YOU HAVE TO WALK THROUGH THE DOORS YOU BEG TO HAVE OPEN!!!!! THE CHANGE CANNOT HAPPEN SIMPLY BY THE OPPORTUNITY PRESENTING ITSELF!!!! YOU NEED TO BE OPEN TO SEE IT, CHOOSE IT, AND ACTUALLY MOVE!!!!!
ββββ a nervous first-date prep goes left when your best friend chan catches you. what shouldβve been embarrassing turns into charged eye contact, crossed lines, and one moment that makes the whole βbest friendsβ thing feel very temporary. : 3 758
it was just another friday night, the kind where you were waiting for chan to come over so you could put on a movie like you always did.
you were sprawled across your bed, facing the headboard, chin resting in your hands as you nervously bit your lower lip.
7:49 glowed in the corner of your computer screen.Β
chan was late. like always.
maybe now would be a good time.
he wouldnβt be here for at least another thirty minutes, so you had time, right?
a pornhub tab sat open among your other Google tabs.
what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.
so, somehow, you had convinced yourself that watching porn for the first time was a good idea.
now that you thought about it, it sounded much better in your head. anyways....
somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. still, you didnβt back out. you hit enter, and within seconds, countless search results appeared. not knowing where to start, you clicked the first link, which led you to a site called pornhub.
the homepage was flooded with videos, each with a bold, eye-catching thumbnail. your cheeks burned as you skimmed through the titles, noticing the same words popping up again and again, making you wonder if that was all the site had to offer.
you scrolled through different categories, feeling overwhelmed.
how were you even supposed to choose?
so focused on your βresearch,β headphones on and volume up, you failed to hear the front door open. you didnβt notice chan walking up the stairs, and you definitely didnβt realize he was standing right behind you until he spoke.
and by then, it was too late.
βthe fuck are you doing, sweetheart?β he blurted out, staring at the screen in pure shock at the sight of his supposedly innocent best friend scrolling through pornhub.
well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.
you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat on your bed as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way chan just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.
"iβ this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guyβ well, i... i uhmβ i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class andβ listen, i know this is silly, but..."
"jesus christ, baby, slow down, okay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.
the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire- you have never been this embarrassed before.
"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why on earth would you spend your time waiting for him to watching porn on his laptop.
you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you somehow even forgot that he was coming over, you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. chanβs very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.
"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."
"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.
if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.
honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it.Β
god, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is- there's no chance chanβs letting you near any other man but him.
"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.
it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.
"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.Β
there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.Β
"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle βunlike chan, "that's what best friends are for, aren't they?"Β
he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you.Β
then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way- you cannot deny that.Β
"you, uhm, being my bestfriend is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.Β
"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"Β
your first mistake is, probably, trusting bang chan. "yeah, i do, but..."Β
"that's why im perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give you all the advice you need."Β
to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, chan is a guy- he knows better what guys like, right?
"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.Β
"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."Β
only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.
god, he's been wanting you for months now- he can't believe this is happening.
"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on your bed.
he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.
he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.
your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.
he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, babyβ, he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."
"it's justβ this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.
the actress is beautiful- she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.
the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate βat least that's what the title says.
"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."
"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.
your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.
you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.
as opposed to you, chanβs pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation βhe's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.
you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.
chan soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.
he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.
"youβ you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.
chan notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.
"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."
his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.
your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your bestfriend offering to show you.
chanβs fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."
you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.
"it's throbbing, chanβ¦β you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"
chanβs fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.
"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.
your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.
taking your moan as an invitation, chan carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.
"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.
you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your neighbours. chan notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.
he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.
he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"
βcanβt let everyone know that youβre a slut, hm?β you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply- you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, chan slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.
"so fucking tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.
withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.Β
chan works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.
after a few experimental pokes, chanβs fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.
"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.
you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.
chan leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.
βchan,β you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.
heaven help him. hearing you, his bestfriend, moan his name like that makes chanβs hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.
and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your bestfriend's hand. chan continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.
when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.
"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.
you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.
"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"
"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.
"such a good girl," he praises.
at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.
he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.Β
suddenly, realization hits you. this is your childhood bestfriend for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?
is it really worth it to ruin a friendship like this?
he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.
"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "i'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."
you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?
it's just the tip.
"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.
chan flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.
βchan,β you whimper.
chanβs eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.
he can't fucking take this anymore.
with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.
"jesus, fuck." he grunts.
your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slid the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from chan as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.
"gonnaβ might just nut already, shit" chan mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."
your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further βwhich nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.Β
you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.
this is the fastest chan has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.
you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.
"so fucking gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response.Β
"hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"
you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.
after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.
Summary: Chris has become a spoiled brat when it comes to washing his hair.Ever since you did it for him that one time after commenting about how dry and fried it looked, heβd made you his personal hairdresser. Heβs grateful really, his curls have never looked better and he even now appreciates his curly hair more. However, what he really appreciates more, are your tetas all up in his face whenever you take care of his hair.
Warnings: bang chan x f.reader, friends to ???, smut! mdni!, kissing, oral(m&f.rec), sex on the bathroom counter, unprotected sex(this is fiction,donβt be stupid in real life), Chris calls you nena like itβs your government name, slightly questionable hair care routine, lowkey munch/perv!Chris, Chris has a slick mouth,some dirty talk and teasing,some hair pulling, thereβs some plot somewhere in there, curly haired Chris supremacy because I refuse to shut up about it, may have missed something as usual
W.C: 7.1k
Chris had never been particularly fond of his curly hair, often opting to straighten it since it was easier to manage and deal with. The constant heat styling and bleaching had become routine; a small price to pay for the convenience of low-maintenance mornings and predictable styling. That changed, however, when he met you.
You took genuine pride in your curls and your hair care routine, no matter how long or expensive it was. Heβd watch in fascination as you worked through each step with the precision of a scientist and the care of an artistβleave-in conditioner(not always), curl creams and moisturizers,defining brushes, defining gels, diffusing, oils amongst other things he definitely forgot. You spoke about porosity and protein moisture balance like they were actually important and somehow, you made him believe they were.
He remembers the first time heβd let you wash and style his hair. Heβd been at your place, running your fingers through it absently while you watched a movie together, when youβd suddenly sat up and declared that his hair felt βabsolutely friedβ from all the bleaching and straightening. Before he could protest, youβd already pulled him into the bathroom, armed with an arsenal of products and unwavering determination.
That first experience had been revelatory. The way your fingers had massaged his scalp, the careful attention youβd paid to every strand, the genuine excitement in your eyes when his natural curl pattern started to emergeβit had been intoxicating. Needless to say, Chris had become thoroughly spoiled after that.
Now, whenever his hair needed a breather or some pampering, youβd become his personal hairdresser. Heβd show up at your door with that boyish smile and puppy-dog eyes, asking if you had time for a βquick wash,β though you both knew there was nothing quick about your process.
Not that you were complaining. You hadnβt paid for your own hair care products in the longest time and that was entirely because Chris insisted on covering the costs. βIf Iβm benefiting from them too, I should pay,β heβd argued, waving away your protests as he added yet another expensive curl cream to the online cart. The arrangement had quickly evolved into him replacing your products before you even ran out, his bathroom slowly accumulating its own collection that mirrored yours.
Itβs what has you in your current situation; standing in his bathroom with his head leaned back over the sink as you work shampoo through his dark curls. Water runs through your fingers as you massage his scalp in slow, deliberate circles, working the product into a luxurious lather. His hair is longer now than when you first met, the curls springy and healthy after months of proper care.
βStop looking at me like that,β you chide, catching his gaze fixed upward. βI told you to close your eyes because you always get soap in them.β
βIβm looking at your tiddies if Iβm being honest.β The corner of his mouth quirks up in an unapologetic smirk, his eyes still very much open and not at all focused on anything resembling your face. βYou donβt really expect me to keep my eyes closed for long when theyβre all up in my face, do you?β
Heat rushes to your cheeks as you realize the somewhat compromising position; you leaned over him, the neckline of your shirt offering a view you hadnβt considered when youβd started this whole operation. You flick water at his face in retaliation.
