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[cattolino]

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[cattolino]

not very friendly of you.

pairing: mechanic changbin x f reader

warnings: mature content! MDNI! profanities, childhood best friends, (accidental) fwb, implied mutual pining, oral (m receiving), piv, praise kink, exhibitionism, car sex, implied multiple rounds.

word count: 4.9k

summary: one night Changbin jokingly instigated a sexual relationship with no strings attached and you easily agreed in the name of experience. the dynamics between you and him remain consistently the same as prior to the arrangement; him being obviously in love with his best friend, and you being the oblivious best friend; him being your personal mechanic, and you being his loyal customer. or so he thought. the more often he spends those lustful nights with you, the more he doubts this fwb arrangement will work any longer.

“Wanna go again?”

But his cock was already rubbing against your sensitive clit when he whispered in your ear. The ragged breath that followed made his question sound more like a desperate suggestion.

Beneath him, you were still evening your breath from the burst of blissed out sensation he’d brought upon you just moments ago. Your eyes closed and lips parted and legs trembling, his release trickled out of your cunt onto his car seat. With the pads of his forefinger and middle finger, he rubbed the thick fluid and smeared it gently over your clit, making you squirm at the sensation.

In the cramped space of the backseat where there was little to no extent to stretch your legs and arms, your body had become weary and stiff, and yet as if enchanted, “yes… yes, please…”

Carefully he parted your legs more to make room for him to move. His strained grunts fanned against the side of your face as he sank the tip of his cock into the warmth that enveloped him leisurely just less than twenty minutes prior. Your whines dammed up his ears as he slid in his length all the way to the base into your warm walls, the thin ooze of your juice made it easy and pleasant.

“You even said please,” he stared at your lips for a moment, before shaking his head to leave the thoughts behind, and kissed your blushed cheek instead, “my pleasure, darling.”

…

THUMP!

A chain of curses flew out of Changbin’s lips as he rubbed the back of his head to ease the sting. It was the umpteenth time he got distracted and bumped his head against the hood of the SUV he was working on since early that morning.

The erotic images from a couple nights prior constantly crept into his mind like a stubborn colony of ants crawling up at the smell of a bread crumb. He snorted at his own incapability to drive away that memory.

What he had with you was nothing more than a sexual arrangement he had shamelessly and half-jokingly proposed on a random movie night after an accidental makeout. Being childhood and long-time best friends, he hadn’t expected you to say yes, let alone so easily as if it was an arrangement for another movie night. Twice a week you both ended up seeing each other to satiate your lustful needs, which progressively intensified to a regular agenda he came to anticipate the more he got to have a taste of you.

But the reminiscent of those passionate nights had begun to take up too much space in his everyday life. He pictured how your body writhed under him, how you called his name time and time again, how your hands reached to caress his neck and bring him close, how your hair was damp with sweat, how effortlessly beautiful you were naked.

He wondered if it would affect him the same if he were to pleasure someone else—someone he wasn’t falling in love with.

Damn that arrangement. If only he had been a little braver that day to propose something more romantic than occasional sex. A relationship, for an instance. But he was too cowardly, afraid that the decades of friendship would shatter just because he looked at you as somebody so much more than just a friend.

His train of thought was cut short by a familiar ragged engine sound in the distance.

Changbin wasn’t a tad bit surprised when he saw a familiar old blue sedan nearing and lining up in the lot of the Car Wash and Auto Detailing where he spent most of his days. Through the wide open windows Keshi’s ANGOSTURA pierced through the warm spring air. The bluetooth he had put in the old car’s stereo two months ago seemed to work fine.

He dropped the wrenches and walked over to greet the driver he had gotten bored of seeing.

“At this point just tell me you can’t stand being away from me too long,” he said when you climbed out of your car. He wiped the grime remnants off his fingers with a washcloth that was already besmirched with stains of motor oil. “But we’re fully booked today. Come back in a week.”

“Is that how you talk to your loyal customer?” He couldn’t hold his grin when you clung to his arm, wearing your fakest heartbroken pout and woeful eyes to get him taking your car in for repair. Again. This was the third time in the last two months.

The car was well nigh crumbling. At first he had always thought there was too much work where it wasn’t worth the sweat he and his team shed and definitely not the large sum you set aside from your paycheck. But the car was one of the last of your brother’s possessions he let you have before he passed away nine years ago. Changbin knew you wouldn’t give up on the ancient vehicle before it totally gave up on you first. And giving up on you was what the car had been doing hence the amount of repairs it needed in a short period of time. It was only a matter of time until the car succumbed to its demise. Until then, Changbin was willing to fix anything there was to fix for you.

But where’s the fun if he didn’t playfully insult the junk you treasured most?

“You’d be faster on foot.” Changbin remarked with a snort after a quick check.

You weren’t aware of the dirty smudges from his coveralls smearing your pleated skirt and white pullover as you kept on pestering him by clinging to his arm. In spite of his indifference, he discreetly relished in every second of that physical contact.

“I’m always on time,” you pleaded, “so please?”

“Chan got himself this antique convertible car of his dream but his carport is too small for two cars to squeeze in,” he spun on his heel and headed off to the repairing station, nodding his chin in the direction where a shiny red Hyundai sedan, Chan’s old car, was parked in the corner, “he wants to get rid of her as soon as possible. What do you think?”

Changbin knew you wouldn’t give a damn. But Chan asked him to talk you into purchasing the car just in case.

As predicted, you gave the red Hyundai an uninterested glance before stalking behind him towards a customer’s car he mended. He pulled out a wrench from the pocket of his coveralls and bent over the SUV’s engine. He added half-heartedly, “save the money and save more from your monthly paycheck for four to five months. I’ll talk to Chan if you’re interested.”

“Or you can take the money and fix my car for me,” you insisted, looking over your shoulder at a black mustang parked in the lot reserved for the staff. A majestic vehicle that was the silent witness of a number of obscene activities shared between you two. “Besides, you haven’t paid your car off yet, have you?”

“No,” he replied casually, getting a little too entertained by your persistence, “but I’m taking care of that just fine, so your point is?”

You leaned against the SUV’s door with folded arms, “you're not very friendly right now.”

Changbin chuckled, “I don’t think we’ve been very friendly to each other these days.”

“Meaning?”

At the sight of your innocently curled eyebrows, Changbin bursted out laughing. His mouth ran faster than his brain sometimes. No regrets. But he was relieved you failed to grasp what he meant. “Forget it.”

“So how long does my car need to be in the workshop?”

He placed both hands on his hips, fingers hooked onto his coveralls pockets.

“A week maybe,” he glanced at your sedan, a mischievous glint flashed in his gaze when he looked back at you, “but like I said we’re fully booked right now and I don’t suppose we’d get even a tad bit available for the next couple of weeks. I’m gonna need more people to fix every troubled part of your car if you want it back faster, that means we’re gonna be short-staffed at the carwash station.”

It was supposed to be a mindless joke that shouldn’t be taken into consideration.

You were supposed to climb into the passenger seat of his mustang.

He was supposed to give you a ride home as usual.

But then you asked if there was a spare uniform and where the locker room was. Changbin laughed and shooed you away to your next agenda, even almost took off his coveralls and drove you home, but Jisung and the other staff in the carwash station had been in fact overwhelmed with the queue of customers even before Changbin could drag some of them into the repairing station to help fix your car.

“I don’t have anything to do at home anyway,” you insisted, winking an eye at him.

He thought it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.

Until you came out of the staff room and he gave himself a mental punch in the face because the only spare uniform was impossibly tight.

One could say the same thing about his coveralls that not only did its tight fit flaunt his impeccably sculpted pecs, it was also parading his perfectly round ass and his bulging arms that the short sleeves could barely provide a cover for. It was safe to say he had attracted a good number of loyal customers with his build alone. Adding his sexy brain and charming nature to the mix, he became a target of flirting remarks and dinner invitations. The workshop had easily dodged financial crisis, happy ending.

But this time it wasn’t about him.

The polo top of the carwash team’s uniform was so tight around your neck that you left the top buttons undone. The hem of the shirt barely covered your waist and couldn’t be tucked into the waistband of the shorts that there was a good portion of skin every time you bent over. And the shorts… they hugged your ass nicely. Way too nicely that it left a pinch to imagination—to his imagination precisely.

Apart from sneaky glances of curiosity, the other staff gave little to no further interest and focused on their respective chores. But that was mainly because they knew who they were going to deal with if they stared too long. Changbin was already hard to please, so fishing out even a little bit of his wrath would be like digging their own grave.

The hood of your sedan was opened. Changbin bent over to check the engine. He tried, because his gaze kept straying away towards the carwash station. It would’ve been better if Jisung had offered spare coveralls. It was getting harder to look away especially from the shorts because he knew what was beneath—

THUMP!

How many more times did he have to bump his head against a car hood? He internally scoffed at his questionable professionalism in your presence.

“You okay?” Chan was approaching with his usual essential tools in hand. “You’ve been very distracted.”

From the grin stretching on the older’s face, it was safe to assume Chan knew exactly what—or who—had caused that distraction but chose to tease the younger either way. “I wonder what makes her terribly oblivious when you’re this obvious.”

“Mhm,” Changbin agreed, “but I used to hide it very well.”

Chan opened the door and checked the dashboard warning lights, before immediately sliding out again. He looked in the direction of the carwash station where you and Jisung were guiding the cars into, “I’m surprised your possessive ass didn’t run riot when she came out in that. Our customers are very pleased with the view, you see.”

Changbin knew what Chan was talking about, but Jisung wasn’t assigned—as per Changbin’s own request—beside you to solely ensure you did your part well. Changbin trusted the younger could stave off anyone who crossed the line.

“My advice,” said Chan, settling a creeper in position, “don’t wait too long.”

Changbin snorted, and Chan slid under your car.

You were spraying excessive dirt off of a jeep as it was loaded into the wash. Jisung pointed at the spots that needed an extra cleaning while spraying dead bugs off of the windshield himself.

As soon as you were done and Jisung was guiding the jeep to steer into the wash, the driver instead rolled the window down and spoke to you.

Changbin didn’t have to come closer to catch the jock’s eyes falling to your lower half more often than they should. You laughed at something the driver had said, whipping your head around and looking directly at where Changbin was no longer bending over and was instead standing by the bumpers of your car with folded arms.

He didn’t want to jump into conclusions and thought you were speaking about him to the man as you could’ve talked about your wrecked car or about Chan on the creeper under your car or perhaps even something else entirely different. It wasn’t until the man offered him an awkward grin and a flash of annoyance before rolling up the window and entering the wash.

Changbin wasn’t curious about what you might have told that man at first. But seeing Jisung busted a gut beside you and shook his head while looking at him, Changbin couldn’t help but internally enquiring what could be so funny.

…

The sun had almost set and the majority of the staff had gone home. After showering, Changbin scurried over to his car. He organised his belongings on the backseat and wiped the leather seat clean (that was already clean). He did the same to the front passenger seat. Then he sat behind the wheel, waiting.

An overwhelming scent of musk from his perfume occupied every nook of the interior of his mustang, and wearing perfume wasn’t part of his routine going home. Usually he would only give his body a quick rinse to wash off the grime and dust after having spent the whole day grappling with stinky engines, and settle on a proper shower at home. Not this time.

He didn’t wait long before the passenger door swung open and you rushed inside with your own bag and a chunky looking tote on your lap. The floral scent of your perfume mixed with his musk made the smell inside his car a little dizzying, like walking in the aisle of an endless row of perfume shops.

“Do you not have anything less bigger?” You tried to adjust the hem of the black hoodie that buried your frame in its thick fleece. There was a reason why you had bolted from the shower room to the parking lot... “And maybe some pants?”

Changbin leaned over to you all of a sudden, causing you to recline back onto the seat in surprise. The back of his hand subtly grazed over your bare thigh when he fastened your seatbelt.

“You look amazing.” He teased, starting the engine and departing to the main road.

The chunky tote bag was borrowed from Jisung for your half-wet pullover and skirt. Changbin had tried to wash the motor oil stains off of your clothes earlier with soap and baking soda, and while the remaining light brown patch, like tea stain, wouldn’t have been noticeable on any darker fabric, it was a different case when it came to white clothes. Of course.

“Sorry about your clothes. I’ll buy you prettier ones.” Said he when you tossed your bag and the tote onto the backseat.

“Partly my fault for hugging you and wearing white to the workshop, but I’ll take the offer. I’m free tomorrow.”

He briefly glanced at you with an annoying wriggle of his brow, “is it a date?”

“What else? Field trip?”

He giggled.

“By the way, the jeep driver,” he cleared his throat, “what did he say to you?”

“Just some stuff about his dick,” you shrugged, then your eyes narrowed in a teasing manner, “you already stared when I looked. Why?”

“Gotta make sure you do your job right.”

“So you were definitely not staring at a particular pair of cheeks?”

His crooked smile was enough of a confession.

He slowly pushed the brake as the vehicles around were beginning to move slower. “And what did you say to him?”

“I said,” you beamed, gaze intently affixed on the smooth outline of his face, trying to catch even the subtlest changes in his expression at your response, “it’s hard to satisfy me when the inside of my cunt is already reshaped into the shape of my boyfriend’s big dick.”

Changbin subconsciously clenched his jaw. Something twitched down there.

“Jisung thought it was funny,” you added, “but then he actually asked if I was serious about your cock’s size. He wasn’t the least bit interested in whether or not you’re really my boyfriend…”

“Everybody thought I am.” He said.

“…or whether or not we actually fuck. Is it way too obvious what we do behind closed doors?” You chuckled.

“Chan and Jisung know I’d be with you most of the time when I don’t have work, and according to Jisung I smell like you sometimes. It’s not rocket science for them to piece things together.” Now Changbin wasn’t sure what he felt when he said these things. It was always obscure to him. He got turned on at the thought that you’d willingly use him whenever somebody tried to flirt with you, but at the same time, the way you talked about these things so casually cracked his ego a little bit.

He was going to say something but you beat him to it.

“I gotta tell them that you start everything most of the time because look, a little compliment for your dick and there it is,” Your eyes dropped to the tent he didn’t realise had formed in the middle of his sweats, “let me help you with that?”

Grey sweats were not made to hide a bulge. Not that he was embarrassed, not after you had so casually praised his cock when you knew all too well how it would affect him. But the thing was, he couldn’t possibly say yes to your kind offer in the middle of traffic, could he?

He could. His needs overpowered his common sense and it showed when he took your hand and placed it over his erection.

You smiled in triumph, giving his clothed cock soft strokes with your palm, deliberately pressing your hand over what felt like the head of his half-erected cock. Your hand slipped inside through the waistband, holding the warm girth in your palm. A couple of gentle strokes later, your thumb rubbed over the tip, playing with the sensitive flesh until not long after there was an evident wet patch on the grey fabric indicating his precum. Just a little more… you could see it from his face and muffled groans.

