length: 7 inches hard. pretty, almost delicate looking, like it shouldn’t belong to someone who fights. smooth skin, flushed pink tip, nothing “scary” about it—just begging to be used.
look: too pretty to waste. he keeps it neat, almost like he’s embarrassed about anyone seeing it. but when he’s leaking all over your hand, dripping precum down his thighs? yeah, he loses that composure fast.
curve: slight upward tilt, perfect for hitting deep—but the funniest part is he’s the one whining about it. he’ll arch his back without meaning to, choking on moans every time you push him right.
stamina: he thinks he has it. spoiler: he doesn’t. kurapika is a terrible liar when it comes to sex; his body gives him away. he cums fast when you edge him, overstimulate him, make him ask.
kinks reflected in his dick: denial, overstimulation, begging. this dick was made to be edged until he’s crying, made to twitch helplessly while you tell him “not yet.”
vibe: “royal brat that folds the second you touch him.” all that poise, all that control—gone the moment you wrap your hand around him. he breaks embarrassingly easy.
cumshot: heavy, messy, humiliating. kurapika covers his face when he cums, as if hiding could make it less obvious how much he needed it. his release is hot, endless, spurting in thick ropes that leave him shaking.
extra: his cock twitches whenever you call him “pretty boy.” he pretends not to hear it, but the way he throbs in your hand ruins the act instantly.
final score: 8.7/10 pretty, needy, submissive—this dick is made to be used, ruined, and milked dry.
Context: Your boyfriend gave you his card to use but you didn't use it so he trying to figure out why.
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Hey friends how y’all doing I hope you are doing well like I’m not going to stop complaining about this heat today was so hot I was sweating bad omg but it’s ok life still goes on and yeah tell how you like this and if you see any mistakes look the other way ok baiii💋
what if the reader tries to escape Chrollo and gets caught and she fears punishment so she tries to seduce him?
Note: this was fun lol. This actually inspired me to write a fic for this too. It goes along with it. I'll be posting it separately since it's pretty long. :)
Chrollo doesn’t let go of his fascinations easily–antique books, Nen abilities, valuable artifacts, and even people—he likes to keep them close. Unfortunately for you, he’s very fascinated with you. You could run to the other side of the world, change your identity, start a whole new life, and he would still find you. He’s fucking relentless. Absolutely nothing can keep you safe from him. Call it love, call it obsession, call it whatever you want, it doesn’t make any difference when you’re trying to get away.
Predictably, your escape failed—and you’re fucking terrified of being punished. Understandably so, Chrollo can be fucking horrifying. But he’s never raised his voice or hand at you, ever. That's not his style. Still, it’s only natural to expect punishment when caught doing something wrong, even though right and wrong is somewhat subjective in this scenario.
I highly doubt Chrollo would be anything less than calm and composed when he catches you. He’s not the type of person to get emotional easily, even in the most unfavorable situations. His calm, charismatic, and methodical approach has always worked for him—why change now? Because he seems somewhat detached for the most part, I don’t think Chrollo would reveal anything he’s thinking or feeling when he confronts you. He wouldn’t be angry or raise his voice, and he definitely wouldn’t act impulsively or resort to physical violence.
The only thing Chrollo would intentionally reveal is his disappointment—with you and your futile attempt at escape. It wouldn’t be genuine, of course. He’s only doing it because he knows the effects it’ll have on you. Depending on the circumstances—his mood at the time, or whether you’ve tried to escape before—he might use subtle threats to make it crystal fucking clear that there’s no escaping him. He tries his best to avoid violence of any kind with you, it's not something he enjoys or feels is necessary. He’d rather hint at the consequences of your actions—not just for you, but for your friends, your family, and anyone involved in your escape.
Chrollo strikes me as the type who would rather make someone fear what could happen than actually carry out a punishment. He might feel like that method provides the best results? Less disobedience and more compliance, without completely breaking someone? Who knows.
Anywayssss. Your fear about being punished for trying to escape wouldn’t surprise Chrollo, he already expected that. But you trying to seduce him would be very surprising, he never expected that. He’d hide his surprise and confusion well, barely letting anything show—maybe just a brief change in his body language, but that's all. Considering the kind of man Chrollo is, he probably wouldn’t want you to know that you had actually managed to throw him off guard, and that definitely influenced his reaction.
I’d imagine that Chrollo’s feelings for you would also play a part in how he’d react to the situation. He is attracted to you, both physically and emotionally, and you trying to seduce him would really test his limits. In his mind, he might be imagining fucking you right then and there, thinking of all the things he could do to you. But he knows better than to act solely on feelings, and prides himself on self-control. During your time together, Chrollo made sure he never crossed any lines with you, understanding the importance of appearing gentlemanly, composed, and caring. He knew that making you feel uncomfortable—more than necessary—would do little good, so he carefully maintained his image. As selfish as it sounds, he did it for himself more than he did it for you.
Chrollo’s also very smart. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize that you’re probably only trying to seduce him so you can avoid being punished. He’s seen people do all sorts of things under the right amount of pressure, but this might be a first. The fact that you’d try to manipulate him—and in that specific way too—was amusing. But he wouldn’t stop you, no, he’d rather sit back and observe for a bit, probably contemplating how to deal with you.
If Chrollo does decide to ‘entertain’ your attempts of seduction, it's because he wants to, not because you succeeded in seducing him. Maybe he’d play along because he wants to see just how far you’d go? Maybe he’s been feeling a little pent up lately, and this is the perfect opportunity to satisfy his needs? Either way, Chrollo never does anything without a purpose.
In this case, Chrollo would use the situation as an opportunity to teach you a lesson. Don’t expect much leniency from him. Running away was a betrayal, and that’s not something he’ll forget, or forgive easily. Still, he can’t help but feel slightly impressed with how you handled the situation. He knows you’re scared, but instead of giving into your fear—like he would’ve expected—you made a cunning move, attempting to manipulate him. And it might have worked, too, if you weren’t trying to manipulate him. But that tiny bit of respect you managed to gain doesn’t mean you’re off the hook from being punished.
If Chrollo does decide to punish you, he wouldn’t be overly cruel with it. Fear can be a great motivator, but he wouldn’t overdo it. He doesn’t want to traumatize you, no, that would only cause more problems for him in the long run. Instead, he’d opt for something subtle and far more effective, something very intimate. Chrollo is no stranger to using unorthodox methods of punishment, and he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest to employ them if they served his purpose.