βChristopher!β you gasp, trying to sound scandalized despite the laugh threatening to escape. βYouβre impossible. Close your eyes or Iβm going to get soap in them on purpose.β
βWorth it,β he declares shamelessly, though he does finally let his eyes flutter closed, that self-satisfied grin still playing on his lips. βBut for the record, this is my favorite part of wash day.β
βGetting your hair washed?β
βHaving you take care of me,β he corrects, his voice softer now, more sincere. βThough the view doesnβt hurt.β
You roll your eyes even though he canβt see it but you canβt quite suppress your smile as you continue working the shampoo through his curls, your touch perhaps a bit more tender than before. βYouβre lucky youβre cute.β
βAnd that I pay for your products,β he adds helpfully.
βThat too,β you agree and his quiet laughter vibrates through your fingertips where they rest against his scalp, warm and familiar and entirely too comfortable with making your heart skip beats.
βYouβre still staring, Christopher.β
The use of his full name makes his grin widen rather than diminish. He doesnβt even pretend to look apologetic.
βYouβre pretty.β
The simple statement, delivered with such casual sincerity, makes your breath catch for just a moment. You try to recover quickly, focusing intently on working the shampoo through a particularly stubborn section of curls near his temple.
βFlattery wonβt get you anywhere,β you manage, though your voice comes out softer than you intended, betraying the effect his words have on you.
βAre your lips as soft as they look?β
Your fingers pause in his hair as you look down at him, soap suds forgotten. His eyes are already on you; not wandering anymore but fixed with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. Thereβs something different in his gaze now, something that transforms the playful banter into something heavier, more charged. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller, warmer, the sound of running water fading into background noise.
βYouβre teasing me,β you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers slowly start back massaging but itβs almost automatic now, your mind entirely focused on the way heβs looking at you.
But heβs still staring; not at your chest anymore but at your lips with an attention that feels almost tangible. His tongue darts out to wet his own lips unconsciously, and you track the movement despite yourself.
βIβm really not,β Chris replies, his voice lower now, rougher. Thereβs no trace of his earlier playfulness. βIβve been wanting to know for a while now, actually.β
The confession hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. Water drips from his hair, running down the side of his face but neither of you move to wipe it away. Your hands are still buried in his curls, his head still tilted back over the sink but the position that seemed so innocent moments ago now feels intimate in an entirely different way.
βChrisβ¦β you start, though youβre not sure what youβre planning to sayβa warning, an encouragement, something to break the tension or maybe give in to it.
βCan I?β he asks and thereβs a vulnerability in the question that makes your heart stutter. βKiss you, I mean. Iβve been thinking about it every time you do this. Every time you touch my hair, every time you get close, every time you smile at me when my curls turn out good.β He pauses, swallowing hard. βActually, I think about it pretty much all the time.β
Your breath hitches. The bathroom feels impossibly warm now, steam from the running water curling around you both, or maybe thatβs just the heat of the moment. His eyes search yours, patient despite the wanting written clearly across his features.
βYou still have shampoo in your hair,β you point out weakly, even as your hands slide down from his curls to cup his face, your thumbs brushing along his cheekbones.
His smile is soft, hopeful. βI donβt care.β
βItβs going to get everywhereβ¦β
βI really donβt care,β he repeats and thereβs such certainty in his voice that you canβt help but believe him.
You lean down slowly, giving him every opportunity to change his mind, to laugh it off as a joke. But he doesnβt. Instead, he lifts his head slightly from the sink, meeting you halfway with an eagerness that makes you smile against his lips just before they touch.
The kiss is soft, tentativeβa question and an answer all at once. His lips are warm and gentle against yours, moving with a carefulness that makes your chest ache. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your neck and you canβt even bring yourself to care about the mess.
When you pull back, itβs only barely, your forehead resting against his as you both breathe unevenly. His eyes flutter open, dark and warm and full of something that looks a lot like wonder.
βSofter,β he murmurs, his thumb stroking along your jaw. βDefinitely softer than they look.β
You laugh, the sound breathy and a little unsteady. βYouβre going to get soap in your eyes after all.β
βWorth it,β
Somehow youβve movedβor been movedβfrom standing over the sink to straddling him on the computer chair heβd dragged in from his bedroom earlier, claiming he wanted to be comfortable during the βlong process.β Your fingers are still buried in his shampoo-lathered hair, working through the curls more on instinct than conscious thought now, while his hands have found their home on the curve of your ass, holding you firmly against him.
The kiss starts slow, almost sweetβa gentle exploration of lips and breath but it doesnβt stay that way. Chrisβ fingers flex against you, pulling you closer and you respond by pressing down into his lap, feeling the growing evidence of his interest beneath you. The small noise he makes against your mouth sends heat pooling low in your belly.
His tongue traces the seam of your lips, requesting entry and you grant it without hesitation. The kiss deepens, turns hungry. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans; whether from the scalp massage or the kiss or the way youβre grinding down against him now, youβre not sure. Probably all three.
βFuck,β he breathes against your mouth when you pull back for air, his pupils blown wide, lips already kiss-swollen and wet. His hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, palms hot against your skin. βYou have no idea how long Iβve wanted this.β
βShow me,β you challenge and his eyes darken further.
He kisses you again, harder this time, all teeth and tongue and desperation. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, guiding you to rock against him in a rhythm that has you both panting. You can feel him hard and thick beneath you, the friction even through layers of clothing making your head spin.
Your hands slide from his hair down his neck, his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex as he holds you. Soap suds transfer onto his shirt, onto your arms, neither of you caring about the mess. His mouth leaves yours to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, finding that sensitive spot just below your ear that makes you gasp and arch into him.
βChris,β you whimper and the sound of his name seems to undo something in him.
He sucks a mark into your neck, his teeth grazing the skin before his tongue soothes the sting. Your hips roll against him with more urgency now, chasing friction and his grip tightens almost to the point of painβgrounding and possessive and perfect.
βYou feel so good,β he groans against your throat, his breath hot and ragged. βSo fucking good and weβre not evenββ He cuts himself off with another kiss, this one filthy and demanding, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes you clench around nothing.
Your fingers find the hem of his shirt and slip beneath it, nails dragging up his abs, feeling them contract under your touch. He hisses against your mouth, his hips bucking up involuntarily and the pressure against your core makes you moan.
βWant you,β he pants, his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut like heβs trying to maintain some semblance of control. βBeen wanting you so fucking bad.β
You grind down harder, deliberate and his control visibly frays. His hands slide to your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave marks, encouraging the movement. The chair creaks beneath you with the motion and some distant part of your brain registers that youβre making a complete mess; soap dripping from his hair onto both of you, water spots on your shirt, the whole situation absolutely ridiculous.
But then Chrisβ mouth finds yours again, his tongue sliding deep and you forget to care about anything else. One of his hands moves between your bodies, palming himself through his sweats before his fingers find the button of your jeansβ
βWait,β you gasp, pulling back with what feels like superhuman effort. Youβre both breathing hard, lips swollen, pupils dilated. His hand freezes where it is. βYour hair.β
He blinks at you, looking dazed and thoroughly debauched. βWhat?β
βThe shampoo,β you manage, your voice wrecked. βI need to rinse it out before it dries. And we havenβt even done conditioner yet.β
For a moment, he just stares at you like youβve spoken another language. Then he laughs, the sound breathless and slightly hysterical. βYouβre thinking about my hair care routine right now?β
βIβm always thinking about hair care,β you counter, though you make no move to get off his lap just yet. βAnd you dragged me in here to wash your hair, so weβre finishing what we started.β
His hands slide up your back, still under your shirt, his touch possessive even as his expression turns playful again. βWe can finish other things after?β He nips at your neck, teeth grazing skin thatβs already sensitized from his earlier attention.
The promise in his voice makes heat flare through you again. βAfter,β you agree, finally climbing off his lap on unsteady legs. βNow lean back over the sink before I have to clarify your hair all over again.β
He groans but complies, adjusting himself obviously in his sweats before leaning back over the sink. The outline of him is impossible to miss and you watch his hand linger there for just a moment, applying pressure before he forces himself to grip the arm of the chair instead. βYouβre cruel,β he informs you, tilting his head back under the running water.
