfriend had two problems now, one between his legs, and an inferiority syndrome that he doesn't know if he could repair.
“Need him real fucking bad rn. I’m shaking. Like whoever is pleasing this man every night is so goddamn lucky and I know they know it. Fuck I need him. No I want him. I dream of him. Can’t think of anything besides being his. No thoughts just being his. All fucking his with nothing else on my mind but to please him all day every day. Just to be his good girl. To be whatever he wants me to be…. Wanna make him so proud and happy all the time! Wanna take care of him how he takes care of everyone else. Wanna know what it feels like to know him inside and out. God I want him….no I need him, please!”
- sincerely a Chan girl…
Yall are just gonna have deal with me freaking out and gushing over these new pics of Chris for now okay..