Chrollo would intentionally draw out the situation, allowing you to touch and kiss him, while using that sweet voice of yours to whisper some cock-hardening words into his ear. He’d be patient and play along with your game—calmly responding to your advances with some of his own—making you think that you’re winning, but you’re not, and you never will.
He gives you just enough rope to hang yourself with. He’ll let you take the lead, at first. He’ll remain almost passive, his dark eyes tracking your every move, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. It’s a test. He’s giving you the rope, watching with detached curiosity to see how you’ll hang yourself with it.
As you're whispering all that filthy shit in his ear, pressing your body against his, he doesn’t just passively take it. He actively rewards you. He plays along. He doesn’t just passively let you grope him. That would be too obvious. Chrollo is a master of performance. He commits to the role.
As your hands tremble while unbuttoning his shirt, he’ll cover them with his own, steadying them. He’ll lean into your desperate kisses, meeting your frantic energy. It feels like acceptance, like he's being won over. He’ll let out a soft hum of approval, a low sound in his chest that vibrates against your lips, making you think, it’s actually working. He is doing the bare minimum to give you the maximum amount of false hope.
When you kiss his neck, a low groan rumbles in his chest. When your hand slips down to grope the front of his pants, his own hand comes up to grip your hip, pulling you closer. “Is this what you want?” he’ll murmur, voice like silk. “To be close to me like this?” He’s giving you positive reinforcement, at the bare min, meticulously crafting this illusion that you're actually getting to him. He wants you to feel like you’ve successfully manipulated Chrollo Lucilfer.
The flip. The goddamn switch. This is where it all changes. It happens when you’re at your most vulnerable—when he’s finally inside you, deep and warm. You’d be riding him, thinking you’ve won, that this is your escape from punishment—moaning his name, nails scratching down his chest, convinced your little seduction’s got him wrapped around your finger.
No big dramatic moment, just a shift in his grip, his fingers suddenly clamping down on your waist to pin you in place, halting your movements mid-thrust. He’ll hold you still, fully impaled on him. You’re balancing on the edge, pussy clenching around him, so fucking close, and he just... stops. His eyes meet yours, that calm detachment back in full force, a smirk curling his lips as he says, casual as anything, “you didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”
“Did you really think this would work?” He’ll ask, his hips giving a single, slow, thrust that’s devoid of any genuine feeling. He’ll start to move again, but the rhythm is all wrong. It’s too fast, too shallow, or too brutally deep, designed for his pleasure and your discomfort. He’ll watch your face, your desperate expression, and his lips will curl into a mild smirk. “You ran from me,” he’ll whisper, each word punctuated by a rough shove of his hips, rolling into you.“You betrayed my trust.” Thrust. “And you thought you could fuck your way out of the consequences?” Thrust. “How naive.”
This is where the real cruelty comes in. He’s going to use your own body against you. He’ll fuck you—with his fingers, his mouth, his cock—and he will be an expert at it. He knows exactly how to drive you up, how to make your breath catch and your toes curl. He’ll pull out just enough to use his thumb to grind mercilessly against your clit while he fucks you. He’ll drive you to the absolute brink, your whole body convulsing, begging to come. You’ll be sobbing, pleading. And just as the wave is about to crash over you, he’ll stop everything. Completely. He’ll pull his thumb away, still his hips, and just hold you there, impaled and trembling, while the orgasm withers and dies inside you.
“Patience,” he’ll murmur, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, a horrifying contrast to the torment he’s forcing you to endure. He’ll do this over and over again. Bringing you to the brink, then snatching it away, until you’re sobbing, a desperate, incoherent mess, begging him to just let you come. He’ll let you recover for a moment before whispering, “let’s try that again,” and start the entire agonizing process over. Leaving you in a constant state of wired, overstimulated agony.
He overstimulates the fuck out of you after the edging, not letting up even when you finally cum, slamming into your oversensitive cunt until you’re writhing, tears streaming, body betraying you with orgasms that border on painful.
In the aftermath, Chrollo doesn’t gloat—he’s too composed for that shit. But the way he holds you close, stroking your hair while your body’s still twitching from the overload, it’s clear. This was his plan all along. You feared punishment, so he gave it to you wrapped in the sex you offered, ensuring you’ll think twice before trying to escape or seduce your way out again.
Ik this is not what I’m supposed to be working on right now but I cannot get this out of my head. Tw: free use, bondage, dubcon to be safe
As Chrollo’s darling you’re treated well; nice clothes, a comfortable bed, maybe you don’t have quite as much freedom as you would like but you don’t mind.
He’s handsome and charming, always asking you about your day, holding the door for you: the perfect gentleman.
It almost makes you able to forget the bad days. The days he grabs you by the elbow and drags you upstairs after a job goes wrong.
How he pushes you to your knees with your back to the bedroom door. You know what’s expected of you, and you comply, opening your mouth obediently.
Chrollo uses your mouth for however long he likes, sometimes tucking you under his desk so he can work while you warm his cock on your tongue.
Other times he keeps you bound and gagged all day, lying spread open on his bed for him to use at his leisure. You’re exhausted by the end, having taken him over and over with little to no reprieve.
He’s not unkind but he clearly cares little for your comfort or pleasure. To him you’re just a pretty face and a tight cunt, both of which exist only to serve and please him.
At a certain point it starts to feel nice, being used like this. The way he pounds into you, his hands digging into your hips while he nibbles at your ear, whispering all sorts of filth.
“This perfect cunt, all for me. So good at taking my cock, aren’t you?”
You moan for him, loud and unashamed. You’re not faking it either; Chrollo is skilled, even when he’s not trying to be.
He gives your ass a smack once he’s done, then leaves without another word, letting his release spill out of you until he returns for the next round.
facetiming ohyul after work and he picks up fresh out the shower, hair wet, skin still glistening, looking at me like i’m the only thing that matters while i ramble about my day. he keeps saying “mhm” and “tell me more baby” in that low voice… but i can clearly hear the wet, rhythmic strokes of his hand sliding up and down his cock.
he’s not even trying to hide it anymore. every time i pause, he strokes faster. i can see his arm moving, his chest rising quicker, breath getting heavier, but he still wants me to keep talking. so i do. i tell him every little detail, voice sweet and soft, while he jerks off like a perv to the sound of me.
i would pretend i don’t notice how desperate he’s getting. 🚬
plap plap, the sound of your slicked thighs meeting his toned hips echoed in the warm bedroom.
