Nice to meet you! The name is Ara! 🤍

Just a 27 year old weirdo. I kind of write whenever I feel like it. (18+)

[faeprincess777]

🌸Ara's Masterlist🌸

Most fics here are very mature. Minors should beware.

❤️SKZ Masterlist 🩷

🩷Ateez Masterlist❤️

My Favorite Stray Kids Fics (Pt.2)(Pt.3)(Pt.4)

My Favorite Ateez Fics (Pt.2)(Pt.3)(Pt.4)(Pt.5)

❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

bandages

genre: fake texts

warnings: daddy content, pet names (girl, princess, baby) mentions of violence

an: oh boy this is bad (ur girl is rusty) but i couldn’t get this out of my head since i saw the clips so here ya go. now it’s out of my head ig. luv u

masterlist

everything posted here is entirely fiction and in no way represents any member of stray kids in reality

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[abiaswreck]

Full Moon Rut

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!Fem Reader

Summary: No more. You couldn’t sit and watch this abuse any longer. Fuck the internship. Fuck the potential job. Chan’s life should be more than the institution’s walls. He should be able to feel the grass under his feet and fresh air through his fur. It was a perfect plan except for one tiny detail: the full moon is here.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI with adult content. Monsterfucking, forced submission, nonconsensual sex/breeding, oral(f. receiving), knotting, size kink, a concerning amount of drool and cum. Captivity for research at the start. He’s nonverbal but of sound mind.

Word Count: 14,800 and some change

Author’s Note: Check the warnings! 2026 is the year of selfish writing(Thank you bestie, you know who you are.). Just go with the werewolf lore I made, okay? Monsterfuckers, enjoy. We're unedited because I'm sick and don't have spoons.

Umbra Xenobiology Solutions. A mouthful of a name plastered across a massive building on the edge of a sleepy college town. With its tall barbed-wire fences and small windows, the property gives off a prison-like atmosphere. Beneath the logo, a slogan glows in clean white letters: Research First. It was the first sentence on the website, in their brochures, and even in the billboard ads. A phrase polished, yet so secretive. 

For all their sleek professionalism, no one outside the walls actually knew what was being researched. The company released no public papers, no press statements, not even a single tour. Yet locals agreed on one thing: Umbra secured your future if they hired you.

You were no different from the thousands who applied the moment internships opened. You had the credentials. From glowing recommendation letters from professors who adored you, hundreds of volunteer hours logged and verified, fluency in sign language, and a double major. Psychology and speech pathology. A strange combination to some, but Umbra seemed to love it.

Two weeks after submitting your application, you learned why.

A lead executive assigned you to Project Fenrir, located on the fifth floor of the facility. The name alone conjured images of wolves; maybe it would be some behavioral study involving canines. You didn’t specialize in animal psychology, though you figured you could still be useful. Collect data and observe behavioral patterns. Nothing too complicated.

Then, after hours of legal paperwork to swear confidentiality, they handed you a stack of files.

Right there, printed in bold black ink on the top, was a species you had never seen in any textbook: Homo sapiens lycanthropus.

A lycanthrope, or more commonly known as a werewolf. 

A creature you had only ever encountered in folklore listed in a clinical font as if it were just another primate subspecies. Umbra had discovered them. Several, judging by the spreadsheet on page ten that listed more than a handful of subject numbers. All tucked away behind reinforced doors and layers of non-disclosure agreements.

Now you would work with one.

Today is more of the same. Half a leftover breakfast sandwich and straight black gas station coffee that had sat too long in the pot filled your stomach. You donned a soft, cozy sweater to keep you warm in the lab, paired with nice black dress slacks to keep it as professional as a college graduate can. The sound of your heels is the only noise in the long hallway after the first security clearance. Once past the second door, you’ll reach the offices. You barely spend time in your assigned cubicle. Usually emails in the morning, typing up all your session notes after lunch, and answering another round of emails that dropped in after observation hours. 

However, Doctor Richardson is a new addition to your routine today. 

He stands at your desk, in conversation with another associate. You don’t even know their name. Everyone here keeps to themselves, heads down, focused on work, trying to mind their own to stay off the board of director’s radar. The money Umbra paid for your silence could fulfill even the wildest of dreams, and only a fool would risk their job security.

If a company can buy your devotion, what can they do when you are a threat?

Probably a question you should have focused on instead of being lost in the daze of numbers on your first paycheck. 

You clear your throat as you close the remaining distance to your desk. “Good morning, doctor. Are you here for me?”

“Ah! Exactly the person I was waiting for.” He answers with a smile. “I was going to join you on your climb upstairs.” He supplies, tucking his hands into his long white lab coat. “If that’s not too much trouble?”

“No,” you answer, shaking your head lightly. “Let me put down my jacket, and we can go. I don’t want to keep you.”

“It’s appreciated.”

Even if Doctor Richardson is your supervisor, you don’t see him in person often. You met him once on your first day, then a handful of times throughout the months. Most of your interactions are his brief replies to your long emails. Though his showing up today causes your heart rate to spike. You approached the board of directors with a request, and perhaps they have reached a decision. Surely if it was a no, it would have been an email response. 

Quickly, you move around him. Jacket placed on the back of your chair, lunchbox placed momentarily on your desk as you reach for a slotted tote bag next to your computer. Inside are your notepads, pens, a folder of worksheets, and two children’s books. All materials issued by the facility are required to remain on the property. Even a single pen leaving with you will result in termination.

It takes a second to double-check all the supplies are still inside your bag. The lunchbox you brought slides in perfectly at the top. You offer a weak smile, slinging the straps of the bag onto your shoulder. “After you, doctor."

Doctor Richardson spins on his heel, leading the way to the ominous elevator sitting at the end of the maze of cubicles. You follow eagerly as if his own shadow and as silent as one, watching him tap his name badge against the reader. The two rows of buttons for each floor light up thanks to his expanded access. He presses on floor five, where your subject resides. It’s different when you use your badge; only one floor will be accessible. From eavesdropping, you learned that each floor is a designated project for the company. It helps with organization and keeps people’s clearance simple. 

The soft ding from the elevator announces your arrival on the floor. Doors open, and the environment differs from downstairs. Gone are the carpeted floors, the stationed cubicles, the vending machines, and the break room that make the workplace appear like any other office setting. Up here is more clinical. White hallways with harsh fluorescent lighting. Tiled floors that shine with pristine care. Which is expected for a facility that has experiments. 

Instead of a laboratory, there are rooms. No, isolation cells. There are eight on this floor. Every cell has large, wide one-way windows, revealing every single one houses a werewolf under Project Fenrir. You guys stop in front of the cell you spend most of your time in. 

Doctor Richardson finally expands on why he visited you in person today. “I just wanted to say the board thinks you’re doing wonderful with subject 325. As a result, we’ve permitted your request.”

Time stops for you. As his words take hold, your breath catches in your throat. The request was approved by the committee. It actually got approved. You asked for extended teaching sessions with the subject, stating the more comfortable he was, the more progress you could make with his lessons. 

Subject 325 responds well to you. The exact words Doctor Richardson used on multiple occasions. As much as that is true, the werewolf only prefers you because you don’t poke and prod him for bloodwork. Unlike the scientists, you don’t push him to his limit with strength and endurance tests. You don’t call him by his computer-generated subject number. 

No, you call him by his name, the one you worked with him to learn. 

“Now,” Richardson retrieved a small electronic card from his pocket. A special access name badge with a built-in keycard just for you. One to use whenever you want instead of being forced to request entry from security. He offers it to you, continuing to speak in a firm tone. “With this responsibility, you may extend your time with him only if he continues to improve. If he declines, we will revoke the card. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, nodding while taking the card. “Thank you and the board for the consideration. I won’t disappoint you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You have real potential here. Keep up that great work, and perhaps one day you can join those on the committee.”

Your gaze isn’t even on your supervisor anymore. It’s locked onto the windows of Chan’s so-called room. There is no way he can see you two, nor hear you, and he sure as hell shouldn’t be able to smell you with the level eight bulletproof glass separating you. He’s a specimen, kept from the elements and most contaminants. 

Regardless of what you know is impossible, Chan perks up from where he sits, gaze boring into the window where you stand. Despite the strong fluorescent lights, his eyes were wide, pupils expanded so much that only a small part of the brown was noticeable. He rises to his feet a second later, face full of confusion, glancing between the digital clock on the wall and back to the window. It’s too early for you to be here. You come around his scheduled lunchtime at noon. Currently, it’s only a little after nine. 

The werewolf hesitantly takes steps toward the window. It’s not the same movement as if he were sneaking up on prey; it’s more cautious. Maybe concerned that he won't find what he's looking for on the other side of the glass.

A speaker above you crackles with the sound of whining. Chan is growing distressed. The rise and fall of his chest is shallower than before as his breathing becomes quicker, not quite hyperventilating but close. Although the key card consists mostly of thin hard plastic, it feels heavy in your hand. You could go in there right now to confirm Chan’s suspicions. However, you remain rooted to your spot, observing the new behavior. 

Chan begins to pace. Bare feet padding to the door and back to the window. It’s frantic, reminiscent of how your dog circles back and forth from the front window to the door, excited that you’re finally home after a long day. 

It’s confirmed. 

He knows it’s you. 

Somehow he knows and is growing impatient. 

“Sir,” you say with a polite smile on your face. “I apologize for cutting this conversation short, but I’d like to get there and get started.”

“Oh, of course," he answers, giving one last glance at Chan. A hint of disgust crosses his features before he reins his true feelings back in. You don’t call him out; instead, let him say his parting words. “Keep in mind what we’ve discussed. If you have any concerns, please reach out to us.”

And then what? 

Your so-called ‘concerns’ go ignored again? You fought multiple times with the head of security over the forced sedation. Chan only reacts violently to the medication because he’s terrified. Then he wakes up with lost time and less trust. None of this helps his temperament. 

The real question is, how can you look at Chan and be proud of the work you do? Just because you don’t hurt him doesn’t mean you help him. You are an accomplice to everything that happens. Arguably, the worst person out of everyone because of your kindness. 

This is not a life here for Chan or any of the creatures stuck here. He’s a bug under a microscope of people who couldn’t care about his happiness. 

If anything, you can at least try to make Chan’s day better. 

With a swipe of the new card, the chamber door opens. Chan backs away out of precaution, in case it’s not you. It wouldn’t be the first time security has come in to collect him with tasers out, looking for any excuse for conflict. 

His lips curl up into a wide smile, a dimple popping up on one side of his cheek. The tense shoulders relax now that he knows it’s safe. Still, he doesn’t move until you step inside and the heavy metal door shuts and locks back into place. 

Chan is upon you a second later, arms wrapped tight around your body, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His cold nose presses against your skin as he inhales the scent there. A range of vanilla from the shampoo you use, the jasmine in the body wash, and white lily from a perfume paired with your own natural scent. Despite his human form, he holds onto a lot of canine traits. Scent is a primary one based on the research you read. It helps them hunt, sense danger, and find their way back to each other. 

For him, your combination melds together, reminding him of his freedom, of his home away from this awful place. Reminds him of simpler times of waking up to a sun cresting over the mountains as he lies in the grass. So you allow him to remain in your hold, seeking solace in the comfort your scent brings him. 

You force yourself to think of anything else, not wanting to cry about his captivity once more. Those moments are for when you can’t sleep at night as your moral compass haunts you. Not here when the werewolf in front of you needs a distraction. 

Rather than sitting in negative thoughts, you focus on Chan. He settled on a clump of white fur stuck in the fibers of your otherwise red sweater. A soft giggle slips through your lips. “Do you smell Henry? I swear I can’t get all the dog hair off.”

Chan pulls away without a response, moving to the table in the middle of the room. Two chairs sit on either side. It’s where most of the lessons take place. The blank paper and crayons are scattered on top. It appears he finally caved and started drawing since you left yesterday. 

You come closer, thanking him for the way he pulls out your chair like a gentleman, sitting you down for dinner. He moves around the table, plopping down in his own chair. With a blue crayon in hand, he writes in legible and precise handwriting that he’s practiced for hours with you on the top of a blank sheet: Why are you here so early? 

“I got some good news for us.” You reply while placing your tote bag at your feet. “I talked to some of the higher-ups, and they’re allowing me more time with you. You’ll be seeing me more.”

Chan smirks before jotting down another sentence: I’ll have to check my schedule.

“Don’t be a brat!” You say with playful anger. It’s nice seeing more of Chan’s personality shine through after all this time. Hopefully, this means he’ll be more receptive to your learning plan. “But this means I need you to try harder, okay?”

His smile falters. A loud sigh fills the room as he dramatically throws his head back. It’s understandable; he’s tired of the routine. Language lessons, speech therapy, and sign language practice. Day in and day out. He’s come so far, but not to Umbra’s standards yet. 

“Chan, I mean it.” You say, leaning forward to place your hand over his. “That's why they’re allowing it.” Your voice gets softer, pulling his attention back to you. “Plus, don’t you want to talk to me?”

He finds his crayon to scribble across the paper once more: I talk to you. 

“With your mouth, Chan. I know you have a beautiful voice. I want to hear it.”

A few specialists above you have examined Chan. His vocal cords are intact and developed. He can scream, hum, and groan just fine. There is no reason he shouldn’t be able to speak. At first, you assumed he didn’t want to. Umbra took him from his home, and now he is a prisoner. No one in his circumstances would want to chat. Selective mutism was another possibility. Being in a foreign place, he doesn’t feel safe. The anxiety or fear could be triggering him, resulting in him being unable to speak even if he’s comfortable with you. If that’s the case, then he may never find his voice. 

Part of you holds out hope it'll happen. 

For now, you will continue the lessons. The sign language is slow going, but Chan picks up unfamiliar words. He knows the main language the company uses and can transcribe it thanks to you. You have normal conversations every day with him as if he were a regular man at his age. 

He's not a fool, though. 

When interviewed or interrogated by board members, he will respond with simple answers. There is no elaborating. There is no communication about himself or others of his kind. Chan is protecting his species. He is well aware of what these humans want, and the last thing he’s going to do is endanger anyone else to these monsters. This protection extends to you as well. You are part of this company. Chan may have more trust in you than the rest of the humans, but he is aware of who you answer to. He shuts down the more you press to find out, building up those walls to keep himself secure. 

Though in times like today, you get brief glimpses when you peek through the cracks. Your eyes scan over the images Chan drew. There are eight wolves in total. Each with different fur colors and markings. Chan has mixed shades of crayons to differentiate them all. 

You pull the page closer to you. “I’ve never seen so many wolves together.” 

The page you hold has a thin, nimble, yellow wolf. He’s followed by an orange one that’s a tad larger. Then two brown wolves appear to be playing together. The only difference is that one has red spots along its fur. 

You move to the other page. Another yellow wolf that Chan clarifies is actually white. It’s playing with two grayish wolves, and finally, at the bottom is a large black wolf watching over the entire group. Chan extends his hand, pointing at the lone wolf and then to himself. 

“Oh?” You smile at him, understanding what he’s trying to communicate. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

Chan’s plush lips curl up in a smile as he nods. The mood in the room shifts a few seconds later; broad shoulders sink as his smile falls. Chan stares at the drawn wolves with a sense of longing. He lets out a shaky breath, focusing fully on himself to collect his bearings. 

Part of you wants to change the subject. Get his mind off ‌his loneliness. De-escalate his emotions to an easier topic. However, the looming presence of the company is so loud in the silent room. You have to push for the answers they want. If you don’t, Chan is going to lose the one thing he can take for granted will be for him in this hellscape. 

You lean over the drawing, fingers brushing along one of the smaller brown wolves. “Who is this? Are they part of your family?”

He ponders his answer, head tilting to the side. You watch silently as he draws lines to connect each of the wolves together but places a little ‘x’ on each of the lines. The very first symbol he learned is for no. The wolves are connected, just not as a family. 

You attempt to supply an answer. “Are they your pack? Is that it?”

Chan’s eyes light up at the word. He makes a fist with his hand, moving it up and down a couple of times: yes. 

The lump in your throat is hard to swallow. Your body is fighting to keep the words from leaving your lips. “Did you let yourself get caught so your pack would be safe?”

Chan’s expression shifts, lips turning down into a grimace, and nods. He’s so selfless, the more you think about it. The werewolf formed a pack and became a leader, losing everything to protect his own with no idea about their well-being. He sacrificed himself, and now he’s a lab rat being tested on.

“I’m sorry, Chan.” You reply, fighting to keep your voice stable. “I know it’s hard being here.”

Chan reaches for the crayons once more. His frame hunches over ‌his drawing. You sink back in your chair, observing the character he adds to his image. This time it’s a human, one with a red shirt and black pants, the very same colors you currently are wearing, placed right next to his wolf. He circles them with a green circle and then draws an arrow from his feet towards the edge of the sheet. Once Chan finishes, he sits back, eyes on you. 

“You want me to take you somewhere?” You ask curiously. Chan’s arm raises, and he points towards the door. In response, you attempt again to say what he wants so that you understand. “You want me to take you out of the room?”

Chan lets out a moan and gestures toward the door once more, with more aggression. Then it all clicks together. Freedom. Pain blossoms in your heart like a bruise. He wants his freedom. Your voice comes out softer. The cameras recording are going to pick it up regardless, but still you try. “You want me to take you away from here?”

The werewolf nods. He places his dominant hand against the center of his chest and rubs in a circular motion to sign a word: Please. 

“Chan, I can’t. They’ll hurt you and then hurt me if I try.” You sigh as you respond. As though a strongman showing off his muscles, Chan lifts his arms in a flex. He follows it up with chomping his teeth. It’s not enough. You give a headshake. “Honey, you're weaker in this form. The security has padding and weapons.” 

The sound of a shutter door opening and closing provides a perfect segue for the conversation to shift. “Here, let’s change the subject and have lunch. You’re hungry, right? I’ll grab your food.”

Chan exhales in a huff, offended that you would offer to get the tray. He stands while placing a firm hand on your shoulder to push you back down into your chair. The look of disbelief remains on his face as he crosses the room to where a deposit box sits for his cell. 

You roll your eyes when he's not looking. He often refuses to let you help him. For his species, many of them are hyper-independent. Typically, the pack will hunt separately, but the alpha will drag food back for those who are ill or too old to fend for themselves. Even if he doesn’t hunt anymore, the collection of the tray is still his responsibility. 

He joins you once more, eager to see what the staff has given him. When in human form, werewolves can adopt an omnivore diet. However, in order to keep their strength, higher protein levels must be maintained. If the company does nothing else right, Umbra recognizes and accepts that.

Chan is giddy when seeing the slab of cooked meat when lifting the metal cloche, keeping the food warm. He’s less interested in the steamed carrots and boxed juice. Still, you encourage him. “There’s a new juice to try. It's a mixed berry.”

Immediately, he places the juice next to you, a scowl etched on his face. You giggle in response before placing it back on his tray. “Hey now, it doesn’t necessarily mean there are blueberries in there.”

His upper lip curls up in a snarl. There is no aggression against it, only playful banter. It keeps your heart warm as you retrieve your own lunch. On occasion, Chan will be curious about the food you bring. He mostly critiques that you don’t have enough meat and says there should be far fewer plants. Despite hating most of your diet, he gets excited on days you bring in something new he hasn’t heard of. His personal favorites so far are fresh strawberries and the chocolate pudding cups you occasionally bring. 

“Today is a special day for us. It's been a year since I’ve met you, so I brought you something.” You say with a soft smile. Chan’s head lifts when you open the plastic container. There’s an unfamiliar smell for him. His nose crinkles ‌curiously as he sniffs the air. “We call it pineapple. I don’t know if you’ll like it. The fruit grows with a tough skin, and this yellow part is acidic. It’s how the fruit protects itself.”

Cautiously, Chan reaches for a piece to plop in his mouth when the container is offered. He chews for a second before his eyes go wide and his face lights up. Both hands rise up immediately, fingers opening and closing repeatedly to demand more of the pineapple.

You giggle, handing the fruit over to him. “I knew you’d like it. Have all of it.”

Chan accepts the fruit with a content hum to himself. The smile stays glued onto your face to where your cheeks hurt. He’s come so far with his temperament. When you first worked with Chan, he refused to acknowledge your presence. You were beneath him, not worth his time. He wouldn’t even glance over when you sat at the table in the center of the room. Every day you state why you were there in a calm voice and wait for the allotted session time to end. Nearly two agonizingly long weeks of the same thing passed until Chan realized you weren’t going anywhere. 

The first time he sat across from you, his demeanor was the opposite of today. His eye contact burned through you with the heat of the sun to intimidate you. The broad frame sat like a rock with how tense he was. He waited, almost ready to pounce, listening to you explain why you were here. Even after that, he still wouldn’t move or react, assuming some sort of trick was being played. Everyone else here hurt him, so he assumed it was only a matter of time until you would. 

The door to the isolation room opening pulls you from your memories. Chan is already on his feet before anyone steps in. He places himself between the door and your sitting frame, creating a wall of protection. The behavior is instinctual. He's ensuring that the food you hunted, or in this case brought, isn't taken away from you. A low growl from him fills the room as four security guards walk in. 

