Lizzie @hw4-l1z - Tumblr Blog

so happy to have matched ur freak, hopefully I succeeded again w/ this one...

making chan wear a vibrating plug as you're out w/ the members. they're all joking around about how "chans such a control-freak, he'd never let anyone else take the reigns". while that is happening you're slowly raising the intensity of the vibrations, making him squirm in his seat until he has to excuse himself and head off to the bathroom... (maybe y/n joins him?) if possible, m!reader?? I'll leave it in ur capable hands 🙏

Railway [NSFW]

Summary: What started as a passing comment from Jeongin turns into a very, very fun night for you and Chan. Who knew the strong, control freak of a leader would do something so scandalous in front of his members?

Warnings: sub!bangchan, dom!m!reader, swearing, use of toys (chan!receiving), exhibitionism, semi-public sexual activities (single bathroom), fingering (chan!receiving), minho definitely knows what you’re doing

w.c.: 7.3K

– – –

Male reader my beloved!!!!!! Oh I am overjoyed to see you back in my inbox again. I love any excuse to write Chan as a sub, and the idea of messing with the leader in front of all his kids? Making their hyung squirm while he’s still trying to be a good leader?? Playing with him and he knows he shouldn’t be turned on but he is??? I had a lot of fun with this one >:) I hope you enjoy it! If not you’ll just haaave to send in another request…oh no….

It had started as a passing comment from Jeongin.

You had been over at their dorm, hanging out on the couch, when Chan had gotten a call. He’d immediately settled down with his computer afterwards, one headphone in, murmuring quietly to himself as he typed away. Another work thing, you were sure. As he was typing, Jeongin had popped out to say hi, as if sensing Chan was busy and coming to disturb his peace. You smiled and waved at the younger boy, who eagerly waved back as he peered over Chan’s shoulder curiously.

“What are you working on, hyung?” He asked, pressing in closer to Chan.

Chan elbows him gently in the stomach, pushing him away.

“None of your business, Ayen-ah. Let me work in peace.”

He doesn’t even look away from his computer for a second to say it, and Jeongin gives you an incredulous look, like he’s on a sitcom and you’re the camera. You shrug at him, content to hole up on the couch and wait for your boyfriend to be done. The two of you didn’t really have any plans today, and you were happy to just share the space with him today.

Jeongin leans in closer despite Chan’s warning, and Chan huffs, elbowing him a little harder.

“I’m serious Ayen-ah.”

“If it’s work-related, then I should be allowed to know!” He whines, draping himself across Chan’s back, “We work together. Your work is probably going to affect me, don’t I get a say?”

Chan groans, leaning back into Jeongin. “Jeongin, I swear to god-”

“You’re such a control freak,” Jeongin says with a laugh, pushing off of him, “I was messing around with you, but you took me seriously. Hyung, does Channie hyung ever take a break from having a stick up his-yah!”

Chan swats at him before he can finish his sentence, and he sticks his tongue out at him, settling into the couch next to you.

“Hyung, Channie hyung is being mean to me.” Jeongin says with a pout.

“How rude,” you say, pulling the younger boy closer to you dramatically, eyes twinkling, “You’re just trying to help.”

Chan rolls his eyes at your antics, but goes back to typing. You and Jeongin put something quiet on the TV and curl up, Jeongin’s appetite to mess with Chan successfully fulfilled now that he’s got you on his side.

But your brain is still caught up on the comment Jeongin made. It was little, and it probably was already out of his head, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You suppose it makes sense that the other members saw Chan as a control freak, with how in charge he always has to be in front of them. You also suppose that’s why he’s such a good boy for you in bed, because it’s his chance to let go and just not think for a while.

You also suppose you can use this to your advantage.

You wonder how much it would take for him to break in front of his bandmates. How much pressure you would have to put him under to see that leader facade of his crack and shatter, for his friends to catch a glimpse of the Chan you got to see all the time.

You bring it up to him later, once he’s off of his laptop and Jeongin, who had already gotten bored of the show that he put on, wandered back into his room. You’re splayed across the couch, Chan resting between your legs with his head on your chest. He’s a comforting weight on top of you, and you’re watching some movie you’re only half paying attention to. You’ve been fighting a boner since the idea of messing with Chan in front of his members started to swirl in your head, and now, when you have a sleepy Chan resting peacefully on your chest, was not the time to get hard.