But your hand slipped out.

“Baby…” Changbin clutched your wrist, stroking your skin with his thumb, “just a little more, please. I’m almost there.”

“I know,” you cooed, “I’ll make you feel better, promise.”

The vehicles barely moved, the sun was dipping below the horizon. The golden hour ebbed into nightfall quickly, guaranteeing secretion now that there wasn’t any more sunlight.

Changbin gave in to the heat of infatuation that would have him overthink once he was no longer affected by your intoxicating touches. He preferred your apartment, or at least the backseat of his car for a proper sex, but it wasn’t the time where he could push you away when you were this good.

In the meantime he had to be satisfied with sitting helplessly in the driver seat while you did all the work.

He clutched the wheel tightly, trying to remain intact into the seat despite the slow pace of your head bobbing up and down as your mouth devoured his girth, eager to swallow all the way down to the back of your throat although it was a difficult feat given the size of his length.

You kept your ass in the air and knees nailed to your seat, the hem of the hoodie rolled down and pooled around your chest. If the car windows weren’t layered with privacy films, the pretty view of your panties and firm ass would’ve been a pleasant entertainment amidst the stress of the rush hour traffic. Changbin wouldn’t have liked it.

While one hand gripped the wheel a little more loosely, the other one slithered across the arched plane of your back and further up to where he felt your wet panties. You whimpered at the touch of his fingers against your clothed cunt, making his fully hardened length twitch in your mouth at the vibration.

You sucked his cock delectably and forced yourself to swallow just a tad bit more until you could feel his tip made contact with your throat. His sweet grunts and gentle caresses on your hair were enough of praises for you, “feels good, take me so well, you’re so good…”

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, one digit sliding up and down your wet folds. He gasped when you pulled your head away completely and swirled your tongue around the head of his length, licking the precum that spilled from the slit. Instantaneously his hand clutched a handful of your hair, pushing you down to swallow his cock again, he was so fucking close at this point you could see the tip of his cock the colour of blood.

“I’m sorry, love,” his fingers ran through your hair softly as an additional apology.

You suckled his cock with a hum, too preoccupied to process what the apology was for.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he reclined back into the seat, subconsciously ramming his hips up until the head of his cock nudged the back of your throat over and over again.

Your scalp began to sting at his grasp, you whined. The sudden vibration once again sent an electric bliss to the pit of his stomach. His cock twitched inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

Tears formed in your eyes before they flew down at the intensity. Changbin’s cock grew a little bigger indicating his release, but you tried not to graze your teeth. He didn’t even realise he was holding back just to feel you longer, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

The muscles of your mouth contracted in greedy suck, your palm squeezed firm around the base of his cock that couldn’t go into your mouth, sensing how close he was to climax.

A swirl of your tongue was all it took for him to topple over. At the peak of ecstasy, he closed his eyes tight and humped his hips to feel more of your warmth and how it was drawing more and more of his release. His growls were hoarse, savouring the pleasant shockwaves you were bringing upon him.

The car behind beeped the horn at the time he slipped back to reality.

There was quite a wide gap between the bumpers of his mustang and the trunk of the sedan upfront.

“Hey…” he stroked a hand on your head, helping you off his cock and settling you back into the passenger seat, even fastening your seatbelt back on. One hand tugged at the waistband of his sweats to rest around his hips again, the other hand held the wheel and narrowed the distance with the car in front.

After managing a safe distance, he checked on you. He leaned over, ridding off the messy strands out of your face and combing your dishevelled hair.

Maybe he regretted it.

Because the tears rolling down your cheeks, the mixture of his cum and your spit gleaming in the corner of your lips, your lazy blinks, could be the sole reason for yet another climax.

That was an exaggeration of course, but his cock did twitch.

“Was I too rough?”

“No,” you sighed, smiling, “I liked it a lot.”

As all the cars seemed to move little by little, Changbin’s foot lingered in the air atop the gas pedal when he noticed a spacious gap between the cars on his left. In a matter of seconds he had reached a decision. He drifted his car into the wide gap and to the gate of a hotel.

“You’re not planning to reserve a room here now, are you?” After Changbin parked his car in the very far corner, you glanced around at the vast outdoor parking of the facility with only a few cars in sight, and looked up at the contemporary architecture of the hotel.

“We have enough space here,” he chuckled, but added quickly, “unless we’re planning on doing this all night then I’ll surely book us a room.”

“Just a quickie please,” you giggled, unbuckling your seatbelt, “but can you stay the night at my place? We can just cuddle and watch a movie and sleep.”

He agreed in a heartbeat, “I thought you wouldn’t ask.”

He unfastened his own seatbelt and reclined your seat all the way down, catching you off guard. He lifted your legs and spread them to make space for him to settle in between. Your panties were soaked.

He slid your panties up and let the fabric hang around your ankle, putting your cunt on display. Mirroring his impatience, you pulled his sweats down, his hard cock stood proud against his stomach as if he hadn’t just released pretty much a big load just moments before.

You pouted, your whine sounded more sensual than intended, “wanna blow you again so bad.”

He rubbed his cock against your folds, “what, you want me to retract back to my seat now?”

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer to you. He smiled, “that’s what I thought.”

A wrap was fished out of the dashboard. He rolled the latex around his length.

“You can suck me later all you want,” he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead while his hand guided his cock to align with your entrance, “we’re not in a hurry anyway.”

Changbin thought he might have to keep your car longer in his workshop and make you sit pretty in the passenger seat of his car every day. He wouldn’t mind driving you to work and picking you up if that meant to see you every day.

As the pace of his pounding was progressively getting frantic, his lips moved more affectionately. He left kisses on your shoulder and your collarbones and your neck, making sure to give your skin light sucks until they were adorned by several possessive red marks.

When his lips hovered over your face, he stared at your parted lips. So plump and inviting. He looked up and you were already looking, giving away that you knew where he had been staring.

“Can I?”

It broke the rules.

Kissing on the lips is strictly forbidden as long as the benefits are strictly sexual.

You wanted to give it to someone who shared mutual romantic feelings, you had said the day when the arrangement had been made. Changbin agreed. It was too much to ask anyway.

So, it broke the rules. To make it worse, this wasn’t some sort of a romantic lovemaking where he slowly undressed you on the bed with a night skyline view and a classic love song in the background. This was a lustful quickie as a result of a mind-blowing blow job you had given him earlier.

But you cradled his face in response and he swallowed your moans in an impassioned, wet kiss. His tongue played, and it was rather rough, and yet you could feel it in the kiss that he meant it. That it wasn’t just a kiss he initiated for fun. He wanted it, and so did you.

He could’ve come at the delicious clench of your walls around his girth, but more than that, he felt his heart throbbing abnormally and his stomach tight with pleasure just because your hands cupped his hot cheeks and your thumbs swept gentle strokes on the blushing skin. It was his first kiss with you, and Lords, was it amazing.

Changbin reluctantly pulled away from the kiss to let you breathe. “Okay? Was I too rough? Too much?”

Your lips were a little swollen at this point. “I love it.”

Burying his face in your neck, he grunted, half-high, “gotta satisfy you, yeah?” His thrusts slower but deeper, “gotta reshape your walls into the shape of your boyfriend’s big dick like what you said to that man?”

Something flashed in your eyes, Changbin couldn’t make out what that meant. But you smiled at him, pulling him closer with your legs, hugging him. When he thought you weren't going to say anything, your voice tickled in his ear in a whisper, “my boyfriend’s dick.”

Your cunt swallowed his length all the way to the base. He let you feel the uncontrollable throbs of his cock. He wished he wasn’t hearing things. Boyfriend, you emphasised it.

He rolled his hips a little, making you whine all the more desperately because his cock was pressing right into the spot that gave your stomach a pleasurable knot.

The car seat was wet, stained with your release. At the same time his hips squirmed as he filled the latex with his seed.

He caressed the side of your face, lips planting kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

Boyfriend. He thought to himself. Did you mean it?

a/n: woah it's finally here... i'd put off rewriting this fic for so long. some of you who found me through insta and have read this before, might remember that this was originally leaning more towards pwp, if not very little plot, but since a lot of readers back then wanted a part 2 i thought it'd be better to add more plot. hope you guys enjoyed reading this!

also i was thinking of making a taglist on future posts so let me know in the comments if you'd like to be added! :) <3

[91dreams91things]

*Wistfully sighing*

[cattolino]

his hair….. his hair is getting…… so much longer….. this is a sign for his hair stylist to……. experiment………. yeah……….

[hyunpic]

[hyunpic]

260418 hynjinnnn instagram live 🥟

[cattolino]

wanna rewrite my shapeshifter chan series so baddd rn

[cattolino]

new pet.

pairing: jeongin x f reader warnings: implicit makeout session, profanities, established relationship, witch&animagus!jeongin x witch!reader genre: modern fantasy, witch au. word count: 2.8k a/n: personally i'm in love with jeongin's vibe in this fic so pls tell me you get it or i'm srsly gonna combust

(this fic was originally posted on my insta @/cattoleeno /archived)

animagus; a witch who can transform into an animal at will while retaining their human mind. instead of hereditary, it's a skill that could be learned.

You didn’t hear the front door slamming shut and only realised your brother’s arrival from the hasty footsteps coming up the stairs.

It was the weekend. Your parents had taken a week off work to take a short Europe trip for their anniversary. So you didn’t see why Jisung had decided to come home instead of staying the night at his boyfriend’s house like he usually would when your parents weren’t home, no matter their forewarnings.

“No partying, no sleepover, no alchemy and spellcasting after eleven, be home before ten. Got it?” Your parents had said at the door in the morning of their departure, just the day before. Both you and Jisung had pulled up the widest and politest and most obedient smile. Before the door had been fully closed, your mother peeked in with a stern look, “and no visits from your boyfriends after 9, kids. Get it?”

Being one of the few witch families living amongst normies, your parents were a little too paranoid, which wasn’t at all irrational considering how most normies were hostile towards witches with their traditionalistic belief that witches were dreadful folks. While you and Jisung would mostly comply with your parents’ commands, one of the many things you both had trouble fulfilling was that related to your respective boyfriend. Well, what could you both do when it was both your and Jisung’s first experience of having a romantic partner?

Anyway, whatever the reason for Jisung’s returning (for example, fighting with his boyfriend), you hoped he wouldn’t bother you. There was so much in your head already, you didn’t need any of his whinings to add up to your nasty Saturday night.

You slumped down in your chair and increased the volume. Paramore’s Brick by Boring Brick blasted over your headphones as you mindlessly scrolled through the queue of unread apologies and pleadings from your boyfriend on the notification bar. His texts and missed calls had stopped sometime an hour ago. You scoffed.

But then Jisung’s high pitch whines managed to beat out the ponderous rhythm of the pop punk song, sneakily slinking into the tight gap of your headphones.

Whirling in the chair, you finally gave your brother attention with a slight raise of an eyebrow and a very annoyed “what?!”

Jisung was standing at your bedroom door with a toothy grin. But your eyes fell to the thing that perched in his arms.

You maintained a phlegmatic countenance to keep any hints of surprise out of sight, you slid the headphones down to rest over the back of your neck and put your phone down on the computer desk. “Where’d you get it?”

Jisung pet the white furball in his arms fondly. “Cute, right?”

A fennec fox. Only its fur was more white than most of its own kind. Even its bushy tail was pure white. No black tips. Not anything. Like a ball of cloud in your brother’s comfortable embrace.

“He appeared out of nowhere on the sidewalk. I was only petting him and was going to leave him there in case he belonged to anyone, but he followed me around.” Jisung sat on the edge of your bed. The fox looked up at your brother with its big, dark eyes, pleased at the incessant strokes on his fluffy head and gigantic ears.

The fox stared at you then, and you stared back. Glared.

“Felix offered to keep him but his ferrets bullied him.” Added Jisung, unaware of the staring contest between you and the creature.

The fennec fox was a little bigger in size than a fully grown ferret. But Felix had eight of them, some of which were hyperactive and liked playing too much. You remembered the day you paid a visit and four of the ferrets swarmed your legs any time you passed by their periphery and only stopped when you pet their heads. But once a lizard found a way into the kitchen window, those ferrets straight up invaded its personal space… and not in a nice way.

Bullying would be a nice way to put it. While they liked to play with humans, those gremlins were keen on torturing other animals no matter the size. If Felix didn’t keep their murderous intention at bay with his enchantment, his backyard would be a mountain of the wildlife remains.

“You should’ve let the ferrets prey on him.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in horror, “why would I?!”

“It’s ugly and it looks evil.”

Jisung gasped and he put both palms over the fennec’s ears as if it would prevent the creature from hearing your insult. “Who are you calling ugly? Look at this innocent face! So adorable and benign!” His eyes sparkled and lips quirked downwards as he looked at you defensively.

You rolled your eyes at the fox, “looks ghastly to me.”

“Why are you so irked today? Got dumped by Jeongin or what?”

You shrugged, “he’s an asshole.”

“Want me to murder him?”

The fox didn’t make any visible changes on his face but somehow you could see panic in the way he looked up at Jisung. You held back a laugh, “It doesn’t get to that point yet. But I’ll let you know once it does.”

Feeling the fox slowly slinked away from his arms, Jisung brought him closer to his chest again and caressed his head in compassionate strokes. “Anyway what d’you think mom and dad would say about this? Do you think they’d allow me to keep him?”

You spun the chair around, “I’ll make sure they throw him out the window.”

“You’re evil.” Jisung grimaced, pulling the fennec into a tight embrace and brushing his own cheek against the creature, “don’t listen to her, little munchkin,” he spoke in a baby voice, “from today onwards I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You could barely hold back a mocking laugh. You put the headphones back on, blasting your eardrums with your playlist once again.

At least it meant Jisung would leave you alone and wouldn’t dare leaving the fennec fox too close to you. Better yet, keeping the creature strictly in his room.

Fifteen songs later, you finally let your ears rest. Your brother was no longer on your bed and he was nice enough to close the door. When you peeked into the dark corridor, his door was only slightly cracked open. The sound of his soft snores was audible in the otherwise silent night. No signs of the fennec fox.

You locked your door and stood there whispering a couple of charms to keep away any sort of creature; humans and animals from trying to get inside.

You plopped into the bed with a book in hand. Your knees were bent as a makeshift support for the book and you began to get engrossed in the plot.

You tried.

Because you barely read a page when the door to your bedroom was attempted to be opened. But it was both manually and magically locked. You paid it no mind and tried reading your book again, when this time it was hushed whispers at the door drawing your focus away. The sort of whispers like spells and stuff. You sighed.