The electrical hum of tasers being turned on causes you to shoot out of your seat, knocking the chair over. Your voice rises with the anger coursing through you at the immediate hostility. “We’re having lunch!”

“It’ll have to wait," one man answers. “325 is needed upstairs.”

When you attempt to pass Chan to defend him, he simply pushes you back with brief acknowledgment. Dread quickly fills you when the group of men comes closer. This isn’t going to end well. Your voice becomes desperate when you speak. “He fights because you use aggression! He’ll behave if you ask him!”

“We’ll take it up with Richardson.”

It’s hard to tell who strikes first. The room erupts in a fit of screaming. Chan manages to tackle one guard despite two tasers connecting with his skin. Another hooks his arm around Chan’s neck to cut off his air supply, forcing him to let go so he can claw at the padded forearm. 

“Chan, don’t fight!” You cry out, tears running down your cheeks, hearing his choking gasps. “Don’t hurt him! Please!”

It takes all four men to subdue Chan. At some point in the scuffle, one of the security guards pulled out an emergency tranquilizer. He sticks Chan right in the meaty part of his biceps. The werewolf immediately settles in their hold, growing weak. His eyes roll back into his head, his body becoming limp and easier for the men to manhandle. 

The group exits with the werewolf in tow, leaving the cell quiet minus your panicked breathing. Today is a breaking point. Umbra isn’t doing anything for the sake of science here. Chan doesn’t deserve this. You need to get him out of here. Even if it’s the last thing you do. 

The plan for Chan's escape took months to come to fruition. Initially, the idea of breaking him out seemed impossible. Doors with double key card access, security cameras and alarms, and an imposing 8-foot perimeter fence topped with extensive barbed wire. 

What if you could walk him out?

The longer you observed how the company operated, the more you noticed little cracks in the framework. Associates finished mundane tasks haphazardly. Because of time restraints and security's laziness, some records are forged. Everyone was comfortable in their position. As long as the board of operatives received the requested results, no one batted an eye. 

No one would watch a new intern who already proved their compliance. 

Especially on a government holiday that most of the staff took off, minus a handful of security. Two in particular that you spent the last week flirting with guard the entrance you wanted to use. You also learned that security has clearance to open all cells to help staff. There would be no need to use your keycard left at your desk. These two guards would also be the only ones at this end of the building. It would be a shame if you slipped sedatives into the break room coffee and offered them both a cup while batting your eyelashes. 

Not even two minutes after consuming the tainted coffee, both men dropped like sacks of potatoes, feet crumbling underneath them. You didn’t hesitate, reaching for both key cards clipped to their belts. The plan was proceeding as intended. You left the break room straight to the elevator up. All the motions were a blur until the doors chimed on your arrival on the fifth floor.   

Even if it was the same floor you knew, it was darker this time around. Not all the artificial lights were in use, and the lack of workers left the silence deafening. Your feet barely connected with the floor, the balls of your feet only touching long enough to propel you down the hallway quickly. As you arrive at Chan’s chamber, that's when the rush of the entire plan finally courses through your body. Shaky fingers of yours fumble to grip the key card correctly. The red error light only stirs agitation in you. You don’t have room for mistakes. It's impossible to know how long the security guards will remain unconscious. The longer this process takes, the higher the chance of others catching wind. 

You take a deep breath before sliding the keycard once more. This time, you successfully opened the door. An automated message plays, the very one heard a million times, telling everyone to stand clear. You don’t wait long, forcing yourself to prop against the doorjamb where the sensor will recognize a human is blocking it and refuse to close.   

Chan is in a corner of his room, finishing a set of pushups. He rises to his feet, face contorting into a look of surprise at seeing you. He’s shirtless, with the pajama pants issued to him hanging low on his hips. His skin was flushed red from his ears to his hips. Sweat dripped from his messy curls on his head. Veins in his arms are more pronounced thanks to his ongoing workout that you interrupted.  

He’s a carved god. 

He’s beautiful. 

Your breath hitches the longer you take him in. Some sort of feeling twists in the pit of your gut. A foreign feeling that may not be nerves; rather, it’s some attraction you still battle with to keep your relationship professional. You mentally fight to shut down any distracting feelings. That’s not why you are here. You need to pull it together and get him out of here. 

You force yourself to speak. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The werewolf’s feet remain glued to the floor. He lets out a chirp while scanning the wall clock before returning his gaze to you. With a raised eyebrow, he seemed to ask why you were here. It’s late, he’s already had dinner, and no tests run into the evening. 

“Chan,” you say firmly. “We don’t have time. Come with me.”

His head shakes, feet shuffling backwards, further into his room, until the backs of his calves knock into the base of his bed. A small noise of distress leaves him. He knows to be suspicious. This could be a trap, another test to check how obedient he is. 

“Please, Chan. You wanted out, right?”

He clenches both hands into fists, extending his index fingers. One digit strikes the other, signing a word: Can’t. 

“Yes, you can," you plead, trying to keep your frustration in check. He’s scared. Of course, he’s scared. You told him what would happen if he tried to leave. Still, you insist. “We must leave now. We won't get another chance."

He never sees you acting aggressively or in distress. When he struggles with every aspect of his daily lessons, you have never yelled at him or shown your annoyance. Here you are now, acting in a way that is unfamiliar to him. Another high-pitched, panic-tinged whine emerges from the back of his throat. It’s a wretched noise you wish never to hear again. 

He wants to trust his favorite human. 

God, he wants to. 

Yet, he doesn’t move. 

An automated voice comes from above you. “Please keep all cell doors clear.”

You can’t hold the door open for much longer. The defense system is seconds away from kicking in. Not only will cell doors shut, but all hallways will lock regardless of security clearance. Then you two will be trapped, and the security guards in the next tower will receive an alert. 

“Chan, come on.” You say while maintaining eye contact with him. There’s no telling what the company will do, and you don’t want to find out. The words you speak are more honest than they’ve ever been. “If we don’t go now, they’ll kill both of us.” 

The threat to your safety gets him moving. He quickly shuffles his bare feet on the tile. You extend your hand with a smile. “Yes! Good boy. A few more steps.”

His large palm is warm in yours. Your grip tightens as you turn on your heel to drag him along to the elevator. Even though you may use this hallway almost daily, the same few steps seem three times as long tonight. Chan continues to follow closely behind you, whining every few breaths. You want to comfort him, offer words of reassurance, or do anything to keep him quiet as you focus on getting him outside.  

On the ground floor, you are not greeted by either security guard. It’s a clear shot out of the building now. You tap both keycards on the sensor; a green light flashes, and the sound of the door unlocking rewards you. Chan finally realizes his freedom is achievable. The large, clear doors reveal the setting sun lowering behind the woods surrounding the building. He picks up speed, dragging you along to the last door. His whines shift into small, nervous hums as he waits for you with the cards. His eyes are wide, desperate that this isn’t some sick joke. The rise and fall of his chest quickens as you tap the last sensor. 

One door automatically opens. You drop the keycards at your feet and lead the werewolf through the threshold. The outside world is beautifully quiet. No cars on the interstate running parallel to the building. No birds chirping or annoying chittering insects. If anyone stepped out, all they would hear would be the two heartbeats pounding rabidly from the adrenaline of possibly being caught and the thrill of a successful escape. 

Now you have to create distance. 

Even if Chan could run free, far from this place, he stays in pace with you despite being barefoot. In no time are you two panting from exertion, and still you run deeper and deeper into the woods, determined to leave the facility until it’s nothing more than a tucked-away memory. 

Temporary safety is a crumbling cabin four miles south of the lab. The heat of the sun has long set below the horizon, plummeting temperatures low enough to make the tips of your ears hurt. Moonlight shines brightly through the breaks in the leaves, illuminating parts of the forest floor. 

The second part to secure Chan’s release happens now. You would wait here, collect your breath for a few minutes, and then head to the back where you stored a vehicle. Then you would be on the road, creating a larger gap and hopefully a trail the company will struggle to track. 

You scoped this location out weeks ago thanks to an aerial view you searched on an online map database. Storing the car was even easier. Whoever owned the property clearly considered the small buildings condemned and let time hopefully bring them to the ground instead of wasting resources. It was perfect. 

The inside of the cabin is dark. A few pieces of furniture long forgotten litter around the one-room cabin. You left a small battery-operated lantern when you brought the car. However, the light it throws falls short of any actual distance. It doesn’t matter; you don’t need it for long. Just until the cramp in your side goes away.

Chan hasn’t made much noise since entering the forest. He kept his head low, not even signing a response when you asked about his feet hiking in the woods. He used to tell passionate stories of running with his pack back home. No one was faster than him. His body could handle any terrain. Despite knowing all of that, you asked to be polite. A test to see where he is emotionally about being free. You expected excitement or a sense of drive to leave you behind to start a long journey home, even if he didn’t know where to start. There’s neither, just blind following as if he were a lost puppy. 

“We won’t be here long, okay?” You say more to yourself. 

Chan still doesn’t acknowledge you. He leans against one wall, eyes still trained on the ground. It could be in shock the more you think about it. A fight-or-flight response that is tied to his survival mode. It’ll have to run its course through his body. Once on the road, he can get some sleep, and that’ll help him relax. 

You kick off your shoes with a huff. Unlike Chan, the soles of your feet ache. All that time planning Chan’s freedom, and you forgot the one key detail of putting on a pair of athletic shoes that could withstand the hike. Tomorrow there will be several large blisters. Future you can worry about it later. 

A painful cry comes from behind you. You spin on your heel to see Chan slightly bent over, both arms wrapped around his middle. His jaw is clenched with a pained groan filling the room. Whatever is troubling him is getting worse. 

“Channie,” you ask, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?” 

A snarl slips past his lips as he finally meets your eyes. The angry gaze halts you just shy of touching him. His pupils shrink and expand repeatedly as if unable to adjust to the low light from the lantern. He’s begun to pant as fresh perspiration covers his forehead. 

“What is it? How can I help?”

Chan shakes his head, violently conveying a no. He doesn’t want help? You can’t help? Is it an effect of a test today out of anyone’s control? Maybe he needs to rest, sit, and let whatever is happening pass. 

His skin burns under your palm when you try to offer reassurance. Words don’t leave your lips, trapped in your throat at the sudden shove from Chan. The force he used is stronger than you expected, resulting in you landing on your ass across the room. He now has full-body trembles as his brown eyes frantically scan the room. You don’t need your ‌years of studying to recognize his behavior. He’s looking for an out, a way to get space away from you. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

Then, like a lightbulb turning on above your head, it all connects. 

He’s shifting. 

A full-body shift? 

That only means one thing. 

Your eyes land on your smartwatch as you bring your arm closer. Fingers tremble opening the calendar. Right there on tonight’s date confirms your worst fear. It has one added icon: a full moon.

No. No. No. 

You broke Chan out on a full moon. 

His hesitation back at the lab makes sense now. 

Chan wasn’t afraid of leaving. 

He was afraid of shifting while near you.

Chan’s noises become more distressed as he kneels. Howls of pain bounce off the walls of the small cabin as each of his limbs twists at unnatural angles. Bones snap loud as thunder, shifting under the skin to extend. Patches of black fur push through the layers of skin, slowly expanding to cover his body. Long, sharp, black nails extend out of his hands, forming claws that dig into the wood, easily scraping through the material as if tearing through a ripe peach. 

You watch in horror, paralyzed by the way his teeth extend into fully elongated canines. The familiar face shifts next, contorting as his snout extends and ears on the top of his head form. It takes nearly two minutes for the full transformation to occur. One you have only seen pictures of until now. Senior staff were the only ones permitted to observe full transformations behind several walls of glass to be safe. 

Plumes of air rise in the cold temperature around his mouth as he pants like a dog. His fully formed tail lightly sways behind him while the werewolf is taking stock of his being. Golden eyes scan the room before settling on your quivering body. 

“Chan?” You ask, voice timid. 

His head tilts to the side. Recognition, you hope. The stack of files never mentioned coherency during shifts. Chan wasn’t part of that study. He could be in this beast form and aware of you in front of him. Or, maybe he’s tucked far away, as the animal has its own independence. Regardless, this is a dangerous situation. One that you must tread carefully. 

The werewolf takes a step. Then another, slowly crawling to close the distance between the two of you. Your eyes focus on the floor, avoiding direct eye contact. Thoughts race in your head as you try to remember more of the information you consumed in his file. Werewolves share mannerisms with other species of canines. It could help you now. Avoiding eye contact is the first big tip you learned. Some species interpret direct eye contact as a threat or an initiation to challenge them.  

Warm breath fans over the crown of your head when Chan stops in front of you. His claws rest on either side of your thighs. Up close, you notice the way his onyx nails start deep in the nail beds, extending nearly two inches where the tips of his fingers once were. Your stomach sinks at the thought of damage he could do. 

Play this safe, you tell yourself. 

Slowly, you tilt your head to the side to expose more of your neck. Sweat from the journey clings to your skin, dotted right along your collarbone despite the cooler weather. Chan should be able to smell your natural body odor. Several breeds of canines can tell pack mates from their scent. Werewolves are similar in that regard as well. 

You gasp lightly at the faint brush of his nose in the crook of your neck. As motionless as a statue, you let him breathe you in for as long as he wants. Your daily ritual, he remembers. He should know it's you even if the wolf is in control. He’s spent the most time ‌with you out of everyone on the project. 

A surprise headbutt against your chest sends you falling backwards. Your head connects with the harsh wood, sending a sharp pain through the back of your skull down to your spine. The werewolf yips a playful sound with another head tilt. To his credit, you could argue he’s trying to play with you. 

Chan’s right hand presses down on your stomach before you can sit back up. The jutting claws dig through the thin shirt straight into your skin, just enough to be a warning. Stay where you are. Because if you don’t, a bit more pressure and your skin will tear as if it were paper.

In the next second, you cry out at the harsh tug on your waistband. The fabric of your jeans and underwear rips cleanly down. Out of reflex, your legs try to close at the first instance of cold air against your skin. Except Chan is quicker, using his wide chest to keep your most intimate area exposed to him. 

“Chan, what…?” Your words trail off. With gentle, controlled hands, your fingers wrap around his forearm. The fur here is coarse and thin compared to the rest of his body. His eyes connect with yours. It’s a hungry gaze. Confirmed by the way drool drips from his teeth. You may as well be a steak in front of him. There’s nothing but fear in your soft voice. “What are you doing?”

The ears on his head twitch; he’s heard you but doesn’t care as his snout slowly dips to prod at your pubic bone, not bothered by the small patch of hair there. Instead, he’s fascinated. Female werewolves have scent glands around their genitals. It’s where Chan knows pheromones should be when with a mate. 

Your breath catches at the sound of his curious sniffing traveling south. His cold, wet nose is jarring against your warm, flushed skin. This isn’t right; you need to stop this and need to get away. This entire night was a mistake. You should have waited for a different opportunity to break him out. 

The press of his rough tongue against your folds pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s tentative at first, lightly prodding, as if he’s testing the waters. However, despite how much you plead for your body to not react, a wetness forms from the stimulation. Chan gives a pleased hum of approval when tasting you. The hand on your stomach untangles from your grip with ease, moving down to your thigh, holding the squirming limb in place. His other hand mirrors, leaving your lower half pinned to the cabin floor. The supernatural strength keeps you from struggling and leaves him the perfect opportunity to shift his stance. He sinks lower between your thighs, nose pressed right against your clit, and tongue picking up speed the longer it swipes between your folds right across your hole, still determined to get more of you.

“Oh—Wait,” you whine, eyes wrenched shut, mind racing, thinking of anything to stop the growing arousal. “Ch—Chan, you can’t.”

The werewolf’s nose continues to grind against your sensitive clit with every swipe of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to aid the growing heat in your core. Your body tenses; the rush of pleasure is inevitable. This creature between your thighs is going to make you come, and time is running out to stop him. 

All you have to do is get him away for half a second. That’s all you would need for the rush to die out. Your shaky fingers reach between your legs to tangle in the soft fur on the crown of his head, right between his ears, and in one last attempt to push him away, you shove with all your might. 

Chan barely moves, unbothered by your effort, too hyper-focused on your taste. The sides of the invasive tongue slightly curl in on itself for easier access to dip deep inside your hole, the tip chasing the new wave of wetness that’s forming along your walls. Never in your life have you felt a sensation like this. It’s mind-melting, addictively intoxicating enough to neutralize any self-preservation as your orgasm overwhelms you. 

“Fuck,” you whine out, ‌trying to arch off the floor while you continue to battle your body over how euphoric this creature’s tongue feels. 

Much to your relief, Chan pulls away completely, head bowing to look between his thighs. While he’s distracted, you use the opportunity to sit up slowly, using the palms of your hands as leverage to scoot away and create distance. Unease creeps under your skin. Even in the pale light of the room, you can see what he’s staring at. 

His cock rests heavy between his legs, fully erect with more length and girth than any human man. Hell, it's bigger than most sex toys you have seen. The lump in your throat is hard to swallow the longer you look. Gears shift in your head. Chan is young for his kind, not even fully mature yet, meaning he’s yet to mate because of his captivity. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears at the thought. He’s expected to go through a werewolf puberty phase. A natural progression to be driven to breed with one of his kind. "Rut" is the word that the scientists have used. Stabilizers typically keep his hormones in check, though there are limits to how much he can take to avoid impeding his development. And judging by how his body is reacting, the doctors didn’t give Chan his medication this month.

Now here he is, a dilemma on his hands, and a body demanding he react. 

Chan’s gaze comes back to you, and with his heightened senses, his nostrils flare, taking in the smell of your arousal that’s still permeating the air in the space between you. 

It’s now or never. You need to get away from him. Tonight escalated far worse than it should have. Running away may be a death sentence, but you have to try even if it’s futile. 

At a snail’s pace, you rise to get on your feet. Chan mirrors, standing up straight on his rear legs. He is a bipedal werewolf. One that’s taller than you expect; the tips of his ears nearly brush against the ceiling of the room. The longer you take him in, the more you realize how tiny you are. You are no match for him; you barely come up to the middle of his broad chest. The width of his shoulders takes up an entire doorframe. If you let him catch you, there is no escaping. You push the thoughts away as you turn on your heel to face the exit of the room. 

One of Chan’s growls comes out. It’s low, rumbling deep in his chest, and reminds you of an irate dog giving one last warning before an attack. It stops you in your tracks, giving you time to recognize your error. 

He’s an apex predator. 

You have turned your back on him and not submitted yourself to him. 

It’s a challenge against him. 

You don’t wait any longer, pushing off the tips of your toes, bolting to cross the room, to the one door that could separate you from the werewolf. 

Half a second later, Chan crashes into your body with the force of a freight train, knocking all the air out of your lungs and successfully stunning you for a second. Adrenaline courses through your veins, keeping the fight inside you alive, burning like a raging wildfire. Your frame twists away from the snapping jaws in an attempt to get anywhere from his grasp. Though his sharp talon nails manage to hook into the thin material of your shirt, tearing it to mere strips of fabric as he scrambles to keep his hold on you. 

With all the strength you can manage, you push off the ground, trying to get your feet under you once more to get to that sweet safety that’s a few steps away. Chan is miles faster, using only a hand to swipe at your unsteady legs, sending you back to the floor in a pile of limbs. 

Before you can even acknowledge the pain from the fall, two burly, fur-covered forearms come into view, trapping you under his body. Chan, as a human, was already muscular from his daily exercise to pass his time. Now, in his true form, the extremities have far more mass and more definition. Truly a cage to keep you from escaping. 

You whimper in response to the sound of Chan snapping his jaw by your ear. It’s a polar opposite of the sweet man you know. He’s not the same soft guy who blushes when you bring him new food to eat or the one who gets dramatic when you start his daily lessons. He’s a complete stranger, a different being. 

This is a monster. 

Yes, you knew this side of him existed; it was inevitable he would shift, but he was going to be released before he needed to.

Chan’s sharp teeth are too close for comfort as he growls above you. Your eyes wrench shut, too scared to look at him, too scared of the bite that could occur. It wouldn’t kill you nor infect you; it’s the pain that terrifies you. 

Instead of the impending doom, you flinch reflexively as drool drips down onto your bare back as he assesses you under him. You are no wolf. However, he’s coherent and smart enough to know you are a human with a hole he can use. Your teeth sink deep into your tongue to fight the noise of distress trying to escape you at the sudden tug at the waistband of what remains of your jeans. Same as before, the rest of the denim shreds as effortlessly as before, leaving you completely bare under him. 

“Chan, please.” You beg again, trying to reach for the human part of him that is still in there. Your anguished voice is unrecognizable even to yourself. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to go further.”

If the werewolf understands your words, he doesn’t appear to care. Too busy scraping one of his claws repeatedly along the soft flesh of your hip, attempting to force you onto your hands and knees. The searing burn of the scratches is enough to make you comply. 

His knees slip between your legs, spreading you wider to accommodate his massive thighs. Anticipation of what is coming next causes your whole body to tremble under him. If your heart hammers any faster in your chest cavity, it may explode. Silently you pray it happens to escape this fate. 

Chan’s hips shift to angle his cock against you. Your breath catches at his first attempt to push inside. He really is going to try to bully his cock inside you. There is no physical way. You aren’t even prepared for a regular cock. 