“hah-i can’t—ngh, cum anymore, please-pl-please y/n”
you had just coaxed another orgasm out of chan. he was referring to your government name now; pure desperation reflected in his dilated pupils, eyes glazed over with overstimulation.
“hm? good boys keep cumming until i’m satisfied channie~ i thought you knew that.”
his legs trembled, the muscles that he had worked so hard to grow in the gym were useless now.
your hand travelled upwards to pinch his hardened nipples - and he keened, back arching off of the stained mattress with a yelp.
“fuck—“
chan’s voice cracked, the end of the word becoming high pitched as you picked up the pace slightly.
“pleasepleaseplea—please y/n, f—fuck i’m g’nna cum again—slow down”
his panicked hands found your hips again, nails digging in as a final attempt to slow down your pace.
“oh? i thought you couldn’t cum anymore?”
a smirk slowly spread across your face as a tear trickled down his reddened cheeks.
chan, the man who walked around with confidence in the daytime, were crumbling underneath you by night; his eyebrows scrunched together, endless moans and whimpers escaping past his swollen lips, hair stuck to his forehead with a sheen of sweat coating his entire body.
to be fair to the man, before his nth orgasm, he was still cocky - moving his hips upwards to meet yours, talking about how your pussy belonged to him - but no. he had gotten it wrong.
his cock belonged to you.
as he shot white ropes into you for the millionth time tonight, you would whisper this in his ear, and watch his eyes roll back with a broken moan.
a/n: ty for the request @jjnatth6 <3 i loooove a big man being subby!! chan being a sub goes brrrrr 🥶 i also feel like i haven’t written about channie in ages…
Synopsis: The father of seven celebrates his eighth year as a father of two and one on the way. A dream day spent home in Australia on the beach with his little family.
Word Count: 4.3 K
Warnings: Established relationship AU. Idol!Husband!Chan x NonIdol!WifeReader. Explicit sex (smut warnings below). Anything else is a spoiler.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 21+ ONLY BECAUSE THIS IS NASTY STUFF - Don't like, don't read - Only you can control your media consumption - This is a work of fiction, nothing is true. I am delulu as a solulu to this world.
a/n: Happiest of Father's Day to the father of Stray Kids. I need to touch grass now.
Smut Warnings: Pregnant sex. Breeding kink, level hella heavy. Oral sex (female receiving). Doggy. Head shoved into the bed. Dirty talk. Begging. Squirting. Cowgirl. Overstimulation (male and female receiving). Multiple orgasms (male and female). Choking (male receiving). Missionary.
It was the perfect June day.
The weather sunny, the air balmy as it carried the scent of the sea through the small vacation home he bought after the birth of your daughter, the oldest.
It's more often now that he gets to come home to Australia now that he has kids of his own. Stray Kids are having their much deserved summer break with their own families and while he missed his seven, Chris knows this is where he needs to be right now. It's Father's Day and for the first time in eight years, it is just your small family.
Like the last couple of days, he has spent all day on the beach with his family. Running back and forth to the surf with his son, you walking with your daughter along the beach looking for shells and other items. He's so thankful for his mother for grabbing his new favorite picture of you.
Your daughter has run up to you with a conk shell, perfect and pink but before she makes it to you, she stops and looks down. A hermit crab he later learned from you was making it's way back to the water. Crouched together, you and your daughter are watching the small crab make its way down the beach.
When you looked up, you saw him watching and the smile that lit up your face was like Cupid's arrow hitting him all over again. Chris has to swallow thickly before smiling and waving before your son tugs on him to build a sandcastle.
The sound of your children giggling and their cheers filled the house all day but after the sun set, the gentle breeze turned cooler and their eyes got tired. He was just finishing up his nightly lock down and on his way back up the stairs when you meet in the hallway.
You're still in the light linen dress you pulled on after you joint shower during nap time. Some of the loose tendrils of hair cling to you from the heat of the day, the house, and the effort to corral two young children. Chris notices it causing a light sheen over your skin, the fabric clinging to you slightly.
"How did it go?" His voice is soft as he peeks around the door of your daughters room.
"They wanted to sleep in the fort your made." You smile and wrap an arm around his waist. "They played so hard that they are out cold."
Chris smile and kisses the top of your head before pulling the door closed, taking the monitor from you. "Time for us to go to bed."
"What if I'm not tired?" You tease as his hand roams over the dip of your waist and the flare of your hip.
The arm across you holds you in place as Chris rocks his hardening cock against your lower back. Hearing you gasp softly, his teeth graze the shell of your ear before he whispers, "I didn't say anything about sleeping, baby girl."
You gasp as heat races down to your core and your head tilts to the side, "Christopher." You already sound fucked out and it makes him growl against your skin as he grinds harder against you. "Okay, bedroom." You manage to get apart and into the bedroom.
Once the door is closed, you've turned around and are on him. Arms around his neck and your lips pressed to his. All he can do it groan into the kiss and pull you closer, careful of the small swell of your lower abdomen.
Your third. A surprise to your both since you had restarted a contreceptive after your son was born. Nearing the end of your first trimester, he knew what changes were awaiting you both.
"Christopher," your voice brings him back and effortlessly he scoops you up and carries you to the bed. "I need you. Now" Your fingers slip under the white shirt that he ripped the sleeves off of this morning, feeling the warmth of his sun kissed skin.
"I'm yours, baby girl." His fingers reach up and pull your hair from the clip you tossed it in before bath time and cupped your jaw softly.
"Please," You push the shirt up and kiss over his muscles, loving the way they ripple and jump for you. "I want to-"
His thumb finds your lips and silences you. Chris is a man of iron clad control. Except when it comes to you. "I know what you want, baby girl." He leans down and nuzzles his nose with yours before kissing you softly. "I'm all yours."
You wish you could say it was just the hormones but you knew that it was all Chris. Even before you found out how much pregnancy effects you, he never had to do much to get you arching and gasping his name. Your best friend, turned friend with benefit to boyfriend and finally husband. Knowing that he not only knows your body like the back of his hand but he knows the heart of you always made it easy for you to let go and just feel.
"Chris, please," the soft sob tells him that the pulsing between your legs is painful with how quickly it hit you.
Yes, being pregnant made you needier but it never took him long to get you squirming. Before it would be a look across a room with that smirk of his or a whispered desire before dinner and you were lost. Now, it was as simple as his hand on your waist or the way his hands flex as he cooks.
Now as he pulls his shirt over his head and moves onto his knees before you, a low sound leaves you and your hips rock forward. Desperate for something anything to help with the pressure in your dripping core.
