hi!! this is p3ndeja6's (me) masterlist of everything i've done so far. I usually do this sort of writing as a hobby (hence the lack of posting) and usually post whenever i can. i write about everything but as of now only skz (other groups in the future?).
also i don't mind any requests you may have in mind!! though i do have to warn, i probably wont get to it on time because I am a full time college student with butt tons of work (save me) so bare with me (āāø ā)
i will be updating whenever i post (also pls dont mind the messy format of this masterlist) and maybe give sneak peeks of upcoming works (ą¹>Ųā¢Ģą¹)
I hope you enjoy!
āāāāąØą§āāāā
categories: š«§Fluff, š„Angst, š„Smut, šŖ· Slice of Life
summary: Hyunjin goes out of town to attend his friendās wedding thatās in the beaches of Latin America , where he finds himself falling in love with a stranger he will never see again.
content: 18+, strangers-to-lovers, instant connection, vacation romance, fleeting love, angst, heartbreak, yearning, bittersweet ending, smut: piv, no protection, tip teasing.
word count: 4.1k
a/n: not proof read completely. im back.
The phone was ringing, the tech-like noise chirp of the facetime call going through. Hyunjin smiles through the camera as he sees his best friend Christopher in the airport ready to fly out.Ā
āAyeee there he is, how's it going?ā hyunjin asked interested
āOh well im about to check inā chris chuckles softlyĀ āall i know is that im going to marry the love of my life in a few hoursā he smiles to himself as he walks through airport
āAnd you have to have to get married in Latin America?" ābecause she wants to make sure her family can be at the wedding and honestly, whatever my girl wants, she will get. Look im about to pass the TSA and they are gett-āĀ
āIF YOU GOT A BELT, TAKE IT OFF- SHOES, JACKETS, BACKPACKS- TAKE IT OFFā the TSA worker yells.Ā
āOh god.. I gotta go. Look jinnie, ill see you over there!ā and he hangs up abruptly.Ā
Hunjin sighs and looks at his half packed suitcase. Its not that he isn't happy for his best friend butā¦ he wishes he could bring someone as his plus one. All his homeboys have dates or are in committed relationships and hyunjinā¦ he's alone.
He hasn't dated anyone since his last breakup, and that one was rough. But hes moved on and hes healed and he's ready to meet someone new. For Hyunjin, he's now seeking a lifetime partner. Not some hookup or one night stand, he's ready for long term, marriage even.
The time for him to start heading towards the airport was getting closer and he had to be there on time. He eases through the airport and before he knows it, he's taking off. Its his first time flying to Latin America, imagining all the food, culture and music the foreign country will bring.Ā
The plane is just landing, the roaring sounds of the engines while the tires screech as they touch the ground, hyunjin has made it to latin soil.
He goes through the process of the foreign airport and as he walks out he sees Chris standing there in a truck.Ā
He whistles impressed, āsheesh.. Since when do you drive trucks?ā hyunjin looks at the truck. āI rented it out for the carrying of stuff to the venue, and luckily it helps with luggages too. Cmon lets take you to the hotelā he loads up hyunjinās luggages and they zoom off to the hotel all the guests were staying in.
It was a nice hotel resort, beautiful pool, casino, and large suites. Hyunjin admired the beauty of Latin agriculture, āso how's the future bride to beā āgod shes driving me crazy.. In a good way. She's hot and crazy, I'll tell you thatā¦ but god..ā Christopher exhales walking alongside him as they head towards the front counter. āWhere are the rest of the guys?ā Hyunjin asks. āOh Minho went out to the market with Changbin and the rest of the guys are barely flying out together.āĀ
Hyunjin nods as they stomp at the front counter, where a nice receptionist greeted them in Spanish. āHola, y bienvenidos!ā She greeted them cheerfully.Ā
Soon after, Hyunjin was finally at his hotel room, admiring the beauty of it all. He had a large king size bed, a mini bar, and a balcony that was pointing at the beach. It was perfect, the air was cool with a hint of the hot sun waving through the area. It was moments like these where he craves that intimacy to share with a significant other, to love and get love back. He sighs as he starts to unpack his suitcase, taking out his toiletries and other products he brought.Ā
Hyunjin was here to support his best friend who was getting married in 20 hours, not to mope around because he was lonely. He had an objective to be happy for his best friend, and that's all that mattered. Even if it killed him, fantasying about wanting exactly what his best friend is living in.Ā
To get rid of his mind, he decided to get out and just walk around. Hyunjin thought it would be better for him to just go out at the beach to walk around and rid his mind from thoughts that would only make him feel bad.Ā
The soft peckles of the sand mushing in between his toes, holding his shoes in his hands as he walks alongside the oceans line. The sun was about to start setting and hyunjin felt like sitting right in front of the sunset, to admire how the beautiful hues of red, pink, orange, yellow all mix together to make the perfect sunset. The clouds are just moving slowly alongside the wind. The soft breeze of the ocean made hyunjin shiver, ever so slightly. The sand was warm due to the sun hitting it all day, he couldn't resist digging his hand deep into the sand, hearing the grainy sound rub against the other millions of sand particles.Ā
He didn't notice someone when someone was slowly approaching him, a girl.Ā
āHi.. sorry to bother your relaxation butā¦ do you mind taking a few pictures of me with this sunset behind?ā as you hold out your digital camera. His eyes widen from the surprise, but quickly hides it with a soft smile, nodding as he stands up, dusting off some of the sand on his butt. He takes the camera from you, figuring out the shutter on the device.
āOk.. um yeah stand right thereā¦ andā¦ clickā¦ perfect!ā he smiled sweetly, looking at the picture he took, āthese came out goodā¦ you have a nice camera..ā he said trying to spark a conversation.Ā
āOh thank you, it's a canon powershot.. It's an old versionā you smiled softly as you showed him your camera. āDo you want any pictures taken?ā you asked gently. Hyunjin couldn't help but give a full wide smile, and nodded. āOh if you don't mindā
You snap a couple of photos of him, sharing insights and jokes with him that he didn't mind at all to laugh at.
The vibes between you two felt like sparks. The instant connection over a few vintage pictures. Not only did pictures bring you together, but after importing the pictures.
āDo you want me to airdrop them to you?ā you asked softly. Both of you were sitting on the ground facing the ocean. āOh I don't mind you sending them to me through textā hyunjin smiled, a soft sweet smile. A smile that melted your heart slightly.
āOkay yeah, my number isā¦ā he started typing your phone number in, sending you a quick text.
āhi :3ā
You couldn't help but chuckle at the new message, quickly saving his contact into your phoneĀ
āSoā¦ā you say softly. āWhat brings you here?āĀ
āOh im here for my best friendās weddingā he says while mindlessly playing with the loose thread of his shorts. You look at him with a gentle smile, thinking it was cute he was he here for his best friendās wedding.Ā
āThat's sweet, heās from here?ā you asked, with a quiet curiosity. Hyunjin shakes his head, āoh no hes not, his fiance is. She wanted to have their wedding hereāĀ
You nod, also playing with the sand, you both play with the sand swishing it in between you fingers letting it rain sand. The constant moving of your fingers make you and hyunjin touch. Hyunjin couldn't help but smile at the thought of you both playing with the sand together, it was romantic in a way.Ā
āWhat's the reason you're here?ā he asked softly, hyunjin didn't mean it in a rude way. He had no intention of being nosy and rude, he simply was curious what brings a beautiful girl to this part of the world, and how he got lucky enough to meet her.
You think for a second before answering him. āWell I do have relatives here, but I'm actually here at the resort for work, surprisinglyā you turn to glance at him, looking into his eyes. You didn't notice the small cute mole underneath his eye. You smiled sweetly at him.Ā
āOh? Work? But it's so beautiful here. There's no way you're here to work?ā he chuckled a little. You laughed as well, noddingĀ
āYeah I really amā¦im taking these pictures because iāve never seen the sunset so beautiful like this beforeā¦ but yeah im here for work.ā
āOkay, so what is it that you are here for?ā Hyunjin couldn't help but to be nosy. āIm here for a seminar, like a training for my professionāĀ
Hyunjin was encapsulated by you and how you spoke so fondly about your job, how it was a passion of yours and the hard work it took to achieve the place you are in now. What felt like the hours passed by quickly, the sun had already set and the sky was now hues of dark blue and the air turned a crisp cold breeze that made one shiver slightly.
āOh wow, weāve been talking for hoursā¦ā Hyunjin commented. āYeah.. it didn't even feel like that much time went byā you smiled at him
There was a moment of silence between you two. Something changed. There was a spark between you that couldn't be explained, an instant connection. It's as if you both felt like you knew each other for years.Ā
Hyunjin stared into your eyes and he felt his heart beat a little faster than normal. He hasn't felt this way in a very long time, this feeling of feeling shy around you. This wasn't like him to feel like he was in love at first sight. Hyunjin felt like he was staring for too long that he quickly looked away, feeling self-conscious. This was being too forward.
āAhemā¦ā he cleared his throat, ālet me walk you back to your room, it's getting late and you have to be ready for hours of hearing people talkā he let out a breathy chuckle.
Ā You smiled and got up from the sand. āYeah you're rightā¦ and you have a wedding to attend early tomorrowā Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh softly. Something about how you spoke encapsulated him so much. His heart was beating faster than normal.Ā
The gentleman hyunjin was, he walked you back to the resort and walked alongside you to your room. It surprisingly wasn't that far from his hotel room. You were a hallway away from him. So close, yet so far.Ā
It might've been too soon but he just had to be with you, he fell hard.Ā
āSooooā¦ goodnight hyunjin, hopefully iāll see you tomorrowā you said softly, it was already late and you were being courteous to the people who were sleeping around you.Ā
āYeahā¦ goodnight y/n.āĀ
He walked away with a huge smile on his face, he did not go to his room but went downstairs to go find his friends. This was the night before the wedding so he had to attend Christopherās bachelorette party.Ā
āHey guys, what are we doing tonightā hyunjin greeted. He still had that stupid love face on.
āWoaaah look who we have here with that smile on his faceā changbin got up to greet his best friend. Hyunjin got shy and pushed him away. āShut up Changbin, it's nothing,ā Hyunjin replied.Ā
āIf its nothing, then why are you smiling so hard? Did you meet a girl??ā jisung got up from his seat to walk towards him. A surprised look on his face as he held his arm tight. Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh, looking at the rest of his friends, all eight of them looking at him funny.Ā
āSo we're going out to drink or what?ā Hyunjin tried to change the topic. āOh no you're not gonna change the topic right now, c'mon tell us. Who did you meet?ā Chris finally spoke, interested in his best friendās new love interest within the 14 hours he was here.Ā
Hyunjin couldn't hold it in any longer. āOkay fineā¦ I met a girl here and ā¦ things felt different. like .. i feel like iāve known her for years when i only spent-āĀ
āThree hours with her,ā Minho interrupted. Hyunjin chuckled embarrassingly, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. āYeah, i know it sounds crazyāĀ
Minho cuts him off immediately, āno it is crazyā the whole group laughs, finding it sweet and humorous that hyunjin seemed to be falling for a girl he just met. On a resort for a wedding for that matter. The guys laugh it up, but ultimately giving him his hype to officially ask you out on a date. Though hyunjin has limited time since he only came here for the wedding. He leaves a day after the wedding.Ā
āI dont know what came over me but i just knowā¦ā there was a moment of silence before hyunjin continued. āI just know it was easy to talk to her and thatā¦ it was easy beingā¦ meā
Hyunjin was in pure bliss at the thought of talking with you again. He wantedā¦ no he needed to see you and talk to you. The night went long, as the guys just went to a club where it wouldn't get Christopher in trouble by his soon to be wife in a couple of hours. Hyunjin couldn't help but reflect on why you had such a pull on him. He had various girlfriends in the past but not one captivated him the way you are naturally and effortlessly doing now.Ā
The wedding was finally in full swing, his best friend was married to the love of his life. Hyunjin watched Christopher dance with his now wife on the dance floor. Everyone was having a good time, the rest of the family and friends were drinking and dancing. It was a night to remember, celebrating life in the best place on earth. Hyunjin decided he needed fresh air and he silently excused himself to walk out onto the beach.Ā
With a drink in hand, Hyunjin took off his shoes and held them with the other hand. He walked further down to the shore, standing in front of the crashing waves. Admiring the cool waves and the chilly breeze. He heard the slushing of sand underneath feet, looking over he felt his heart stop and then beat again.Ā
There you were, beautiful.Ā
You smiled at him, also holding a drink in your hand. Your cheeks were slightly flushed from the alcohol. āHeyā¦ didn't think I'd find you here againā you joked softly. He gave you a small laugh, nodding while raising his drink. āI wanted to look out into the ocean, maybe a glowing stone would find meā he referenced.Ā
That earned him a hearty laugh from you. You walked closer to him, āwell maybe if you sing it a song it willā the banter between you both was flowing just perfectly.Ā
Hyunjin looked down at you, the difference in height unmistaken, his brown eyes bore into your twinkling irises. The sound of the ocean in the background now, before a comfortable silence filled the bubble between you two.Ā
āHow was your best friendās wedding?ā you asked softly. Hyunjin shrugged with a small smile, āwell he's married now, so i think that was a winā he tone lower and huskier as he moved his eyes from your eyes to your lips.Ā
āHmā was all you said.Ā
The tension was too much, and before you knew it, you ended up in his hotel room. He couldn't get enough of your sweet kisses. Hyunjin whined into the kiss as he wanted to get the clothes off you immediately. The once gentle man is now becoming a hungry beast for you and whatever was underneath those clothes.Ā
āMm my godā he muffled into the kiss, speaking to you while still holding you close to his lips. āI can't get enough of youā you were reciprocating the same energy of the passionate kisses he was giving you. Hyunjin gently pushed you on the bed as he got undressed right in front of you. Revealing his slender but toned body, and versace briefs.Ā
You followed along by pulling off your sundress, he was in complete awe with how you looked. There was nothing that could compare with how enamored he was with you. As he crawled on the bed and hovered over you, he planted a sweet and gentle kiss on your already plumped lips. The soft smacking of the lips was all that was heard in the quiet room, with the light crashing sounds of the waves in the background. āI never want this moment to stop, pleaseā¦ pleaseā he wasn't sure what he was begging for anymore. Hyunjin had become this puddle of want, his heart was beating super fast.Ā
His slender fingers slowly creeped down to feel the dampness of your panties, feeling how soaked you are with the simple kissing and the rid of clothes. āBabyā¦ you're so wet for me aren't you. Feeling so sweetā he whispered into your ear, gently biting down your earlobe.Ā
āMm hyunjinā¦ā you let out a breathy moan, rutting your hips up to have him touch more, your body was vibrating in anticipation of pleasure. Hyunjin no longer wanted to wait, he wanted you now. In a swift motion, he pulled down his boxers, quickly shimmying them off. You saw the way his cock sprung out, the pretty pink tip leaking precum. You couldn't help but bring your hand up to smear his leak all over his tip, causing him to twitch and moan. āy/n!ā watching you from below playing with his sensitive tip, he thrusted forward to have more friction from your hand, but you were getting impatient as well. Following along with his teasing, you didn't waste a second to take your panties off.Ā
Hyunjin moaned at the sight of you bare and glistening in slick. āOh baby.. I dont know whether i want to eat you senseless or fuck you dumbā his tone of voice never changing from his soft and sweet tone. His english wasn't the best but that just made the way he spoke to you even better. The room was dimly lit and the soft glow of the old lamp illuminated you in a manner that made Hyunjin's heart pound faster. He dipped his head down to kiss you, licking at your bottom lip, before inserting his tongue into your mouth.Ā
āGod baby, neverā¦hmph felt anything this goodā he teased himself against your slit, before slowly slipping inside you. You arched your back slightly at the sensation of his length slipping into you. Your moan sounded like it hurt adn he stopped, āfuck im sorry, i didnt mean to be roughā he apologized sweetly, kissing just below your ear. You shake your head, āno no its okay, it feels great, please dont stopā you reassured him. Thats all he needed to continue his rhythmic thrusts.Ā
Hyunjin was a romantic and a gentleman with his previous lovers, but something about you made him want to change that. He didnt want gentle, or sweet. He was fucking the shit out of you. He started slow, soft thrusts before you encouraged him to go rougher.Ā
āCmon, dont be scared, i can take itā you egged him on.Ā
His soft moans became low grunts of pleasure. He grabbed your left leg and held it to his side gripping onto your thigh as he pounded deep into your tight wet cunt. āFuckā¦ youre so fucking good, so tight..ā he was showing no mercy. This was nothing you've experienced. You barely know the guy but the way he was owning your body is as if he has you memorized from years before.Ā
āYes! Harder!ā you kept moaning out encouraging words, he was surprised by your eagerness of him going harder. That didn't slow him down. He was pressing you against the mattress, your leg now on his shoulder as he hit your gushy sweet spot. The bed was creaking and the springs of the mattress bounced to each thrust of his. Hyunjin buried his head into your neck, licking and biting into your sweet skin. āBite me harder,ā you moaned. It didn't take him long to follow your order, he was hammering you balls deep, as he bit down on your neck, leaving a purple, red sign of his unofficial official mark of ownership. āWhatever you want baby, ill give it to youā he mewled into your ear.Ā
Both of your climaxes were reaching at the same time, your body clenched around his cock signaling your reach. He pulled away from your neck to place his forehead against yours. Hyunjin was panting into your face, āyeah baby, just like thatā¦ you're such a good girl..ā he moaned shakily. The pleasure was intensifying before you looked up into his eyes, your face scratched up in pleasure. āI'm coming!ā you cried gently. āWait one more second pretty, I wannaā¦ i wanna come with youā he spoke into your face softly, not once did he stop his iron grip from your hip and thigh. It was too much for you to handle, you had to release it. āPlease! Hyunjin!ā you cried tears of delicious overstimulating pleasure. āPlease baby.. Hold it a little longer "Hyunjin whined as he was chasing his climax. He didn't want this to end, but he had to finish with you, he needed this moment to scream fireworks.Ā
You shook your head, no longer being able to hold it in, gripping onto his forearms. You arched your back as the tight knot in your stomach snapped. Hyunjin followed along with your release just a second later, shooting his load into you. His whiny groan echoed the room as he watched you get filled to the brim with his release. He hummed softly as he gave you one last thrust, still watching how you oozed the mixture of his and your pleasure. Exploding in the warm breeze, there were loud booms of colorful lights in the dark sky, both of you turned to the balcony to see how the fireworks were going off. Neither of you said a word but he shifted to lay beside you, pulling out of you slowly. Hyunjin held you from behind as the colors filled the room.Ā
Hyunjin has never felt at peace with anyone like this before, he didn't know what it was about you. How he felt this instant pull to you. You were someone he didn't know he needed in his life, and for some reason, he didn't want you out of it.Ā
He slowly drifted into a slumber of exhaustion. It was the good kind of exhaustion in his opinion. Before he knew it, the sunrise came upon him, the sun ray hit his closed eyes. Scrunching his face he opened them, stretching across the bed. Hyunjin sat up with a smile to look over at you. When he looked over, you were gone.Ā
The only thing there was a note. Written in pretty handwriting, your handwriting.Ā
Iāll never forget you, Hyunjin.
He read it as his heart thumped faster in his chest. His heart felt like it wanted to pop out and explode right in front of him. He didn't understand. He didn't want it to end like this. If this just started, why did it end before it began?
His eyesight became blurry, he shot up out of his bed and ran towards the door, and opened it like a madman. He ran down the hall to the elevator to find you, pressing the button to the lobby. Still in just a pair of shorts and no shirt, people looked at him weird, his glancing looking frantic as he tried to find a glimpse of you.Ā
But there was none, you weren't there.Ā
Chris found him, with a smile on his face, āwoah hyunjin..ā Christopher teased. But Christopher's smile dropped when he saw the tears stream down Hyunjin's face. Chris got worried for his best friend. Grabbing onto his shoulder, empathizing with him. āJin, what's wrong?ā Hyunjin had no words, there was nothing in the dictionary that can be verbally said to describe the grief he is feeling right now. His best friend knew he needed someone right now and helped him back to his hotel room.
The memories of the latin beaches are something he will never forget, something that can never be replaced. Hyunjinās heart was broken, but he was still determined that your paths will cross someday. He would spend the rest of his life loving a woman who had only given him one night. For the rest of his life, Hyunjin would wonder how someone he knew for only a few hours could become the person he would never stop missing.
warnings: not proofread yet, cock warming, slight smut (mdni).
tags: established relationship, fluff and smut, emotional hurt/comfort, domestic fluff.
summary: You spent the entire day thinking about one thing: Han Jisung. More specifically, getting him into bed. Unfortunately, he comes home with tears in his eyes instead.
a/n: two in one night, I'm on fireeee. i still have Yang Jeongin left.
ĖĖĀ°ā¢*āā·
Youāve been stupidly horny all day. So horny you think youāll explode if you donāt get a dick inside you ā preferably your boyfriendās.Ā
It was probably the fact that you stayed home, and you had spent all day watching thirst traps of your boyfriend. Or the fact that your period was coming in exactly three days.Ā
Probably both.Ā
You knew Jisung wasnāt at home, but you still made your way in, kicking off your shoes and grabbing a blanket before wrapping yourself up like a burrito on the couch.Ā
You texted Jisung earlier to let him know you were on your way to his place. He said he would be there soon but didnāt tell you when.Ā
So you waited, eyes closed tightly, trying to ignore the pool in your panties, imagining the way Han Jisung would fuck you the moment he crossed the door.Ā
Youāre afraid that grabbing your phone would make things worse, knowing that your For You page was full of his videos, your wallpaper was him shirtless, and your gallery was full of pictures of him.Ā
You donāt know how long you wait, but you finally hear the door open. You donāt move yet, though. Maybe you can make him think you are asleep, maybe you can make him feel bad for making you wait while you are in heat for god knows how long.Ā
And then the couch dips beside you.Ā
You wait.Ā
Five seconds.Ā
Ten.Ā
Heās quieter than usual.Ā
You were expecting him to try to wake you up, but since that doesnāt happen and you still feel like you might explode, you sit up and climb on top of him, filling him with kisses.Ā
āWhat took you so long?ā you ask, in between kisses. āI missed you,ā you mumbled, going straight to his neck, sucking gently and being careful of not leaving any marks. āIāve been needing you so badly.ā You move your hips over his sweats, pushing yourself down to make the friction harder.Ā
His arms wrap around your waist, and just a second later, you think you hear him sniffle.Ā
You frown and look at his face for the first time that night.Ā
Your stomach drops.Ā
His eyes are red.Ā
āHannie, you okay?ā Your hands grab his cheeks, your eyes full of worry, and you start feeling like the worst girlfriend ever.Ā
āI had a really bad day, Y/n,ā he says, his voice small like heās trying not to start crying again.Ā
āAw,ā you pull him in, hugging him and trying to make yourself as big as you can so he can feel protected. āWhat happened, baby?āĀ
āItās justā¦ā he pouts slightly, almost like he doesnāt realize it. āChan hyung and Changbin hyung and I were working on a song, and I kept giving ideas but this guy we were working with kept saying no to every idea I had and neither Chan or Changbin defended me. And I just felt frustrated and angry, and sad so I stormed out of the studio and Chan hyung scolded me,ā his eyes got glossy again and you felt like you might start crying with him.Ā
āHe scolded you? Did you try to explain?ā You asked, your hands going through his hair, to give him as much comfort as you could.Ā
āI did. And I swear, baby, they were good ideas.ā One tear slips out, and you clean it before bringing him in again.Ā
āDo you want me toā¦ā he interrupted you before you could finish your question.Ā
āNo, Y/n, you canāt kill them. Iād miss them,ā he says.Ā
You groan dramatically. āFine.ā That makes him laugh a little. āYou know what? We can wear our matching pijamas, go on bed, cuddle and watch Howlās moving castle, yeah?ā You smile sweetly at him.Ā
He nods. āCan we do that after I fuck you, though?ā His face doesnāt match his words.Ā
āNo, Hannie. Itās fine.ā You think he feels bad for making you wait all day, horny, just to not fuck you at the end, but then he grabs your hand, and makes you touch his dick over his clothes. Heās hard.Ā
āYou did this.āĀ
You laugh. āIt doesnāt feel right to fuck while you still have tears in your eyes,ā you say.Ā
āUsually you donāt mind,ā he says, and you chuckle.Ā
āBaby, not this type of tears.āĀ
āIf I donāt get my dick inside you, I might die,ā he whines, wrapping his arms around you even harder, and the familiar tickling feeling comes back almost immediately.Ā
āTell you what? I can warm you, but no more, okay?āĀ
He nods. āFine with me.āĀ
He loosens his arms, and you stand up to take off your sweats and your panties. He only lowers his sweats and boxers enough to take his cock out.Ā
Thereās no need to prep yourself because of how wet you are. It helps a lot to slide smoothly, but you still close your eyes tightly once heās all in.Ā
You moan because the feeling of being full of him makes you feel so good. Better than whatever you couldāve done with yourself at home, and you think itās good that youāve waited. Heās breathing hard, and none of you is moving, but he seems like he might burst any moment now.Ā
āFeeling better already,ā he mumbles. You chuckle and kiss his lips.Ā
pairing: bangchan x f!reader genre: smut, drabble (minors dni) word count: 648 warnings: determined bangchan, bangchan talks you through it if you look closely while walking a mile in louboutins, first time squirting, mating press, creampie (please. do. not. do. it. PLEASE), dom!bangchan in a way, breath play in a way as well????, bangchan burying his face in your tits, lmk if i missed any hehe authorās note: ifinallywrotesomethingpleasedonātcomeformeifitskindatrash inspired by: often - the weeknd
chan had you laying down, legs pressed down on either side of your head, and a pillow strategically placed under your lower back. whimpers and whines falling from your saliva slicked lips right onto his, sharing the same oxygen as if you both needed it to survive. he is not too far behind you though, letting out soft groans and low moans. you two have been going at it for a good hour, however, that was all his plan and not yours.
your sweet boyfriend had learned that you have never squirted before. your past partners couldnāt get the job done and quite frankly you couldnāt either. you have tried before but grew frustrated at the anticlimactic outcome, quite literally. you had decided that you just were one of the few people who werenāt able to do it. chan on the other hand, knew you could and was determined to get you to that point.
your legs trembled beneath his rough grip, overstimulation making its presence known with every orgasm chan provides you. āc-chanā¦ i canāt- fuck! i canāt t-take anymoreā you managed to say. āyes you can, baby. need to get you all nice and overstimulated so you can squirtā chan replies, his voice dripping with desire and excitement as he proceeds to plow into your divine cunt. youāve been down this road many times before and you already know the outcome, you shake your head at his words, āi c-canāt, chanā you respond in a defeated tone. āyes. you. can.ā chan replies rather roughly, changing the angle of thrust slightly and continuing his punishing pace.
a gasp was ripped out from your throat as the mushroom tip of his cock rams your sweet spot repeatedly. your whimpers start to get louder and higher in pitch as you feel another orgasm approaching rapidly. āthere it is, baby. thatās the spot i was looking forā he spoke softly, biting your bottom lip gently afterwards. as your orgasm nears, you notice the sudden feeling of needing to pee. panic settles in and you try pushing your boyfriend away from you. āc-chan, please stop. i f-feel like iām g-gonna peeā your voice laced with embarrassment as you try to get him off of you. chanās eyes light up at your sudden announcement, āthatās it, baby. thatās the sign youāre almost there. youāre gonna squirt. start pushing, push for meā he encourages while placing his hand on your lower abdomen and starts pushing down slightly. he makes sure to keep the same pace and intensity, not wanting to ruin this amazing experience for you.
after a few more thrust, a gush of liquid came out of you. drenching chanās abdomen and the sheets below you. you let out a pained moan as you squirted, the sensation being too good for your own sake. āfuck, yeah. just like that, keep it coming. i know you got some more in you. fuckā¦ such a sight to seeā chan rambles on as you finish squirting, unable to peel his eyes away fromyour sopping pussy. he then came unexpectedly, too lost on the beautiful view in front of him to notice he was close. he growled as he emptied himself inside your warm cunt, burying his face between your gorgeous tits. āi love you so much, my pretty girl. i knew you could do itā he whispers, panting against your skin. you giggle at his words, panting along with him as well. āi love you too, channie. thank you for proving me wrongā you whisper back. your hands soon find their way to his hair, raking your fingers through his locks, trying your best to help calm him down. his hands find your waist, fingers caressing the soft skin, imitating your actions, trying to call you down as well. āletās do that again, yeah?ā he suggests, still out of breath making you laugh at his eagerness.
