ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ♡⸝⸝ chan is just so proud to call you his wife.
husband!bang chan x fem!reader
wc: 0.8k
warnings: (obviously) mentions of marriage, kissing, and weddings. also a brief reference to idol relationship stress and one singular suggestive line. pretty much just a fluffy drabble bc i was thinking abt breaking dawn wedding scene (turning page WILL be played at my own wedding) and my desire to be a wife LMAO.
after your wedding day, “my wife” becomes chan’s favorite words.
even before your actual marriage, there’d be times he’d call you his wife. offhanded, casual, for convenience, whatever. but it means so much more now that your vows have cemented the one thing he always knew: you are it for him.
he is utterly obsessed with referring to you as his wife and finds any way to mention you. the words roll off his tongue so easily and with so much pride. because how could he not be proud to call you his life partner? how could he not show you off to everyone?
of course, he loved calling you his girlfriend, then his fiancé—he’s always loved calling you his anything. but “wife”? that’s his favorite.
it’s not in a possessive way. it’s never to erase your own identity. it’s just in a “oh my god, i can’t believe i’m married to the love of my life” way.
it really hit him on your wedding night, after all the festivities were over and it was just the two of you. no drinks clinking, no claps and cheers, no camera flashes. he looked at you in all your post-wedding glow, and realization struck all at once.
“you’re my wife,” he mumbled, awestruck. almost in disbelief. he’d cried during his vows, kissed you hard, signed the marriage certificate. but it only became real in bed that night.
“i’m your wife,” you repeated, smile wide and bright. a reflection of the pure happiness you felt to wear that title. “and you’re my husband.
husband. he decided then that he doesn’t even care about his own name anymore. your husband is so much better.
“damn right i am,” he beamed.
out of all his accomplishments, that one has to be his favorite. and he certainly made sure to prove that to you that night. no inch of your body was left untouched or unkissed; he was the perfect blend of gentle and rough, of love and desire.
he falls asleep the happiest and most in love he’s ever been, still wondering if it might all just be a perfect dream. the next morning, when he wakes up to a flood of congratulations messages and pictures friends and family took at the wedding, he’s so relieved.
you’re a dream, but he’s not dreaming.
one of the first times he gets to say his new favorite phrase publicly comes during an interview a few weeks later.
the interviewer directs her question to him specifically. “who was your last text from?”
almost immediately, the rest of the boys break into knowing smiles and quiet chuckles. they already know the answer.
“my wife, actually,” chan says with no hesitation. and god how good it feels to say those words on camera, in front of the millions of eyes that will inevitably watch the video.
he’s all dimpled smiles and blushed cheeks when everyone in the room lets out a collective “aww.”
“ah, right, a newlywed! congratulations!”
needless to say, he’s giddy as hell for the rest of the interview. he didn’t even get a chance to show his phone background—which is, of course, a photo from your wedding day.
after that, he finds a way to make conversations about you. “my wife loves that movie!” “my wife picked it out,” “it’s my wife’s favorite song.” he really can’t help himself, it’s like some husband instinct he has. you’ve always occupied the most space in his mind.
and if people get annoyed by it, he quite frankly doesn’t care one bit. there was once a time when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to speak about his relationship so openly. he spoke of marriage as a dream, something he longed for but wasn’t sure it was attainable. not for someone like him, in his career.
so yes, he’s basking in his marriage glee loudly. every second of it is incredible, so much more than he could have expected.
when your wedding video and professional pictures come back? oh, it’s wraps.
he keeps a picture in his wallet and a framed one on his bedside dresser. the rest of them sit in an album on his phone that he finds himself in often.
on tour, when the timezones are too different and the distance too great, he scrolls through them. it’s a reminder of what he has to come home to. he counts down the days until he can hold you in his arms again.
and the video becomes his greatest comfort. you watch it together first. as expected, you cry, wipe your tears, then cry some more. such special memories captured so beautifully, the happiest day of your lives.
then, you hear the sniffles beside you and look over to find him tearing up as well. if he could relive that day a thousand times, he would, but this is as close as it gets.
“you just look so beautiful,” he whispers, the droplets glistening in his eyes. “i’m so lucky.”
your heart swells and the tears roll harder. “i’m the lucky one.”
truthfully, you’re both lucky. not everyone gets to experience a love like this in their lifetime. it radiates even through pictures and videos. you can feel it.
“no, you don’t understand. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says louder, firmer.
yk i saw a tiktok where girls make their bfs do pushups while the girls lay below them just to hear them groan and moan… god a chan smut fic with this plot would be soooo good pls write one if you can!!😝
moan for me
chan x fem!reader
mdni!!!
wc:1.9k
filthy smut with very little plot, established relationship, choking, finger sucking, dry humping, begging, dacryphilia, softdom!chan, unprotected sex, fingering, floor fuck, doggy, consenual filming, humor near the end. lmk if i missed anything!!
you were chilling on the kitchen counter scrolling through your phone while chan stood shirtless, chopping up some veggies while chicken sizzled on the stove. he'd finally gotten a break from work, giving you both a chance to chill at home, planning to spend the rest of your night chilling in the pool while snacking on whatever chan was gonna make—talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
"everything's almost ready baby, you should go get ready— ill finish this up and follow you yea?" he said but you had only heard half of it, an idea popping up in your mind like a light bulb.
"wait, can we do something first?" you said. eyeing your phone then eyeing him again with a mischievous look in your eyes.
"you are not making a minion's makeup look on me again you promised last time was the last time" he sighed out, knowing what you were about to say was just as ridiculous if not more.
"no its not that a promise!!" you laughed, naturally causing him to smile back at you
"oh yea? then what is it, hit me" he said crossing his arms, bracing himself for whatever little tiktok challenge you were gonna let him do.
"i want us to do push ups until failure" you said excited "push ups till failure? as in who will do more push ups? i think we both know who will win that challenge baby" he said, a cocky tone lacing his words
"no...i mean you will do push ups..."you trailed off. "illjustlieunderyoutillyoufail" you said in one go, nervous of what his reaction could be.
"you'll what? lie under me?" he laughed, the idea of you lying under him while his figure consumed you, going up and down on you making is cock twitch in his pants.
"pleaseeee" you pleaded "it'll be fun!!" you tried with words, saying anything just to convince him.
"it wont be the first or last thing u do just for a video" a laughed shaking his head, "make it quick then, baby" he said as you let out a a celebratory "yes!!" as you ran to lay the yoga mat on your bedroom floor, chan trailing right after you
you see, chan rarely ever let out moans or whines during bed, just the occasional groans when he was reaching his climax and whatever praises he would whisper in your ear. however, the times you heard him being all breathless was when he was in the gym, weightlifting, pull up, or whatever workout he was doing. his trainer would push him slightly past his limits. making him achey with pain and breathless and leaving you hot and bothered. and he noticed, he always did, which did nothing but boost his ego.
so here you were, phone propped on the wall with you lying on the yoga mat, your phone the perfect angle to catch everything. then he got into frame, muttering a "you're ridiculous sometimes you know that?" lauging as he positioned himself above you
then suddenly the air shifted. you definitely underestimated how small you'd feel and how big he would be above you, shirtless with his chest right infront of your face and his face a little bit above yours. you felt heat pooling to your stomach. and you definitely saw the lustful glint in his eyes, his easy demeanour from before into something filthy.
"so how many you want me to do, princess?" oh you knew you were gone. "a-as many as you can" your voice stuttering already, feeling your cheeks down to you neck starting to heat up.
"one...two...three" he started, going quickly from the get go. you got whifs on his musky cologne as he went up and down on you, the musky scent with the underlying sweetness that you'd grown so used to. you'd grown audibly breathless by the 10th push up.
he wasnt doing okay either, blood rushing to his cock as he felt himself get hot. the proximity between both of you was nothing he wasnt used to. but the suggestiveness of it all had him faltering. getting all breathy just as you liked. veins starting to get visible on his neck, a pink flush washing over his neck and chest
"e-eighteen" he stuttered. looking down at you for the first time to already see you looking up at him. your face just as flushed as his, your mouth parted as you let our ragged breaths.
by the twentieth push up, you felt his hard on graze your tummy every time he went down, you felt him linger just a millisecond longer to grind his cock against you.