“Chan, wait. You can’t…” Your words trail off, too distracted by the way the tip of his cock slips from the wetness, now nudging against your clit each time he thrusts forward. You can feel every ridge of the thick veins running along the length as he continues to rub so intimately against your folds, searching blindly for the hole he’s desperate to bury himself into. 

His noises of complaint fill the room with his growing frustration. It’s not right. He knows he needs to be inside. Though with his size he will rip you open. He could do irreparable damage. 

One of his hands moves to curl under you. The expanse of the wide claw covers your entire stomach as he brings you flush against his body. With a few more awkward shifts from his hips, the hot, angry tip of his cock finds home in the entrance he’s looking for.

“Ah, fuck.” You cry out as the girth of his cock forces your walls to accommodate around him. Your voice grows more wretched. “Channie, please!”

Thank goodness for the patience Chan suddenly found. Perhaps the beast understands the noises of discomfort slipping past your lips. Even though he doesn’t stop the whole ordeal, he waits to press another inch deeper inside only after your helpless noises quiet down. 

The following thrusts are timid initially. He drives his cock gently from the tip to the length he’s managed to sink into you. Each minute creeping by feels like hours, a never-ending cycle of moments that ignite the arousal in your core to the fear of another inch being pressed inside. 

When Chan makes the mistake of pulling out too far, you take the opportunity to attempt shifting your legs to sit down on your ass. It’s futile. Blocked not only by his thighs but also by the claw still resting against your stomach. The hold tightens, not allowing you to squirm away. He merely shifts you back where he wants you, cock easily pressing inside; this time he ruts quicker and quicker as his patience grows thin. 

Your breath catches as the sharp prick of teeth sinks into the back of your neck. Chan is unaffected by the hair in the way, only focusing on keeping his grip tight. Not enough to pierce through the soft skin. More globs of thick saliva drip from his mouth, caking into your hair and sliding down your neck. A low, tamer grumble follows, another warning, and another familiar trait among the wolves. 

Chan is scruffing you. 

Most of the time, a mother animal will scruff their young to carry or move them. It’s different with werewolves. This is a sign of dominance. A command for you to freeze and not move till he’s done. There are even studies at the facility showing mated pairs may scuff each other to calm their partners through distress. This instance is a mix of the two, especially with the warning noise he delivered. The last thing Chan wants right now is you moving away from his increasingly aggressive thrusts. He doesn’t understand it hurts, doesn’t understand how big he is for your human form. All he sees is more disobedience, and he won’t tolerate it. Not when he’s in control and not during the confusion of his rut. He knows he must breed, and you will accept it. 

Perhaps the werewolf is right.

The less you fight, the quicker he finishes, and the faster this whole affair will end. 

Chan’s thrusts are consistent thanks to the lack of your interference. Your pussy accepts his thick cock greedily, sheathing around him again. All of your attention is on the floorboards below you as you try your best to release the tension in your body. Accept him and his cock. That’s all you need to do right now. 

Just when you think you can handle the events of tonight, an additional issue arises. 

Chan’s cock appears to be growing at the base. 

No, bulging the more you focus. 

The last part of the mating process. 

Your human biology was never intended to accommodate a physical knot that werewolves have. Still, it doesn’t deter Chan from shoving as much of the bulging gland as he can into you. You cry out, feeling impossibly full, the tip of his cock pressing right against your cervix. No matter how you shift or squirm, there’s no way to dislodge yourself until the swelling goes down. Mercifully, the thrusts have stopped. Instead, Chan now grinds against you, giving himself just enough stimulation to reach his high. 

It’s a flood. No, more of a tsunami as warm seed erupts from his cock, adding to the uncomfortable pressure. You bring a hand to your lower stomach, moving his claw, now feeling where your body extends as more cum seeps inside of you. It’s dizzying and never-ending as his cock continues to pulsate inside of you. 

You sink to the floor, defeated and accepting your fate. You won’t be able to move for a while. Werewolves can stay locked together for hours to ensure the seed takes. Those in their rut can take even longer since their bodies aren’t used to mating. Chan is working on pure instinct with his muddy, hormone-fueled brain. He won’t understand he can’t get you pregnant. 

Speaking of said werewolf, he shifts his face, releasing his hold on your neck to drag his tongue against the planes of your sweaty back. Another recognizable behavior: He’s grooming you, showing you affection for the successful coital tie. 

The worst is over. 

By some miracle, you endured. 

Judging by the chime of your watch, it takes nearly an hour for the swelling to go down enough to unlock. You know, by the way your pussy begins leaking sperm around his softening cock. It’s a welcome relief.  

Chan doesn’t stop you from dislodging yourself away from his cock or when crawling out from underneath him. All of your movements are slow and cautious to not rile the werewolf, but accepting the adrenaline rush is long gone. The fatigue is settling into every muscle in your body.

You shift to sit on your ass a few feet shy of the beast. There's no care for your nudity, nor the filth of time caked onto the floorboards you rest on, and not even the mess still leaking between your thighs. All you want is to settle your racing heart. 

However, Chan’s rut continues to rage on. 

His snout presses against the wood flooring, right into the expanding trail of fluids, and he growls, offended at the way his hard work has spilled. This cum is supposed to stay inside of you. Thorough breeding is necessary. It’s the only way he can get pups. 

“Channie,” you plead, desperate as tears burn your lash line. “It won’t take. I’m human.”

A corner of his lip curls as he snarls. It’s a cruel, angry sound. You are disregarding his wants once more. The alpha wolf in the room. A new wave of panic courses through as he takes a step forward. He doesn’t make another noise. He doesn’t have to; you know what that piercing look means. 

No more games. 

You will take his cock a second time. 

You will stop fighting his mating attempt. 

“Okay,” you say softly, hands raised to halt him. “I understand.”

His golden eyes watch as your throbbing limbs shift. This time he’s not upset as you willingly turn away from him, back on your hands and knees. Your front presses flat against the wood. Both knees shift wider to leave room for him. The position is an invitation. You are presenting your pussy to the wolf, a universal sign of submission. 

Chan chuffs, happy at the display. His claws tap lightly against the flooring as he nears. Your heart thumps erratically in your chest in anticipation. Silently you pray to whatever higher being will listen that his second round will be quicker. Your pussy aches, still puffy and swollen from the abuse it’s endured. 

One claw comes down to rest next to one of your ears, followed by the other mirroring on the other side of your head. His firm stomach muscles press against your back, keeping him physically close to you while he stays mounted over you. 

This time around he doesn’t struggle to find your hole. His cock slides right in with a loud squelch. Your walls don’t fight his size anymore. The excessive amount of mixed fluids makes each of his cautious thrusts glide back and forth easily. You groan to yourself in disgust, hearing the drips from your pussy splatter against the wood flooring. There was so much of his cum, and still it wasn’t enough to satisfy his rut-filled brain. 

This night appears to be far from over unless you can help him along. 

One of your hands slips under your body, allowing your fingers to brush against your neglected clit. Jolts of pleasure run up your spine the longer you rub messy circles in the way you know will let your own orgasm rush over you.

It takes only a handful of seconds before your own moans slip past your lips. Chan whines high and pitifully when your tight walls spasm around his cock, trying to milk his cum out of him. He must love the sensation. His hips snap faster, trying to shove his knot back inside to feel this where he’s the most sensitive. Your plan is working. The knot is already swelling back up to its previous size. 

Call it guilt for the life he’s had in the facility, call it selfishness for wanting this to be over, or maybe it’s buried feelings locked deep in your heart that you refuse to acknowledge. Just justify the whole night how you want. Your fingers continue to rub through the fall of your orgasm, pushing for another. You know your body best; you can force another orgasm. 

You can give Chan what he wants. 

The pleasure he deserves. 

Those bulky forearms of his wobble as he struggles to not collapse on top of you. His head hangs right against your face. The soft fur tickles your cheek as he pants heavily from exertion. He’s getting as worn out as you. He must be right on the edge. 

Get him there, you say to yourself. Make it happen, and it’ll be over. 

With the perfect pressure against your clit, you dive headfirst over the edge. Your moans are shameless; no one else is here to witness you. Let yourself be honest and enjoy the pleasure. Accept the way Chan eagerly pushes his knot firmly against your hole to assure a successful lock back into place. Same as before, the hot seed gushes inside you as the werewolf above howls in satisfaction. It’s a rewarding rush of power as you ride out the entire length of your orgasm. 

Your own limbs are faring no better than his, now caving to fold under you from the exhaustion. You cry out at the harsh tug of the knot, unable to dislodge it. Though Chan sinks lower immediately to ease the pain for you. His soft fur is warm across the expanse of your body, enveloping you in a comforting, safe embrace. He rests his face against yours, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth to lightly drag over your cheek. He’s content, rut settling. 

The rest of the world feels worlds away. You know there is still the threat of the company on the horizon, but Chan needs time to shift back. Then you can get him out of here. It’ll just be delayed. There’s no telling how long until he's human again. Records stated his last full shift was five years ago. It’ll happen when his body is ready. You should stay awake to keep an eye on him. Yet, no matter how hard you fight, your eyelids close as you fall asleep. 

It’s hours later when you wake.

Mercifully, on the couch that was tucked away in the corner. Chan must have moved you when he shifted back. There’s heat cocooning your body. A moth-eaten blanket was tossed over you. You don’t care how old or dusty the cushioning might be. It’s a blessing after all the time spent on the wood flooring. 

Gradually, you assess your health. Every part of the body hurts. Besides soaking, a bath is necessary to remove the sticky mess between your legs. Overall, it's not intolerable. You still have a drive ahead of you and should be able to manage. You don’t have a choice though; the security guards are awake by now, and Chan isn’t safe yet. He needs to get out of these woods. 

Your eyes scan to the left. Next to you is a small corner table with two apples and a handful of wild berries that were not there last night. Chan must have left them as a gift. Dread sinks into the pit of your stomach the longer you stare at fruit. He left the cabin. He doesn’t know that the company owns drones that can scan the entire area. Not to mention plenty of thermal cameras. 

Where is he? 

You fight the fatigue to sit up, voice struggling to come out of your parched throat, “Channie?”

A human whine slips out across the room. 

Chan is in a corner. He’s tucked his limbs tightly against himself to be as small as he physically can be. His red, teary eyes briefly meet yours before falling back to the floor. He whimpers, something sad or hurt. He looks guilty and must feel it too. 

Your heart hurts; he remembers what occurred. His favorite human hurt by his own hand, the one person he trusted and felt safe with. Now unable to even look you in the eyes, worried about how you feel. Surely, he assumes anger, perhaps hatred, or even fear of his true self. 

Yet, there are none of those emotions flowing through you. Last night was your fault. You took him from that awful place at the worst possible moment. The animal inside him only acted as its biology told it to do. He can’t fight his own nature. 

“Chan?” You whisper, keeping your voice low. “It’s okay, honey.”

More heart-wrenching whines leave him. He turns his face away, burying it in the crook of his arm. His entire frame trembles as he begins to sob. You can’t even comprehend the emotional turmoil he’s going through. Werewolves mate for life unless in dire circumstances. Poor thing probably is wrestling a heavy conscience when he doesn’t need to. 

“Channie, come here," you say, firmer. A painful knot twists in your stomach. Not only does he need comfort, but after everything that occurred, you need him. "Please.”

Chan doesn’t rise to his feet when he finally moves. No, he scampers closer on all fours. He sits on the floor, physically as close as he can be, with his head low, anticipating some sort of punishment.  

It never comes, and it never will. 

“None of last night was your fault. I’m not upset," you say, with fingers tangling in his greasy curls to scratch at his scalp. His eyelids flutter shut. The touch is soothing, solacing enough for his crying to settle. It takes a few minutes for Chan’s tension to melt away. You only speak again once his breathing regulates. “We need to move soon.”

Chan pulls away as if your touch burns. His head shakes, telling you no. One of his hands comes up to his lips, signing a word: Eat. 

“I will," you answer. “But you shouldn’t have gone out.”

Chan huffs; it’s an offended sound. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration that he can’t communicate what he wants. His body twists, searching the room for anything the previous owners left so he could use it to help vocalize his response.

You bring a hand to his shoulder, softly squeezing the warm skin, “Don’t worry about it. I know what you're doing.”

He forgets the stacks of research you consumed over the year. The only reason he left the cabin was to find you food. It’s his job to provide a meal after a successful mating session. He knew enough about the human diet to not bring you a dead animal. Instead, he picked a safer option, one probably from memory with all the times you ate lunch with him. You shared countless apples with him, and the berries are similar to the blueberries you offered him despite his hatred for them. 

Once more Chan signs for you to eat. This time, more assertive. He pulls away to crawl across the room only to return with a bucket he must have found somewhere in the house. There’s water inside. He traveled to the nearby river you passed on the way here. 

“How long were you out there?” Your tone comes out more aggressive than intended. His eyes are wide with panic, taken aback. Plush lips start to part, but only a groan comes out instead of a word. He wants to plead his case. He doesn’t get the chance, not with your continuous prodding. “Did anyone see you? Did you hear anyone?”

Chan shakes his head, shoulders tense as the questions keep coming. His breathing becomes labored as the stress of your words overwhelms him. He slams the bucket down, causing you to flinch. Water sloshes over him onto the floor. He doesn’t particularly care, instead bringing his palm to cover your mouth, shushing the words of interrogation. 

The mood around you shifts. Chan’s cheeks are still puffy and tear-stained, though his eyes have narrowed. They’re not as round and curious. No, this gaze is serious, almost commanding. Similar to last night, when Chan established his power over you. He maintains the burning alpha wolf's gaze while his free hand blindly reaches for one of the apples to drop it into your palm.  

Heat spreads across your skin with how flustered you become. Sparks of arousal curl deep in your core. It’s followed by shame at how your body reacts to his display of dominance. It's a humbling reminder that you are no longer at the lab and Chan chooses to follow your lead. He can overpower you at any moment, but he doesn’t. All because he respects you. 

He releases his hold, and for one last time signs for you to eat. His eyes don’t leave yours; he doesn’t blink, just watching as you bring the apple to your mouth to take a bite. That appears to be enough to appease him, and he falls back to a seated position on the floor. 

Minus Chan’s nudity and dirty feet, he’s in good shape after his shift. This is good, very good for you. Occasionally, some werewolves fall into a deep slumber to recover. There was a genuine fear that you might have to try to move Chan’s bulky body, and you are in no shape to do so. 

“We have a long day ahead of us. How are you feeling?” You ask timidly before biting into the tart apple again. The werewolf at your feet merely shrugs in response. That's a good enough answer for you. You’ll finish this damn apple so his provider mentality is satisfied and then get moving. 

When tossing the blanket to the side, cold air sinks straight to the bone. It’s no different from dunking yourself straight into a lake in the middle of winter. Yes, it’s time to leave and never leave the warmth of the car heater. Damn Chan and his heightened body heat. The cool weather is probably a blessing to his skin. 

“Help me up.” You say while slowly maneuvering your limbs to sit on the edge of the couch. “We have to get moving.”

Chan motions over to you and back to himself. You don’t need him to speak to understand. The lack of sunrise will keep the forest a maze. Both of you are nude, and in no shape to be back out in the woods. Especially you, with what you endured. 

“I planned ahead. Don’t worry. We just need to get me to the shed in the back.”

Instead of being a shoulder for you to lean on, Chan stands upright before reaching for your frame. His strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you up and away. You gasp at the sudden display of strength, wrapping your arms around his neck and securing your legs tight around his hips. With one final adjustment of his hold, Chan sets off through the decapitated cabin and straight for the smaller building. 

The ice-cold cement slab the shed is built on burns against the blisters on your feet once they connect to the ground. You work quickly, hands reaching for the blue tarp you placed here a couple of nights ago. It slides off easily, revealing the car underneath. The vehicle is nearly two decades old. Bought with cash from a car lot two towns away to have no ties to you. It took a couple thousand dollars to make sure it would be up and running for the long journey, but at the end of the day the cost didn’t matter. Just as long as Chan was free. 

Slowly you hobble to make your way around to the trunk. Chan follows, hands outstretched around your frame just in case you were to fall. It’s charming how much care he has for you. Again, it’s part of the werewolf in him. In his culture, you two are bonded partners for life now. He could be shunned from his pack if anything bad happens to you. He doesn’t even know where they are, but the values instilled in him remain regardless. 

Could you handle a lifetime with Chan? 

Don’t you have the answer already? 

Your fingers search for the handle, and with some effort, the lid pops open. Inside the trunk are a few supplies. Mostly clothes and shoes. You reach in, grabbing the set for Chan first. He accepts the pants first, wasting no time to pull them on. The tee shirt is a bit tight for the broad frame, but he appears unaffected. Finally, he accepts a hoodie. It’s on the large side. Loose for him to hide in, including his face. You help zip it up before reaching around his neck to pull the hood up. 

It’s perfect.

Well, almost. The shoes are a lost cause because his feet don’t fit, but you don’t plan on bringing him anywhere near people. Not until you know it’s safe. Chan merely tosses them away. He’s always preferred being barefoot, anyway. He never used the lab-issued slip-ons the entire time he was there. 

To your surprise, Chan takes the sweatpants you packed for yourself and kneels at your feet. His touch is gentle, using one hand wrapped around your ankle to lift your foot up so he can guide your leg through. He mirrors the other before hoisting the waistband up to rest comfortably at your hips. His gaze lingers on your stomach. Even in the low light, he notices the several small cuts from where his claw pressed onto your skin. His lash line is wet as he gently covers your belly button with his palm. 

"No pups," you murmur. 

Chan lets out a relieved sigh. Another pressing question that had likely been bothering him was answered. He moves his hand only to quickly press his plush lips against each of the scabbed-over cuts. On the last one, he looks up at you, lips brushing your skin. He’s mouthing words, though no voice comes out: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

If only he knew how much guilt you were battling. There will be time in the future to heal and reflect. For now, you accept his words and allow him to help you dress if it eases his pain. The tasks appear to be a good distraction from the spiraling thoughts. He obeys your command to open the shed doors due to you not having the strength to fight the rotting wood. It gives you a moment to get the car running and warmer by the time he slips into the backseat with an excited chirp.

Yes, you feel the exhilaration too. It’s time to get the hell out. Your palms adjust their hold on the steering wheel as you pull onto the old dirt road. It’s bumpy and slowly being reclaimed by nature. Chan giggles in the back with every large dip, amused by how the car rocks. It’s a wonderful noise to hear. Once this is said and done, you’ll do everything in your power to hear all the time. 

Eventually, the lack of gasoline forces you to pull off the interstate. Chan’s stomach had been rumbling for the last hour, so a pit stop was needed. You could fuel up and find him some food for‌ both of you. Something more substantial than fruit. Then keep driving until you hit the hotel tucked right over the state line. 

Tucked off a few miles from the highway is a gas station you settle on. The building is no bigger than a two-car garage. Each of the walls is weathered from the years in operation. Several windows are boarded up with wood, and the roof has pieces of sheet metal used to repair leaks. Business probably only continues in service thanks to the random cars traveling through and a handful of locals. This is ideal; the chance of security cameras is low. People out here tend to mind their own business, and you will pay in cash. There is no way the company will know you were here. 

“Channie, I have to go inside for a minute.” You say while pulling out your stashed wallet in the center console. The cash is still confirmed inside. Your body twists toward the back to face him. “Will you be okay staying here?” 

Chan nods softly, face barely peeking from the hood. He doesn’t move from his lying position. 

Smart boy, he knows to hide. 

The store attendant doesn’t even acknowledge you entering, too invested in the newspaper he’s reading. You slink through the aisles, scanning the food. Two packages of jerky, one dusty can of pineapple, bottles of water, and a couple of overpriced handmade sandwiches from the cooler. It’ll hold you guys over until the next town. You don’t want to waste much time inside; you need to get back to Chan. 

Even at the register, the worker still doesn’t speak when you pay. Just a simple nod in acknowledgment at what pump the car is at. This guy is simply going through the motions, probably thinking about how long till his shift is over. It’s a blessing; you wanted to avoid painful small talk. 

Back outside, the sun is high in the sky. It’s a nice day. The weather is warming up despite how cold the temps dipped the previous night. Birds chirp in the distance. There’s not a cloud in the sky, you realize, as you silently pump the gas. Perhaps a sign of ‌better days ahead for you. The property you bought to remain under the radar is tucked away in the woods, nearly thirty minutes away from a one-stoplight town. There is genuine fear of how the company is going to react once they find out one of their test subjects is gone. You used most of your savings making it self-sufficient. Anything to make sure you don’t have to be seen. 

Will it last forever? No, but it’s enough until Chan decides what he wants to do with his life. 

Speaking of said werewolf, isn't he a little curious about the food you bought? 

Once securing the gas cap, you peek into the back seat. 

The familiar feeling of dread hits fast and hard. 

He’s not inside. 

“Chan!” Your voice cracks across the parking lot. The dirt parking lot has no fresh tire tracks, no strangers. Just dust and a pair of footprints trailing the opposite way from the car. The grocery bag slips from your fingers as fear turns the blood in your veins into ice. 

He’s gone. 

Just like that?

You scream louder this time. “Chan!”

A second later, Chan appears from the side of the building. He jogs back over to the car, head ducked low, shoulders tight. A sight similar to a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Guilt written all over him. 