Summary ā A quiet night after putting your three-month-old daughter to sleep turns electric when Chan's praise unlocks a primal wave of pent-up desire, leading to a breathless, interrupted, and ultimately explosive encounter under the stars.
The house was finally quiet. The kind of deep, humming silence that felt earned, a precious commodity wrestled from a day filled with gummy smiles, milky burps, and the soft, hiccuping cries of a tiny human who owned you completely. Auroraāthree perfect months old, with his eyes and your smileāwas finally asleep in her crib, a peaceful angel under the mobile of stars.
You stood in the doorway of the nursery for a long moment, just watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Then, with a final, loving look, you stepped back, pulling the door until it was just a crack open.
The long white silk robe hung open around you like a ghost, untied. Beneath it, you wore only a simple black tank top with thin strapsāno bra, because your body was yours again, and you were reveling in the feeling of soft cotton against sensitive skināand a pair of loose black sleep shorts that rode high on your thighs. You padded barefoot across the cool hardwood, the baby monitor clutched in your hand like a talisman.
You feltā¦ like yourself. Not just a vessel, not just a source of sustenance and comfort, but a woman. Your body, though changed, was familiar territory againāstronger in some places, softer in others, a living map of the miracle youād created. And Chrisā¦ Chris had never stopped making you feel like a goddess. His hands, his lips, his whispered words had traced every new curve and line with reverence, reminding you daily that you were more beautiful to him now than ever before.
But latelyā¦ there was a new word in his arsenal. A single syllable that detonated low in your belly every time he used it in that tone.
Mama.
It wasn't just a title anymore. On his lips, in the dark, it was an incantation. Filthy. Worshipful. Possessive. And it did things to you.
You found him outside on the expansive patio, lit by the soft glow of underwater pool lights and a sliver of moon. He was sprawled in one of the long, cushioned lounge chairs, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, the screen of his phone casting a blue glow on the sharp planes of his face. The former idol, the CEO, now just a man decompressing after a long day, the quiet lap of the pool water the only sound.
You walked out, the night air warm and sweet with jasmine. You set the baby monitor gently on the glass table beside his chair. Then you sat down on the edge of the lounger directly across from him, tucking one leg beneath you.
He looked up, his thumb swiping his phone dark. His gaze was a physical touch, dragging slowly up your bare legs, lingering on the shadowed dip of your shorts, rising over the way the thin black tank top clung to the full curves of your breasts, clearly braless, the peaks of your nipples visible against the fabric. It traveled over the open robe framing you like wings, then finally met your eyes.
āSheās asleep,ā you said, your voice a low murmur in the quiet night.
For a long moment, he didn't speak. He just looked, his Adam's apple bobbing in a hard swallow. Heat, palpable and thick, seemed to radiate from him.
Then, his voice came out rough, strained. āYou lookā¦ dangerous tonight.ā
A smirk tugged at your lips. You leaned back on your hands, arching your spine just a little. āItās just a tank top and shorts, Chris.ā
āNah,ā he said, sitting up slowly, bracing his forearms on his knees. The movement made the muscles in his abdomen flex. āItās the fact that youāre walking around out here like that. Braless. Barefoot. Robe open like youāre inviting the night in. Like you donāt know what it does to me.ā
A flush warmed your skin, but you held his gaze, emboldened by the hunger in his eyes. āWhat does it do to you, baby?ā
His hand shot out, fingers hooking into the hem of your shorts, giving a gentle, possessive tug. āMakes me wanna fuck the mother of my child until she forgets how to say anything except āmama.āā
Fuck.
The word was a lightning strike straight to your core. Your breath hitched, your thighs pressing together instinctively. Mama. He said it like a threat and a promise all at once, rough and reverent, and it unraveled you completely.
You didn't hesitate. You rose and moved to him, straddling his lap in one fluid motion, settling your weight onto him. The heat of you, through the thin shorts and his linen pants, met the hard, unmistakable ridge of his erection. You ground down slowly, deliberately.
He hissed, his hands flying to your hips to steady youāor maybe to hold you in place. āShit. No panties either?ā
You smiled down at him, all innocence and sin. āJust because.ā
A groan ripped from his throat. His hands slid down to grip your ass through the shorts, kneading firmly. Your robe slid off your shoulders, pooling around you on the chair. He didn't waste time. His mouth found your chest, kissing the swell of your breast through the dampening fabric of the tank top, then tugging the neckline down with his teeth. He laved his tongue over the exposed curve before closing his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply.
A sharp, quiet gasp escaped you. Your head fell back, your fingers tangling in his hair. The baby monitor on the table beside you glowed with a steady green light, a silent witness.
He pulled back, breathing harshly against your wet skin. āYou gave me a daughter,ā he whispered, voice wrecked with awe and desire. āYou built a whole person inside this body. And youāre still out here trying to kill me with it, huh?ā
You rocked your hips against him again, a slow, teasing grind that made him curse softly. āTold you Iād bounce back.ā
His eyes, when they met yours, were black pools of hunger, love, and something fiercerāa primal obsession that three months of careful, gentle love-making had only banked, not extinguished. He cupped your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.
āYou didn't bounce back, mama,ā he breathed, the word a hot brand against your lips. āYou leveled up.ā
Then his mouth was on yours, kissing you with a consuming passion that spoke of months of pent-up want. It was messy and deep, all tongue and teeth and shared breath. He stood suddenly, lifting you with him as if you weighed nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you the few steps to the wide, plush outdoor sofa that faced the pool and the star-dusted sky.
He laid you down on the deep, plush cushions of the outdoor sofa, the fabric cool against your back. The night sky sprawled above, an endless velvet blanket pierced by indifferent stars. His hands weren't gentle now; they were claiming. He pushed your tank top up in one rough motion, baring your breasts to the warm, damp air. The thin straps dug into your shoulders.
He didn't kneel with reverence. He shoved your thighs apart with his knees dragging you shorts down your and threw them on the ground and dove between them like a man starved.
His mouth on your cunt was filthy, loud, and wet. No slow worship, just a hungry, open-mouthed devouring. He licked into you with broad, flat strokes, his nose buried against you, his groans vibrating against your clit. You cried out, your hands fisting in his hair, not to guide but to anchor yourself against the brutal, wonderful assault.
"Yeah, fucking taste that," he grunted, pulling back for a second, his lips and chin shining in the low light. "All for me. This sweet pussy, made my daughter, and it's still so fucking perfect." He dove back in, sucking your clit hard between his lips, his tongue flicking rapidly.
It was too much, too fast, and overwhelmingly good. Your orgasm ripped through you without ceremony, a sharp, clenching wave that made you sob his name into the night. He didn't gentle you through it; he fucked you through it with his tongue, drinking down every pulse until you were shaking and oversensitive, pushing weakly at his head.
He came up, breathing hard, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were black, wild. "That's one," he panted. "Now for the main event."
He didn't bother undressing fully. He just shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, his cock springing free, thick and angrily red. He grabbed your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the couch cushions. He didn't ask. He lined up and slammed into you in one brutal, deep thrust.
The air left your lungs in a punched-out gasp. He was so deep, so hard, stretching you gloriously.
"Fuck, yes," he growled, his hands pinning your hips down. "Take it. Take all of it, mama. This cunt was made for my cock. Made my baby, now it's gonna milk me dry."
His pace was punishing from the start. Deep, rough, driving strokes that shook the entire sofa, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin echoing against the water. He leaned over you, one hand braced by your head, the other gripping your thigh, hiking it higher over his hip to plunge even deeper.
"Look at you," he rasped, his breath hot on your face. "Tits out, getting fucked stupid under the stars. My wife. The mother of my fucking child. And you're still the hottest thing I've ever seen."
His dirty talk was a continuous, gritty stream, painting a vivid, possessive picture. "You feel that? You feel how deep I own you? This is my pussy. Always has been. Now it's a fucking masterpiece." He shifted, angling his hips, and the next thrust nailed a spot that made you see white. "There. Right there. That's where I put my daughter. And now it's where I'm gonna put my cum."
You were a mess of pleading sounds, your nails scratching down his back, your legs trembling around him. The pleasure was a coiled, white-hot wire in your gut, pulled tighter with every filthy word and deep stroke.
He felt you clenching around him, your cries getting higher, more desperate. "You gonna come? You gonna come on this cock, mama? Do it. Soak me. Let me feel that tight little cunt squeeze me."
You were right there. The coil was at its breaking point, the world narrowing to the feel of him pounding into that perfect, deep spot, the sound of his ragged voice, the scent of sex and night jasmine.
"Wahā¦!"
A soft, thin wail, amplified by the monitor on the table beside you, sliced through the heavy air.
Both of you froze.
Chris was buried to the hilt, his body coiled like a spring. The cry came again, a little more awake, a little more distressed.
No. The thought was pure, primal denial. You were so close.
A tortured, guttural sound was ripped from Chris's throat. He didn't pull out. He dropped his forehead to your shoulder, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding still. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," he groaned, the words muffled against your skin.
The sensation was maddening. You were achingly full of him, your orgasm hovering just out of reach, a phantom limb of pleasure. Every tiny, instinctive clench of your body around his still-hard cock was pure agony.
He lifted his head, his expression a hilarious, devastating mix of utter frustration and profound love. He looked from your desperate face to the blinking monitor, then back to you.
With a final, sorrowful thrust, he slowly pulled out. The loss was physical pain. He collapsed onto the couch beside you, both of you breathing like youād run a marathon, the interrupted energy buzzing in the space between you.
Another, more insistent cry came through the monitor.
Chris let out a long-suffering sigh that seemed to come from his soul. He reached over, his hand finding your inner thigh, giving it a rough, apologetic squeeze. "I swear to God, she has a sixth sense for this," he muttered, his voice gravelly with unmet need.
He sat up, pulling his pants back up with a wince. You stayed layed down on the sofa.
He stood, grabbed the monitor, and listened for a second. Then he looked down at you, your hair wild, lips swollen, the evidence of his mouth and his possession glistening on your inner thighs. His eyes darkened again, a promise gleaming in their depths.
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a searing, possessive kiss. "This isn't over," he whispered against your lips, his voice a low, serious vow. "I'm gonna put her back down, and then I'm coming back out here, and I'm going to fuck you through that couch. Don't.move."
He pressed one last, hard kiss to your mouth, then turned and strode back into the house, towards the cries of his daughter, the CEO and the daddy seamlessly taking over from the feral, hungry man who had just been claiming his wife under the stars.
You sank back into the cushions, aching, throbbing, and smiling up at the uncaring sky.
the night air cooling the sweat on your skin. The ache between your thighs was a persistent, throbbing echo of what had been so brutally interrupted. You could still feel the ghost of him inside you, the stretch, the perfect, deep friction. Your body hummed with unfinished energy, a live wire waiting to be grounded.
From the baby monitor on the table, you heard it all.
The soft shush of his footsteps down the hall. The gentle creak of Auroraās nursery door. Then, his voice, low and honey-sweet, a complete tonal shift from the guttural growls heād been breathing into your neck just minutes before.
āHey, my little star. Whatās all this fuss about? Hmm?ā A soft rustleālikely him picking her up. A tiny, hiccuping cry that slowly calmed to a gurgle. āYou just wanted to see your Daddy, didnāt you? Missed me that much?ā
You smiled into the darkness, your heart swelling even as your body ached.
Then, his voice dropped even lower, to a conspiratorial whisper you could barely catch. āYou know, youāve got your Daddyās timing down perfect, little one. A real professionalā¦ cockblocker.ā
You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sudden, helpless laugh. He said it with such affectionate exasperation, such pure, joking warmth, that it was impossible to be annoyed.
You heard the soft, rhythmic sounds of him rocking her. A gentle humāa tune from one of her mobiles. The fussing died down completely, replaced by the soft, even sounds of her breathing returning to sleep. He was a maestro, even with this.
A few more minutes of quiet. The soft thump of her being laid back in the crib. The faint musical chime of the mobile being wound. His whispered, āSleep tight, my Aurora. Dream big.ā
Then, his footsteps again, purposeful now, coming back down the hall. Not hurried, but with a definite, heavy intent. The patio door slid open.
He stepped back out into the night.
Heād lost the shirt completely. It was just him, in his low-slung linen pants, his torso a sculpture of lean muscle painted in moonlight and shadow. His hair was slightly messier than before. His eyes found you immediately, and the look in them had shifted. The frustrated urgency was still there, but it had been refined by those few minutes of fatherly tenderness. It was sharper now. More focused. A hunter returning to his quarry, having calmly secured the perimeter.
He didnāt speak. He just walked toward the sofa, his gaze locked on you. He picked up the baby monitor from the table, looked at the steady green light, and then, with a deliberate motion, turned the volume all the way down. He set it back on the table. The silent, blinking light was the only concession to the outside world.
āWhere were we?ā he asked, his voice a dark, quiet rumble.
He came to the edge of the sofa. His hands were warm as they closed around your ankles, pulling you smoothly down the cushions until you were lying flat again.
āI believe,ā he said, kneeling on the cushions and spreading your thighs with an undeniable authority, āI was about to make you come so hard youād forget your own name.ā
He didnāt go down on you again. Heād had his taste. Now he wanted the whole meal. He shoved his own pants down just enough, his cock springing back to full, impressive hardness. He was already leaking, the head glistening.
He didn't tease. He gripped his length, stroked himself once, smearing the pre-cum, and then notched himself at your entrance. His eyes held yours, a challenge and a promise.
āThis time,ā he said, his voice low and deadly serious, āwe donāt stop for anything less than an earthquake. Understood, mama?ā
You could only nod, your breath coming in short pants.
He thrust home.
It was even deeper than before, as if the brief separation had only increased his desperate need to be sheathed inside you. A shared groan tore from both of you. He set a pace immediatelyānot the frantic, driving rhythm from before, but a deep, relentless, purposeful pounding. Each stroke was a claim, a reassertion. His hands pinned your hips down, holding you still for his onslaught.
āYou heard me, didnāt you?ā he grunted, his hips pistoning. āCalling our daughter a cockblocker.ā
āYes,ā you gasped, the word breaking on a particularly deep thrust.
He leaned down, his mouth hovering over yours. āShe is. And sheās perfect. And I love her more than anything.ā He kissed you, hard and possessive. āBut right now,ā he breathed against your lips, āher motherās pussy belongs to me. And Iām taking whatās mine.ā
His words, the contrast between the sweet daddy and the demanding, filthy husband, shattered the last of your control. The coil, never fully unwound, pulled taut and snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you, a tidal wave of release that had been waiting, building through the interruption. You cried out, a raw, unfiltered sound, as your body convulsed around him, milking his cock in pulsing waves.
The feeling of your tight, fluttering heat squeezing him ripped his own control away. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and roared his release, his body shuddering as he emptied himself deep inside you, his forehead dropping to your collarbone.
The world was reduced to the heavy, shared weight of your breaths, the slick heat where you were still joined, and the cool night air drying the sweat on your tangled bodies the only sounds were the water in the pool, the distant cicadas, and your ragged, mingled breaths.. He lay on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, He was heavy on top of you, a welcome, spent weight, his heart hammering against yours in a slowing, post-storm rhythm.
For a few stolen minutes, there was only this: the profound, physical peace of connection, the silent triumph of having weathered the interruption together. The baby monitor glowed, a silent sentinel of the other, sweeter love that waited inside.
Then, his hands, which had been splayed possessively on your back, shifted. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, not to move you yet, but to announce an intention. A low, anticipatory hum vibrated in his chest against yours.
He lifted his head just enough to look at you. His eyes were still dark with spent passion, but a new, simmering intent was gathering in their depths.
āCanāt stay like this forever, mama,ā he murmured, his voice rough as gravel. āToo comfortable. Gotta ruin it.ā
Before you could even form a question, his grip on your hips tightened. āTurn over,ā he said, the words a soft, undeniable command.
He helped you, his hands guiding, turning you with a practiced ease that spoke of a deep, intimate knowledge of your body. You went onto your stomach, the plush cushions of the outdoor sofa soft beneath you. He arranged you, his touch firm, positioning you on your knees, your ass in the air, your upper body supported by the sofaās wide arm. The night air kissed the newly exposed skin of your back, your ass, the backs of your thighs.
He knelt behind you, and you heard the soft, wet sound of him stroking himself, already hard again. His hands smoothed over the curves of your ass, squeezing, spreading you open. He leaned over your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
āThis view,ā he growled, the appreciation thick in his voice. āFuck. My favorite view in the world. The view that gave me my daughter.ā One hand slid around your hip, his fingers finding the soaked, sensitive flesh of your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. You gasped, pushing back against his hand. āAnd now itās gonna take every last drop of me.ā
He removed his hand, lined himself up, and pushed inside without another word.
The angle was different. Deeper, somehow more invasive. He filled you completely, a stretching, claiming pressure that stole your breath. He didn't start slow. He set a hard, driving pace from the first stroke, each thrust jolting you forward, a deep, rhythmic thud of flesh meeting flesh that was louder, more primal, in this position.
His hands gripped your hips like vices, holding you in place for his relentless use. The filth started again, lower, darker, breathed into the space between your shoulder blades.
āYeah, take it,ā he grunted, his voice strained with effort. āTake it all, just like this. This is how I put my baby in you. Deep. Justā¦ likeā¦ this.ā
Each punctuated word was matched with a sharper, deeper thrust. One of his hands left your hip and fisted in the hair at the nape of your neck, not pulling, just holding, establishing total dominance. You were completely open to him, utterly vulnerable, and the surrender was its own kind of powerful drug.
āYouāre gonna come again,ā he demanded, his breath hot on your skin. āYouāre gonna come on my cock in this position and remember exactly how our daughter was made. You feel me? You feel how deep I am? Thatās where she came from. Thatās my fucking ground zero.ā
His words, the brutal, beautiful truth of them, combined with the perfect, punishing angle of his thrusts, coiled the tension in your belly impossibly tight. You were babbling, pleading, pushing back against him to meet every drive.
He felt you tightening, your cries reaching a fever pitch. āNow, mama,ā he snarled, his pace becoming frantic, losing its rhythm, driven purely by need. āCome for me. Let me feel it.ā
The climax tore through you, a cataclysmic unraveling that felt like it originated in the very core he was hammering. It was less a wave and more a seismic event, shaking a broken scream from your throat as you clenched around him violently.
It triggered his own end. With a final, shuddering roar, he slammed into you one last time, his body locking as he pulsed deep inside, his grip on your hair and hip almost painful in its intensity as he rode out his own crashing release.
He collapsed over your back, his weight pressing you into the cushions, both of you spent, breathing in ragged, syncopated gasps. He nuzzled weakly into your neck, placing a soft, damp kiss there.
The aftershocks were still humming through your veins, a pleasant, bone-deep vibration. You lay there, a boneless, satisfied heap beneath him, the reality of your physical state slowly dawning.
āCanāt walk,ā you whispered into the cushion, the words slurred with exhaustion and a weak, triumphant smile.
He kissed your jaw, still buried inside you, softening but present. āGood,ā he murmured, his voice a low, sated rumble against your skin. āYou wonāt need to.ā
A flicker of maternal duty sparked through the haze. āBut Auroraāā
He shushed you gently, finally pulling out with a slow, careful glide that made you whimper at the sensitivity. You felt the warm trickle of his release escaping you. He watched it for a second, a possessive, satisfied glint in his eye, before his gaze softened back to pure care.
āIāll take care of her, angel,ā he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He brushed your sweat-damp hair from your forehead. āYou take care of me. I take care of you. Thatās the deal.ā
True to his word, he took care of everything. He helped you sit up, your legs trembling violently, utterly refusing to bear weight. With a soft chuckle, he simply scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his bare chest. He carried you through the quiet house, your head lolling against his shoulder, and laid you gently in the center of your shared bed.
āStay,ā he whispered, as if you could move.
He disappeared into the bathroom. You heard the faucet run, and he returned with a soft cloth dampened with warm water. He knelt beside the bed and began to clean you with a tenderness that was a stark, beautiful contrast to the animalistic possession of minutes before. He was extra gentle, wiping away the evidence of your coupling, careful around the oversensitive, well-loved flesh. Every stroke was an apology and a reaffirmation.
When he was done, he dressed you with the same focused care. He pulled a pair of his own soft, clean cotton boxers up your shaky legs, the material swallowing your hips. Then he fetched one of his oversized, worn-soft sweaters and carefully pulled it over your head, guiding your arms through the sleeves. āGetting cold,ā he murmured, tucking the fabric around you.
As if on cue, the soft, hungry cries began from the nursery.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. āRight on time.ā He left and returned moments later with a sleepy, rooting Aurora in his arms. He placed her carefully in your arms, helping you position her at your breast. She latched on with a happy little sigh, her tiny fists kneading the soft sweater.
Chris left again. You heard the quiet sounds from the kitchenāthe fridge opening, a knife on a cutting board. He returned shirtless, carrying two bowls. One was a small mosaic of perfectly cut fruit: chilled strawberries, sweet mango, plump grapes. The other held crushed ice water with a slender straw.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you nurse his daughter. He leaned over, pressed a lingering kiss to your bare shoulder where the sweater had slipped, then looked down at the baby suckling contentedly.
āYou good now, cockblocker?ā he whispered, his voice soft and thick with amused affection.
You smacked his chest weakly, the motion barely a tap. āYou canāt call her that.ā
He just smirked, unrepentant. He picked up a perfect strawberry and brought it to your lips. āOpen.ā
You obeyed, and the burst of cool, sweet flavor was heaven. He watched you chew with a look of proud, reverent satisfactionāas if this moment, feeding you fruit after fucking you senseless while you nourished his child, was the pinnacle of his existence.
(And honestly? It was.)
Another strawberry. Then a grape. Then a slice of mango, sweet and tropical. You licked a stray drop of juice from your lip, and he caught it gently with his thumb, then brought that thumb to his own mouth, his dark eyes holding yours the entire time.
āStill canāt walk?ā he asked, his voice a low, smug rumble.
You gave him a look that held all the exhaustion and satisfaction in the world. āYou know damn well I canāt even stand.ā
A low, warm laugh escaped him. He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear. āGood.ā
Aurora nestled against your chest, sucking peacefully, utterly oblivious to the storm sheād briefly interrupted and then slept soundly through.
Your legs? Jelly.āØYour thighs? Still twitching faintly.āØYour pussy? Gloriously, lovingly wrecked.
warnings: unprotected sex; switch!chan; dirty talk; masturbation; fingering; handjob; oral sex (f! and m!receiving); face fucking; cock warming; overstimulation; edging; begging; cum play; voyeurism; exhibitionism
summary: chan likes two things a little too much: the pretty barista who always smiles at him when he sees him and a mysterious camgirl who keeps him awake at night. thatās bound to end well
live: unfiltered series
there are producers and songwriters who make hits and then, there is bang chan.
at only twenty-eight, he has somehow become one of the most sought-after producers in the country. inside the company he works in, his name carries an almost ridiculous amount of respect, and outside of it, artists from every major label fight for the chance to work with him, hoping his touch will turn a good song into a great one.
his schedule is packed months in advance, his email never empty, his phone constantly buzzing with texts from managers, artists, other songwriters and producers and friends asking for ājust one more sessionā. and somehow, despite all of it, he never seems overwhelmed, if anything, he thrives on it.
chan loves people. he loves hearing new stories, bouncing ideas off strangers, learning things about someone and bringing them up weeks later. whether it is a rookie trainee nervously introducing themselves or a veteran artist stopping by his studio to complain about something, chan greets everyone with the same warm smile and easy laugh.Ā
he is the type of person who makes everyone else feel important, which is probably why everyone adores him. no matter how busy he is, and he is always busy, chan always finds time for people.
he has his own studio in the company, a little room on the fourth floor that has practically become his second home. half-finished lyric sheets cover every available surface and coffee cups decorate his desk like trophies. his keyboard is worn smooth from years of use and the speakers have blasted everything from orchestral demos to experimental hip-hop until two in the morning more times than he could count.
officially, itās because he desperately needs caffeine after spending hours buried in music. unofficially, wellā¦ the caffeine is only part of the reason why.
chan had started going there almost a year ago and at first, it really had just been for the coffee but then, he had met you. now it has become the one part of his day he looks forward to more than anything else.
it isnāt subtle, at least not to anyone paying attention. his coworkers had noticed how he always volunteered to āmake a trip downstairsā whenever they all wanted something. your coworkers had noticed how heād linger at the counter just a little longer than necessary, managing to stretch a thirty-second transaction into a five-minute conversation, just so he could be there with you.
when chan leaves his studio, ready to go home, a couple of trainees hurry towards the lift with their bags slung over their shoulders, looking just as exhausted as he feels. he also sees a security guard who offers him a nod when he sees him.