"twenty-hah-twentyfour" that had done something to you, the sound of the slight whimper he let out spurring you on to grab his cock through his pants, his balance faltering as one of his knees hit the ground, looking down at you with a hungry look, pupils dilated.
"you knew what you were doing, huh baby?" he said breathless, using his position to start grinding into your palm. moving down to kiss and suck onto your neck, marking you up. making you let out noises freely now. feeling his hand coming down to get a hold of yours and pinning to your side as he leaned up to take off your shorts, nudging your legs open with his knee and slotting his bulge in between your legs.
"ohh—baby" he let out an actual moan at the feeling of your slick through the fabric of your panties. he tucked his face into your neck, suckling and biting onto your neck as you felt the tip of his cock poking your clit repeatedly. his pace sloppy and hungry.
"oh—fuckkk chan please!" you moaned broken, not sure what you were begging for.
"please what baby, i need you to use your words" he said.
"nghhh touch me p-please" you mewled as he stoped his grinding as he pushed your panties to the side, inserting his middle and ring finger without warning. his other hand lifting your shirt to grope and suck at your tits.
"oh fuck!" his fingers inside you were moving at a maddening pace. scissoring and curling at all the right spots. his thumb drawing messy circles on your clit. grabbing your propped up phone, flipping it to the back camra and zooming in onto him angrily fingring your drooling cunt.
"yeaahh there you go baby, all squirmy and wet for me yea? all just from seeing me get worked up for your little video?" he said loud enough for the mic to catch. putting the phone back and using his now free hand to pinch and twist your nipple, all still getting caught by the camera.
"yesyesyes—you looked so good above me, all muscles and sweat, gasping and moaning— oh fuck right there!" he went faster at your words. his hand leaving your tit and inserting his thumb into your open mouth. letting you suck on it before trailing it down and choking you with it. not too strongly but enough to send you moaning and gasping, getting even wetter under him.
you started showing the tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm. clenching around his fingers and letting out a string of incoherent verions of his name.
"p-please give me your cock, need to cum on your cock!" and just like that, he ripped his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss of your orgasm, the twist in your stomach going down again.
"what a desperate slut, just for me yeah?" he leaned down to kiss you filthy. pulling away from you and holding your chin open letting out a filthy blob of spit fall from his mouth to yours before flipping you over "on your knees baby" he said, pulling you up as he lined himself up with your entrance easing, in with groan
he wasted no time, ramming inside you, Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. and for the first time he's letting out noises. the entire build up making his usual control falter, letting out whines moans of your name as you swallowed him whole.
Jus’ like that. Fucking ruin me—ohfuck!.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.
"harder? oh—ill go harder for you baby—fuck" he grabbed you by your hair, twisting it in his hand as he held you up, loud 'plap-plap-plap's echoing across the room with your loud mewls of his name and his groans.
"my little slut" he groaned, letting go of your hair as he landed a few slaps on your plump ass before "my—filthy—little—slut" punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips as you fell head first on the yoga mat, muffling your noises, which where—getting too loud— into the crook of your elbow, a tear falling from your eyes at the intensity of it all.
"aw~" he said with faux sympathy "dont cry baby, you knew what you were getting yourself into after all" he grabbed your hair again, lifting your head up. "dont hide your noises from me baby wanna hear every-thrust-little-thrust-noise.
you have lost all control. your brain foggy, losing all coherent thoughts. the only thing you can thing about is his name, how fast hes plowing into you, and your impending orgasm "fuucckk—right there chan" your eyes roll to the back of your skull
"look at you baby" he eyed your phone, showing a reflection of the position you were in. on your knees, ass up, shoulders on the floor as your fingers gripped onto the yoga mat, serving as the only thing grounding you as chan took you to heaven and back.
"yeaaah—hah—you're taking me so well baby. you gonna cum?"he said breathless. "yesyesyes m'gonna cum" you moaned, delirious
"go ahead then baby—fuck come for me" he speeds up, gripping onto your hips. your mouth fell into an O shape as you let out a silent scream as your orgasm washed over you
chan wasnt too far behind "fuck m'gonna" he couldnt even complete the sentence before letting out a filthy moan- throwing his head back, thrusting once, twice, before he spilled inside you. hips stilling against your ass as he painted your walls white.
he eased out of you, as a mix of both your cum came out of you, ruining the mat.
"you doin okay?" he asked, voice soft. kissing gently down your back "yea, m'fine." you smiled, looking to the side, grabbing your phone. holding it infront of you, your eyes hazy and your face fucked up. you held up a little peace sign, showing chan kissing down your back before stopping the video.
he went and got a towel, cleaning you up, saying "you better send me that video" you let out a tired giggle "only if you keep moaning for me like that" you smirked back at him
bonus: since you obviously couldnt post the video. even if you cut and edited it to death. so chan offered an alternative idea for a video when you finally went back on track for your plans to chill on his day off. and it works just as well.
a/n: my first request!!! i had sm fun writing this. ngl my brain lagged at first but i went with the flow. and yes i wrote the first part of the fic based on that vid i linked in the end
i hope it met your expectations my first annonie. and i hope you enjoyed if you made it to the end you freaks :) likes and reblogs are superrrr appreciated!!! dont hesitate to send me more requests <33
or: chan thinks he can waltz in your apartment post workout looking like that and expect you to do nothing about it? funny
a/n: in honor of the onlychans vid :P
“Hah—fuck Baby, slow…down!” chan groaned through gritted teeth as you slammed down on his cock for what felt like hours. Your hips slamming, cunt swallowing him whole and taking him for everything he’s worth.
chan doesn’t know what’s gotten into you, he'd walked into your apartment post workout. muscles so sore and defined under his tank top, you just couldnt help but pounce! on him the moment you saw him.
His hands rested on your hips, eyes rolling back as he felt his third orgasm approaching. “Gonna cum again, Wan' inside of me again,” you pant, eyes glazed over with lust as you stare down at him. His jaw was slack, moans and whimpers escaping his throat while his hips twitched beneath you, body spent and slicked with sweat. You lean down, messily kissing his swollen lips, feeling his cock shoot a third load into your womb. and the melodic 'plap plap plap!'s never slow down, your hips already working to get another out of him.
“baby, m'too sensitive—” Your pussy grips around him like a vice, previous orgasms making a sticky mess that elicits a loud 'squelch!' with every slam of your hips.
"you can take it baby" oh you were so evil. leaning to plant a loving kiss on the corner of his mouth, smiling sweetly, hand snaking up to hold onto his throat, resting there as you drove him to his fourth orgasm
“f-fuckkk me,” he huffs out, feeling you vigorously clamp down on him again and again. it had him dizzy, mind spasming.
“Got me all worked up, baby—” your voice breaks into a whine once you feel his bulbous tip hit your sweet spot.
your hands roam around his torso, tracing his abs before setteling onto his pecs, giving his perky nipples a playful pinch to watch him whine. “gonna make me cum too quick, s-shit.”
he was so close to the edge. feeling you play with his nipples, chan bites his tongue. “i-im sensitive there, you’re so f-fuckkk..”
you smile, nipping near his neck before he groans—eyes rolling back, he gnaws on lip as he feels his fourth orgasm unsteadily approaching.
“Shit—” His eyes screw shut, chest heaving as he gripped your hips like a lifeline, definitely leaving marks,“Gonna…fucking c-cum—nngh fuck!” He’s cumming for a fourth time now, brain turned to mush. you weren't far behind, coming with a loud moan, cunt spasming around him, hips slowing before you collapsed on top of him.
a/n: erm..kinda rushed cuz it's exam season 💔
taglist (comment to be added!): @yourqueenlady @kloversung @hycnsung @seagulljk @g0matchi @eyyyylucieeee @zosauce @minniebitesfr
𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when chan needs to be coaxed back into bed
featuring: Christopher Bahng x AFAB reader
The first thing you notice when you stir from sleep is the absence of warmth beside you. The sheets are cool where Chris should be, and the slow, rhythmic sound of typing hums in the quiet.
Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you find him at your desk, bathed in the glow of his laptop screen, bare shoulders tense with focus. His curls are sleep-mussed, and the slope of his back, marked by the faintest shadows of moonlight, moves with each breath.
You don’t say his name—not yet. Instead, you rise, the bed protesting softly as you pad toward him, bare feet whispering against the floor. He doesn’t look up when you reach him, fingers still dancing over the keyboard, lost in his own world.
You slip your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. His skin is warm, firm beneath your touch. “Baby,” you murmur, voice laced with drowsy affection.
He exhales, long and quiet. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” Your fingers trace absentminded shapes against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you. “But I don’t like waking up without you.”
Chris hums, capturing your wandering hand and bringing your fingers to his lips. “Just had an idea,” he murmurs. “Didn’t wanna lose it.”
Your lips press to his shoulder, soft and lingering. “You’ll lose more if you don’t rest.”
That makes him pause. His fingers still over the keyboard, tension melting just slightly under your touch. You know he’s always like this—restless, mind spinning even when his body begs for reprieve. You don’t fault him for it. But you won’t let him work himself into exhaustion, not tonight.
Chris sighs, squeezing your fingers gently before placing them back over his heart. “Just a little longer, baby,” he murmurs, tilting his head so his cheek grazes yours. “I promise.”
You pout against his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him. “You always say that.”
A quiet chuckle rumbles through his chest. “This time, I mean it.” He turns slightly in his chair, just enough for his hands to find your waist, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he urges, voice softer now, deeper. “Sit with me.”
You hesitate for half a second before relenting, letting him guide you onto his lap. His hands are warm as they settle on your thighs, palms sliding up beneath the oversized sleep shirt you’re wearing—his shirt.
Chris exhales as you straddle him, his head falling briefly against your shoulder like he’s already slipping back into the comfort of you. “That’s better,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the base of your throat.
You hum, running your fingers through the messy curls at the nape of his neck, feeling the way his body softens beneath your touch. He’s still warm from sleep, still heavy with exhaustion despite his insistence on working.
For a moment, you simply sit together like this—his head tucked against you, your fingers threading through his hair, slow and steady. The glow of his laptop screen casts faint shadows over his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the flutter of his lashes when he finally closes his eyes.
“You should come back to bed,” you whisper, lips brushing against his temple.
Chris exhales, long and deep, like he’s already surrendering. “Mmm,” he hums, fingertips tracing lazy circles against your thighs. “I know.”
You smile, pressing another soft kiss against his skin. “Then come.”
He tilts his head back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. They’re heavy-lidded, dark with something softer than sleep, something you know all too well. He studies you for a moment before his hands slide higher beneath your shirt, thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of your ribs.
“Stay here a little longer,” he murmurs. It’s not quite a refusal, but it’s not surrender either.
Your fingers tighten in his hair for just a moment before you shift in his lap, pressing closer, letting your lips find his in a slow, coaxing kiss. Chris exhales against your mouth, hands tightening on your hips as he pulls you flush against him.
“I want you in bed,” you breathe, lips ghosting over his.
His grip tightens just slightly. “And if I want you here?”
You shake your head, teasing, but your body is already melting into his, already responding to the quiet hunger in his voice. “Bed,” you insist, nipping at his lower lip before pulling away.
Chris groans, hands flexing against your thighs like he’s considering arguing, but then he exhales, resigned. “You’re trouble,” he murmurs, but there’s no real bite to it—just the rasp of his voice, thick with exhaustion and something else, something slower, deeper.
You smile against his skin, brushing your nose along the line of his jaw before standing, slipping from his lap before he can change his mind. His hands follow you instinctively, fingers ghosting over your hips before you’re out of reach. He watches you with hooded eyes, dark and heavy, as you take a step back toward the bed.
“Come on,” you urge softly, extending a hand. “Before you start thinking too much again.”
Chris huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over his face before finally—finally—shutting his laptop. The soft click of it closing is like a victory, like proof that you’ve won this battle, at least for tonight.
He doesn’t bother grabbing a shirt as he stands, just crosses the room with the quiet, effortless grace that always makes your stomach flip. His hands find your waist the moment he reaches you, slipping beneath the hem of your—his—shirt, palms warm against your bare skin.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep now that he’s letting himself feel it.
You smile, threading your fingers through his curls once more. “I know.”
Chris exhales, warm against your temple, but he doesn’t pull away. His body is heavy with exhaustion, his grip loose yet insistent as he lets you guide him back toward the bed. When you tug his hand, lacing your fingers together, he follows without question, his steps slow, lethargic.
The sheets are cool as you ease him down, kneeling over him, brushing stray curls from his forehead. His eyes are hooded, dark with something softer than sleep, something that lingers between exhaustion and need. His hands find your waist beneath the oversized shirt, thumbs sweeping lazily over your skin.
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, but even as he says it, his grip tightens slightly, like he doesn’t want you to stop.
You just smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “I want to,” you whisper, letting your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.
Chris sighs into you as you kiss him, lips soft, pliant beneath yours. He’s warm, melting into your hands as you shift to straddle him properly, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his shoulders, the curve of his ribs. He’s always so tense, always carrying so much weight—but here, now, you feel him unravel, his body yielding as you press slow, open-mouthed kisses along his throat.
“Let me take care of you,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his pulse point.
Chris shudders, hands sliding down to your thighs, gripping just firm enough to feel real. “Baby—”
You hush him with a kiss, one that lingers, coaxing him deeper, drawing a quiet, needy sound from the back of his throat. He’s already so pliant beneath you, already so willing to let you lead.
Your hands wander lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of his sweats, and he exhales shakily, hips shifting beneath you. His body is warm, his muscles relaxing as you touch him with slow, deliberate care, kissing him like you have all the time in the world.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the way his breath catches, the way his hands tighten on your hips.
Chris exhales, the sound shaky, almost fragile, like he's not used to being handled this gently. His fingers flex against your hips, gripping like he needs to ground himself, like he needs to feel you solid and real beneath his hands.
"I love you," he breathes back, the words slipping out between kisses, so quiet you barely catch them.
You smile against his lips, nuzzling your nose against his before shifting lower, dragging your hands down his chest, feeling the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. His body is warm, muscles pliant as you press soft kisses down his sternum, down the defined lines of his abdomen, the faintest trace of tension still lingering beneath his skin.
Chris watches you, hooded eyes dark and laced with something deeper than lust, something almost reverent. His breath stutters when you reach the waistband of his sweats, fingers toying with the fabric before you tug them down, slow and deliberate.
"Relax, baby," you murmur, tracing light, teasing touches up the inside of his thighs. "Just let me take care of you."
Chris groans, head tipping back against the pillows, his grip tightening on your waist before sliding up, fingers threading through your hair as you move lower. His body is already responding, already yielding, hips shifting as you press your lips to the sensitive skin just above his waistband.
You take your time, savoring the way his breath hitches, the way his muscles tense beneath your lips before slowly melting under your touch. Chris is always the one giving, always the one carrying, but tonight, you want him to let go. You want him to feel—really feel—the way you cherish him, the way you love him.
His fingers thread deeper into your hair as you mouth along the sharp lines of his hips, lazy, open-mouthed kisses leaving warmth in their wake. His thighs twitch beneath your palms when you trace them, your touch featherlight, teasing. Chris swallows hard, sucking in a sharp breath when your lips finally dip lower, your name slipping from his lips in a breathy whisper.
“You’re—” His voice breaks when you press a slow kiss over him, through the thin fabric still clinging to his hips. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”
You smile against him, nuzzling gently before hooking your fingers into his boxers and sliding them down, freeing him from the last barrier between you. His cock is already hard, twitching under your touch, and the sight alone makes heat coil in your stomach. Chris is beautiful like this—spread out beneath you, breathing uneven, eyes blown wide and dark with need.
His fingers flex in your hair, his head tilting back against the pillows when you wrap your hand around him, stroking him slow, careful. He’s warm beneath your touch, velvet-soft against your palm, and the groan that rumbles through his chest at the first teasing flick of your wrist sends a fresh wave of desire pooling between your thighs.