When the whispers stopped, through your peripheral the door was slowly pushed open just enough for a tall silhouette to slip inside before it shrunk back into a small bundle of cloud that darted across the room towards your bed.

Apparently his charmwork was much more advanced than yours. But what was the surprise when he had successfully mastered Animagus transformation at the age of 10 when most Animagi you knew had only started transforming at the legal age?

The white fennec fox hopped onto the mattress and slithered beneath the sheets.

“Get out.” You hissed without looking away from your book, “or I’ll throw you out the window and you know I mean it.”

The small bulge under the sheets was growing in size.

“We both know you didn’t mean that,” a human head emerged from under the sheets. His white hair tickled your thighs as he swept himself closer to you. His fox eyes stared up at your face so attentively from below as if begging to be forgiven, before a wicked smirk and a soft caress of his fingers on your thigh followed, “besides, you wouldn’t be able to carry me all the way to the window in this form. I can easily manhandle you in—”

His words were cut off by an unforeseen smack of a book cover on his head. “Ouch! Alright! Alright! I’m sorry!”

Even in pain, Jeongin still laughed. He wasn’t trying to stop you from hitting him as he was taking every single smack like he deserved it. And he did.

“You sly fox! Asshole!” Venom dripped in your tone when you finally put the book down. Wrath burned in the way your irises pierced through his wide grin. The audacity. “I waited for hours! You stood me up and used Jisung to get to me!” A punch on his shoulder. “Fuck you!” Another punch on his shoulder.

Before another one, Jeongin held your wrist and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m sorry. It’s the only way I could think of ‘cause I know you wouldn’t have let me in if I showed up at your door.”

“Indeed, and that’s why I locked my door and yet here you are.”

Jeongin winced in guilt. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand softly, “love, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to ditch our date,” he bit his lower lip but you could make out the slight quirk of the corner of his lips like he was holding back a smile, and you almost threw another punch across his shoulder until he took a deep breath for an explanation, “I was kidnapped.”

Silence.

“What?!”

“It’s not like what you’re thinking.”

You huffed, “of course it’s indeed what I’m thinking! I’m a hundred percent sure you were kidnapped when you were transformed otherwise you wouldn’t have tried to repress that stupid smile of yours. So, was it a kid?”

That stupid smile of his wasn’t repressed this time. He grinned. So wide.

“And you were kept inside a locked room? Like his room? Or even a cage?”

Jeongin giggled, “a bird cage. I could barely move.”

“And so you could’ve easily unlocked it.”

“I could’ve,” he giggled again, “but he kept his eyes on me all the time and all the time he watched me he talked about the last days he spent his school hour wandering the town with his bike without telling his parents. My muscles were stiff and my eardrums were bleeding, and that was when his mother called him for dinner. The worst part was his mother saw me in that bird cage and all she said was he’s a brave kid.”

You were grinning now, amused by the story telling.

“So, I didn’t intend to ditch our date.” Jeongin concluded, “though I must say it was stupid of me to wander around in daylight in my fox form.”

“Very stupid, yep. But oh, poor you,” you said mockingly, your hand carding through his silky hair and smothered down to stroke his ears and shoulders, “want me to massage your shoulders? And your back?”

Stripping off his shirt, Jeongin laid in bed on his stomach and you climbed up to sit on his bum, palms softly rubbing over the smooth skin of his back. You kneaded with your thumbs with a little more pressure that forced out pleased whimpers from your boyfriend.

“Too hard?”

He mumbled against the pillow, “nice. Enough. Really good.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed too fast and got mad too quick. Had I picked up your call and replied to your texts you wouldn’t have to get through another trouble following Jisung around just to get here.”

His shoulders weren’t as tight as the first time you kneaded the flesh there. Jeongin propped a little bit of his weight with his elbows enough to let him speak comfortably without getting his words muffled by the pillow. “No, I understand it must be upsetting to you, having to wait for hours without a word from me. I did think of the consequences of getting caught but I thought escaping would be a piece of cake. See? It was my fault. But I surely would appreciate it if you’d listen to my explanation first should something like this ever happen again—though, I hope never.”

You leaned down, kissing his bare neck and shoulder and giggling, “and thank god you were kidnapped by some kid instead of sleeping away and forgetting your promise. T’was funny.”

He flipped, making you fall to the mattress next to him. Pulling you by the waist, your faces were only an inch away that you had to tilt your head back a little to get a better look at his smiley face. “Thank God you find it funny.”

“Yes, but I still want that full-day date.”

Jeongin kissed the tip of your nose in response.

“Make sure you don’t transform on the day.” You added.

He planted another kiss, “promise.”

Jeongin wasn’t planning on going back home that night anyway. For the next hour it was well spent with you both making out, talking, making out again a little wildly that when his hands roamed on spots that made you accidentally moaned you had to stop for a moment to make sure Jisung was still asleep, and more and more kisses until you decided you wanted to wash up before turning in.

🌙🌙🌙

The morning sunlight bathing through the kitchen windows was a mockery to the tears streaming down your brother’s face. His swollen eyes and red face were proof of his totally wrecked heart. Jisung had even called Felix, who had sounded dazed at the situation as Jisung’s ramblings were absolutely incoherent paired with his sniffles, Felix had no idea what was going on even after Jisung ended the call.

You sat on the chair next to your weeping brother, a hand rubbing on his back and lips sealed tight into a thin line, holding back any other emotion that wasn’t empathy. You wanted to laugh.

Across from you, topless Jeongin had his back leaned against the kitchen island with his arms folded over his chest, an amused grin across his face. His shirt was still abandoned somewhere in your room. You didn’t mind. He looked drop-dead gorgeous— OK, this wasn’t the time to admire your boyfriend’s upper half while your brother was bawling his eyes out.

“I swear I shut the windows!” Jisung cried, staring at the boring surface of the wooden table with so much pain in his teary, swollen eyes. “He couldn’t have been able to slide the windows open and jump out and run off!”

“Hey, look at the positive side. You don’t have to argue with mom and dad about whether or not you could keep a wild creature.” You tried to comfort, really, but it invited yet another stream of teardrops out of your brother’s already swollen eyes.

Jeongin walked over and stood behind you, arms wrapped around your neck. He slightly bent down and burrowed his face on the crown of your head that smelled strongly of your shampoo. The fragrant brought him back to early that morning when you both were in the shower, skin to skin, nearly doing a naughty little something, when Jisung banged the bathroom door, wailing and whimpering, “he’s gone! The windows are open! He’s gone! My fox is gone!”

Still dripping wet, you threw Jeongin his boxer shorts and wore a bathrobe yourself. Your brother had been so deep in the misery of losing his newly found exotic fennec fox that he hadn’t minded the red marks all over your neck and hadn’t questioned Jeongin’s presence as soon as you opened the bathroom door.

The tears on Jisung’s face made Jeongin feel bad and want to laugh at the same time.

Jeongin sneaked a kiss on one of the red marks on your neck and ruffled your brother’s hair fondly as he walked away.

“What makes you think he couldn’t have opened the door and walked out normally instead of throwing himself out the window?”

Jisung’s tears were forced to halt at the strange idea. He stared at Jeongin’s back as the latter nonchalantly ambled towards the fridge for a quick breakfast.

“What do you mean by that?” Jisung inquired in between sniffs.

Jeongin swirled around, catching the view of your teeth sinking deep into your bottom lip indicating how hard you were trying not to smile. 

Jeongin shrugged and grinned at your brother with a carton of milk in one hand and a leftover cake in the other, “he could be an animagus, who knows.”

[cattolino]

push me further, pull me closer.

pairing: chan x f reader warnings: profanities, fwb, bad at feelings, unprotected intercourse (wrap before you tap!), idol au, idol chan x makeup artist reader genre: explicit smut word count: 3.9k a/n: i didn't usually write idol au so writing this turned out to be a challenging experience for me (mainly bc i was kinda scared they're not giving idols vibes lmao) but it was fun nonetheless!! this was based off of a request i got on my insta but aside from that, i was also heavily inspired by skz's I Like It and that one vid of chan lifting 160 kg bar.... heheheh....

(this fic was originally posted on my insta @cattoleeno)

“He’s been talking about you.”

Felix’s eventual grin was a triumph of his prowess on seeing past your silence that you thought was a sufficient attempt at keeping your emotions from surfacing beyond your pounding heart. But in his defense, he had not referred to anyone in particular and yet you didn’t bother to ask who he was talking about, as if there wasn’t anyone else who would be talking about you.

Sometimes silence tells more than words ever will, Felix thought. That, or he could easily hear your heart thumping uncharacteristically fast within your ribcage in the quiet of the dressing room.

“He’s bulking and been trying lifting weights these days,” he added, eyes slid close as you brushed the last layer of a dark eyeshadow on his lids. “I wonder where the drive comes from, even he got Changbin a little intimidated but, phew, you gotta see his arms.”

You knew what he was doing. The boy always makes a big fuss of the simplest occurrences he stumbles upon while you’re doing his makeup. Oftentimes it would lead you to share your own predicaments you haven’t even told your closest ones yet, and he was always so giddy to be the first one to know. One time he tagged you on a post of himself and you posing weirdly in the mirror with a caption, yapping buddy.

But unlike the usual where you would actively comment on his chitchat show, you were not speaking this time apart from occasional hums and nods. Your lips were sealed shut. Your hands kept working.

Upon realising he wouldn’t acquire the information through a slip of tongue, his frustration then revealed itself in the form of a long sigh in surrender. “Chan missed you.”

You almost snorted, and for the first time since Felix had arrived to get his makeup done, you decided to entertain him. You bent down and stroked the brush where his lids needed the last touch of glitters. “You’re his owl now?”

“No,” he admitted, “he didn’t ask me to tell you anything but he wouldn’t stop talking about you my ears would actually be bleeding in the long run,” he glanced at the door through the the mirror where a staff had trotted in with a heap of navy robes in arms, so thick that only half her face was visible. His tone went lower at the additional presence in the room, barely a whisper, “you’ve yet to write nor call him back. What’s up?”

The staff put down the robes on the couch in the corner alongside a neat pile of blankets prepared for when the members needed a nap. She flashed you a smile before pressing her phone against her ear and speaking to someone on the other end of the line.

You leaned back to inspect Felix’s face, making sure the eye makeup was symmetrical. “We are not a couple and I’m not obliged to contact him back, that’s what’s up.”

Felix frowned, “yet.”

Maybe you had to be a little daring with the label; fuck buddies, friends with benefits, stress relievers, all that but a mere ‘not a couple’ because Felix always seemed to think that whatever you had with Chan now was solely a phase before an actual relationship. But shit, fuck buddies sounded bitter in your head, and it wouldn’t taste any sweeter on your tongue.

Your laugh was sour, “I’m not crossing the line.”

Felix’s lips twitched, ready for a confrontation but… speak of the devil.

The dressing room was suddenly boisterous with more staff and the other members swarming in. Sparkly, monochromatic garments that were priorly organised on the rolling racks were taken away into a bigger dressing room next door by the stylists, your makeup assistant sat some of the members down at the vanity and started working on them, while some other staff were busy moving things here and there to make room for a makeshift, temporary snack table.

Seungmin said something to Changbin that made the older put him in a headlock before they both were dragged away for makeup. Jisung was showing Minho a newly released anime. Hyunjin was playing with Jeongin’s hair while a stylist was trying to adjust a silver necklace around the taller’s neck.

And the last one to step inside as usual, was Chan.

The last member to be dolled up would usually make the most of the extra time to nap but Chan, ever so sleep deprived, was already slipped into his stage outfit.

Givenchy had sent their latest fall-winter collection exclusively for him. The stylist had picked out a dark, puffy top for the first performance which they forthwith altered, cutting the sleeves off to conveniently emphasise his well-built upper half particularly his arms that seemed to to have gotten a lot more muscular than you’d remembered. Paired with his newly dyed jet black hair, it was hard not to look.

A stylist assigned to the leader was on her knees when you sneaked a glance through the mirror. She was tucking the hem of his black cargo pants into the ankle of his Rombaut high boot, a black leather band dangling around one of her wrists.

Felix furtively nudged your hip with an elbow to swerve your attention back to him, face contorted into a restrained sneer at your umpteenth attempt at having a glimpse of his leader’s figure through the mirror. He mouthed, “told you.”

He was talking specifically about the arms. It was embarrassing that you so quickly caught up on that.

Against your better judgement, you took another glance in the mirror and were met with a curious gaze and a dimpled smile. Your walls wobbled for a moment just like they always would at the sight of that smile. But you nailed your feet into the ground and held your walls steady until it was silent and they stood solid again.

You looked away and bent down to embellish Felix’s freckles with strews of sparkles.

If you listened closely maybe you’d hear a long, disappointed sigh in the air.

After fixing the final sweeps of a nude gloss on Felix’s cupid bow, there came Seungmin and Jeongin who filled you in with all the horror stories from the old dance practice room. Most of which you had already heard from Felix who was an absolute coward when it comes to ghosts. You listened intently and laughed with them regardless, ignoring the way a particular pair of dark brown eyes steadily observing nearby.

But after all the youngers tailed behind their manager to a dressing room next door where everyone else had gathered to put their outfits on, it was suddenly so quiet. You didn’t realise almost all of the staff except one had left to make ready for the show one last time before the arena’s doors were finally allowed to open.

Too quiet. Except for a muffled commotion coming from the adjacent room, mostly Jisung who was arguing with someone again, Minho’s siren warm up ritual, and Hyunjin’s head-splitting giggles at something Changbin might be doing to him.

You pivoted around the vanity to arrange the palette for the last person on your list, and you could feel his gaze secured on you.

“Here, let me,” Chan politely offered a hand to take the arm band from the stylist when she was adjusting its length, “I think the others will appreciate an extra hand next door.”

Glancing at her watch, she easily agreed and scuttled away.

Chan scanned out the corridor, greeting a staff member on her way to the room at the end of the hallway, before gently closing the door when there was no longer anyone around.

You didn’t miss the sound of the door locking.

There were barely any exchanges the entire time he was sitting at the vanity while you were working on his makeup. His hands, however, had a hard time keeping still as they were roaming around, stroking playful caresses across your thighs and skimming further up beneath your skirt where they kneaded the soft globes of your ass.

“You were staring.”

“Hm?”

Chan repeated, “you were staring when I came in.”

“I was,” you admitted, “like I was looking at everyone else when they came in.”

“Mm, yeah?” He severed his back from the seat, lips barely brushing against your earlobe. You had just swept a pop of colour on his cheeks but you were the one who got red on the face. Unfair. He nipped at your earlobe, “did you look away when they stared back?”