ācalling it a night?ā, he asks chan.
he smiles, ātrying toā
the guard laughs, āiāll believe it when i stop seeing your studio light every single nightā
chan feels the corners of his mouth lift automatically because it doesnāt matter how exhausted he is, seeing you erases almost all of it. you turn around and find him there, staring at you. your face brightens into a smile that looks so effortless it makes his stomach flip every single time.Ā
āthere he isā, you say.
chan walks over, resting one arm against the counter.
āi was wondering when you were gonna come todayā, you tell him.
āwell, seeing that i practically lived hereā¦ you could have come to see me beforeā
you tilt your head, pretending to think, āi guess soā¦ā, you laugh then, which makes him laugh too, āsoā¦ the usual?ā
āthe usualā, he says as he nods his head.
āone large americano with one extra shot, no sugar, andā¦ā
chan points at you, āvery, very hotā
you roll your eyes with a smile before turning towards the machine.
āone lava americano coming right upā, you say.
chan watches you move around behind the counter with ease - you work quickly, but never look rushed. every movement is smooth, from grinding the beans to steaming the water and sealing the cup. then you walk back over and slide it across the counter towards him.
āextra hotā, you say as he grabs the cup.
the two words are delivered with the exact same tone every night. it had become an inside joke months ago and you said it every single time, without fail.
chan looks down at the cup before looking back at you, āyouāll never let that go, will you?ā
āneverā, you say as you shake your head.
āone day iāll order it iced just to shock youā
you pretend to gasp, āiāll refuse to serve itā
he laughs, āi donāt think you can do thatā
āi donāt care, itād be worth itā
he laughs again, shaking his head as he wraps both of his hands around the cup which is really hot, exactly how he likes it.
āsoā, you ask him after a moment, ābig project today?ā
āhow did you know?ā
āyou have the, i donāt knowā¦ āthis that new popā kind of faceā
he snorts, āwhat? y/n what does that even mean?ā
you laugh too, āi donāt know, but iām sure you made a banger todayā
he laughs again and then takes a careful sip of the coffee before signing happily.
āokay, you really werenāt kiddingā, he says.
āwhat?ā, you say.
āit is extra hotā
you cross your arms over your chest, āyou asked for very, very hotā
āi know, but i think this could be considered plasmaā, he teases you.
āyouāll survive, iād hate to lose my favourite fanā, the words slip out before you can stop them and you try to take them back, but you canāt, āi mean of my coffee, fan of my coffee, because you like it and um-ā
chanās grin spreads slowly across his face, āoh?ā
you close your eyes and groan, ādonātā
āiām your favourite?ā
āi didnāt say thatā
āyou literally didā
āi didnāt mean thatā, you say, hiding your face behind your hands now.
āiāll remember this day foreverā, he says, placing one of his hands on his chest.
you shake your head, laughing despite yourself, āugh, youāre impossibleā, and then lower your hands so you can look at him again.Ā
āi should probably let you finish closingā, he says.
āyeah, you probably shouldā, you say but neither of you moves.
he smiles at you again, āwellā¦ā
āwellā¦ā
āthis is usually where i say goodnightā, he says.
āyeah, and i tell you not to work too late at homeā
āand then i promise you i wonātā
āand then i pretend i believe youā, you say as you smile knowingly.
he chuckles before taking a small step backwards, āgoodnight, y/nā
āgoodnight, chrisā
he turns towards the exit, makes it about eight steps and then stops. his heart is pounding so loudly he is convinced you can hear it from behind the counter.Ā
heād spent weeks telling himself heād ask you on a date and every single night heād walked away thinking āiāll do it tomorrowā. tomorrow became next week, and next week became next month.
if he doesnāt ask you now, he probably never will, so before he can overthink it, he turns around.
āheyā
you look up immediately, āwhat?ā
he walks back towards the counter, rubbing the back of his neck.
āsoā¦ā, he says, and the confidence that everyone else always sees has completely disappeared, āif this is weird, you can absolutely say noā
your eyebrows lift slightly, āokayā¦ā
āi was wonderingā¦ā, he says and then he laughs nervously, āshit, this is much harder than i thought itād beā
ācome on, you can do itā, you say, smiling at him.
the encouragement makes him smile too, āi was wondering ifā¦ā, he takes a breath, āif youād maybe want to have dinner with me sometimeā
the grin that spreads across his face is impossible to hide, āso thatāsā¦ā
āa yesā, you say.
āa yesā, he says as he laughs, almost in disbelief, āi was fully prepared for you to tell me you werenāt interestedā
āoh, iām definitely interestedā, you say, giggling, and he swears that sound alone could make even the worst day worth enduring.
he looks down for a second, smiling to himself, āwow, okay, i- ummā¦ā, he starts, trying to sound casual even though he is certain he is glowing, āyou work tomorrow, right?ā
āi doā
āthe evening shift?ā
you give him a curious look, āyeahā
he smiles sheepishly, āi already knew that, i mightāveā¦ accidentally memorised your scheduleā
you stare at him for a second, āaccidentally? iām gonna say thatās either really sweet or slightly concerningā
āi choose sweetā
you laugh at his answer, āyeah, i figured you wouldā
āokay, soā¦ iāll wait for you after your shiftā
āyou donāt have to do that, chrisā
āi want toā, he says, smiling at you.
you canāt help but reciprocate, āokay, so itās a date thenā
his heart nearly stops, āitās a date, yeahā
the words echo in his head like the catchiest chorus heās ever written. you both stand there smiling at each other for another moment before you finally break the silence.
āyou should go home and sleep, chrisā
āiāll think about itā, he says.
you laugh, āokay, see you tomorrow, chrisā
he waves his hand, a little goodbye just for you, āsee you tomorrow, y/nā
this time, when he walks towards the door, he doesnāt turn around, he doesnāt need to. he pushes through the glass entrance with the biggest smile heās worn in months and his mind already racing ahead to tomorrow evening.
for once, he canāt wait for the next day to begin.
the front door clicks shut behind chan as he enters his apartment, the sound echoing like a signal that the day is finally over. he drops his bag by the entrance, his shoulders rolling back as he exhales a long, tired breath. he kicks off his shoes and pads straight towards the bathroom, already taking off his clothes and tossing them aside before he steps inside the shower.
water cascades over his broad chest and down the ridges of his abs, washing away the tension in his muscles. he washes his body starting with his arms and stomach, and then he moves lower, where his cock hangs heavy between his thighs. he gives a few lazy strokes to clean himself and before they turn into something more, he stops himself with a quiet chuckle.
not yet, he has plans for later.
once heās done, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist before heading to the kitchen. he prepares something easy and fast and then he eats standing at the counter, his mind already drifting towards what is coming next. dinner done, he cleans the plate and makes his way to his bedroom, grabbing his phone and closing the door behind him.
chan lets the towel drop and then stretches out on his bed, completely naked and relaxed. this is his ritual now, the one thing that helps him unwind completely. he opens the familiar page and scrolls past the endless thumbnails until his eyes land on the one profile that always stops him cold. months ago heād clicked on her livestream by accident and nothing had been the same since. something about her pulls him in every single time. he has never seen her face, never heard her voice, but her body moves like it is made for his eyes alone. the way she touches herself, the way she seems to know exactly how to drive her viewers insane without saying a wordā¦ itās hypnotic.Ā
he is about to pull up one of her older livestreams when a notification pops up on the screen and his pulse kicks harder.Ā
angelofyourdreams is live.
she is streaming right this second.
chan taps in immediately, his screen filling with her familiar setup and the chat already exploding with comments and donations. she is there in the centre of the frame, wearing nothing but a lingerie set that barely covers anything, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide her hard nipples pressing against it, dark and tempting through the material. between her spread thighs the lace is visibly soaked, clinging to the outline of her pussy lips, a dark wet patch growing as she shifts.
her hands move slowly, tracing over her own skin. her fingers slide up her stomach, cup her breasts and then punch her nipples through the lace. she rubs herself over her panties next, pressing two fingers against her clit and the wet spot spreads wider.
leethighs: fuck iām stroking so hard for you right now
dirtypup: my cock is throbbing just watching you
quokkjone: wish i could bury my tongue in that pussy
chan canāt help but comment too.
midnightwolf: iād fuck you so deep youād forget your own name
his hand wraps around his cock then. heās already half-hard just from watching her and the first firm stroke makes him groan low in his throat. he grips the base tight, his thumb swiping over the tip to spread the precum that had gathered there. on screen, he sees the girl taking her bra off and then hooking her thumbs into the waistband of the lace and peeling it down her legs until sheās completely naked.
her cunt is glistening, the lips swollen and shiny with her arousal, her clit peeking out from its hood. she spreads her thighs wider for the camera and lets her fingers slide through her folds, gathering her juices before circling her entrance. she pushes two fingers inside and then rolls her hips to meet them. chan matches the her rhythm, stroking himself as he watches her fuck herself on her own hand, adding another finger as her other hand stays on her clit, making her thighs tremble.Ā
aussielord: iām coming already fuck
maknaeontop: your pussy looks so tight and perfect
artprince69: wish those were my fingers insteadĀ
strongspear: iād fill you up so much itād leak out for days princess
chanās breathing grows ragged and his hand moves faster, squeezing harder now. he can feel the heat building low in his gut, his balls tightening as he watches her fingers disappear inside her dripping cunt again and again. she arches off the bed, her body shaking, and he knows sheās close, and he is right there with her.
his stokes turn desperate, his hips lifting off the mattress to fuck into his own hand and then, the pressure snaps all at once. thick ropes of cum shoot across his stomach and chest while on screen the girl comes hard around her fingers, her thighs clamping together as her whole body shakes.
once her orgasm ends, she pulls her fingers out of her and then reaches out to end the livestream, the screen going dark. chan lies back against the pillows, his chest heaving and his cum cooling on his skin. a deep sigh leaves him, his body now loose and the tension from work completely gone.
he had been distracted the entire day, not because of work, he always got that part done. he had been thinking about you and your date all day, and everyone working with him could see his mind was somewhere else that day.Ā
as he gets closer to the counter, he sees that you arenāt behind the counter. instead, thereās another barista cleaning up the espresso machine. she looks up the moment she hears chan coming in, her expression turning into a knowing grin.
āwell, look who it isā, she says.
chan laughs softly, āhiā
āyouāre not coming for the coffee today, arenāt you?ā
ānot today, noā
she leans both elbows on the counter, āsoā¦ you finally asked her out, huh?ā
he rubs the back of his neck, āi did, yeahā
she nods her head and then points towards the hallway leading to the staff room, āsheās in the back changingā
chan smiles at her, āthatās okay, no rushā
āyou look nervousā
chan looks away, āi am nervousā
she reaches beneath the counter and sets a glass of water in front of him, āhere, for the nervesā
āthank youā, he says as he takes the glass.
a comfortable silence settles between them for a moment before she speaks again.
āiām glad you finally asked her outā
chan looks up, āyou are?ā
she smiles warmly, āsheās really looking forward to seeing youā
his heart skips, āreally?ā
she shrugs innocently, āyesā¦ but i didnāt tell you anything, itās our secretā
chan smiles at you, āyou donāt have to apologiseā
āi made you waitā
āi wouldāve waited longerā
the words come out before he can stop them and you smile, looking down for just a second.
āyouāre sweetā, you tell him.
he scratches the back of his neck and laughs as he looks down, āi tryā
your coworker watches the exchange with an expression that screams āfinallyā and then she claps her hands together.
āokayā, she says and you both turn to look at her, āiām just gonna stand here and pretend that i donāt existā
chan and you laugh and then he turns to look at you, āready?ā
you look at him and nod your head, āreadyā
you both walk towards the door and he opens it for you, but before you can step out, your coworkerās voice calls after you.
āno show today, angel?ā
you stop halfway through the door and look back over your shoulder, a small laugh escaping you.
āno show today, noā
she laughs and waves you both goodbye, āenjoy your night!ā
āwe willā, you say and then you both leave.
chan looks at you for a brief second.
angel?
thatās an unusual nickname, maybe itās something your coworkers had come up with. it fits, he supposes.Ā
āiām sorryā, he hears you say suddenly.
āfor what?ā, he looks at you.
āsheās nosyā
he laughs then, āitās fine, donāt worryā
he opens the front door of the building, letting the air drift inside.
ādinner?ā, he asks you.
you smile at him again, ādinnerā
side by side, you step out into the night, completely unaware that the casual nickname chan has just overhead will stay in the back of his mind for longer than either of you could have imagined.
if someone asked chan the next morning how the food was, he honestly wouldnāt be able to answer, and itās not because itās not good, itās because he just isnāt paying nearly as much attention to it as heās paying to you.
the restaurant has turned out to be exactly the kind of place heād hoped youād enjoy. itās modern with warm lighting hanging from the ceiling, wooden tables scattered across the dining area and the music loud enough to create a lively atmosphere but not so loud that people canāt talk.
one half of the floor is dedicated to the restaurant itself and the other is almost like a lounge. thereās a polished wooden bar stretched along one wall while groups of friends laugh over games of billiards, darts, table football, and arcade machines tucked into the corners. glasses clink together every few seconds and every now and then someone cheers loudly after sinking a difficult shot.
it feels relaxed and comfortable, and most importantly, there isnāt a single awkward silence between the two of you, not once.
āyou actually did that?ā, you ask him between laughs.
he laughs too, āi swearā
āyou expect me to believe you accidentally sent the demo to the ceo instead of the artist?ā
āit was one timeā
you burst into laughter, setting your fork down before you drop it and then you hide your face behind your water glass. he smiles into his own drink because, god, this is so much easier than heād imagined it was gonna be.Ā
instead, the hours keep disappearing. youād talked about everything: your childhood memories, favourite movies, your favourite singers, the type of books you like, the movies you see.
now dinner plates have long since disappeared, replaced by two desserts sitting between you. you absentmindedly pick at yours while chan steals part of it.
āhey!ā, you tell him, pretending to be mad at him.
āiām hungryā
āyou ate an entire steak, chrisā
āiām still hungryā
you shake your head, but he can see youāre smiling, āi canāt believe youā
āi will buy you another oneā
āi donāt want another one, i physically canāt eat itā
āiāll help youā
another laugh, another easy smile and another moment where chan finds himself thinking that this is the best day heās had in years.
as you continue eating, your attention drifts for just a moment. most people probably wouldnāt have noticed, but chan did. your eyes wander towards the lounge section of the restaurant, specifically towards the billiards tables. a group of friends has just finished a game, laughing as one of them celebrates what seemed like an impossible shot.
you watch them for a second then quickly look back down at your dessert as though you havenāt been looking at all.
chan smiles to himself, āyou wanna play?ā
your head snaps back up, āwhat?ā
he nods his head towards the billiards table, ābilliardsā
āhow did you-ā
āyouāve looked over there five timesā
āi have notā
āyes, you haveā, he says, laughing softly.
āno, i was justā¦ā, you glance over again almost instinctively, ālookingā
āso you donāt want toā
you laugh a bit, āit looks funā
āthen letās playā
you look back at him, āiāve never actually played beforeā
āso?ā
a tiny smile tugs at your lips, āiā¦ i donāt know how to play, chrisā
he leans forward slightly, āyou trust me?ā
you meet his eyes for just a second, and then nod your head, smiling at him.Ā
āi doā
āthen let me teach youā, he says.
there is something about the way he says it that makes it very difficult to say no.
āokay, fineā, you say.
his smile grows immediately, āperfectā
the waiter appears a few moments later with the bill and before you can even reach it, chan picks it up.
āoh noā, you tell him.
āwhat?ā
āweāre splitting itā
āweāre notā, he says, getting his wallet out to pay.
āchris!ā
āi invited youā
āthat doesnāt matterā, you say as you reach for the bill but he pulls it away, then you reach again and he holds it higher, āchris!ā
āwhat?ā, he says again, laughing now.
you cross your arms, āthis is not fairā
he smiles innocently, āi donāt see the problemā
āthe problem is youāre paying for everythingā
āi donāt see a problem thereā
he hands over his card before you have another opportunity to protest again. once he gets it back, chan thanks the waiter before standing up and offering you his hand.
ācome onā
you look at his outstretched hand for a moment before smiling at him and taking it. his fingers are warm but so are yours and neither of you mentions the fact that neither of you lets go immediately.
most of the billiards tables are occupied by noisy groups but one sits empty beneath a hanging lamp. chan lets go of your hand and moves to pick up two cues from the rack and hand one to you.
āi have absolutely no idea of what iām supposed to doā, you say as you stare at it.
he laughs, āi knowā
āi could hit you with a ballā
āi trust youā, he says as he laughs harder.
you look at the table before you look at the cue in your hands again, āokayā, and a nervous smile spreads across your face.
he steps beside you, already reaching for the triangle rack to set up the balls.
āprofessor bangā, you say.
āmmhm?ā
āplease try not to fail your first and only studentā, you tease him.
he looks over his shoulder with a grin, āi make no promisesā
he finishes arranging the balls into a perfect triangle, then picks up the white ball and places it carefully on the table before he turns to look at you.
āokayā, he says, slipping into the teacher mode, āfirst lessonā
you stand up straighter, āiām listeningā
āyouāre not supposed to hold the cue like youāre about to fight someoneā
you look down at it, āiām holding it wrong?ā
āa littleā
āa little?ā
he smiles, āa lotā
you laugh, āokay, show me how to do itā
chan moves so he can adjust his own cue first and then you move, trying to copy him as best as you can, keyword being trying. you try to copy his hands, where he puts them and how he puts them, one a bit higher and the other on the flat felt, with his fingers a bit open so the cue can slide through.
you keep doing it wrong and he keeps laughing at you, so loud that a couple at the next table glances over with amused smiles. he moves next to you to adjust your grip first, moving your fingers only slightly, then he gestures towards your other hand and you flatten your palm again on the felt.
āokayā, he says, āsee? itās not that hardā
you look down and laugh, āi guess youāre earning your title, professor bangā
he circles the table, studying the angle and then points towards one of the striped balls, āyour goal is that oneā
you follow his finger, āthat seems very far awayā
āyouāve got thisā
you sigh and then lean forward exactly as heād shown you, āthis is harder than it looksā
āit isā, he says laughing.
āso why do people make it seem easy?ā
āyears of practiceā
āgreatā, you say, āokayā¦ like this?ā
āyeah, now justā¦ nice and easyā, he says, his grin widening.
you nod your head, looking at the ball, ānice and easyā
you move the cue forward and the white ball rolls far more gently than either of you expected, nudging the striped ball just enough for it to move towards the pocket before stopping a few inches short.
you look at it, āi almost did it!ā
chan smiles, āthatās the spiritā
you look up at him with a proud grin that makes him laugh all over again.
āi think i like having my own personal teacherā
āoh really? but iām expensiveā, he says, walking towards you now.
āhow expensive?ā
he pretends to think for a moment, āone dessert on our next dateā
you walk closer to him, your chests almost touching, āso youāre already planning a next time?ā
chanās smile grows, āiām hoping thereās gonna be oneā
your own smile answers him before your words ever could, āi think we can arrange thatā
the noisy chatter from the other tables fades into a low hum as the two of you continue playing. the shots keep getting more and more difficult, but chan continues to tell you and show you how youāre supposed to do it each time.
ātry this oneā, he says at one point, stepping in close.
his chest nearly grazes your back as he reaches around to guide your movements. his hands settle over yours on the cue, warm and firm, adjusting your grip. you feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the wood and felt of the table.
you lean forward and he moves right behind you, his body aligning with yours. his palms slide down to your hips to correct your posture, his thumbs pressing lightly into the curveĀ just above your waistband. you shift your weight and the cue slides forward, sending the white ball spinning before hitting the striped ball, which drops into the corner pocket.
āvery goodā, chan breathes against your ear, his approval sending a shiver down your spine.
the game progresses with increasing intimacy. every complicated shot brings him behind you again, his body getting closer to yours each time. his hands cover yours on the felt, guiding the cue with gentle pressure. when you miss a shot, he laughs softly and repositions you, one of his arms wrapping around your middle to steady your balance.Ā
his breath ghosts over your neck as he explains what you have to do, but his touch on your body speaks louder, moving lower and lower each time.
you both know the line youāre toeing and your movements grow bolder in response to his. you press back slightly at one point, your ass brushing the front of his jeans. chan inhales sharply, his grip tightening on your waist for a split second before he forces himself to focus on the game.Ā
he tries to think of anything else but your body is right there, warm and inviting. he moves his hips back just enough to create some space between your bodies, willing his cock not to respond, reciting the rules of the game in his head like a mantra.
another shot lines up and he steps in again, closer than before. his chest presses to your back as he adjusts your arm. you feel the solid line of him, the way his thighs bracket yours. the cue moves, you hear the balls clack, but neither of you tracks the result. his hand moves again, his palm flattening against your hip, pulling you closer to him.
you turn slowly in his hold, your cue still in your hand, your chest brushing with every breath now. the space between you shrinks to nothing. his eyes drop to your lips, dark and hungry, mirroring the way yours fix on his. the air thickens and you can feel his hand on your waist, his thumb stroking once in a daring caress, but before he can close the distance, you speak first.
āwe should play another gameā
chan nods his head, completely lost, his gaze still locked on your mouth as if he hasnāt processed what you just said.
ātake me home, chrisā, you continue, the suggestion hanging between you like a spark waiting to ignite, and at that moment, you both know youāre gonna get burned.
the ride home feels like an eternity, the heat from your earlier touches still lingering on your skin, both of you aware that the game has shifted from cues and balls to something far more primal, and thatās why once you close the door of your apartment behind you, everything detonates.
your lips crash onto his without hesitation, your hands pulling him closer to you. chan groans into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to lift you slightly, pinning you back against the wall. your tongues slide together in a desperate tangle, month of pining after each other exploding in a hungry kiss.Ā
his hands roam your body boldly now, one sliding down to grip your ass and pull you closer, his cock pressing against your thigh through your clothes. you grind forward in response, your fingers threading into his hair to angle the kiss deeper, sucking on his tongue as the tension from the game finally unleashes in full force. your bodies move in sync, your hips rolling and your mouths devouring each other.
ābedroomā, he says between kisses, his voice already wrecked, āwhereās your room?ā
ādown the hall, third door on the rightā
he carries you there with your legs locked around his waist and your mouths still fused together. the second your door closes behind you, he pins you against it, your back hitting the wood with a soft thud. his hips rock forwards, grinding his cock against your soaked panties through your clothes, the friction sending sparks up your spine.
āyou have no ideaā, he says against your lips, his voice low and rough, āhow long iāve thought about having you like thisā
you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, āis that why you watch my lives? so you can have filthy fantasies about me?ā
chan freezes. his hands stay on your body but he pulls back an inch, his breathing hard and his eyes wide with sudden shock. you slide down until your feet touch the floor, then step closer again, pressing your body against his. your fingers trace up his chest as you look up at him through your lashes.
āchrisā¦ iām the camgirl you always watchā, you say, watching the realisation dawn across his face.
he stares at you, his chest heaving as the pieces click into place so fast you can almost see the moment it hits him.Ā
his pupils blow wide, his lips parting on a shaky exhale, but you donāt give him time to speak. you lean in and press your mouth to the column of his throat, kissing the hot skin there before dragging your tongue along his pulse point.
āi always knew you watched meā, you murmur between kisses, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, āyour username, the way you commentā¦ i recognised you the second you sent the first one, chrisā, your teeth graze his earlobe, āand i find it so fucking hot that youāve been watching me all this time. that you get hard for me every night and youāve probably jerked off to my lives more times than you can countā
chanās whole body jerks. his hand tighten on your waist like he is physically holding himself back from coming right there in his pants. a low, broken sound leaves his throat as your lips move lower, sucking a mark just above his collarbone while your hand slides down to palm the thick bulge straining against his zipper.
before you can react, his mouth crashes back onto yours with bruising force. his hands move with frantic purpose, yanking all of your clothes off until youāre both completely naked in the middle of your room. his cock stands thick and heavy between you, already leaking at the tip from how worked up he is.Ā
āon your kneesā, he says, his voice commanding but threaded with raw need, āright here on the floorā
you drop to your knees without hesitation and the moment you are settled, his cock is right in front of your face. one of his hands wraps around the base, slowly stroking himself while the other slides into your hair, his fingers threading deep and gripping tight. he pumps his fist a couple of times, letting you watch the way his thumb smears the precum across the tip.
āiām going to fuck your throatā, he says, āfor every single time you knew it was me watching you. for every night you spread your legs on camera knowing i was stroking my cock to you. for seeing me every day and still pretending you were so sweet and innocentā, his grip in your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, āyou knew and you let me sufferā
you look up at him through your lashes, your lips already parting and your voice trembling with want, āplease, use me, chris. fuck my mouth however you want. i want itā
chanās breath hitches and then he guides the head of his cock to your lips, rubbing the tip across them until they glisten.
āopenā, he says.
you obey instantly, your tongue flicking out to taste him. he pushes forward slowly at first, letting you adjust to the stretch as he slides over your tongue and deeper. the hand in your hair holds you steady while the other stays wrapped around the base as he moves his cock into your mouth.
āfuckā¦ thatās itā, he groans when your lips close around him, āsuck me just like thatā
he starts to move, letting you get used to his cock on your mouth. your tongue presses up against the underside of his cock, swirling around the tip every time he pulls back. saliva quickly coats him, making each slide wetter and filthier and he just watches your mouth stretch around him with hungry eyes, as your eyes roll back.
āiāve been dreaming about thisā; he says as his hips roll forward a little harder, ālook at you, on your knees for meā
he pushes deeper on the next thrust, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. you gag softly, some tears rolling down your face, but you donāt pull away, and the sight makes him curse under his breath.
āfuckā¦ youāre so fucking perfectā, he says, his voice strained, ātaking it so well. breathe through your nose, baby. let me inā
he holds your head gently but firmly and thrusts again, this time sinking until your nose nearly touches his stomach. more tears spill down your cheeks from the pressure, but the heat in his gaze only intensifies. he pulls back, letting you gasp for air, making strings of spit connect your lips to his cock and then he pushes in again.Ā
he continues fucking your mouth and every time he hits the back of your throat you swallow around him, the tight squeeze making his thighs tremble. his hand in your hair never hurts, just keeps you there, exactly where he wants you.
āthatās it, y/nā¦ just like that. suck harder- fuck, yesā, his voice cracks on the last word when you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper on your own.
you keep your eyes on him, watching the way his abs flex and his jaw goes slack with pleasure. he is so hard it almost hurts, the veins of his cock pulsing against your tongue.