“I said stay in the car!” You exclaim, the anger in your voice thin and shaking. Loss, anger, and relief crash into you so hard your knees nearly give out. It’s a whirlwind. Nausea hits next, causing stomach acid to burn the back of your throat. “You should have waited. I was worried.”

Chan signs two words: Toilet. Sorry. 

He circles the car to grab the fallen bag. When he straightens, his hood slips off his head. Sunlight catches in his curls, wind teasing the brown strands, and it shows off all the different shades of color. 

Chan came back to you. 

He didn’t have to. 

It was the perfect opportunity to leave you behind. 

He is choosing to stay, right?

In a perfect world, he would find his pack and return to his family. Though that dream might be impossible. You don’t even know where Chan is originally from. Umbra ships creatures from around the world. The other werewolves could be oceans away. 

Now the insecurities inside you are trying to guilt you. You are all he knows now. He is still in survival mode. He’s accepted his fate. Being with you means he’s not a lab rat. Of course he would pick being out here. That thought stings more than the scratches healing on your hip. 

You want him to stay because he wants to. 

Maybe that’s selfish of you. 

The fear of losing him lingers in your chest, raw and undeniable. There is no shoving your feelings away anymore. You care for him. No, you love him. You would do anything for him. Able to see him here free, enjoying the sunshine, is priceless. Everything you have done and endured seems worth it. You would do it a million times over. This is what you wanted for him. 

For the first time, the voice you desperately wanted to hear speaks beside you. It's trembling, strained, and soft. “L—L—Love…You.”

The world stills. These are Chan’s first vocalized words to you. After a year of working every day. It’s not letters or numbers. Not rehearsed sounds practiced for hours at a time. Not a forced syllable squeezed out of frustration. All of it has paid off. 

He is expressing his true feelings.

You knew Chan was fond of you. Yes, you also knew of his deep emotional attachment. You aren’t blind. He sought you out in that horrible place. You were his comfort; of course he would grow attached. This makes your plan for his release harder on top of all your complicated feelings. The goal was to let him run free up in the thick woods near the mountain. Very few humans travel up there, so he could shift freely and safely from danger. There is a dense population of wildlife that would be perfect for him to hunt. Now you’re unsure if you could let him out there if he didn’t want to stay with you. 

“Chan,” you whisper.

His eyes stay on the ground like he expects the words to be wrong somehow. As if he’s bracing for correction. It isn’t perfect. It doesn’t have to be. Not when it’s music to your ears.

He swallows and tries again, stronger this time. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Channie.” You answer with tears burning your lash line. Cautiously bring a hand to his cheek, cupping his face before leaning close to place a soft kiss on his plush lips. Chan pulls away immediately, face flushing a deep shade of red, and gaze falling to the dirt below his feet. He’s shy about such sudden affection, but the wide smile on his face tells you he enjoyed it. 

“Come on.” You say with enthusiasm, turning to open the door for him. “We still have a long way to go.”

Chan slips into the passenger seat, closing the door behind himself. His eyes lock onto you, watching you walk around the front and enter on your side. He allows you to buckle his seatbelt without a struggle. His fingers fiddle with the cloth strap, completely distracted by the mechanism, curious how it works. 

And with that, you two are back on the road. 

If Chan minds the soft music playing, he doesn’t show it. He eats quietly beside you, scarfing down a sandwich and a bag of jerky in a handful of minutes. The pull tab on the can of pineapple gives him a small fight, but he chirps in excitement when realizing what’s inside. He eats one piece at a time with his fingers, savoring the fruit. 

The car ride was fairly silent after that. Chan rests his head against the cool glass, focused on the scenery passing by. Cautiously, you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers to hold. Out of your peripheral, he glances down at the hold and tightens the grip.

The two of you will figure out what to do about his next shift. Your new home has a basement. Though the idea of chaining him down doesn’t seem too appealing and is rather cruel, maybe he’ll understand. However, the real question is if you can werewolf-proof your home just in case it’s not enough to hold him. Sure, you live outside the city in the woods, but there are still neighbors miles down the road. 

Those thoughts don’t matter right now. 

After all, you have time until the next full moon. 

︎Abiaswreck | Do not copy, repost, or translate | As always, reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to comment, reblog with feedback, or send me an ask. I’d love to hear from you; it helps with motivation. I hope today is kind to you. <3

Enjoyed what you read? Consider buying me a Ko-fi to show appreciation.

Additional A/N: What do we think? Sequel maybe? I have ideas but want to know what you guys think.

[yourfavtangerine]

Can you write about wolf hybrid chan x human reader pls

Wolfish~

Pairing: Wolf hybrid!bangchan x human!reader

Roomates to lovers, smut, fluff (mostly smut)

Wc:~3.2k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mirror sex, breeding kink, nipple sucking, fingering, multiple rounds/orgasms/positions, knotting, creampie, rough sex, oral f receiving, semi handjob

A/N: really, who doesn't deam about wolf!chan?

You had always known Chan was different. Not just because he was a wolf hybrid: gray ears that twitched at every sound, a fluffy tail that betrayed his moods and those striking golden eyes that seemed to see straight through you, but because he was Chan. The leader type in everyday life, the one who stayed up late producing music in his room, who made sure the fridge was stocked with your favorite snacks and who somehow made the apartment feel like home instead of just a shared living space.

For the past six months, the two of you had been roommates in this cozy two-bedroom place on the edge of the city. What started as a practical arrangement had slowly deepened into something warmer. Late-night talks on the couch, movie marathons where his head would eventually end up in your lap and quiet moments where his hand would brush yours a little too long. There was tension, sure, but neither of you had crossed that line. He was respectful, almost painfully so. A gentleman with sharp canines and a growl that made your stomach flip whenever it slipped out.

But something had shifted in the last week.

First, Chan came home later than usual from the studio, his usual bright smile replaced by a tense line of his mouth. He barely said hello before disappearing into his room. The next morning, you found him in the kitchen at dawn, staring into the fridge like it held the answers to the universe. His ears were flat against his head and when you greeted him cheerfully, he’d flinched, muttering something about needing to train before bolting.

By day four, the avoidance was obvious. He’d leave notes instead of talking "Gone for a run, don’t wait up" and the apartment smelled… different. His natural scent, that comforting mix of warm cedarwood, fresh rain, and something uniquely him, had grown heavier. Muskier. It lingered in the hallways like invisible smoke, making your head feel fuzzy and your skin too warm whenever you passed his door.

You tried not to overthink it. Hybrids had their cycles, you knew that much. But Chan had always been open with you about that stuff before. He’d disappear for a day or two during his regular ruts, holing up with suppressants and protein shakes, then emerge sheepish and extra cuddly to make up for the distance. This time felt different. More intense. He wasn’t even texting back properly.

Tonight, you couldn’t take it anymore.

The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner. You’d made dinner: his favorite, spicy chicken stir-fry with extra vegetables, but the plate sat untouched on the counter. After an hour of waiting, you wiped your hands on a dish towel and headed down the hallway toward the spare room you’d converted into a home gym. The door was slightly ajar, golden light spilling out along with the unmistakable sound of heavy breathing and the clank of metal.

You pushed the door open quietly.

Chan was there, back to you, shirtless and glistening with sweat under the overhead lights. His broad shoulders flexed as he curled a heavy dumbbell, biceps bulging, veins standing out along his forearms. The gray wolf ears atop his messy hair were pinned back tightly. His tail, thick and silver-tipped, lashed sharply from side to side with each rep, betraying his agitation. Black workout shorts clung low on his hips, damp with perspiration, outlining the powerful lines of his thighs and… something else.

You swallowed hard. He looked feral. Beautifully, dangerously so.

The air in the room was thick with his scent. It hit you like a wave: deep, earthy musk mixed with pure, raw arousal. Your knees felt a little weak. You’d read about hybrid ruts before, but experiencing it this close was something else entirely. The scent wrapped around you, sinking into your lungs, making heat bloom low in your belly.

"Chan?" you called softly.

He froze mid-rep. The dumbbell dropped to the mat with a heavy thud. Slowly, he turned.

Golden eyes met yours, pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of amber remained. His chest heaved, breaths coming in short, ragged pants. A low growl rumbled in his throat before he could stop it. Sweat trailed down the defined ridges of his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his shorts where an obvious, thick bulge strained against the fabric.

"You shouldn’t be here right now" he rasped. His voice was deeper than usual, rough like gravel. His ears flicked back further, but his body leaned toward you instinctively, nose twitching as he inhaled your scent. "Fuck… you smell too good."

You took a cautious step inside anyway, heart hammering. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. I was worried. I made dinner, but-"

"I know." He ran a hand through his damp hair, claws catching slightly. "I’ve been trying to handle it. Suppressants aren’t cutting it this time. It’s… stronger." His tail curled tightly around his own leg as if trying to restrain himself. "You need to go. Please."

But you didn’t move. The way he looked at you, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy him, sent a thrill through your body. You’d imagined this moment in quiet, guilty fantasies before. Chan losing control. Those strong hands on you. His teeth at your throat.

"How long has it been?" you asked, voice quieter.

"Three days." He laughed bitterly, the sound edged with pain. "I thought I could push through. Studio work, extra workouts, cold showers… nothing’s working. Every time I catch even a hint of your scent from the hallway, I-" He cut himself off with a sharp inhale, eyes fluttering shut. When they opened again, the hunger was even more pronounced. "I’m losing it, baby. You have no idea what I want to do to you right now."

The pet name slipped out so naturally it made your breath catch.

You stepped closer, close enough to see the way his nostrils flared and his claws flexed at his sides. The gym mirror behind him reflected the scene: you in your simple tank top and shorts, looking small next to his powerful, half-feral frame.

"Then tell me" you whispered. "Or… show me."

Chan’s control visibly frayed. He took one predatory step forward, then another. His hand reached out, hovering near your arm like he was afraid to touch you. "You don’t understand. In rut… I’m not gentle. I knot. I get stuck inside you for a long time. I’ll want to breed you over and over until this fire in me dies down. I could hurt you."

"I trust you" you said simply. Your hand rose to cup his jaw, thumb brushing over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into it with a broken sound, eyes half-lidded.

"You shouldn’t." But even as he said it, his tail uncurled from his leg and brushed tentatively against your calf. The touch was electric.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body. His cock twitched visibly in his shorts, a small wet spot forming where the tip leaked. The scent of him was overwhelming now: pure alpha need, desperate and masculine. It made your own arousal spike, thighs pressing together instinctively.

Chan’s ears perked slightly at the shift in your scent. "You’re… wet." It wasn’t a question. His voice dropped to a near-purr. "For me?"

You nodded, cheeks burning.

He groaned, forehead dropping to rest against yours. His breath was hot against your lips. "I’ve wanted you for so long. Even outside of rut. But this… this makes it impossible to hold back. If we start, I won’t be able to stop until my knot deflates. It could take hours. Days, maybe, if the rut’s bad."

"I’m not asking you to stop" you murmured, sliding your hands up his bare chest. His skin was fever-hot, heart thundering under your palm. "I want to help you, Chan. Let me take care of you like you always take care of me."

For a moment, he just breathed you in, trembling with the effort of restraint. Then, with a low, needy whine that sent shivers down your spine, he captured your mouth in a kiss.

It wasn’t soft. It was hungry, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tongue sweeping in to taste you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every inch of his hardness pressing into your stomach as he ground against you slowly, instinctively.

"Mine" he growled against your lips between kisses. "Been mine for months. Just didn’t want to scare you."

You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair and stroking the base of his sensitive ears. He shuddered hard at the touch, hips jerking forward.

The kiss deepened, turning messier. Chan walked you backward until your back hit the cool mirror. One of his thighs pressed between your legs, giving you something to grind against as his hands roamed: squeezing your hips, sliding under your tank top to feel bare skin.

"Fuck, you’re so soft" he muttered, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck. His teeth grazed your pulse point, not biting but threatening to. "Smell so fucking good. Gonna make you smell like me."

Your head fell back against the mirror with a soft moan. This was really happening. The tension that had built for months was finally snapping, fueled by his rut and your own suppressed desire.

Chan pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glowing with lust and something deeper. His ears were forward now, fully focused on you. Sweat still clung to his skin, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Last chance, baby" he panted. "Tell me to stop and I’ll lock myself in my room with the strongest suppressants I have. But if you stay… I’m going to ruin you for anyone else."

You reached down boldly, palming the massive bulge in his shorts. He hissed, hips bucking into your touch.

"I’m staying" you whispered. "Let me help you, Chan."

A feral grin spread across his face, canines flashing. He scooped you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the thick workout mats in the center of the room.

"Then let’s start" he growled, voice full of dark promise. "Because once I get my knot in you, we’re not leaving this room for a long time."

Chan didn’t waste another second.

He lowered you onto the thick gym mats with surprising care, but the moment your back touched the floor his mouth was on yours again: hot, demanding and utterly consuming. His tongue tangled with yours as a deep growl vibrated through his chest and into your body. Large hands roamed everywhere, shoving your tank top up and off in one rough motion. The bra followed, tossed somewhere behind him.

"Beautiful" he rasped, golden eyes devouring the sight of your bare breasts. His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking hard while his clawed fingers teased the other. Your back arched with a moan, fingers digging into his silver ears. The sensitive appendages flicked and trembled under your touch, making him groan around your flesh.

"Chan...please…"

He switched to the other breast, sharp teeth grazing just enough to sting deliciously. His tail lashed wildly behind him, brushing against your legs. The heavy musk of his rut filled the entire room now, thick enough to taste. You were soaked, aching and he could smell it.

Lower. His kisses trailed down your stomach, claws hooking into your shorts and panties, ripping them down your legs in one swift tug. He buried his face between your thighs without hesitation, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck, your scent…" He licked a stripe up your slit, tongue rough and eager. "So wet for me already. Gonna eat this pretty pussy until you’re screaming."

You cried out as he dove in, devouring you like a man starved. His tongue flicked over your clit with precise, relentless strokes before pushing inside you, fucking you with it. Two thick fingers joined soon after, curling against that spot that made your vision white out. His free hand pinned your hips down when you tried to writhe too much, growls vibrating against your core.

The first orgasm hit you fast and hard. You clenched around his fingers, thighs shaking around his head as you moaned his name. Chan didn’t stop, lapping up every drop until you were twitching and oversensitive.

"First one of many" he promised, crawling back up your body. His shorts were gone now, kicked off somewhere. His cock sprang free: thick, veined and longer than you’d expected, the base already starting to swell with his knot. The head was flushed dark and leaking steadily. "Need to be inside you. Now."

You reached down, wrapping your hand around him. He was scorching hot, pulsing in your grip. Chan’s hips jerked, a broken whine escaping him.

"Careful, baby. I’m so close already."

"Then fuck me" you whispered, guiding him to your entrance.

He pushed in slowly at first, savoring every inch. The stretch was intense, burning pleasure as your walls fluttered around his girth. Halfway in, he cursed, forehead pressed to yours, ears flat.

"So tight… taking me so well."

Then the last of his restraint vanished. Chan slammed the rest of the way in, bottoming out with a growl. You gasped at the fullness, nails raking down his back. He gave you barely a moment to adjust before pulling back and thrusting hard.

The pace was brutal. Each snap of his hips drove him deep, the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the gym. His balls slapped against you, tail wrapping around your thigh to spread you wider. He fucked you like he was claiming you: deep, possessive strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside.

"Mine" he snarled against your neck, teeth scraping the skin. "Gonna fill you up. Breed this sweet cunt until it takes."

You moaned louder at his words, clenching around him. The knot at the base of his cock was swelling more with every thrust, catching at your entrance on the way out.

Chan flipped you suddenly, putting you on all fours. He mounted you from behind, one hand gripping your hip while the other braced beside your head. The new angle let him go even deeper. His chest pressed to your back, sharp teeth finally sinking into the junction of your neck and shoulder, not enough to break skin fully, but enough to mark you as his.

You came again with a scream, walls pulsing around his cock. Chan groaned, hips stuttering as he chased his own release. The knot swelled fully, locking him inside you as hot, thick ropes of cum flooded your insides. He kept grinding, pushing it deeper, hips jerking with every spurt.

"Take it… all of it" he panted, voice wrecked. "Good girl. Such a good mate for me."

The knot kept you tied together. Every tiny shift sent sparks of pleasure through you both. Chan licked at the bite mark soothingly, arms wrapped around you as you both caught your breath on the mats.

But the rut wasn’t done.

After twenty minutes, the knot deflated enough for him to pull out. Cum dripped down your thighs. Chan watched with dark satisfaction, then flipped you onto your back again.

"More" he growled. "Need you again."

He took you face-to-face this time, slower but no less intense. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he rocked into you, knot swelling once more. You lost count of how many times he made you cum: on his cock, on his tongue, with his fingers while he recovered between rounds.

At one point he carried you to the weight bench, bending you over it and taking you from behind again. The mirror across the room gave you a perfect view: Chan’s powerful body moving behind you, muscles flexing, ears twitching with pleasure, tail curled possessively around your waist. His golden eyes stayed locked on yours in the reflection.

"Look at us" he murmured, voice husky. "Look how perfectly you take my knot."

You did. The sight pushed you over the edge again.

Hours blurred. The gym filled with the scent of sex and sweat and him. Chan’s rut drove him relentlessly: three more full knots, each one leaving you fuller and messier. He whispered praises between growls: how perfect you were, how he’d wanted this for so long, how he was going to take care of you after.

Eventually, the frantic edge softened. The last knot locked you together on the mats once more. Chan collapsed carefully over you, careful not to crush you with his weight. His ears drooped with exhaustion, but his arms held you close, tail draped over your leg.

"You okay?" he whispered, nuzzling into your marked neck. His voice was hoarse from all the growling and moaning. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, smiling tiredly as you stroked his ears. "I’m perfect. Sore… but perfect. And exhausted. Felt amazing."

He let out a relieved sigh, pressing soft kisses to your skin. The feral glow in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by that familiar warmth you loved. "Thank you. For helping me. For trusting me. I… I love you. Have for a while."

Your heart swelled. "I love you too, Chan."

The knot kept you connected a little longer. He used the time to scent you thoroughly, rubbing his cheek against yours, running his hands over every inch of skin he could reach. When it finally went down, he scooped you up gently and carried you to the bathroom attached to the gym.

He ran a warm bath, lowering you both into it. Chan washed you with careful hands, massaging your aching muscles and pressing kisses to every mark he’d left. You returned the favor, washing his chest and scratching gently behind his ears until he purred.

Later, wrapped in soft towels and one of his oversized shirts, he carried you to his bedroom. The sheets smelled strongly of him. He tucked you against his chest, arms and tail cocooning you securely.

"The rut might come back in waves" he admitted quietly, voice already sleepy. "But it’s a lot better now. Because of you."

You snuggled closer, tracing patterns on his skin. "Then we’ll handle the next waves together too."

Chan’s purr deepened, content and satisfied. His golden eyes slipped shut, ears relaxing fully for the first time in days.

As sleep pulled you both under, you felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek and the warm brush of his tail. The apartment felt complete, like the two of you had finally crossed the line you’d been dancing around for months.

[dimthemoonstaytiny]

Perfect Prey (Yunho)

content warning: sex in public; kinda dub con; vampire yunho

Masterlist

Minors DNI 🔞

word count: 4410

Your friends thought you were crazy for your curiosity about vampires, but you couldn't help it. How could you not wonder what made them immortal? How could you not imagine being bitten by one after the stories you'd heard of the pleasure it brought?

The bouncer checked your ID and gave you a red wristband before permitting entry. "Red is for humans, white is for vampires," he informed you as he opened the door.

You wanted to ask if it was red for blood and white for death but decided not to. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally offend a vampire before even making it inside. Instead, you nodded and took your first steps into the club.

The first thing you noticed was the darkness. You could barely see more than a few feet in front of you, forcing you to weave through the packed crowd before finally reaching the bar where the air was at least slightly easier to breathe.

The bartender looked up. "What can I get you?"

"A Bloody Mary," you answered, deciding it felt strangely appropriate for a vampire bar.

You weren't entirely sure he'd heard you over the pounding music, but he nodded without hesitation and immediately began mixing the drink.

When he returned he set down the Bloody Mary along with a shot. "First time here?" he asked, looking surprisingly human despite the white wristband that clung to his skin.

"That obvious?" you laughed as you sucked down some of the drink.

"You seem a little... tense," he observed, his eyes flicking to the white-knuckled grip you had on your bag.

You glanced down in surprise. You hadn't even realized how tightly you'd been clutching it. Embarrassed, you loosened your fingers and flexed your hand, wincing as your aching knuckles protested from being clenched for so long.

"I've never met a vampire before," you confessed. "My hometown is really small and close-minded about non-humans."

"But you're not," he pointed out.

You smiled that he'd noticed your willingness to give vampires a try. "You used to be human once, too. I just can't fathom thinking that you'd be so different that we couldn't just get along."

"We do drink blood, little human," he reminded you as you both turned to watch a man in the corner tilt his head to allow a vampire to drink from him.

You couldn't look away from it...

The man gasped and held the vampire closer, eyes falling back as she sucked from his neck with needy moans. She pulled away after only a few seconds, but the man hadn't had enough. He kissed her gently and exposed his throat again, urging her to take more which she happily did.