βAnd youβre about to have the best conditioned curls of your life,β you reply, trying to ignore how your hands shake slightly as you begin rinsing the shampoo away, white suds swirling down the drain. Your fingers work through his hair methodically, making sure to get every trace of product out. βSo stop complaining and maybe Iβll show you what else my mouth can do.β
The words hang in the steamy air between you and you feel rather than see the way his entire body goes taut. His hands grip the armrest of the chair so hard his knuckles go white and when he speaks, his voice is strained.
βYou canβt just say shit like that and expect me to stay still.β
βI expect you to stay still because you want your hair to look good,β you counter, your fingers working through his curls with practiced efficiency, even as your heart races. βAnd because you know good things come to those who wait.β
βIβve been waiting,β he grumbles, but thereβs heat in his voice rather than real complaint. βFeels like Iβve been waiting forever.β
The water runs clear, all traces of shampoo finally gone but you keep rinsing, taking your time, making him wait just a little bit longer. Your fingers massage his scalp in slow, deliberate circles and youβre rewarded with a low groan that he doesnβt quite manage to suppress.
βThatβs not fair,β he mutters, his eyes still closed, though whether itβs to keep water out or because heβs trying to maintain his composure, youβre not sure.
βWhatβs not fair?β
βYou know what youβre doing to me.β His voice is rough, edged with frustration and want. βYouβre dragging this out on purpose.β
βI have no idea what you mean,β you reply innocently, even as your fingers trail down to the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly. βIβm just being thorough.β
His hips shift against the chair and you know heβs seeking friction, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The knowledge that youβre affecting him this much sends a thrill through you.
When you finallyβfinallyβreach for the conditioner, your movements are deliberately slow. You pump the product into your palm, the soft scent of shea butter and coconut filling the bathroom and take your time warming it between your hands.
βAre you serious right now?β His eyes open, fixing on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. βYouβre really going to make me sit through the entire routine?β
βYou asked me to wash your hair,β you remind him, beginning to work the conditioner through his curls, starting at the ends like you always do. βAnd Iβm going to do it properly.β
βIβm starting to regret that decision,β he says, but his eyes flutter closed again when your fingers reach his scalp, working the product in with the same methodical care you always use.
βLiar,β you murmur, leaning closer. Your breath ghosts across his ear and you feel him shiver. βYou love this.β
βI love you touching me,β he corrects, his voice dropping lower. βI love your hands in my hair. I love the way youβre looking at me right now, like you want to devour me but youβre making yourself wait.β
Your hands pause for just a moment before continuing their work. βAnd what if I do want to devour you?β
His eyes snap open, dark and heated. βThen stop torturing me with hair care and do it already.β
βPatience,β you chide, though your own voice has gone breathy. You work the conditioner through another section of curls, your movements perhaps a bit less steady than before. βGood curls require time and attention.β
βSo do I,β he counters and thereβs a hint of a whine in his voice that makes you smile despite the heat pooling in your belly.
You let the conditioner sit, your fingers playing idly with his curls, no longer pretending thereβs a technical reason for the touch. His eyes track your every movement, watching the way your hands move through his hair, the way your teeth catch your lower lip in concentration.
βYouβre killing me,β he says quietly and this time thereβs no humor in it, just raw honesty. βStanding there looking like that, touching me like this, saying things that make me want to throw you over my shoulder andββ
βAnd what?β you prompt, your fingers stilling in his hair.
He holds your gaze, something challenging flickering in his expression. βAnd make good on every promise in that pretty mouth of yours.β
Heat floods through you at his words, at the way heβs looking at you like heβs two seconds away from doing exactly that. The air between you feels charged, electric, heavy with anticipation.
βLet me rinse this out,β you say, your voice steadier than you feel. βAnd then weβll see about those promises.β
βHow long does it need to sit?β he asks, and thereβs definitely a whine in his voice now.
You glance at the bottle, then back at him with a smile that you know is pure wickedness. βFive to seven minutes.β
The groan he lets out is so pained, so genuinely frustrated, that you almost take pity on him. Almost.
Instead, you lean down, bringing your face close to his, your lips barely an inch from his own. βTick tock, Christopher,β you whisper, and then you pull back, leaving him staring after you with an expression caught somewhere between agony and anticipation.
You make a show of washing your hands, of checking your phone for the time, of doing absolutely anything except acknowledging the way his eyes bore into you. Every second stretches out, thick and heavy with tension, and you can practically feel the restraint itβs taking for him to stay still.
βTimeβs up,β you finally announce and the speed with which he tilts his head back over the sink is almost comical.
Your fingers return to his hair, working out the conditioner with the same care and attention youβve shown throughout the entire process. But this time, thereβs an urgency underlying your movements, a barely contained anticipation that matches the tension radiating from him.
The conditioner rinses away, leaving his curls soft and perfectly defined beneath your fingertips. You run your hands through one more time, making absolutely sure thereβs no product left, before reaching for a towel.
βDone?β he asks and his voice is so hopeful, so desperate, that you canβt help but laugh.
βAlmost.β You wrap the towel around his hair, gently squeezing out excess water. βJust need toββ
But before you can finish the sentence, heβs standing, turning, backing you against the bathroom counter. His hair is still wrapped in the towel, water droplets running down his neck and heβs never looked more beautiful than he does right now; thoroughly disheveled and looking at you like youβre the only thing in the world that matters.
βHairβs done,β he says, his voice rough. βNow, about those promisesβ¦β
βChris, I still need to add products and dryββ
βTurn around.β
His voice has dropped to something darker, more commanding and it sends a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the bathroom. You hesitate, your hand still holding the towel wrapped around his head.
βChrisββ
βWhatβd I just say, nena?β
The endearment rolls off his tongue with an edge that makes your knees weak. His hands find your hips, firm and insistent, and suddenly youβre being guided to turn, to face the mirror above the sink. Your breath catches as you meet his eyes in the reflectionβdark, heated, filled with intent.
βYour hairββ you try again but your protest sounds weak even to your own ears.
βWill still be there in ten minutes,β he finishes for you, stepping closer until his chest is pressed against your back, until you can feel every line of him against you. His hands slide from your hips to splay across your stomach, holding you in place. βRight now, I need you to stop talking about my hair and start making good on what you promised me.β
His lips find the side of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and your head tilts back automatically, giving him better access. In the mirror, you watch his hands move up your body, watch the way your own breath quickens, the way your pupils dilate.
βI didnβt promise anything,β you manage, though your voice comes out breathy and unconvincing.
βNo?β His teeth graze your earlobe, and one hand slides higher, fingers ghosting just beneath the swell of your breast. βSo you werenβt suggesting that your mouth could do other things? Because Iβve been thinking about thatβabout you on your knees for meβfor a while now.β
Heat floods through you, pooling low and insistent. Your hands grip the edge of the counter, knuckles going white.
βTell me you want this,β he murmurs against your ear, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Despite the command in his voice, despite the way his hands are mapping your body like heβs memorizing it, thereβs a question there. Consent wrapped in dominance. βTell me you want me as much as I want you.β
You hold his gaze in the reflection, see the want and the restraint warring in his expression. The towel is still wrapped around his hair, slightly askew now and thereβs something absurdly endearing about it; this moment of raw desire interrupted by hair care, now resuming with even more intensity.
βI want you,β you breathe and watch the way his eyes darken further, the way his grip on you tightens. βI want this.β
βGood,β he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, turning your face toward him so he can capture your lips in a kiss thatβs all heat and promise. βBecause Iβm done waiting.β
When he pulls back, youβre both breathing hard. His thumb traces your lower lip, his eyes following the movement with rapt attention.
βNow,β he says, his voice dropping even lower, βget on your knees for me, nena. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.β
The command sends liquid heat straight through you. Your legs feel unsteady as you turn to face him fully, his hand falling away from your jaw but his eyes never leaving yours. Thereβs something intoxicating about the way heβs looking at you; like heβs been starving and youβre the first meal heβs seen in days.
Slowly, deliberately, you sink down to your knees on the bathroom mat. The tile is cool through the fabric but you barely notice, too focused on the way his breath stutters, the way his hand reaches out to brace against the counter like he needs the support.