A couple more brushes on his cheeks outwards to blend the blush. You tried to ignore the way his plump lips persistently kissed the side of your neck with a dry chuckle, “would’ve looked like a creep if I didn’t.”

“I missed you,” Chan leaned back in his chair again, the smile never left his face. “You were awfully quiet.” The lack of mere hello’s when you had seemed to be pretty comfortable talking to the rest of the members but him, he meant.

Your palm was on his shoulder as a small brush swept its way across his eyebrow, trying your best to keep it gentle despite the abrupt snap somewhere in your chest. The first remark felt way different on his tongue than them on Felix’s.

You snorted playfully, “well it’s not appropriate to scream, is it?”

A pair of crooked dents on his cheeks came into view as he grinned cunningly at a memory flashing in his head, “you did when we messed around the last time at—”

A slap on his chest. Hard. But he giggled at the embarrassment dispersing across your cheeks in red. Your eyes widened at him and lips jutted out in a disapproved look, momentarily gazing up at the closed door. A group of people had just walked by by the sounds of their hasty treads outside.

Chan peered up at you, hands kneading your ass again, “we almost got caught the last time ‘cause you didn’t have my fingers in your mouth to tone down your beautiful moans. I made you feel so good you couldn’t—”

A stinging slap on his shoulder. He winced in pain this time, although the stupidly sweet grin was unwaveringly plastered on his face. You couldn’t be more annoyed.

“Might consider moaning your full name for everyone to hear next time.”

It was an empty threat and you both knew that. You wouldn’t possibly be so stupid to risk your job only to wipe that wicked smile off of his face, no.

His hand slipped further south, pulling you by the thigh to stand closer between his legs. “So you do want a next time.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff but he stroked the back of your thigh almost too fondly you could’ve melted if you hadn’t been there for work. He grinned, “I’ll be all ears though.”

You carried on with your work, ignoring the heightening heat in your abdomen that came with his playful teasing and touchy hands. But it didn’t help that he also looked insanely attractive in the fit.

You definitely had issues. Because it was probably the hundredth time the stylists had picked out sleeveless top for his stage outfit, and you had certainly seen so much more than his bare arms, yet it still affected you like it was the first time.

As if sensing that you were almost done once you placed the eyeshadow palette back onto the dresser, he pulled you back to sit on his lap, burying his face on your chest. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you.”

Your hands found their place on his head to play with his hair. Sometimes you wanted to ask why he almost never wore his natural curls on the stage. You liked his curls. A little too much, even. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

His words were a little muffled against your shirt, maybe his makeup would stain, “I locked the door.”

“I noticed,” you cackled, tearing yourself away from him and beginning to organise your stuff back into their respective cases. “But if you missed my ass and cunt you’ll need to wait ‘till we get back to your dorm. We’re not gonna ruin your makeup.”

Chan winced at your words. At the first few words, specifically.

He didn’t say anything but his hands once again found you.

Apparently Felix hadn’t been joking when he said Chan was into lifting weights as of lately, but the effortless cradle of his arms beneath your ass as he hauled you up onto the dresser still had you gasp in surprise. You almost forgot about the leather arm band he had taken from his stylist earlier, until it was dangling precariously in between his thumb and forefinger right before your face.

“Will you do the honours?”

With a raised brow you took the accessory and pulled his left arm closer, “you just need an excuse for me to touch you.”

He grinned, “mm, you caught me.”

The whole time you were adjusting the arm band around his bicep in silence, the whole time he was studying your face in silence. Without looking up, you scoffed, “now you’re the one staring.”

He hummed, “it’s hard not to when you’re so pretty.”

Your nose scrunched, unimpressed. You made the grip of the arm band slightly tighter than it should be but if Chan felt pain, it was only a miniscule compared to an abrupt nudge of your palm against the bulge in his pants he wasn’t even aware of. “I’m only pretty when you need a stress reliever,” you chuckled, back flush against the mirror and eyes affixed to his own, “so tell me what I can do to make you feel better without ruining your makeup. I’m not redoing that.”

Chan sighed. Every ounce of mischief that had gleamed in his face melted away along with his playful grin. Words at the tip of his tongue, but all that was let out was another sigh.

You weren’t left waiting for too long. His lips found their place on your neck as he ground his crotch against your clothed cunt. His growing bulge fondled where you felt most sensitive, and from how wet your panties already were, he knew he wasn’t the only one getting aroused in the room.

“You can make me feel good, yeah,” he sighed, detaching his face from your neck and rolling your skirt further up, “just stay still and look pretty, I’ll do the work.”

It sent the butterflies in your stomach going haywire more than you would ever want to admit, so you kept a straight face and pulled him close as he unbuckled his belt. You hoped the dresser was sturdy enough to provide not only your weight but a bit of extra pressure in the near future.

“Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”

The desperation that reflected through the immediate nodding even before he finished his sentence would have definitely gotten you in an endless circle of teasing if he weren’t just as desperate. Instead, “fuck,” he grunted, lips seeking for a certain spot below your ear he knew so much would send you otherworldly bliss. All while his fingers tugged at your wet panties to the side as he blindly guided his length to align with your awaiting entrance.

He wanted to keep sucking at your weak spot to distract you from the imminent pain that came with penetration, but it felt too good for him too that he eventually peeled his mouth away from your neck and rested his forehead on your shoulder with ragged breaths. “You feel so fucking perfect. So pretty and perfect.”

It was slow for the first few thrusts, hands roaming around to feel the other’s body, occasional kisses along the skin of the other’s neck, but never close enough to where your lips were. I missed you too, you wanted to tell him, but words of affirmation and feelings and emotions were only reserved for a committed relationship. Which you both lacked.

“Haven’t worked out in two days.” Chan grunted in between thrusts that gradually increased in pace.

What you didn’t expect was being lifted up off of the dresser, forcing your arms to involuntarily wrap around his neck and hold on.

The next thing you knew, a cold wall was pressed against your back and how deep his length was buried inside you in that position. You mewled when he started to pound into you again, face buried in your neck, planting marks all over the skin down your collarbone.

He spread your thighs further apart, nailing you onto the wall. The hands on your thighs smothered down to your ass again, gripping the plump flesh so hard you were sure there would be bruises the next morning.

He pulled away, lustful eyes burrowing into yours.

Your hooded eyes struggled to keep open, devouring the hypnotising sight of Chan fervid on relieving his needs. The sleeveless vest earned you a sinful view of the muscles and veins bulging along the surface of his biceps as his arms held you up. The leather band around one of his upper arms taunted you with its tight grip that made the bulges of his muscles all the more prominent. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face before they dripped onto your thighs. He was godly.

How could you trade your feelings for such a beautiful, unholy sight…

“Keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He thrusted particularly hard that knocked a whimper out of your throat, grinning, “like you’d devour me clean.”

Your chuckles came out breathlessly, “but I am devouring you.”

Another hard thrust drew a louder whimper out of you, and your nails dug into his shoulders. The sound of people walking back and forth outside the room was cue enough to bite back your moans, and when he found a spot that made you see stars and unintendedly moan, your palm slapped against your mouth for assistance.

Chan wasn’t too happy with your muffled whines. With only one hand and his hips pinning you up against the wall, his other hand pulled your hand off of your mouth, replacing it with his lips instead in a fervent kiss.

“Thought you said you wanna moan my full name for everyone to hear? Didn’t I say I’ll be all ears?”

“Fuck you.” But it sounded much gentler than you had intended to. “I’m not losing my job.”

You gasped at a particular sharp thrust, glaring at his triumphant grin. But then cold sweat ran down the back of your neck when you heard footsteps just at the other side of the door. The room wasn’t soundproof in the first place, but the way you could hear the footsteps so clearly made you all the more alarmed.

Chan on the other hand didn’t seem bothered and kept going.

“Chan… slow down…” you whined, chest painful from having to hold back the screams at the blazing strokes of his cock against your walls.

He slowed the pace, nose brushing against yours, “did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, panting, then settled your forehead down onto his shoulder.

Chan didn’t waste any more time and sped up again, catching you off guard. You let out an obscene cry in surprise, followed by a chain of moans at the pleasure as he was rolling his hips to get his cock hit every spot.

You were too lost, teeth dug into his shoulder, body limp and pliant, cheeks burning, ass stinging. You let him give you everything there was to offer to get you to your high.

Your legs trembled intensely when it happened, chest heaved and teeth left marks all over his shoulder that led to his own peak as well. He moaned in your ear when he finally released.

If Chan had been patient enough to wait until the event was over and he could sneak you into his dorm, you would’ve loved to stay in his arms a little longer after such an intense session. Unfortunately he loved risks.

“Get me down.” You demanded.

And he did as asked, although his protective hands still lingered around your waist knowing that your legs would most likely give out the moment your feet touched the ground. He wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t refuse either. You clung onto him as he sat you down on the sofa and began to clean you up.

When he looked up, you instantly frowned. His face twisted in concern, “what’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere?”

You huffed, “you ruined your makeup.”

There wasn’t much to fix but a stain of lipstick whose shade didn’t match the one on his lips smudged messily around his mouth. Red and swollen, it almost looked like his lips were stung.

He was visibly relieved at your comment, however. “We still have time.”

Then, as he looked down at where his hand was mindlessly rubbing circles on your thigh, he mumbled, “you’re always pretty.”

“Hm?”

“You’re always pretty,” he repeated, looking up at you, “you’re not just a stress reliever if that was what you thought you were to me. You’re not only pretty when I need you like that, no.”

“No,” you hummed in agreement, “I’m a friend, too, and definitely your makeup artist.”

Chan wasn’t amused. “You know what I mean.”

You snickered, “you were the one suggesting to keep it casual, Chan.” The words hung in the air for a while before you added, “and I don’t mind. I like it this way.”

Maybe there was so little truth in what you had admitted but eventually you realised there was no harm in not putting any romantic labels to your relationship as he had suggested beforehand. It wasn’t like he would be able to reserve his attention on you if you were to end up romantically given his line of work that compelled him to allocate his focus on so many things at once. You weren’t sure if you could get used to being pushed back into the last on his list all the time so you thought, being romantically involved with him would have just wounded you and him more than if you pushed your feelings down.

The less your feelings get involved, the less you’d get your heart broken.

Chan stayed silent for a moment. Thoughts swam in the depth of his irises as they bored into yours. Then, “alright. We’ll keep it this way.”

He flinched at the gentle knocks on the door. How ironic that he was more affected at being caught when there was nothing to see in the room, but had been awfully confident when your moans were straight immoral. You giggled.

A familiar deep voice made through the thin board of the door. It was so clear that you could imagine Felix pressing his lips against the door to speak. “If you horny imbeciles are done, better get out now before the others realise you’ve been gone too long. And you’re expected for technical equipment check in like five minutes, Bang Chan, chop chop.”

Chan rose to his feet and offered you a hand. A smile slowly tugged at his lips, crooked and hesitant, “come, love, you kinda have to patch up my makeup.”

[cattolino]

slow fade.

pairing: bang chan x reader. warnings: infidelity. genre: angst. word count: 980

(this fic has been crossposted on my insta @cattoleeno)

The road was sombre under the whirls of grey clouds. The sporadic drizzle was intense enough to keep the heads of pedestrians hidden beneath their umbrella as they trotted on the pavement. Droplets raced down the windshield in a chain of cascades. Fog rolled over, stretching its arms around the dismal atmosphere in its chilled embrace.

But everything became a blur when your eyes caught the familiar sight of your sweet, dimpled boy sitting in the book cafe by the window. You momentarily wondered if Chan had subconsciously plopped down in your favourite seat as if it was born of muscle memory.

Chan had brought you there for the first time three years ago on the second date.

You vividly remembered how he’d brought over a stack of his own personal favourite fictions to the table. You vividly remembered the contented grin on his face as he listened to your distaste towards the protagonist’s lack of self respect in a babbling mess. You vividly remembered how he’d resisted to let go of your hand as you both talked, jumping from one topic to another completely different subject until the dreary tone of night had morphed slowly into more welcoming shades of pale blue. You vividly remembered how you both had walked home hand in hand that early morning.

Every single minor detail about that night was carven in the recollection segment reserved and coded especially for your precious ones.

But it seemed like it no longer had a room in his memory.

Chan had his elbows easing up on the edge of the table while his chin propped on both palms as he was speaking. A pile of novels and two cups of tea were set aside.

Across the table was a woman.

The same woman Chan had introduced when you’d walked in on them chatting in his studio during lunch break three months prior. The same woman who’d triggered the first and most terrible argument in the history of your three-year relationship two months prior. And the same woman Chan had told you not to worry about.

The woman took a sip from her cup and leaned forward, mirroring Chan’s posture.

Her perfect pouty, red lips turned up into a teasing smile as she was telling something that made him laugh so hard his little dimples came into view and his eyes turned into a pair of the prettiest crescents.

Chan looked so happy.

You used to make him laugh like that, too.

“We were just talking about work.” He had said that a month ago when you’d walked in on them in his studio. Again.

Eyes don’t tell lies, Chan.

You wished you had said that. Instead, you had smiled at them and left his lunch on the desk before walking out. You wished you were a little braver.

You looked away at the same time Chan stood up and offered his hand for the woman to hold before they headed towards the cafe entrance. You started the engine.

Four detours and the songs in the playlist Chan had made for you blasted alongside the constant sound of the rain beating against the windshield. You pulled over to a familiar neighbourhood where Chan’s studio was only a few blocks away.

The digital watch wrapped around your wrist read nine minutes past the time Chan was supposed to clock out of work. Four detours should be long enough to give him time walking all the way from the book cafe. Besides, the sidewalk would be a little less crowded in this weather.

Then the door opened.

Chan grunted as he was struggling to fold the wet umbrella and tuck it in the vacant space under his seat. The lovely little dimples you were beginning to long for were as usual, nowhere to be seen.

“Long day?” You started.

He nodded without sparing a glance. He fixed his hair and rubbed off the wet patches all over his jacket, before turning to you when he realised you hadn’t started the engine.

Hey, what’s wrong?

But it would be something only the old Chan would say.

And it was annoying how you could exactly guess what the present Chan would say instead. “What, are we not going?”

You pulled up the best smile you were confident to feign, looking away from him, “let’s just go home.”

You could feel his eyes on you.

“You’re tired. Our date can wait.”

As if it wouldn’t have been the first date in six months that you had been anticipating all way too eagerly in hope that it’d stitch the broken seams of your and his hearts back together.

“Okay.”

Oh.

Leaning towards the driver seat, Chan mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek. Even the cold in his heart had made its way to his lips.

When you were about to start the engine, Chan had already reclined back and had his eyes glued to the glum skies. Warmth slowly trickled down your cheek as you stared at the back of his head, having forgotten what his soft curls felt like beneath the soft caresses of your palm.