āi-iām gonna comeā, he warns you, āwant it in your mouth?ā
you moan around him in answer and then he thrusts faster, chasing his release, the hand in your hair tightening as his control finally fails. with a broken groan, he buries himself as deep as he can and comes hard. his cum floods your mouth, hot and heavy, some of it spilling from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin because there is simply too much.
he keeps thrusting through it, riding out every wave while you swallow what you can, the rest leaking messily down your throat and onto your chest and nipples. his whole body shakes with the force of it, a wrecked sound leaving his chest as he finally slows, still holding your head gently.
he pulls out slowly, his cock twitching and a final bead of cum dripping from the tip onto your tongue. you look up at him, your lips swollen, your chin shiny with his cum and your eyes glassy, and he lets out a shaky exhale at the sight. he then slides his arms and pulls you up against him. he starts kissing you again, tasting his own cum on your tongue.Ā
he walks you backwards without breaking the kiss, guiding you until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. you sit down on the mattress and he sinks to his knees between your spread thighs. he moves to your collarbone, pressing slow and open-mouthed kisses along your skin.
his tongue moves lower, finding the streaks of his cum that had dripped onto your chest. he licks your nipples, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and cleaning every drop with his tongue, making your back arch, before he moves to the other nipple.
āf-fuckā¦ chrisā, you moan as you try to move closer to him.
his lips move lower again, over the curve of your stomach. then he moves you just enough to have your feet planted on the floor while your back rests flat on the bed, the position leaving you completely open for him.Ā
chanās tongue drags a stripe from your entrance to your clit, before he seals his lip around it and sucks. a broken moan tears from your throat as he licks and sucks you, each of them perfectly timed to keep you hovering right on the edge without tipping over. his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit for a few seconds then slows to long and lazy strokes that have you grinding down against his face.
āchris- pleaseā, you gasp as your fingers move to his hair, āmore. i-i need moreā
he hums against you and then one of his fingers slides through your folds, gathering your juices before he presses it inside, then adds a second finger. his mouth stays on your clit, sucking and licking and driving you insane. every time your walls started to flutter around his fingers, he stops, pulling back just enough that the orgasm slips away again.
āfuck, you taste even better than i imaginedā, he says against your soaked cunt, āi could stay here for hoursā, he says as he licks another slow stripe, then sucks your clit between his plump lips.
your hips buck hard but he holds you down with one strong hand across your lower belly. you are shaking, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.
āplease, chris, please let me come. i canāt take it anymoreā
he answers you by thrusting his fingers deeper while his tongue works on your clit. the pressure builds again, hotter and sharper than before, your thighs shaking around his head, but just as you feel yourself about to tip over, he slows once more, keeping you right on the precipice.
āiām begging youā, you sob, your hips twitching uselessly against his hold, ālet me come, p-pleaseā
chan groans low in his throat and he finally gives in. his fingers curl hard against that perfect spot that makes you stop breathing while his mouth sucks your clit harder and you finally hurtle over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you. your walls clench around his fingers and he doesnāt stop, he keeps licking and sucking and fingering you until your legs are shaking uncontrollably and broken little cries spill from your lips.Ā
he presses one last gentle kiss to your oversensitive clit before he pulls his fingers free. he looks up at you from between your thighs, his lips shiny and his eyes dark with satisfaction. your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, the aftershocks still rippling through you.
his hands slide beneath your body, lifting you as he rises from his knees. he moves you further onto the bed, lying you down properly with your head on the pillows before he climbs over you. his body covers yours completely, skin pressed to skin, and his mouth finds yours again. your hands roam everywhere, over the hard planes of his shoulders, down the flexing muscles of his back, on his neck, moving to his ass to pull him closer to you.
āi wanted this so badlyā, he says against you lips, āi couldnāt stop thinking about youā
your hands keep exploring, your fingers tracing every muscle and your nails scraping down his sides until he shivers. the kiss grows messier, your tongues chasing each other while your bodies rock together in small and needy movements.
suddenly, you press your hands against chanās chest and push him. he lets you roll him onto his back without resistance, letting you straddle his hips as you lay on top of him now. your hands stay on his chest, pinning him down while you look at him with a wicked little smile.
āyouāre not the only one whoās had fantasiesā, you tell him, your voice low and husky, āiāve thought about you for months. about how it would feel to just sit on your cock and keep you inside me, warming you while you throb and acheā
his eyes widen at your words.
cock warming.
his cock jerks hard against your ass at the image, already swelling again, but at the same time, heās not sure if heās gonna last, he thinks the image alone could make him come there and then.Ā
āshit- wait, i donāt know if i can-ā, he says, his voice rough with sudden desperation, but you cut him off with a kiss.
your tongue pushes into his mouth and you nip at his bottom lip before releasing him, āshh, itās my turn nowā
you shift up on your knees, reaching between your bodies to wrap your fingers around his cock. you drag the head through your folds, coating him in your arousal before lining him up. you start pushing him inside you, both of you moaning at the same time. you sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch until your ass meets his hips and he is buried inside you. the stretch burns so good you have to pause, breathing hard, feeling every throb of him against your inner walls.Ā
āplease, m-moveā, chan begs you, his voice cracking as his hands move to your hips, his fingers digging in, āfuck- you feel so tight. please ride meā
you shake your head, staying perfectly still, clenching around him deliberately before you lean down to kiss along his jaw.
āyou know, iāve imagined this exact moment a lot of timesā, you say as your lips brush his ear, āiād use my fingers and pretend they were your cock, just feeling them inside me like this. but it wasnāt what i wanted, i wanted to feel you get harder and harder until you couldnāt take it anymoreā
he groans, his hips moving upwards, but you press down harder, keeping him pinned there.
āi also fantasised about waking up with you already inside meā, you continue, your voice breathy, āabout you filling me up in the middle of the night and just staying there, your cock throbbing while i clenched around you. we could try that another day if you wantā
you can feel him swelling even more inside you, the head of his cock pressing deeper with every word you say. his breathing turns ragged, his chest heaving under your hands.
āy/n, pleaseā¦ i-iām gonna come if you donāt moveā, he says, his voice strained.
you finally start to move, slowly, very slowly, lifting just a bit before sinking back down. the drag of him against your walls makes you both moan. your clit brushes against the base of his cock with every move, sending sparks through your core.Ā
chanās grip tightens on your hips, āfaster, p-please, go fasterā, he begs you, his eyes glassy with need.
you give him what he wants and pick up the pace until your thighs burn and the wet sounds of your bodies fill the room. his hand slides between you, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing circles that make your vision blur.Ā
you fall forward on his chest, your mouths crashing together in a kiss while your hips keep moving and you keep swallowing each otherās moans as the pleasure builds higher.
āfuck, iāmā¦ iām closeā, chan gasps against your lips, his fingers working your clit faster while his other hand moves to your ass, helping you move on top of him.
you clench around him hard, riding him with quick and shallow rolls that drag your clit against his skin with every thrust. his cock pulses inside you, thick and hot, and the feeling pushes you right to the edge.
ācome with me, chrisā, you whisper, your voice breaking, āfill me up, pleaseā
the orgasms hit both of you at once. your walls clamp down around him while he thrusts up hard, burying himself deep as he spills inside you. his cum fills your cunt, mixing with your own juices as you shake on top of him. the kiss turns sloppy, all tongue and desperate sounds while your bodies shake together through every wave. you stay locked like that, trembling as the room spins around you.Ā
his cock still pulses faintly inside your cunt, the warm mix of your juices and his cum leaking out around his softening cock with every tiny shift. you move your head just enough to look at him and brush some strands of hair from his forehead with gentle fingers.
āyou okay, chris?ā, you whisper, your voice hoarse from all the moaning.
he nods, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as his hands slide up your back in soothing strokes, āyeahā¦ more than okay. you?ā
you nod your head, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone before nuzzling into his neck. slowly, you begin to move again, but this time itās tender. you rock your hips in gentle circles, feeling his cock twitch and start to stir once more inside you, but you keep it unhurried, savouring the connection.
chan groans softly and moves you so he can kiss you again. you melt into the kiss, your hands cupping his face as you suck gently on his lower lip, the kiss turning wet and sensual, your mouths parting and reconnecting with soft sighs.
his hands roam your body again, palming your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers until theyāre hard again, then they slide down your body to grip your ass cheeks and spread them slightly, letting more of his cum drip from your cunt onto his balls. you clench around him again, drawing a low moan from his throat that vibrates against your lips.
he breaks the kiss first, pulling back just enough to look at you with a dazed and incredulous expression, before a soft laugh escapes him, rumbling through his chest beneath your palms.
āi canāt believe all this time it was youā, he says, his voice still rough, āmonths of wanting you and also jerking off to those streams, imagining exactly this, with youā
you laugh too, a bright and breathless sound that makes your cunt flutter around his cock.
āsurpriseā, you say, teasing him, leaning in to capture his mouth again, your tongue dancing with his as your hips give another lazy roll, grinding your clit against the base of his cock.
he breaks the kiss again, āwhen you said yesterday i was your favourite fanā¦ you meant the livestreams?ā, he asks you suddenly, a shocked look on his face.
you laugh again, pulling him back into the kiss without answering directly at first, just your lips parting his and your tongues sliding together as you suck on his tongue like you want to devour every reaction. the make-out turns even slower, more intimate, full of nips and licks along his jaw, your neck, your teeth grazing his earlobe while your walls still squeeze his cock inside you.
you break the kiss this time, pulling back just enough to trace lazy patterns over this chest with your fingertips, circling his nipples before dragging lower across his abs, feeling them tense under your touch. you bite your lip, your eyes locked on his as you feel the head of his cock pressing insistently against your cervix with every subtle shift.
āsoā¦ are you ready to show me some more of those fantasies that you have?ā, you say as you clench around him again, feeling every vein and throb of his cock inside you.
chan leans up closer, his hands tightening on your waist as his eyes darken with renewed hunger.
āiām more than readyā, he growls against your lips before kissing you again, his tongue pushing in as you feel his cock swell fully hard once more inside you, already twitching with fresh need and ready to fuck you through every fantasy youāve both been holding back.
pairing: TA!bang chan x f!reader genre/tags: college au, smut with plot, implied age gap, way too much sexual tension, oral (m + f receiving), dom!chan, nipple play, light degradation/praise kink, piv, unprotected s*x, creampie, possessive!chan, aftercare words: 11.5k (wtf is my life š)
[ note. ] ā finally posting the first fic of my crash course series (i changed the titles hehe), spent the whole night editing this so i could post this weekend >.< ALSO thanks sm for 6k !! ily guys so bad <3
cross posted to AO3
college wasnāt supposed to feel this suffocating. at least, thatās what you kept telling yourself between long sighs of frustration and tugging on your hair like somehow pulling harder will pull an answer to all of your problems out of the air. it had to get better, right? at some point, youād figure this out. at some point, youād be able to catch up like everyone else, slide back into a rhythm, fix your grades, fix everything.
but no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, deep down you knew the truth.
you were absolutely fucked.
it had been building for months now, a slow unraveling that you hadnāt even noticed until the exam grades started rolling in and hitting like sucker punches straight to the ribs. a 61 in econ. 58 in calc. a humiliating 43 in the upper-division statistics course you had only signed up for because your advisor swore up and down youād ādo fineā if you just showed up, paid attention, and did the work. of course, nobody told you how hard itād be to do the work when school felt like breaking your brain with each passing week.
and sure, it wasnāt entirely your fault you were in this now completely catastrophic mess. life happened. you were busy. sooo busy.
tests piled up, papers came due, and before you knew it, the semester had gotten away from you. one skipped lecture turned into two, and then three, because the hangover was too heavy, or you woke up too late, or maybe skipping just became easier than showing up and realizing you still didnāt fucking get it.
your friends didnāt seem to have a problem with it though. in fact, they seemed to be doing just fine, sitting pretty with half the stress you carried while partying with twice the energy. it was infuriating.
how did these trust fund, name-dropping, parents-pay-everything-for-me types just breeze their way through life while you clawed and struggled and stressed for every single second of yours?
ājust donāt think about it,ā theyād say when you worried aloud about your scholarship.
ātake a mental health day. or week. you deserve it!ā
āa curve will carry you through like always.ā
but that curve was not saving your ass this time, and honestly, the guilt of falling so far behind wasnāt even the worst part.
the worst part was knowing you were the one who let it happen.
there wasnāt anyone else to pin this on, no scapegoat for the party invites you shouldnāt have accepted or the nights out you couldnāt say no to because itād look bad to disappear. youād justā¦ kept up.
and things were funā exciting, evenā until they werenāt. until you realized just how hard you were sinking.
and now here you were; failing half your classes, barely passing the others, one more missed lecture away from kissing your scholarship goodbye. and you didnāt even have anyone to turn to for help.
the people you called āfriends,ā those picture-perfect girls with weekly blowouts paid on daddyās card and those polished guys with frat pins and parents on donor listsā werenāt actually your friends.
because now that you needed something? now that you were desperate for someone to swoop in and save you from drowning? they only had half-hearted excuses to offer you.
āsorry, babe, weāre swamped with group projects,ā one girl had said while sipping an overpriced matcha latte you knew for a fact her roommate paid for.
ādude, just hit up someone in your class. youāll figure it out,ā one guy shrugged, adjusting his collar on what was clearly a brand-new polo shirt for his friday night out.
every excuse only added to the dull ache in your chest.
so maybe they werenāt your friends, not really. maybe they just liked the version of you who didnāt ask for anything, the one who could keep up, who looked shiny and fun and confident all the time.
now, all you had to show for was a rapidly deteriorating GPA, an inbox of ignored emails from professors, a terrifyingly close āacademic warningā notice, and a desperate gamble hanging on a thin thread of possibility.
and that gamble was chan.
you didnāt actually know much about him beyond his name, just that he seemed way too hot to be stuck explaining complex theories to freshmen and that he was ridiculously good at his job as a TA for your statistics course.
almost too good.
you sat in the back most of the time, quietly zoning out while he spoke about office hours or went over practice examples that looked more like hieroglyphics to you than math. sometimes youād stare down blankly at your notebook, pretending to write, just so he wouldnāt call on you.
but now, you didnāt really have a choice anymore, did you?
you were corneredā trapped, honestlyā with the weight of your failing grades pressing down on you so hard that it felt like itād snap your spine in half. chan was your only chance to fix this, and there wasnāt any guarantee heād even agree to help you.
as far as you could tell from the few glancesā okay, staresā youād snuck during class or the rare moments you did try to pay attention, chan wasnāt the kind of guy who did anyone favors for free. he was helpful, sure. ridiculously patient, disgustingly smart, but distant in this professional, untouchable way that felt more intimidating than approachable.
which sucked because he was so insanely good-looking it made your stomach twist everytime you saw him.
like how was that even fair? how did someone with a full schedule of grading papers and breaking down theorems for struggling students still look like that?
it wasnāt just the obvious things, either, like his jawline being sharp enough to slice through a brick wall or the way his hair always sat perfectly, even if it looked like heād run his hands through it a million times. or the broad shoulders that strained against his button-ups, the way the rolled up sleeves gave a front-row view of his inked forearms when he turned to write on the board, heād done that on purpose, you were sure of it.
no, it was deeper than that. something about him justā¦ oozed authority. he had this natural confidence, this charm that made every interaction feel intentional, sharpened by polite smirks and these piercingly knowing looks that made you feel like he could see straight through you.
and that was terrifying.
you werenāt exactly one to shy away from attention. hell, you practically craved it on most days, but the idea of being in the same room as chan, let alone putting yourself at his mercy by asking for a favor this big? it put knots in your stomach.
to be fair, it wasnāt just how hot he was or how sharp his tone could get if someone asked an obviously stupid question. it was the fact that you knewā you knewā heād seen you at your worst.
because, letās face it, you werenāt exactly subtle. it wasnāt hard to notice the girl stumbling into class ten minutes late with one hand clutching a coffee she clearly didnāt need and the other hand trying to smooth yesterdayās mascara out from under her eyes. or the girl whoād roll her eyes during presentations, whispering sarcastic comments to her desk mate only to fail her own turn at the podium because she hadnāt read the material.
you saw it in the way his eyes flicked over you sometimesā brief, appraising glances, like he was clocking all the things you were doing wrong but didnāt have the energy to care. and that made asking for his helpā¦ well, humiliating wasnāt even the right word.
but when you thought of all your options, or lack thereof, it was clear. chan was your only shot.
which leads you to now, racing down the hallway outside his office hours, totally unprepared and already out of breath just thinking about how this might go.
your sneakers squeaked against the tiled floor as you skidded to a halt in front of his office door, heart hammering out an uneven rhythm.
what were you even supposed to say? āhi, sorry for being the laziest, least deserving person ever, but can you please do me a favor and save my entire academic career ??ā
your reflection wobbled in the slim window beside the door, your hairās slightly disarray, and your tote bagās slipping off one shoulder. the image made something bitter crawl up the back of your throat.
you didnāt even look like the kind of student chan would want to help. no pressed chinos or perfectly highlighted notes. you didnāt smell like coffee and effort; you smelled like nerves and desperation.
but fuck it. this was life or death.
your knuckles rapped against the wood once, then twice, before your hand fell limply at your side. god, your heart was racing.
ācome in.ā his voice rang out from the other side, clipped and smooth, familiar to the point where your knees almost gave out. there wasnāt a single part of you that felt ready for this.
steeling yourself with one last breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside.
chan was at his desk, pen in hand, leaning over a stack of papers with that laser sharp focus that made you question if he was actually human. his glasses sat neatly in place, silver-framed and faintly reflecting the soft overhead light above him. it wasnāt until you had shyly cleared your throat that his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours. they were unreadable, scanning over you, down to your bag and back up again, before settling on your face.
āneed something?ā he asked, leaning back in his chair slightly.
this was it. do or die.
you tried not to let your voice tremble too much as you spoke. āhi, uh- hi, chan. do you have a minute? itās about my grades.ā
there was a pause, half a second that felt more like half an hour, before the smallest flicker of amusement crossed his lips.
āi figured.ā
just two words, said so lightly they couldāve meant nothing, but they were enough to make your stomach curdle. you wrung your hands together in front of you, shifting slightly under the sheer weight of his gaze as he gestured for you to sit.
āgo ahead,ā he said, resting his chin in his palm now, pen dangling lazily between his fingers. his tone stayed polite, but there was something about the way his eyes followed you as you sank into the chair. ātell me whatās going on.ā
fuck. where did you even start?
you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly feeling bone dry as you stared back at him. chanās gaze was pointed, measured, like he wasnāt just listeningā he was assessing. waiting, with those sharp brown eyes unblinking, his full attention zeroing in on you in a way that was making it near impossible to concentrate.
this was already a disasterā¦
āwell, um,ā you began, your fingers nervously twisting the strap of your bag as you attempted (and failed) to keep your voice level. there was something annoyingly self-assured about the way he sat there, looking completely relaxed while your nerves threatened to devour you alive.
āiāve been struggling with the coursework,ā you said, your tone more apologetic than you wanted it to be. ālike, a lot. stats isnāt really coming easy to me, and i guess i.. fell behind.ā
he hummed softly, as if that didnāt surprise him one bit.
the sound made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
āi know itās my fault,ā you blurted out, tightening your grip on your bagās strap like itāll stop the word vomit. āiāve been really busy, too busy, honestly, and i know i didnāt prioritize things the way i should have, but i swear, iām not usually this badāā
āhow bad?ā chan interrupted coolly.
you blinked, your voice freezing in your throat.
he quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, a gesture so calm, so subtle, and yet it sent a wave of dread rolling through your chest anyway.
āyour grades,ā he clarified, tone light and casual, the pen absently swaying between his fingers as if he wasnāt deliberately making you squirm. āhow bad are we talking here?ā
āuhā¦ā you hesitated, swallowing again as the words caught on the lump in your throat. there really wasnāt a more humiliating way to admit this, so you justā¦ ripped the bandaid off.
āfailing,ā you confessed. ālike, actually failing.ā
if chan was surprised, he didnāt show it. he didnāt do anything, reallyā except lean back further in his chair and once again let that infuriating, unreadable expression sit on his face.
āright,ā he said slowly, dragging the word out as his eyes flitted down to his desk.
right.
the way he said itā low, simple, dismissiveā was somehow worse than if heād said nothing at all.
your cheeks flushed with heat as you continued feebly, trying to fill the silence stretching between you. ābut, um, i can fix it! iām not- iām not hopeless or anything, and if thereās any sort of grade curve, i canāā
āyouāre not getting a curve,ā he said bluntly, cutting you off.
your heart sank somewhere into the pit of your stomach.
the words hit you like a brick to the faceā not cruelly, and not even softly, justā¦ so matter-of-fact, almost like he hadnāt even registered your desperation.
āoh,ā you said lamely, voice wavering.
for a moment, it felt like the shame might actually swallow you whole.
you couldnāt bear to look at him now, but you felt his eyes narrow on you anywayā burning a hole through you as every ounce of resolve youād built for this conversation unraveled bit by bit. this is what youād been afraid of, wasnāt it? being dismissed. getting rejected so fast he wouldnāt even finish hearing you out.
ābut,ā chan said after the pause had lingered just a second too long, āif youāre serious about getting your grades up, maybe thereās something we can do.ā
your head shot up so fast you felt lightheaded.
ār-really?ā you stammered, your eyes wide and hopeful.
for the first time, his lips turned upward into a sly smirkā a barely-there expression that mightāve seemed harmless if his eyes didnāt gleam the way they did alongside it.
āsure,ā he said simply, leaning forward now to rest his elbows on the desk between you. ācome to my next office hours, and weāll see how serious you actually are.ā
office hours. simple enough, you thought.
exceptā¦ the way he said it didnāt exactly feelsimple.
there was this weight behind the words, an implication you didnāt quite have the nerve (or the clarity) to fully dissect.
āokay,ā you said quickly, trying to hide how much of a mess you already were.
chan reached for his notepad then, flipping it open before scribbling something down. you didnāt think you were looking particularly hard at his hands or his forearms, but the way the sleeve of his button-up pulled tight around his arm certainly made it hard not to notice.
āyouāll need help catching up. this isnāt something you can fix overnight,ā he began, his voice returning to that smooth, professional tone that simultaneously put you on edge and made your chest feel unreasonably tight. āstats takes focus, effort, attention. itās not something you can bullshit your way through.ā
āi know,ā you murmured, feeling small under the lecture but nodding eagerly anyway. āi will. iām- iāll focus, i promise.ā
he didnāt answer, but the faintest hint of amusement returned to his face when he tore out the slip of paper and handed it across the desk.
a phone number.
his phone number.
āwhatās this for?ā you asked curiously, blinking up at him.
āso i can send you the address.ā
your heart stuttered. āuhā¦ address for what?ā
he leaned back in his chair again. āyouāll come to my place next week,ā chan said, still calm, but there was a heaviness in his tone you couldnāt miss. āthat way, you can get the help you actually need, without all the distractions.ā
there was something unreasonably intimate about the ideaā you couldnāt even imagine slipping into his orbit here without losing your composure, and now he wanted you to see him in his space?
another knot twisted violently in your stomach.
he mustāve noticed the hesitation creeping into your face because the smirk tilted downward briefly, replaced with something oddly serious instead.
āyou do want to get a passing grade, donāt you?ā
his question made your lips part uselessly. āy-yeah. of course!ā
āthen iāll see you there,ā he said plainly, with an air of finality that left you no room to argue even if youād wanted to.
you clutched the small slip of paper tightly between your fingers as the weight of his expectations, and his presence, stuck to your skin like damp heat.
and when you left that night, your own nerves clinging to you like static, one thing was painfully clear.
you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
+
waking up five hours ahead of schedule shouldāve been the first sign that today was going to feel completely off.
in fact, the entire day felt like one long, slow burn nightmare that had started from the moment your eyes shot open at 4 am and never quite recovered. with each passing minute, the reality of what you were about to do crept closer, sitting heavier and heavier in your chest.
you were going to chanāsā¦ apartment. alone. to study. nothing else, obviously. just a completely normalā¦ consensualā¦ totally academic tutoring session with quite possibly the hottest man youād ever laid eyes on.
so what if his arms were covered in tattoos you wanted to lick the outlines of? or if the memory of his sharp smirk from office hours was burned so deeply into your brain that even your shower thoughts felt unholy?
it wasnāt like anything was going to happen.
still, you couldnāt stop the way your whole body buzzed with nerves as you left your apartment that afternoon.
youād spent way too much time debating what to wearā going through a tornado of outfits in your tiny room until your bed was buried in every top and pair of jeans you owned. you finally settled on something that you hoped gave, oh, this? i just threw it on! what, no, of course i donāt care that deeply about your opinion of me, even if the truth was written all over your mistake-proof eyeliner and the lingering scent of vanilla perfume on your wrists.
as a last minute, desperate attempt to soften him up, you stopped by a bakery near campus to grab some cheesecake slices. they were way too expensive for your crumbling student budget, but you figured they might do a little to save your poor, failing ass if your consistent eye twitch didnāt already scream pathetic gratitude. it was as much a bribe as it was a peace offering. you were about to invade his personal space, after all.
when you got to his building, you were a goddamn wreck.
your hands were clammy against the handle of the bakery box, your stomach twisting into violent knots as you rode the elevator to his floor. when the doors slid open, the reality of the situation hit you all over again; chan had only agreed to this because you were failing.
it wasnāt because he liked you, or thought you were special, or that he wanted to spend any alone time with you, despite every wildly horny fantasy your brain had conjured over the weekend. no, you were here because you were barely passing, and whatever mercy he was giving you came with conditions.
heās seen it all, you reminded yourself. heard it all. probably helped a million people like you. donāt think youāre anything special, idiot.
your hands shook slightly as you reached his door, and after a brief moment of hesitation, you knocked.
the sound echoed back sharply, filling the silence of the hallway like a bomb ticking down the seconds. you almost bolted on the spot before you heard the faint shuffle on the other side, quick footsteps, the sound of the lock turningā and then, there he was.
chan leaned against the edge of the doorframe, his hand rested casually on the knob as his eyes danced over you in an entirely neutral expression. no glasses today, you noted immediately, your stomach sinking at how irritatingly attractive that somehow made him.
āyouāre on time,ā he remarked, his voice warm, but lightly amused.
your brain tripped over itself like it was your first time understanding words. āoh- yeah. of course! i didnāt want to, uh, keep you waiting.ā
...an embarrassing response. great start.
chanās mouth quirked, faint but noticeable as he stepped to the side to let you in.
ācome in. shoes off right there,ā he instructed, gesturing toward the neatly lined space by the door.
you followed silently, fully aware of every movement you made as you tugged your sneakers off and balanced them into place. if your nerves hadnāt already clocked out from overuse, your next observation wouldāve totally knocked you out:
his place was spotless.
you werenāt entirely sure what youād been expecting, but āclean freakā definitely wasnāt on the list. chanās apartment was airy, quiet, andā dare you sayā insultingly immaculate.
there wasnāt a single stray sock, not a speck of dust, no sink of dishes, or tangled wires ruining your line of sight to his bookshelves and minimalist decor. every inch of the space reeked of effortless organization, right down to the softly folded blanket on the couch and the perfectly centered pack of coasters on the coffee table.
it made your mess of an apartment seem downright feral by comparison.