From this angle, heβs overwhelming. Youβre eye-level with the very obvious bulge straining against his grey sweats, the fabric doing absolutely nothing to hide how affected he is. Your mouth waters at the sight and when you look up at him through your lashes, you find him staring down at you with an expression thatβs pure hunger.
βFuck,β he breathes and the rawness in his voice makes you clench. His free hand comes up to pull the towel from his hair, tossing it carelessly aside. Damp curls fall around his face, messy and perfect and heβs never looked better. βYou look so good like this. Been dreaming about this.β
βYeah?β You lean forward, pressing your palms against his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. βTell me what youβve been dreaming about.β
His hand moves to your hair, fingers threading through it, not pushing but holding a promise of control. βYou really want to know?β
βEvery detail,β you say, your hands sliding higher, fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweats.
He groans, hips shifting forward involuntarily. βI think about this every time you touch my hair. Every time you lean over me, every time your fingers massage my scalpβ¦I imagine them somewhere else. I imagine your mouth on me, those pretty lips wrapped around my cock while I watch in the mirror.β
Your breath catches at his words, at the explicit honesty of them. You look up at him, finding his eyes blazing, his jaw tight with restraint.
βI think about how good youβd look with tears in your eyes because Iβm too deep but you take it anyway because you want to make me feel good,β he continues, his voice getting rougher with each word. βI think about how sweet youβd sound choking on it, how pretty youβd be when I come down your throat.β
βChris,β you breathe and youβre not sure if itβs a protest or encouragement or just his name torn from you by the sheer want his words inspire.
βToo much?β he asks and despite the dominance in his voice, thereβs genuine concern there too.
You shake your head, your fingers tightening on his waistband. βNot enough. I want it all.β
Something in him breaks at that, what little restraint heβd been clinging to snapping like a thread pulled too tight. His hand tightens in your hair, not painful but firm, guiding.
βThen take them off,β he commands, his voice steady despite the way you can see his chest heaving. βAnd show me how good you can be for me.β
Your hands tremble slightly as you pull at his sweats, dragging them down his hips along with his boxers. He springs free, thick and hard and already leaking, and the sight of him makes your mouth water. Heβs bigger than you expected, flushed and pretty, and you canβt help but lean forward, pressing a kiss to his hip, then lower, teasing.
βDonβt tease,β he warns, his grip in your hair tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. βYouβve made me wait long enough.β
You look up at him, holding his gaze as you finallyβfinallyβwrap your hand around him. Heβs hot and heavy in your palm and the sound he makes when you stroke him once, twice, is absolutely obscene.
βFuck, yes,β he hisses, his free hand bracing harder against the counter. βJust like that.β
But you want more than that. You want to see him fall apart, want to reduce him to nothing but sensation and need. So you lean forward, maintaining eye contact and drag your tongue along the underside of his length, base to tip, feeling him pulse against your lips.
βHoly shit,β he gasps, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. βYour mouthββ
You cut him off by taking him in, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking gently. The taste of him floods your tongueβsalt and skin and pure Chrisβand you moan around him, the vibration making him curse again.
βLook at you,β he groans and you realize heβs angled himself so he can see in the mirror; can watch you on your knees for him, can watch the way your lips stretch around him. βSo fucking perfect. Taking me so well.β
Encouraged by his words, you take him deeper, relaxing your throat, using every trick you know. Your hand works what you canβt fit and you set a rhythm that has him panting above you, his fingers flexing in your hair.
βThatβs it, nena,β he praises, his voice strained. βJust like that. So good for me, so fucking goodββ
You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, and his control visibly wavers. His hips start to move, shallow thrusts that you encourage by relaxing further, letting him take what he needs.
βCan Iββ he starts, then groans when you take him particularly deep. βCan I fuck your mouth? Please, I needββ
You pull off just long enough to gasp, βYes, use me,β before taking him back in and the sound he makes is somewhere between a curse and a prayer.
His grip in your hair becomes purposeful now, holding you steady as he starts to thrust. Itβs slow at first, careful but when you look up at him with watering eyes and moan around him, his restraint cracks further.
βYouβre gonna kill me,β he pants, moving faster now, deeper. βFeel so good, so perfect, fuckββ
Tears are streaming down your face now, your jaw aching in the best way and youβve never felt more powerful than you do in this moment; on your knees but completely in control of his pleasure, reducing him to desperate sounds and broken praise.
βClose,β he warns, his movements becoming erratic. βIβm so close, whereββ
You double your efforts, sucking harder, taking him deeper, making your intentions clear.
βFuck, fuck, fuckkkββ His words dissolve into a groan as he comes, spilling hot and thick down your throat. You swallow around him, working him through it until heβs shaking, until his hand in your hair goes gentle, almost reverent.
When you finally pull off, his eyes are glazed, his chest heaving and he looks thoroughly wrecked. You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and the way heβs staring at youβlike youβve just given him religionβmakes every second worth it.
βJesus fucking Christ,β he breathes finally, reaching down to help you to your feet. Your knees protest the movement but then his mouth is on yours, kissing you deep and dirty, tasting himself on your tongue. βYouβre incredible. That wasβ¦youβreββ
βGood?β you supply with a smile, your voice rough.
βTranscendent,β he corrects, pulling back to look at you properly. His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away the tears there with such tenderness it makes your chest ache. βBut now we have a problem.β
βWhatβs that?β
His eyes darken again, heat already building anew despite what just happened. βI need to return the favor. Need to make you feel as good as you just made me feel. And thenββ his hand slides down your body, cupping between your legs and even through your jeans the pressure makes you gasp, βI need to fuck you properly. Think you can handle that?β
Your breath catches at the promise in his voice. βWhat about your hair?β
He laughs, the sound bright and genuine, before kissing you again. βFuck my hair. It can air dry. Right now, the only thing I care about is getting you out of these clothes and making you scream my name.β
And with the way heβs looking at you, the way his hands are already working at your button, youβre inclined to let him do exactly that.
βLemme at least put some moisturizer in it.β
βDo it with my head between your legs βcause Iβm not waiting.β
The words are barely out of his mouth before heβs moving, hands gripping your hips and lifting you onto the bathroom counter in one fluid motion before pulling up his chair and dropping onto it.
βChrisββ
βReach for your products,β he interrupts, already working at the button of your jeans with practiced efficiency. βYou wanted to do your hair routine? Fine but like this.β
Heat floods through you as he yanks your jeans down your legs, taking your underwear with them. The cool air of the bathroom hits your overheated skin, making you shiver but then his hands are on your thighs, spreading them apart, resting them on the armrests of the chair and suddenly you canβt think about anything else.
βChris, oh my godββ Your hand fumbles behind you for the moisturizer bottle on the counter, nearly knocking it over in your haste.
βThatβs it,β he encourages, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your inner thigh. βGet what you need but donβt you dare ask me to stop.β
You manage to grab the bottle, your hands shaking as you pump product into your palm but the moment you reach for his hair, the moment your fingers make contact with his damp curls, he leans forward and licks a stripe right through your center and you nearly drop the entire bottle.
βFuck!β The word tears from you, your free hand immediately flying to grip the edge of the counter for stability.
βKeep going,β he murmurs against you, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. βWork it through my hair like you always do. Nice and slow. Thorough.β
βYou canβtβI canβtββ Your protest dissolves into a moan as his tongue finds your clit, circling it with maddening precision.
βYou can,β he counters, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in. βYouβre good at multitasking, remember? All those lectures about proper technique?β
Your fingers thread through his curls, trembling as you try to work the product through like you normally wouldβsectioning, smoothing, scrunching to defineβbut itβs nearly impossible when his mouth is doing sinful things to you, when his tongue is alternating between broad strokes and focused attention that has your thighs shaking.
βBaby, pleaseββ Youβre not sure what youβre begging for anymore. For him to stop so you can concentrate? For him to never stop? Both seem equally urgent.
βPlease what, nena?β His words vibrate against you, and the sensation makes you gasp. βYou wanted to finish the routine. So finish it.β
Thereβs a challenge in his voice, even muffled as it is, and something in you rises to meet it. Your hands move with more purpose now, working through another section of his hair, smoothing the product from root to tip, combing the defining brush through then scrunching to encourage his curl pattern; all while heβs eating you out like a man starving.