"The vamps won't bite you unless you want it," the bartender explained as he took away your empty glass.

"Why would anyone want to be bitten?" you questioned in awe.

He smirked and leaned in, eyes trailing from your chest to your throat in such a way that you couldn't help but feel the tension. "The better question is, why would anyone not want it," he whispered as he inched forward a little more. You impulsively moved towards him, briefly wondering if he would bite you, but just as the thought crossed your mind, he eased back with a cocky lift of his brow.

Your breath hastened and you dizzily thanked him before downing the shot and stepping into the crowd before he could see how embarrassed you were. You had come here primarily to observe vampires and maybe chat with one, but after just one conversation, you were shamefully turned on.

You danced your way into the crowd, eventually melting into it and becoming just another human enjoying the music. It felt mostly like being at a regular club except that couples were sucking each other's necks instead of making out.

One vampire, in particular, eventually caught your attention. His lips brushed against a woman's throat, lingering just above her pulse, but instead of sinking his fangs into her skin the way everyone else was with their human companions, he slowly traced the line of her neck with the tip of his tongue. Every movement was pure sex, and throughout it all, his firm gaze never left yours.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he pressed a final kiss beneath the woman's ear and murmured something to her. She glanced back at him with a knowing smile, then turned to meet your eyes. Without a word, she started walking toward you.

You swallowed hard and looked around to see if she could be heading for anyone else, but all the other humans nearby were either wrapped up in their own conversations or tucked into the arms of vampires.

"Yunho would like to see you," she said simply as she passed before disappearing into the crowd.

Your eyes found him again almost instantly, and you realized he was still staring as if he'd never looked away. You hesitated for a second, but your feet began moving before you could fully decide whether it was a good idea to answer a vampire's call or not. You felt compelled to go to him.

When you finally reached him, the first thing you noticed was his height. He towered over you with an effortless sort of dominance, forcing you to tilt your head just to meet his eyes. Up close, he was devastatingly handsome in a way that felt almost unnatural...as though beauty itself had been sharpened into a weapon.

His skin was flawless porcelain, pale enough to make the dim lights of the club seem warm against it, while his lips were stained a rich crimson that looked permanently kissed by fresh blood. Every feature was impossibly precise: a sculpted jaw, high cheekbones, dark eyes that held the quiet promise of violence beneath their calm surface. You were entranced by him.

"I've never seen you here before," he pointed out, as if he had a catalogue of former patrons cycling through his mind.

Before you could answer, his cool fingers slid beneath your hair, sweeping it over one shoulder with effortless familiarity. The touch was gentle, yet it was clearly meant to keep you rooted in place. His gaze drifted slowly along the exposed line of your neck as his fingertips traced your skin, searching with practiced precision for that pulse point he was so familiar with. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth once he found it.

"You've never been bitten," he observed, sounding almost intrigued. "Not once."

"There are no vampires in my hometown," you told him. "I came here to find out what vampires were really like," you admitted, the words stumbling out far less confidently than you'd intended.

It was becoming difficult to think with his hands resting against your skin. His touch was impossibly cold, sending a chill racing down your spine. If not for the crush of bodies and the suffocating warmth of the crowded club, you were certain you would've shivered beneath his fingertips.

"We're just like you," he said dryly, the words dripping with sarcasm as he echoed the slogan the vampire delegate, Hongjoong, had repeated every time he appeared on television.

You caught the flicker of contempt that crossed his face before he could hide it. "You don't believe that," you realized.

A humorless smile ghosted across his lips. "We may have once been human," he said quietly, "but we've evolved into something far greater." As he spoke, his thumb traced a slow path along your neck before gliding beneath your jaw. The gentle pressure coaxed your chin upward before you even realized you'd moved. "It would be an insult to my kind to pretend we're equals with our prey." His gaze lingered on your face, a dark lust in his eyes. Then, after the briefest pause, the corner of his mouth lifted. "Even when our prey is as beautiful as you."

"Prey?" you echoed, swallowing hard as images of foxes chasing rabbits flashed through your mind.

"You sound surprised." Amusement flickered in his crimson eyes. "Surely you knew we drink blood."

"I do." You frowned. "But... aren't you supposed to bite and release now?"

The government's Bite and Release campaign had been impossible to escape. Every commercial, every billboard, every interview insisted the same thing: vampires fed responsibly, took only what they needed, and always let their donors walk away unharmed.

"Mhm," he answered lazily. "That is what we're supposed to do."

Every hair on your body stood on end, and you instinctively tried to pull away for fear of what he might do, but Yunho's grip remained firm. You whimpered as he tilted your head farther to the side, exposing more of your neck despite your futile attempts to resist. His razor-sharp fangs hovered just above your skin, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the bite.

When his lips brushed your neck instead, a startled gasp escaped you as your fingers instinctively clutched the front of his shirt. A relief so overwhelming that it made your knees weak flooded through your body. It felt ridiculous that a simple kiss could bring such comfort after he'd spent the last minute convincing you he was about to sink his fangs into your throat, and yet that was exactly what had happened.

As you finally exhaled and caught your breath, Yunho inhaled deeply, his grip tightening around your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

"I want to fucking tear you apart," he rasped against your ear, his voice rough enough to send a chill down your spine. "I want to sink my fangs into your throat and drain every last drop from you while you beg someone to save you."

You couldn't speak. Every instinct told you to pull away, but you knew it would only make his grip tighten. He was stronger than you by an impossible margin, and if he truly wanted you dead, there wasn't a single thing you could do to stop him.

"I could throw you over my shoulder right now," he imagined, his voice low against your ear, "and have you back at my place before anyone even realized you were gone." His hold on your waist tightened as he let the thought linger between you. "No one would be able to stop me."

You choked on a breath.

"Fuck," he breathed. "You'd make a beautiful corpse to add to my collection."

You began to hyperventilate, body freezing against him. Yunho was a killer...the top of a fucked up food chain with only two species...vampire and human...predator and prey.

He slowly dragged his tongue along your throat, a low, satisfied sound escaping him as his fangs barely skimmed your skin. "Fear tastes good on you, bunny," he murmured.

"B...bunny?" you stuttered, curious where the name had come from.

"Mhm," he hummed, dragging his tongue along your throat once more before turning you to face the crowded room. His hands settled on your hips as he held you against him. "You're just a little, helpless prey," he murmured. "Like a bunny."

Your frantic gaze swept across the club, desperately searching for anyone who might notice the fear written across your face, but every person around you was lost in their own conversation, dance, or embrace. No one even spared you a second glance.

A breathy sigh escaped Yunho as he pressed closer from behind, one hand flattening against your stomach while he rocked his hips against you as if to simulate fucking you. "See, bunny?" he whispered near your ear. "No one's coming to save you. I can do whatever I want to you."

You began to tremble as your life flashed before your eyes. Your friends had been right all along about vampires. Your town had known better than to let them settle within its borders. You'd never have children, earn that promotion, or see the rest of the world.

You were going to die here. Yunho was going to kill you.

"But the bartender said..." you began, voice shaking so badly you barely recognized it. "He said you wouldn't bite me unless I wanted you to."

"I haven't bitten you yet, bunny. Have I?" he murmured as his hand slid over your chest to the curve of your throat.

A shaky gasp escaped your lips, and you quickly shook your head, tears spilled over despite yourself. Yunho brushed them away with gentle kisses, each one accompanied by a quiet hum of satisfaction.

"You don't have to pretend to be afraid, bunny," he whispered, the corners of his mouth curling into a knowing smile. "I can tell you're enjoying being played with."

"I'm not pretending," you insisted, your voice trembling despite the conviction behind your words.

"Mmm." A smug smile tugged at his lips. "Then why are you grinding against me, bunny?"

Your stomach dropped. Only then did you realize you'd been unconsciously matching the slow rhythm he'd set, your body responding on instinct while your mind had been consumed by panic. The moment you forced yourself still, Yunho let out a low chuckle.

"Aww did I embarrass you?" he teased. He released you just long enough for you to stumble forward before curling a hand around your wrist and leading you toward a secluded corner lined with leather booths. As he approached, the surrounding vampires and humans alike scattered as though it were a ritual for him to claim this exact booth for this exact reason.

"Are you tired of dancing?" you asked, lip quivering from the fear that this isolated corner was an even more dangerous place to be than the crowded dance floor.

A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest. "You're quite ignorant of the lack of limitations for vampires, aren't you, bunny?" His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement as you blinked back dumbfounded. "Vampires don't get tired," he added.

Before you could process that, his hands settled on your waist as he effortlessly lifted you, guiding one of your legs over his hip until you were perched against him.

You tried to sit taller if for no other reason than to avoid the embarrassment of him realizing you were wet, but he yanked you down and assisted in rolling your hips up and down his clothed length.

"Mmm. See?" A smug smile tugged at his lips as he felt the warmth your body had betrayed you with. "You're not afraid." His thumb traced a slow circle against your hip before his gaze lifted to yours. "Or maybe," he murmured, "fear is exactly what turns you on."

"I'd have to be really fucked up to be turned on right now," you breathed, your cheeks flushing despite yourself.

"And you are, aren't you?" he taunted as a devilish smile spread across his face. "Just a frightened little bunny that wandered straight into my trap."

His eyes never left yours as he reached for the button of his jeans, undoing it with a slow confidence before tugging the waistband lower.

"Someone will see," you warned, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced behind you.

Amusement flickered across Yunho's face. "So you're not opposed to bouncing on my cock," he mused. "You're only opposed to doing it in public?"

Your face burned. Only after the words left his mouth did you realize what you'd actually implied. You hadn't told him no. You'd only told him not here.

"Besides," he continued as he adjusted his clothing and nudged your underwear aside, "vampire bars are very sex-forward."

Before you could think of a response, he guided you down onto his length with agonizing slowness, his gaze fixed on your face as he gradually buried himself inside you. He watched for every twitch of pleasure or pain, every breath held before a whine released.

Your head instinctively fell against his shoulder to muffle a louder moan threatening to escape, but Yunho caught your chin and gently tilted your face back, exposing your throat to him once more.

"I want every little pervy human in this room to watch you fuck me," he murmured. "And when you're finally ready to come..." His lips ghosted over the pulse in your neck where he inhaled deeply as if smelling your blood just beneath the surface. "You're going to beg me to bite you." His thumb lingered beneath your jaw, keeping your gaze where he wanted it. "Understood?"

You were too busy raising and dropping your hips to answer, but one firm grip of your hip had you replying in seconds. "Yes. Yes, I will beg," you conceded shamefully.

"Good, bunny," he murmured as he loosened his grip just enough to let you ride him.

Yunho leaned back against the booth and simply watched you, his crimson eyes never leaving your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your lips parted while every shaky breath betrayed just how overwhelmed you were. One hand remained wrapped around your waist, steadying you while he permitted you to control the pace, allowing you to decide how quickly or slowly you moved.

You started slow, achingly slow, but quickly built the pace up, listening for his words of approval which became motivation to keep going. He may have been a killer, but he was a killer you wanted to please.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention, and you reluctantly opened your eyes. The same human whose throat he'd licked earlier had wandered over, wearing a hopeful smile as she started to slide into the booth beside him and reach for his bicep.

Before she could touch him, Yunho turned his head and let out a low, warning hiss.

You both froze at the unfamiliar sound, but then the woman let out a startled squeal before scrambling away into the crowd without another glance.

When Yunho turned back to you, the hardness in his expression had softened ever so slightly as his eyes searched your frightened face. For the briefest moment, you wondered if maybe he wasn't as terrifying as you'd convinced yourself he was.

The thought vanished the instant he hooked his fingers beneath the straps of your dress and plucked them down until the fabric pooled around your waist.

Your breath caught. Before, everyone could only assume what was happening inside the booth. Now he'd left you completely exposed.

"Yunho, I need clothes," you protested, instinctively trying to cover yourself.

"No," he replied with an unyielding smirk, catching your wrists before you could hide yourself from him. "I've lived for a hundred and seventy-six years, and you're the most beautiful human I've ever laid eyes on." His gaze lingered on you with shameless admiration. "If I want to watch your tits bounce while fucking me, I think that's a privilege I've earned."

"But..."

"Go on bunny. Hop," he teased as he thrust up and into you, earning a sharp whine.

You caught his shoulders for support and forced your aching legs to keep moving. Your thighs burned with exertion, and your throat had grown raw from the countless moans and breathless cries of his name. Even though he filled you more deeply than anyone ever had before, it wasn't the sensation of his cock drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

It was the anticipation of his bite.

His fingertips had already settled over the place he'd chosen on your neck, lazily tracing your pulse as though committing it to memory. Every gentle caress made your cunt throb around him, made you desperate to be used in the ways you'd heard about.

You tilted your head further, giving him more room and hoping he'd take the hint. Yunho noticed, but merely pressed his thumb deeper into your throat. "Beg."

Yunho's gaze drifted from your helpless face to the unsteady rise and fall of your chest before returning to your eyes, a frustratingly controlled smile playing at the corners of his lips.

In a raspy voice barely above a whisper, you managed to say, "Bite me."

"Was that a request," he taunted, "or a plea, bunny?" His thumb traced your pulse once more as he spoke. "Because if you remember, I told you to beg."

A quiet whimper escaped your lips. The desperation clawing at your chest embarrassed you almost as much as the realization that you wanted to give in.

His grip tightened just enough to draw you closer until your chest was pressed flush against his. He kissed slowly up the length of your neck, each lingering drag coaxing another shaky moan from your lips before he finally reached your ear.

"Beg, bunny," he urged, his voice barely a whisper; his words cool against your skin. "I know you can."

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest as your fingers slipped into his hair, holding him against the very spot you'd silently offered to him.

"Please, Yunho," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Please... bite me."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the music," he teased.

You grunted in frustration, and he spanked you for your defiance. With a yelp, you squeezed him closer until you were nearly swallowing his ear. "Bite me. Please, Yunho."

"I'd love to," he began, as you eagerly tilted your head more for him. "But I'm just not sure you want it badly enough."

You could've cried from how desperate you were. In fact, you did cry. Tears began to steam down your cheeks as you pleaded with him to give you the pleasure you'd earned...the pleasure he'd promised. "Yunho, please. Please you promised to bite me. Please bite me."

"Good bunny," he praised as he kissed your pulse point.

You drew in a sharp breath, instinctively bracing yourself as his lips pressed to you. The instant his fangs pierced your skin, a startled gasp tore from your lips, your fingers tightening around him as the unfamiliar sting stole the air from your lungs.

You could feel your pulse quicken beneath his lips, each heartbeat sending fresh warmth toward the wound as though your body had willingly surrendered itself to him. Soft, satisfied hums vibrated against your skin while he drank, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

You weren't afraid anymore.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and held him as close as you could, silently urging him not to stop...not yet...not ever. If he wanted more, he could have it. In that moment, you would have given him every last drop.

It wasn't anything like the stories you'd read. The bite hurt like hell, yet the growing lightness spreading through your body left you strangely detached from the pain. As your thoughts blurred and you surrendered yourself to him, an intoxicating emptiness settled over your mind, making you crave the moment to last just a little longer.

Yunho began rolling his hips against yours, and you immediately realized that everything had changed. Every movement felt heightened, every brush of his length inside you sent a sharper sensation through your body. A breathless whine escaped your lips as your arms tightened around him, your body instinctively falling into the slow rhythm he set.

The orgasmic peak was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. It didn't hit all at once the way it usually did; rather, you were edged into a high that seemed to never end. You spilled onto Yunho and kept spilling over and over again. Your laps were soaked, and still, he continued to suck.

He sucked until you were breathless, until the music faded and the partygoers disappeared one by one. He sucked until you were limp in his arms, your body capable of little more than trembling with each lingering wave that rolled through you. He sucked until the bartender tapped his shoulder, and only then did he finally raise his gaze to find the room behind you completely empty.

Only then did he finally stop drinking.

He pressed a lingering kiss to the twin marks on your neck before trailing gentle kisses along your jaw until they found your lips. He tasted faintly of blood, and somehow he felt warmer than he had before... or perhaps it was you who had grown cold.

You kissed him back for as long as you could, but the little strength you had left quickly abandoned you. Your body gave in, and you slumped against his shoulder, too drained to hold yourself upright.

"I'm tired," you mumbled through a yawn as your arms slipped around his neck, instinctively seeking the comfort of his embrace.

Yunho's entire body went rigid, as though he'd never expected you to cling to him so willingly. The surprise lingered for only a moment before he relaxed, wrapping an arm securely around you as he rose to his feet. Your legs remained wrapped around his waist, and without another thought, you kissed his neck.

"Where are we going?" you murmured, your eyes never opening. You weren't sure you even cared where he was taking you, but the question escaped on impulse.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I nearly drank you dry because you tasted so good, bunny," he confessed, adjusting you higher against him. "Did you really think I was just going to let my perfect prey walk away?"

"You... you're keeping me?" you asked sleepily, more curious than frightened.

He nuzzled against your bite mark, kissing it gently before answering, "I have no intention of biting and releasing you, bunny. You're mine now."

“Yours?” you echoed, the idea sounding strange on your tongue.

“Mhm,” he hummed with a kiss to your temple as he lulled you to sleep.

“Another one for the collection, boss?” a familiar voice called as they held open the door for Yunho, though you were sure he could’ve gotten it himself.

“Not this one,” he replied quietly, as if not to disturb you from nearing sleep. “This one is going to be my pet,” he informed him before speeding off to take you to your new home.

[v3lv3t-th1rst]

☆ baby, i can make that pussy rain, often

pairing: bangchan x f!reader genre: smut, drabble (minors dni) word count: 648 warnings: determined bangchan, bangchan talks you through it if you look closely while walking a mile in louboutins, first time squirting, mating press, creampie (please. do. not. do. it. PLEASE), dom!bangchan in a way, breath play in a way as well????, bangchan burying his face in your tits, lmk if i missed any hehe author’s note: ifinallywrotesomethingpleasedon’tcomeformeifitskindatrash

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

chan had you laying down, legs pressed down on either side of your head, and a pillow strategically placed under your lower back. whimpers and whines falling from your saliva slicked lips right onto his, sharing the same oxygen as if you both needed it to survive. he is not too far behind you though, letting out soft groans and low moans. you two have been going at it for a good hour, however, that was all his plan and not yours.

your sweet boyfriend had learned that you have never squirted before. your past partners couldn’t get the job done and quite frankly you couldn’t either. you have tried before but grew frustrated at the anticlimactic outcome, quite literally. you had decided that you just were one of the few people who weren’t able to do it. chan on the other hand, knew you could and was determined to get you to that point.

your legs trembled beneath his rough grip, overstimulation making its presence known with every orgasm chan provides you. “c-chan… i can’t- fuck! i can’t t-take anymore” you managed to say. “yes you can, baby. need to get you all nice and overstimulated so you can squirt” chan replies, his voice dripping with desire and excitement as he proceeds to plow into your divine cunt. you’ve been down this road many times before and you already know the outcome, you shake your head at his words, “i c-can’t, chan” you respond in a defeated tone. “yes. you. can.” chan replies rather roughly, changing the angle of thrust slightly and continuing his punishing pace.

a gasp was ripped out from your throat as the mushroom tip of his cock rams your sweet spot repeatedly. your whimpers start to get louder and higher in pitch as you feel another orgasm approaching rapidly. “there it is, baby. that’s the spot i was looking for” he spoke softly, biting your bottom lip gently afterwards. as your orgasm nears, you notice the sudden feeling of needing to pee. panic settles in and you try pushing your boyfriend away from you. “c-chan, please stop. i f-feel like i’m g-gonna pee” your voice laced with embarrassment as you try to get him off of you. chan’s eyes light up at your sudden announcement, “that’s it, baby. that’s the sign you’re almost there. you’re gonna squirt. start pushing, push for me” he encourages while placing his hand on your lower abdomen and starts pushing down slightly. he makes sure to keep the same pace and intensity, not wanting to ruin this amazing experience for you.

after a few more thrust, a gush of liquid came out of you. drenching chan’s abdomen and the sheets below you. you let out a pained moan as you squirted, the sensation being too good for your own sake. “fuck, yeah. just like that, keep it coming. i know you got some more in you. fuck… such a sight to see” chan rambles on as you finish squirting, unable to peel his eyes away fromyour sopping pussy. he then came unexpectedly, too lost on the beautiful view in front of him to notice he was close. he growled as he emptied himself inside your warm cunt, burying his face between your gorgeous tits. “i love you so much, my pretty girl. i knew you could do it” he whispers, panting against your skin. you giggle at his words, panting along with him as well. “i love you too, channie. thank you for proving me wrong” you whisper back. your hands soon find their way to his hair, raking your fingers through his locks, trying your best to help calm him down. his hands find your waist, fingers caressing the soft skin, imitating your actions, trying to call you down as well. “let’s do that again, yeah?” he suggests, still out of breath making you laugh at his eagerness.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

taglist: @velvetmoonlght @ackermanftme @xoxomanicpanic @sunnyspade @icravecoffeereallybadrn @archivojjong @babydumplingpandabamboo

[yuyurie]

Teasing ATEEZ members while they are working

Hi im back. I’ve gone through a lot in the past month. I had my university entrance exam, then my driving exam; after that, my prom and graduation (high school). I broke up with my bf, both Yunho and I are going through a breakup lmao. I had to take a trip abroad -drove for 6 hours straight, twice-, I arrived home two days ago, and there has been a network shortage in my house for over a month, and I'm basically so exhausted and feel drained. But I'm trying to get better~~ I'll try to post frequently. Hope you guys like this, I appreciate any likes, comments, and reblogs. <3

Warnings - NSFW (mdni)

[maho6any]

morning dew

i also cannot stop thinking about the man thats making everyone gay

bf!san x f!reader

content: morning intimacy, clingy!san, munch!san, san loves talking to his girl(not you 1% of the time), oral, fingering, strong armsmsm...

wc: 1.5k

thinking about san...

you hated to be one of those girls, but your boyfriend was heaven.

he feels like his bones were made to accommodate the slope of your hands along his neck and along his mountainous shoulders. you liked stirring swirls with the tips of your acrylics into his messy black hair in the morning.

the sun streams through the half-broken blinds of your apartment, blanketing san in a patterned ray of light. his gentle eyes closed sleepily, practically purring at the feel of your hands and your body warmth beneath him. you lie with your back against the headrest, pillows stuffed beneath your lower back, whilst san lounges comfortably with his head in your lap.

his big, soft hands hold your thighs together like a pillow he fears will iceberg beneath his ear. the comforter is thrown haphazardly over your bed, the fitted sheet lifting off the corners of the mattress. proof of a… busy night.

every time you all but shift beneath him, he grumbles and holds your thighs together. “move again, and i’ll lock your legs together.”

tempting, but you did not need to rile him up this early in the morning. san was much like a cat. cute, fickle. particular.

you wont sit still? he'll do something to help you to relax.

the fingers on your thighs splay wider as if to grab more of your flesh, and he turns his head and begins dusting the tops of your thighs with kisses.