“Baby,” he rasps, his grip tightening, like he’s not sure if he wants to pull you closer or stop you before he falls apart too quickly.
You hush him with another kiss to the inside of his thigh, dragging your tongue over the sensitive skin there before looking up at him through your lashes.
Chris exhales, body trembling slightly beneath you. And when you take him into your mouth, when you suck him down slow and deep, his resolve shatters completely. His moan is low, wrecked, his hands tightening in your hair as his hips stutter up, unable to help himself.
He is unraveling beneath you, his body pliant, his moans slipping free without restraint. His fingers twitch in your hair, like he's trying to hold back, trying not to push, but you don’t want his hesitation—you want him to feel everything. So you hum around him, hollowing your cheeks as you take him deeper, your hands smoothing up his trembling thighs in silent encouragement.
His groan is deep, breathy, his head pressing back into the pillows as his thighs tense beneath your palms. "Fuck, baby," he chokes out, voice cracking with pleasure, "feels so good."
You hum again, letting your tongue trace the thick vein running along his length, your lips slow, worshipping. Chris never lets himself be taken care of like this—never lets himself be undone without feeling like he needs to return the favor. But tonight, you refuse to let him do anything except fall apart.
His chest heaves with every shaky breath, his muscles tensing before relaxing under your touch. He’s so easy to read, his body telling you everything his words don’t—how much he needs this, how much he’s holding back even now.
So you pull off with a soft, wet pop, stroking him with slow, deliberate care as you press open-mouthed kisses along his abdomen, his hips. "Don't hold back," you whisper against his skin, your voice low, soothing. "I want to feel all of you."
Chris groans, his grip in your hair tightening for just a second before his hands slide down to cup your face, guiding you back up to him. His lips crash into yours, desperate, needy, like he can’t bear to be apart for even a second. The kiss is messy, slow and wet, his tongue sliding against yours as he drinks in the warmth of your mouth.
"Need to feel you," he breathes between kisses, voice wrecked, raw. "Please, baby—wanna be inside you."
You shudder at the sheer want in his voice, at the way his hands are already sliding down your body, desperate and aching, like he can’t stand the thought of not having you wrapped around him. You rise up onto your knees, going to tug the oversized shirt—his shirt—over your head but he stops you, holding your wrist.
“Keep it on,” he breathes.
You tilt your head, searching his eyes, and the heat in them sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers flex around your wrist before sliding beneath the fabric, palms warm and reverent as they trace the curves of your body.
"Want you just like this," Chris murmurs, voice thick with something that makes your stomach flutter. "Soft. Cozy. Mine."
You lift yourself just enough to position him at your entrance, his breath stutters. His hands tremble against your skin, his grip firm but not demanding, letting you set the pace, letting you take.
And when you finally sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch, Chris lets out a low, wrecked groan, his head tipping back against the pillows. His fingers flex against your thighs, his chest rising sharply as he struggles to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure.
His cock pulsates against your gummy walls when you roll your hips down against his. He whines, his head tilted back, an arm thrown over his face.
“My baby,” you murmur, rolling your hips again, watching the way his lips part, the way his fingers tighten around the soft flesh of your thighs. He whimpers—an honest-to-god whimper—as you squeeze around him, your walls clenching down, pulling him deeper.
“F-fuck,” he chokes out, arm slipping away from his face as he blinks up at you, eyes glassy, half-lidded. “I swear I’ll give you everything–everything, baby–.”
You rock your hips again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way he trembles beneath you. His fingers dig into your thighs like he’s holding on for dear life, trying so hard not to lose himself too fast.
Chris moans into the kiss, his body arching up into yours, his grip tightening. His desperation is intoxicating—the way his hands roam, the way he gasps when you grind down just right, the way his whimpers dissolve into breathless curses.
"You feel so good," he slurs, voice wrecked, heavy with pleasure. "So perfect—fuck, baby—"
His hips jerk up involuntarily, thrusting deeper, and the sharp bolt of pleasure rips a moan from your throat. You can feel him everywhere, buried so deep, so thick and hot inside you, stretching you open in the best way.
Chris is gone—completely lost to it now. His breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, his hands gripping and sliding over your body like he doesn’t know where to hold onto you, like he wants all of you at once.
"Close—" His voice cracks, desperate and needy. "Baby, I—"
You hush him with a kiss, tangling your fingers in his curls, guiding him through it, coaxing him to let go. "Come for me," you whisper against his lips, rolling your hips down, squeezing tight around him.
That’s all it takes. Chris gasps, the sound high and breathless, his whole body tensing beneath you as he tumbles over the edge. His hands clutch at your hips, pulling you down flush against him as he spills deep inside you, his moans dissolving into whimpers as he shudders through his release.
You keep moving, slow and soothing, riding out his pleasure until he’s nothing but a boneless, panting mess beneath you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down against his chest, his lips pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your temple, your cheek, anywhere he can reach.
"You wreck me," he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion, his breath still shaky. "Every time."
You smile against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "Good."
Chris groans softly, rolling you both over so you're tucked against his chest, his arms still locked tight around you. He’s warm and pliant, already halfway to sleep as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in.
"Bed was the right call," he murmurs, voice fading.
You can’t help but laugh, breathless and sated, still tangled up in him. "Told you," you tease, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his damp skin.
He tightens his arms around you, his body heavy and warm as he finally surrenders to sleep. You listen to his breathing even out, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm, and with a smile still lingering on your lips, you let yourself drift off with him.
𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when chan needs to be coaxed back into bed
featuring: Christopher Bahng x AFAB reader
The first thing you notice when you stir from sleep is the absence of warmth beside you. The sheets are cool where Chris should be, and the slow, rhythmic sound of typing hums in the quiet.
Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you find him at your desk, bathed in the glow of his laptop screen, bare shoulders tense with focus. His curls are sleep-mussed, and the slope of his back, marked by the faintest shadows of moonlight, moves with each breath.
You don’t say his name—not yet. Instead, you rise, the bed protesting softly as you pad toward him, bare feet whispering against the floor. He doesn’t look up when you reach him, fingers still dancing over the keyboard, lost in his own world.
You slip your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. His skin is warm, firm beneath your touch. “Baby,” you murmur, voice laced with drowsy affection.
He exhales, long and quiet. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” Your fingers trace absentminded shapes against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breath grounding you. “But I don’t like waking up without you.”
Chris hums, capturing your wandering hand and bringing your fingers to his lips. “Just had an idea,” he murmurs. “Didn’t wanna lose it.”
Your lips press to his shoulder, soft and lingering. “You’ll lose more if you don’t rest.”
That makes him pause. His fingers still over the keyboard, tension melting just slightly under your touch. You know he’s always like this—restless, mind spinning even when his body begs for reprieve. You don’t fault him for it. But you won’t let him work himself into exhaustion, not tonight.
Chris sighs, squeezing your fingers gently before placing them back over his heart. “Just a little longer, baby,” he murmurs, tilting his head so his cheek grazes yours. “I promise.”
You pout against his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him. “You always say that.”
A quiet chuckle rumbles through his chest. “This time, I mean it.” He turns slightly in his chair, just enough for his hands to find your waist, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he urges, voice softer now, deeper. “Sit with me.”
You hesitate for half a second before relenting, letting him guide you onto his lap. His hands are warm as they settle on your thighs, palms sliding up beneath the oversized sleep shirt you’re wearing—his shirt.
Chris exhales as you straddle him, his head falling briefly against your shoulder like he’s already slipping back into the comfort of you. “That’s better,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the base of your throat.
You hum, running your fingers through the messy curls at the nape of his neck, feeling the way his body softens beneath your touch. He’s still warm from sleep, still heavy with exhaustion despite his insistence on working.
For a moment, you simply sit together like this—his head tucked against you, your fingers threading through his hair, slow and steady. The glow of his laptop screen casts faint shadows over his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the flutter of his lashes when he finally closes his eyes.
“You should come back to bed,” you whisper, lips brushing against his temple.