βThatβs my girl,β he praises when you manage to complete a section and the words combined with a particularly wicked flick of hisββββββββββββββββ tongue has you crying out. βDoing so good for me. Keep going.β
Your head falls back against the mirror, your free hand fisting in his hair; less for styling purposes now and more to hold on, to ground yourself. He doesnβt seem to mindβif anything it spurs him onβhis hands gripping your thighs harder, holding you open for him.
βAlmost done,β you gasp out, your movements becoming more erratic as pleasure builds hot and insistent in your core. βJust need toβay dio, right thereββ
He hums in acknowledgment, focusing his attention exactly where you need it and your hands are shaking so badly now you can barely hold the bottle. You manage to pump out more product, manage to work it through the final section of his hair with movements that are more instinct than technique.
βThere,β you breathe, dropping the bottle carelessly. βDone, Iβm doneββ
βGood,β he growls against you and then both his hands are on you, one sliding up to palm your breast while the other joins his mouth, fingers teasing your entrance before sliding inside. βNow you can stop thinking about my hair and focus on this. On me. On how good Iβm making you feel.β
And god, he is. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars, while his tongue works your clit with relentless precision. The combination is overwhelming, devastating and you can feel yourself hurtling toward the edge embarrassingly fast.
βThatβs it,β he encourages, feeling you clench around his fingers. βLet go for me. Wanna feel you come on my tongue, wanna taste youββ
His words, combined with the addition of another finger, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, send you flying over the edge. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, your back arching off the mirror, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a curse, a benediction.
He works you through it, gentling his touch as you come down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. When you finally open your eyes, still panting, you find him looking up at you with the most self-satisfied smirk youβve ever seen.
βHowβs my hair look?β he asks and you canβt help but laugh, breathless and slightly hysterical.
βLike you just got fucked,β you manage, taking in his thoroughly mussed curls, some sections clearly more defined than others, the whole thing slightly chaotic. βBut honestly? It works for you.β
βYeah?β He rises from the chair, settling between your legs and you can see heβs already hard again, heavy and flushed against his stomach. βWell, itβs gonna look even worse in a few minutes.β
βOh?β You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his lengthβafter you wash itβand revel in the way his breath stutters. βAnd whyβs that?β
βBecause,β he says, capturing your mouth in a kiss that tastes like you, βIβm about to fuck you right here on this counter and I have a feeling youβre gonna pull it pretty hard.β
The promise in his words sends another wave of heat through you. βBold of you to assume Iβm a hair puller.β
βNena,β he says, positioning himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing through your wetness, making you both gasp, βafter what we just did? I know exactly what you are.β
And then heβs pushing inside, slow and steady and so perfectly filling that you do exactly what he predicted; your hands fly to his hair, gripping those carefully moisturized curls, and pull.
The sound he makes is absolutely worth ruining your styling work.
βFuck,β he groans, his hips stuttering as he sinks deeper. βDo that again.β
You oblige, tugging at his hair as he bottoms out and his forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged. βYou feel so good,β he mutters, pulling back only to thrust in again, harder this time. βSo fucking perfect around me.β
Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper, faster. The counter is hard and cold against your ass but you barely notice, too focused on the delicious drag of him inside you, the way heβs hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.
βMore,β you gasp, your nails scraping against his scalp and he responds immediately, his pace becoming punishing, desperate. One hand braces against the mirror beside your head, the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise and the slight pain only adds to the pleasure.
βThis what you wanted?β he pants against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. βWanted me to fuck you like this? Ruin you on this counter?β
βYes,β you moan, your head falling back against the mirror with a dull thunk. βGod, yes, Chrisββ
His mouth finds yours again, swallowing your sounds, his tongue sliding against yours in rhythm with his thrusts. Itβs messy, desperate, perfectβall teeth and tongue and shared breath.
βTouch yourself,β he commands, pulling back just enough to watch your face. βWant to feel you come around my cock.β
Your hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and the added stimulation combined with the angle of his thrusts has you trembling, teetering on the edge already.
βThatβs it,β he encourages, his voice strained. βCan feel you getting tighter. Come for me, baby. Lemme feel it.β
A few more circles of your fingers, a few more perfectly angled thrusts and youβre shattering around him, crying out his name as pleasure whites out your vision. Your walls clench around him rhythmically and the sensation pulls him over the edge with you.
βFuck, fuckββ His hips stutter, burying himself as deep as possible as he comes, spilling hot inside you. His face is buried in your neck and you can feel his lips forming words against your skin; a mixture of your name and curses and praise that makes your chest tight.
You stay like that for a long moment, both of you trying to catch your breath, hearts pounding in sync. Eventually, he lifts his head and the look on his faceβsated and soft and a little awedβmakes you smile.
βSo,β you say, your voice rough and thoroughly used, βhowβs the hair?β
He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest into yours and reaches up to run his fingers through his curls. They spring back, perfectly defined despiteβor maybe because ofβyour rough handling.
βActually looks pretty good,β he admits, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. βMight need to incorporate this into the routine.β
βWhat, the sex or the multitasking?β
βBoth,β he says with that devastating grin.βDefinitely both.β
You shake your head, still smiling but when he leans in to kiss you againβsoft and sweet this time, a contrast to everything that just happenedβyou melt into it, already looking forward to the next wash day.
Hello!! Needed some hyune pottery fics lolol, hyune and reader doing pottery, but reader has a hard time so he βhelpsβ and ends up taking it a bit too far, like heβs saying stuff like βtwo fingers, in and outβ¦yeah..just like thatβ ππ
i know nothing abt pottery so i had to google some things, apologies if i made any mistakes :))
cw. pottery teacher!hyunjin, lots of innuendos, pet names: baby wc. 800 minors dni.
your hands slip again, the lump of wet clay collapsing under your palms. you huff and push a strand of hair from your face with the back of your hand. cold clay sticks to your forehead and you inwardly curse minji for convincing you to join her on this tedious, three-month long pottery course.
and for having the audacity to bail on you and skip today's class in favor of going on a date with some guy she met last month, leaving you to suffer alone under the watchful gaze of teacher hwang β no β teacher hyunjin. one of the most talented, beautiful men you've ever seen. he'd insisted on ditching the honorifics before the first class ended, said he focuses on creating a relaxed, casual atmosphere where people are encouraged to learn something new about themselves.
five classes in and what you've learned is you suck at pottery. you're struggling to throw something that doesn't resemble a lump of dirt. hyunjin makes it look so easy: pretty, elegant fingers gently wrapping around the clay, working their magic.
you sigh. hyunjin chuckles, the sound cutting through the quiet studio.
"you're rushing," he says, stepping closer. his long fingers hover over yours, almost touching. "you've got to be patient with it. ease your hands in. don't fight the shape β guide it."
you nod, swallowing hard, but it doesn't help that he smells of cedarwood and paint. that his chest nearly brushes your back when he leans over you.
"spread your fingers a little more," he says softly. his hands slide over yours now. they're steady, pressing them into the pliant clay. the contrast with the warmth of his hands makes you shiver. "yeah⦠that's it. two fingers, curve them inside. move them in and out slowly."
heat rises to your cheeks at the way he says it. you know he's talking about pottery, but his tone is low. deliberate. it's nearly impossible not to let your mind drift to other places.
"don't just stab at it," hyunjin continues, his hot breath tickling your ear. his fingers press over yours, curling them into the soft clay. "gentle, but firm. push deeper. now pull back, in and out⦠find a steady rhythm. feel how it opens for you?"
a shaky exhale escapes your lips. something heavy tightens in your core but you try to focus on the clay spinning beneath your hands, ignoring the heat of hyunjin's words. his body is flush against yours now, hips grazing your back, his arms caging you in.
"you're too tense," he murmurs, voice dropping so low you have to strain your ears to hear him. "relax your wrists. let me⦠guide you, yeah?"
you nod, not trusting yourself to speak. his hands cover yours completely, long agile fingers wrapped around your smaller ones. he slides them forward and sinks them into the wet clay, pushing deeper. the squelch of it fills the studio and you feel your cheeks grow impossibly hotter.
"good. now pull out. do it again. don't be afraid to get messy."
your breath catches when he rocks forward slightly, just enough to let you feel the hard line of him against your lower back. he doesn't move away. doesn't even pretend to try and hide his knowing smile.