“Chan.” You called in a voice just above a whisper.

He looked back at you and hummed.

And there it was the dark brown irises that used to glimmer when he looked at you, now vacant and distant. Like a cold droplet carved razor-sharp at the end, it pierced right in the middle of your chest all the way through your back. As if a reminder that the last thread of hope you had been holding onto was lost long ago, at that moment when he had first let her take your seat in that book cafe you had thought was reserved just for you.

“I love you.” You said.

And he smiled, a dimple just barely appeared, “I know.”

[cattolino]

the morning after. — (maknae line)

pairing: maknae line x f reader. genre: suggestive to explicit, fluff.

(this fic has been crossposted on my insta @cattoleeno)

for hyung line; here. scenario: the following morning after your first intercourse with them.

Jisung.

The space was too small. You didn’t have room to move a hand and stretch your arms as preliminaries before the fog of dreamland completely dwindled into hotel walls. You quietly whined in complaint, trying to toss yourself around, only to be met with wet kisses on your nape.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, angel.”

That husky voice, that had groaned and moaned and whined gorgeously last night tickled your ears in the most pleasant way. And with that, everything suddenly made sense; from the weight around your body, the firm mattress, the weirdly clean scent on the sheets, to the wallpapered walls that felt too formal… you were not in your own bedroom, nor were you somewhere you had been before.

Jisung slackened the tightness of his arms around your chest, but pressed his face closer to yours, kissing the side of your face down to your neck at snail’s pace. When he got to your collarbone, to the part where striking red and purple scattered about, he couldn’t help but licked them all gently. You chuckled, hand tangled in his tresses.

“Sorry,” he propped himself with an elbow, looking down at you, “I can’t get my hands and lips off of you.”

“Do I taste that good?” You teased, hand brushing through his hair then slithering much, much lower to his chest that was as bruised as your own. The love bites were especially crowded around his tattoo. So pretty. He’d asked for them last night, begged, because he’d thought the hickeys around the ink would look erotic in the mirror. He hadn’t been wrong.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he giggled, nipping at your jaw. His breath fanned against your skin in silence for a moment, before, “would you stay the night at my place?”

“Can I?”

“I’d love it if you come with me and stay the night… or a couple nights, really. We can go back to your place first to grab your clothes if you want; or if you’re comfortable, my closet is yours.”

You hummed drowsily, “there’s still time to talk about that, can we just cuddle peacefully now?”

“About that…” Jisung squirmed, grabbing your hand to be then guided lower to the south beneath the sheets in between your bare bodies. When your hand touched a familiar shape, your eyes crinkled in amusement, albeit a little drowsy. “Can you… assist?”

“As long as I get to suck it.”

He emitted a ragged breath when your thumb pressed against the tip, smiling, “you’re such a dream.”

The hotel room filled with but unimpeded moans and the sound of your mouth diligently fondling his raging cock. Jisung placed a palm on your head, keeping you in rhythm, while the other fisted the sheets at the impending burst of pleasure you were soon giving him. And the sun had yet to rise.

Felix.

Felix hardly left you alone.

When you got out of bed to shower, he was pressed flush against your back while his head settled on your shoulder, drowsy voice asking why you couldn’t stay in bed longer. In the shower when he couldn’t stop his hands from roaming your body, you were already resigned to the idea of him taking advantage of the moment and starting yet another round of intimacy. And yet he was just caressing your skin, rubbing your back with soap, massaging your shoulders and scalp, until all there was left to do for you was stand relaxedly under the running water.

After the shower, he remained nearby. You did your skincare and helped him with his, all while his hands always had to land on you, as if afraid that you’d disappear if he didn’t physically feel you. It was endearing because your boyfriend normally yearned for physical connection at all costs, but it felt like it was getting so much more severe after your first lovemaking the night prior.

While his touches felt really nice, you were beginning to question what made him twice as clingy. So when you both sat on the bed where you were combing his dried hair, the question just flowed past your tongue in a playful fashion.

His canines were fully on display as he grinned so widely straight away at your question. His hand that was already on your waist, stroked tenderly, “I’m just so happy, that is all.” He grabbed the comb and snatched it off your hand, just to pepper kisses all over your palm and knuckle, “I’m so happy and grateful that you trusted me.”

Sometimes you’d forgotten that Felix wasn’t very articulate when it came to communicating his feelings, and that he would prefer physical contact as a way of telling you. But that simple remark he had so casually said stirred something in your stomach, pulling the corner of your lips downwards into a visible frown. “Of course I trust you.”

“It’s a big deal… isn’t it? Having sex with me?” He bit his lip, “it’s not just another embellishment in our relationship. It means you trust me to see and feel your fragility. It wasn’t just sex for me. I’m just— I’m so happy to get to do it with you.” He lowered his gaze to where he rubbed a thumb over the back of your hand. From that angle, the tinge of red that bursted across his freckled cheeks were even more apparent.

“It wasn’t just sex for me either, but be honest with me—” that made him look up, his face almost unreadable except for the natural blush, “—you’re just now reminiscing about last night, aren’t you?”

Felix grinned, easily. “I can’t get it off my head.”

Your eyes rolled in amusement. When you scooted away, he almost thought it was a rejection of what he was going to propose, but then your hands gripped the waistband of your sweatpants and slid them down. An invitation.

Seungmin.

The hot water flowing from the shower was almost scalding against your skin even in the coldest morning. But you couldn’t be more relieved when the layers of sweat and cum and your own fluid, gross and sticky on your skin, were thoroughly rinsed away.

You ignored the dull pain between your legs and calmly stilled with your arms hugging your own waist, letting your body temperature adjust to the water’s. You sighed in content as you felt your sore muscles eased.

But your alone time was cut short when the door was pushed open.

Seungmin slipped off his boxer shorts, drowsily studying the silhouette of your body behind the fogged up glass panel, before sneaking into the shower stall. His warm arms encircled around you, gently pulling you into his chest.

He had his face sunk down in your nape, ignoring the hot water that was gradually soaking his dark tresses.

“Didn’t I tell you to wake me up if you need anything? I’d be more than glad to carry you everywhere.” He mumbled against your skin while one hand headed south, massaging a spot close to where you felt particularly sore. You shuddered at his touch. “Still hurt?”

“You fucked me like it’d be our last time,” you stated lightheartedly with a giggle.

“You felt too good.” He licked the sensitive spot under your ear and sucked it lightly to test the waters, “sorry I got carried away. What can I do to make up for it?”

“Are you seriously apologizing?” You laid your head more languidly on his shoulder, and he took it as a green light. “You were not the only one who had an amazing time last night.”

You felt his erection prod you right in between the buttcheeks, teasingly sliding back and forth, drawing sensual sighs out of your mouth. You thought you’d be embarrassed for being so desperate for his touches in spite of how utterly ruined you had been just a few hours prior, but then you arched your back and threw a hand back to clutch his hair, encouraging him to do more.

While his lips were preoccupied with leaving kisses and bites, one of his hands was busy caressing your clit and the other stroking the base of his length in preparation. You whined, a little impatient.

When the tip of his length slowly sank into your entrance, your body involuntarily quivered at the sting and pleasure that his girth was bringing upon you. Sensing this, Seungmin planted soft kisses along your neck while his hand kept rubbing your clit at a steady pace, lulling the pain away with more and more pleasure.

He quietly groaned in your neck as he sank completely, his cock warm in your velvety walls, “I’ll be gentle, but tell me if it gets too much to handle.”

You could only nod in response, already drowned in bliss his cock and fingers were giving you.

Jeongin.

A heap of pillows tucked around your slumbering figure. You nuzzled into the soft pillow case, almost dozing back to sleep.

Almost, because you took a deep breath in and realized it wasn’t your boyfriend’s baby powder scent you were inhaling, but a mild detergent fragrance. And it wasn’t his chest you were nuzzled into, but a big pillow that was almost as wide as his shoulders but so much softer than his pectoral muscles.

It wasn’t your first time staying over at his place so you were, more or less, becoming familiar with his routine. But you weren’t expecting that he would still abide by his time schedule even after the intense physical exercise the night prior that had continued until minutes before dawn. Minutes, you were not exaggerating.

You should’ve known better. Jeongin was Jeongin, and he would get stressed out for missing a task he’d planned.

You didn’t have to roam around his place to look for your boyfriend when you had his whole morning routine memorized. And 6 to 7 a.m. meant an armchair by the window in the living room and a mug of hot tea on a small coffee table right beside. Reading glasses sat on his nose, and that week’s book of choice situated on his lap.

And there he was, right where you supposed he would be. The Kite Runner had been read a quarter of the way, you scowled at the depressing choice of his morning reading.

In only an oversized shirt and panties, you were approaching in lazy steps. Jeongin gazed up briefly to offer you a smile, before looking back down to place a bookmark on the page he was reading.

“Good sleep?” He inquired, and he truly meant it. Because last night, the first ever intercourse with your boyfriend, had been quite passionate that your legs felt a bit wiggly even now. Jeongin noticed, his mischievous gaze wasn’t able to overpower his inborn sunny grin however.

“Would’ve been better if you woke me up and invited me to your reading corner.” You sulked.

He giggled at your pout, putting the book on the table to welcome you on his lap. “I’m inviting you now.”

You climbed on him, your head settled on his shoulder. “Read,” you said drowsily, “don’t mind my existence here. If I get too heavy… mm, deal with it.”

“I’ll deal with it alright, princess.” There was a deliberate emphasis on the pet name at the end, knowing that it had done something to you last night, more than a casual ‘baby’ could ever. He adjusted your position, sliding you lower, allowing your face to be properly burrowed in his neck, and most importantly to decrease the chances of your private parts to rub against the other. Jeongin caressed your back, “as long as you’re comfy.”

[cattolino]

the morning after. — (hyung line)

pairing: hyung line x f reader. genre: suggestive to explicit, fluff.

(this fic has been crossposted on my insta @cattoleeno)

for maknae line; here. scenario: the following morning after your first intercourse with them.

Chan.

The sheets felt soft and smelled fresh, indicating they were different ones from last night’s considering the fervid lovemakings that lasted until sopping traces of dried, filthy substances seeped into the bedding. Fervid, because both you and Chan had been too lost in the moment to even spare a little bit of time to close the curtains, and now the morning sunlight bathed your pillows in its warmth, pulling you slowly from dreamland.

Despite having been stone cold sober the night prior, the recollection of what had happened after the intercourse was vague. And it was all on Chan for having instigated a few more rounds after the first until your mind had been all but befogged with euphoria. The only thing you could remember in the fuzzy state was that he’d scooped you off the bed and carried you to the bathtub. Everything else was an outright blur.

However the clean sheets and clean clothes said enough of how well he’d treated you, leaving no room for complaints.

The bed quaked as Chan stirred behind you. His bare, solid chest flattened against your clothed back, his arm crept around your abdomen, and his face nestled into the back of your neck. The sound of his soft snoring followed soon after.

You reached down to intertwine your fingers with his, inadvertently rousing him from sleep once again.

“You awake?” His voice was a few octaves lower than his normal speaking voice which you found insanely attractive.

It wasn’t the first time you heard it. Sometimes he would call you early in the morning and you’d hear the exact same tone. But it was the first time you heard it while lying beside him—in his arms and in his bed, while he was shirtless, while his breathes fanned against your neck, while you just gained your consciousness, while you could still vividly remember from the time he’d discarded pieces of your clothes one by one the night prior. You thought you’d lose your mind.

You sighed, “mhm.”

“Hmm.. sleep more.” But his body betrayed his words. He tugged at the collar of your shirt—his shirt—a little to the side with a gentle nip of his teeth, allowing him more access to your bare shoulder. He draped a leg over your side and pulled your lower half towards his own. His thumb caressed the back of your hand as he left a trail of pecks along your shoulder.

It felt almost sweet, until he was grinding against you and you realized that his morning wood was incessantly poking your buttcheek. Occasional sighs escaped between your chuckles, “baby, you need help?”

Your question restored his bearings that had briefly slipped for a moment there.

“I’m sorry,” he snickered, realizing how sudden his arousal turned up after having just told you to come back to sleep, “don’t worry, it’ll go away by itself.”

And so you spent the rest of the morning in bed, only waking up when the sun was high. Specifically, when Chan started to kiss up your jaw and neck, nipping and sucking, way too passionate to be called innocent wake-up kisses.

Minho.

Waking up to an empty bed after an intimate night did nothing but ruin your mood.

You were wrapped warmly in a blanket that reeked of Minho, almost as if he was there with you. But your arms swept across the mattress in search of a sign of him only to be disappointed. Before your anxiety ascended at the thought of him leaving you all alone, a shuffling sound outside the bedroom alerted you of another presence.

As you made your way towards the door that was left partially open, you discovered traces of clothes and undergarments strewn across the floor. You looked down at yourself, fully clothed in cat print pajamas. You didn’t even realize. He must’ve dressed you after a bath last night.

An appetising smell of chicken stock pervaded the air when you stepped out of the bedroom. Minho was in front of the stove, back facing you. On contrary to your fully clothed body, he only sported black boxers that hugged his ass tightly, leaving the rest completely naked.

The back muscles moved like a wave as he was stirring something on the stovetop, probably a chicken stew or porridge. You couldn’t be too sure. What you could be sure of was the scratches across his bare back, some were shallow and the others were a little deeper. Courtesy of your nails digging and raking the previously smooth back the night before. Although it wasn’t entirely your fault since he’d made you cry and choke with utmost pleasure.

His neck was embellished with purple marks, making your hand subconsciously reach up to touch your own neck that was marked with just as many love bites.

You sneaked behind him, encircling your arms around his torso and squishing your cheek against his ruined back. He was unfazed at the sudden intrusion.

“How did you sleep?” He asked with one hand stroking the back of your hand while the other remained busy stirring the dish.

“You know I hate waking up alone,” you huffed, “I thought you left.”

He tittered at your complaints. He took half a spoonful of the chicken porridge he was making and tasted it, before turning off the stove. He loosened your arms and turned around to face you, walking you back until your ass was in contact with the island counter behind you.

Keeping his hands on your waist, he inspected you from head to toe with an impish smile, “in my defense, you looked so cute sleeping in my pajamas I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” he carded a hand through your hair and kissed your forehead, “you should stay the night more often.”

You relaxed in his hold, both palms running absentmindedly along his biceps, “and what, let you make me stay up all night again?”

“Oh, but you loved it?” His cute, crooked front teeth that were shown off as he grinned might be the reason why one of your hands pinched his cheek without thinking. He giggled at your impulsive move.

You nodded with a small laugh, “never said I didn’t.”

You were hot on his heels for the rest of his breakfast-prepping. You’d help him clean up and set the table, before following him around again, completely attached to him. And sometimes, he would pat your head, rub your back and kiss you here and there throughout.