Chris exhales, long and deep, like he’s already surrendering. “Mmm,” he hums, fingertips tracing lazy circles against your thighs. “I know.”
You smile, pressing another soft kiss against his skin. “Then come.”
He tilts his head back, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. They’re heavy-lidded, dark with something softer than sleep, something you know all too well. He studies you for a moment before his hands slide higher beneath your shirt, thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of your ribs.
“Stay here a little longer,” he murmurs. It’s not quite a refusal, but it’s not surrender either.
Your fingers tighten in his hair for just a moment before you shift in his lap, pressing closer, letting your lips find his in a slow, coaxing kiss. Chris exhales against your mouth, hands tightening on your hips as he pulls you flush against him.
“I want you in bed,” you breathe, lips ghosting over his.
His grip tightens just slightly. “And if I want you here?”
You shake your head, teasing, but your body is already melting into his, already responding to the quiet hunger in his voice. “Bed,” you insist, nipping at his lower lip before pulling away.
Chris groans, hands flexing against your thighs like he’s considering arguing, but then he exhales, resigned. “You’re trouble,” he murmurs, but there’s no real bite to it—just the rasp of his voice, thick with exhaustion and something else, something slower, deeper.
You smile against his skin, brushing your nose along the line of his jaw before standing, slipping from his lap before he can change his mind. His hands follow you instinctively, fingers ghosting over your hips before you’re out of reach. He watches you with hooded eyes, dark and heavy, as you take a step back toward the bed.
“Come on,” you urge softly, extending a hand. “Before you start thinking too much again.”
Chris huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand over his face before finally—finally—shutting his laptop. The soft click of it closing is like a victory, like proof that you’ve won this battle, at least for tonight.
He doesn’t bother grabbing a shirt as he stands, just crosses the room with the quiet, effortless grace that always makes your stomach flip. His hands find your waist the moment he reaches you, slipping beneath the hem of your—his—shirt, palms warm against your bare skin.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep now that he’s letting himself feel it.
You smile, threading your fingers through his curls once more. “I know.”
Chris exhales, warm against your temple, but he doesn’t pull away. His body is heavy with exhaustion, his grip loose yet insistent as he lets you guide him back toward the bed. When you tug his hand, lacing your fingers together, he follows without question, his steps slow, lethargic.
The sheets are cool as you ease him down, kneeling over him, brushing stray curls from his forehead. His eyes are hooded, dark with something softer than sleep, something that lingers between exhaustion and need. His hands find your waist beneath the oversized shirt, thumbs sweeping lazily over your skin.
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, but even as he says it, his grip tightens slightly, like he doesn’t want you to stop.
You just smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “I want to,” you whisper, letting your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.
Chris sighs into you as you kiss him, lips soft, pliant beneath yours. He’s warm, melting into your hands as you shift to straddle him properly, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his shoulders, the curve of his ribs. He’s always so tense, always carrying so much weight—but here, now, you feel him unravel, his body yielding as you press slow, open-mouthed kisses along his throat.
“Let me take care of you,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his pulse point.
Chris shudders, hands sliding down to your thighs, gripping just firm enough to feel real. “Baby—”
You hush him with a kiss, one that lingers, coaxing him deeper, drawing a quiet, needy sound from the back of his throat. He’s already so pliant beneath you, already so willing to let you lead.
Your hands wander lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of his sweats, and he exhales shakily, hips shifting beneath you. His body is warm, his muscles relaxing as you touch him with slow, deliberate care, kissing him like you have all the time in the world.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the way his breath catches, the way his hands tighten on your hips.
Chris exhales, the sound shaky, almost fragile, like he's not used to being handled this gently. His fingers flex against your hips, gripping like he needs to ground himself, like he needs to feel you solid and real beneath his hands.
"I love you," he breathes back, the words slipping out between kisses, so quiet you barely catch them.
You smile against his lips, nuzzling your nose against his before shifting lower, dragging your hands down his chest, feeling the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. His body is warm, muscles pliant as you press soft kisses down his sternum, down the defined lines of his abdomen, the faintest trace of tension still lingering beneath his skin.
Chris watches you, hooded eyes dark and laced with something deeper than lust, something almost reverent. His breath stutters when you reach the waistband of his sweats, fingers toying with the fabric before you tug them down, slow and deliberate.
"Relax, baby," you murmur, tracing light, teasing touches up the inside of his thighs. "Just let me take care of you."
Chris groans, head tipping back against the pillows, his grip tightening on your waist before sliding up, fingers threading through your hair as you move lower. His body is already responding, already yielding, hips shifting as you press your lips to the sensitive skin just above his waistband.
You take your time, savoring the way his breath hitches, the way his muscles tense beneath your lips before slowly melting under your touch. Chris is always the one giving, always the one carrying, but tonight, you want him to let go. You want him to feel—really feel—the way you cherish him, the way you love him.
His fingers thread deeper into your hair as you mouth along the sharp lines of his hips, lazy, open-mouthed kisses leaving warmth in their wake. His thighs twitch beneath your palms when you trace them, your touch featherlight, teasing. Chris swallows hard, sucking in a sharp breath when your lips finally dip lower, your name slipping from his lips in a breathy whisper.
“You’re—” His voice breaks when you press a slow kiss over him, through the thin fabric still clinging to his hips. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”
You smile against him, nuzzling gently before hooking your fingers into his boxers and sliding them down, freeing him from the last barrier between you. His cock is already hard, twitching under your touch, and the sight alone makes heat coil in your stomach. Chris is beautiful like this—spread out beneath you, breathing uneven, eyes blown wide and dark with need.
His fingers flex in your hair, his head tilting back against the pillows when you wrap your hand around him, stroking him slow, careful. He’s warm beneath your touch, velvet-soft against your palm, and the groan that rumbles through his chest at the first teasing flick of your wrist sends a fresh wave of desire pooling between your thighs.
“Baby,” he rasps, his grip tightening, like he’s not sure if he wants to pull you closer or stop you before he falls apart too quickly.
You hush him with another kiss to the inside of his thigh, dragging your tongue over the sensitive skin there before looking up at him through your lashes.
Chris exhales, body trembling slightly beneath you. And when you take him into your mouth, when you suck him down slow and deep, his resolve shatters completely. His moan is low, wrecked, his hands tightening in your hair as his hips stutter up, unable to help himself.
He is unraveling beneath you, his body pliant, his moans slipping free without restraint. His fingers twitch in your hair, like he's trying to hold back, trying not to push, but you don’t want his hesitation—you want him to feel everything. So you hum around him, hollowing your cheeks as you take him deeper, your hands smoothing up his trembling thighs in silent encouragement.
His groan is deep, breathy, his head pressing back into the pillows as his thighs tense beneath your palms. "Fuck, baby," he chokes out, voice cracking with pleasure, "feels so good."
You hum again, letting your tongue trace the thick vein running along his length, your lips slow, worshipping. Chris never lets himself be taken care of like this—never lets himself be undone without feeling like he needs to return the favor. But tonight, you refuse to let him do anything except fall apart.
His chest heaves with every shaky breath, his muscles tensing before relaxing under your touch. He’s so easy to read, his body telling you everything his words don’t—how much he needs this, how much he’s holding back even now.
So you pull off with a soft, wet pop, stroking him with slow, deliberate care as you press open-mouthed kisses along his abdomen, his hips. "Don't hold back," you whisper against his skin, your voice low, soothing. "I want to feel all of you."
Chris groans, his grip in your hair tightening for just a second before his hands slide down to cup your face, guiding you back up to him. His lips crash into yours, desperate, needy, like he can’t bear to be apart for even a second. The kiss is messy, slow and wet, his tongue sliding against yours as he drinks in the warmth of your mouth.
"Need to feel you," he breathes between kisses, voice wrecked, raw. "Please, baby—wanna be inside you."
You shudder at the sheer want in his voice, at the way his hands are already sliding down your body, desperate and aching, like he can’t stand the thought of not having you wrapped around him. You rise up onto your knees, going to tug the oversized shirt—his shirt—over your head but he stops you, holding your wrist.
“Keep it on,” he breathes.