It was the time, however, to mess with him just a little bit.

“Hey, jagiya,” you murmur, voice low and thick, “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” he says, making you huff, “Also, just ask it. What are you asking me for?”

“It’s a sex question.”

“Ah. Ask anyways.” He says that, but there’s red tinging his ears already, like he’s flustered that you’re even thinking something like that right now.

“Would you wear a toy out in public?”

His head jumps up, the crown of it almost smacking your chin as he does. He’s giving you a wide-eyed look, completely bewildered, mouth opening and closing uselessly as he blinks up at you. You shoot him a look back, unamused.

“You told me to just ask-”

“I didn’t think it would be like-would be like…that.” He hisses, pink dusting his cheeks. “Why’re you even thinking about something like that??”

“Ayen-ah called you a control freak earlier,” you said, holding eye contact just to watch him fluster more, “It made me think about using a vibrator on you in front of your members and seeing if you could handle it. See how much of a ‘control freak’ you really are.”

“Jagi!” he whisper-yells, face flushed.

He buries his face back into your chest, fists curling into your hoodie to try and ground himself. Unfortunately for him, his crotch is pressed right against your thigh in this position, and you can feel the half-chub he’s already sporting at the way you’re talking to him. He shifts his hips a bit, but it’s not subtle, and his cock twitches against your thigh.

You press your thigh up, flexing it, grinning when he chokes back a whimper into a keen. It’s high and in his throat, and it makes you sliiiiide a hand down his back and squeeze at his ass. You use your grip on him to press him into the meat of your thigh, and he squirms in your grasp, caught between pushing you away and pressing you closer.

“Like the idea?” You tease, laugh rumbling in your chest when his only response is to whine into your neck.

“C’mon, jagi, use your words,” you faux pout, tone just a little mean, “You’re in control, right? My big boy, all in control and humping my thigh like a dog.”

“Stop,” he whines, but his face comes up so that he can glare at you weakly, “‘nd I like it a little too much. It’s risky, we can’t.”

“We can,” you murmur, slowing his movements to just a grind, “You just have to be good for me and keep quiet. I know you can do it.”

He lets out a shaky exhale, body betraying him as he humps into your thigh harder. You ignore the throbbing of your own erection, focusing now on making him come on your thigh. A few whispered praises and a properly timed flex of your thigh has him tipping over the edge, eyes rolling back and mouth parting in the prettiest ‘o’ you’ve ever seen. No sounds escape his mouth, trapped in his throat as his hips twitch weakly against you.

He presses himself back into you, sticky mess leaking through his pants and onto yours.

“Order one.” he says, voice muffled in your neck.

You blink, shifting to try and look at him. “What?”

“The…you know.” he says, eyes averted. It clicks, and you snort, rolling your eyes at him for trying to be discreet when he’s asking you to put a vibrator in his ass in the foreseeable future.

“Let’s get cleaned up, then you can help me choose one, how about that? Sound good, jagi?” You say, shifting the two of you until you’re upright.

“Okay. Okay.” He responds, mostly to himself.

That was three weeks ago. A week and a half ago, the vibrator showed up in a discreet brown box on your door. The one you had chosen was a pink and round, a little string with a ring on the end tailing off of it for easy removal.

“Like a tampon,” you had murmured, earning you a smack to the back of the head and a glare.

It bluetoothed to a tiny remote, equally as pink as its counterpart. The dial had ten options, which you had turned through on your own just to make sure it wasn’t too intense - the thrill of getting caught was what turned Chan on, but actually getting caught would ruin the scene (and his trust in you). It was perfect though, and when the boys had a free slot in their schedule, you had suggested a group dinner.

“Only if I get to tag along, though!” You had said, to which Jisung had informed you it “wouldn’t be a party without you, hyung” (whatever that means).

You and Chan had set up a nonverbal safeword, plus Chan could text you if he needed to slow down, but not desperately. You had stressed to him over and over that this scene was completely in his hands, not yours.

“It’s about your pleasure, sweet thing, not mine,” you reminded him, “We stop at any point and I will still be proud of you. Promise me you’ll use your word or your signal if it gets too much or you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

He had huffed and puffed, complaining about how he’s “not made of glass”, but he conceded that he would let you know how he’s feeling the whole time.