And when it was time to sit down and eat, he insisted you sit on his lap.

Who are you to say no?

Changbin.

“Binnie, I’m trying to make breakfast.”

And it was repeated umpteenth time in case the man who was clinging to your back like a koala to a tree trunk thought the sunny side ups on the stovetop were for decorations.

The toasts had already been plated prettily on the counter with slices of ripe avocados, two cups of black tea weren’t as hot as you’d prefer but still warm enough to soothe your stomach. It was a simple breakfast for two reasons, one of them was it was easy to make and the second was because your boyfriend’s kitchen lacked a little bit of everything for any other filling breakfast menus.

It would take you less than half an hour to set everything ready on the table and have a slow morning to spend with Changbin, but the latter didn’t look and sound interested if the firmer grasp around your body and his whines were anything to go by. It was as if you were met with a completely different person from last night; who’d made you sob and writhed under the mercy of his harsh poundings.

“Let’s go back to bed…” there it was again, his petulant, complaining whine that discreetly had your heart trembled.

You hummed to swallow down the smile, unyielding in your stance, “and what?” You turned off the stove and turned around, putting the cooked eggs carefully atop of the sliced avocados so it wouldn’t slide down and ruin your plating. Changbin might not put all his weight on you and actually put an effort to drag himself around behind you, but his arms around your middle still restricted you to move more freely. “Once we’re in bed again we both know what will happen.”

“Your fault,” he huffed out a sigh. He didn’t have to fill you out why.

You were wearing the white dress shirt he’d worn last night with nothing underneath. So when he’d walked out the bedroom earlier, morning-kissed by an alluring view of your curves that were presented through the sheer materials, he thought it was only natural that he’d feel something tingly stir in his stomach.

“You look fucking amazing,” the low moan he breathed out against your neck was deliberate, “gorgeous.”

“Not that I haven’t worn your clothes before,” you tried to argue, affectionately.

“Not my dress shirt.”

It’d be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy his desperation to your unintentional seduction.

“Breakfast later,” he grumbled, one hand eventually giving in to its willpower and slipping beneath the hem of the dress shirt. The pad of his fingers massaged your inner thigh and rode up to press gently onto your swollen folds, “please?”

“But you need to leave in like—” you paused, dragging him along with you as you stepped into the living room where the clock was hung on the wall above the tv, “less than two hours.”

“That’s all I need.”

Feeling how your back was finally relaxed against him, Changbin walked you to the bedroom.

Breakfast could wait.

Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was sitting on the window nook with a sketchbook on his lap.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hands, and for a moment, his pencil stilled in the air an inch from the paper of his sketchbook as his eyes were locking on your figure. The corner of his lips tilted up at the sight of you struggling to prop your upper half on your elbows and of your face scrunched in annoyance to adjust to the morning sunlight.

“G’morning, princess.”

You blinked rapidly in an attempt to keep away the blur in your field of vision, slowly regaining your eyesight and seeing Hyunjin smiling at you. The outrageous morning sunlight didn’t seem outrageous anymore when it poured softly around his frame like a halo. You blinked again, trying to take in the full view of his naked upper half washed beneath the warm rays.

Dragging the comforter along, wrapping the thick blanket around your naked form, you climbed out the bed and limped your way towards him.

Lifting his sketchbook off of his thighs, he spread his legs wide to beckon you into sitting in his lap. The pillow that was situated between his back and the wall was squeezed up as you flumped down into the space between his legs, back pressing against his chest and head on his shoulder.

One of his palms smothered towards your inner thighs and gently massaged the area to soothe the soreness he’d caused the night before, all while pampering you with featherlike smooches along the surface of your exposed shoulder, making you giggle. He pecked your cheek and let his chin fall on your shoulder.

Placing his sketchbook down on your lap, he resumed the sketch where he’d left off.

“Did you sleep well?”

You nodded and yawned, slowly dozing off again in the comfort of his arms, “why are you up so early?”

“Would’ve slept more, but I felt like drawing.”

Your eyes fluttered open at his words, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight now that you were right next to the window. You looked down at his drawing in curiosity, slightly tilting your head.

Hyunjin put his pencil down once again to let you see the whole of his sketch. You blinked, your brows wrinkled, and your lips puckered into a small pout at the pencil lines on the cartridge paper.

Because the sleeping figure in his rough, unfinished sketch was you. And you lit up instantly.

“That’s me!” You chirped happily. There were countless sketches of you, some of which you had put up on your bedroom wall to gaze at his talent on daily, and some others were kept neatly in a file folder on your bookshelf. But every time, you were excited to see more.

It felt good to see yourself through his eyes.

Your fingers gently ran down the textured paper, simply amazed, “this is like, what, the fifth drawing of me sleeping? Specifically sleeping?” And it was only the second month of your relationship.

He laughed, shyly burrowing his face on your shoulder, “I hope this doesn’t come off creepy. But I love watching you sleep.”

[cattolino]

polar.

pairing: lee felix x f reader. genre: nevermore au, fluff, strangers to friends to implied lovers. word count: 1.8K

Main characters are adapted from Wednesday Addams (psychic) and Enid Sinclair (werewolf) from the TV series Wednesday.

(this fic has a minho x reader version on my insta @cattoleeno)

“You sure she’ll wear it?”

“She’d look so pretty in this colour!”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

March 14th meant White Day.

And White Day meant reciprocal gifts.

For the umpteenth time Felix peeked at the salmon-coloured knitted jumper folded neatly inside a bright yellow paper bag, its thin handles casting an indented red mark on the skin around his left wrist as the result of the length of time he’d been carrying it around the whole day.

Hyunjin usually found Felix’s flamboyant nature exciting given he shared similar qualities, but the siren was worried that day. His cerulean eyes dimmed down a little in a reflection of his concern.

All because her, the very person Felix was about to gift the vibrant jumper to, had a profound affection towards everything in grayscale, prone to dark, to the point that if one took a peek at her closet, they’d only see a bottomless abyss of a black hole. Maybe a small space for whites and greys. And Felix, on the contrary, wore everything but the dreary shades of black and white where it got to the point that if one took a peek at his closet, they’d only see rainbows and unicorns.

She was nearly unapproachable. Or she didn’t let herself appear approachable. The psychic had a disembodied stitched-together hand called Thing on her shoulder—that everyone thought was cool and terrifying at the same time—as a sort of pet, she was especially given a black and grey striped uniform instead of the standard violet that made her stand out, and she spoke deadpan humour that oftentimes drove away most people.

Meanwhile Felix loved to be approached. The tip of his platinum hair was highlighted pink and blue, his socks were always of bright colours, and his werewolf pointed nails were painted in pastels.

If their fashion preferences and general appearances couldn’t tell enough already, they were also the polar opposites in terms of personalities. She inclined towards a small group of friends and was appealed to macabre. While Felix favoured the company of many and loved sparkly, radiant things.

Hyunjin couldn’t entirely hold him down, regardless. Because even though Felix’s curiosity about her had already started since the first day he had been admitted to the boarding school where she had downright deadpanned his choice of colourful pullover, it had never grown past mere curiosity until a month prior, on Valentine’s day, when he’d seen her closely for the first time again in a long while.

Felix remembered that one February 14th so vividly.

How her black-and-grey school uniform made its premier appearance in his periphery. How the whole class had gone silent as she placed down a massive box of chocolate assortments on his desk. How her flat tone was music to his ears, “I don’t know what you like. Just eat them.” How the brief gaze of her mesmerizing, dark irises combusted fireworks in his chest. How the heavy treads of her black platform leather shoes as she strided outside were followed by strained titters from her peers in the hallway. How Thing that perched on her shoulder flirtatiously waved him goodbye seconds before the last strand of her hair disappeared in the hallway.

That day was the day Felix began to believe in love at first sight.

Hyunjin had been the inevitable victim of Felix’s unending wonderment about her cryptic presence ever since. The siren had had to deal with balls and balls of salmon pink yarn every time he paid the werewolf’s dorm a visit and watched him knitting endlessly. Hyunjin just hadn’t seen it coming that the jumper was meant to be given to her. In hindsight, Hyunjin would’ve taken part in sabotaging Felix’s craft, too anxious for the werewolf’s wellbeing should his hard work be outright rejected and should it break his heart.

After all she was allergic to colours. And Felix was but the presence of colours.

“Just curious though, why orange?”

Felix turned to Hyunjin with a dramatic gasp, pointing at the rainbow pullover he had on over the striped violet blazer with his forefinger, specifically at the muted orange on one of the sleeves. “This, is orange.”

He shoved the paper bag onto Hyunjin’s face right against the tip of his sharp nose, “and this, is salmon pink,” the werewolf gave his tongue a disappointed click, “I expect more from an artist like you, Hwang.”

“So, why salmon?” Hyunjin scoffed, emphasizing the last word, “no offense to your preferences, but your colours would look dreadful and horrid on her. I’m currently imagining it and…” the siren scrunched his nose, “nah.”

“I’m imagining it and she looks lovely!” Felix chirped, his sparkly blue eyes roaming dreamily over the dark ceiling of the hallways above.

The Botanical Sciences class she was attending was just around the corner. Hyunjin’s sharp irises scanned the students in groups who had just marched out of the class in case she moved past coincidentally. “Just be careful she’s not necessarily—”

The familiar severed hand crawled across the paving stone floor, avoiding a horde of leather shoes, before it reached Felix’s polished one. Thing’s fingers drummed against the vamp of his shoe gently, pleased to once again meet the happy little werewolf, before slithering back away to its legitimate owner.

Felix squeaked out her name at the sight of a group of three students having just walked out of the class. He darted towards his target in a black quilted sweater over the dark uniform.

“...nice to anyone.” Hyunjin sighed, opting to wait behind one of the corinthian columns. He was not particularly fond of the psychic’s presence, too bloodcurdling for his irradiant nuance, he thought.

Beside her was Jisung, her gorgon friend who always had a beanie on his head to hide his snake hair, and Chan, her extremely attractive vampire friend that had charmed twice as many as a siren could ever have with their singing.

As if the sweet chirp of her name that rolled off Felix’s tongue wasn’t a distressing alarm for her to run off, just like how she would’ve if it were anyone else that called her name with the same sugary tone, she turned and patiently watched the werewolf’s little jumps approaching. Thing had apparently crawled back up to its rightful place on her shoulder by the time Felix stood there before her.

However her face slightly contorted in question and mild disgust when a bright yellow paper bag was shoved onto her chest, the first time any colour more vibrant than the boring shades of black and white ever getting so close to her allergic skin. She sneaked a glance inside and thought it was an odd pink knitted jumper. She raised a brow at Felix without a word.

“White day!” His face beamed with a radiant grin and eyes sparkled in unfaltering enthusiasm as he exclaimed.

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you for the chocolate last Valentine’s but I hope you wouldn’t mind that I shared them with my classmates including my friend Hwang Hyunjin over there.” He pointed at the tall boy who was standing stiffly against a pillar and a little too far.

She hummed, “oh, the ugly man of the night.”

“People genuinely want to be with him. He rarely sings to attract them.” Felix defended.

“You’d be surprised.”

Thing dawdled into the paper bag and tugged at the jumper, rubbing the soft fabric between its forefinger and thumb. Its palm faced her briefly before turning back to the jumper in confusion, as if calculating whether or not the colour would suit her.

“It’s pink.” She announced.

“Salmon pink,” Felix corrected, “works great with black and dark grey like your wardrobe.” Then he nodded at the paper bag, “dark tones suit you best but I do honestly think you’d look amazing in vibrant colours as well. Just for the accent, you know.”

“Looks like a rainbow vomited here.” She deadpanned.

“Looks like something you’d take out of your own closet. You made this yourself?” Chan asked with a wide dimpled grin.

Felix looked his way, noticing how the vampire’s usual crimson irises glinted softer, “mhm!”

“Looks like it’s reciprocated then.” Jisung chimed in, draping an arm over her shoulders to which the latter dodged right away with a single shrug and a glare of warning.

“Of course!” Felix confirmed abruptly, making Chan and Jisung choke on their own spits, “where I come from reciprocating Valentine’s gifts we receive is a form of courtesy and gratitude. Though it seems like White Day isn’t commonly celebrated here.”

“Did you get any more Valentine’s gifts?” She inquired.

“Nope! But I—”

“Good.”

Felix glanced at the screen of his watch when his alarm for the next class went off, having realized the nick of time he had before Werewolf Reproduction class.

“Well, I hope you won’t throw it away,” he grinned, “just return it and tell me if you decide it’s too hideous for you, I’ll knit you a black one next time! Bye, Thing!”

Felix waved them goodbye and skipped his way back to Hyunjin who had been waiting anxiously out of earshot.

🍫🍫🍫

The next day Hyunjin was waiting at the entrance of the quad as usual. Felix’s striped blazer swirled in a gust of the spring wind at his sides as he was sprinting across the field from the dorm, a navy ribbon tying his hair in a half ponytail.

They were running late for the first class of the day.

“You slept in again did—” Hyunjin was about to drape a hand over his shoulder but halted suddenly, his grin faltering, mouth agape at something—or someone.

Felix followed his gaze. But it was as if the sun had just shone a few inches over his head, he beamed. His lips dramatically curled into a broad smile, his eyes sparkled and his chest swelled in pride.

She was wearing a salmon pink jumper.

Perhaps it was because she was always inexpressive that it was fairly easy to notice the light shade of crimson that uncharacteristically tinged her cheeks and ears as she was drawing near. Thing hopped off her shoulder and onto Felix’s platinum head at the proximity, its fingers tickling the crown of the werewolf’s head, making him giggle.

“It’s hideous. Make a black one.” She deadpanned as a matter of factly and walked away without waiting for Felix’s response, mingling with Chan and Jisung who were giggling in the hallway.

“You’re not returning it?” Felix half shouted.

She didn’t say or do anything.

And Felix grinned.

He couldn’t be any more amused and satisfied.

“She’s right.” Hyunjin nudged Felix in the arm, staring down at the werewolf with a sly glint in his cerulean eyes, “she indeed looks hideous. But anything to keep her wolf’s smile, I guess.”

[lemobadeskie]

[cattolino]

i am officially a puddle of tears.

[cattolino]

like me better.

pairing: lee minho x f reader. warnings: hand kink, fingering, praise kink if you squint, slightly narcissistic minho but he just loves himself too much lol, implied oral (m receiving). genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers/fwb....? rating: explicit. word count: 2.6k

Changbin’s roommate had the sexiest hands.

And you said exactly that.