"Hold on, baby girl," he pushes your dress up, groaning as he sees you. You've soaked through the light color pair you have on, allowing him to see how swollen you are. "Fuck, you're so wet." He pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, the movement knocking your arms out from under you.
A huff leaves you as you land on your back. Very quickly you have to cover your mouth as a loud moan is ripped from you when Chris leans in and drags his tongue up your covered slit. "Oh god," you exhale and press your hips up. "Don't fucking tease me."
He groans into you at the demand and quickly rips the fabric from you before both of your feet are planted on his broad shoulders and his face is buried back between your legs. His tongue slides into you as the bridge of his nose grazes against your swollen clit.
"Oh fuck, that's it baby." The praise falls from you as he fucks you with his tongue, letting you roll your hips up to his face. "Christopher that feels so fucking good."
When your nails slide over his scalp before gripping his hair, Chris groans into you. Both of his hands slide over the softness of your thighs, still strong enough to run after your children and to knock him on his ass. Up the swell of your belly, the knowledge that you are once again growing a piece of your shared love drives him mad.
Chris would keep you like this if you would let him. He loves every bit of you, pregnant or not but this, it has to be his favorite look. His dream come true. The sound he makes as it once again washes over him that you are his and this is his life makes you clench around his tongue.
Slowly, he knows you are sensitive and sore, his hands push your dress off your chest. Chris pulls away from you, kissing over your soft lower lips and inner thighs as you arch up, pushing your breasts into his hands. Leaning down he pulls your clit between his lips and pulls. Hard.
The suction on your clit, the stimulation from the way his tongue is also dancing over it on top of the sparks that shoot through you from his hands on your chest quickly shove you to your climax. You soak his chin, his chest, and the foot of the bed as you cum with his name on your lips, your thighs and hips twitching.
One more gentle kiss to your thighs, your hips, that beautiful belly, your sternum, before he licks a strip up your neck, tasting the sweat he noticed on your skin in the hall. His lips find yours and the kiss is feral, nothing but tongue and teeth as you hook your still shaking thighs over his hips and pull him to you.
"More," you breath against his lips, the desire steadily building back up. "Christopher, please,"
"You know you don't have to beg but fuck I love to hear it," he grinds against you and the soft gasp that leaves you makes him smirk. "So sensitive."
"You always do this to me." Your hands slide down his back, tracing the nail marks you left the night before, feeling him shiver and roll his hips into yours. "Plus, don't act like you don't love to hear me beg for your cock."
A low growl leaves him and he smirks down at you, watching the way your face changes each time his hips grind against yours, giving you the friction your core craves. "You have been begging for this cock for over a decade, baby girl. Of course-"
"Yes," you gasp before dragging your nails down the marks from before. "Your cock bred me so well-"
"Don't."
"Then please get inside me."
"I'm not going to be able to be gentle. I've been too rough."
"Christopher," his name comes out as a sob as you feel the pulse in your core and the ache of being empty. "Please, fuck me. Please, you did this to me. You put this fucking baby in me-"
Within seconds you are on your hands and knees with his body pressed tightly along the length of your own. One hand holding his shaft against your slit, coating himself in you, as the other is beside yours on the bed, holding his weight. You watch as his fingers flex into the bedding before they lace with yours. Gripping his fingers tightly, you turn your head to kiss the bicep beside your head.
The power that courses through the body above you has always excited you. He's your protector, your supporter. You've always been his soft place to land, the gentle home where he doesn't have to wear the armor. You feel his muscles are coiled and how he shakes with barely contained restraint.
Biting your bottom lip, you decide to take scissors to the last tether holding him back. You lean forward onto your chest, slip your fingers between his as Chris pushes forward to slide through you, your hips tilt to slide him in.
The thick, angry head of his cock catches at your entrance and you push back, gasping at the stretch. Everything is heightened when you are pregnant. You are more swollen with the added blood flow, so it feels like you are taking for the first time again but with the extra sensations there is none of the pain only the pleasure from the stretch of his shaft on your walls.
Your jaw drops and you moan lowly as you feel him sink lower onto his knees, one arm cradling the weight of your belly before he thrusts the rest of the way into you.
"You fucking devil woman," he growls into your skin as he starts slow, shallow movements, loving the way your pussy flutters around him, squeezing as you work to accommodate his girth. "You feel so fucking good, baby girl."
"Harder, Chris, I need this,"
"If I do much more, this is all over before it begins."
"You know as well as I do that, that isn't true. You love it when I mil-" your head is turned into the pillows by Chris's hand on your jaw as he pulls back and slams into you. The rest of your sentence is screamed into the pillows as he fucks the way you begged for it.
Hard.
"Remind me to pad the fucking headboard tomorrow," he growls as his hips drive into you at a pace that makes the mentioned piece of furniture continue it's beat against the wall.
You're screaming and drooling into the pillows, sobbing his name as your pussy drenched your thighs and his. The way he has your hips angled has him against your gspot then deeper. The sounds your bodies make each time they collide echo around the walls and Chris smirks before his eyes widen and he grips your hips.
"Don't fucking do that again unless you want-," he groans into your neck as you clench hard around him. "Baby girl, I can't-,"
You tilt your head, "Christopher," the breathless way you said his voice before your climax hits you. Along with way your body rolls against his, your release sliding down your thighs to his, and the silent scream, sends him right over the edge into his own.
Growls of your name into your skin as he pumps his release deeper into you, a low whine leaves him as your walls flutter around his shaft.
With a soft whimper from you, Chris withdrawals from you and gently lays you on your side before he flops onto his back. Smiling, you reach out and rest your hand on his chest. Once you feel his heart rate starting to slow some, you're up and swinging one of your legs over to straddle him.
You whine softly as you settle yourself, core still that throbbing ache of emptiness, on Chris's lap. He groans and grips your hips, not to move you but for stability. "What do you need, baby girl?"
"You," with his hands on your hips, you finally remove the dress from your body, tossing it to the floor before your hands find his chest once again. "Always you, Chris."
"You're so fucking beautiful," his voice breaks off as he looks up at you. Your hair falls around you in wild waves, his favorite way to see it. There is a shine in your eyes from your releases, the flush on your cheeks and your neck, the way your lips are swollen from you biting or him kissing them.
The rest of your body is preparing once again for the child you are growing and he cannot help but be amazed by the power that holds over him. His fingers trail over your breasts which have always been sensitive but during these first few months you're extra responsive.
"Chris, baby, please." Your hips move so his hardening cock slides against your core.