Now it was the afternoon before, and you had Chan naked and spread on your bed, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He’s on his stomach, looking over his shoulder to watch you as you grab the lube and the toy, placing it gently on the bed next to him.

“Still sure about this, jagi?” you ask, reaching a hand to rub circles into his hip, “If you don’t want to-”

“Just put it in me already!” he whines out, head falling forward to be buried in the sheets.

“Been thinkin’ about it all week. C’mon, please? Need it, need you to make me a mess in front of everyone.”

“Yeah?” you say, pleasantly surprised by his eagerness and his open mouth. You file the fact that he wants his other members to know away for a later day - while the idea of exposing him tonight was enticing, this was a scene between the two of you. You had thought about asking him to bring other people in, to show off just how good of a boy he can be to someone else, but you had to keep yourself composed today. Another day, you think, I’ll talk to him about inviting one of them in, just to watch.

For now, you pop open the bottle of lube in your hands, pouring a generous amount into your hand. You swirl it between your fingers to warm it up a bit before tracing Chan’s rim with your pointer finger, coating it in lube. He shivers, body trying to arch towards you. He clenches around nothing, butt flexing as you tease his entrance. When you continue to tease, pressing just the tip of your finger in and nothing more, he whines, long and drawn out.

“I’ve been good, jagi, just-just put it in already! Please?”

You sigh, but comply, slipping your lubed finger easily into his waiting hole.

“I just like to see you beg, jagi, you know that.” You say, curling your finger so that you catch his prostate on the drag out.

He hisses, back arching, and you press a second finger in, scissoring your fingers a bit to make sure he’s ready to take the toy. It’s small - basically a bullet vibrator on a string - but you don’t want this to be uncomfortable for him at all, so you take a little time to make sure he’s stretched just right. You don’t need more than two fingers, the toy too small for much else, and soon you’re reaching for the little pink thing.

You don’t lube it up, instead pressing it in next to your still wet fingers. You’ve coated his walls enough that it slides in with ease, stretching him open so well with your fingers still inside of him. The sound he makes is pathetic, and it makes you want to make him come apart now, use your fingers to press the toy right to his prostate and crank it up slowly until he falls apart all over your sheets.

Unfortunately for both of you, you have a dinner to get to, and he needs to be on edge. You woefully slide your fingers out, a slick pop! ringing out as they pull out of his entrance. He whimpers, hole clenching around nothing, hips pressing once down into the sheets before he catches himself and stops them. His fists flex and unflex, gripping at the sheets to ground himself enough to get up and get ready for dinner. You smack his ass lightly once with your hand not covered in lube, and he glares back at you. You just stick your tongue out, backing off to go wash your hands and get yourself ready, too.

Getting ready goes smoothly, and while you consider for a moment turning the dial to ‘1’ while Chan is changing, you hold back. The longer it sits in him, comfortable and silent, the more he’ll forget about it, which makes cranking the toy up even more fun. You can’t wait to see his face when he’s sitting down next to his friends, trying to act normal, and you slide the dial up.

“You ready?” Chan says, peeking into the room.

You’re changed, though you do have to adjust your loose pants to make sure that your chub isn’t noticeable. The hardest part of this for you was going to be keeping your own body under control while you watch Chan try and keep himself quiet.

“Ready!” you chirp, double-checking that the little pink remote and small bottle of lube are still hiding in your pocket.

The lube was more you being hopeful that Chan would let you fuck him in the car afterwards, when he’s all worked up and whiny and pliant for you. You love when Chan pushes back and fights your control, but you love it even more when he’s broken down, mind and body all yours to play with and make feel good. And anyways, it never hurts to have on you, just in case.

You drive the two of you to the venue in tense silence. The weight of words sit heavy on both of your tongues, so heavy both of you choose to say nothing at all, instead letting the tension brew and fester. You caught him shifting nervously in his seat a couple of times out of the corner of your eyes, throwing glances at you whenever your hand shifted even a little. You know what he’s thinking about, sure the shape of the vibrator is shifting inside of him every time you hit a bump in the road, hopeful eyes pleading for more but too ashamed to ask for it.

The rest of the drive is a blur, and the walk into the restaurant is, too. Chan informed you earlier that they had rented a private booth in the back of the restaurant for privacy, and you let him guide the two of you to a back entrance, where someone is waiting to let the two of you in.