You tilt your head, searching his eyes, and the heat in them sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers flex around your wrist before sliding beneath the fabric, palms warm and reverent as they trace the curves of your body.
"Want you just like this," Chris murmurs, voice thick with something that makes your stomach flutter. "Soft. Cozy. Mine."
You lift yourself just enough to position him at your entrance, his breath stutters. His hands tremble against your skin, his grip firm but not demanding, letting you set the pace, letting you take.
And when you finally sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch, Chris lets out a low, wrecked groan, his head tipping back against the pillows. His fingers flex against your thighs, his chest rising sharply as he struggles to breathe through the overwhelming pleasure.
His cock pulsates against your gummy walls when you roll your hips down against his. He whines, his head tilted back, an arm thrown over his face.
“My baby,” you murmur, rolling your hips again, watching the way his lips part, the way his fingers tighten around the soft flesh of your thighs. He whimpers—an honest-to-god whimper—as you squeeze around him, your walls clenching down, pulling him deeper.
“F-fuck,” he chokes out, arm slipping away from his face as he blinks up at you, eyes glassy, half-lidded. “I swear I’ll give you everything–everything, baby–.”
You rock your hips again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way he trembles beneath you. His fingers dig into your thighs like he’s holding on for dear life, trying so hard not to lose himself too fast.
Chris moans into the kiss, his body arching up into yours, his grip tightening. His desperation is intoxicating—the way his hands roam, the way he gasps when you grind down just right, the way his whimpers dissolve into breathless curses.
"You feel so good," he slurs, voice wrecked, heavy with pleasure. "So perfect—fuck, baby—"
His hips jerk up involuntarily, thrusting deeper, and the sharp bolt of pleasure rips a moan from your throat. You can feel him everywhere, buried so deep, so thick and hot inside you, stretching you open in the best way.
Chris is gone—completely lost to it now. His breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, his hands gripping and sliding over your body like he doesn’t know where to hold onto you, like he wants all of you at once.
"Close—" His voice cracks, desperate and needy. "Baby, I—"
You hush him with a kiss, tangling your fingers in his curls, guiding him through it, coaxing him to let go. "Come for me," you whisper against his lips, rolling your hips down, squeezing tight around him.
That’s all it takes. Chris gasps, the sound high and breathless, his whole body tensing beneath you as he tumbles over the edge. His hands clutch at your hips, pulling you down flush against him as he spills deep inside you, his moans dissolving into whimpers as he shudders through his release.
You keep moving, slow and soothing, riding out his pleasure until he’s nothing but a boneless, panting mess beneath you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down against his chest, his lips pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your temple, your cheek, anywhere he can reach.
"You wreck me," he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion, his breath still shaky. "Every time."
You smile against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. "Good."
Chris groans softly, rolling you both over so you're tucked against his chest, his arms still locked tight around you. He’s warm and pliant, already halfway to sleep as he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in.
"Bed was the right call," he murmurs, voice fading.
You can’t help but laugh, breathless and sated, still tangled up in him. "Told you," you tease, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his damp skin.
He tightens his arms around you, his body heavy and warm as he finally surrenders to sleep. You listen to his breathing even out, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palm, and with a smile still lingering on your lips, you let yourself drift off with him.
i’d love to hear your thoughts on these taemins … literally any thoughts, words, images that come to mind i just wanted to share these xo 💋
~ warnings; nsfw, dom behaviors
you wanna hear my thoughts about taemin i am literally going to jump on you and squeeze you and scream and cry oh my god.
first of all- the cropped jacket??? his body??? how chiseled he is, sturdy, strong... forget that he's onstage, that's how he looks at you after you mouth off to him and he's strutting across the room to grab you roughly by the waist only to pull you into the bedroom to put you back in your place.... or better yet, he doesnt even wait for the bedroom, he'll flip you around and pin you to the nearest surface and yank your skirt, your jeans, your panties, your whatever, out of the way, and he'll lean over you, pin you down with a smirk on his lips, that shit-eating look in his eyes, and he'll remind you who you're talking to...
the other two photos?! (are we positive that last one is taem...) either way- its sooo giving what i wrote in want... again, stage aside, performance aside, he's a lover as much as he is a smug son of a bitch. he'll tease you to no end, edge you to oblivion, work you up and out until you can't take it any longer, begging, whining for him to slow down, to give you a break, to finally have his turn... and he'll do it all with soft kisses to your jaw.
we've seen his art, we've seen him leave his heart on the stage, his endless passion in every work he releases... who's to say he's not the same in bed, in a relationship... when he loves something, he loves it... but he's gotta work it out, break it apart, know it from the inside out, no corner left undiscovered, he's gotta see it all, feel it all, taste it all, torture it to tears until there is nothing left he hasn't put his hands on...
Unholy thoughts of the day, my precious sugar bunnies: Due to your university loans, you have been forced to take a job at the 7-Eleven store near your home. However, with rent, monthly student fees and your desire for a lavish lifestyle, your modest salary barely helps you to make ends meet. So, you find quite extravagant way to earn extra money: working as an elite escort for idols.
It was this anonymity and sense of security that had led you to agree to work here. Your agency worked with many influential people, from politicians to businessmen, but most of their clients were idols. In the entertainment industry, it was no secret that attractive male stars often used escort services to satisfy their sexual desires, relieve stress or simply relax after a hard day. You knew that your agency even had girls who accompanied groups on their world tours or spent their holidays with them.
But, you never wanted to be anything more than a girl in a dark room for them who could suck their soul through their dick and give them an unforgettable experience of anonymous sex.
You've now been working at the agency for two years and things have been going really well. You've had regular clients who give you gifts and leave good tips, and the sex has always been incredible. All the attractive men you've slept with have been great experiences. You really have nothing to complain about.
But everything you've grown accustomed to literally goes down the drain when one night you find yourself in a room with Park Seonghwa and Jung Wooyoung from ATEEZ and their exaggerated interest in your personalities and your pretty cunt.
You think things can't get any worse, but when life decides to fuck you, it does it hard. So, you nearly have a heart attack when, on one of your nights at the convenience store, you run right into a sweaty and hot Seonghwa, who's stopped by to pick up a few snacks before they head home from dance practice.
And you almost manage to avoid his overly friendly attention if it weren't for Wooyoung, who's turns out right behind you. Although, you're not surprised that these two are literally inseparable, because this is how they like to fuck - with you sandwiched between them, deep and rough stuffing your holes with their thick cocks.
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
Synopsis: you’re a brat. It’s a thing that you and Minho already know, so what happens when you push his buttons a little too much?
Paring: Non!Idol Minho x oc
Genre: smut
Sw: s/d dynamics, hard dom minho, brat oc, name calling ( slut, cumslut ), praise kink, edging, daddy kink, a little bit of cnc, choking ( f.rec), unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it guys-) slapping ( f.rec)
w.c: 1,192
Song of the day: Stretch You Out by Summer walker ft A Boogie wit da Hoodie
m.list|
You like pushing your boyfriends buttons. Just something about how far you can go until he snaps. Like now, you’re face against the pillows as Minho slams his hips against your ass. He hasn’t stopped since you two got back home from a couples date night with a few of your friends.
It was innocent at first, the subtle touches, giggling a little too hard at one of his friends jokes, the dress you had one. The beautiful blue skin tight dress that stopped at your thighs, you thought you looked great. But Minho thought you were showing off a little too much. But what’s the fun in that if you change?
“G-Gonna cum.” You moan out when you feel the burning sensation at the pit of your stomach, and your boyfriend lets out a chuckle before stopping his hips. Your high leaving and a whimper leaves your throat. “You thought you was going to be able to cum? Have you lost your fucking mind?” He grunts, his voice deep and you feel his hand grip your hair pulling you up just a bit from the pillow. “I asked you a question slut. Or are you already too dick drunk to answer me?” He rolls his hips just a bit and you bite your bottom lip.
Should you give Minho a bratty answer?
Yes.
