i know, time and place, but if i don’t post this now i probably won’t post this ever. here’s some mark x chenle fanart i drew months ago. nsfw under the cut
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort?, implied f2l, reader has had her heart broken before an: ILYT ANON 🫶🏽🫶🏽 i had sm fun with this.. i accidentally made it 100 words more than any of the other ones…
it’s rainy. you’re only in a pair of socks, and you’re sure that if you walk any faster, you’ll slip. you can’t bring yourself to care, though, when chenle and a whole truckload of feelings are following behind you. they lay heavy on your heart, pushing on your lungs just as heart as the air filling them while you speed walk down the sidewalk.
chenle calls your name, “if you’re gonna keep running, can you at least put your shoes on?!” he yells, carrying a pair for you as he chases you.
you stop, pivoting to face him. he’s still a good few feet away, hair soaked as he watches you, a mix of anger and concern set deep in his brows. he really cares, you think, seeing him all soaked in the weather he feels icky about, carrying shoes and a jacket for you. it makes you anxious, magnetizes your nails to the skin on your forearm, scratching it red.
he steps forward, slowly, almost as if he’s approaching a wounded animal. once he’s close enough, his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand away from the other. he stands there, silently, watching, before kneeling down to gently help you into your shoes. once he’s back on his feet, your jacket is swung over your shoulders.
“can we stop running now? stop chasing each other?” he brushes his hair out of his face, wet and clumpy strands slicked back in the rain. if you weren’t so overwhelmed you’d laugh at the sight, him soaked and frowning like a wet cat.
“i’m scared, chenle..” a few tears spill from your eyes, vision burning as they drip and fuse with the raindrops on your cheeks. “this stuff scares me. you know that.”
he sighs, trying his hardest to be patient, yet still frustrated. “i know. but we can try, can’t we?” your body shakes, cries spilling more frequently, “i just need you to let me in. i won’t be like the others. say you want me too. if you.. if you don’t feel the same way i do, that’s okay, but.. can’t you find it in you to give me a chance?”
you pick your head up, finally locking eyes with him, and you see it. he’s so embarrassed, never spilling his heart out like this, yet he’s doing it for you. his cheeks are red, and he wants to look away so bad, but he holds your gaze, showing you how genuine he’s being.
you sigh, eyes squeezing shut as you look to the sky, praying, hoping, that he really is different. when you look back at him, his hand is outstretched towards you, and you take it. it can’t hurt to try one last time.
apologies for the late post i was in the lab from 9am to 1pm LMAO
chenle's cocky. he's leaned back on the headboard, legs spread, arms tucked behind his head.
"you've been brattier than usual," he says, gaze sharp. "you want me to put you in your place, huh?"
you lean forward, straddling his lap, and smile sweetly as your hand slides down his chest. "no," you whisper, pressing your lips to his ear. "i want to put you in yours."
the look he gives you is half amusement, half curiosity. "you think you can handle that?" he challenges.
you roll your hips slowly, just enough to make him stutter. "you think you can stop me?"
you make him strip for you first. he tries to keep the smirk on, but you catch a flicker of hesistation when you stay fully clothed, legs crossed.
when he's bare, you make him kneel. "hands behind your back."
his jaw ticks. "you're enjoying this too much." you walk in a circle around him, slow and predatory. "and you're still talking too much."
you push him back onto the bed, crawling over him. his hands twitch at his sides, but he doesn't dare move. not when you're sliding his wrists above his head and pinning them with one hand.
"good boys don't touch without permission."
"fuck," he mutters, hips bucking when your other hand drags down his chest, nails scraping lightly.
"look at you," you purr, leaning in so your lips brush his. "you love being told what to do, don't you?"
"no-" he starts, defiant, but it turns into a moan when you stroke him, slow and tight.
"what was that?"
he groans. "yes. okay? yes. i fucking love it."
you reward him with a filthy kiss, tongue in his mouth, claiming every part of him. and when you finally sink onto him, his whole body jerks, a broken sound falling from his lips.
"jesus—f-fuck—"
you don't let him move. you stay still, clenching around him hard enough to make him whine. "you're not in control tonight," you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest again. "you cum when i say. not before."
"please," he pants. "please, i'm gonna—i can't—i'm so close—"
you lift off him slowly, making him cry out, slamming back down onto him without warning. his head thumps against the pillow, hands clawing at the sheets.
"you'll take it," you growl. "you'll stay still and take it."
"yes, yes, i'll take it," he sobs. "please, don't stop! don't fucking stop."
you fuck him harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. he gasps your name, hips stuttering as he tries not to cum.
"you gonna be good?" you tease, rolling your hips. "gonna ask permision like a good boy?"
"yes—please, please let me cum, i need it, please—"
you ride him faster, hands raking down his chest just the way he likes it. "cum for me, chenle. be a good boy and fucking cum." and he shatters.
hips jerking, voice breaking into a loud moan, body curling into itself as he spills inside you, so hard it looks painful.
you ride him through it, pushing him into overstimulation, just to hear him whimper.
he's still panting, eyes unfocused, mouth slack. "holy fuck." he mumbles. "who are you."
a/n: this made me crash the fuck out. what the fuck. he’s so. he’s. anyways here’s some subby changbin that has no real beginning or end because i’ve forgotten how to write. smut - MINORS DNI. >1k.
your lips tingle as they trace along smooth skin, rippling muscle vibrating under your ministrations as you move lower and lower. you’re teasing him and he loves it, he’s so responsive to everything you do that it makes you feel like a god. you’ve been at this longer than you can recount, teasing him to the point of him not being able to form full sentences or think for too long.
it’s just what he needs when he’s feeling overwhelmed, bogged down by pressure and expectations. the eagerness to please you takes over his every cell, turning him into your obedient little plaything.