He groans and nods, "ride me, baby girl. Take what your body needs." His fingers curl over the flare of your hips. "Use me, my beautiful wife."
You gasp out a thank you as he helps you lower onto his cock, a low hiss leaving his lips at the overstimulation. "You always feel so much bigger the second time, Chris." One of yours hands moves to his bicep, allowing you to sink him deeper into your clenching heat.
"You feel so fucking good, holy shit." He whimpers and presses up, letting his knees bend behind you. He plants his feet on the bed but allows you to control the pace now that you are fully seated on him.
The support of his strong legs behind you allows you to know that if you were to wobble he would catch you. Being held by his strong hands and backed by his thighs, you brace yourself on your knees and start to move. It's a slow drag of your swollen walls over the overstimulated shaft of his cock.
Soon, both of your hands are back on his chest and you are in a punishing rhythm for him. While you have angled your hips so his cock hits that one spot deep inside of you every time you take him, the way your walls are gripping his cock have caused Chris to release your hips in fear of hurting you with his grip.
It's a pain and pleasure situation, you feel so good wrapped tightly around him but there is a small electric sting that comes from the overstimulation and Chris has held it in as long as he could.
"Please, baby girl," he cries out a whine leaving him when you sheath him fully in your heat. You're grinding slowly on him, panting softly as you watch your husband heave for breath below you.
"Baby, I'm so sorry, you just feel so fucking good," your voice comes out breathless.
"You're going to make me cum again and I don't think I can hold it," he arches and groans as you start your punishing bounce again.
Shifting your hands, one looses it's place and slips to his collarbones, your thumb pressing to the pulse point on his throat. You smirk softly to yourself as you remember something from your early days of marriage.
"Don't hold it baby, cum for me, Christopher." Your hand shifts to curl your fingers around his neck, not squeezing but letting him feel. "Cum for me baby boy."
A large hand curls over your littler on, Chris's fingers adding pressure to his wind pipe, making your eyes widen. Your body tightens around him as he whines. Keeping your pace on him you bring both of you closer to your releases.
Chris hits his first, the soft gasp of your name has you releasing his throat. His following groan is loud and bounces off the walls back you as he thrusts deeply, his hips jerking as he fills you for a second him.
Your hips slow as you help him ride it out, leaning down to kiss over his chest. It only takes him a few moments but you soon find yourself on your back with your knees hooked over the bend of his elbow and his cock still buried inside of you.
"You are fucking incredible, you know that?" He smiles as he circles his hips against you.
A gasp leaves you as your jaw drops open, your hands gripping his biceps. "Oh my god that feel so good, Chris,"
Continuing the slow rotations of his hips, Chris leans down and kisses over your chest, softly dragging his tongue over your swollen nipples. You arch and one hand moves to cradle his head, your walls pulsing around his cock as it shallowly moves in and out of you.
Circling his tongue around the sensitive peak, he groans into your skin as your fingers tug on his hair. Gently he tests the waters and wraps his lips around it, suckling softly. Chris whines once again as his own release starts to creep down his spine, he feels yours dripping from you and soaking the bed below you.
"Christopher, don't stop-" you release a sound that causes him to twitch inside of you. "Please,"
Releasing your nipple he places a soft kiss to your sternum before treating the opposite breast to the same treatment. "Cum, for me baby girl." He closes his lips around your nipple once more and sucks, shooting that pleasure straight to your core.
"Chris," you sob his name as your climax washes over you in waves.
You've tightened so hard around his cock that when you grind down to pull him deeper, Chris is shoves right over with you once again. Your name is groaned into your skin as he litters kisses over any exposed skin he can reach as he thrusts into you once last time.
The burning, emptiness is finally gone and all you feel is the satisfied stretch of your husband still buried inside of you. Your fingers card through his hair as he slowly disentangles himself and kisses you. He swallows the gasp as your legs are stretched and relaxes against the bed.
"Give me two minutes and your bath will be ready," he whispers against your lips before he climbs off the bed and disappears into the bathroom.
"Chris?" He hears you call for him as he starts to fill the garden tub with hot water.
"Yeah baby?"
"Christopher."
Turning his head towards the bedroom, he feels his body shake slightly before your voice calls for him again and the bathroom in Australia disappears.
His eyes snap open and they meet yours. A concerned look in them as your hands rub over his arms. "There you are. You scared me."
Sitting up on the bed, he looks around to place where he is. "I'm at the dorm."
You nod and sit back as he rubs his hands over his face. "You got back from Italy and crashed here while I was working on Jeju." Your head tilts to the side. "Are you okay?"
He nods slowly before looking at you once again. “I can’t believe I slept that hard.”
“I would have just climbed in with you but when I got here, I passed Innie on my way and he said you were making sounds.” You smiled softly, “he wasn’t sure if they were mumbles or moans but he said you were breathing so he left.”
You both are silent for a while as Chris fully regains consciousness. His hands scrub over his face and then into his hair, musing the already wild curls. “It was all a dream." He whispers to himself before his hands reach out and slide over your waist, meeting your soft but very much not pregnant belly. "I can't fucking believe it."
Your hand reaches up to his before he leans forward and collapses into your arms. You cradle him to you, holding him close as he shakes softly, the emotion and release of the dream washing over him. "It's okay baby," your hands soothe over his back as his cling to your waist.
"It was the best dream," he pulls back to meet your eyes. His still red with the tears as he sighs heavily. "We were parents and you were carrying our third." Gently his fingers ghost over your stomach once again. "It was Father's Day and we had a house in Australia. It was on the beach."
Smiling, your hands cup his cheeks softly to wipe away his tears, "that sounds like our future baby."
"I want that so badly. With you." His bottom lip wobbles and his eyes fill once again before he buries his face in your neck, grounding himself in your scent.
Your face softens and you place a soft kiss to his temple. Carding your fingers through his hair slowly, you whisper “one day, baby. I promise that one day we will have our Australian beach house and child running around."
After he calms down, his face heats with embarrassment of his break down but also because of how uncomfortably wet his boxers are. “God, I haven’t done that since before we started dating.”
“What, baby?” You try to pull back to look at him but his arms tighten, keeping you in place.
He huffs it all out at once and you bite your bottom lip to keep in the satisfied smile
"So, you already-?"
“At least once.”
“Christopher,” you finally manage to get him to look at you and his eyes are darker than before but yours are too. He’s torn between embarrassed, disgusted, and so turned on his cock throbs painfully hard between you.