"you feel it, don't you?" he whispers. "the way it warms under your fingers? how wet it gets when you work it just right?"
you press your legs together, trying to ignore the growing ache between your thighs. his fingers lace with yours again and force your hands to thrust in deeper. harder. the clay squelches obscenely, and you can't help the soft whimper that escapes your throat.
hyunjin laughs softly. "that's it. that's what i wanted to hear."
he rocks into you again, the faintest grind of his hips against your ass, and your whole body tenses. his lips graze your ear as he guides your fingers into a steady rhythm.
"two fingers⦠push them in. now out. don't stop, baby. find the pace. that's how you keep it nice and open."
your eyes flutter shut, picturing his nimble fingers stretching your throbbing cunt, preparing you to take something much biggerβ¦
"you're learning fast," hyunjin hums. his hands never stop moving yours, in and out, pressing deeper and spreading wider. "you like it when i teach you like this, don't you?"
you nod helplessly, another whine catching in your throat.
"that's what i thought." you hear the smirk in his voice, lips barely brushing your cheek. "messy students like you are my favorite. can't even get their own fingers to do the job... good thing i like it filthy."
Im very much feeling being pinned to the wall by chan with his fingers in my mouth while he kissed my neck
happy birthday to my favorite man of all time <33
cw. dom!chan, rough backstage quickie, name calling: slut, pet names: baby, good girl wc. 650. minors dni.
the bass thunders through the walls, rattling the flimsy backstage door as chan shoves you against it. another group's halfway through their set; in twenty minutes he needs to be up there, smiling for the crowd.
which means he has plenty of time to ruin you.
you yelp when he flips you around, chest pressed to the wall, his breath hot on your neck.
"quiet," he warns, one big hand wrapping around your jaw and stuffing two fingers past your lips. "don't make a sound, baby. you don't want everyone here to know what a slut you are for me, do you?"
your muffled whine vibrates around his fingers. slick drool coats your tongue as he presses deeper. his other hand drags your dress up, rough palm finding the heat between your thighs.
"fuck, you're soaked. all this from just pinning you here? needy little thing."
he doesn't waste any more time, shoving your panties aside and freeing his cock from his pants. the blunt press at your entrance makes your core throb in anticipation. he's thick, resting heavy there for a moment, and you steel yourself against the wall even though you know it's futile. nothing can prepare you for the stretch.
his hips grind forwards, forcing himself inside with a harsh thrust. your nails catch on the plaster, spit drooling around his fingers when he pushes them deeper into your mouth to stifle the cry bubbling up your throat.
"that's it, baby. bite down if you need to. take it for me."
the angle is filthy: your cheek pressed against the cold wall, your ass bouncing back against him as he sets a rough pace. the sound of skin on skin echoes too loudly, and panic rises in your chest. it only makes your cunt flutter around him.
"hear that?" chan growls in your ear, moving you over his cock. "if anyone walks by, they'll know this perfect little pussy belongs to me."
you whine around his fingers, helpless, as he grinds deep. his cock drags over that sweet spot with every thrust, making you leak all over his leather pants. he doesn't care; snakes his free hand around to play with your clit, rough circles that make your legs tremble.
the heat in your core builds embarrassingly fast and you twitch in his hold. he pulls his fingers free from your mouth with a wet pop, a string of spit connecting them, and slaps your cheek lightly.
"open wider. i want to hear you beg for it."
"chan β please," you gasp. "i need it β"
he chuckles. "greedy thing. can't even wait till after the show⦠already drooling, shaking, bouncing on my cock like the good girl you are."
his fingers pinch your clit and you moan, too loud for the small space. chan doesn't stop you. the noise from outside dulls to a soft thrum until the only sound you notice is his harsh breathing, cock bullying itself deeper between your walls.
"c'mon, baby. you're gonna cum for me. you're gonna cum on my cock and then i'll fill you up, fuck it deeper until it leaks down your thighs."
he slaps your clit and the thread inside you snaps, rough and sudden, cunt clenching and gushing around him. chan groans at the way you pull him in, not slowing down, chasing his own release.
"good girl, that's my good girl," he praises before spilling inside of you with a broken growl. his hips grind against yours, forcing every drop in deeper. "so fucking messy."
he stays still for a moment, the both of you trying to catch your breath before he pulls out and zips himself back up. his cum drips down your thighs. he kisses your swollen mouth and pulls your panties back into place, tapping a finger against the drenched fabric.
"keep it in there for me, baby. i'll fuck it back into you after the show."
the members don't know what's going on between you and jeongin, they just know something is
ΰΏ fluff; secret dating; some of the members are lowkey stupid; comfort
It doesn't start with something obvious. No one walks in on anything, no one sees something they shouldn't.
There's no single moment anyone can point to and say that's it. It's just a feeling. Quiet. Easy to ignore at first, but once it's there.. it doesn't really go away.
Chan notices before he understands it. It's not about what you do, it about where you are. Somehow, no matter the room, no matter the situation, you and jeongin always end up near each other. Not too close, never enough to raise questions, but close enough to feel intentional. If you move, he follows without thinking. If he sits, you're there a second later. Like you're orbiting each other. Like it's natural.
Chan doesn't say anything. He just watches and wonders.
Lee Know notices the timing. One afternoon, you're on the couch, half focused on your phone while the room buzzes with noise.
Jeongin walks in mid conversation, distracted, not looking at anything in particular and yet, you shift. Just slightly. Just enough space opens beside you and without missing a beat, he sits there, like he knew it would be there. Like you knew hed need it.
Your shoulders brush. Neither of you react, but neither of you move away either.
Lee Know watches the whole thing, slow and quiet.
"...huh?"
Jisung notices something different.
Not what you do, but how you feel.
He's talking, pacing around the room, hands moving as fast as his thoughts, words spilling over each other.
You're listening, nodding here and there, reacting just enough. Until you aren't.
At some point, he glances over and pauses.
Because you're not looking at him anymore.
You're looking at Jeongin.
Not in a way that stands out immediately. Not enough to call out.
But soft. Focused. Like you forgot there were other people in the room.
And Jeongin, he's already looking at you.
Not saying anything. Not reacting. Just... there.
Jisung blinks.
"...did | lose you?"
You look back instantly, like something snapped.
"What? No.. keep going."
He squints for a second.
Then lets it go. But the feeling stays.
Hyunjin notices the small things. The kind of things most people would miss.
You're all getting ready, the room loud and messy, everyone moving around each other.
And in the middle of it, you reach out. Just briefly.
You fix the chain around Jeongin's neck, straightening it without thinking. Your fingers brush his collar, lingering just a second too long to be accidental.
It's quick. Casual. Easy to ignore. But Hyunjin doesn't ignore it.
Because Jeongin doesn't react. Not surprised. Not confused.
Just... used to it.
Like it's something that's happened before. Hyunjin tilts his head slightly.
"..interesting."
"What?" Felix asks from beside him.
Hyunjin hums.
"Nothing."
Felix doesn't question it.
He just notices how it feels.
Comfortable. Natural.
Like the two of you exist in the same space without ever disrupting each other. Like you fit.
One night, you're half asleep on the couch, head tilted back, completely out of it.
Jeongin sits next to you.
Quiet. Still. Watching. Not intense. Not obvious.
Just soft. Careful. Like he's making sure you're okay. Like he's used to doing that. Felix smiles to himself.
He doesn't think too much about it.
Just.. that's nice.
Seungmin notices patterns. And patterns don't lie.
So when you hand Jeongin your drink without asking, he pauses.
Because you don't do that. Not with anyone.
Jeongin takes it without hesitation, taking a sip like it's the most normal thing in the world.
"Generous today." Seungmin comments.
You shrug. "I'm not that thirsty."
He hums, watching the way your eyes flicker to Jeongin for just a second before looking away again.