“no one gets to see this but me?” you run the tips of your fingers down his chest, curling them just enough so your nails scrape against his skin and he shudders underneath you. your question is shaped like a command, a silent threat hidden between the syllables of your words.
“mmh, yours,” he gasps out, eyes hazy and half lidded in a way that makes you smirk against his pecs.
“good boy, changbin,” you ignore the whine he lets out, too used to his reactions to praise to let it fluster you. the thing that does pull at your restraint is the way he throws his head back against the pillows, hair forming a dark halo around him and throat fully exposed for you. you lean up to press a kiss to the newly unveiled patch of skin, scraping your teeth gently against his pulse and sucking until you can feel it jump.
“beautiful,” you mutter as you resume your previous path, sliding down until your breath is fanning the dark curls of hair above the band of his briefs. his hand reaches to hover above your head, fingers itching to run through your hair, but he holds it in place just a breath away from you.
oh, he’s such a good boy for you.
“you can touch,” your permission looses whatever taught strings were holding his body and his hand drops into your hair, the weight of it soothing.
“thank you,” he breathes out, well trained.
“touch, but no pulling,” you warn, letting a bit of warmth seep into your voice. you know that he knows better. he’s attuned to everything you want, knows how to read your sighs as you losing your patience and your hums as you being pleased with him. you don’t need to tell him anything to get him to follow instructions.
the power rush it gives you to have this man who’s built like your own personal super hero under your control is insane. you almost didn’t know what to do with the overinflated sense of ego that he gives you with every command he complies with. the weight of his hand against your hair brings you back down to earth, settling the chemicals bouncing around your brain, grounding you.
“ngh,” his voice is strangled as you slide his briefs just enough, the head of his cock catching on the fabric. it’s so hard that it looks painful, and you coo at him in sympathy. really, you had been teasing him with your mouth for longer than necessary, so it was your fault. you lick a slow, wet stripe up your palm, watching as he throws his head back again just to whip it forward. you can see the internal battle of giving in to the overwhelming feelings and keeping his head up to keep his eyes on you.
his lips begin to shape your name as you take his length in your hand, and you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.
“that’s not what you should be calling me right now, is it?” you leave your hand still, giving him the chance to correct his mistake and leaving him throbbing in your grip.
“no, noona,” he gasps, the lovely pink flush traveling up his chest all the way to the tips of his ears.
“that’s my perfect angel,” you coo, resting your burning cheek against his trembling thigh as you let your hand move in a lazy pace. he wasn’t the only one blushing - you were affected by this too, you just kept some brain cells together most of the time.
changbin on the other hand was drooling into the pillows, one hand shaking in your hair and the other fisting the sheets. he gasps when you start to move your hand faster, the sharp intake of air jolting his entire body.
he’s quick to get to the edge of release after so long of being teased and touched and kissed. you can tell he’s close when the muscles in his thigh pull taught under your cheek and he removes his hand from your head to cover his eyes. he’s always shy like this, like he can’t stand to look at himself when he’s falling apart in pleasure. like he knows that the only one who’s allowed to see this is you, removing even his own gaze from the equation.
you’d brought him to tears once when you made him look at himself in the full body mirror you bought just for that purpose.
you keep going, twisting your wrist and letting your fingers dance along his cock until he’s right there -
and you stop.
the whine he lets out is absolutely pitiful, and he goes completely boneless against the mattress. he’s panting, gulping down greedy breathes of oxygen as he tries to understand why he isn’t tumbling over the edge right now.
“you’re perfect,” you murmur, your hungry eyes watching every small movement he makes. it’s beautiful to watch, the trust and adoration in his eyes shining at you even when you’ve denied him a release that he deserves. you turn your head, free from his grip now, and suck a gentle bite into his inner thigh. he garbles low in his throat, blinking slowly as his heartbeat returns to a regular pace.
his eyes drift lazily towards you when you tug his briefs back over his cock, the material of it straining over how hard it is.
“what do you say, angel?” you ask him, crawling up so you can tuck him against your chest. your nails scratch at his back and he chokes out a breath against your chest, floating and overwhelmed and happy despite it all.
“thank you,” it’s so quiet that it’s almost not there, but you hear it as if it was whispered right into your ear.
you deny him an orgasm and he thanks you. you’ve trained him so well. your blood rushes between your legs and you suppress the urge to rub them together - there would be plenty of time for him to take care of that for another time.
“keep being my good boy and I’ll take care of this later,” you shift your leg so your knee is pressed just against his straining cock and you drink in the sound he makes. your thoughts are rushing with ideas of what you want to do with him - tie him up with ropes and ride him until he screams? let him fuck you but don’t let him come until you have at least twice?
you keep petting him as you think, lulling him to sleep against you, a remedy for the dark circles under his eyes and a promise of sweet dreams as he thinks about the reward he will get when he wakes.
too bad you didn’t tell him how long he’ll have to wait until later comes, right?
also thank you @woahfruity for reminding me the difference between affect and effect because ill don’t know (even though she doesn’t know the difference between verb and noun)