"Oh god please don't. You begged and were so needy in the dream." He groans as his subconscious recalls some of the scenes.
You smirk, the understanding in your eyes, "ah, the pregnancy hormones."
“Fuck you got so wet.” He flops back and presses the heel of his palms into his eyes. “I’m traumatized by the best thing that never even happened to me.”
You’re quiet for a minute before a whisper comes to his ears, “do you want me to leave you alone or do you want help?”
His cock jumps in his boxers at the sincerity in your voice. As much as he knows you want to tease him, you’re willing to step back and give him space to deal with the aftermath.
"I don’t know how much I can handle but fuck yes I want your help.” his face deepens in shades of red as he feels your weight settle over him, settling on his thighs.
"How about we find out together?" Your lips are at his jaw, down his neck. “Tell me what you want, baby boy.”
The words echo through his brain and the sound that leaves him is feral, unhinged but his hands only grip your bare thighs. He does not take charge, he leaves that for you. Your name leaves his swollen lips and you smile, knowingly.
Your voice is whispered across his lips as your hands travel up his rippling chest. "Let me make you a daddy." You kiss him and the battle is lost.
He whines and wraps you in his arms and crushes you to him as he returns the kiss. Chris groans into your mouth as your hips start to circle over his, giving you both the friction you crave.
"Oh baby boy," his neck flushes at the nickname as you tease him. "You're so hard for me already." You hold yourself up with your arms on either side of his head. "Was it that good?"
"You made me cum three times and you choked me." His ear are red and his eyes roll into the back of his head as you grind yourself against his cock.
"Well,” you gasp softly against his ear when you find your rhythm together, the ridge of his cock meeting your swollen clit through the soaked front of his boxers. “Happy Father's Day to you, baby boy."
A BOUQUET OF.. WHAT?! bf!jisung x fem!reader ꣓𑣿ྀི mentions of minho & condoms late bday gidt for @b4echo also this was half assed and i've never tried sexting with anyone before im sorry im a loser virgin who pulls no bitches
MY BOYFRIEND THINKS HES SPIDERMAN ───── kim ryul 𓂃 𓈒𓏸
SYNOPSIS always wondered what's it like to have a spider-man obsessed boyfriend? glad you're dating kim ryul also known as spideryul !
PROJECTS ᠀୧ ryul x f!reader — established relationship, humor, swearing, spiderman obsessed boyfriend, cringe overload, teasing, reader is lowkey ihatemybf, petnames
𐐂𐐚 spiderhyeon ! available to read .
───── ness : am i milking the spiderverse since i pushed out the spiderhyeon agenda and now im doing this with lngshot...? woops call me original -_- !! lmao i just thought this was cute !
summary; woojin’s been in his “i’m almost done” studio arc for way too long, ignoring sleep, food and reality. his members stage a rescue mission and send you in as the final solution. and it works… suspiciously fast..
warnings; fluff, forehead kiss, petnames
wc; 1,5k - requested
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“if he says ‘just one more hour’ i’m actually going to lose my mind,” ohyul groaned,
you had barely stepped into the room before getting dragged into what looked suspiciously like a team meeting.
“it’s been 3 days,” he continued,
“2 and a half,” ryul corrected,
ohyul slowly turned toward him, “do you want to fight?”
“not particularly,”
“then stop defending him.”
“i’m not defending him,”
louis was curled up on the couch, practically vibrating with amusement,
“this is the most passionate i’ve ever seen either of you,” you chuckled,
“woojin hasn’t come home properly in days,” ohyul complained, “he sleeps in the studio, eats in the studio, breathes in the studio-“
“that’s usually how breathing works,” louis interrupted,
“you know what i mean,”
you couldn’t stop laughing, “is the song really that good?”
the room immediately fell silent..
then everyone nodded,
“unfortunately,” ryul admitted,
“that’s the problem,” ohyul said, “because every time we tell him to take a break, he plays it for us and suddenly we’re like wow.. maybe stay another 12 hours,”
“he’s weaponizing talent,” louis agreed,
“he really is,”
ohyul pointed at you dramatically, “go get your boyfriend,”
“why me?”
all 3 of them stared at you
“right,” you said,
“exactly,”
the studio door was unlocked which honestly felt like a miracle,
music was playing quietly through the speakers when you stepped inside
woojin was sitting at his desk, hoodie on, headphones around his neck, completely focused on the screen in front of him,
he didn’t notice you,
or maybe he did?
because the second the door clicked shut behind you, he sighed,
“if you’re here to tell me to leave, i’m busy,”
“that’s a lovely greeting,”
woojin froze before slowly turning around and immediately smiled,
it happened so naturally that he probably didn’t even realize he’d done it
“oh,”
“oh?”
“hi,”
“hi,”
for a moment he just looked at you like he’d forgotten what he was doing then his eyes flicked back toward the monitor,
“you shouldn’t be here,”
“ok? rude?”
“not rude,”
“that sounded rude,”
“i mean it affectionately,”
“that’s not helping,”
he spun his chair around fully this time, running a hand through his hair,
“they sent you, didn’t they?”
“maybe,”
“traitors,”
“they miss you,” you giggle softly,
“they saw me yesterday,”
“for what? 10 minutes?”
“that still counts,”
you glanced around the room,
coffee cups, snack wrappers, a blanket thrown over the couch..
it genuinely looked like he’d moved in
“woojin,”
“don’t start,”
“you know exactly what i’m going to say,”
“because everyone keeps saying it,”
he dropped his head back dramatically, “i’m fine,”
“you haven’t left this building properly in days,”
“i’ve left the room,”
“to do what?”
“..important things,”
“name one,”
“..bathroom,”
you laughed and woojin pointed at you accusingly,
“don’t encourage this,”
“i’m not encouraging anything,”
“you’re judging me tho,”
“a little yes,”
“i can tell,”
despite his complaining, he reached out and hooked a finger around your wrist, gently pulling you closer until you were standing beside his chair,
he immediately rested the side of his head against your arm, completely subconsciously almost like he needed the contact but refused to acknowledge it,
“you’re distracting me,” he mumbled,
“i literally just got here,”
“that’s the problem,”
“that doesn’t make sense,”
“it does to me,”
you looked down at him, “awe look at you, you missed me,”
“obviously,”
“awe,” you giggled
“don’t do that,”
“do what?”
“make it weird,”
“you literally admitted it,”
“because i haven’t seen you in a while,”
he sounded annoyed about it which somehow made it sweeter,
you smiled and nudged his shoulder, “let’s go home,”
“no.”