Everyone but Jeongin is there, which is to be expected, because he’s never on time without Chan nagging him out the door. He also says there’s an “art” to being “fashionably late”, so you figure that he’ll pull in 20 minutes late and have to bashfully order after everyone else already has.

You slide in across from Minho, who just gives you a small nod as a greeting and continues to chat with Changbin. Jisung greets you both excitedly, mouth already running a mile a minute. You catch that he’s happy the two of you made it, but everything else is drowned out in the flow of conversation as everyone else greets the two of you. You settle in, and pick through the menu, fingers coming down below the table to squeeze Chan’s thigh once. He stiffens a little, playing it off by reaching for his own menu and trying to talk with Felix, who’s on his left.

You let things roll out for now, watching the tension in Chan’s shoulder melt into something calmer. Your finger circles the dial in your pocket, watching him intently for a moment as he speaks with Felix, but you wait. You’ll have plenty of chances to mess with him later, you remind yourself, settling in to jump into a conversation with Minho.

The server comes to take orders just as Jeongin comes in, trying (and failing) to seem suave as he plops down next to Felix. He flips the menu open and tells them to come to him last, eyes frantically scanning the menu. You stifle a laugh, casually ordering as you peer at Chan next to you. You wait until he starts to order, mouth opening to talk to the server, and you let your hand drift to your pocket and click the dial up, just once.

The restaurant is too loud for you to hear the quiet buzz of the vibrator nestled inside of him, but you can hear the little squeak that he lets out, and you can see the look he sends you. It’s small, unnoticeable if you weren’t watching his face closely, but you, ever observant, have to bite back a smile. You catch Minho furrowing his eyebrows at the way Chan’s voice cracked, but he doesn’t seem to catch on to what’s happening. Only after the server to the next person does Chan kick you under the table, eyes not meeting yours when you glance over. You bite your tongue again, corners of your mouth curling, but don’t give in to him.

You instead click it up one more setting to watch him squirm, thighs tensing under the table as he shifts uncomfortably. The shifting makes the vibrator inside of him shift too, and he lets out a little breathy sound when it does, lower lip catching between his teeth.

Again, you catch Minho’s eyes drifting over across the table, but he doesn’t even look your way, clearly oblivious to why Chan is squirming, just aware that he is acting strange. You peer around Chan to ask Felix a question, dipping into easy conversation with him. Chan, unamused that you’re just leaving him like this, kicks at your ankle again, this time with more force. You drag your hand down his arm and squeeze the meat of his thigh, higher up than you should - a warning. He recognizes this, but you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow in defiance. He doesn’t do anything yet, though, so you leave it for now.

You leave it there for now, just up to the second setting, a low buzz inside of him that you know will be just present enough for him to feel, but not enough for him to actually get off. Even if he were to shift around until the vibe was pressed right to his prostrate, it wouldn’t be enough, not for him to come, anyways. Enough to drag him slowly towards the edge, but not fast enough to ever tip him over it.

Chan’s jaw has been clenching and unclenching since you turned the dial to two, doing everything in his power to keep his body stock still without making the tension in his body obvious. He’s doing a good job of it, too, tension curling in his fists and jaw to keep it from spreading anywhere else. He’s talking to Changbin about some song he’s working on right now, laughing quietly when Changbin whines about not having heard it yet.

“You know how Channie hyung is,” Jisung says, eyes glinting, “Such a control freak. We won’t be hearing that song until he’s heard it so many times he’s sick of it.”

“Hey I’m not-”

He’s cut off by you bumping the buzzing up not one level, but two. The vibrator is now on the fourth setting, teetering on high enough of a level for Chan to let a real moan slip out. Instead, a shiver wracks his body, and his hand shakes as he reaches for his water. He covers whatever sound was clawing at his throat with a cough, choked and clipped, taking a long swig of water. Some of it dribbles down his chin, hands too unsteady to guide the glass properly to his mouth, and you don’t hide your grin this time.

“You okay?” You ask, voice dripping with faux concern.

“Fine,” he hisses, biting the inside of his cheek, “Just took a weird breath. ‘m fine.”

This time, you meet Minho’s eyes across the table, who’s glancing between the two of you curiously. When you make eye contact, you just raise an eyebrow at him, tilting your head ever so slightly. He narrows his eyes at you, and he glances at your hands, suspicious, but both of them are above the table now. He huffs, sending you a look, but doesn’t say anything.