“my sweet, pretty girl.” san murmurs against your skin, a teasing, pouty tone to it. this is how it starts. with buttering you up.

he moves the blanket so his broad shoulders are exposed to the gold morning light, the grey tanktop doing little to hide the proof of his hard work. he can almost feel the way your eyes laser in on his back, and he can't help but smile as his wandering hands move to slip your panties down your legs smoothly. his warm kisses never cease, sensual and promising.

your hands slip away from his hair in surprise, and he nearly throws a fit as he grumbles and grabs your wrists and brings them back to the top of his head. his hands are back on your body in no time, holding both sides of your waist as you might melt through his fingers and massaging your hips with that perfect amount of pressure.

the feeling evokes a content sight out of you, and you find your upper body stretching subconsciously.

“there we go, big stretch, babydoll. good morning to you too,” san teases you with that stomach-flipping grin, and you narrow your eyes to tease him back. he, however, drags his worked, big hands down your waist, along the curve of your hips, back down to your thighs, where he wastes no time in spreading your legs in a way that can only be described as greedily.

“i wanna say good morning to her too…” he growls very quietly under his breath, hastily pushing your thighs back and up against your stomach. “she's always so happy to see me.”

the evidence of “her excitement” is clear: strings of arousal that cling to your lips, spread nice and pretty from the way san holds your legs open. his hands travel along your outer thighs, up your sides, all the while his head lowers between your thighs, eager.

“you were excited first,” you attempt to retort, to resume some semblance of control. you knew you had none; you were so weak for him. and when his heated tongue lay flat against your cunt, and his thumbs pressed into your lower stomach, you had only been proven right.

he squeezed your body like a stress toy, the muscles in his back twitching with every register of your taste. he moaned, so prettily. his mouth moved slowly and deliberately. leisurely, open-mouth kisses. deep, wide licks and hungry swallows. anyone he could tell he was doing it 100% for you would know he was lying if they saw and heard the way san was making out with your pussy.

your head falls back against the headboard, the bones in your legs liquefying as your boyfriend eats breakfast.

“hello, beautiful,” he purrs into a suckling kiss against your clit, and you feel an overwhelming mix of emotions come over you. you grip his hair harder, and he bites his bottom lip with a grin and a laugh as he spits between your pussy lips.

shame, embarrassment, arousal that burned too bright, it ached low in your stomach. you hated it when he talked to your cunt. but the way your stomach tightened in response spoke volumes every time.

when he starts kneading your lower stomach, deep and slow like he was working knots out of you, and gently kitten licking right under your clit, you pull his hair so hard he hisses in pain.

“aww, baby, you’re making this so hard for me.” san pouts and one of his hands lightly smacks your stomach. “i'm tryna keep you clean, but you won't stop dripping all over the sheets, always so messy!”

you sniffle and moan, one of his hands falling away from your waist and slithering between your legs, gathering the stickiness he's pulled out of you all over his middle fingers.

your body twitches at the new touch, and san moans long and low around your clit as he slides his fingers knuckle deep inside you, quick to scrape against that spot, and stars were bursting at the back of your skull.

“d-oh fuck… s-san, mmm…” your words dissolved into mindless, blissful pleasure. a horny smile spreads across your lips as san pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt.

“my gorgeous, sloppy girl.” san slurs against your pussy, his eyebrows furrowing as he eats you like he was imagining it was your lips. his eyes close and his hand squeezes tighter, his thumb presses deeper. his fingers curl harder inside of you, his tongue turns merciless against your clit, and his moans drag feelings out of you that should be illegal.

for some reason, you just could not take it this morning; it all felt so intense for some unknown reason. your hips bucked against his mouth, his fingers repeatedly caught on the ridge inside of you, and your legs began to shake.

san pouts and clicks his tongue out of pity, moving his fingers in deep, wavelike strokes that made your throat feel like somebody was trying to pull it out of you through your stomach. “aww, babydoll, you’re shuddering. it feels so wrong when you cum without me kissing you.”

this is true. he loves to drink your noises when you cum, feel the warmth of your teeth as you shatter on his dick, fingers, abs… etc. he would normally abandon the meal and just finger you until you snap, but, god. he couldn't stay away from your pussy.

warm and sweet and wet. your plush thighs hugging his ears like muffs. your nails against his scalp like a reminder of how he makes you feel. he frowns, like some innocent, wronged cat whose tail you’ve stepped on. but the way his fingers curl and the way he kisses your clit tell different stories.

the hand still holding your waist, and effortlessly your body against the bed, lands another slap against your stomach, and your limbs jerk.

“c’mon, let go, sweet girl. cum. it'll feel so good if you do, and it’ll make me sooo happy,” and he really couldn’t help himself at this point. his lips suction to your clit one last time, pulling away with a wet pop, wasting no time and lifting himself and swallowing your parted lips in a heavy kiss.

his fingers fucked you faster, his thumb moving up to circle your slick clit in place of his unfair mouth. he nibbles your bottom lip with a grin and kisses you so deep with a desire to take you can’t find your breath.

“don't you wanna make me happy, babydoll?” he practically begs into your mouth, and everything inside of you screams to make your heaven of a boyfriend happy. you cum so hard you would’ve thought he was fucking you.

then again, that's how it is with san every single time, and you still haven't gotten tired of it. he just knows what to do, so assertive, so caring, such a man.

coming down from your high, your grip onto his tanktop and bury your face into his neck, huffing and puffing, whining softly as his fingers slowly circle inside of you, working it out as he whispers praises in your ear.

you breathe in the smell of his cologne from the day before, and it makes your stomach tingle. vanilla, whiskey, patchouli, something so intoxicating it's hypnotic. the sun paints his tanned skin a radiant gold, and suddenly you get overwhelmed with the urge to bite him.

you do. he complains with a return bite to your shoulder, and you moan in response. he pauses and licks the bite and smiles, squeezing your waist with anticipation.

you’ve riled him up again.

btw the fragrance im refrencing is nightclubbing by celine. he mentioned he wore it in an interview one time and im a huge fragrance nerd and the notes are so sexy

[viasdreams]

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

bangchan and leeknow fighting over you !!

a/n: no one loves minchan the way i love minchan

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [I.N]

Everyone decides to take a guess what Jeongin's girlfriend's favorite thing to do in the bedroom is - and almost everyone gets it wrong.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Jeongin x Fem!Reader Warnings: SPIT, lots of spit, PinV (wrap it before you tap it), tummy bulge/size kink, manhandling, bondage/hands being bound together, pussy spanking, spanking in general

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- This is the last installment of this series !! It's finally coming to an end.~

Word Count: 2.2K

"Why does Hyunjin get to go first?" "Because he's already between her legs, I guess."

"Would you two shut up? This is all for educational purposes. You need to watch and learn; Because I'm about to prove to you that I know what her biggest kink is." Hyunjin's head whips to face the two that bicker about him, Jisung stepping back and Felix letting his arms cross over his chest. "Ayen-ah's let on before that she really likes this one." His thumb finds your clit, flicking over the bundle of nerves and you finally give him a soft reaction to work with, your eyes slipping shut and hands curling against your chest in awe.

Felix lets out a heavy breath that ends in a soft whine, his head tipping to the side to get a better look at where his Hyung's cock begins to prod at your folds - and Felix can't help but stare as he slowly sinks into your warmth, wishing it were himself instead. "That's not fair.."

"So what exactly is the kink here...? Or is this just one big excuse to fuck your friend's girlfriend?" Chris quips off to Hyunjin's right, peering almost just over his shoulder to watch as the younger's cock sinks further into you. ".. Going in raw?" He questions shortly after, realizing Hyunjin hadn't slipped a condom on before pushing into you.

And Hyunjin sighs, tongue prodding at the corner of his mouth as he listens to the others continue to bicker about him just wanting to have sex with you.

But then Jisung sees it.

The way your skin tightens; The way your stomach bulges each time Hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward. The way your head tips back as he leans down over you and whispers for you to feel it, guiding one of your hands away from your chest to instead press down on the very place his cock prods and rocks against. "..Bulging..." He whispers, lips parted in surprise at the sight in front of them.

"That's.. a pretty close second." Jeongin hums. He sits back against the headboard as he watches his Hyung rock into you slowly; He was lucky he got to fuck you at all - with Jeongin's permission of course - so he was going to do it with the utmost care. "But that's definitely not top spot."

Jisung practically barks from where he stands behind Hyunjin, reaching to tug on his shoulder. "I knew that wasn't going to be it-! Move, it's my turn." And to many of their surprise, the artist lets himself be pulled away from your sweetness.

Just as expected, Jisung moves forward instead to test his theory. If he could get this right with his one guess he would win the bet. And the prize... God, he's never imagined something so wonderful in his entire life. One hand drops to lay on your thigh while the other reaches to undo his belt - and he watches your eyes widen in surprise at his bold move, thinking he'd won already. Your lips pop apart and you're sure you're about to drool at the way his fingers curl around the buckle and rip it wide open, his belt dragging through the loops of his jeans in such a quick and slick manner that you're sure this is a practiced move. With your reaction he was sure he just ended the bet.

Jeongin almost moves to ask Jisung what he's going to do with that belt, hoping there's no impact about to be made with the accessory - but he simply sits up and stays quiet as he watches Jisung wrap the thick, heavy leather around your wrists to keep them snug together. Your soft gasp of anticipation feeds into Jisung's delusion that he was winning the bet, letting him pin your arms down above your head before he leans in to smile right in your face. "You like bondage, don't you, angel?"

And your smile grows, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you nod. "I do; I really, really do. But..." Jisung's heart sinks as you giggle. "It's not my favorite."

"Hah!" Changbin's laugh basically spews from his lips in a visual syllable, his arms previously crossed over his chest now gesturing to Jisung to skidaddle. "Go. She said you lost the bet so get off 'er and let someone else have a turn." His lips pull into a soft smirk, parted and exposing the way his tongue pokes between his teeth like he has ideas of his own to try out.

But someone else is just a tad quicker with wanting to win the bet. As soon as Jisung moves off of the bed in front of you to go sit beside Jeongin in defeat, Minho is right there to take his place; Only he doesn't crawl onto the bed to get to you and instead stands at the edge of it, feeling as though he looms over your still-bound body displayed for them so openly atop the sheets.

Your wrists stay above your head as you crane your neck to look at the man standing so close yet so far, only to have your head bounce back against the mattress from the force of Minho's hand locking around your right ankle tight enough you're sure it might bruise. He wastes no time in dragging you to where he stands so he's properly positioned between your legs, his eyes dark as they drag over every curve that comes to him so swiftly. And no one in the room can ignore the way you yelp at the feeling of being manhandled.

Calloused palms and rough fingertips run up the outer expanse of your thighs, coming nowhere near close to your warmth as they wander higher. He grips at your hips and gives them a teasing squeeze, feeling the way your skin presses between his fingers; So soft, so tempting. With careful but fairly stiff and rough movements, the muscle in his biceps tightens and flexes as he flips you from your back to your front - your face down and ass up for him. A position most would expect when it came to the resident ass-lover of the group. "There we go."

And with the way you moan the moment your face hits the sheets everyone in the room can almost guarantee Minho had won the bet fair and square. That was until your head slowly lifted from where it pressed against the mattress, breathing heavy with eyes dragging up towards your boyfriend where he sat now in front of you - smirking and letting his arms slowly cross over his chest. "You gonna tell them, baby, or do I have to?"

"There's no way that wasn't it." But Seungmin steps forward to test his luck anyway. Even if Minho won the bet just now, he wanted to get his own needs met, his palm smacking down hard on the bare skin of your asscheeks twice before he brought his hand lower and let it meet the wetness of your folds. That gets you to jolt, a sharp gasp escaping swollen lips.

The way you whimpered against the satin of your sheets almost made Seungmin think he was right about his guess, but the glance and small shake of Jeongin's head seemed to secure the realization that he was wrong, too. Seungmin sighs out and brings his hand down harder than before, making you flinch and moan loud - just for him, considering he'd been spanking you for his own satisfaction at that point. May as well let him know you appreciated it while it happened - and that you were open to it in the future, too, of course.

"I'm starting to think we're never going to guess it," Chris murmurs from where he stands near Changbin, leaning against the wall just to watch as everyone took guess after guess. "Maybe we should start going for softer kinks? Stuff that's less harsh...?"

Changbin shakes his head almost immediately. "She seems like the type who would like impact play or something, though. Do we need to go for something more extreme..?"

"What if it's got something to do with toys?" Jisung quips quietly, seated on the edge of the bed and fighting hard not to beg for another chance at winning the bet.

While the producers babbled on to each other about where to go from their current point, Felix stepped forward from where he'd been observing the entire time the others tried to figure out what it was you liked. You'd reacted well to everything they'd done so far; Hyunjin's size, Jisung's restraining, Minho's manhandling, and then Seungmin's spanking. There was no way in Hell you didn't enjoy the more hard-hitting kinks and the like - so he was going to take his chance while the others whined to each other about losing the bet. Besides, they were working against each other - not with.

"Move." Felix hums, gently nudging Minho aside. The older of the two surprisingly complies with ease and steps aside to watch Felix with close eyes, his hands settling on your ass before rubbing down to your hips. There's no hold, no grabbing - no slapping, spanking, bruising or restraining. No, Felix's hands are gentle as they rub over your skin, smoothing down the swell of your ass before giving a teasing squeeze and trailing lower. He settles his hands along your thighs before using his thumbs to spread your pussy open just for him to see - and for Minho to get a glance at.

Chris tips his head as he watches, eyes drawn away from Jisung and Changbin when Felix had stepped forward to take a shot at the prize. "Felix, wait. We should figure out what --"

But then he stops, lips popping apart in pure surprise at the utter filthiness of the younger man placed behind you.

Just as you lift your head to peek up in slight confusion at their constant rambling - and the feeling of someone's hands on you from behind who definitely was not Minho - Felix spits on your pussy.

It splatters on the pink of your skin, mixing with the slick that seems to gush from your aching, empty hole - and Felix watches as you clench around nothing in desperation. Yeah, he'd just won the bet.

"Shit," falls from Hyunjin's lips before he can help it, staring down the brunet who he wasn't aware until now was quite so.. dirty. His eyes dart from Felix over to where you lay, your reaction giving everything away; The way you bury your face down in the sheets as a strangled and shy moan rips from your throat; The way your cheeks burn a crimson hue none of them had seen all night. Even your ears tint pink in embarrassment that your dirty little secret had been revealed.

Jeongin, finally sitting forward and reaching to cup your cheeks in one of his hands, tips your head to face him so you can't quite hide away from them no matter how much you want to. "Look at me," he demands, voice soft but firm with instruction. "Open." And the others watch as you obey so sweetly for your boyfriend, lips falling apart and jaw completely slack so he can spit right onto your tongue - your mouth closing so you can swallow it before whimpering out in need of more.

And Felix - well, he's in Heaven. He'd took his shot and won the bet, belt everyone else out of the water no matter how hard they tried to figure you out - and he'd done it just by standing back and watching. His chest swells with pride and excitement at the knowledge that now, he got to receive his prize; That being you for at long as he wanted - or as long as he could last, he supposed. There was no way he was giving you back up to Jeongin before he was milked dry. And what kind of a friend would he be if he didn't pump you full before he returned you to your rightful owner?

"Get out." His voice is low in his chest, demanding everyone else leave so he could have his time with you. He needed it more than anything at the moment - you two shared the exact same kink and he was sure now he'd put that knowledge to good use, maybe even treat you so well with it that you wouldn't want to go crawling back to your boyfriend. But more importantly, you needed it, too, what with the way you were still clenching around nothing and just begging for him to spit on your pretty pussy again.

As the others file out the bedroom door, Jeongin chuckles low in his throat and leans forward to give you a quick kiss before he departs. His thumb slides over your cheek, gentle and soft - soothing before the heated, lust-filled ache that was bound to come in the following hours. His lips were like Heaven - like home - as they pressed against yours in a promise that once Felix was done with you - done with his reward for winning the bet and getting to use you like a toy for as long as he wanted - he would return and greet you with a warm embrace to give you as much care as you needed. Not that he doubted Felix would treat you well. Jeongin took a moment to peek down at where your wrists were still bound together with Jisung's belt, moving a hand down to hook a finger around the leather to give a gentle tug. He smiled against your lips, thumb tugging at the lower as he slowly pulled away to whisper,

"I'm going to leave this here. Good luck, baby."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[mingi-s-dimples]

Scented Shadows - Wooyoung

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - REQ. BY @la-undercover-latina

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR LOVE AND READERRRRR IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAYYY HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY ^^ (on 26th october, idk if it's still 26th for you or not 😞)

~"Werewolf!Wooyoung can smell your heat coming before you know. And he doesn’t have any plans of you leaving his side during your heat."

pairing: werewolf!wooyoung x half human/half werewolf fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth, werewolf au

summary: I don't even know what to write bro.. let's just say that your boyfriend senses your heat moments before you do and well... he fucks you *senselessly*.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: pureblood werewolf!wooyoung, cocky wooyoung, he kinda teases the hell out of reader, fingering, finger-fucking, tying up her hands to the headboard, manhandling at it's finest, did I say he's cocky?, monster cock wooyoung agenda (obvi, he's a werewolf), lots of cummm, two rounds and *def* implied multiple next rounds, fucking against the wall, ass slapping & squeezing, overstim, orgasms (both m&f), slight possessiveness, at first he's really sweet and all about her first heat around him but uhm he's Wooyoung so expected the unexpected, making out, biting, marking, breast fondling, slight nipple sucking, he's so damn talkative I'm going insane, unprotected, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: *wooyoung brainrot* please. I went *insane* writing this. I don't even have words to explain how many *horny* breaks I had to take because it turned me the fuck on while writing? Anyways, @woolysium , you might enjoy this too ^^ you'll see it when you'll wake up 😭😭 I can't wait to see your reaction (3:24am for me, 8:24 am for her as we speak). As for you, my dear love, @la-undercover-latina , I hope you'll enjoy this lil fic for your birthday ^^. I had fun writing it, hihi 🤍 Happy birthday once again and.. enjoy !!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The dim glow from the TV cast flickering shadows across Woooyoung's sharp features, his warm hand resting on yours, and his other draped over the back of the couch. You felt so safe beside him, nestled in a cocoon of blankets, his heat and presence a comfort. The movie played on, though you hadn’t been paying much attention to it, stealing glances at him every few minutes. It felt like you’d finally found a moment of peace, a moment that felt untouched by the usual chaos that came with being half-werewolf, half-human. With Woooyoung, you could forget that you were anything but his.

You settled in closer, the cozy room filled with nothing but the hum of the TV and his occasional laugh or quiet, whispered comment, always managing to bring a smile to your face. It was so effortless, so natural, being around him. As much as Woooyoung had a reputation for his playful mischief, there was a seriousness, a depth in the way he cared for you that caught you off-guard sometimes. He had always been protective, a pureblood with instincts that ran deep, strong and unmistakable—yet he’d shown nothing but patience and care for your half-blood nature, never letting it matter more than the person you were. He was your haven in ways no one else could be.

But then, all of a sudden, you felt the shift. Woooyoung's hand tightened around yours, his thumb slowing as it traced gentle circles on your knuckles. His gaze, once relaxed and lazy as he watched the movie, suddenly sharpened, an intense focus clouding over his usually warm eyes. You blinked, unsure if you were imagining it, but you felt the change ripple through him—a silent charge in the air that prickled over your skin, setting your pulse racing before you even understood why.