I cant help but think that since so much of Felix's public persona is being this very kind and gentle person that sometimes he just has to take it all out on his partner and be rough af with them π΅βπ« and then as soon as hes done the aftercare is supreme and hes so thankful and happy that they just let him use them like a toy and get all his frustration out.
gahh yes. everyone needs an outlet <33 imagine him with all that post concert adrenaline...
cw. foursome, daddy!chan, mean dom!seungmin, degradation, size kink (jeongin has a big dick bc it's canon) wc. 1700 minors dni.
note. the second drabble for my 7k event, using the prompts #27 "i'll make it fit", #35 "let them use you, baby. show them what a good toy you are" & #57 "sweetheart... you trust daddy more than you trust yourself. don't you?" this isn't proofread. we die like men ig <33
the room feels too small with three pairs of eyes on you.
chan's sitting behind you, his broad chest warm against your back. knowing he feels every shallow inhale and exhale makes your breath quicken. his hand squeezes your thigh; a silent warning to keep them spread while the other strokes lazily up your arm, goosebumps rising in its wake.
seungmin stands a few steps away at the edge of the bed. he's studying your face with intent, committing every twitch of muscle to memory. you feel exposed despite the dim lighting, struggling to keep a neutral expression and ignoring the flush of heat creeping up your neck when a low groan pulls your attention towards the corner.
jeongin's sprawled out in chan's gaming chair, legs spread, already hard and doing nothing to hide it. his eyes are fixed on your pussy. he makes a show of cupping the thick bulge in his pants β trailing his long, slender fingers over the outline of it, substantial even compared to his large hands.
he grins when your eyes meet and you quickly avert them.
"she's nervous," he comments. it doesn't sound like a complaint; it sounds like it's turning him on.
you swallow. when you and chan discussed inviting his friends to the bedroom you didn't expect him to invite both at the same time. the idea of having someone else besides chan had sounded exciting but now, with their hungry gazes all but swallowing you, you wonder if you got in over your head.
your voice wavers. "i β i don't know if i can handle all of you."
chan's chuckle rumbles against your back. "sweetheart," he tilts your chin up so you're forced to look at him, "you trust daddy more than you trust yourself. don't you?"
his thumb drags over your bottom lip, slow and possessive, and arousal coils low in your tummy. you nod without thinking.
"good girl." chan smiles at you, pleased.
seungmin steps closer. his fingers reach out to touch your ankle but stop mid-air, remembering just in time who's in charge here.
"she's shaking," he says to chan, though he's staring at you. "cute."
chan's hand slides down your stomach, stopping between your legs. his fingers spread your pussy for them, pressing just hard enough to make your hips twitch.
"she's ready," he says, "'s always is for me."
there's a hint of pride in his voice. your pulse flutters despite your earlier inhibitions; a familiar mixture of nerves and the desire to make him proud overtakes you.
he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "let them use you, baby. show them what a good toy you are."
you gasp when he flicks your clit, still holding you tight against his chest.
seungmin's grin grows wider. he kneels on the bed in front of you, brings his face closer to your exposed cunt. the way he studies you feels almost clinical. only the set of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders betray his own arousal.
"damn," he muses. "look at her."
jeongin leans forward, exhales with a low whistle that implies he's been holding his breath this whole time. "she's already dripping."
chan smiles against the side of your neck. "she's being good. aren't you, sweetheart?"
you nod, breathe out a confirmation that sounds much needier than intended.
"can i?" seungmin asks. he waits patiently for chan's approval and you can't help but admire the way he carries himself. there's something about his composure that makes your cunt clench at the thought of watching him lose it. at being the cause of it.
then his fingers drag slowly between your folds and you gasp, hips jerking, the touch both too little and too much at once. you whimper, clutching chan's thigh next to you.
seungmin pushes one finger inside just to watch your reaction.
"tight fucking cunt," he divulges. "you sure she can take it? it would be such a shame to break a pretty pussy like this."
you stifle a moan when seungmin adds another finger. he doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest β there's not an ounce of pity in his voice, just a detached certainty adding to the heat simmering under your skin.
across the room jeongin stands and unzips his pants. your gaze drops and you freeze. he's even bigger than you expected: longer than chan, who already has to ease his way into you with careful preparation.
jeongin notices your eyes on him and raises his eyebrows. "scared?"
"a little," you admit.
chan laughs. "i invited him for a reason, baby. didn't think you'd break before he's inside you."
jeongin flashes a smile, all teeth and bright eyes. "i'll make it fit."
"we heard you like it when it hurts a little," seungmin says. he adds a third finger and pushes them deeper, watching you squeeze around his knuckles with a wet squelch. it's all the confirmation he needs.
"needy sluts like you always want it rough. you hear that? this pussy's begging to be filled. bet your little ass wants some of it, too. does your daddy ever fuck you there, sweetheart?"
the pet name rolls off his tongue with a hint of an australian accent and you whimper, his mocking words going straight to your core. you sense he's testing the waters β chan rarely degrades you, but he doesn't seem to mind seungmin's shameless comments.
you wonder what the three of them discussed beforehand. how much chan's told them about you; about the things you like, what the two of you get up to, what you fantasize aboutβ¦
chan tilts your face towards him again and kisses you, deep and messy, stealing whatever resistance you thought you had left. he breaks the kiss with a low growl against your lips.
"they're not going to be gentle with you, baby. i told them not to."
you chase after him, gushing around seungmin's fingers, whining when the other man pulls them out of you. jeongin laughs.
"hands behind your back," chan orders.
there's a buzz of excitement ringing in your ears. you obey. you always do. chan grabs your wrists in one hand, wraps the other arm around your neck to keep you in place. his legs cross yours to prevent them from closing. there's nowhere to go as seungmin moves out of the way, allowing jeongin to crawl between your thighs.
the youngest doesn't wait for chan's permission, doesn't need to hear him say it β the sight of your aching hole enough to have him press the head of his cock against it. he grips your hip, fingers digging hard into your flesh.
then he moves back and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. he slaps his cock on your clit a few times just to see you twitch, thrusts his hips forward so his full length rests atop your belly, showing exactly how deep you'll feel him. the sight alone is enough to make you crumble in chan's hold, palms clammy from nerves and arousal.
jeongin lines himself up again, pushes past your entrance slowly. his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you struggle. a strangled moan escapes your throat and your head drops forward. the stretch is intense, bordering on too much, but jeongin pushes in another inch. he forces your cunt to open around him as chan tightens his grip on your wrists.
seungmin grabs your chin and drags your face back up. "don't be such an ungrateful whore. keep your eyes on your daddy. look at him while another man ruins you."
you expect chan to comment on his friend dictating orders, but he doesn't. he just holds you down firmly when jeongin thrusts in deeper and you try to shift away. you look up at chan with cloudy eyes, their iron grip and jeongin stretching you open so overwhelming you can't do anything but give in. you feel fuzzy, floating between the three of them.
chan's steady voice grounds you. "take it," he says, calm and commanding. "let him in."
your walls flutter helplessly around jeongin's cock, and when he presses in another inch you wonder how much there's still to go. you already feel impossibly full, the stretch brutal and addictive at the same time.
"fuck," jeongin hisses, grinding forward, "she's squeezing me so hard i can barely move."
"oh, you'll move," chan grits through his teeth. "she'll take it."
his voice sounds rougher now, as if he's losing his composure. he rocks his own hips into you, grinding his cock against your ass, looking for friction. your tears fall freely now jeongin's thrusts become harder. sharper. the room fills with the sound of your choked moans mingling with jeongin's low groans as he bullies himself deeper. chan's breathing remains steady behind you, his strong arms holding you exactly where they want you.