ācute shoes,ā he said airily from the kitchen, snapping your attention back to him as he leaned briefly into the fridge.
you blinked. āwhat?ā
he nodded toward where youād set your sneakers by the door. āyour shoes, makes me think of those cheesy cartoon outfits. the ones with stars or glitter or something. kinda fun.ā
you werenāt sure if that was meant to be an insult or a compliment, so you went with the safest option. āuh, thanks?ā
chanās faint smirk returned, but just as quickly as it flickered across his face, he tilted his head toward the counter expectantly.
āwhatās that?ā he asked.
āoh!ā you moved quickly to the kitchen, thrusting the bakery box slightly forward in your hands. āi brought these for you! uh, itās just some pastries- cheesecake slices, actually. i thought they mightā¦ā you trailed off, your words jumbling under the weight of his sharp gaze. āyou know. be, um, nice. like, as a thank you or something. for helping me.ā
you swore his smirk softened into something closer to a genuine grin, but you couldnāt be sure when it disappeared so quickly after.
"you didnāt have to do that,ā he said, sliding the box easily from your hands.
āi know, butā¦ā you shrugged weakly. āi just wanted to.ā
he didnāt respond, his fingers deftly undoing the box lid before plucking one of the cheesecakes out. the sight felt unreasonably intimate, his hand brushing faint crumbs from the edge of the slice, the subtle twitch of his jaw as he took a bite and let the flavor settle.
āthese are good,ā he muttered, nodding slightly to himself. āthanks.ā
you couldnāt tell if it was your heart that skipped or the entirety of your respiratory system.
+
things started out normal enoughā or, at least, as normal as they could be considering who you were talking to and where you were.
after clearing space at his kitchen table, chan brought over your textbook and a loose stack of papers, pen already twirling idly between his fingers as his other hand tugged his chair close enough to yours that your collective elbows almost touched.
you were pretty sure your breathing hadnāt returned to normal for the past twenty minutes. you were hyper-aware of everything. the smooth tone of his voice when he walked you through a concept, the subtle tilt of his head when he waited for your response, the faint drag of his cologne hanging in the air when he leaned just marginally closer to explain something written on the page.
and worse, you were hyper-aware of yourselfā your knees glued together without even trying, the way you were actively avoiding looking at his jaw when he spoke lest your brain run headfirst into the gutter.
āyouāre staring,ā his voice broke through your thought spiral.
shit.
āwhat?ā you said a little too quickly.
āthe page,ā he clarified, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward knowingly as he glanced between your face and the textbook. āyouāve been staring at it without writing for at least five minutes. you good, or am i wasting my time here?ā
heat crawled its way onto your cheeks as you scrambled to collect yourself. āno- no! youāre not wasting your time! sorry, i justāā
āgot distracted?ā
you hesitated, wetting your lips.
chanās eyes dragged toward your neck for half a second before refocusing on your face.
āuhā¦ yeah,ā you murmured, staring pointedly at the page.
for a few tense beats, you felt like he might call you out for it.
but instead, he just leaned back slightly, pen tapping once against the edge of the table.
āthen get back on track,ā he said firmly, his gaze somehow impassive and heavy all at once.
sure, you thought bitterly to yourself. easier said than done... when the guy helping you has literal pornstar hands.
chanās voice cuts through your thoughts once again, a faint edge to it this time that told you he wasnāt exactly sold on the idea that you werenāt wasting his time here. āyou sure youāre ready for this?ā he asked, tapping your mostly blank notebook with the end of his pen.
you blinked out of your haze and nodded way too quickly. āyeah. totally ready. so ready.ā
you absolutely, 100%, did not feel ready. not when you were currently dangling a very loose grip on your academic salvationā and yout raging hormonesā and failing at both. yet somehow chan managed to keep his composure as if this wasnāt a complete minefield of professional boundaries.
meanwhile, you were over here sweating bullets.
āalright,ā he said, leaning forward again, his broad shoulders casually brushing against yours. if he noticed the way you stiffened, he didnāt say anything. āletās start simpleā¦ p-value hypothesis testing. whatās the first step?ā
you stared at the page. your brain immediately short circuited.
whatās a p-value, again? what was anything?
chan waited a single beat, then sighed softly, setting his pen down. āyouā¦ donāt know the first step, do you?ā
oh god. here it came. the humiliation. the āi knew itā look. maybe even a quiet dismissal to wrap things up early before sending you sliding further into a deeper pit of failure.
you started to stammer out some sort of excuse (āoh, i studied this, i promise- okay, maybe not entirely, but iāā), but chan tilted his head and spoke before you could spiral completely.
āitās fine if you donāt,ā he said casually, folding his arms on the table. āthatās why youāre here, right? because you donāt know it yet. the whole point is to fix that.ā
you froze.
his tone was impossibly calm, but something beneath it made your breath hitch. if you didnāt know any better, youād almost call the sharpness soothing.
āright,ā you muttered, shrinking a little further. āmy bad. letāsā¦start again.ā
chan gave a faint dimpled look as he leaned over the page and grabbed your pen. the pen you were holding. his hand accidentally brushed yours in the process, skin startlingly warm where it touched you. you nearly yelped.
ārelax,ā he said, not unkindly. āno oneās grading you here, except me.ā
unfortunately for you, that felt so much worse..
+
after nearly an hour with his voice calmly talking you through samples, datasets, and linear regression analysis (all concepts that still felt vaguely indistinguishable from alien geometry), youād somehow managed to make marginal progressā and chan had seemingly noticed.
āsee? not bad,ā he remarked as he glanced over your most recent set of notes, his eyebrows raising slightly. your handwriting was a little cleaner now, still a chaotic scrawl, but at least things looked almost organized. āyouāve got a handle on it.ā
your chest filled with unexpected relief at his words. āyou mean iām notā¦ a complete disaster?ā
chan shrugged, brushing his hands over the table before shooting you a teasing grin. āi wouldnāt say that. youāre still a mess.ā
you gawked at him. āseriously?ā
ābut,ā he added, āyouāre trying. iāll give you that.ā
you werenāt sure whether to hide your face or laugh until you cried, so you settled for rolling your eyes instead. his grin only deepened.
god, why did he have to look so good when he was being insufferable?
you glanced toward the books spread across the table, half a dozen equations and diagrams still staring back at you, and exhaled, hoping the knot in your chest would loosen. it didnāt. of course it didnāt.
the truth was, your nerves hadnāt settled once since you walked through his door. it wasnāt just the teasing remarks or the way he seemed to dig effortlessly under your skin with every perfectly timed knowing glance. it was the way he felt.
chan had this aura about him.
commanding, without shouting. stern, but not cruel. you couldnāt help but want to throw yourself at his feet and say, yes, iāll sit here and listen for hours if it makes you keep talking. please donāt stop talking.
and okay, that was probably not the best train of thought to have while sitting in front of the TA who controlled your grades. but still.
you were trying.
when the session finally came to an end, you shuffled awkwardly as chan walked you back toward the door, your tote bag once again slung over your shoulder.
āthanks forā¦ all of that,ā you started, uncomfortably aware of how clammy your hands felt as they smoothed over the strap. āi know itās not easy to deal with a failing, uh, wreck of a human being, butāā
āyouāre not a wreck,ā chan interrupted, his hand pausing briefly on the doorknob as he turned to face you. something in his tone was softer, not as sharp as usual, but still steady enough to stop the flow of your words dead in their tracks.
āā¦i mean,ā you mumbled dumbly, unable to recover from the unexpected crack in his voice.
āiāve had students who donāt try at all,ā he continued, resting his shoulder casually against the door. āthey show up late, make excuses, push everything onto someone else. but youāre here. youāre trying. that counts for more than you think.ā
your brain did at least three flips and a cartwheel.
āoh,ā you said after a beat, staring blankly. āthanks?ā
chanās smile this time was faint, but genuineā and it fucking killed you.
ātuesday next week,ā he said casually, pulling the door open before looking you over again. āsame time.ā
you nodded quickly, trying to ignore how the way he was standing, leaning coolly into the doorway, made his dress shirt stretch just enough to outline the definition beneath his forearmsā and goddamn it, your brain needed to stop looking for reasons to self-destruct in real time.
āgot it,ā you replied finally, your voice cracking slightly. ātuesday. next week. your place.ā
for one horrible, beat-worthy moment, chan raised his eyebrows at how awkwardly you repeated the words. his lips tilted faintly, that same painstakingly neutral expression etched onto his face again before he glanced to the side.
āgood,ā he said, brushing his fingers casually through his blond hair. ādonāt be late this time.ā
you nodded far too quickly as you stepped into the hallway, your breath caught somewhere deep in your chest and refusing to let go until he gave you a final, two-fingered wave and shut the door behind you.
and as you made your way down the hall, heart still pounding, all you could think was:
thereās no way youāll survive another week alone with him, is there?
+
if anyone had told you that this was how your semester would goā teetering dangerously between educational burnout and a full blown crisis of unhinged attractionā you wouldnāt have believed them.
then again, you also wouldnāt have believed that chan, your hot-as-hell statistics TA (who was only supposed to exist in the corner of your eye as some mildly inappropriate distraction during lecture), would be giving you one-on-one āstudy helpā in his fucking apartment of all places.
honestly, the past week was starting to make your head spin. it wasnāt just the fact that youād had two entire hours of uninterrupted, semi-casual conversation with him at his place. it wasā¦ everything else.
like how every once in a while now, when you passed him on campus, chan would send you this faint, almost smirk-like smile. just enough to acknowledge you in passingā a reminder that he noticed you, remembered you.
and everytime it happened, your stomach would twist.
the good twist. the kind that left an annoying ache inside you and made your face hot for the entirety of your next class.
chan, for his part, was impossible to read. professionally calm, unfailing in his confidence and aloofness, like every interaction heād ever had with anyone was just another detail to tuck neatly into his increasingly unbothered day.
sometimes, it caught you off guard how unfazed he was, how precise every movement and word that fell from his lips seemed to be. but then there were little cracks. moments when heād lean just a little too close, brush his hand against yours, or hold your gaze for just a second too long before looking away.
sometimes you wondered if he even noticed he was doing it, but then, there was a darker part of you, the louder part, that wondered if he was doing it on purpose.
if maybe, just maybe, those brief pauses in his movements carried a bit more weight. if maybe they whispered hints of curiosity, intrigueā¦ or something else entirely.
by the time tuesday rolled around, youād convinced yourself that your life was one endless spiral of humiliation and implosion.
because the mortifying truth was that, consciously or not, your behavior had become downright pathetic lately.
youād spent hours agonizing over what to wear to your next session with him. subtle. casual. blank canvas vibes. butā¦ you were also a living, breathing person with a functioning set of eyes and weekly terrible thoughts about chan in compromising positions, soā subtlety didnāt last very long.
instead, only twenty minutes before you were set to leave, youād swapped out your first two outfits for something else entirely; something tight enough to be dangerous, just low-cut enough to hint without outright show.
effortless, you told yourself in the mirror, even though the amount of effort it took for you to tear your eyes away from your own cleavage was anything but subtle. he wonāt even notice!
(spoiler: he noticed.)
and, of course, chanā being chanā acted completely immune.
when he opened the door for you this time, his expression barely shifted, except for a quick glance down at you, his gaze lingering for half a second before he looked away entirely.
āhey,ā was all he said. and just like that, you were sweating out of places you didnāt even know could sweat.
you followed him inside like you were walking toward your fucking demise.
the studying itself started as normal, or as normal as it could get when your brain was currently tied up in your own delusions.
chan had cleared the table again, leaning back in his chair with the kind of effortless authority you couldnāt stop staring at even if you wanted to.
āyouāre on your own for the first one,ā he said simply, sliding a freshly written-out problem set across the table toward you. āshow me how youād do it. no help this time.ā
on your own. fucking great.
you nodded quickly, eager, but mostly terrified to disappoint himā and immediately grabbed your pen.
his eyes scraped over your page as you worked, his chin resting against his palm in casual appraisal, until finally glancing over somewhere else. probably the wall or the clock or literally anything but you.
but youā¦ couldnāt stop stealing glances at him.
and it was bad.
unhinged, honestly.
your brain was preoccupied with all the places it shouldnāt have been; his shirt pushed up slightly against his forearms again, revealing more of the ink youād spent days mentally mapping out from last weekās memories. his brows furrowed faintly with concentration. the way his tongue brushed lightly over his lower lip when he leaned forward slightly to grabā
focus, you remind yourself harshly. seriously, shut the hell up. youāre failing.
...except focusing on him was exactly the problem.
by the time you finished the initial review process, youād written so many questionable numbers that it almost felt embarrassing to show him the work.
ādone already?ā he asked, his voice pulling your head up.
āuh,ā you said dumbly, sliding the notebook toward him far too quickly. āyeah! kind of.ā
chan gave you a blank look, but it softened faintly as he flipped through each line of your work, his mouth twitching slightly with what you couldnāt decide was approval or disappointment.
"well, this partās definitely wrong,ā he said lightly, tapping the edge of your paper. ābut at least you got one variable right this time. better than last week.ā
a laugh bubbled up your throat before you processed it.
chan flicked his gaze back toward you briefly at the sound, his head tilting faintly.
somehow, the tension in your stomach tightened further.
+
it had only been an hour when things started to spiral.
chan leaned forward to clarify yet another equation youād totally botched halfway through explaining. the subtle movement made your nerves hit their absolute limit, and suddenly, you couldnāt process a single thing he was saying anymore.
you nodded silently, robotically, as he pointed something out, but the tension had grown so unbearably tight that it felt like your body might snap in half if you didnāt get away for at least two seconds.
āuh, do you mind if i use your bathroom?ā you blurted out suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor.
chan lifted an eyebrow but offered no resistance. āsure,ā he said easily. āsecond door on the right.ā
you slammed the door shut a little quicker than necessary, chest heaving out a conflicted breath as you caught your reflection in the mirror above his sink.
what were you doing?
you hunched forward slightly, your arms gripping the edges of the counter as your eyes scanned your flushed cheeks and slightly blown-out pupils.
this was insane.
you were really about to self-destruct in front of your TA.
taking shallow, forceful breaths, you tried again to reel in what little sense of self you had left.
it wasnāt just that chan was too good-looking for anyoneās health. it was his sharpness, his confidenceā his way of seamlessly controlling the room with the smallest tilt of his chin and the faint, lingering bite of his words.
you werenāt just down bad. you were down atrocious.
your gaze drifted toward the sink while you mentally berated yourself over all the reasons this was so beyond inappropriate.
but instead, your eyes caught something else. an unfamiliar flash of color resting near the corner of the counter: a small, unopened box near the toiletries tray.
...a fucking box of condoms.
you blinked at it blankly for half a second before you stiffened in place with realization.
brand new. pristine. unopened. untouched.
what the hell???
a million questions ricocheted through your head all at once, loud and unbearably intrusive.
did he have a girlfriend? did someone bring these over for him? was he justā¦ that prepared?
your face burned fiercely, the ridiculous line of thought spiraling deep enough to make you lightheaded.
if he was seeing someone, then why was the box unopened? and why, why, were you even dissecting this to begin with, as if it mattered in the first place?
you never had a chance anyway, your brain helpfully supplied. you knew it the second you walked into his office for help.
you didnāt know how long you spent in the bathroom, fuming quietly at the mirror and trying to sweat out the flood of shame that was now taking up every corner of your mind.
chan didnāt say anything when you came back.
but the way his gaze trailed over your face brieflyā sharp, appraising, uncomfortably stillā made you wonder if he could sense it.
worse, the hum of his voice when he asked if you were ready to start again almost sounded amused.
but no, there was no way.
you nodded numbly, sitting back down as the spiral of your thoughts continued to eat at you little by little.
but then.
chan leaned forward again.
this timeā too close.
close enough that his hands briefly brushed over yours as you reached to grab your pen, the low murmur of breath at your ear turned something in your chest completely upside down.
āfocus,ā he said softly, lips barely tilting upward as his fingers tipped briefly over your notebook.
you staredā stunned, entirely flickered into stasis for just a split half second of hesitation.
the air in chanās apartment felt so much thicker now, way too humid, like something you could taste if you stayed still long enough.
to your credit, you were trying to focus. really, you were.
but focus didnāt come easy when your TAā your stupidly hot, smart, sharp-tongued TAā was sitting across from you with that faint smirk curling on his lips, watching you too closely like heād figured you out already.
maybe he had.
āso,ā chan murmured, snapping you out of your reverie as he slumped ever so slightly further into his chair. you tried your hardest not to track the way his toned thighs stretched against the fabric of his joggers. āyouāve got two choices.ā
ātwo?ā you asked breathlessly, blinking way too fast to feel normal.
he tilted his chin slightly, fingers tapping idly against the table.
āeither you tell me why youāve been sitting there not even pretending to pay attention for the last twenty minutes,ā he started smoothly, āor we call it a day, and i can stop wasting my time.ā
you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from squirming.
that was new.
this wasnāt the calm, teasing chan from the first session. he didnāt even sound annoyed exactly, but there was an edge to his tone now, sharp and slow and cutting enough that you felt trapped.
āiām- i was paying attention,ā you blurted, a little too defensive to sound convincing.
his narrowed gaze told you exactly what he thought about that.
āyou sure about that?ā he asked, leaning forward now.
āyeah,ā you mumbled, voice faltering slightly as he came impossibly close.
his lips curved sharply.
āprove it.ā
the blush reached your ears faster than your brain could process what was happening. āprove it?ā you repeated dumbly, as though the words had somehow dropped straight in from another dimension.
āmm,ā chan hummed lightly, elbows digging into the edge of the table. the sheer confidence radiating from him was unnerving, not over the top, not cocky, but entirely in control.
he tipped his head toward your notebook, his forearms briefly flexing as he gestured for you to pick up the damned pen.
ālast equation,ā he murmured, and you swore the way his voice dropped made your heart skip a beat. āshow me youāve been paying attention this time.ā
unfortunately, there were several factors actively working against you right now.
the first? chan, with his sharp voice and sharper smirk, was close enough to radiate heat, close enough that your knees brushed lightly under the table. the second? there was no fucking way youād been paying enough attention to actually solve the equation in front of you.
your chest grew tighter by the second as you scrambled uselessly to make sense of it.
for a brief moment, he said nothingā just watched you with this lazy, barely interested gaze, his lips pressed into an almost-smile that you couldnāt read.
ācāmon,ā he drawled finally. āyouāve got this, donāt you?ā
the edge of his words made your stomach twist with heat.
surely, he didnāt meanā¦ more than what he was saying, right?
you scribbled down the page as best as you could, desperate and embarrassed as you tried to scrawl out whatever guess felt the least wrong.
but before you could even feign confidence over the partial answer youād written, a hand abruptly darted into your line of vision.
his hand.
chanās fingers curled over the edge of your workbook as he slid it back toward himself, āwrong.ā
your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.
of course it was fucking wrong.
you braced yourself for the usual disappointment or sharp remark. but instead of belittling your work, chan leaned forward again, folding his arms onto the table between you and leaving no room for you to escape his focus.
then, voice low and deliberate, he caught your gaze fully.
āyou donāt even try to hide it anymore, do you?ā
you froze. your face immediately burned. āwhat?ā
āyouāre not here to study,ā he said plainly.
your jaw opened and closed uselessly, and you swore your heart was trying to make an escape straight through your ribs.
āyou wear this,ā chan murmured, his eyes flicking briefly, heatedly, down to the neckline of your fitted top before locking back on yours, āand you expect me not to notice?ā
his words sent a wildfire tearing through your entire body.
you struggled to make sense of it all, to explain yourself, to breathe.
he noticed.
this smoking-hot TA, whom youād been quietly (okay, maybe not so quietly) pining after, noticed. but he didnāt stop there.
chan leaned in further, the confidence practically rolling off of him, and softened his voice even more.
āyouāve got guts, throwing yourself at your TA like this.ā
your entire head was a whirlwind of heat and adrenaline.
chan leaned back in his chair for a moment, still studying you like you were an equation heād already solved in his head.
the glint in his eye left you pinned in placeā and you werenāt sure if it was fear or thrill racing through you when he tilted his head.
āget up.ā
you blinked hard. ā...what?ā
āget up,ā chan repeated, his tone leaving no room for debate this time.
your legs moved before your brain could catch up, your heart racing wildly as you stood in front of him like itād been his implicit command all along.
ādo you want to keep wasting my time?ā he asked, his head tilting slightly, his eyes burning into you like they were stripping you bare.
ān-no,ā you stammered.
āthen prove it,ā he said with maddening calm. his voice was low but full with that commanding edge that kept sending waves of heat to your core.
you opened your mouth uncertainly, but before you could respond, his gaze dropped, gesturing down toward his lap.
and fuck, if that didnāt make your entire foundation shift.
the stretch of his thighs, the bulge visible against the gray of his joggers, the way his legs flexed as he spread them slightly farther apart.
your mouth went dry.
he noticed.
your face burned brighter than ever, your brain scrambling for some rational excuse to back away, but when chan raised an eyebrow at you again, the composure you were grasping at crumbled entirely.
āget on your knees,ā he ordered softly.
you were moving before you could thinkā sinking to the floor, legs folding beneath you as your breaths came out shaky and uneven.
chan wasted no time once you dropped.
āso eager,ā he muttered, leaning forward slightly to slip off his sweats. the faint tug of a smirk played on his lips again. ābet youāve been thinking about this for weeks, huh?ā
you swallowed, lips parting slightly as your eyes stayed glued to him.
āletās see if that mouth is as good as i think it is, then.ā
chan spread his legs wider, his joggers now halfway down as his thick cock strained hard under the fabric of his boxers, the outline of it clear enough to make your mouth water.
your eyes tracked the movement as his large hand casually palmed himself through the fabric, letting out a soft grunt as the pressure of his hand teased a bit of relief. he wasnāt even looking at youā his gaze was tilted lazily downward, like he was letting you take in the view. like he wanted you to be as desperate as you clearly were.
āyouāre really something, you know,ā he muttered, low and taunting, the air between you so tense you could barely breathe. āacting all shy, pretending youāve been here to study. but thisāā his hand rolled against himself once more, squeezing as he finally dragged his eyes back to yours. āthis is what youāve been wanting, huh?ā
you couldnāt even think about lying. you just nodded, staying seated on your knees. ā...yes.ā
that brought another smirk to his lips, one that only deepened as he started to slip his boxers down, letting his cock spring free.
fuck. youād expected him to be big because, wellā¦ of course he was. everything about him was big. his confidence, his presence, his personality. but knowing it and seeing it were two entirely different things.
he was thick, the head a flushed pink and leaking with so much pre that it glistened just faintly in the low kitchen light.
āeyes up here, sweetheart.ā
your gaze snapped up immediately, and his mouth twitched again as he caught you.
āif you wanna use that mouth,ā he murmured, tone rougher now, āyouāre gonna have to ask nicely.ā
you werenāt even sure how you were still alive at this point, let alone speaking, but the words stumbled out anyway in a breathless jumble of need.
āplease,ā you begged, barely above a whisper. āplease. i wannaāā your breath hitched as his cock twitched when you said it, making your chest blaze with heat. āi wanna suck your cock, chan. please.ā
he tilted his head, watching you closely for a few suffocating seconds before leaning back in his seat and resting one arm lazily along the table.
āgo ahead,ā he said finally. āshow me what youāve got.ā
you didnāt need to be told twice. your hands shot up, tentative at first, but steadying as your fingers curled around the base of his length. the warmth of his skin and the weight of his cock in your hand made you fucking lightheaded.
you gave him a few experimental strokes, and the faint grunt he let outā mild as it wasā felt like a goddamn reward.
āthatās it,ā he muttered, almost absent-minded, like he was observing you while thinking a million other things at the same time. ādonāt be shy now.ā
you ducked your head down, tongue darting out to swipe the bead of pre-cum glistening at his tip. just that one tiny taste had your body heating up everywhere at once, floating deliriously between desperation and excitement as you opened your mouth further to glide him in.
he groaned softly as your lips stretched around him, his other hand coming up to rest lightly at the back of your head.
āfuck,ā he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening just a little as you took more of him into your mouth. ājust like that. good girl.ā
the praise hit you like a freight train.
the warm weight of him in your mouth, the salty taste of his skin on your tongueā it was already too much, your thighs instinctively pressing together with each muffled moan and wet sound you made.
ādeeper,ā chan ordered, his tone growing rougher now, sharper, and that alone was enough to set your skin burning like fire.
you let him guide you down further with the hand still resting on the back of your head, his cock sliding over your tongue until it was stretching your throat enough to make your eyes water.
āthatās it,ā he groaned again, his voice raspy now. āfuck, youāve got such a pretty mouth. keep going- donāt stop until you make me cum.ā
his words shot straight through your stomach, sending shockwaves of heat pooling between your legs as you bobbed your head, hollowing out your cheeks until he groaned louder.
āyou like that, huh?ā he said, his grip tightening as a clear bite sharpened his tone. ālook at you. so desperate to please me. so desperate to get your TA to cum down your throat.ā
you moaned softly at his words, your sounds muffled and messy as you worked your mouth around him, each stroke sinking deeper and deeper.
āshit,ā chan hissed, his hips jerking slightly as his cock filled you again and again. āyouāre too fucking good at this.ā
you barely registered the filthy compliment over the blood rushing through your ears, your focus narrowed to the ragged sounds leaving his mouth as his composure began to slip.
his grip on your head tightened just slightly, enough to keep you in place as his hips rocked forward once, twiceā fucking gently into your mouth like he needed to feel you take him even deeper.
āgonna cum,ā he grunted, more ragged now as his movements stuttered. āfuck, sweetheart. take it all.ā
before you could even think to react, chan groaned low and deep, his head tipping back as heavy spurts of his release shot down your throat. the taste flooded your mouth immediately, thick and milky ropes as you swallowed everything he gave you without hesitation.
his chest heaved as his hips sank back slightly, his grip finally easing from the back of your head.
āholy shit,ā he muttered under his breath, a faint laugh pushing out with his exhale as his hand tipped briefly under your chin, guiding your face back up toward him.
you stared up at him, your lips slightly swollen and humiliatingly wet, and the sight alone pulled another satisfied smirk from his mouth.
āsuch a good little thing,ā he murmured, his thumb brushing briefly across your cheekbone.
you swallowed again, your cheeks heating at the praise, but any words you couldāve said were immediately lost when chan shifted in his chair, suddenly leaning forward.