Lee Minho was a second year digital arts student and taught dance classes in his spare time. With an experienced dancer body and a face that looked sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves, Minho was accustomed to admiring remarks about his ideal body proportions, his muscular and flexible physique, his thick and sinewy thighs, his excellent and toned pecs, his sharp jawline, his plump and pouty lips, his pointed nose, his big and round eyes… and the list went on because everyone always had something to talk about when it came to Lee Minho.

As a complement to his exquisite appearance, he had just the right amount of confidence that made people either want to be with him or want to be him. It was like every fragment of his being was the pristine example of transcendence beauty. Very praiseworthy. And everyone should be jealous. Minho was aware of all that. To be frank he relished in the heart eyes of people as they walked past him.

But then Changbin brought you into his shared apartment to work on a project together.

Instead of widened eyes and parted lips and a stuttered breathing like the reactions he’d gotten from most people, you beamed and happily greeted him with an unashamedly loud and sincere “oh, wow, you’re really pretty! And nice hair, too!” before following Changbin to the living room.

Your compliments were honest. But clearly lacked worship. And where’s the ulterior motive in the eyes begging to get fucked? Thought anyone wants him in bed? Minho blinked, glancing at your back.

And then it was the umpteenth time you came to hang out. You and Changbin doodled on your respective sketchbooks but you’d been too distracted to carry on. You were blatantly staring at Minho’s hands chopping some vegetables on the kitchenette across from you. The next minute you casually told him that he had the sexiest hands you had ever seen.

He couldn’t help but choke on his own spit coughing profusely as his knife clattered against the cutting board. Changbin eyed you with a clear “what the fuck” look evident on his disgusted face.

Because when people say something about Minho’s hands, it would be that they were nice or soft or chubby or just anything else other than sexy. You shrugged, “I said what I said.”

You weren’t joking. His arms might not be as beefy and massive as Changbin’s, but you thought they were the perfect amount of toned and well-defined. The veins protruding along the skin of the back of his hands and forearms especially when he was straining might be the cause of your sudden moan. The width and length of his hands were below the average of an adult male that you likened them to kitten paws sometimes.

But his fingers… Well, they were thicker and longer in size than most people you hooked up with. And most definitely much thicker and a little longer than yours.

So yes, when you said his hands were the sexiest you had ever seen, you weren’t joking.

“You should stop saying I have nice hands.” Minho commented with a laugh one day.

You were filling in your glass with ice water from the fridge as he leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest.

“Oh, but I never did.” You denied, before sneaking a quick glance at him with a chuckle, “I said they’re sexy.”

“And you mean it?”

You turned on your heel with a glass full to the brim, “from the myriad of hands I’ve observed, yes, yours belong to the sexy category.”

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, brows furrowing amusedly as an idea that’d been invading his thoughts lately travelled down to the edge of his tongue, threatening to be let out. And he did, “so you have a hand kink.”

You hopped onto the counter and paused for a moment, taking a gulp from the glass, letting the cool liquid freshen up your throat as you stared up at the ceiling. And then you shrugged, “yeah, that makes sense.”

If Minho was surprised at your nonchalance at the accusation, it wasn’t shown through his face as his grin widened and he laughed. You glanced over at him with a raised brow, “what?”

He shook his head, “do you usually go around telling people you like their hands and admit it right away when they tell you that you might have a hand kink?”

“Not people. Just Changbin and you.”

“You like his hands too?”

“His hands are sexy.”

“Sexier than mine?”

“Gotta be honest, no.”

“I always love your honesty.”

“You mean you love the compliments.”

“So you like my hands better?”

Your eyes narrowed with interest, all while the distance between you and Minho had eventually gradually scaled down. He was practically standing between your legs, and the glass in your hand was the only barrier between your chests. You took another sip of the cold water, “depending on what needs to be done.”

“I’ll make it easier. Whose you’d prefer to have around your neck?”

“What the fuck kind of conversation did I just heard?” Changbin stood behind you across the island counter with a pair of ice packs attached to the back of his thighs. Yesterday was his leg day.

Minho shrugged, “just kinks and stuff.”

Changbin’s face contorted in disgust as he walked around to grab a can of diet coke from the fridge. He sauntered back to his bedroom, leaving the scene with a shout, “I don’t care if you bang each other. Just not in the kitchen!”

Minho shouted back, “suggestion accepted!”

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, pushing his chest away with a pad of your finger and about to hop off the counter but you caged you in. He took your glass and put it on the counter, leaning in to speak lower despite his roommate having been out of earshot.

“So whose hands you like better?” You thought it was just another flirting attempt, unless there wasn’t a sign of it on his face when he said that. Instead, his eyes were searching for yours as he was waiting for an answer.

You smiled.

Perhaps you had a hand kink. Combined with the attractive Lee Minho? And you’re dead.

You were settled in his lap, back flushed against his chest as he reclined back against the leather headboard of his bed. His legs intertwined with your own, holding each of your legs apart as his hand smothered along the inner of your thigh. His other hand rested around your throat, keeping the back of your head stilled on his shoulder as his lips moulded with yours.

Once his thumb added a slight pressure to the side of your neck, you released a shaky breath into his mouth. And he smiled against your lips.

He discarded his shirt, leaving himself with only his boxer shorts. The whereabouts of your skirt and shirt were vague in your head. Probably in the doorway of his room where he’d had you pinned against earlier, or somewhere at the foot of the bed where he’d dragged you from to settle between his thighs. Somehow you just ended up in only your panties and bra.

He caught your lips again. His hand trailed up to the warmth of your center, fingertips gently rubbed against your clothed cunt before he hooked a finger around your panties and dragged the thin fabric to the side. You pulled away once the cool air caressed your bare entrance, head thrown back on his shoulder and releasing a long sigh as he began stroking your clit.

He nibbled the shell of your ear. The hand on your neck cradled your jaw, pulling your head off of his shoulder for you to look down. “Watch.”

And God, were you so soaked already.

Even in the dim of his room you could still see how his palm and fingers were glistening, his slick-wet skin reflecting the lights from the night lamps at each side of his bed. But hotter than all of that was the protruding veins that bulged along his arm all the way to the back of his hand as his fingers persistently rubbed your clit, each stroke leading his middle digit to dip deeper into your entrance. You squirmed and mewled, legs lightly shaking at the mere sight of it.

There had been a few nights out with alcohol in your system where someone would have their fingers deep inside your walls and make you moan out loud. Minho wasn’t the only person who’d laid a finger on your sensitive area trying to get you off, but nobody had ever managed to get you drenched with only the tip of their finger barely inside you like he did now, no. To his credit, there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in your system. Only a few gulps of cold water.

The amount of slick you produced pooled in the creases towards the center of his palm. You gripped his wrist tight, whining out loud cries of his name as he kept assaulting your clit with perseverance. His lips stretched wide into a pleased grin, chin resting on your shoulder as he himself watched his middle finger slowly sink into your entrance.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

His thirst for compliments. Seriously.

The answer was, his. His hands were just so oddly sexy it was ridiculous. But curse him and his overflowing confidence and overwhelming self love. You might want to tease him a little.

You bit down onto your lower lip as you watched his finger sink deeper and deeper, your walls clenched at the intrusion. Your grip around his wrist loosened, letting him go inside of you further. You let out a long exhale, and hummed, “Changbin.”

And all the increasingly pleasant tinglings coiling up in the pit of your stomach forcefully boiled away as he pulled his finger out. You turned to him with furrowed brows of disapproval.

“Better ask Changbin to make you feel better than I could ever do then, darling. I’m afraid I’m not up to your standards.” His lips pursed into a feigning frown as he spoke. But in contrast to his disappointed pout, he brought his hand up to his lips, licking his drenched digits clean with a sensual movement of his tongue without breaking eye contact.

You wouldn’t lose to him. You’d get what you wanted. You weren’t the only one affected here, if the slight poke on your backside was anything to go by.

You mirrored his pout, palm wrapping around his wrist and bringing it back down between your thighs. He let you, but only until his palm hovered over your folds, barely touching you. His face twisted with an impish grin, “you know the magic words.”

Still with a feigning pout, you leaned close to plant kisses up his jaw, then settled your head back down on his shoulder. Your face nuzzled the side of his neck. “Of course I love your hands better, silly. Isn’t it obvious enough?”

“Better than everybody else’s?”

If you had learnt something else about him tonight, it was that everything seemed to be a competition for him. Or he was just eager to have your sole attention on him. Tsk.

You hummed.

His fingers thrusted once.

Then twice.

“Words, baby.”

You grinded down, shifting backwards to where a tent of his erection poke your backside. He groaned at the slight contact, then humping forward to get more friction, while simultaneously adding the second finger in.

You giggled, “better than even my own hands.”

It was all he needed to give you what you wanted. His middle and ring fingers were sliding in and out of your walls in an unforgiving pace that made your thighs quiver. His other hand found its place around your middle. You looked down, purring when you watched his fingers only get wetter and wetter as they kept disappearing and reappearing inside of you.

“Oh—” you sighed, nails clawing at his arm, “good… feel so good…”

As if his fingers weren’t already tormenting enough, his hips began jerking forward, his clothed bulge grazing and rubbing between your ass.

Your eyes threatened to slide close at the tingles in your stomach that gradually evolved into an overwhelming bliss the more he assaulted you from both sides. And yet you couldn’t give up on keeping track of the indecent sight down there; his thick and long digits invading your walls and poking deep into your bundle of nerves, his whole hand coated with your juices and the drenched sheets beneath you.

It was too much. His fingers were too much. His throbbing clothed length was too much. The sight was too much.

And then you convulsed, your walls clenched hard. Head thrown back, curses and his name and an endless of “good… good… good…” spilling out of your parted lips. It wasn’t a plain white ceiling above your head, but stars and white and sparks.

His fingers curled, drawing more of your juices to dribble out of your hole.

When had been the last time you came you hard with just two fingers inside you? But it was two thick fingers and veined hands of Lee Minho we’re talking about here.

You heard a loud pop beside you. Minho was licking clean his slick-glazed fingers. “Tastes so sweet,” he hummed in delight.

Even in your fucked out state, your mind went towards the prominent erection that kept twitching against your backside. Hell, you could even feel his precum even through his shorts and the thin lace of your panties.

“You haven’t— you haven’t come… you…” you said between ragged breaths, attempting to turn around.

He chuckled, sliding his shorts off and helping you lay on your side between his legs. He carefully pulled you closer where your head could comfortably rest on his bare thigh.

He combed through your hair that was half wet with sweat, moving the stray strands out of your face before stroking your cheek softly. Maybe you shouldn’t have only paid attention to his sexy, veined hands because oh my God he looked godly from down here. Perhaps you eventually grasped the obsession people had over him.

You almost gave into the gentle touches of his hand on your face, head still hazy with the most blissful orgasm you’d had in a long while— if it wasn’t for a distracting view presented right there for only you to gawk at.

Your hooded eyes fixated on the glory of his length that stood proud against his toned abs. Your hand reacted faster than your hazy brain, mindlessly reaching for the base and stroking it lightly.

Your eyes were big and pleasing when looking up at him, wordlessly and helplessly asking for permission. He snickered.

“Pretty,” he caressed the side of your face down to your jaw, “so pretty for me.”

Then he brought his hand up to his face. He licked his thumb. The pad of his forefinger tipped up your chin, and his thumb rushed over your parted lips, coating the plump flesh with his spit.

His unoccupied palm led your hand to properly wrap around the base of his cock, guiding you to stroke and palm the head. And when you thought he was about to jerk himself off using your hand, he dragged your face closer with his other hand and hovered the tip of his cock over your lips, precum slowly dribbling out of its slit.

He parted your lips wider with a thumb, smiling down at you, “my turn?”

[myangelhaven]

This is my recommendations of BANGCHAN fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesnt)

Credits to the authors!! All informations written are taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.

HAPPY READING!!

KEY

[❀]: fluff [𖦹]: humour [𖤓]: angst [☄]: sad [☾]:smut [⟡]:smau [✮]: my favs

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮----------BANGCHAN-----------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

DRABBLES & SHORT FICS

Untitled by @agi-ppangx [❀]

ten things bang chan says when he thinks you’re asleep by @soobnny [❀]

Surprise shower by @ch4nb4ng [☾][cheating?] w/ Changbin as bf

Teasing Chan was fun, especially with Changbin being your boyfriend, but you become surprised when you feel Chan creeping up on you in the shower instead

Myth by @astraystayyh [❀]

Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.

tmt (too much tank tops) by @skeezsbbygirl [❀]

A love song and a confession by @lotus-dly [❀][𖤓][f2l]

Confessions of a dirty mind by @minisugakoobies [❀][☾]

The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

Title track: I'll always want you by @lotus-dly [𖤓][fwb]

7:57am by @lotus-dly [suggestive]

Love me, even in my darkest moments by @lotus-dly [𖤓][hurt/comfort]

Let me let you go by @ppiri-bahng [𖤓][unrequited][hopeful ending]

You find out your best friend has a girlfriend and you haven’t been the same since. Angst, unrequited, hopeful ending

[2:13am] by @thevampywolf [❀]

Restraining order by @hyungszn [❀][☾][establishedrelationship]

Stack by @seospicybin [❀][☾][establishedrelationship]

All bets are off for a game night with Bangchan.

Help me by @bchan95 [❀]

Based on Chan's recent bubble messages.....

(him telling stay "forgot to take off my lenses hahaha, take em off for me hahaha")

Pillow by @bambikisss [❀][☾][f2l]

You're a creature of habit: you did the same thing every night. However, it seems that Chris has different plans.

Always by @hee0soo [❀][idolau]

Request: Yes please, if you can maybe make a behind the scenes after bangchan got angry at the staff during a vlive , there is a video of it, I've been wondering what it would be like after the vlive and who would calm him down ? by @sclassstay

Confiscated by @kaciidubs [❀][sexual innuendos][establishedrelationship] 791

He was going a little too crazy on the new Fans app, and you would swiftly reign that energy back in.

Not your boyfriend! by @daaawnnn [❀] 928

after attending a christmas party hosted by jisung, you were waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up. but what if you got approached by a stranger instead? or so you thought.

You're how I pray by @inniejeonginnie [❀][suggestive] 1k

chan lies about his love life to get a reaction from you, but to him you're not only a crush, but his entire heart, faith and adoration

Not For Sale by @thevampywolf [❀] 1.1k

Always here by @sulfurcosmos [❀][𖤓][establishedrelationship][suggestive] 1.1k

Our last dance by @iridescentxstars [❀][𖤓][☄][werewolfau][immortalau][death] 1.3k

chris lived a full life, a life better than he thought he would but everything must come to an end for those who are not immortal

Can't control myself by @cosmic-railwayxo [𖤓][unrequited love] 1.3k

Stuckinmybrain by @j-onedrabbles [❀][𖤓][☄][establishedrelationship][overthinking] 1.5k

listened to STUCKINMYBRAIN AGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?"