"good girl," he praises, not breaking eye contact, soothing you. "i know, i know, baby. biiig stretch, hmm? you're doing so well for us. daddy knew you'd do a good job, letting innie use your pretty pussy. you were made for this. made to take cock. our perfect toy."
his words make your chest swell. he smiles down at you and seungmin's grip on your jaw loosens, his fingers pushing past your lips when jeongin finally bottoms out. you choke around them, such a desperate splutter of moans and whimpers it has seungmin cursing under his breath.
chan's voice floats in and out of your consciousness, a safe haven to anchor yourself to as jeongin starts to fuck you properly. you can't do anything else but melt into chan's hold, head lolling against his shoulder. seungmin replaces his fingers with his cock, taps the head against your lips. tangy-sweet precum mixes with the salt of your tears.
mindlessly, you open your mouth, flatten your tongue against the underside of his shaft. the weight of him is heavy on your tongue and you struggle to divide your focus between lapping at seungmin's cock and the waves of pleasure taking over your body now jeongin's fingers have found your clit.
behind you, chan's voice pulls you back into the moment once more.
going insane at the thought of a skz member keeping a one night stand as a toy to share w the rest of the boys .
dumb girl has no idea hes not asking her to come over for a second time but forever actually .
and the fake pity and condescending tones while shes being spread and held by multiple hands while someones fucking her pussy or throat , goodlooorddddd
yes this is neighbor minsung anon ,, hemlo !
he'd be so proud. bringing her home, then showing her off to the rest of the group... i can see jeongin picking out a pretty little toy from the crowd and taking her backstage. chatting her up, maybe keeping things innocent at first. eventually inviting her to the dorms and getting her comfortable on his cock, sweet pussy too good not to share... but it isn't about the girl, not really. because nothing beats the praise of his hyungs when they bury themselves in her sloppy holes and tell him he's outdone himself, finding them the perfect cocksleeve <33
something I think of often is basically being a stress outlet for skz.. like you go everywhere with them just because youre their own personal toy and outlet.
chan lost a song? heβs face fucking you until hes shooting his cum straight down your throat.
seungmin wasnβt happy with his performance? youβre face down in the bed for hours until heβs done with the your holes.
hyunjin slipped on stage? heβs tying you up however he pleases and making you take everything he gives you, whether its edging or overstimulation or just forcing you to watch him get off over and over.
innie missed a note during a performance? heβs pulling you over his lap and landing fit after hit on your ass, only stopping when he moves to your pussy when your ass gets too hot for his hand.
gahh yes π΅βπ«
minho having another wardrobe malfunction because he's danced too hard or they gave him some flimsy excuse for a shirt again? he's fucking your ass & bullying you for it just to see your empty, deprived pussy leak. he might even use a vibrator on your puffy clit so he can watch your empty hole clench.
changbin can't get his recording right? he'll have you on your back while he forces fat load after fat load into your cunt, holding you down with his strong arms. he'll fold you in half and squat above you to make sure he reaches as deep as he can.
jisung high on adrenaline and feeling antsy after a big event? he's munching on your pussy to soothe himself, not giving you a break even after your third orgasm of the night. he won't let up until both of you stop shaking.
felix giving it his all on stage but coming home with a sore back? he'll have you sit on his cock while he plays his games for hours on end, not caring about you getting sleepy or having to pee. you either hold it for him or you don't, he doesn't care as long as he can feel your warm pussy wrapped around him.
thinking about chan having an obsession playing with your clit. not because it gives you pleasure, but because it calms him and gives his hand something to do while he works, relaxes, or talks on the phone. so you better keep quiet and keep still for him, because youre there to relax him, not distract him..
unless hes feeling mean and will slip in a finger here and there, removing it and making you suck the juice off his finger while he compliments his good little whore for being such a good, wet girl for him. then you know that soon youβll be face down on the bed, face in your own puddle of drool, or on your back with his hand wrapped around your throat <3
the dream life π΅βπ« on some days he'll sit you on his cock and plays with your clit just to feel you clench. he works you into a nice rhythm but always stops before you cum... he just wants to enjoy the soothing feeling of your snug walls around him <33
tips for writing better smut? from writer to writer .... also i've thinking about getting into more kinkier/darker smut topics but i dont know where to start </3
show don't tell where needed, focus on tension and emotions even if it's just a short drabble, and build your characters and their dynamics from the ground up. nothing takes me out of a smut scene more than a discrepancy between the character's behavior during sex and the rest of the fic. even if it's all smut, if someone suddenly gets rrly degrading or smth with zero preamble there's too much dissonance. everyone's behavior needs motive. don't (just) state someone's a dom or a sub or what kinks they're into, show the audience how they behave & why through their actions, words, feelings etc. don't give everything to the reader by explaining it. leave some up for interpretation and trust them to understand.
ofc smut is fictional and therefore not realistic, but there's a fine line between good smut and smut that's too unrealistic or straight up physically impossible. if you're writing a scene with multiple characters you have to be mindful of positioning. watching porn can help w visualization :))
writing dark fic and hard kinks is like writing anything else imo, the same things apply. i write a lot of short scenes because i enjoy the challenge of exploring characters and their dynamics within a limited word count & (hopefully) evoking certain feelings. getting into the psychology behind someone's actions and behavior. for example this short character study exploring the idea of chan w a free use kink. when i write a smut scene i keep things like these in mind even if i don't always write everything out.
and sometimes you js want to write something smutty without putting too much thought into it... and that's fine too :))
everyone has their own preferences when it comes to what they'd consider 'good' smut, but the most important thing is that you have fun writing it <33
thinking about chan coming home after a stressful day, making sure to use the free use agreement you both agreed to. pounding you roughly from behind, arm around your neck keeping you chest to back, whispering the filthiest shit right in your ear.. then when he feels youre on the edge of cumming, he says your favorite words directly into your ear, knowing itll send you right over the edgeβ¦ βcum for me, bitch.β
that recent footage of chan being mad at the people crowding them...? imagine him bringing that energy home and having to get it out of his system π΅βπ«
DEAR LORDDD teasing big dick!minho that he doesnβt even know what to do with itβ¦ corrupting him a thousand percent..
praise and worship heavyyy to get him comfy and making needy sounds for you:( pulling his hair a bit and shit he likes that, feels his cock twitching in his boxers π΅βπ«
heβs shy, all lanky limbs, gentle fingers and careful lips on your collarbone. but thereβs the illusion that he has some controlβ¦ undressing him completely and he doesnβt know what to expect but your hands feel good- different on him already, so he gasps against ur mouth:( βmy pretty.. donβt even know what to do with this big cock, do you?β and he actually BLUSHES oh fuck help meβΉοΈβΉοΈ
- i may as well be π΅βπ« anon if thatβs possible:)
π΅βπ«π΅βπ«π΅βπ« the thoughts you are putting in my head......
pretend you can barely take his big cock, moaning "hurts, minnie, hurts so good," every time he tries to fuck you. knowing full well it not only makes him feel guilty; it makes him leak even more. he's fighting to hold himself back but it's getting harder and harder every time his useless dick slips out of you. he's lining himself up with shaky hands but you just look so small around him. so he settles for rubbing his cock between your soaked folds until he cums all over your stomach.
meanwhile his frustration builds. it won't take long before he loses control and fucks you hard and deep to show you he can put that big cock of his to good use π΅βπ«
Who do you think in skz would be most likely to let you rim THEM? I think definitely Jisung and Hyunjin (although Iβd like to think all of them would like it its one of my favorite things to do <3)
i'd like to think the same although i don't see everyone being into getting rimmed as much... but the ones i think would enjoy it the most are:
maybe surprising to some but i'd put minho first. not because he's the most likely to let you but it'd be an accidental discovery he turns out to be really into. he's either shameless or shy about it and he makes the prettiest, softest noises while you keep his legs spread. folding those pretty thighs open. his ears get so red too <33 and if he's in a more dominant mood he might order you to suck his balls and rim him until your jaw aches
hyunjin: face down, ass up. clawing at the sheets. biting his pillow so he doesn't cry too loud. secretly hoping you'll fuck a couple fingers into him while you're at it (all spit, no lube; he likes it when it stings a little). the type to twist his cock until it hurts while you fuck your tongue into his sensitive hole. goes crazy if you spit on it
jisung letting his freak flag fly and liking ass in all positions... he always insists on trying 69 but the sensations are too overwhelming, so he ends up riding your face instead. arches prettily while he grinds down, unable to keep his hands off your tits in front of him. he cums all over your chest (a lot) just from you licking and sucking on every inch of skin you can reach
honorary mention: chan & changbin, since i don't think they'd be in the mood for it often (they'd prefer to have you sit on their face instead), but they'd let you if you really want to. whatever makes you happy. and secretly they enjoy the attention and praise even if they're shy about it at first. you just can't help it. having all that ass? it's impossible to shut up about how pretty they look and how you need a mouthful <33
minchan threesome where chan fucks you while minho has his hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you down into the mattress. his other hand plays with your clit and slaps it every time chan's thrusts make you moan... because good dolls don't make noise <33
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