“Woo?” you murmured, nudging his shoulder lightly, hoping to bring him back to the moment.

He turned to you, his eyes holding a glint that hadn’t been there before, something deep, primal, and entirely possessive. You felt his gaze sweep over you, an almost hungry intensity that seemed to unnerve him just as much as it did you. It was then that you realized the warmth spreading through you, a heat unfurling from somewhere deep inside, slowly overtaking your senses. It was subtle, creeping up on you like the steady build of a storm on the horizon. The realization struck hard, a mixture of shock and nerves that made your cheeks burn.

Your heat.

This was the first time it had happened around Woooyoung, and you weren’t even sure how to process it. As a half-werewolf, your cycles had always been unpredictable, never quite like those of full-blooded wolves, but now there was no denying the signs—the way your pulse quickened, your skin tingled, and every sense seemed to be dialed up to ten. It was unmistakable, and judging by Woooyoung’s expression, he had picked up on it before you even had.

“Woooyoung, it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady, though you could hear the tremor in it. “Really. I can handle this.”

But he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your flustered expression. “Can you?” he asked softly, his voice a rougher, deeper rumble than usual. “Because from where I’m sitting… it doesn’t seem like you should be handling this alone.”

There was no mistaking the edge in his voice, an unmistakable possession, a fierceness that seemed to run far deeper than his usual protectiveness. He was close now, his hand moving from yours to gently cup your jaw, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was warm, grounding, but you could feel the restraint there, the careful control that kept him from holding you tighter, pulling you closer.

“Woooyoung,” you whispered, trying to keep the tension at bay. “I just… I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think I’d be… around you when it happened.” Your voice faltered, embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted your chin up, his gaze unrelenting, filled with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. “This is your first heat with me around, isn’t it?” he asked, though it was more a statement than a question. His jaw clenched, a glint of possessiveness flashing in his gaze that made your breath catch.

“Yes…” you managed, the word barely a whisper.

He nodded, a satisfied sound rumbling from him as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I thought so. I could tell something was different tonight.” His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair in a way that was as much comfort as it was claim. “And you think I’d just leave you to handle this on your own?” he asked, his voice laced with a quiet intensity that sent warmth pooling through you.

“No, but…” You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to keep things from spiraling into uncharted territory. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He let out a low chuckle, a sound so full of warmth and affection that it sent a shiver through you. “Trust me, the only thing that makes me uncomfortable is the idea of you feeling like you have to hide this from me.” His hand found yours again, and he held it tightly, his thumb brushing over your skin in soothing, grounding strokes. “You’re mine. All of you—everything you are, everything you feel. I want to be here with you, for all of it. So don’t try to push me away, especially not now.”

His words left no room for argument, each one infused with a strength that was as reassuring as it was intoxicating. The intensity in his gaze softened slightly as he watched you, his expression warm, protective, and so full of care that you felt your guard slip, the tension easing from your shoulders.

“Alright,” you breathed, giving in to the pull of his words, the comfort of his presence. “I just… I didn’t want this to change things between us.”

Woooyoung let out a quiet sigh, pulling you into his arms, his embrace warm and solid, a barrier against all your worries. “It doesn’t change anything,” he said firmly, his lips brushing your forehead. “If anything, it just means I get to be here for you in a way I haven’t before. I want to be here, *need* to be here.”

You could feel the depth of his emotions, the fierceness of his resolve, and it made something in your chest tighten, warmth spreading through you as you sank into his hold, letting him steady you.

As he held you, his hands gentle yet possessive, you realized that there was nothing to fear, nothing to hide. Woooyoung was here, steadfast and unflinching, a presence as constant as the stars outside the window. And for the first time, you felt truly safe in the knowledge that this was something you didn’t have to face alone.

---

The room felt suddenly warmer, the soft glow from the TV screen casting a low, intimate light over the two of you. Woooyoung’s hands lingered where they held you, one hand cradling your face with a tenderness that sent tingles down your spine, while his other hand traced slow, deliberate circles against the small of your back, his thumb grazing over the thin fabric of your shirt. His gaze, dark and intent, held yours, and you felt your breath catch as his eyes dipped to your lips.

“You don’t have to hold back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his breath fanning across your face as he leaned closer. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently through your hair as he tilted your head up, his thumb stroking along your jaw in a way that left you feeling dizzy, each touch grounding you and yet sparking something electric, something that was growing impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t deny the fire that was building inside, the heat that seemed to flare each time he touched you, each time his gaze lingered on you. Your heart raced, your pulse hammering in your ears as you felt yourself leaning into him, drawn to the warmth of his skin, the steady, grounding presence of him against you.

“Woo,” you whispered, though it came out breathier than you intended, your voice thick with the intensity of your own need. You felt yourself slipping, your usual control slipping with it as his fingers trailed down your neck, pausing at the delicate line of your collarbone before slowly moving down your arm, igniting every inch of skin beneath his touch.

Woooyoung’s breath hitched as he drew closer, his face only a whisper away from yours, his gaze flickering over every detail, taking you in like he was memorizing you, savoring the moment. The possessiveness in his expression was unmistakable, mingling with the tenderness in his touch as his thumb brushed over the curve of your cheek, a small, reverent gesture that somehow left you feeling even more breathless.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he murmured, his voice thick, a little rough around the edges, his breath warm against your skin. “But God, I can’t stand the thought of letting you go through this alone. Not when I’m right here, not when I can be here for you.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw, soft and barely there, but enough to send warmth pooling in your chest, spreading through you in waves. You felt your own breath hitch, the sensation of his closeness, his warmth and touch, intoxicating in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

He pulled back just slightly, his gaze finding yours, his hand still at the back of your neck as he ran his thumb over your skin, the gesture gentle, grounding. “Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he whispered, though you could see the way his eyes darkened as he watched you, his own control beginning to slip. “But if you don’t… let me be here for you.”

Your voice caught in your throat, the words escaping you as you looked up at him, feeling the full force of his gaze. The restraint, the tension in his muscles as he held himself back, all for you, all for your sake, made something in you ache. But it was his tenderness, the care in his eyes, that undid you.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, the words barely a breath as you met his gaze, your cheeks flushed, heart pounding as you gave in to the pull between you. His eyes softened, a look of relief crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft and gentle at first, but that quickly deepened, his hand tightening at the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.

Your heat flared, the intensity of your need rising with each kiss, each gentle brush of his lips, each time his hands roamed over your skin with a reverence that left you breathless. Woooyoung’s hands moved to your waist, his touch warm, possessive as he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours, his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more fervent.

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you pressed yourself closer, losing yourself in the warmth of him, the steady, grounding presence that kept you anchored even as the heat within you burned brighter, hotter with each passing second. Woooyoung’s breath hitched as your hands traced over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, his pulse quickening in sync with yours.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his hand still at the small of your back, keeping you close, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles that only served to make your heart race faster.

Woooyoung’s fingers grazed the hem of your shirt, hesitating just a second before he tugged it up, his eyes never leaving yours as he carefully pulled it over your head. The shirt fell away, leaving you feeling suddenly vulnerable under his gaze, his eyes taking in every detail, a mix of admiration and possession reflected in the warmth of his gaze. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes that sent shivers down your spine, grounding you in the tenderness of his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a reverence that made your heart stutter. His hands moved with a deliberate gentleness as he traced along your collarbone, the warmth of his fingers making you melt under his touch, every movement sending waves of warmth through you. His hand drifted lower, coming to rest at your waist, fingers curling around you with a possessiveness that left you breathless.

Your own hands moved to his shirt, the need to feel him, to be closer, urging you forward as you tugged at the fabric, pulling it up and over his shoulders. His skin was warm, the muscles beneath tensing slightly as you traced your fingers over his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, the way his breath hitched under your touch. He watched you intently, a softness in his gaze as he let you explore, his hands never leaving your skin, holding you close as he soaked in every moment, every reaction.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice gentle, his thumb tracing small, grounding circles against your waist as he watched you with a concern that left you feeling safe, even as the intensity between you continued to build.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely audible as you met his gaze, your own cheeks flushed, heart racing as you leaned into him. There was a vulnerability in this closeness, a sense of connection that went beyond words, beyond touch, and as he held you, every ounce of doubt faded, replaced by the warmth of his presence, his tenderness.

Woooyoung’s fingers moved to the waistband of your pants, his gaze flicking back to meet yours, seeking silent permission. When you nodded, he carefully slid them down, his touch gentle and reverent, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, his gaze filled with awe and something deeper, a need that was matched by his control, his dedication to being there for you in every way you needed.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held you, his hands resting at your waist, pulling you close, grounding you in the warmth, the safety of his embrace. The two of you sank back onto the couch, the world outside fading away as you let yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, the steady, grounding presence of him there beside you, as if he was your world, and you his.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you, Woooyoung, and the warmth that blossomed between you, a connection that went beyond anything you’d ever felt before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth, a tenderness that left you breathless.

You felt yourself melt into him, the warmth of his hands, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips grounding you as he leaned in, capturing your lips once more. His kiss was tender, reverent, filled with a care and devotion that left you feeling weightless, swept up in the warmth and safety of him.

For now, nothing else mattered.

"H-haven't been like this before" your breath hitched, barely above a whisper.

"Neither did I see you like this.. but who am I to complain? How I'd love to fuck you right now until you can't walk tomorrow.." he smiled playfully, eyes wandering all over you.

Your attitude suddenly changes, feeling provoked by his words. "Hah, if you can even compete with my heat, baby".

"Jokes on you... I'm sometimes able to coordinate my heat to other werewolfs... but you weren't aware of that, were you, my love?"

You gulped.

"What do you mean..?" you muffled, barely above a whisper. Did you have any reason to be.. scared? No, he wouldn't hurt you, never. But.. his heats were *intense*.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. "It means," he murmured, "that tonight, you're not getting away from me." His fingers trailed along your arm, igniting sparks that made your skin prickle. "You’re right to be nervous... but not for the reasons you think."

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with a thrill you couldn’t deny. Every inch of you felt hyperaware of his presence, the primal energy simmering just beneath the surface. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you struggle with your composure.

"Tell me to stop," he dared, his gaze locked onto yours, a playful challenge lingering in his eyes. "Or... surrender."

His words hung in the air, a tantalizing choice dangling between the two of you, "you also clearly...need it" he peeked between your legs, arousal already dripping from your panties.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, the gravity of his challenge sinking in. The weight of his gaze held you there, pulling you deeper into the intensity of the moment. You tried to form words, but they tangled on your tongue, every coherent thought slipping through your grasp as his presence consumed your senses.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as you whispered, "I... I don’t want you to stop."

A triumphant glint sparked in his eyes, and he moved closer, his hand reaching up to gently cradle your face. His thumb brushed along your cheek, a delicate touch in stark contrast to the fire blazing behind his gaze. "Then surrender to me completely," he murmured, his voice like velvet, dark and alluring.

With a slight tilt of his head, he pressed his lips to yours, slow and intoxicating. The kiss was a promise, a claim, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You melted against him, feeling the strength and warmth of his hold. The tension between you shifted, giving way to a raw, undeniable pull that neither of you could ignore.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "Tonight, you’re mine." His words hung in the air, sealing the promise of a night you would never forget.

From the tender, sweet guy he was at first when he first sensed your heat... he became the primal instinct-driven man you'd always see and.. feel, on your own, whenever Wooyoung was in heat.

He suddenly lifted you in his embrace and threw you on the mattress in your shared bedroom. You slightlt got up on your elbows but were soon pushed down by Wooyoung, his right hand holding you eagerly by your throat. He undressed himself and smirked at you. That *damned* smirk... the one that was telling you that you're basically.. done for.

"Let's see if you keep yourself true to your words, baby." and as soon as he finished his words, he leaned in for a kiss. At first it was a slow, deliberate kiss, then it deepened and became more needy, lustful, craved. His tongue interlocking with yours, sloppy and playful sounds could be heard.

You loved that Wooyoung was so.. talkative, and loud whenever he was in a heat. It actually turned you the fuck on.

He took his belt from the pants he threw on the floor a moment ago and tied up your hands thighly, right above your head to the headboard. He then spread out your legs forcefully, your body arching against the linen. He ripped off your soaked panties and threw them somewhere. He got rid of his briefs, too, his huge girthy and lengthy cock springing out angrily, waiting for any kind of action. He then slightly positioned himself closer to you, one hand going between your legs, one on his cock.

"Nhh-, please.." you mumbled.

"*Please* what, darling? I can't quite.." he pushed 2 of his fingers right inde your cunt, receiving a soft moan from you, "hear you" he pushed another one, making it 3 fingers. Your back arched against his touch as he started finger-fucking your rapidly, the hand on his cock moving, too. As he started stroking his length, you tried moving up and down on his fingers, trying to get to feel him way more and deeper.

"Try to stay quiet if you can.. I dare you"

"Huh? I- Wooyoung-ah!" you moaned his name loudly as he positioned himself to your cunt and fully thrusted in, no warning before he started fucking you rapidly and roughly. ""I want to see how far I can push you.. see where your limits really are."

As Woooyoung was senselessly ramming into you, his hands roamed in your body, his lips too. They went from your thighs which he kissed and, at first, softly bite, to your belly where he harshly sucked your skin and left marks all over, then to your collarbones and breasts where his lips found their way to your now-hardener nipples. He suck them off for a long minute at the same time he was fucking you, sending shivers through your whole body.

"I love the way you react to me. All those little shivers... I could do this all night" he cockily said, thrusting even more rapidly, breath hitching in his throat as he leaned in for a soft kiss. As he pulled back and saliva dripped from your lips, he looked down at his cock going in and out of you rapidly. He saw your face flushed, not being able to look in his eyes. "Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you dare look away—I want to see every second you lose control."

He flipped you over. Yes, his cock was still inches deep inside you, but he flipped you over and one hand went over to the nape of your neck, pushing your face in the mattress. His left hand, the free one, went to your ass and squeezed it once, then he slappped you hard, leaving a rosy mark on your fair skin. You whined at the rough touch, sound barely above a whisper, face buried in the linen. The same hand from your ass went to rest on the curve of your back, softly pushing himself in way better. He started rapidly fucking you again, but this time with a twist. You could feel him in all your sweets spots, back arching and legs already starting to tremble as you felt your high coming closer and closer.

"Wooyoung, ngh-I'm cl-close...!" you shouted, barely being able to form coherent words. As soon as he understood what you meant, you could basically feel the smirk he gave you a second before his hand travelled between your legs from over your legs and waist, aiming for your cunt. His dick inches in you and ppunding into you, 2 of his fingers circled your swollen clit. You quietly moaned at his touch. As soon as he combined those two motions, ramming and circling your clit, you came down from your high beautifully, creaming on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm and he for sure didn't plan on stopping.

"I know exactly where to touch you, where to push you… look at you coming undone just like I knew you would. Good girl, princess." Woo confidently and cockily said, drops of sweat falling off his head on your chest. "Let's try one.. more. Shall we? I’m going to make sure you feel me in every breath you take."

"Wooyoung wait-!"

"What." he said, confused.

"Slow d-down !" you whispered.

""I'm not stopping until I have you exactly how I want you" he flipped you over on your back again and lifted you up. He pushed you to the uncluttered wall in the room, the headboard behind you slightly breaking when he forced the belt off. Your hands fell to his shoulders, holding onto him thightly. He held you by your ass and pulled you close, making you jump on his cock.

"I love fucking you against a wall so damn much.. and I'm so sad your heat is irregular.. really fucks up my mood. But now? I will make sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow, as I said." and he started kissing your collarbone. He bit you again, this time leaving teeth marks all over.

"You feel so good.. sweetie. I'm so close-" his breath caught up in his throat as he released his load in your cunt, pounding it all up in you. He took his sweet time until he felt satisfied with the amount of thrusts he did and pushed you over the edge, legs trembling around him and hands barely holding onto him. You came down from your high the 2nd time for the night.. and it was not about to be even close to the last one.

"See? This is what you joined in for. How do you feel about it, sweetie?"

"Please just... don't ever stop" you muffled, with teary eyes and a smirk on your face.

He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze flickering with that unmistakable spark. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "we’re nowhere near done. I warned you, didn’t I? Once you’re in, there’s no stopping. And tonight? We’re just getting started."

He tilted his head, brushing his thumb over your cheek, taking in the way your breath hitched at his touch. "Think you can keep up with me?" he asked, letting a confident chuckle slip through as he traced his fingertips along your skin. His expression softened for a moment, but that mischievous glint in his eyes stayed strong, hinting at the intensity yet to come.

NETWORKS:

@illusionnet

@blossomnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium

[hongjoongtime117]

🤤 love cocky Woo 🧎🏻‍♀️

[hrt4yongie]

“don’t run from it, now.” you hear mingi tease as he leans forward, draping his large frame over your back as he drills into your cunt from behind you. you let out a strained moan, eyes rolling back from how good your boyfriends cock feels driving in and out of you. he snakes his large, toned arm around the front of your body, wrapping his toned bicep around your throat and squeezing firmly to cut off airflow. mingi smiles sinisterly at the strangled moan that comes out of you as he watches blood quickly rush to your face.

“there’s a good girl. takin’ all this dick like a fuckin’ pornstar, baby. you my little pornstar, honey?” he teases, hips slamming into your abused cunt and making the most obscene clapping noises as he hits it from behind.

“yeessssss~” you can’t help but moan out as your eyes roll into the back of your head from the pure pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. you gripped his forearm around your neck, completely blissed out from the feeling of mingi’s cock absolutely rearranging your insides.

“going dumb already?” he scoffs, “yeah, you really are just a stupid little cock whore, aren’t you?” he degrades, straightening himself up a bit and pulling you against his chest as he continues to fuck you harshly. he keeps his arm around your neck, pinning you to his body as his cock rams into your leaking cunt. you can barely think of a smart comeback as you feel his other free hand come up to grip one of your tits firmly. “there we go, there’s my good girl.” he babbles, “taking all this fucking cock like a good little slut for me. fuckin’ love this pussy baby.” he praises.

you let out a pathetic whine as you let mingi completely manhandle you and use your body like a pure fuck toy, taking everything he gave you. you felt your body begin to turn into jello as you went numb from the overwhelming pleasure. from mingi’s cock hitting all the right spots in you to his filthy vocabulary, you weren’t doing too well.

idk what this is tbh just take the dom!mingi filth or don’t ok!!!

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Safe Word

pairing: hard dom chan x slightly bratty/sub fem reader

genre: angst? -smut- some fluff at the end. this really is a rollercoaster

word count: ~3k (way longer than i originally intended. whoops)

warnings: established relationship dom/sub dynamics, mean chan, jealous/possessive chan, mentions of fear, hard spanking, orgasm denial, name calling, use of safe word, pet names, mentions of sexual assault, crying

an: idk what happened here. this really got away from me. this is fictional. entirely fictional. so so fictional. chan isn’t like this. he’s my sweetie pie.

masterlist

see.. i personally don’t think chan has anger issues. i hate it when people say that. BUT he does get angry from time to time (as do we all), and i think the hard dom punishments will come out of that anger. normally, his punishments consist of some slightly rough spanking, and lots of love (like this). but if you push him too far.. if you push him to that point (like that one live stream), then shit will get real. the only thing stopping him at that point is a safe word. he doesn’t care if you’re crying, begging him to stop. if you want him to stop, you’ll have to use that safe word. for example….

•

“oh, baby, you look so pretty.” he said, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “and you’re mine? are you sure?”

you giggle at him, grabbing him and pulling him close. he’s smiling at you, dimples out, as you kiss his lips softly. “yes, channie. i’m sure.”

“wow. i’m so lucky. aaaaalllll mine, yeah?” he’s holding you at arms length, so he can look you up and down again. he grabs you by the hand, holding it above your head, motioning for you to twirl for him. you spin in a little circle. he looks ravenous, his tongue coming out briefly to lick his lips, before it pokes into his cheek, trying to hide his smirk.

tonight is a black tie event, and to match with him, you’re wearing a black velvet dress. it hugs your curves nicely and really accentuates the swell of your ass. his hands find their way there, squeezing gently through the fabric.

“the only bad thing about this dress.. is that other men will be looking.” he says, pulling you against his chest.

“let them look,” you said. “maybe i’ll do a little dance for them.” you teased, swaying your hips back and forth.

his smile fell, his eyes darkening just barely enough for you to notice it. “not funny.” he said, deadpan.

ooh, that was kind of sexy, and definitely touched a nerve. you’ll just file that information away in your bratty brain for later.

“cmon, handsome.” you said, pulling him by the hand towards the door. “we’ll be late.”

“handsome?” he blushed.

you pushed him out into the hallway, locking the door behind you, giggling at him. how can he go from angry and domineering to sweet and shy in a matter of seconds?