Ours by @thevampywolf [❀][✮][sliceoflife] 1.6k

Slow down by @joyfulhopelox [☾] 1.6k

When We See it by @changbeanie [𖤓][❀][✮] 1.6k

Six years. Six years have gone by since the day you left. Six years later, Chan opens your present and relives all the memories made with you.

little bit of advice, take the dare by @cattolino [☾][r2l][mature] 2.1k

Corruption by @jonespicy [❀][☾][bff2l][virgin] 2.2k

Because it's love by @imagine-a-life-like-this [fwb][suggestive] 2.7k

it was supposed to be a no strings attached arrangement, but unfortunately for her, she fell in love with him, knowing that he had someone in his heart. but what if that person was her all along?

Dimple by @forlix [❀][𖦹][hurt/comfort][smut implied] 2.8k

incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

Wish you would by @cb97percent [𖤓][☾][☄][✮✮][boyfriend's bff][hard yearning] 2.8k

He shouldn't love you, but he doesn't know how to make it stop.

Into it by @lixiesfreckless [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][car/drunk sex][mutualpining][besties] 3k

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

Junkie by @cb97percent [❀][𖤓][☾][rockstarau][heavy thirsting] 3.2k

Of course he has hundreds of fans screaming his name — he's a rockstar. The problem is something happens to him every time he's performing, and you just can't stop staring.

Corruption with chan by @tasteleeknow [❀][𖤓][☾][mafiaau] 3.2k

I really fucking like you by @thevampywolf [❀][𖤓][idolau] 3.4k

Zip by @cb97percent [❀][☾][✮][fwb] 3.4k

You and Chris' understanding of what "friends with benefits" entails is different than what is commonly accepted

Stay the night by @sulfurcosmos [❀][f2l] 3.4k

being awfully nervous when they're having a sleepover because they just worry their thoughts will be wandering when they're sharing a bed

Take me back by @loveliestfelix [❀][𖤓][✮] 3.7k

Venus fly trap by @seo--changbin [❀][☾][establishedrelationship][cncroleplay] 3.9k

The hello kitty fantasy by @hee-pster [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][e2l] 4k

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.

Dream you by @charmercharm3r [❀][𖤓][☾] 4k

He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

Sweet by @tasteleeknow [❀][☾][brother's bff2l] 4.1k

you’re his best friend’s little sister. he’s obsessed with you, and you him. he has very good self control—until he’s forced to share a tent with you. forced proximity with corruption kink.

Third wheel by @cb97percent [☾☾][3some] w/(fem)hyunjin 4.1k

It would be wrong if you were attracted to one of your best friends since they are in a relationship, but you don't know what the protocol is when you have the hots for both of them.

Koala by @tasteleeknow [❀][𖤓][✮][roomates to lovers] 4.3k

your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you’re not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

Better or Worse by @jl-micasea-fics [❀][𖤓][☾][☄] 4.7k

Married life is tough, and you’re approaching your limit. Can you rekindle the flames you once had with your distant husband? Or is it already too late?

Verbatim by @cb97percent [❀][☾][✮✮][fwb] 4.8k

You both have a libido control problem around each other as it is, but when you show up at the university building with glasses for the first time, Chris becomes the human embodiment of the word unhinged.

Hatefuck with Chan by @ballelino [☾][𖤓][✮] 4.9k

your love-hate relationship with chan turns more into the former than the latter

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄more to come!⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

☆--------Chan's masterlist || skz masterlist---------☆

[cattolino]

thank you for inlcuding my fic i really appreciate it <3

[cattolino]

masterlist.

BC.

— little bit of advice, take the dare. | 🔞, implied rivals to lovers, one shot (possible continuation if i can manage).

— slow fade. | angst, infidelity, one shot.

— push me further, pull me closer. | 🔞, fwb, idol au, one shot.

LMH.

— indecent | 🔞, established relationship, one shot.

— like me better | 🔞, strangers to friends to implied lovers/fwb? one shot.

SCB.

— not very friendly of you | 🔞, childhood best friends, fwb, mini series (ongoing).

# part 1 (recent)

LF.

— sweet angel | 🔞, established relationship, one shot.

— polar | fluff, nevermore au, strangers to friends to implied lovers, one shot.

YJI.

— new pet | modern fantasy, witch/animagus au, oneshot.

OT8.

— the morning after | 🔞, fluff, drabble thread.

# hyung line

# maknae line

[cattolino]

little bit of advice, take the dare.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader. warnings: profanities, implied exhibitionism, dirty truth or dare (more like dare or dare...), stripping, mild grinding, dirty talks. genre: implied rivals to lovers, implied smut. rating: mature. word count: 2.1k

“Let Chan strip two pieces of your clothing.”

These little bitches.

The innocence in Seungmin’s broad grin as he delivered aloud and clear what Minho had earlier whispered in his ear wasn’t able to deceit Chan the slightest in spite of it combined with that sparkly attentive puppy stare.

A foul scheme had been carefully arranged in those two cunning heads of theirs before they instigated this truth or dare game as soon as the majority of people returned home. Chan wasn’t oblivious of what he would get himself into the moment Minho escorted him from the drinking game in the back patio to a coffee table in the living room and begged him to join in the fun. Especially when you were one of the people centering around the table.

And so Chan was down for whatever challenges thrown his way no matter truth or dare it was that he ended up choosing. Wouldn’t really matter. Except now it was your turn, yet he was somehow involved in such a risque dare so early in the game.

Seungmin’s index finger pointed around the room twice, attracting the attention of the few people close enough to the table to see what he was up to, and he added, “or let anyone in the room. Your choice.”

As though he expected you would actually pick one of the sweaty and tipsy dimwits you barely knew of instead of Chan who you were certainly more familiar with. When, seriously, it was clear to Chan that both Seungmin and Minho wanted to prove him wrong— that the possibility of you romantically attracted to one another wasn’t even close to impossible despite the banter between the two of you sometimes getting out of hand.

The banter, Seungmin and Minho insisted, was a flirting attempt.

You leaned back onto the sofa behind you, crossing your arms with a stare of haughty disdain piercing through Seungmin and Minho’s who both seemed to be just as imperious.

“I was expecting a more daring one from you horny freaks,” your eyes then landed on Chan who was sitting across from you. Not looking away, your proud smile widened into a blithe grin, “this isn’t even his dare. But if he’s down, I don’t see why I have to back down.”

Chan stretched his arms and arched his back as a dramatic warmup before downing the remaining liquor in his red cup, earning supportive laughs from the excessively excited spectators around. “As long as you don’t back down if they involve you in my dares later.”

Getting up from the floor, you rounded the table and stood before him. You mirrored the smug grin that stretched across his face as he peered up at you, “pants and sweater then, gentleman.”

Despite the profuse tease that gleamed in your irises, Chan didn’t entertain you with even a slight wavering in the way he looked back up at you. Instead, taunting you with a faux innocent tilt of his head as his firm yet tender fingers began to toy with the button of your jeans.

The waistband of your black panties as if emerged once he slid down the zipper. He wasn’t sure if your hand placement on the crown of his head was unintended, but then your lips tilted up into a smile and your brow arched challengingly as your fingers ran through the soft tresses of his brown curls.

Encouraged, he lifted the hem of your sweater, exposing just enough of your bare stomach. His other palm smothered around your waist and landed on the small of your back, drawing you closer until his lips accidentally brushed against the bare skin of your stomach.

Chan’s hearts didn’t leap at his own sly, dirty initiation.

It didn’t. Definitely not.

Perhaps one could cut the air with a knife as the tension between you two was thickening the longer he took his time sliding the pants off your waist and the tighter you had his hair gripped in your palm. But everyone else was too preoccupied with keeping track of his veiny hands lingering around the waistband of your jeans, tugging down the denims at an intentionally slow pace.

In one glance, nothing of your true emotions was shown through your perfunctory facade. But Chan was practically on his knees, hands on you, and there was less than two inches gap between his lips and your stomach. Anything changed from your stance, he could easily catch it.

So when he felt you tensed up when he tantalized you by skimming his palm down the side of your thigh as the other pulled the jeans down to pool around your ankles, he had to fight back the triumphant grin he felt was close to spread on his face.

Once the pants were tossed somewhere on the floor, Chan got up on his feet as you held your arms up for him to take your knitted sweater off over your head.

His eyes peered down at where the bare skin of your stomach was supposed to be on full display as he pulled the hem of your sweater up. The underband of your bralette was slowly showing the higher the hem of your sweater was lifted.

He drew closer, lips lingered on your ear, chuckling and murmuring out of everyone’s earshot, “should’ve made you rid of three garments instead of two. What a shame.”

You ran your palms down along his torso as soon as your sweater was off your upper half, and you leaned in to whisper in his ear where nobody else could hear, too. “Next time it’s your turn, I’ll make you stand on the porch naked.”

Shameless gasps of “oh fuck” was heard from around you as you casually sat down with only high cut panties and black bralette. Chan could easily relate. He found himself checking you out when you weren’t looking.

He was grateful of the sudden rough smack on his thigh that brought him back to his senses. He looked to his left where the hand was from and Minho shot him a knowing look before leaning over to mutter, “you fucking pervert.”

He chuckled. Perhaps he was.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” Felix chippered lovely squeaks and giggles as he bounced up and down on the carpeted floor in anticipation. More because the game had progressed into all the more obscene to earlier than he had expected. Don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face.

Chan just had to dissolve into laughter and squeaks and giggles when the bottle cap once again pointed in your direction. Twice in a row, it was. He threw his head back laughing when your jaw plunged into the ground in disbelief and eyes narrowed into slits in spite, feeling betrayed— by the bottle.

“Sit on Chan’s lap.” Jeongin smugly declared before anyone could even think of something potent to embarrass yourself, effectively shutting down the jeers and laughter as they contemplated.

You shrugged, once again rounding the table to where Chan was perched on the floor and nonchalantly settled your ass on his lap before he could protest.

Chan, on the other hand, grasped either side of your waist tightly and tried to prevent you from dwelling on that particular spot. But you persisted on reclining your back onto his chest, shoving your ass further down to where Chan could feel himself twitch.

“Fuck you.” He cursed against your neck when you slightly wiggled your lower half.

“Quit being a jerk,” you whispered back with a chuckle, but tone laced with genuine threat, “or I’ll make you wet your pants. Literally.”

Not even thirty minutes into the game that everyone around the table was a little tipsy with signs of either misery and happiness written on their faces.

With five people being out of the circle and off to the back patio for a lot more lame drinking  game with other football players, the remaining nine still held out in place to seek revenge.

Minho had tasted his own medicine as he was left with only briefs around his waist but not that he was unhappy about it as he’d gotten to proudly present his hard-earned well built body when you had Jisung leave three hickeys on his shoulders and two on his inner thigh. Jisung had solid yellow face paint all over his face, exactly resembling Looney Tunes’ Tweety.

Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor with occasional dramatic huffs and groans after he’d called his problematic ex and told him he’d been missing him. Changbin and Felix were disgustingly glued to one another after the older prolonged the supposedly five-second kiss. Seungmin had collected lipstick marks around his neck from ten people. Jeongin almost passed out from seven slices of pizza he’d had to finish before Seungmin returned.

And Chan was about to get his second turn after the top of the bottle pointed at him and you, who was still very much comfortably perched on his lap.

“Dare.” He didn’t even hesitate, calm and confident.

Not even when Minho slightly shoved himself forward to gain everyone’s attention. A little lift at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed and for some reason, Chan was even anticipating what the little bitch had to say now.

“Are people still doing seven minutes in heaven?” Minho blurted, making Felix perk up instantly.

Hyunjin abruptly ended his dramatic disintegration and sat down with a gasp. “Oh my god,” he started, “I did it a year ago at a frat party with a guy except we weren’t allowed to say anything. Not a single fucking sound ‘cause one of them was sitting in the front of the door and if they heard even a small bit of me moaning, we’d have to walk to class the next day with extremely short fucking miniskirt. Imagine such suffering I had to bear while a hot guy blew me. He was great though.”

Wonder-stricken looks were instead what the taller got from everyone in the room. Minho was especially beaming at the deliberate suggestion and against his better judgement, his eyes landed on Chan whose chin rested on your shoulder. The older raised a brow in amusement when catching him staring, already seeing through the younger’s impish smirk.

Seungmin turned towards Minho, “I vote for what exactly Hyunjin did.”

Minho chuckled, “slow down, my guy. Our Channie doesn’t have to get someone suck him off. He can do whatever he pleases behind the door. But not. A single. Fucking. Sound.” He firmly suggested as he looked Chan dead in the eye. Insisted, even, perhaps, “or Changbin would love to lend his sister’s pink tutu.”

While Chan’s expression was hard to read, the rest seemed to be pleased. Excited, even.

You straightforwardly approved of Minho’s suggestion, ripping through the sound of supportive cheers from the others with an excited squeak after taking a sip of cheap beer from your cup, “I volunteer to sit at the door.”

Chan snorted behind you, “who says you’re not coming with me?”

A noisy commotion of “ooooohhh” and dramatic “aaaaahhh” immediately collided with the blaring EDM played in the background.

He’d thought you would never run out of snide remarks to shoot back at him at a time like this. So when you choked on your drink at his candidness, he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Felix unattached himself from Changbin’s arm, hands flailing before his own face as he grinned so brightly that the dim room no longer seemed to be as dim as it was supposed to be. Once again, don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face. “Okay, look. You got seven minutes. Choose your person. No sounds allowed. We’ll set the timer once the door’s shut.”

“That room’s empty.” Changbin added with a snicker, nodding at the door to his roommate’s room, “he’s gone for two weeks. Just don’t make a mess.”

If Chan was surprised at how he managed to manhandle you and somehow scoop you up as he got on his feet, it didn’t show on his face. You securely wrapped yourself around his upper half, a long list of filthiest profanity was at the tip of your tongue at the sudden, unannounced move.

Chan blinked. Not breaking eye contact, his tongue brushed over the upper row of his pearly teeth before those sank in his lower lip. There might be a lack of reaction shown on your face as you seemed to be still as annoyed, but the faint pinkish tint that stained your cheeks had said so much already.

He glanced over to Changbin, nodding, “worry not. I’ll swallow everything y/n has to give me.”

“You better,” your irritated stare tapered off into that of a challenging glare injecting venom straight into his dimpled grin, “or I’ll make you wear the tutu.”

[blankdyean]

ooohhh the sexual tension in this is just perfect for them as "rivals" 👀 and cocky chan is sooo hot like I need more cocky chan in fics pls 🛐 and I also need him in me–

[cattolino]

aren’t you so real 🤚 also thank you sm for reading!! <3