“I thought you wanted me to not speak?” Your ass stings when he slaps your asscheek, and another, another, before he pushes you back against the pillow fucking you harder than before. You could feel his dick stretching your soppy wet cunt and fuck, the way Minho grips your ass, the way you feel his nails dig in your asscheek makes your brain foggy. And he keeps fucking you, treating you like his little rag doll, your pussy creaming around his dick forming a white ring every time he slides back in. A sob leaves your throat as he hits your sweet spot, bruising it every single time.
You’re knees hurt, but the pain was worth it, you even meet his thrust as you slam your as back against him, and Minho loved it. In fact he was stuck in a trance, pulling your asscheek part watching as your cunt sucked him back in. You were so wet, sticky, and warm. After a while you could feel your orgasm fastly approaching and the moans stuck in your throat as you tried to catch your high and as high as it was coming it quickly was taking away by your boyfriend again. You could feel the tears leave your eyes and fall on your cheeks and a sob leaves your lips. “Is my pretty baby crying?” You could feel the fake pout on his lips and he moves again pushing your head deeper in the pillow. “I-I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry.” He hears you babble, a few other words leave your mouth that he can’t make out.
“Oh! So now you’re sorry Princess?” He mumbles, “I know you’re sorry baby, you want daddy to let you cum? You can cum baby. Go ahead cream around daddy’s cock baby. Be a good little slut.” He slams his hips against yours again going harder and you felt like you was about to see stars you could feel the spit falling from your mouth and a loud pitch moan leaves your lips. Minho goes in between your legs and used his thumb to rub small circles on your puffy ignored clit. “G-Gonna cum daddy oh fuck! Thank you thank you!” Your body feels like it’s floating as your orgasm washes over you. Minho rides you through your orgasm mumbling good girl and pulls out slowly before placing you on your back.
“You did such a good job baby.” Minho grabs your left leg and puts it on his shoulder before bending down to place his lips on yours. With his right hand he rubs his dick against your folds before sliding in slowly, a whimper leaves your throat and a groan leaves his as he thrust his hips against yours again. You’re so fucked out that you can’t even kiss him back, your eyes rolled back, your hands digging in the back of his back, your nails trailing down his back leaving red marks. “Fuck, princess you’re so tight- shit are you going to cum again?” He ask you but you can’t form the words, Minho grunts and pulls away from your lips watching your face as you cum again, your legs shaking.
If you could die like this you would, having your boyfriend fuck you so good that you literally couldn’t feel your body anymore. Minho knows your body well, from every touch, every angle, he knows how far you can go. And this was just the tip of the iceberg. “Give me one more baby.” You hear him say, as he goes faster, his hands trail to your throat, squeezing the air flow just a bit. Another high pitched moan leaves your lips and you moan your eyes watching the man above you. The headboard hits against the hall, and you’re surprised there isn’t a dent in the wall.
He goes to rub your clit one more time, going in big tight circles and your hips lift up just a bit, your stomach gets tighter and then you cum, squirting leaving the sheets underneath you soak. “There you go baby, good girl! Fuck just a few more strokes.” You felt overwhelmed, and overstimulated. That last orgasm made stars fill your vision, and just as Minho said, he lets go of your throat and after a few more thrust you feel his cum inside you. And you felt so full too, as he moans lowly filling you up to the brim. After a while Minho kisses your ankle, and looks down at you. “I-I’m sorry baby.” You mumble as you look at him, you sniffle and Minho brings his thumb and wipes the tears that’s was on your face. “You did so well pretty, so well, let’s clean you up hm?” With a nod from you, Minho slides out of you slowly, and puts your leg back down before leaving the bed to clean you up.
Your eyes close for a moment as the bed dips next to you and you feel a warm cloth in between your legs making you whimper. “I’m sorry princess, I just needed to clean you up just a bit. I started the bath water for you. Come on let’s get cleaned up baby.” You give him a drunken smile at his words and open your eyes again. “I love you.” Minho smiles at you and pecks your lips. “I love you more.”
content warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, mirror sex (obv), use of vibrator, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don't)
summary: no plot, just Yunho fucking you in front of a mirror
A/N: this is for @bananayuyu ,you know what you did
Yunho's arm was locked around your chest, his chest hot and hard against your back, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.
“Fucking look into the mirror. Watch me ruin this sweet little cunt,” he grunted into your ear, his breath against your ear making you shiver. You clutched helplessly onto his arm as he thrusted into you. His arm prevented you from collapsing forward and you had no choice but to look into the mirror. Yunho's eyes met yours, dark and intense as he stared at you. His lips curled up in a smirk as you whimpered from a particularly hard thrust.
“You liked that one, huh?” he teased you, his voice deceivingly sweet. You were close and he could tell. Your cunt squeezed around him and he saw your eyes beginning to roll back. He kept his pace, one hand leaving you to grab the discarded vibrator lying next to you. You squealed loudly as he turned it on and pressed it to your clit. You came immediately but he didn't stop. He kept thrusting, pressing the vibrator to your clit. You scratched at his arm, helplessly blubbering in his hold but he just chuckled and kept going.
“What's wrong? Can't handle it, baby?” he cooed at you, turning up the power on the vibrator. Your whole body tensed and Yunho knew what was coming. He changed his angle and kept thrusting into your pussy, his own climax close. His cock was nearly pushed out from the force of your orgasm and he felt you squirt onto him. He watched it happen in the mirror, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. Yunho couldn't hold himself back from cumming anymore and spilled into you with a moan. You went slack in his arms and he tossed the vibrator aside to catch you.
▹ SYNOPSIS: Just Changbin waking you up in the middle of the night for a quickie because you’re too irresistible…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, some swear words, kissing, tit sucking and fondling, nipple play, clit stimulation, sensory deprivation (changbin wants you to keep your eye mask on while he fucks you because he’s just freaky like that), somno kink (consensual), unprotected sex, cockwarming, that’s about it
▹ WORD COUNT: 1.5k — DAY 8
It was well past midnight when you found yourself snuggled up next to your boyfriend in the stillness of the night. The world outside seemed to have surrendered to silence, with the moon casting a gentle glow through the curtains that wrapped everything in a serene aura...
At least, that’s how it felt to you as you lay on your side, feeling the warmth of your boyfriend’s strong arms nuzzled in the curves of your body to cradle you... Changbin, however, had a lot more on his mind than you did, and it wasn’t the usual work stress that kept him awake.
In fact, his restlessness had everything to do with you in this moment… the way you purred against his pillow, with your silk nightgown framing your breasts perfectly... even your occasional wiggling against the sheets was driving him wild...
And to make matters worse, the poor guy was doubt how much longer he could hold himself back from acting on the carnal urges bubbling inside him.
The bed was a mess of scattered pillows and fluffy blankets, with the extra layers only irking Changbin further on…
If things were ideal to your boyfriend's standards right now, he’d already have the both of you be completely naked on the mattress, bodies pressed together in a fit of nerves.
Though, to speak honestly, your boyfriend always had an impatient side, and it only became increasingly obvious as he started stirring behind you, seemingly incapable of finding comfort in the nest of white sheets.
“Keep still, baby,” you mumbled within your snooze, and Changbin’s heart could’ve sang choruses of relief at the feeling of your gentle voice vibrating through his chest.
“Sorry, ____… didn’t mean to wake you,” he lied, feeling himself get even hotter now that you had forced his arm back around you with his right hand falling precariously close to your tits, and it’s like favor landed straight into his lap…
Even though you had a tough day before finally getting to bed, you'd expect for Changbin to at least respect your precious moments of fleeting rest… right?
Wrong.
“Binnie, please quit squirming,” your voice came out all muffled again, but clearly more whiny as his movement persisted, and he’s just now realizing that he was softly grinding his bulge against your ass, massaging your boobs in his grasp—
“I’m tryinggg,” he huffed frustratedly, sounding a bit strained, but by time the sentence actually left his mouth, you had already drifted back to sleep again.
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, feeling a bit hopeless since you weren’t responding to his usual affection. He couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose, but all he wanted was for his girlfriend to give him a little attention, even if just for a few minutes… that’s really all he needed...