Chan’s having trouble, now - body unable to resist rocking into the vibrations. He tries not to, but every once and a while his hips twitch and he presses back ever so slightly, like he’s chasing a feeling. Felix isn’t paying any attention, too focused on the conversation he’s having with Jeongin to look right and see that his hyung is straining in his pants.

It’s obvious now, and he’s lucky he wore dark pants, because you know for a fact that, if you pressed your hand down on the front of his pants, there would be a wet spot there. Chan’s always been leaky, but you can tell from the flush clinging to his cheeks and the sweat beading down the back of his neck that this scenario was turning him on even more than normal.

At some point, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining over the table. Jeongin and Hyunjin jokingly gag, and Changbin makes a comment about “young love”, to which Seungmin retorts with “old love, actually”, which sends the table into a fit.

A perfect chance for you to click the vibrator up another setting.

Chan lets out a real sound this time, and even though it’s quiet, you know he’s aware of it by the way his eyes scan the table. Once again, ever-observant Minho is already watching him, and when Chan’s eyes meet his, Minho gives him a once over. Like he knows. Chan isn’t sure that Minho actually knows the details of what’s going on, but Minho clearly knows something more than he should. There’s something predatory in his gaze, and it makes Chan feel small, and, embarrassingly, even more turned on than he was before.

You lean over, mouth so close your breath tickles his ear.

“Looks like Minho hyung knows something, hm? You like that? Like that Minho knows you’re being naughty at dinner, right in front of him? In front of everyone?”

Chan has to squeeze himself through his pants, left hand slipping to his front, to keep himself from coming right then and there. The point of this was that he was good, that he wouldn’t get caught, so why was it so hot that someone knew? That someone did see what he was doing?

“You okay, Channie hyung?” Minho’s voice rings out, cutting through the rest of the conversation easily.

Suddenly there’s seven sets of eyes (eight, including yours) on him. There’s varying levels of concern on their faces, some mixed with curiosity. You can’t help it - you click it up one more setting. His mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. You watch his entire body tense as he lets out a shuddering breath, trying to pull himself together enough to speak.

“You don’t look so good,” Minho pushes, rabbit teeth gleaming as he gives Chan a half-smirk, “Are you okay?”

“I-hah-I’m fine,” he responds through clenched teeth, glassy eyes locking with Minho’s, “Just-my stomach’s a little u-upset. Has been all day. But I’m okay!”

His tone is too cheery there at the end, forced and fake, and you watch the way all of his dongsaengs collectively started to retort.

“You’re so flushed, Channie hyung, are you sure you aren’t sick?” Felix says, ever the angel, leaning forward to press the back of his hand to Chan’s forehead.

“Yah! Such a control freak, never let us take care of you,” Changbin huffs, pointing an accusing finger at Chan, “Really on your dongsaengs every once and a while, huh?”

“I’m fine, r-really,” Chan says, and you click the dial up to seven.

He makes a sound that would have been a wail if he hadn’t choked it back, eyes pinching shut and face scrunching up. This immediately makes everyone jump to retort again, and he just lets his head fall to the table, fingers still tangled in your hand squeezing so hard it hurts.

He stays there for a second, head swirling as every movement he makes shifts the vibrator against his sweet spot, forcing him to bite his tongue so hard to hold back his sounds that he’s drawing blood. All he can taste now is the metallic taste of copper on his tongue and desire, so hot and heavy in his body that he feels it everywhere.

“‘m going to the bathroom,” he declares, voice shockingly clear for someone who’s leaking in his pants, “And I’m fine. I’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

He waves a hand at them as he presses out of his chair, turning around quickly so that (hopefully) no one can see the way he’s straining against his fly so hard it looks like it might burst. The lights are low and his pants are dark, so you think you’re probably the only one who sees it. Minho gives you a knowing look, a head motion beckoning you to follow Chan, but you shake your head lightly. Not yet, not when you want to press him further over the edge. Chan, despite his bratty behavior earlier, wouldn’t come without you. He would wait in that bathroom until either you came to join him, or he was able to calm himself down enough to be composed again.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Jeongin says, nervous eyes searching the table.

You’re about to jump in, but Minho beats you to it.