āyou didnāt think we were done, did you?ā
your stomach flipped entirely.
his hands moved fast, steady as they guided you to your feet before nudging you gently against the corner of the table. it wasnāt until heād sunk to his knees in front of you that your brain finally caught up.
āchanāā you started, but the sound broke off entirely as his hands sliced up under the hem of your skirt, pushing the fabric up toward your hips.
āquiet,ā he murmured, his lips brushing faintly against your thigh when he lowered his head. ālet me show you how much better this can feel when you let me do all the work.ā
your knees nearly gave out, your breath hitching sharply in your chest as his hands gripped firmly at your thighs.
before you could even brace yourself, chan had slipped your panties down in one smooth movement, leaving you bare and completely at his mercy.
āfuck,ā he muttered softly, almost like he was speaking to himselfāhis thumb brushing faintly against your inner thigh as his head tipped downward, his lips hovering just over your now impossibly wet cunt. āyouāre already dripping for me. pathetic little thing.ā
you whimpered as his tongue darted out to taste you, his movements slow, deliberate, clearly reveling in every sound leaving your mouth.
he started soft, dragging lazy circles against you that made heat pulse low in your stomach, but it didnāt take long for him to pick up the pace.
his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking sharply before your knees buckled. he growled against you, his arm curling around the back of your leg to keep you locked firmly into place.
ānot going anywhere,ā he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. āgonna make you cum just like this. ruin you on my tongue.ā
you moaned, your head falling back as one of your hands flew to grip the edge of the table for balance while the other curled uselessly into his hair. his dark eyes flickered up to you, sharp and direct, and fuck if that wasnāt worse.
ālook at you,ā he murmured, barely pausing to speak as his tongue sank deeper against you. āyouāre so desperate you canāt even stand.ā
you whimpered harder as he slid a single digit inside of you, pumping slowly at first before curlingā learning exactly where to aim before adding a second and setting you completely on fire.
āfuck- chan, iāā
āthatās right,ā he groaned against you, his pace only increasing with each ragged sound leaving your mouth. ācum for me. now.ā
and when your orgasm hitā sharp and sudden and impossibly strongā you cried out, your legs nearly shaking from the pressure as chanās hands steadied you through it, chasing your high relentlessly.
your legs were still trembling, completely jelly when chan pulled back from between your thighs, his lips glistening in a way that should have been absolutely illegal.
he looked sinfully smug as he rose to his full height, towering over you now as you practically slumped against the table. your chest heaved, your body still tingling from the orgasm heād just ripped out of you, and yetā¦ it wasnāt enough.
you wanted more. needed more.
and chan? chan could see it written all over your face.
ālook at this mess,ā he murmured, his deep voice carrying a mix of pride and mockery. his hand reached out, the pad of his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. āsuch a needy little thing. youāre not even satisfied after cumming all over my tongue, are you?ā
you shook your head slightly, biting your lip and meeting his eyes with that same look heād teased you for earlierā desperation. hunger.
his gaze dragged down to where your panties now hung uselessly around your ankle.
āyou want me to fuck you that badly, huh?ā
you nodded, no hesitation this timeā your pride was long gone anyway. āplease,ā you whispered, your voice small and trembling.
that was all it took.
chanās demeanor changed into something darker, something more dangerous, as he grabbed your hips and spun you around in one swift movement until your ass pressed against the cold edge of the table. before you could even catch your own breath, his lips were on you. hot, firm, and overwhelming as he kissed you like his life depended on it.
you moaned into his mouth, arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer, his body slotting perfectly against yours. his hand slipped up under your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist before he yanked it off entirely, tossing it somewhere behind him.
āfuck,ā he muttered into your mouth. āyouāre so fucking perfect.ā
his hands found your tits next, slipping underneath your bra and squeezing hard, groaning as his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples.
āthese fucking tits,ā he rasped, his voice dropping an octave as his lips moved against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck. ābeen dying to get my hands on them. watching you in those tight little tops, tempting me every fucking second.ā
you gasped when he suddenly tugged down the cups of your bra and latched his mouth onto one of your nipples, his wet tongue flicking over it before sucking hard.
āfuck, chan,ā you moaned, your back arching instinctively into him.
he pulled back just enough to grin up at you, his lips shining with spit. āyou like that, baby?ā he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. āneedy thing like you just lives for attention, huh?ā
you nodded again, words completely failing you as he let his hands slide lower.
without warning, chan hoisted you up onto the table, his strong hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks as he pulled you to the edge. the cool surface pressed against your skin, a direct contrast to the liquid heat pooling between your legs. he yanked you to the edge effortlessly, spreading you out for him like you belonged there.
āstay right there,ā he ordered, his lips ghosting over yours briefly before he stepped back to slide his boxers down fully, his cock springing free again and making your stomach twist with anticipation.
āyouāve been begging for this since the first day you showed up to my office hours,ā he continued, his voice rough and low as he stroked himself slowly, his gaze locked on you like he wanted to eat you alive. āand now youāre gonna take it. every. fucking. inch.ā
you whimpered, squirming on the table, because he was right. the need had been eating you alive, every accidental graze of his hand or brush of his shoulder only fueling the fire until you couldnāt see straight. your breath caught as he grabbed your thighs again, spreading you wide for him, his cock brushing against your entrance.
āfucking dripping,ā chan growled under his breath, almost to himself as he dragged the tip through your wetness, spreading it messily. ādonāt worry, baby. iāll fill you up so good, there wonāt even be room to think about anyone else.ā
before you could process those words, he pushed in.
the stretch was immediate, a maddening burn that teetered on the brink of pain and unbearable pleasure. he was bigā so thick, so fucking big it felt like he was splitting you open, inch by inch, pushing so deep your mind went blank.
āoh my goddāā you gasped, throwing your head back as your hands scrambled for leverage, gripping his shoulders like your life depended on it. your thighs trembled as he pressed forward relentlessly, not stopping till his hips were flush against yours and every inch of him was crammed inside you, his cock filling you so completely it felt like he was rearranging you from the inside out.
āgod,ā chan groaned, his cock pulsing as your walls clenched hard around him like a vice. his head dropped forward, and he growled low in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, pinning you in place. āyouāre so fucking tight. gripping me like you donāt want me to pull out. youāre greedy for it, arenāt you?ā
you moaned weakly, unable to form coherent words, too overwhelmed by the way he stretched you, by the way your pussy wouldnāt stop fluttering and sucking him in even deeper. a lewd, wet squelch filled the air as he shifted his hips, pulling out just slightly before easing back in.
āthereee it is,ā he growled, his dark eyes watching your face intently as your lips parted with a choked gasp. his thumb brushed over your bottom lip almost gently, ātaking me so fucking good, baby. like you were made for me. made to take this cock.ā
your nails clawed at his back, leaving angry red trails as he began to move in earnest. he pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the thick head of his cock stretching your entrance, before slamming back in with enough force to send your whole body jolting backward. the table creaked, but chanās pace never faltered.
āfuck- chanāā you sobbed, each thrust punching the air out of your lungs. your thighs quivered uncontrollably as his cock dragged over every sensitive spot inside you, hitting so deep it felt impossible. shame burned low in your stomach with every wet squelch that escaped from between your legs, echoing obscenely in the room, but he only groaned louder at the sound.
āgonna make you scream, baby,ā he rasped, his tone rough and uneven as he pounded harder, faster, his grip on your body so tight it felt like you were fused together. āgonna make sure this pussy remembers me. so tight, fuck. can feel you dripping all over me- you hear that? thatās how fucking bad you want it.ā
all ou could do was nod, your brain too fogged with pleasure to string together a response. your body was limp against him, letting him use you how he wantedā and god, it felt so good. you clenched around him on instinct, the raw pressure of him stretching you bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every brutal thrust.
ālook at you,ā chan muttered filthily, his hand coming up to grip your jaw as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. āso fucking wrecked already, and iām not even done yet. you like this? having my cock splitting you open like this?ā
āyesyes- fuck, yesāā you babbled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pressure, the intensity, the sheer, overwhelming fullness.
āthatās my girl,ā he growled, shifting his grip to your throat, his fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. āyouāre mine now. you hear me? no one else gets to fuck you like this. no one else gets to make you cum.ā
his words unraveled something deep inside you, sending molten heat racing down your spine to your core. when his thumb slipped down between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, the coil tightening in your belly snapped with brutal force.
āmmpph- chan- ām gonna- iāmāā
ādo it,ā he snarled, his cock slamming into you without mercy as his thumb worked faster. āfucking cum all over me. let me feel this pussy milk my cock.ā
the words sent you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm ripped through you violently. your entire body tensed as waves of pleasure crashed over you, so powerful it felt unending. you cried out his name shamelessly, your walls clamping down around him so tight he cursed loudly, his thrusts becoming erratic.
āshitshiit- fuck- youāre gonna make meāā chan groaned, and a second later he buried himself deep inside you with one final thrust, his hips grinding against yours as he came hard. he filled you with hot, thick spurts of his cum, so much you swore you felt it flooding you completely, dripping from where you were still stretched around him. his head fell to the crook of your neck as he groaned low and broken, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.
for a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of harsh breathing and your heart pounding in your ears. chan pressed messy, lingering kisses to the damp skin of your shoulder as his hands wandered down your body, soothing the marks his grip had left behind.
ādid so good for me,ā he eventually, his lips brushing against your temple as he leaned up just enough to press a kiss to your swollen lips. āso fucking perfect.ā
+
chan didnāt let you move for a long time after that.
he insisted on cleaning you up himself, holding you gently as if youād break if he touched you too hard now. it was a stark contrast to the man who had just fucked you into oblivion minutes earlier, but the shift made your heart ache in the best way.
and as he kissed you softly, whispering how beautiful you were, how proud he was of you for taking him so well, you felt something else settle deep in your chest.
this wasnāt just a onetime thing anymore.
not the way chan kissed you like he didnāt want to stop. not the way he held you like you mattered everything to him.
this man wasnāt going anywhereā and you werenāt, either.
it made you laugh, softly, almost deliriously, as he pulled you into his lap again.
āwhatās so funny?ā he asked, tilting his head curiously.
ānothing,ā you murmured, your lips curving upward. ājustā¦ funny how i was losing my mind over finding condoms in your bathroom cabinet when... you didnāt even use them.ā
chan blinked at you, then snorted with laughter, pulling you tighter against him.
ādonāt need them,ā he said simply, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his fingers traced lazy patterns against your bare back. ānot with you. never with you.ā
you smiled, warmth spreading through your chest as you curled into him, completely at peace.
your grades were safe. your heart was safe. and chan?
chan looked at you like no one else in the world would ever come close.
or: oh great. your roommate bailed on you right before the new month's payment, and you need to find a new roommate asap. lucky for you, chan came (literally) to your rescue. he's charming enough, and more importantly, pays rent on time. you've agreed to split rent by half, but rent won't be the only thing getting split in half, because he's hiding a big secret. and no, not just the one in his pants.
warnings: MDNI!!! contains heavy sexual content, camboy!chris x roommate!reader, porn with some plot, perv!reader, masturbation, piv, mÄnhandling, spÄnkĆÆng, hÄirpulling, too many kinks , kinda switch!chan but he's mostly a dom daddy dwdw, I'm a cocky chan truther so yk what's coming, a sprinkle of fluff and banter.
wc: 11k
a/n: loosely based off this drabble
"You're fucking kidding me." You stare at the text message. Three sentences that might as well be a bomb dropped in the middle of your living room.
Hey, sorry for the short notice, but Iām moving in with my boyfriend at the end of the week.
I know rentās due soon, but I kinda already spent my half on the security deposit for our new place.
Good luck finding someone else!
shit
Rent is due in nine days, and your bank account isnāt exactly overflowing.
Youāve never lived alone before. Couldnāt afford it even if you wanted to. And the thought of scrambling to find a new roommate in a week makes your stomach twist.
You're halfway through drafting a frantic "roommate needed ASAP" text to your groupchat when your phone buzzes.
it's one of your few friends who actually bothers to check in.
Heard about your roomie bailing. Absolute bullshit.
Anyway I know a guy. Chill as hell, works freelance, needs a place.
You'd vibe.
You hesitate, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The last thing you want is some rando bringing chaos into your already crumbling life.
But then your landlord's terse "rent due on the 1st, no exceptions" text flashes in your mind.
Fine. Give him my number.
Chan texts you thirty minutes later. His messages are polite. Full sentences, proper punctuation, none of that monosyllabic grunting.
He suggests meeting at the apartment tomorrow afternoon to check the place out, and you agree.
The next day, you're scrubbing the bathroom sink when the doorbell rings. Chan stands in the hallway holding a paper bag that smells like garlic and herbs. "Figured we could talk over lunch," he says, smiling like this isn't weird at all.
Up close, he's so much cuter than you expected, blond hair, unfairly big broad shoulders, dressed in a blank tanktop that showed them off perfectly.
You blink at the take out bag, then at Chanās easy grin.
Thereās no nervous energy radiating off him, no awkward shuffling ā just this unsettling calm, like heās already decided he belongs here. āUh,ā you say, wiping your damp hands on your pants, āyou didnāt have toāā
āI know,ā he interrupts, already toeing off his sneakers without waiting for an invite. The scent of roasted garlic and rosemary spills into the apartment as he breezes past you toward the kitchen. āBut food makes everything less weird, right?ā
You trail after him, you don't know whether to be annoyed or charmed.
Chan unpacks the food containers, grilled chicken, some kind of herby rice, roasted vegetables that donāt look like the sad microwave steam bags you usually survive on.
He slides a plate toward you. āEat first, then interrogation.ā
āInterrogation?ā You stab a piece of chicken, watching him warily.
Chan shrugs, mouth already full. āStandard roommate shit. āDo you snore?ā āAre you a serial killer?ā āWill you steal my leftovers?āā He swallows, grinning.
āThe answerās no, no, and only if you leave them unlabelled.ā
The food is homemade stupidly good, and Chanās presence isā¦ unsettlingly comfortable.
By the time youāre scraping the last of the rice off your plate, youāve learned he does something vague with digital marketing (āBasically, I convince people to buy shit they donāt needā), he actually enjoys doing laundry, and he likes to cook.
āSo,ā Chan says, stacking the empty containers, āyou wanna show me around, or should I just start claiming drawers?ā
The tour is quick ā your apartment isnāt exactly sprawling ā but Chan makes appreciative noises at the closet space and tests how sturdy the bed frame is (#whatdatmean).
When you hesitantly mention rent, he waves a hand. āHalfās fine. Iāll pay first and last upfront if you want.ā
You stare. āYou donāt even know the amount.ā
Chan shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter āDoesnāt matter. Iāve got it.ā He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and, before you can protest, your own phone buzzes with a notification.
Itās a Venmo payment for double what you were about to say rent costs.
Your mouth opens, then closes. āYouāwhat? Thatās too much.ā
āNah.ā He pockets his phone, grinning at your baffled expression. āConsider it a āsorry for being weirdly pushyā. ā
You donāt argue. You canāt argue ā not when your bank account is currently breathing its first sigh of relief in months.
A girls got priorities, and he doesn't really seem to mind. it's a win win scenario.
~
The first month wasā¦ strange. Not bad, just strange. he was genuinely nice, easy to talk to. it wasn't long till the initial awkwardness ā if there was any ā wore off. you'd become something sort of friends, and both of you settled into a quiet rhythm.
he'd left cash for rent in a neat stack on the kitchen counter on first of the month, slightly more than his half again.
When you tried to give him the extra back, he just waved you off.
You caught glimpses of his routine. disappearing into his room at odd hours, the low murmur of his voice through the walls late at night.
And then there was the day you came home early.
You werenāt supposed to be back until ten, but your shift ended early, and the bus was miraculously on time for once.
The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, just the hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under your feet.
Youād barely set your bag down when you heard it ā a low noise from Chanās room.
Your fingers froze on the zipper of your jacket. The sound came again, breathier this time, followed by the slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin.
you thought it was a girlfriend he never told you about.
The idea punched a weird, hollow ache into your ribs ā which was stupid, because itās not like you had any claim on him.
Still, you stood there frozen in the hallway, his door slightly ajar, listening to the sounds of his pleasure like some kind of creep.
You backed out of the apartment, easing the door shut with just the softest whisper of the latch catching. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you ducked into the stairwell, pressing your back against the cool concrete wall.
The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop being weird, to just walk back in like a normal person. But the irrational part ā the part currently in charge ā was too busy replaying the sounds spilling from Chanās room to listen.
You get out of the building and circle the block twice, three times, counting cracks in the sidewalk. The air smells like rain that hasnāt fallen yet, and you bask in that atmosphere till roughly an hour has passed.
When you finally drag yourself back inside, the apartment is quiet. Chanās door is shut tight, the shower running, and no girlfriend in sight.
she must've left early.
You freeze halfway to your room when the shower shuts off. your feet are planted still go to your room, go to your room
but you weren't quick enough, and a few seconds later, Chan emerges with only a towel slung low on his hips.
He's startled when he sees you, droplets flicking off his hair as he jerks his head up. āoh heyāā His voice is casual before you cut him off, "shitāsorry!" your face heats up at the sight, your eyes wander, trailing down his toned chest that still had water droplets running down, before snapping your head in the other direction.
was he always this muscular?
and you can't help but notice that there are no hickeys on his neck, no marks on his arms, and surprisingly put together for someone who just had his girlfriend over less than an hour ago.
"no noā you're good." he reassures with a smile, "you're back early."
You swallow hard. āYeah. Shift got cut."
Chan leans against the doorframe, his damp hair curling at the ends. You try not to stare at the way his towel clings precariously to his hips, but your gaze keeps flicking downward anyway, betraying you.
"Everything okay?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.
"Y-yeah," you stammer, fingers twisting in the hem of your jacket. "Justāuh. Busy day."
Chan hums, nodding. His eyes flick over your face, lingering a second too long on your flushed cheeks before he grins. "Cool. I was just gonna make some food if youāre hungry."
The casual offer throws you off. You were expecting ā what? Awkward silence? Averted eyes? Not this easy warmth.
but you just nod dumbly. "Yeah. Food sounds good."
he pushes off the doorframe, padding toward the kitchen. The towel rides up slightly with each step, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones, and you have to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise.
āYou good?ā he calls over his shoulder, like he can feel your stare burning into his back.
āFine,ā you squeak, following at a safe distance, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. The kitchen tile is cool under your socked feet, a welcome distraction from the heat crawling up your neck.
Chan hums again, rummaging through the fridge with one hand while the other keeps his towel secured. The muscles in his back flex as he leans forward, and youāre suddenly very interested in the color of your sponge bob socks.
āLeftover pasta okay?ā he asks, pulling out a container with a rattle of plastic. You nod mutely, watching as he moves around the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the tiles.
The stove clicks to life, the hiss of gas filling the silence between you. Chan leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, āSo,ā he starts, āhow was work?ā
You blink. āUh. Fine. Boring.ā The words tumble out too fast, your pulse jumping when Chan chuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly youāre hyperaware of every inch of space between you.
he scrapes the leftover pasta into the pan, the sizzle of garlic and butter filling the silence between you. His towel shifts dangerously low with each stir, but he doesnāt seem to notice ā or maybe he does.
The corner of his mouth twitches when he catches you staring, and you snap your gaze to the ceiling like itās suddenly fascinating.
"You know," he says, voice light, "most roommates donāt freak out when they see each other half dressed." The wooden spoon clinks against the pan as he scrapes the edges.
"I wasnāt freaking out."
Chan laughs, "You literally yelped like I pulled a knife on you." He glances over his shoulder, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes your knees weak. "Unless youāre into that."
The pasta sizzles loudly in the pan, drowning out the choked sound that escapes your throat at Chanās words. "Iāthatās notā"
Chan turns fully now, abandoning the stove, and the towel dips dangerously low. His smirk is infuriating, "Relax," he murmurs, stepping closer, "Just teasing."
You laugh nervously, the sound too high pitched, too obvious. "I'm just gonnaā" You jerk your thumb toward your room, already backing away. "Change into something more... home-y."
Chan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Home-y,"
"yeaā!" your voice cracks "y'know comfortable....home clothes"
Then you gesture vaguely at his towel, your voice cracking slightly. "Are youā uh, gonna put on actual clothes before we eat? Because I'm pretty sure health code violations apply to apartments too."
Chan glances down at himself, then back up at you, "Why?" He grins, tilting his head. "Distracted?"
"Yesāno," you sputter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest like armor. "I just donāt want yourā" You wave a hand wildly in the general direction of his hips. "Thatānear my dinner."
Chan laughs, a full blown laugh, and you take that chance to bolt for your room, shoulders hunched as if thatāll make you smaller, less noticeable.
The door clicks shut behind you with a click, and you press your forehead against the cool wood, exhaling sharply.
"And turn the heat down!" you call out, voice too high,"Unless you want to burn the house down!"
Another laugh, muffled through the door. "Yes, mom," Chan drawls, the playful lilt in his voice making your cheeks burn hotter.
The stove clicks as he adjusts the flame, the sound followed by the soft thud of his footsteps padding down the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to the creak of his bedroom door, the rustle of fabric as he presumably ā finally ā changes.
You peel yourself off the door, fingers fumbling at the jacket of your shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with nervous sweat, and you wrestle it off.
Home-y. Right. who even says that?
Stupid stupid stupid.
Your dresser drawer sticks halfway open, You grab the first shirt your fingers brush against, soft from too many washes, and a pair of sweatpants with the elastic stretched out.
'He has a girlfriend,' you think, shimmying out of your jeans. The denim catches around your ankles, nearly causing you to trip.
'Probably. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.'
You yank the shirt over your head so hard the neckline stretches. The mirror across the room reflects your flushed face, your hair mussed from the fabric dragging through it.
You look and feel ridiculous.
You pull up your pants, then pause, fingers hovering at the waistband. Avoid him. Simple. Logical. You can do that.
but it wasn't that easy. after all there is only so much avoiding one could do to someone they live with.
The apartment isnāt big enough for elaborate evasion tactics, and Chan seems to have a sixth sense for popping up exactly where you donāt want him.
Leaning against the fridge when youāre raiding it at 2 am, or lounging on the couch just as youāre about to claim it for a late night tv binge.
So you just ended up being cooped in your room for most of the day.
But Chan isnāt stupid. eventually after days passed by, heās leaning against your bedroom doorframe when you crack it open after what you thought was a safe half hour of silence.
āSo,ā he says, arms crossed, voice dripping with amusement, āyouāre avoiding me.ā
You freeze, one socked foot hovering mid step like a cartoon character caught mid sneak. āNo,ā you lie too quickly.
Chan raises an eyebrow. āYou literally just ducked into the bathroom because you heard me coming down the hall.ā
āI had to pee.ā
āFor the fourth time today?ā His grin lopsided, āEither youāve got a UTI, or youāre full of shit.ā
You grit your teeth, fingers tightening around the doorknob. āMaybe both.ā
he sighs out laugh, then steps closer, āListen,ā he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious tone, āif this is about the whole towel thingāā
āItās not,ā you answer quickly, too loud, too fast.
āSo it is about the towel thing.ā
āIām notāā You exhale sharply through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. āCan you justāā You gesture vaguely at the space between you. āGive me, like, a three foot radius?ā
Chan tilts his head, considering. His gaze drags down your body, before settling back on your face. āNah,ā he says finally, āI like you flustered.ā
You bite your lip, eyes darting around, then settle on his, before darting around again.
The silence stretches, until you finally crack under the weight of it. āyouādonāt you have a girlfriend?ā you blurt, the words stumbling out in a rushed, stuttering mess.
Chan blinks, his smirk faltering for half a second before dissolving into genuine confusion. āA what?ā His laugh sounds startled, almost disbelieving.
You press your lips together, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.
Chan's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, "A girlfriend?" He repeats, "What, like, some theoretical girl who sneaks in when you're not looking?"
You gesture vaguely at him ā the tousled hair, the unfairly sculpted shoulders, the effortless charm that clings to him like a second skin.
"You justāseem like the type." The words tumble out half mumbled, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.
Chanās laughter echoes through the hallway, loud enough that you flinchānot just from the sound, but from the way it makes your stomach flip.
"Oh my god," he wheezes, leaning against the doorframe like he needs the support. "You thought I had some secret girlfriend sneaking in here toāwhat, fuck me while you're at work?"
You cross your arms tightly, "It's not that ridiculous," you mutter, but even you hear how weak it sounds.
"First of all, if I had a girlfriend, you'd know. I'm not subtle." His smirk tilts into something teasing. "Second, I'm very single. And thirdā" He pauses, tilting his head. "Wait. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was getting laid in there and didn't invite you?"
Your face burns. "Noāthat's notā"
His grin softens slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesnāt fade. "So," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "what is it, then?"
You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of your shirt so tightly the fabric threatens to tear. "Nothing," you lie. "Justāroommate stuff. Boundaries."
Chan hums, "Boundaries," he echoes, Then, "You know you can just tell me if Iām doing something that makes you uncomfortable, right?"
You swallow hard, "Yeah," you mutter, gaze trailing to his eyes and holding his stare for the first time throughout this conversation "I know."
Chan pushes off the doorframe with a shrug, "Alright then," he says, clapping his hands together like he's wiping the whole conversation away. "Takeout time. You in?"
it's like all this man does is think about food...and make you weak in the knees.
You blink, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."
Chan pulls out his phone, already scrolling through delivery apps, "Thai? Or that new Italian place that opened down the street?" He glances up, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless you're feeling sushi again, but last time you complained about the wasbi being too strong."
The normalcy of it ā the way he remembers your stupid, offhand complaints about condiments ā makes something in your chest tighten.
You clear your throat. "Thaiās good."
~
The weirdness fades slowly, chan doesnāt mention the girlfriend comment again, and you stop bolting like a startled deer every time he walks into a room.
He starts leaving his door open when heās working, the rhythmic tap of his keyboard drifting into the hallway. You catch yourself lingering in the doorway sometimes, watching the way his brow furrows when heās concentrating, the way he bites his tongue when heās stuck on something.
once, he catches you staring and pats the space beside him on the bed without looking up from his laptop. āHelp me brainstorm this dumb tagline,ā
You perch awkwardly at first, careful not to touch him, but Chan sprawls like he owns every inch of the mattress, his thigh pressing warm against yours. and before you know it, youāre leaning into him, pointing at the screen. āThat oneās terrible,ā
~
Movie nights become a thing.
The first movie night starts by accident ā or at least, thatās what you tell yourself. Youāre curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked under your chin, scrolling through your phone while Chan sprawls across the other end, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs.
Then the Wi-Fi cuts out.
Chan groans, tossing his head back against the cushions. āFucking landlord,ā he mutters, jabbing at his keyboard like itāll magically fix the connection.