“woojin,”
“baby,”
“come home,”
he groaned immediately,
the kind of groan that suggested he already knew he was losing,
“you sound exactly like ohyul,”
“that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me,”
“i know,”
“take it back,”
“no you take back me coming home,”
you gasped and he actually laughed,
“ok then i’m leaving alone,”
“no you’re not,”
“watch me,”
the second you moved toward the door, his hand shot out and caught the sleeve of your hoodie,
“stay,”
“that’s not a proper request,”
“i’m busy but i want you here,”
“you’ve been busy for 3 days,”
“and look how productive i’ve been,”
he clicked a few buttons and turned one of the speakers up, his new song filled the room
you listened and immediately understood the problem..
it was good, annoyingly good.
the kind of good that made you understand why he’d become completely obsessed with perfecting it,
when it ended, woojin looked far too pleased with himself,
“see?”
“it’s good but still doesn’t change the fact that you need food,”
“i had food,” he argued back
“a protein bar isn’t food,”
“that’s literally its entire purpose tho?”
“woojin,”
“baby,” he deadpanned
“real food,” you exaggerated
“you’re very demanding today,”
“and you’re living like a raccoon,”
“now you’re being rude,”
“am i lying tho?”
he considered it, “..a little,”
“exactly,”
for a moment the room fell quiet and woojin stared at the screen, then at you, then back at the screen
you could practically see the internal struggle happening which was honestly adorable.
“you know what’s really annoying?” he said finally,
“what?”
“i was doing great before you got here,”
“sure,”
“seriously,” he pointed at you, “now i keep looking at you instead of working,”
“that’s sounds like a you problem,”
“it is,”
“my thoughts and prayers for you my guy,”
woojin rolled his eyes before reaching over and pulling you down onto the couch beside him,
close enough that your shoulders touched.
“please stay,”
you sighed out loud,
“i’m serious,” he added
“why?”
“because if you’re here, you’re here,”
you giggled, “that doesn’t make sense,”
“it doesn’t have to make sense,”
his attention returned to the monitor for approximately 5 seconds before drifting right back to you,
you caught him and he immediately looked away,
“i saw that,”
“no you didn’t,”
“yes i did,”
“i was thinking,”
“about?”
“the song,”
“liar,”
“prove it,” he shot back,
“you literally forgot what screen you were looking at,”
“that’s lame evidence,”
you laughed so hard he started smiling too
and finally, after another few minutes, he let out a long sigh,
the dramatic and defeated kind, the kind you had been waiting for,
“what?” you asked,
“nothing,”
“woojin,”
“i hate when they send you,”
“why?”
he looked at you like the answer should have been obvious, “because i can easily ignore them,”
“that’s mean,” you giggled softly,
“it’s true,”
“and me?”
he immediately looked away which told you everything.
“right,” you chuckled a little satisfied if you asked him,
woojin groaned, “don’t look so happy about it,”
“awe does sassy woojin have a soft spot for me,” you laughed,
“unfortunately,”
“that’s cute,”
“it’s ruining my work spirit,” he groaned,
a few moments later he finally reached over and saved his project, closed the program and pushed his chair back,
you blinked, “oh? that didn’t take long,”
“don’t push it now,”
“awwwww,” you cooed,
“stop,”
“you actually listened,”
he stood up, stretching his arms over his head, “because if i don’t leave now, you’ll keep looking at me like that,”
“like what?”
“like i’m a lost puppy,”
“you kind of are,” you chuckled,
he grabbed his hoodie and tossed it over his shoulder, then leaned down and kissed the top of your head.
it was quick and casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world,
“let’s go,”
“where are we going?”
“home,”
“look at that,” you nod approvingly,
“don’t start,”
“i didn’t even say anything,”
“i can hear it in your voice,”
“i at least expected you to put up a little fight,”
“ok now i’m staying another 3 days,”
“no you’re not,” you laughed as he pulled you up from the couch,
and despite all his complaining,
despite the dramatic sighs and the endless excuses,
he kept one hand on your back the entire way out of the studio,
just to make sure you didn’t wander off and leave him behind,
somewhere between locking the studio door and reaching the elevator, woojin was already mentally preparing himself,
because the second the others saw him walking back into the dorm after refusing to leave the studio for nearly three days, they were going to be insufferable
especially when they realized you’d shown up less than 15 minutes ago,
ohyul was literally going to have a field day, louis would probably laugh so hard he’d start wheezing and ryul would never let him live it down..
and the worst part?
they were all going to be right
3 days of ignored phone calls, rejected food deliveries, intervention attempts and lectures,
all undone in roughly 10 minutes..
woojin glanced at you walking beside him and sighed,
“don’t look so pleased with yourself,”
“i’m not,”you smiled,
he immediately looked away trying to hide the smile creeping up on his face,
| ohyul x fem reader. genre: fluff, couple, humor.
“say ahh”, he said, extending the sushi to you.
you looked at him, frowning, slightly blushing, because you were in public.
“babe, not gonna do this”
“c'mon, just open your pretty little mouth.”
he kept the chopsticks still in the air, when he saw that you weren't going to accept, he made a pout.
“so I gonna have to do the airplane thing then?”
your eyes widened. “hyul, don't do this, don't-”
“here comes the little airplane!” he made a high-pitched voice as he brought the sushi back to you, like you were a little baby.
“kwon”, your face was redder than the salmon. you looked around. “kwon, stop it”.
“and the little plane is going to land, and it's going to land...”, he mimicked a wave motion with his chopsticks, raising his voice more and more, ignoring your protests.
as he drew closer to your mouth, he made a intimidating gesture with his eyes, reminding you that he could do a more dramatic scene. meaning, it was your choice.
knowing your bf, that's caused you to open your mouth and accept being fed.
you saw, his expression quickly changed, becoming all sparkly again, of feeding you. then he returned to his seat, with his chest slightly puffed out, as if he had fulfilled his duty.
you chewed and couldn't believe he had put you through that. in front of several people, where had cameras! but then, the feeling of affection and care came quickly, filling your chest. feeling loved, worthy of his stubbornness...
you looked at him as he prepared another sushi in the sauce. he looked up at you. he understood, giving a wide, confident smile, but still deep in tenderness.
so held out the chopsticks to you again, without imitating voices or anything. and you accepted it, liking more of it now.
drabble — chan can pretty much take everything, but not his ego.
You were insatiable.