“Like you said Bin-ah, Channie hyung is such a control freak, he just needs to let go for a second and he’ll be fine. He just needs to find some sort of release.”

The two of you never break eye contact as he says it, knowing eyes peering into yours, half-lidded. There’s something glinting in his eyes that you just can’t place, but you let it go, faking concern.

“Well if he takes too long in there I’ll go check on him,” you huff, pretending to be worried, “He said the same thing earlier, too, when I asked if we should cancel on you guys. Always some nonsense about being ‘fine’ and how I ‘shouldn’t worry.’”

You reach into your pocket again and click the setting down one, settling it back to the sixth level. You can picture the way that Chan probably moaned in despair. While he knows better than to come without you, you also know that he can’t help but push the boundaries. If you know anything about him, and you reckon you do, he’s probably got a finger or two stuffed in his hole with the bullet, and one hand wrapped around his leaking cock.

Conversation starts to flow again, though it’s tentative, and you keep checking your phone. For a text, for a call, for something that indicates that Chan either wants your help right now or that he wants to call this off. You’ll give him ten more minutes before you go to “check” on him, so for now, you play the role of a concerned partner.

You’re asking Felix about his latest modelling project when a text comes. Your phone buzzes on your lap, and you ignore it to let Felix keep talking. Only once Felix has turned the talking back over to you do you flip your phone over, checking the messages. It’s from Chan, and it’s just a photo attachment, nothing else. No caption, no warning. You know exactly what it’s going to be, and you’re careful to angle your phone just right when you respond.

There he is, pants pulled down around his knees, in a single bathroom. You realize with glee that the bathrooms here must be singles, which means you won’t have to be confined to the handicap stall in a dingy restaurant bathroom, trying to be quiet with other people in the room. This makes the risk reasonable, reasonable enough that you might actually help him out when you get to the bathroom.

You let yourself drag your eyes over him for a little longer. It’s a mirror shot, and he’s using one hand to take the photo, while the other hand is slipped around his back. And while you can’t actually see what he’s doing, the way his back is subtly arched forward is enough for you to know he’s probably got his fingers buried inside of himself, right there in the public bathroom. His cock is red, angry and wet with his own precum. It glistens in the fluorescent light of the bathroom, and it makes your mouth water.

You control your breathing, evening your face out to be neutral again. If you do get up to anything in the bathroom, it has to be quick - the others are likely already a little suspicious, and Minho is more than aware of what’s happening. You wouldn’t put it beyond him to tip everyone else off on what’s happening. The clock on your phone tells you that you have two more minutes left to hit that ten minute mark, so you leave him on read. You want him to know that you’ve seen it, but didn’t even deign him with a response. You know that it’ll mess with him to be ignored like that, but it will also push him towards willing submission. He’s going to be beyond desperate when you do finally mosey to the bathroom, ready to bend to your whim just to come already. You can feel your own cock stirring in your pants, and you’re endlessly grateful once again to the low light and the foresight of wearing dark pants.

“Should I go check on him…?” You say, tilting your head at Felix like you’re not already decided. “He’s taking a while…”

“He’s probably just taking a shit,” Jisung says matter-of-factly, and continues when Minho elbows him sharply, “B-but it probably wouldn’t hurt!”

“Want me to come with you?” Minho says, sharp eyes digging into yours, “If he is sick, you might want an extra hand.”

“I’ll text you if I need help getting him to the car or something,” you respond, heat crawling up your neck, “Hopefully he’s just…‘taking a shit’, as Sungie so crassly put it.”

“Yah! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

Minho shushes him, rolling his eyes, but he keeps a keen eye on you as you step away from the table, pupils expanding when you throw him a wink over your shoulder. Two can play the teasing game, and you sure as shit aren’t going to lose to Minho.

You actually have no idea where the bathroom is, and after an embarrassing lap around the restaurant, you have to flag down a member of the staff to direct you there. There’s a set of three single restrooms around a back corner, far secluded from the restaurant, and lucky you, only one of them is occupied. You approach it and rap on the door sharply, three short knocks, just to hear the way Chan’s breath catches through the door.

“Everything okay in there, sir?” you say, voice dripping with mirth, “You’ve been in there quite a while. Was something unsatisfactory with our service?”