You snort, watching him glare at the screen like itās personally offended him. āGuess weāre gonna have to talk to each other,ā
āHorrifying,ā he deadpans, then grabs the remote off the coffee table. āa movie it is.ā
You end up with some terrible action movie Chan insists is a āclassic,ā but neither of you pay much attention. Halfway through, you catch him watching you instead of the screen, his head turning back to the movie when you caught him.
You brush it off, focusing on the screen, but your pulse jumps when Chan shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours.
The credits roll, and he stretches. The couch creaks as he shifts, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that does things to your already frayed nerves.
"Well," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, "that was a cinematic masterpiece."
You snort, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, if you consider explosions and zero plot development masterful storytelling."
Chanās chuckles āPlot is overrated,ā he says, āSometimes you just wanna watch things blow up.ā
Chan then exhales heavily and stands. āAlright, Iām hitting the shower,ā he says, stretching until his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You look away ā too late ā and Chanās smirk is audible in his voice. āTry not to miss me too much.ā
āIn your dreams,ā you mutter, but your pulse jumps when he pauses by the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder.
āYeah,ā he says softly, almost to himself. āExactly.ā
You sit there, frozen, until the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running. The sound of water hitting tile fills the apartment, and you press your palms to your overheated cheeks, exhaling sharply.
Stupid. Youāre being stupid. That probably didn't mean anything.
But then your phone buzzes on the couch beside you, and Chanās name lights up the screen.
forgot my towel. mind grabbing it?
You stare at the message, then at the hallway, Trap, your brain supplies helpfully.
type back,
Seriously?
he answers immediately
dead serious. iām vulnerable here.
You groan, dragging a hand down your face, but youāre already standing. His towel hangs on the back of his bedroom door, You grab it, then walk out to the bathroom.
You knock once, then freeze when Chan calls out, āJust come in.ā
Your throat goes dry. āAbsolutely not.ā
Chanās laugh echoes off the tiles. āRelax, Iām decent.ā A pause. āMostly.ā
you squeeze your eyes shut, then shove the towel through the gap in the door, arm outstretched as far as possible. āHere.ā
Chanās fingers brush yours as he takes the towel. His skin is warm, damp, and you jerk your hand back like youāve been burned.
āThanks,ā he murmurs, voice closer than you expected. You can *feel* his smile through the door. āYouāre a lifesaver.ā
You bolt back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.
too much for your first movie night.
~
just when things were getting normal, It happens again on a monday.
Youāre home early again, the apartment is silent. You toe off your shoes, and you were about to shout a "I'm back" when you heard it again.
Low, breathy moans slipping through the crack in Chanās door.
Your feet root to the floor, ears straining as the noise curls around you.
His voice, thick with pleasure, murmurs something you canāt quite catch ā then a wet, rhythmic sound that sends heat flooding your cheeks.
apparently, this man takes his....alone time very seriously.
that's what it had to be right? you can't blame him ā you've been there once or twice.
Your breath sticks in your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The soundā god, the sound ā wraps around you, thick and heady, Chan's voice breaking on a moan that scrapes down your spine.
You should move. should bolt to your room, slam the door, drown it out with headphones. but your feet refuse to cooperate.
You tiptoe into the hallway, his door is cracked just enough, and your pulse hammers so loud its drowning out any other coherent thought in your brain.
A peak wouldn't hurt...
The door creaks faintly as it opens another inch, just enough for you to see.
Chan sits on the edge of his bed, but not like you thought. Not hidden, not private. No, this is something else entirely.
A ring light casts a glow over his bare skin, the camera propped on his desk angled perfectly to capture every inch of him. His laptop screen is open with a reflection of him and a rapid stream of comments too fast to read.
Oh.
Oh god.
Your stomach drops, then tightens all at once.
Chanās head is tipped back, his throat working around a groan as his hand moves lazily between his thighs.
You press yourself against the hallway wall, pulse hammering, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour.
you did not expect this.
His breath hitches, a sharp, punched out sound, and your nails dig into your palms.
Chanās fingers twist at the base of his cock, his thumb smearing precum in slow circles. The camera catches the way his abs flex as he arches into his own touch, his voice ragged when he murmurs, "Wish you were here." before he bites down on his lower lip. "Could use a mouth right now."
You watch, frozen in place, as his thighs tremble, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside him. The comments on his screen blur into a frenzy of emojis and a bunch of pinging donations. His breath stutters, his jaw clenching as his strokes turn erratic, desperate. āYeah,ā he gasps, voice breaking, āyeah, just like thatāā
Then he comes with a choked moan, stripes of white painting his stomach as his back arches off the bed.
Gosh, heās gorgeous ā and you barely register the dampness between your own thighs until Chan slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving.
Chan exhales sharply, his fingers still lazily stroking his softening cock as he leans forward, just enough to tap something on his laptop.
he ends the stream with a wink and a low, raspy comment that you didn't quite catch. The screen goes black, and you barely have half a second to process the situation before your body kicks into motion.
You bolt down the hallway, socked feet silent against the hardwood.
Your bedroom door clicks shut behind you just as Chan gets up. You press your back against the door, lungs burning from holding your breath, and listen.
Water runs in the sink. A towel rustles. Then you hear footsteps.
They pause outside your door.
You purse your lips and hold your breath. Then Chan hums, before his footsteps retreat down the hall.
You slump against the door, exhaling shakily.
Holy shit.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you fumble to pull it out.
you home early?
You stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. Lie, your brain screams. Tell him no. but then how would you fake going into the apartment if you're already inside the apartment?
Just got back
You hit send before you can second guess it.
Cool. Dinner soon?
Your fingers hover over the screen, the weight of his question pressing against your ribs like a stone. The air in your room feels ā too thick ā and suddenly the idea of sitting across from Chan at the kitchen table, pretending you didnāt just watch him get off on camera, makes your stomach twist.
Gonna shower first.
Your phone buzzes again before you can even set it down,
Can I join?
You nearly drop it, blood roaring in your ears. Thenā
jk. donāt use up all the hot water.
You toss your phone onto your bed and drag a hand down your face with a sigh.
You're deeply fucked.
~
That night, you stayed up aggressively googling him till his page came up.
Onlychans? really?
you'd laugh at the username if it wasn't for the videos that popped up when you clicked on his profile.
Chan, shirtless, sprawled across what is unmistakably your living room couch, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweatpants.
Chan, biting his lip as he slicks lube down his cock, the camera angled to capture every twitch of his abs.
Chan, moaning, his head thrown back against the pillows of his bed āyour apartment, your shared space ā while his other hand works something thick and glistening into hisā
You slam the laptop shut.
Your face burns. Your pulse thrums in your ears. The apartment is silent ā Chanās out for a run, or so heād claimed when heād left an hour ago.
You open the laptop again.
Itās Curiosity. Thatās all.
It starts innocently enough ā just checking his schedule, really. A quick glance at his calendar pinned to the fridge.
"For productivity purposes," Chan had joked when you asked.
Then, sure enough, it spiraled.
You memorize the time of his streams, monday nights, Friday nights, he'd timed them perfectly in sync with times he knew you wouldn't be home. that's why you've been blissfully unaware of him filming in different locations around your shared apartment for the past two and a half months.
And the occasional late night surprise session that leaves you fumbling for your earbuds at 1 am. You'd literally be home, but he'd go live anyway. was he into that?
you were into it too, admittedly, because you turned out to be just as shameful as him.
The notification pops up at 1:47 am on a Wednesday 'Chan is live!' (yes, you turned his notifs on) and your fingers freeze mid doom scroll through Instagram.
your room is dark except for the glow of your phone screen, you're supposed to be asleep.
You tap the notification.
Chanās face fills the screen, his grin already in place as he adjusts the camera. Heās shirtless, propped against the headboard of his bed, one arm draped lazily over his bent knee. The ring light casts shadows along his abs, highlighting every dip and curve.
"Late night surprise," he murmurs, "*Miss me?*" aaaand heat is already pooling low in your stomach.
His fingers work on hinseld, slow and teasing at first, thumb smearing precum in lazy circles while he talksā god, he sure does talk, filthy praises and half formed fantasies spilling from his lips like heās whispering them directly into your ear. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, your other hand slipping under the waistband of your pajama shorts.
Chan arches his back on screen, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you guys are greedy tonight," he rasps, stroking himself slowly. His thumb presses against the head on every upstroke, just how youāve learned he likes it ā learned from watching, from nights spent with your phone hidden under your pillow, screen dimmed to its lowest setting.
"Fuck, m'close," Chan groans, your fingers moving between your thighs in time with his rhythm, matching the pace, hips shifting under the sheets, your breath coming shallow.
Itās not the first time youāve watched him like this, but itās the first time youāve done it live, with the shaky thrill of knowing he has no idea youāre here.
A whimper almost escapes you when he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, his breath hitching. You press your palm over your mouth, stifling the sound.
The last thing you need is him hearing you through the thin walls.
The thought alone, him catching you, realizing, sends a sharp jolt between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together, chasing the feeling before it slips away.
His hand speeds up, the wet sound of his skin moving over his cock muffled only slightly by the mic's noise suppression. "God, fuckāgonna come so hard for you," he grits out, his voice cracking on the last word.
You press your free hand harder against your mouth, fingers digging into your own cheek as you watch his stomach tense, the muscles there flexing under the sheen of sweat. Your own movements stutter when he lets out a low, punched out moan, his hips jerking up into his fist.
Youāre so close you canāt think straight. The coil in your stomach winds tighter with every stroke of his hand, every filthy sound he makes, matching his rhythm like youāre desperate to prove somethingā like if you can just finish at the same time, itāll mean something. Stupid. Itās stupid. But your hips jerk anyway, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts against your palm.
"Fuck, fuckā" His hand stills suddenly, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he tips his head back, you watch as his body locks up for one second ā and then heās coming, stripes of white painting his stomach, his chest.
Your own climax crashes over you at the same time, so violently you nearly choke on the gasp you swallow down, your back arching off the bed as pleasure burns through you in hot, dizzying waves.
Heās still catching his breath, his free hand dragging lazily through the mess on his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of cum with a slow, absentminded swipe.
His lips curl into that stupid, effortless smirk youāve seen a hundred times,
"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, still a little breathless. "You all got me good tonight."
He reaches for a towel off screen, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wipes himself clean. You watch, transfixed, as he tosses the towel aside and leans closer to the camera, cheeks are still flushed, his lashes low.
"Hope that was worth the wait," he says, eyes flickering to the chat before he grins. "gosh you guys are generous with the tips tonight." and you catch a few of the comments.
slave4u: how bout you come and give me that tip
sweetheartonline: gone broke just for you </3
Chan just chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, Iām done. Youāre all insatiable." He stretches his arms above his head, his torso arching beautifully, "Next streamās friday. Be good for me til then, yeah?"
With one last wink, he reaches forward, and the screen goes black.
You yank your earbuds out, Your chest heaves, your skin still buzzing, your thighs still sticky, and you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids until colors bloom behind them.
you find it ridiculous that you're actually enjoying this, perverted thoughts. Stupid. So stupid.
~
Two weeks pass after that. You're hyperaware of Chanās presence in a way that makes your skin itch. Every casual touch sends sparks skittering up your spine.
You try to act normal, you really do.
But you catch yourself staring at his hands when he cooks, remembering the way they moved over himself on screen, and have to physically shake your head to clear the image.
Chan, for his part, seems to thrive on your discomfort. He leaves his bedroom door cracked just a little wider than necessary, and infuriatingly, he's rarely not shirtless.
it's okay. you're okay. at least you tell yourself that.
till it's Friday morning, marking the beginning of your third month.
the apartment is quiet, still bathed in the soft gold of early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. you hum under your breath as you flip pancakes.
then Chan emerges, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep.
He leans against the doorway, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk. āMorning,ā he rasps, voice still thick with sleep.
this feels too domestic for your liking.
āMorning,ā you mumble, not turning around.
Chan pads closer, bare feet silent against the hardwood, until heās right behind you. His warmth radiates against your back, āSmells good,ā he murmurs, and you swear his lips brush the shell of your ear.
The spatula clatters against the pan. too domestic.
Chan chuckles, as he reaches around you to steal a piece of pancake from the prepared stack. His chest presses against your shoulder, his skin searing where it touches yours. āCareful,ā he teases, popping the bite into his mouth. āYouāll burn them.ā
The pancake batter sizzles violently as you stand there, frozen, Chanās body heat scorching against your back.
His fingers brush your hip as he reaches for the syrup, and you nearly drop the spatula again.
"Youāre jumpy this morning," Chan muses, leaning against the counter beside you. "Bad dreams?"
sure, if 'bad' and 'wet' are the same thing. "something like that."
Chan hums, tilting his head as he studies you. "Got plans today?"
You flip another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just groceries later." The words come out steadier than you feel.
His grin grows. "Mind if I tag along?"
You shrug, "Itās just errands."
Chan snags another pancake, leaning into your space until his bare shoulder presses against yours. "Exactly. Sounds thrilling." His fingers brush yours as he steals the spatula, flipping the last pancake with a flick of his wrist. "Come on. Iāll even push the cart."
You huff a laugh despite yourself. "Youāll get bored in five minutes."
"Bet?" He bumps your hip with his, "Loser buys ice cream."
~
The grocery store is exactly as mundane as you predicted, but Chan makes it unbearable in ways you didnāt anticipate ā his fingers lingering when he passes you items, his chest pressing against your back in crowded aisles like itās accidental. By the time you hit the freezer section, your nerves are frayed.
"Pick a flavor," Chan murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder as he reaches past you to open the glass door. His breath ghosts across your cheek. "Iām feeling generous."
The freezer air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. Chanās arm brushes yours as he leans in, his fingers tracing the edge of a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "This one," he decides, plucking it from the shelf. "tastes like toothpaste sometimes, but eh" he said with a shrug.
You snort, grabbing a classic vanilla, but he plucks it from your hands and replaces it with something absurdly decadent, something with caramel swirls and chocolate chunks.
"Live a little," he grins, tossing it into the cart.
The checkout line is agony. Chan stands close enough that his knuckles keep brushing the small of your back, each touch sending sparks up your spine.
the cashier ā an exhausted looking college student ā scans everything, he pushed your hand aside when you tried to pay, and handed the cashier his card.
he caried all the groceries too, and swatted your hand away when you try to carry any.
it feels like he's your boyfriend.
The apartment door clicks shut behind you both, grocery bags rustling as Chan kicks off his shoes. Youāre still fumbling with the laces of your sneakers when he brushes past you with the plastic bags.
You follow, already going to pull things out and putting them in their designated cupboards, Chanās already rummaging through to find the ice cream, His grin is wide as he holds it up. "Scoops or straight from the tub?"
"freezer" you deadpan, "it's probably melted by now"
his shoulders slump a little, turning around to place the tubs in the freezer.
"and, scoops," you mutter, "Weāre not animals."
he snickers, "Debatable."
Chan nudges the freezer door shut with his hip, the ice cream safely stowed away for later. "Movie night?" he suddenly asks, casual as anything, "Haven't done one in a while."
You nod, "Yeah. Okay."
You retreat to your room to change, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt before you even reach the door. The fabric sticks to your skin, too warm and you peel it off with a relieved sigh the second youāre alone.
The dresser drawer squeaks as you rummage for shorts and a tank top since its getting too hot, but your hands freeze mid reach when you hear Chanās door creak open down the hall.
The unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor ā jeans, probably ā makes your throat go dry. You strain to listen, pulse hammering in your ears, as Chan hums under his breath. Something clatters, a belt buckle, and then the soft rustle of fresh clothes being pulled on.
You yank your own shorts up so fast you nearly trip, ears burning. Pathetic.
When you emerge, Chanās already sprawled across the couch in loose joggers and that stupidly thin white tank top.
"You took forever," Chan drawls from the couch, already eating his way through a popcorn bucket.
"You're picking?" he scoffs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "After the garbage you called 'cinema' last time?"
You snatch the remote before he can lunge for it. "You picked Twilight unironically last time."
Chan clutches his chest like you've wounded him. "Bella Swan is a cultural icon."
You scoff, scrolling through the options, ignoring Chan's dramatic sigh as he flops back against the cushions. His knee bumps yours, but you don't pull away.
"Fine," he huffs. "But if it's another pretentious indie film where people whisper for two hours, I'm revoking your movie privileges."
"Fine," you grumble back, scrolling past a dozen of said pretentious indie films with moody black and white thumbnails. "But only because I pity your attention span."
Chan's grin is immediate as he stretches an arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder.
"pick something with action," then wiggles his eyebrows, "Or nudity."
You elbow him hard in the ribs.
"Owā," Chan wheezes, but he's laughing, catching your wrist before you can retreat. His fingers are warm and rough against your pulse point, thumb pressing into the flutter there. "Violent and kinky," he muses, tugging you closer until your shoulders press together. "I like it."
You yank your wrist free and snatch up the remote again, scrolling through titles.
Chan's laughter vibrates through the couch cushions as you land on something, anything, just to shut him up. The movie starts with a car chase, tires screeching, glass shattering. Perfect. Loud enough to distract whenever Chan shifts beside you.
"Action and nudity," Chan murmurs, nodding approvingly at the screen where some actor's shirt rips open during a fight scene. "You do know me."
You sink lower into the couch, arms crossed. "Shut up and watch."
The first ten minutes of the movie blur into a haze of gunfire and badly timed one-liners, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the way Chanās fingers keep tracing idle patterns against your shoulder.
You focus resolutely on the screen, but Chanās warmth beside you is impossible to ignore. His knee presses into yours, his bare arm brushing against yours every time he reaches for more popcorn, and each touch sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.
Then, during a lull in the action, Chan shifts beside you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His fingers curl gently into your hair, thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.
"Youāre not even watching," he mmurmur.
You swallow hard, refusing to look at him. "Am too."
Chan hums, unconvinced, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin. "Liar."
His accusation hangs between you, thick and charged, and suddenly the movie feels like background noise.
His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, tipping your head back just enough that you have no choice but to meet his gaze.
His eyes are dark, thereās no teasing smirk now, no playful glint ā just hunger.
Your breath hitches audibly.
Chanās thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me to stop."
You donāt.
His lips crash into yours before you can form a coherent thought, the remote clattering to the floor as your hands fist in his shirt.
Chan groans into your mouth, fingers tightening in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with so much desperation.
The movie drones on, but all you can feel is the way his hips jerk forward against yours as you press closer. His hands slide down to grip your waist, hauling you halfway into his lap without breaking the kissl.
"Youāve been driving me insane," Chan pants against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace the dip of your spine. "Watching me, pretending you werenātāfuckā" His words dissolve into a groan when you grind down against him, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.
He knows you know. he has all this time. The realization makes your eyes widen slightlyābut it doesnāt surprise you. Not really.
Not when Chanās fingers tighten possessively around your hips, his teeth scraping your lower lip like heās been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.
His palm slides up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your thin tank top, and your breath stutters against his mouth.
Of course he knew. The cracked doors, the late night streams he timed too perfectly with your schedule. Those weren't just coincidences.
You pull back just enough to see his face, your eyes wide with the realization that just dawned on you.
his lips are swollen from your kisses, panting, āSurprise,ā he rasps, voice wrecked.
Chanās grip shifts, hauling you fully into his lap, and you gasp when his hardness presses against you. His chuckle vibrates through your chest as he rolls his hips up, slow and filthy. āThought youād never crack,ā he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.
Your hands fist in his tank top, the fabric damp with sweat where it clings to his chest. āYouāassholeā you pant, hips jerking against his involuntarily. āAll that teasingāā
Chan's grin widens "All what teasing?" he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kisses to your neck. "You mean leaving my door open just a little too wide?"
His teeth scrape your skin, "Or maybe streaming at exactly the times I knew you'd be home?" His palm cups your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple.
You gasp when he pinches lightly, hips jerking against his. "You're insane," you manage, though the words come out more breathless than angry.
Chan laughs against your throat, before his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hands slide down to grip your hips, guiding your movements as you grind against him. The friction is dizzying, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to dull the heat of him pressed against you.
"Insane?" His breath is hot against your damp skin. "Baby, aren't the one who watched my streams every other night?" His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with maddening slowness.
You whine, the sound high and desperate in your throat, and nod before you can think better of it. The admission burns your cheeks, but the way Chan groans against your skin makes it worth it.
"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.
Chanās fingers flex against your waist, his breath hot against your lips. āEvery fucking time,ā he admits, voice rough āIād pretend it was your hand on me,ā His thumb presses into the dip of your hipbone, āYour mouth.ā His gaze drops to your parted lips, then back up, heavy lidded. āYou have no idea how many times I came thinking about you watching me.ā
Chan exhales sharply, his nose brushing yours. ācancelled tonightās stream,ā he murmurs, lips grazing yours with every word. āwould rather beg you to fuck me instead.ā His palm slides up your ribcage, fingers tracing the edge of your bra through your tank top.
āYou donāt have to beg,ā you murmur, lips brushing his as you swing your leg off his lap. Chan exhales sharply, hands gripping your waist tighter like heās afraid youāll pull away entirely, but then youāre sliding to your knees between his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.
His breath catches when you tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking against his stomach.
gosh he's even bigger than he looks on camera.
Chan's breath stutters when your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking into your grip before he can stop himself. "Fuckā" His voice cracks, a hand flying to fist in your hair as you stroke him slow, watching the way his eyelids flutter.
He's hot and heavy in your palm, already slick at the tip, and the way his thighs tense when you swipe your thumb over the head is obscene.
Chanās fingers tighten in your hair when your lips brush the head of his cock, his breath stuttering out in a ragged groan. āFuckāfuckāā His hips jerk up instinctively, but you pull back just enough to tease, swirling your tongue over the tip without taking him deeper, and you canāt resist glancing up through your lashes to watch his face twist with pleasure.
āSo loud,ā you giggle, blowing a slow breath over the wetness youāve left behind. Chanās thighs tense under your palms. āAll those streams,ā you continue, stroking him lazily with one hand while the other traces the vein running along his length, āand you never moaned like this.ā
Chanās laugh comes out strained, his chest heaving. āit wasn't you,ā he grits out, hips rolling up into your touch. His fingers tug at your hair, guiding you back to him with a quiet desperation that sends heat pooling low in your stomach. āNow stop teasingāā
You swallow him down before he can finish, humming around him just to feel the way his whole body jerks. His moan is filthy, unfiltered, his hips canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like he canāt help it.
You take him deeper, throat working around him, and Chanās fingers tighten in your hair, not guiding, just holding on for dear life.
āgodāā His voice cracks when you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock. His other hand fists the couch cushion beside his thigh, knuckles going white. āSo goodāshitāyou take me so fucking goodāā
You pull off with a slick pop, lips brushing the flushed tip as you peer up at him, teasing, thumb swiping over the bead of precome gathered there.
Chanās chest heaves, his abs flexing as he stares down at you, His grip in your hair tightens just enough to sting ā a silent warning ā but you just grin and duck back down, sucking him deep until his thighs tremble.
Chan curses, his hips lifting off the couch as you bob your head, the wet sounds obscenely loud even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.
āGonnaāā He's cut off by his own gasp, āGonna come if you keepāā
You pull off with a wet sound, lips slick and swollen, and replace your mouth with both hands, jerking him so fast his hips stutter off the couch, his breath coming in ragged, punched out gasps.
āWaitāfuckāā Chan chokes out, fingers scrambling at your shoulders, but itās too late ā his back arches off the cushions, muscles locking tight as he spills hot over your fingers and his own stomach.
His thighs shake under your palms, his cock twitching in your grip as you stroke him through it, slower now, milking every last drop until heās whimpering and oversensitive, his hands weakly pushing at your wrists.
āTurn around,ā Chan rasps, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers slide from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your spit slick bottom lip. āWant you riding me.ā
Your stomach flips at the command, but before you can move, Chanās hands are gripping your waist, hauling you up onto the couch with surprising strength. He settles you over his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips, and the sudden press of his bare skin against yours makes you gasp.
Chan groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans back to look at you, really look at you, his gaze dragging down your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle.
he hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and tugs, sliding them off, his breath hitching when he finds you already soaked through your panties.
"Fuck," he exhales, dragging the damp fabric aside with one finger, his touch featherlight as he traces your slit. His other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads touch, his breath mingling with yours. "You're so wet," he murmurs, voice rough with disbelief. "Just from sucking me off?"
You nod, hips canting into his touch shamelessly, his finger circles your clit āonce, twice, before dipping lower, sliding into you, crooking just right to make your back arch. His free hand fists in your tank top, dragging you closer until your chest presses against his, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden against him.
His thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, and your vision whites out for a second ā just long enough to miss the way his free hand fists in your tank top, yanking it up until the fabric bunches just above your chest. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth scraping over your nipple through the lace of your bra, and you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand.
āThought about this,ā he pants against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wet spot heās left behind. āEvery goddamn streamāimagined you like this, wet and desperate for me.ā His finger curls again, dragging a broken moan from your throat, and his grin is all teeth when he leans back to watch you unravel. āKnew youād be prettier than I imagined.ā
You grab his wrist, stilling his movements, and his brows furrow ā confused, frustrated ā until you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap properly this time. His cock, half hard again, twitches against your thigh as you grind down, the friction drawing a ragged groan from both of you.
Chanās hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him, his breath hot against your collarbone.
āWanna feel you,ā you murmur, fingers fumbling between you to grip him, slicking him up with your own arousal. Chanās head falls back against the couch, his Adamās apple bobbing as you line him up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
You sink down onto him with a choked gasp, thighs trembling as he stretches you open inch by agonizing inch. Chanās hands clamp around your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but he doesnāt rush you ājust watches as you take him deeper.
"Fuck," you whimper, nails scraping his shoulders when he bottoms out, your body shuddering at the unfamiliar stretch. "Youāreāgodāyouāre so bigā"
Chan groans, hips twitching beneath you, fighting not to thrust up. "Yeah?" His voice is wrecked, breath hitching as you clench around him. "Feel good, baby? Stuffed full of me?" His fingers trail up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts while you adjust. "taking me so good."
You roll your hips experimentally, and Chanās head thuds back against the couch, his Adamās apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "Thatās it," he rasps, hands sliding to grip your ass. "Use meāride me just like you imagined."
The words send heat flaring up your neck, but you canāt deny them, canāt stop the way your body responds, hips rolling in slow circles. Chan hisses between his teeth when you clench around him, his fingers flexing against your skin.
"Christāfuckāyouāre so tight," he grits out, eyes locked on where youāre joined. "Bet you thought about this every night, hmm? Watching me stroke my cock on cam while you fucked yourself on your fingers?"