“C’mon, princess, I just wanna fool around for a bit,” your boyfriend pouted, groaning into your ear as he kissed you there too, pressing against you a bit harder now, “Please baby, just for a little while… I don’t think I’ll get any sleep without it…”
And with that, he shamelessly groped your tits with more pressure now, squeezing them in the flesh of his meaty hand, thrilled that you weren’t wearing a bra, either...
The flesh of your breasts just fit into his hands perfectly, and he couldn’t help but invite his thumbs to toy with your sensitive nipples next, knowing your body would enjoy the extra attention, even if you were still asleep...
“Mmmm,” you moaned against the pillow, and he assumed that it was just a sleepy noise, but of course, he was wrong...
The sound you made turned him on so much that he sat up with just his upper body so he could lean over you.
And like a starved out man, he managed to wiggle one of your boobs from behind the silky night gown before latching his lips around your nipple and sucking it into his mouth, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you settled into his embrace.
“How can you possible be so enticing to me,” he groaned, briefly closing his eyes, “even while sleeping soundly…”
You were still wearing your bedtime eye mask once you felt the warm covers on the bed abandon your body, followed by your front being fused with the mattress as the weight of your boyfriend’s body rested behind you.
Weakly, you turned your head to face him, using a finger to lift your eye mask and take a peek at him from where you were.
But before you could really see him, he caught your wrists in one hand, lifting your arms above your head, only making you whine at the gentle yet firm way he held you down.
“Close your eyes, love,”he whispered, his other hand sliding your dress up over your curves, “don’t let me disturb your beauty rest…”
“But Binnie, I’m already awake now,” you said quietly, not even bothering to wrestle your hands from beneath his given how tired you were feeling, “I wanna see your face, baby…”
“Shhh, not another word, princess,” he went on, already having taken his pants down just enough to get his cock out, and gosh, did it seem bigger than ever tonight, “just let daddy fuck you back to dreamland…”
His cock was always on the thicker side granted, but it felt as if it had grown another inch in girth since the last time you took him, and although your eyes were covered, he was glad to finally set his eyes upon your glistening folds, barely sliding his tip between them before he had you moaning out his name.
As his desperation wore on, As his urgency built, Changbin finally pushed inside you. The initial tightness was intense, but once you lifted your hips to meet him, he sank all the way in, filling you up completely...
Leaning down to rest his head near yours, his lips trailed down to your temple and then to your cheek, leaving soft kisses in their wake as he rutted into you nice and slow.
Your sleepy eyes crinkled in satisfaction, and somehow, being blindfolded made everything feel even more intense.
“Binnie~” you murmured, your voice thick with drowsiness as his breath hitched, “g-go faster... p-please…”
You were surprised how close you felt to finishing even though he just started, a familiar fire swirling in your lower stomach the more and more he fucked his cock into your hole.
Squelching sounds filled the stillness of the room now, layered by the your frequent whimpers and his manly panting, too...
That’s one thing you always adored about your big, whiny boyfriend… his neediness and absolute obsession with being inside you at every chance he got.
“Aww, fuck,” he grunted, slamming his hips into you as you felt his tip brushing against your g-spot, making you writhe against the sheets.
You felt like he was practically fucking you in half at how fast he was going, and you’re surprised his hips even carried that much stamina given the hour of the night.
Sliding his free hand down, his fingers found your burning clit, rubbing it back and forth to which you simply cried out in pleasure.
And he could tell you were getting close just from the way your gummy walls pulsed around him, but even with your eye mask on, he could still see your beautiful face twist with ecstasy each and every time his juicy cock slammed into you.
“It’s okay, baby,” Changbin grunted breathlessly, his shaggy curls clinging to his forehead now given how much he was sweating, “you don’t have to wait… let it out for me…”
Letting your wrists go, his hands found your hips instead, gripping fiercely at your skin as he kept thrusting into your cunt with all his might.
Taking the place of his, you let your own fingers find your clit, rubbing it in the same way he did as your back arched beneath him, deepening the lengths in which his cock was already reaching inside you.
It didn’t take long for you to climax after that, either, and he almost immediately stopped the thrusting of his hips once you started whining into the pillows, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.
He hadn’t reached his own high yet, but he wanted to stay deep inside you regardless, letting himself lay down now as y'all returned to your initial spooning position.
“Hopefully that didn’t excite you to the point where you can't go back to sleep,” he smiled, kissing the crook of your neck before tugging the eye mask off your face, revealing your beautifully love-smitten features...
“Don't worry, baby... I actually feel a bit more relaxed after that,” you returned with a smile, happy in your heart that you could finally see your boyfriend's adorable face, both your gazes earnest and soft.
Holding you close to with his arms, he kissed the crook of your neck, nuzzling his face there before whispering through a smirk, “well, you can go back to sleep now, princess… promise I won’t disturb you again 'til morning…”
And with that, Changbin simply decided to cockwarm you for the rest of the night, hoping that by time the sun rose at dawn, you’d help him out by returning the favor…
⋆♱✮ Thanks to everyone who made it to the end of DAY 8's fic entry for my Kinktober Event !! Admittedly, this was a bit rushed, but if you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!
FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.
Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader
Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve.
Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz.
A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao
taggies: @mrsevans90
Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new.
You smiled back, albeit a little wary.
"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe.
Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl."
You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.
“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.
But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.
Your face immediately turned bright red.
“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.
He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.
“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.
He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.
“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.
“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”
The excitement drained from his face, “I do?”
“Yes!”
Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.
“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.
As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.
“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”
You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.
"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.
You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.
But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"
You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.
Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”
“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.
As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.
Right?
× × × ×
You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind.
And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself.
"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—"
"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello."
You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”
“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer.
His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach.
"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.
“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.
“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.
His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.
The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access.
“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.
“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”
His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.
"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.
× × × ×
For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.
After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.
You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.
There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.
He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face.
“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
You blinked. Once. Twice.
“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.
He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar.
“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”
Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.
“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"
“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”
You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!"
He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”
“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,” you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.
Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly.
“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room.
You panicked.
"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible
“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer.
You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red.
“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”
But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further.
“Why are you running, baby?”
He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.”
You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.
"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.
"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.
"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.
His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement.
You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control.
And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.
× × × ×
As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.
You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.
“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day.
“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.
You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”
He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours.
“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”
He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin.
“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”
You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”
“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”
Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.
Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.
“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.
You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”
He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”
As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.
× × × ×
The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.
“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.
“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.
You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.
“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”
Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."
His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.
You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”
Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.
You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"
Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted.
cheating on your shitty boyfriend with your best friend johnny storm??? ummm . . . check! ✅️
"shit, baby." he chuckles into your mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist— nails digging into his broad forearms by your head.
"your pussy really fuckin' needed me, huh? poor thing." he hums before pulling his hips back and thrusting deeper into you, earning a shudder from your body.
you moan into his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut— his arms lock around your head as he drives his cock deeper and deeper. it feels so good— your lips opening in a trembling 'o' shape as he drills into you.
your eyes are almost crossing and it makes him laugh— "never thought i'd hafta be the one to treat this pussy right." you nod, and he places a kiss on your lips before speaking— "your boyfriend ain't got shit on me."
you whine, whimper, hiss—
"johnnyyy—. . johnny, oh my god . . fuck— i'm!"
"yeah, yeah. cum for me then, drench me, baby. lay it on me. i deserve it for fucking ya so good." he hums, lips pressing against yours. his tongue licking into your mouth with ease, prodding at yours— its so hot.
you whine for a moment, voice cracking as your cunt convulses around his cock in pulses. he groans, eyes shutting for a brief moment before opening quickly to watch your fucked out face.
he feels you drench his pelvis in squirt, your legs trembling and voice going a pitch higher as he continues to fuck into you— effortlessly riding out your orgasm and overstimulating you.
"mmmnn! mmnn.. ! i luuhhh— mmnn... i luhh youuu—" you whine, hooking your arms around his neck, fat heavy tears spilling from your eyes as he pulls you impossibly close.
"yeah. i love you too, baby. fuck— fuck, i love you."
later . . . — your boyfriend stares at his phone, the message popping up out of nowhere. it reads —
' shiiiiit broo... this ur girl?? she sayin she love me! 😬😬 '