-

the event was crowded, chan had to leave you with the staff as he walked the red carpet with his members. you stood on the side, watching him, full heart eyes bulging out of your head. he looked so good in his suit, perfectly tailored for him, his wide shoulders and slender waist making you feel giddy. you only got to watch him for a moment however, before the staff were leading you inside to your table. chan and the other members would join you shortly.

your table was near the front of the room, close to the stage. you were sat there, patiently waiting, trying not to pull your phone out of your bag and aimlessly scroll. a small group of people to your left started cheering and when you looked, chan and the boys had entered the room. they waved up toward the crowd that was calling to them, and briefly stopped to talk to another idol group. though they stopped, chan found you immediately. his eyes landed on you, always needing to know where you were and that you were safe. once he located you, you could see his shoulders relax a little and he focused back on the conversation he was having.

“excuse me, is this seat taken?” you look to your right to find a tall man gesturing to the seat next to you. the first thought to cross your mind was: uh yeah, it’s assigned seating, of course it’s taken. but then you had an idea. you remembered the way chan looked back at the apartment at the mention of other men looking at you. you kind of liked that look. and you could feel his eyes on you now, you knew he was watching. so the brat inside you took over, and you looked up at the tall man and said sweetly, “no, not until the show starts.” you smiled.

he pulled out the chair and sat down. now, you knew this was wrong. it was wrong to lead this poor man on when you knew he didn’t have a chance with you, and it was wrong to play with chans emotions like this. but you just couldn’t help yourself. this moment presented itself on a silver platter and you decided to take it.

you had no idea what the man next to you was saying, you were sure he complimented you at some point, and he wouldn’t stop staring at your chest. gross, maybe you didn’t feel bad about doing this to him. but you giggled along, pretending to be enjoying yourself. you could see chan out of the corner of your eye. he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at you. a murderous look on his face, his eyes burning holes into the man next to you. but he didn’t make a move to come closer, that was until the man reached out and put his hand on your bare thigh, just above your knee. chan took a step in your direction, but then stopped himself. you looked down at the man’s hand, and tried to push him off you you, but his fingers tightened. “come on, sweetheart. just let me touch a little.” he said. he refused to let go of your leg, even when you told him to.

you didn’t like that, and neither did chan. anxiety bubbled in your stomach. you didn’t know this man and now he was touching you without your permission and refusing to let go. you were done with your stupid little game and were glad that chan was angrily making his way over to you. glad he was on his way to save you. you should have never done this in the first place. this was a stupid idea.

“mate, you’re in my seat.” chan said. his voice rough. the man looked up at chan and he chuckled. chans expression hardened further, anger radiating off him in waves.

“we were just having a conversation.” the man said, still sitting and still holding your leg.

“you and i are about to have a conversation if you don’t get your fucking hand off of my girl.”

“your girl?” the man smiled. “but she’s the one who told me i could sit. maybe she’s over you.. mate.”

chans hands balled into fists at his sides. you could see him trying to take deep breaths. he didn’t want to loose his temper at an event like this when he was here representing his group and the company.

“princess,” he turned to you. “is this man bothering you?” he asked through his teeth. you looked up at him, his expression scared you, you had never seen him like this. eyes wide, you nodded. “he-he won’t let go of my leg.” you stammered.

chan turned back to the man. “i think she wants you to let go. i suggest you listen to her.”

the other members were surrounding you now, changbin and lee know flanking chan.

the look on the man’s face changed. he slowly removed his hand from your leg. you brought your own hand to your skin, rubbing back and forth, trying to get rid of the feeling of him. the lights slowly flashed on and off, signaling the show was starting. the man stood, bowed very slightly, and then scurried away to his table. chan watched him go before angrily pulling the chair out and sitting next to you.

“channie..” you reached for him.

“don’t.” he cut you off. pulling away from you, he faced the stage and the show began.

•

chan didn’t talk to you for the rest of the event. he was silent, seething. the other members chatted around the table about various things, but no one dared talk to chan. no one really talked to you either, other than felix who asked if you were okay after what happened. the event was reaching its end and everyone was leaving. chan stood and grabbed your hand tightly. he practically dragged you behind him to the car. the whole ride home was just as silent. you thought about what you had done. you may have really fucked up. you didn’t mean for it to go like that, but you have never seen chan like this. he was more mad than you have ever seen him and the silence was only increasing your fear.

he dragged you up to the apartment, unlocking the door. once you were both inside, and the door was shut, chan took off his suit jacket.

“go get on the bed.” he said, calmly. too calmly. you hesitated, almost frozen with fear. he had undone his cufflinks and placed them one by one gently on the counter, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up his forearms. “princess, go get on the bed. i won’t tell you again.”

you made your legs move, carrying you to the bed. you sat on the edge nervously. what were you supposed to do now? you fiddled with the edge of your dress, a million thoughts racing through your mind. what was about to happen? you were scared. you knew that chan would never hurt you. you reminded yourself of that. but the look on his face.. the calmness in his tone.. you worried you had really ruined your relationship. what if he hated you?

he entered the room, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his arms, veins bulging. his tie was gone, the top 2 buttons of his shirt undone. he approached you, slowly. you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on your fingernails, picking at the chipping polish. he used his fingers to tilt your face up to him.

“you get one chance.” he said, holding up his index finger. “one chance to tell me what happened. make it quick.”

“i- i didn’t mean for it to happen like that.” you say quickly, the words nervously spilling out of your mouth.

“don’t lie to me.” he said, his voice a little louder now.

“i just- i wanted to make you a little jealous. that’s all, i promise.”

“you wanted to make me jealous? so you told him he could sit with you, and then you proceeded to flirt with him. is that right?” he was pacing back and forth now, rubbing his hands together. your eyes tracked him.

when you remained silent, he turned to you, fire behind his eyes. “answer me.” he barked.

“yes.” you blurted out.

“stand up.” he motioned with his hand. you stood. he grabbed your arm, roughly turning you around and bending you over the bed. he pulled your dress up to your hips, and pulled your panties down to your ankles.

“listen to me.” he said. you could hear him undoing his belt, the buckle clattering noisily, the sound of the leather through belt loops. “don’t you ever do something like that again. do you understand me?” you nodded your face into the covers, legs shaking with fear. he brought the belt down, the loud smack of leather against skin reverberating around the room. you jerked, fists clutching the blanket. “words.” he ordered. “do you understand me?”

“yes! yes. i understand.” you said, voice shaking.

he brings the belt down again, on your other cheek, your skin red and stinging.

“i’m sorry!” you cried.

he spanked you again. “i bet you are.”

he spanked you one more time before you could hear the belt clatter to the floor. he rubbed his fingertips across your bruised skin, before trailing his fingers down to your leaking core.

“you’re fucking drenched. this was supposed to be a punishment, slut.” he stuffed 2 of his fingers inside you, pumping them in and out roughly. you moaned and squirmed under him, your high approaching, your pussy clenching around his fingers. he pulled them out quickly. he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you over onto your back. “if you think i’m going to let you cum, you’re fucking wrong.” he grabbed you by your hair, his fist at your scalp, and pulled you off the bed. he forced you onto your knees and began unbuttoning his pants. tears were streaming down your face, your ass was sore, your orgasm ruined, and he was still mad at you. would he ever not be mad?

“are you crying, little baby?” he taunted. you looked up at him, barely able to see him through your tears. “poor little slut.” he said. “if you want to act like one, then i’m going to treat you like one.” his cock was out, his pants kicked off to the side. he was pumping himself slowly. “open.” he said, touching his tip to your lips. you opened your mouth and he thrust himself down your throat without warning. you choked for a second before he pulled out, leaving you coughing. “again.” he ordered. you did your best to open your mouth for him. he grabbed fistfuls of your hair and began using your mouth, shoving himself as far down your throat as he could, your nose touching his stomach. it was hard to breathe with your nose clogged from crying and your mouth full of his cock.

you could feel your arousal leaking down your thighs, secretly loving the way he was using you. but hating his angry words. you wanted to be praised. you missed your sweet channie. he shoved his cock back in your mouth, and you reached your hands up, sliding them under his shirt to feel his hard abdomen. he slapped your hands away, and pulled himself out of your mouth.

“only good girls get to touch. sluts get used. hands behind your back.”

you looked up at him pleadingly, bringing your hands behind your back. “please channie.” you sniffled. “i’m sorry.”

“i don’t fucking care.” he spat, grabbing your head again and shoving himself back down your throat. you gagged and sputtered around him, your tears falling faster now, your heart breaking at his words. you needed to stop.

you mumbled your safe word around his cock. but he couldn’t hear you. you tried again but he kept pumping in and out. you tapped his thigh 3 times with the palm of your hand, more like slapping then tapping, and he pulled out.

“re-red” you coughed, sputtering spit onto the floor. he immediately stopped, and he dropped to his knees in front of you. you buried your face in your hands, sobbing.

“hey, hey.” he said, soothingly. he reached for your hands, pulling them from your face. you looked up at him, your eyes bloodshot, your cheeks wet and stained, a look of total devastation on your features. it broke his heart. “baby.. talk to me.” he said.

“baby-y?” you hiccuped.

he cradled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears. “yes. baby.” he said. “you’re my baby.”

a feeling of relief swelled in your chest.

“you promise?” you asked.

he used the hem of his shirt to wipe at your nose. “of course, princess. you’re my baby. you’ll always be my baby.” he stared into your eyes, his own looking a little glsssy. “i pinky promise. and you know i’ve never broken a pinky promise.”

a new sob broke from your chest, but a completely different one altogether. this was a sob of relief, a sob of happiness. you collapsed into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you. “ oh honey..” he said, his voice sounding watery. he rubbed your back soothingly.

“i th-thought you ha-hated me.” you stuttered between sobs.

“i could never hate you, angel.” he cooed. “i was mad. i was really mad.” he pulled back so he could look at you. “i got a little carried away.” he admitted. “i’m sorry, baby. but i promise i don’t hate you. i love you.” he kissed your lips gently. “i love you so much. that’s why i couldn’t stand to see that asshole touching you.”

“i’m sorry too.” you said quietly. “i shouldn’t have flirted with him. i promise i wont ever do it again. please don’t be mad.”

“im not mad anymore.” he said. “you used your safe word. you’ve never had to do that before. and for that, i’m sorry. are you okay?” he looked so defeated, so broken at the thought that he let it get this far.

“i’m okay now.” you assured him. “i’m okay now that i know you’re not mad at me anymore.” you gave him a small smile.

“i’m not mad. but baby,” his tone turned slightly more serious, but still soft. “you can’t do that. you’re mine and it’s not okay for you to flirt with other men, even if you’re only doing it to get a rise out of me.”

“i know.” you nodded. “i know that now.”

“not only that, but that guy basically assaulted you. you can’t put yourself in dangerous situations like that. what if i wasn’t there?”

“i know.” you looked down at your hands, intertwined with his.

“or, what if i lost my temper and beat that guy within an inch of his life for touching you? then i’d loose my job, changbin would be crying, you’d have to come visit me in jail.” you could hear the smile in his voice. “i wouldn’t look good in jail clothes.” he joked.

you giggled at that. he smiled down at you, a look that was so full of love and adoration. you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “i love you, channie. and i’m sorry.”

he smiled against your lips. “i love you baby, and im sorry too.” he kissed you multiple times in quick succession, covering your entire face in kisses. his quick pecking throwing you into a fit of giggles, having complexly forgotten about him being mean, only knowing this sweet cuddly version of him. and he vowed this was the only version you would see from now on.

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

[skz317cb97]

Ngl this legit made me cry. LOOOOOOVED this!

[gingersxng]

Dominate Me

Pairing: f!reader x Mingi

Genre: smut 18+

Summary: your boyfriend allows you to be in charge for one night but the urge to be the one in charge gets too strong when he instead ends up dominating you.

Notes: switch!reader, switch!Mingi ( Mingi’s a dom!), Mingi has a big dick! (OFC), handcuffs, dirty talk, pet names (big boy, horny boy, naughty boy, doll, my girl), blowjob, deep throating, reader is a tease, cowgirl, unprotected sex (DONT), cum cum cum, slight breeding kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, handjob, kissing, mating press, creampie, nasty nasty.

a/n: I’ll be answering more requests soon, I’m sorry for not being very good at that but I promise I’ll be better. Hopefully will write other members more too but being Mingi biased makes it hard to keep my hands off writing about him… I don’t even know if you guys enjoy these anymore??

Words: 1.4k

It was usually Mingi who played the dominant role in the bedroom and you would lie if you said you didn’t like it but you had a secret wish to flip the script and take control for once. And only for tonight, Mingi was willing to indulge you.

You prepared yourself, you put on his favourite new lingerie in dark red lace that he bought you for your 23rd birthday, your heart raced as you laid out the handcuffs on the bedside table, it was the only thing Mingi allowed. You wanted to give Mingi something special, a night where you would show him your dominant side that maybe would get him to change his mind, let you take control from time to time.

Mingi finally entered the bedroom, his tall, muscular frame filling the doorway. His dark damp hair and intense gaze sent a shiver down your spine, he really knew how to make you nervous but it wouldn’t stop you from doing this. He smirked, knowing what was about to unfold and allowed himself to be guided to the bed. You pushed him gently onto the soft mattress, he was scanning your delicate body. His eyes didn’t seem to let go of your soft tits, the push up bra worked as it was designed to.

You snapped him out of it and reminded him that you’re in charge, so it would be non of his perverted actions.

"Tonight, you're all mine," you whispered seductively, your voice laced with a newfound confidence. You straddled his waist and leaned in close capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Mingi responded eagerly, his tongue dancing with yours as your mouths locked together. You could taste the desire in his kiss, a hunger that mirrored your own.

With deliberate movements, you trailed soft kisses down his neck, nipping gently at his sensitive skin. Mingi let out a low moan, his hands instinctively reaching for your tits but you gently pushed them away, reminding him yet again of your roles tonight.

"No touching, my horny boy," you teased, your breath was hot against his ear. "Tonight, I'm in charge."

You reached for the handcuffs, the cold metal contrasting with the heat of his skin. With a quick click, you secured his wrists together to the bedposts, rendering him helpless and at your mercy. Mingi's eyes widened with surprise and a hint of nervous excitement, his cock twitched in his boxers.

"Oh, you naughty boy, enjoying being restrained," you purred, running your fingers along his muscular arms. "Let's see how long you can last before begging for release." You traced your fingers down his chest, playing with the light dusting of hair that led to his happy trail. Your touch was feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through his body. You kissed and nibbled your way down his torso, paying attention to every inch of his skin. Reaching the waistband of his boxers, you paused, teasing him by gently blowing on the bulge that was already straining against the fabric. Mingi squirmed, his dick throbbing with need. You giggled softly, enjoying the power you held over him.

With slow, deliberate movements, you pulled down his boxers, revealing his impressive erection. His dick stood tall and proud, thick veins pulsing with each heartbeat. You admired his cock, knowing the pleasure it could bring but tonight you wanted to tease and torment him first.

Leaning forward, you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, making him gasp and arch his back. You took your time, savoring the salty taste of his skin. Your mouth enveloped the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip making Mingi moan and buck his hips.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy" he groaned. You smiled around his length, taking him deeper down your throat. You sucked and bobbed your head, your wet mouth providing relentless pleasure. Mingi's breath quickened, his body tensed as he fought the urge to climax.

"Not yet, big boy" you whispered, releasing his cock with a pop. "I want you to last."

You dragged your fingers lightly down his enormous length and grabbed the base of his cock, you straddled his waist again, pulling your panties to the side you positioned his throbbing cock at your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, you sunk yourself down on his length, taking him deep inside your hot, wet pussy. Mingi's eyes rolled back as he felt her tightness envelop him.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he grunted, his hips thrusting upwards, seeking more contact.

You set the pace, rising and falling on his shaft, your pussy muscles squeezing and massaging his cock. Your breasts bounced with each movement and Mingi couldn’t keep his eyes off them. You leaned forward letting your nipples brush against his chest, teasing him more.

"You like it when I ride you, don't you?" You taunted, your voice was breathless. "Do you like being my personal fuck toy?"

Mingi could only nod, too focused on to not come. You increased your pace, your pussy gripping him tightly, riding him like you’ve never done before. Your hands grasped his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you neared your peak.

"Cum for me, big boy" you urged, "Fill me up with your kids”

Your dirty words were all it took to send Mingi over the edge. He arched his back, his cock twitching as he released a torrent of hot cum deep inside you. You cried out, your own orgasm crashing over you as you felt his warmth filling you up. You continued to jump up and down his cock to ride out your orgasm, his body tensed more and more with each move you did and he was almost about to burst for the second time.

You slowly got off him and he watched how his softened cock slid out of you, all covered in your mixed juices. “Fuuck”

Hovering over him you placed small kissed on his neck down to his chest, all the way back down to his pubic bone. Mingi let out a deep moan when you grabbed his cock and began to pump him, the blood rushed down his dick and in just a few seconds he was fully hard again. “You want me to fuck you again?” You looked at him through your lashes. “Just fuck my cock so I finally can get my hands on you” he begged.

You did as he wished, you placed yourself on his cock and gave it everything you had left to give. Rocking your hips back and forth, round and round and clenching around him hard. You made him cum for the second time tonight, you got off him to undo the cuffs.

Mingis wrists were red and sore, his breathing heavy. He caressed your body as you lied on top of him giving you kisses on your forehead, he told you what a great job you did but he had to get his ways with you before calling it a night.

He rolled you over swapping places with him so you were at the bottom, he quickly grabbed the handcuffs and tied your wrists to the bedpost. You were shocked but not surprised by his actions. “You couldn’t let me have this one night could you?” You snapped. Mingi traced his hand grabbing the hem of your panties, pulling them off you, he guided his cock to your entrance and swirled the tip around coating it with your arousal. “Of course I did, you got to dominate me but now it’s my turn to dominate you as always doll” he purred before shoving his cock all the way in your warm wet pussy. You swallowed a gasp when he hit your sweet spot, his cock rubbing all the right places inside you. “You love it when I fuck your tiny pussy with my big cock, don’t ya”

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, pulling your legs up trapping you in a mating press. It was all back to the ordinary, having Mingi’s fat cock plunging your tight cunt, breeding you full.

“Who’s in charge?” Mingi growled, your words were stuck in your throat and nothing came out. “I said who’s in charge!” He went rougher on you when you didn’t answer. His hard thrusts against your hips made you stutter your words. “Yo-you’re in-in charge mmm ah, you always fucks me the best”

The sheets were stained and sticky under you, so was your insides as Mingi creamed inside you yet again with a big load of cum.

“mmhh that’s my girl”

[yuyusbabygirl]

best friend!yunho

thinking about best friend!yunho stumbling upon a post on how to make girls squirt and now he wants to try that. so he comes over and starts pestering you about it "please let me try, you're like my only female friend".

you avoid eye contact with him "so just find someone to hook up with".

"But I want to try it on you. I trust you. Please." he pouts at you

You can never say no to him and you would be lying to yourself if you said you never imagined his hands on your body.

somehow you find yourself on your back, yunho above you, his long fingers in your pussy. his eyes never leave your face, wondering how he ever went without seeing your face scrunched up in pleasure because of him, you moaning his name.

"just let go, doll. cum for me. you look so pretty like this" he keeps whispering praise in your ear, his voice low.

your hands try to grab at the sheets before he takes your wrists in his other hand to keep you still.

his fingers continue their assault on you, curling upwards. he restrains one of your legs by throwing his own over it.

"fuck, yunho. please" you don't even know what you're begging for anymore.

"cum" he growls out, the command sending you over the edge and you can't hold it in anymore.

he feels your wetness spill out and he takes his eyes off your face to watch as you squirt.

you're breathing heavily, your whole body tingling.

"fuck. I need you to do that again" he mumbles. "but now I need to taste you" his eyes look into yours

[pixlpxie]

Imagine a dark fantasy yunhwa smut where Yunho is a puppet master with dark powers, Seonghwa is his puppet and you're their prey. He uses his puppet to hunt you down and use you for his pleasure. He controls him to ruin you as he watches you squirm before them. He commands Seonghwa with simple moves to make him play with you. Yunho's composed looks contrasting Seonghwa's deranged one made you weak. And you just let them use you the way they want...

[skzfairyyydreamz]

lil request and it's only anon cause i discovered i CAN'T change the blog when sending asks and i'd cringe if i sen wit my main lmaao.

well, all that i see is pure coquette white cute baby girl header but what about like a nasty perv alt reader x skz? drabble, hc, oneshot.. i don't care i'm starving <ot8 pls> - skzbahng

Big Talk 💬

minors DNI! minors DNI! minors DNI! minors DNI! minors DNI!

Genre: Smau, text post, Bf!Seungmin, NFSW (18+), pervy bratty needy fem!reader, humor/crack

Warnings: NSFW minors DO NOT interact, cussing , filthy disgusting text dialogue and an ungodly amount of teasing!

A/n: hii hii anon!! i honestly don’t know why i took so long to post this bc i finished this so long ago 😭 please please forgive me! i haven’t written a spicy smau in forever bc last time i did i had to start a whole new blog 😴😭 but i hope you enjoy! and that this feeds you well 😭 (also i choose to do a smau instead of a drabble or hc cuz i think smau’s are just kinda my specialty since i write them more than anything else) this dialogue was inspired by seungmin and jeongin’s car live they did back in march. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼 Taglists and requests are open!

© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.

Chan | Lee Know | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | I.N

taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @turtledove824 @laylasbunbunny @armystay89 @eclipsemina

buy me a coffee?