That was the first thing Chan learned about you when you started dating, and months later it still left him breathless, addicted, and occasionally wrecked. No matter how many times he made you cum—on his tongue, his fingers, his cock—you always came back for more, eyes dark and body already humming with fresh need. Some nights you’d pounce the second he walked through the door, dropping to your knees before he could even set his bag down. Other nights you’d ride him for hours until sweat slicked both your bodies and his voice went hoarse from groaning your name.
He loved it. Most of the time.
Tonight, though, he was exhausted. You've been all over him for the rest of the day, that leaves him exhausted and dried. Too much for him to mive anymore.
Chan was sprawled on the couch in nothing but gray sweatpants, one arm slung behind his head, the other lazily curled around you as some action movie played on the TV. His thumb idly stroked your thigh, half-distracted. You were already worked up, again, pressing hot little kisses along his neck, guiding his free hand between your legs.
You weren’t wearing panties.
Two of his fingers sank easily into your soaked cunt, curling just the way you liked. You moaned softly against his skin, rocking your hips, chasing the friction. He pumped them steadily, thumb circling your clit, but his eyes stayed on the screen. You rode his hand harder, breath hitching, thighs trembling as you came with a quiet gasp.
But you didn't stop from riding his fingers, relentless amd desperate to reach another one of those orgasm he could give you. Once, twice, thrice more. But it wasn't enough. Of course, it wasn't enough. It won't be enough for you, Chan knowsbthat already, so eventhough his wrists aches from koving the same action over and over again, he still does everything he could to at least make you feel good, despite being exhausted.
So imagine his shock when suddenly you sat up, flushed and glassy-eyed, and kissed him once—deep and filthy—before pulling back away from him. Chest heaving up and down, that expression on your face he knows very well.
"You know how much I love you, yeah?" You hummed against his lips, although confused, Chan nodded his head.
"Great, so you wouldn't mind if I slip on our room and take care of myself? I love you, I really really do, but your hands doesn't do much for me right now. I needed something more. I promise, I'll be quick."
Chan blinked, a little dazed as you slipped off the couch and disappeared into your shared bedroom. The door clicked shut.
At first he just shrugged it off, adjusting his hardening cock in his sweats, as much as he wanted to help you out, his whole body is already aching. You were insatiable, yeah, but you’d come back. You always did.
Then he heard it.
The low, familiar buzz of your vibrator. Followed by your moan—loud, shameless, unrestrained.
Chan’s jaw tightened. Another moan, higher this time, and the wet, rhythmic sound of you fucking yourself with your toys. He could picture it perfectly; legs spread wide on the bed, one hand pinching your nipple while the other worked that thick silicone cock in and out of your dripping pussy, the vibrator pressed hard against your clit.
His ego took the hit like a punch to the gut.
What the fuck? After everything he gave you? Hours of him buried inside you, making you scream until your throat was raw, you still needed toys to feel satisfied? His hand wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough?
The vibrator’s intensity kicked up. Your moans turned into desperate, broken whimpers.
Something in Chan snapped.
He stood up fast, exhaustion vanished from him, replaced by fury. He felt his ego wounded, and stormed down the hall. He didn’t even knock. The door flew open.
You were exactly as he’d imagined. Naked, legs splayed obscenely, one of your thick dildos stretching your pussy while the vibrator buzzed mercilessly against your swollen clit. Your eyes flew open when he entered, lips parted on a moan.
"What— Chan!"
He was on you before you could finish his name. He ripped the toys away and tossed them aside with a clatter. You gasped as he shoved you flat on your back, yanking your thighs apart roughly. His sweats were shoved down just enough to free his aching cock—hard, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.
“Chan!” you shrieked.
“You think those silicone pieces of shit can fuck you better than me?” His voice was low, dangerous, all the usual softness gone. He lined himself up and slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.
You cried out, back arching sharply. He was thicker than any toy, and the sudden stretch burned so good.
Chan didn’t give you time to adjust. He fucked you like he was punishing you, deep, punishing strokes that made the bed creak and your tits bounce. One hand pinned your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.
“Hours,” he growled against your ear, hips snapping relentlessly. “I fuck you for hours and you still sneak off to let toys stretch this greedy little cunt? You're a disgusting whore.”
You could barely speak, only moan and sob his name as he railed you. Every thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside you, brutal and precise. He was so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
He pulled out suddenly, flipped you onto your stomach, and your hips up. He mounted you again, fucking you even harder from behind, one hand fisting your hair.
“Tell me,” he demanded, voice rough. “Tell me those toys will never be enough again.”
“It won’t—ahh—fuck, Chan—!” you cried, pushing back to meet his thrusts.
He reached around and rubbed your clit in tight, mean circles. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, walls clamping down around his cock so hard he groaned. But he didn’t stop. He fucked you straight through it, chasing his own release while you shook and drooled into the sheets.
When he came, it was with a guttural moan, burying himself as deep as possible and flooding you with hot, thick spurts. He stayed inside you, grinding slow and possessive, making sure every drop stayed right where it belonged.
He finally let go of your body after what felt like an eternity, collapsing beside you with a heavy, satisfied groan. His chest heaved, skin glistening with sweat, cock still twitching from the force of his release.
The second his grip loosened, you rolled onto your back, smiling up at the ceiling with hazy, half-lidded eyes. Your body was trembling, thighs sticky with his cum and your own arousal, but the lazy, blissed-out grin on your face said everything.
“I didn’t know you could do that…” you murmured dreamily, voice hoarse and dazed, still floating in the afterglow.
Chan froze. A deep flush crawled up his neck and across his cheeks. He groaned in pure embarrassment, throwing one arm over his face as he turned his head into the pillow.
“Shut up,” he muttered, voice muffled and mortified, though you could hear the hint of a shy laugh in it.
You let out a weak, satisfied laugh, your fingers lazily threading through his damp hair.
“Baby… that was so hot,” you whispered, still smiling dreamily. “I think I need you to get jealous of my toys more often.”
Chan groaned again, louder this time, his arm wrapped around your waist as he bury his face on your neck.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled to which made you giggle again and maybe let him rest for now because honestly, the exhaustion is starting to come over you now.
a/n: hi! hey, so i promise i am currently taking a rest. But after reading certain jjk fic i just had to do a similar thing to it. this was very much inspired to that sukuna smut i read that i forgot to save. i thought i shared it but turns out i didn't. please, if you know what fic i am talking about please tag the author so i could credit them properly. ANYWAYS. Just dropping this off and then see you all once i completely recovered. LOVE LOTS <333