The door flies open and you’re dragged in by the collar of your shirt before you realize what’s happening. The door slams shut behind you as Chan presses you to it desperately, hand fumbling behind you to click the lock shut as he seals your mouths together. His tongue is pressing into your mouth the second your lips touch, hot and messy, and he’s fumbling with the buttons of your shirt as he kisses you. You let him get the first two before you’re grabbing his wrist, using your grip on him as leverage to flip the two of you around, caging him against the door.

“Needy baby,” you coo, letting your eyes drag down him, “Couldn’t even wait for me to help?”

“You took so long,” he whines, lips tugging into a pout, “I couldn’t help it!”

“I couldn’t leave right away, jagi, it would’ve been suspicious,” you murmur, breath hot against his neck as you lean down to nip at it, “Minho already knows what a slut you’re being. Thought you were supposed to be in control, what happened?”

He keens, a little too loud for your liking, hips bucking up towards you, searching for friction. You slap a hand over his mouth to muffle his sounds, listening for sounds outside the door. When there’s nothing you relax, pulling your hand away.

“God, it’s like you want the whole restaurant to know what we’re doing,” you sneer, “First your dongsaengs, now this? Come here.”

He wants to protest, tell you that he’s not a slut, but you’re dragging him away from the door and towards the sink, spinning him so that his hands are gripping at the cool porcelain and his back is arched towards you. You’re pressed behind him, and he can feel the swell of you against his ass, making him whimper as he presses back against it. You hiss, then grab his hair, yanking his head back so that he can see himself in the mirror.

He looks debauched, hair tousled and lips swollen. He’s drooling, and there’s tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His eyes find yours in the reflection, and the hunger in your gaze paired with the vibrator, still buzzing incessantly inside of him, is almost enough to make him come. He swears, head falling forward as his hips buck down, body wound tight as he does everything in his power to hold back. You haven’t given him permission, after all.

You press three of your fingers against his lips, and they part without question, tongue swirling around your digits messily. He coats them in spit, already knowing what you need them for.

“Good job.” You say, pulling your fingers from his mouth once you find that they’re sufficiently slick.

Your wet fingers come to press to his waiting hole, and your other hand untangles from his hair to press at the remote in your pocket, turning the dial down to the fourth setting. You don’t want him coming just yet, though the choked, sad sound he makes at the loss is almost enough for you to fold and give him what he wants.

Instead you press two of your fingers in without warning, curling them, searching for the little pink bullet nestled inside of him. He moans, loud and unabashed, the sound echoing through the space. His eyes widen as he brings a shaky hand to his mouth, teeth sinking into the skin to try and stop the sounds. It doesn’t stop the little breaths and whimpers from escaping, and when your fingers do brush the bullet inside of him? He reacts as if he’s been shocked, his whole body jolting and eyes rolling back into his skull.

You search for it again, long fingers scissoring and curling, a third finger slipping in when you’re sure he’s stretched enough to take it.

“That’s it, jagi, taking my fingers so well,” you say, voice sickly sweet compared to your ministrations, “So good for me. Are you going to come around my fingers? Make a mess all over the sink?”

He nods frantically, wide eyes searching for yours again in the mirror. He tries to say something through his fist, but it’s muffled, and you slow your movements down, loving the way that the loss of stimulation makes him wail. It’s a little too loud, but you let it slip this time.

“What’s wrong, jagi? Use your words.” You’re so mean about it, fingers coming to press as the vibe inside of him right as he opens his mouth to speak.

It makes him choke on his words, and even on the fourth setting, the pressure that you’re applying to the bullet is pressing it against his prostate so hard it has him seeing stars.

“Wanna-hnngh, fuck! Wanna come ‘round your-hck! come ‘round your cock,” he whines out, tears finally slipping out of his shiny eyes, “Wanna feel you, please? Please please please, wanna-ooooh-wanna, wanna-”

You cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth. As much as you love the sweet sounds he’s making, you’re still in public, and you’ve been gone for far too long now to fuck into him like he wants. The erection straining in your pants is pleading for attention, but that’s not what tonight is about. You take a deep breath, and keep curling your fingers slowly, keeping him on that edge.

You pull your hand away from his mouth once you know he’s not going to make any more loud sounds, his breathing getting less shaky. You reach your now free hand into your pocket for the remote, and click it up once, to the fifth setting.

“Give me your hand.” You say, and he reaches a shaky hand back.

You place the little pink remote in his hand, guiding his thumb to rest on the dial. He blinks back at you, surprised, but you have a wicked look on your face, your smile all teeth.

“You’re in control, right? We don’t have time for you to come on my cock, jagi, so be a good boy and crank that toy up for me, won’t you? Oh, and don’t drop the remote - drop it, and you won’t come until we’re home.”

He bites his tongue, another moan threatening to tear its way out of his throat. He knows you’re teasing him, playing with the power that you hold over him, but the idea of being good is enough for him to nod, hand clenching tight around the remote.

Your fingers pick up their pace, thrusting into his sharp and quick. Your hand, now free, comes to cup his mouth again, cutting his sounds off into your skin. He presses into the touch, barely able to keep himself up as his legs shake. His thumb slips on the dial and he tries to steady himself, and suddenly the vibrator is on seven. And oh. Oh. He’s not even sure where he is anymore, his body fully succumbing to the burning pleasure coursing through his veins.

He can faintly hear you in the background noise telling him to be quiet, to be good, and he tries. Really, he tries. He thinks that he’s not making any sound, and he hopes it’s true, but all he can hear right now is static in his ears. He can vaguely feel the hot streaks of tears pouring down his face, and the way your hand squeezes at his jaw when they trickle down your fingers.

And then his thumb slips again. And shit, he’s seeing stars.

Because if his vision was whiting out, he could look down, and see that he had just set the buzzing to the highest level, ten. But the second the vibrations pick up, your fingers are finding the bullet and pressing it right to his prostate. And you don’t thrust your fingers anymore, you don’t even breathe - you keep the bullet there, pressed against his most sensitive thought, until he’s babbling under your hand and coming.

And oh, it’s so much. He’s spraying his come across the porcelain, hips bucking forward to try and escape the overwhelming feeling of the vibrations. He feels it everywhere, like a livewire connecting his prostate to his brain, and his orgasm keeps going, and going. It’s obscene how much he comes, and you use the hand that’s covering his mouth to tilt his head so that he’s looking at himself in the mirror, watching himself fall apart. He bites your hand, hard, face flushed with the exertion of coming but also with something akin to embarrassment, but you don’t relent. You wince at the sting, but let him ride out his high.

When it starts to hurt and you can see it on his face, you pull out of him, sticky fingers coming to crank the dial down to zero. He lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, body slumping forward so that his forehead is pressed against the cool glass of the mirror in front of him.

Everything after that is a blur of you guiding him back together, wiping him down and helping him back into his clothes. You fuss with his hair and his collar the most, though you don’t think you can fix the way his collar is just slighted mussed now, crooked in a way that screams what the two of you just did. You sigh, taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror, and hope to god that your erection brings itself down by the time you make it back to the table, because you certainly don’t have the time to take care of it now.

You guide him back to the table, fingers interlaced, two full grown people stepping out of the same bathroom and trying not to be embarrassed about it. You decided to leave the vibrator in him, although you don’t think you’ll be turning it back on again until you’re at home (if at all - Chan might not be able to come again tonight after that release).

When you sit back down, hair pressed back neatly and the only evidence of your bathroom escapade the flush of Chan’s cheeks and the slight crook of his collar, you grin apologetically.

“Jisung-ah, I owe you an apology,” you say as you sit down, “You were 100% right. I had to wait outside the door for him.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Chan shoots you a confused (but grateful) look. His dongsaengs start poking fun at him for a joke he wasn’t even present for, and he plays up his confusion, much to their delight. As this happens, your phone buzzes twice in your pocket, and you glance down to read it.

From: Minho [18:23]

>Looks like the two of you had fun.

>You’ll let me watch next time, won’t you? It’s the least I deserve for keeping your secret.

You raise a challenging eyebrow at him across the table, and he just grins back, eyes heavy and lidded. He mouths “please?” and gives you his best pout, dramatic and fake. You just smirk back, knowing that he’s teasing, that he doesn’t actually mean it, but you can tell from the way Chan flushed earlier that he probably wouldn’t actually mind Minho being there to watch.

“Sure” is all you mouth back, loving the way that ever-composed Minho flushes and blinks back at you, eyes wide.

You message him, eyes lidded, corner of your lower lip catching in your teeth.

>Only if you’ll be good for me.

It’s going to be a long, long night.

I hope your enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Lizzie