You whimper, thighs quivering as you lift yourself halfway up before sinking back down, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. his breath stutters, his hips jerking up to meet you halfway, and the sudden shift punches a ragged moan from your throat. "Oh fuckāChanā"
"Say it," he demands, thumb brushing your clit as you bounce in his lap. His voice is rough, wrecked, his pupils blown wide, "Tell me how much you thought about this, how many times you came imagining me inside you."
You gasp when he pinches your clit lightly, your rhythm faltering, "Everyāahāevery night," you admit, nails digging into his shoulders as you grind down harder. "Watched youātouched myselfāgod, wanted youā"
Chan groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he guides your movements, thrusting up to meet you. "Knew it," he pants, lips brushing yours with every ragged breath.
"Knew you were getting off to meāfuckāyour little gasps when Iād look at the cameraā" His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing your nipples through your bra. "Bet you came so pretty for me, huh? All quiet so I wouldnāt hear?"
You nod frantically, hips stuttering as his cock hits that spot inside you, the pleasure building dangerously fast. "Y-yesā*fuck*āChan, pleaseā"
"Please what?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk even as his own breathing falters. He slows your movements deliberately, dragging you through each excruciatingly slow roll of your hips. "Need me to fuck you harder, baby?"
You whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to chase your own rhythm, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting. "Yesāgod, yesā"
he flips you onto your stomach before you can finish begging, his hands rough and sure as he shoves your knees apart against the couch cushions. The fabric burns against your bare thighs when he yanks your hips back, his cock sliding out of you with a slick sound that makes your face burn.
You barely have time to whimper before his fingers dig into your waist, lifting you on all fours with a sharp tug ā his chest presses hot against your back, his breath ragged in your ear as he lines himself up again.
he doesnāt give you a second to adjust. He slams into you with one brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your elbows buckle against the cushions. His cock stretches you open deeper than before, the angle hitting deeper, and you choke on a scream when his hips snap forward again, setting a punishing pace before you can catch your breath.
Hands clamp around your hips, fingers bruising as he drags you back onto him with every thrust. The couch creaks beneath you, the sound drowned out by chanās ragged groans and the slick slap of skin on skin. His rhythm is merciless, no teasing now, just pure, desperate need as he fucks into you like heās been starving for it.
Chan's grip on your hips shifts ā one hand sliding up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bows beautifully beneath him. "Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with something between awe and hunger as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.
His fingers tighten, pulling just enough to make your scalp prickle, before his palm cracks down against your ass, the sound echoing through the room louder than the forgotten movie still playing in the background.
You gasp, thighs trembling as the heat blooms across your skin, but Chan doesnāt give you a second to recover. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your nails scrabbling against the couch cushions for purchase. "Take it," he orders, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "God, you feel so goodāclenching around me likeā" His words dissolve into a groan as he picks up the pace, each thrust punching a ragged sound from your throat.
His free hand slides around your waist, pressing firm circles against your clit, and the dual sensation has your vision blurring at the edges. "Thatās it," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his rhythm falters for just a second, "Gonna make you come just like thisāspread out, taking me so wellā"
His thumb presses harder against your clit, and your back arches involuntarily, a broken moan tearing from your lips as the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.
Chan curses, his grip tightening as you clench around him, your body shuddering through the waves of it. "Yeah, there you go, gonna cum for me?"
You nod vigorously, your fingers twisting into the couch cushions as Chanās thrusts turn erratic, his breath ragged against your ear. "Cum with me," he rasps, and itās all you need.
Your body clenches around him like a vice, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense your vision whites out for a second. Chan groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a broken gasp, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.
Chan pulls out slowly, hissing through his teeth when you clench around him reflexively, oversensitive.
The couch cushions are damp beneath your trembling thighs, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you collapse onto your stomach, chest heaving. Chan exhales sharply, running a hand down your spine, before flipping you onto your back, more gently this time.
The shift makes you wince, your body still thrumming with aftershocks, he slides off the couch onto his knees between your legs. His palms skate up your inner thighs, spreading them apart with slowly despite your weak protest. "Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna taste you."
You squirm when his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, but Chanās grip tightens, holding you open. "Chanā" His name comes out hoarse, your voice wrecked. "Iāmāahātoo sensitiveā"
Chanās fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open despite your squirming. His tongue flicks over your clit, just enough to make your hips jerk, oversensitive and trembling.
āYou can take it,ā he murmurs against your skin, āYouāre a big girl, yeah?ā His teeth graze your inner thigh, before his mouth closes over you again, and your back arches off the couch with a choked gasp.
You can take it. You do.
Every swipe of his tongue sends sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers twisting into his hair ā not to pull him away, but to keep him right there, his mouth working you through the dizzying aftershocks of your orgasm.
Chan hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his grip on your thighs tightens when you try to press them together instinctively. āNone of that,ā he chides, nipping at your skin before dragging his tongue up your slit again, āJust let me have you.ā
You whine, hips caving into his mouth despite the oversensitivity, the pleasure tipping into something almost painful, but you donāt tell him to stop. Couldnāt if you wanted to.
"so sweet," he groans against you, the words vibrating through your oversensitive nerves. His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down when you try to squirm away from the intensity. "Noā stay still."
You whimper, but obey, letting him spread you wider as his tongue delves deeper, circling your entrance before dragging back up in one long, torturous lick.
"Chanāpleaseā" you gasp, but youāre not even sure what youāre begging for ā him to stop or never, ever stop.
His response is to hook your leg over his shoulder, angling you deeper into his mouth, and then heās sucking you in, his tongue working you with precision. You sob his name, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pressure builds again, too soon, too muchā
You choke out his name, fingers scrambbling at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, before your hips jerk violently against his mouth.
āChan, gonnaāoh godāā The warning spills out brokenly, your thighs clamp around his head as you come with a shuddering gasp, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure rips through you.
he groans against you, the vibration wringing another broken sound from your throat, he doesnāt pull away, just laps at you greedily, his tongue dragging through the mess youāve made of him with slow strokes.
āFuck,ā he rasps against your skin before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. āYouāre perfect like this.ā His thumb brushes your clit once, testing, and you jerk with a gasp, your body still thrumming with aftershocks.
Chan grins up at you, all dark eyes and swollen lips, before dragging his tongue up your slit one last time.
Chan rises from between your thighs with a groan, his lips slick and glistening with you, you realize with a jolt ā before his mouth crashes into yours, the kiss filthy and possessive, his tongue licking into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, sticky with sweat, and he moans into your mouth when you tug ā sharp, just to feel him shudder.
You pull away eventually, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and other things, and collapse onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Chan drags you half on top of him, your head resting against his chest where you can hear his heartbeat still racing beneath his skin.
His fingers trace idle patterns along your back, the movieās credits roll, forgotten, casting flickering shadows across the ceiling.
You nuzzle into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat slowing down, the rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. His skin is warm and slightly sticky, and you press a kiss to it without thinking, smiling when his fingers pause for a second before resuming their path along your spine.
"Quit staring," you murmur, tilting your head up just enough to catch him watching you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. soft, almost awed, Chan huffs a laugh, his thumb brushing your hipbone where heād gripped hard enough to leave marks earlier.
"Canāt help it," he admits, voice rough with exhaustion "Youāre kinda fucking gorgeous like this."
You snort, but your cheeks heat anyway, and Chanās grin widens when he notices. He shifts beneath you, rolling just enough to tuck you more firmly against his side, his arm a solid weight across your waist.
The movement makes you wince, your thighs ache in a way thatās equal parts delicious and punishing, and Chanās fingers tighten reflexively, his smirk turning smug.
"Sorry," he lies, and you bite on his shoulder just to hear him yelp.
his yelp dissolves into laughter, his fingers digging into your sides as he squirms away from your teeth. āFuck, ow,ā he complains, but his grin ruins the effect, āYou bite hardāshouldāve known youād be a menace.ā
You grin against his shoulder, pressing another kiss to the reddening mark you left behind. āPayback,ā you murmur, tracing the outline with your tongue just to feel him shiver. Chan groans, his hips jerking reflexively beneath you, and you freeze when you feel him stirring against your thighāalready half hard again.
āSeriously?ā you ask, incredulous, and Chan has the audacity to look proud, his smirk widening as he rolls his hips up against you.
āWhat?ā he teases, voice dripping with false innocence. āCanāt help itāyouāre right there, all warm and fucked outāā His hand slides down your back, fingers skimming the curve of your ass before squeezing lightly. āAnd you bit me. Thatās basically foreplay.ā
You press a hand to Chanās chest when he tries to roll you beneath him again, your thighs still trembling from the last round. āShower,ā you mumble, and Chan makes a wounded noise against your collarbone in protest.
āFive more minutes,ā he tries, lips trailing up your neck like heās trying to convince you with his mouth.
You laugh, breathless, and squirm out of his grip before he can distract you properly. āNoāshower,ā you insist, swatting at his hands when they try to drag you back. āWeāre disgusting.ā
Chan pouts ā actually pouts, like this big hunk of a man didn't just fuck the daylights out of you ā and flops back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. āFine,ā he grumbles, but his eyes track your every movement as you stand, snickering when you wobble slightly on unsteady legs.
You stumble towards the bathroom, then you glance back at Chan, sprawled across the couch with his arms behind his head, watching you with that stupid, smug grin, and ask, "Whenās your next stream again?"
his grin falters into confusion when your question registers. "Monday," he says automatically, his brows furrowing, "Why?"
You hum, "Just thinking," then you shrug, "maybe Iāll join you next time."
he's caught off guard when you leave him hanging and close the bathroom door behind you, "don't start something you can't finish!"
You had just finished making the cutest bento ever when you heard the trudge of Chanās sneakers going down the wooden stairs. Seeing the gleam in your eyes when he turned the corner was already enough to make Chanās day, but when he looked down to see a bento box filled with rice in the shape of a panda, glazed cutlets, and veggies? His heart began to swirl with a mix of emotions.
Chan loved being able to provide for you, he knew you were more than capable of taking care yourself but he couldnāt help it, It was his favorite thing in the world. So the day you told him you would finally let him take care of you financially, he was overjoyed. But there was something about seeing you so happy to take care of him. His heart swelled with pride but also filled with lust. His little housewife always so good for him
āDo you like it?ā He was fully prepared to suppress his lust to show his gratitude to you. But then you looked up at him with those beautiful, pleading eyes he just couldnāt resist and any resolve he had tried to build melted. Heād have to show you just how grateful he is.
Your head is spinning with his scent. You truly didnāt expect him to react like this when he saw the bento box. One minute he was hugging you from behind littering your neck with sweet kisses of gratitude and the other youāre bent over the counter with Chan ramming into you from behind, thick enough to press every ridges inside you.
Your knees buckled a long time ago, now, the only thing holding you up was Chanās hand wrapped tightly around your neck. āFuck you feel so good. Exactly what I needed to start my day.ā Your moans bounced off of the walls filling the room with the sweet symphony of you.
The wet slapping of your skin with his was damn near hypnotic. āSuch a good girl making lunch for me this early. Iām gonna do you a favor and fuck you right back to sleep yeah?ā
āChris pleaseā You donāt even know what begging for anymore. Your mind is too foggy to think and your body is numb with that beautiful pressure building deep inside of you. āYou gonna cum for me pretty girl?ā He knows youāre too far gone to answer but he still asks you anyway. And the way youāre pulsing around him already gave him his answer.
āThatās it beautiful, let go for meā Your eyes roll to the back of your head as pure serenity washes over you. Chan groans in response to you gripping him like a vice and his thrusts begin picking up in pace. āChannie I canāt!ā You cry out.
āYou can take it baby I know you canā His grip is tight on your hip but neither of you even care. Chan cums with one final groan buried deep in the nape of your neck. His grip on you finally loosens and you collapse against the counterā delirious and weak from your previous antics. As you drift into sleep you fall limp into Chanās chest when he picks you up. You faintly recall the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear when he tucked you gently into your shared bed. The last thing you remember before you drift into sleep was a kiss on the forehead and the words āThank you for food babyā fall from Chanās lips.
hi guys .. iāve been on a ābreakā or hiatus or break or whatever you wanna call it. iāve been writers blocked for a long time now, i canāt seem to find my groove you know? so.. IM BACK and Iāll try to post my obvious drafts /finish them soon. currently heading towards finals week at my uniā¦ so.. hooray..? anyway this is where i encourage to invite you all to send some requests (not 100 percent certain iāll post it right away so pls forgive š) but itās a start. inspire me, homies.
genre: smut!! minors will be hunted for sport
contains: drabbles ā you and each member desperately need each other but are so so tired :(
wc: 4k (~ 500 each)
ā” note: aĀ reupload. i'll say it until the end of time, but i'm incredibly, freakishly grateful for the love the original series received <3
divider by @lariesographic / my masterlist
CHAN
Any reasonable person would be sleeping at this hour. You were asleep before Chan woke you, visibility exhausted and desperate for relief. He climbs into bed and presses himself into your back, large hands reaching around to your inner thighs. āPlease, pretty girl, just let me do something, anything,ā he whispers against your skin.
He rarely says what he needs so plainly, even rarer that heās willing to beg. You canāt deny him, especially not when he grazes his fingers over your clit just to hear you gasp.Ā
The room is dark, the only light flickering in from the moonlight and a bedside lamp he switched on. In his eyes, youāre glowing, always so perfect for him. Shadows dance across his chest as you move.Ā
He lets out a content sigh as you sink down onto him. āFuck, baby,ā he whispers almost inaudibly. He clenches his jaw, like heās trying so hard to keep still. You pause once heās fully inside, taking your time to adjust to his size.Ā
He props himself up on his elbows, unable to stop himself from staring at where he disappears inside of you. Slowly, experimentally, you roll your hips. His mouth falls open at the movement. A small amount of sweat already causes his biceps to glisten in the low light. You moan, and his eyes snap up to admire your blissed expression.Ā
You keep grinding, feeling him hit the perfect spot inside you, clit brushing against him with every motion. Fuck, heās so good for you. You chase your high by speeding up ever so slightly. He grips your waist and sets a slower pace himself. ā - Gonna kill me,ā he whimpers, āNot gonna last.ā.
He canāt help himself - he thrusts once up into you, still moving your hips. You let out a choked moan, eyes squeezing shut. He can see how weak you are - sleepiness and pleasure finally overtaking you. He takes the opportunity to sit up and hold you against his chest. You never stop your motions.Ā
The new angle has his cock reaching deeper inside. He feels you squeeze tighter, and his head falls to your shoulder. Heās done for when you breathe his name like itās the only thing you remember. He needs you to come with him, needs you to feel just as good as he is.Ā
He reaches between your thighs and rubs small circles on your clit. A few more delicious motions, and both of your highs hit you together. He lets out a final moan, lightly biting your skin in an attempt to be quiet, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. You try to ride out your own pleasure, but falter, his name falling from your lips as his fingers stay on your clit.Ā
He keeps holding you against him, giving you both time to catch your breath. Eventually, he chuckles quietly and softly kisses your neck. āThank you, baby,ā he murmurs. He falls back with you into the mattress, whispering his praises until you fall asleep again.
MINHO
The entire world has faded to just you two in his hotel room. Minhoās sighs and flustered groans ring in sync with your heavenly grinds. His upper back is pressed against the headboard. It must be uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem to even know where he is right now. Usually heās a lot more composed than this. Usually, he wouldnāt just let you climb on his lap, tease your tongue down his neck, whisper how good heās being in his ear. However, his muscles are heavy after performing, and you looked so sweet asking, of course he gave in to you.Ā
The view of you is enough to draw out an unhurried smile that reveals his bunny teeth. His gleaming eyes search yours ā intent on mentally cataloguing everything about this moment. That focus doesnāt last long. All it takes is one more small bounce, one more of your barely-contained gasps, and his head lolls backwards. His eyelids shutter halfway closed, but he never stops watching you. Youāre squeezing around him perfectly, and youāre so warm in his arms, fuck, he canāt remember why you donāt do this more often.Ā
Youāre beautiful like this. Moaning for him. Full of him. Giving everything to him, just as he gives everything to you. āCāmere,ā he murmurs before pulling you further into his embrace. He kisses you, slow and sensual, absorbing your sounds as you keep rocking on him. His cock drags along your fluttering walls with every movement. Still working his lips against yours, he brings his hand down between your bodies to circle your clit in time with your grinds. As if reading the otherās mind, both of you speed up at once, chasing both your highs.Ā
Eventually, you have to pull away to breathe. āMinho,ā you pant, gripping your nails into his shoulders, āMinho, feelsogood.āĀ
His cock twitches in you. His name, lovely and melodic, falling from your lips alone is almost enough to send him over the edge. Combined with your warm cunt pulling him in and the slight pain digging into his shoulders, heās so close. He can tell you are too; your motions are starting to falter as heat builds inside you. His free hand holds your waist steady, helping guide you through the motions.
Another roll of your hips. Another gorgeous moan. āBaby, fuck,ā is all the warning he can give. He groans your name, his grip tightens around you, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. His orgasm triggers your own. Overwhelming pleasure washes over your body with Minho still circling your clit in an attempt to help work you through it.Ā
After a few seconds, the stimulation gets too much. He chuckles as you gently swat his hand away from your core. Still his lap, he straightens his positioning to get even closer to you. āCome back,ā he whispers, connecting your lips again, holding you as you melt into him.
CHANGBIN
How could he ever resist his princess, laying in his bed like she knows she belongs there?Ā
You knew what he wanted the moment he crawled back beside you. He didnāt bother putting clothes back on after his post-gym shower. The scent of his body wash surrounds you, cozily tucked into the blankets. His damp hair is still slightly clinging to his skin. He leans in and gently kisses your shoulder. āGāmorning,ā he whispers against your skin.Ā
You kiss him in response. His groan is stifled in your mouth, but his arms wrap around your waist and easily shift you on top of him. You giggle at the sudden show of strength, matching his own smile at finally being able to feel you. He missed you so badly.Ā
He adjusts your hips slowly, giving you time to stop him if you want. You donāt. He moans as you sink down onto him, whispering āFuck, princess,ā into the cool air. āYou donāt know what you do to meā. His head falls backwards onto the pillow. You take him so well. You pause, adjusting to his size, and his hands tighten on your hips, like heās trying to contain himself.Ā
You sit up to straddle him and finally move, dragging your hips once back and forth. He bites back a gasp. God. Heās deep inside you now. Youāre gorgeous on top of him. Even when youāre still sleepy, chasing your pleasure, youāre the prettiest thing heās ever seen.Ā
Underneath you, his muscles glow in the morning light. Heās heartbreakingly gentle with his touches, like heās conscious of his own strength even like this. He almost loses it when you meet his eyes and smile back, so so perfect for him.Ā
Another roll of your hips. His cock slowly drags against your walls at your relaxed pace, and heās no longer trying to hide his sounds. You speed up ever so slightly, chasing your own high. His eyes squeeze shut. Curses and pretty moans fall from his lips the more you keep going, the more you keep perfectly squeezing around him.Ā
Youāre lost in him. Every motion brings you closer. Heās filling you perfectly, and your clit grazes him at every movement. You lean forward, anchoring your arms on his chest for support āBaby, fuck,ā you breathe out, and his eyes snap open again to check on you.Ā
He groans at the sight - he canāt help it. You look wrecked for him. Heās not going to last. He needs you to come with him, fuck, heās already holding back.Ā
You feel him start rubbing lazy circles on your clit in rhythm with your pace. Your choked cry is music to his ears. His other hand catches you when you slump forward, not able to support yourself anymore. āI know, princess,ā he groans, voice as wrecked as you feel. āI know, Iāve got you.āĀ
Pressed against his chest, your release washes over you. He tries to keep rubbing your clit, his fingers faltering from the feeling of being squeezed tighter as yours continues. His own high hits him, and he moves his hand up to hold you as you feel the familiar warmth inside you.Ā
He doesnāt let go afterwards. Youāre laying on him, wrapped in his arms, and he swears heās in heaven. āLetās just stay here,ā he whispers, āfor a little bit longer.ā You nod against him. He has no intention of moving anytime soon.Ā
HYUNJIN
The only sounds in the room are your intertwined moans and the creak of the bedframe, matching the steady rhythm of your grinds against him. Sleepiness still lingers in the air, but right now, you each want to make the other feel good. āThatās my girl - fuck,ā he moans from below you. Tiny amounts of sweat clings his hair to his skin. His hands grip your waist, not bruising, just guiding. āYou feel so good - always sāgood for me.āĀ
He fills you up so well. The angle has him hitting the perfect spot, and your clit brushes against him with every grind. Every movement brings you closer to your release.Ā
You roll your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. A whine escapes his lips, eyes quickly darting to yours to check if you heard it.Ā
Of course you did. You smile back down at him and repeat the motion, enjoying the view of his head falling back as he stifles another whine. One hand drops from your waist to cling to the rumpled bedsheets, like heās holding himself back.Ā
Another roll of your hips. His cock pushes further in, causing your knees to weaken from pleasure. You whimper, āHyunjin, baby -āĀ
āI know, Iāve got you,ā he breathes, and brings his hands up to support your weight. You let your body slump forward, leaning your arms against his chest as you try to keep your rhythm. His gaze lingers on your breasts, swaying as you move.Ā
Your pace falters more with each delicious grind, your high quickly approaching. He feels your walls clench around him and he knows you wonāt last much longer. Neither will he. He needs you to come with him, but fuck, heās already almost there.Ā
His eyes clench tight, one of his signs that heās close. āBaby, please,ā he begs, for nothing specifically and everything at once. He grabs your hand and guides it to your clit, choking on a sob as he watches you rub small circles in rhythm with your pace.Ā
Your orgasms overtake you at once. His name falls from your lips over and over, like a prayer, as waves of pleasure wash over you. He groans as he spills familiar warmth deep inside you.Ā
Afterwards, you lean forwards, laying on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair, pausing every so often to kiss the top of your forehead. He whispers, āI love you,ā against your forehead. Eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, still tangled in each other.
HAN
Everyone else is asleep. He should be quiet. He should stop moaning. However, heās buried deep inside his pretty girl, and he wouldnāt notice if the world ended right now. Youāre on his lap, kissing down his neck, driving him insane. He angles his head to give you more space, and moans even louder as you take advantage of it.Ā
You shift your weight, pushing him deeper inside you. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder. Everything about him - his scent, his touch, him - invades your senses. Heās brushing the perfect spot, and youāre not even moving yet. Like heās reading your mind, he slightly squeezes your hips, his fingers digging into where they rest.Ā
His eyes are big behind his glasses. His chest rises and falls with how heavily heās breathing.Ā
You rotate your hips, enjoying the view of his eyes rolling back into his skull. You moan in tandem - the sensation is too delicious for you to stop now. You repeat your motions. His high-pitched whine only spurs you forward, chasing the sensation of his cock hitting deep inside you again and again. His nails dig deeper into your skin. Already, the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much.Ā
Heās not doing much better. Each time you moan his name brings him closer to the edge. He needs you to finish before him. He moves his hand to grip your inner thigh, thumb barely brushing your clit. He looks up at you, tears shining in his eyes. āCan I, please?ā he breathes out.Ā
You nod so fast your vision slightly blurs.Ā
āthankyouthankyouthankyouāĀ
Then heās pressing slightly harder, rubbing lazy circles while staring intently at where heās connected to you. His glasses fall slightly down his nose. He doesnāt care.Ā
Fuck. Your movements get sloppier as the pleasure builds. His bedframe scrapes against the wall as you speed up. Heās incapable of forming words, just babbling half-sentences of praise. āFuck, baby - so good for me - please - fucking please,ā spills out.Ā
He can feel how close you are with how you clench around him. He just needs to hold on for a bit longer. He keeps rubbing your clit, and lifts himself up to kiss you. His lips work against yours, hoping he can convey his passion through it.Ā
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your moans grow in volume as you try to ride it out. He never stops rubbing your clit. His own follows closely behind yours, spilling deep inside you. He breaks the kiss to repeat your name like a prayer.
You fall against his chest, both of you panting as you come down. His arms engulf you and squeeze you tighter against him. āThank you,ā he whispers against your cheek. Reluctantly, he moves you off his lap and ensures youāre comfortable laying against him. You two stay like that, holding each other, until you both drift off to sleep.
FELIX
His deep moans amplify the lust residing in the air. The only light comes from his long-forgotten PC, the abandoned login screen illuminating you two on his bed. Felix forgot the game exists. Right now, heās just focused on trying to control himself as you roll your hips on top of him.Ā Ā
Youāre in his arms, making out with him, running your fingers through his long hair. Youāre always so perfect for him. Always his ethereal angel. Heās already lost in you, and youāve barely started. As you continue your slow movements, he breaks your kiss to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, whispering, āso, so beautiful,ā almost to himself. His cock twitches just from your resulting sweet smile.
You take your time, enjoying every inch of him. Your clit brushes against him with every movement. Your quiet moans are the prettiest sound heās ever heard. He would stay here listening to you forever, if you let him.Ā
Heās vaguely aware he has a roommate on the other side of the wall, but that awareness is waning by the second. Itās gone completely when you speed up, chasing the feeling of him hitting deep inside you. He lets out a choked groan. His abs flex with restraint, like heās holding himself back.Ā
Curses mixed with your name spill from his lips. One hand gently lands on your inner thigh, then travels over to your clit, rubbing small circles in rhythm with your motions. Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely focused on your building pleasure.Ā
āLook at me, angel,ā his low voice breathes out. āPlease.ā Of course you do, and fuck, he looks divine. His freckled cheeks twinge pink. His long hair falls messily over his shoulders.Ā He holds your gaze and sighs, āThatās my girl.āĀ
You clench around him at the praise, and he swears he sees heaven for a moment. His head falls back into the pillow behind him as he keeps babbling, āFeels so good - always sāgood - angel, fuck.ā A few more motions, and you weaken from the sensations, leaning forward to steady yourself on his chest. Your combined moans fill the room.Ā
God, heās so close, but he needs you to come with him. His fingers speed up on your clit, rubbing faster circles as he revels in your noises. Your highs hit together. He moans even deeper as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your hips falter on him as you try to ride out your waves of pleasure. He works you through it, still babbling out his love for you.Ā
Afterwards, he wraps his arms around you once more, pressing you into his bare chest. āThank you, angel,ā he whispers into your hair. He holds you against him, wrapped up in his sheets and each other, until you both drift off to sleep.
SEUNGMIN
Seungmin could not care less about the rest of his members going about their nightly routines outside his door. Why would he, when youāre in his arms, making out with him, slowly rolling your hips like you have all the time in the world. You do, as far as heās concerned. He never rushes with you if he can help it.Ā
Your hands are laced in his hair, absentmindedly twirling some longer strands between your fingers. He moans at the sensation every so often. Right now, he would do anything if it meant you would stay in his bed, making him feel so good heās about to start seeing stars. Your lips are so soft against his, and heās fitting wonderfully inside you - squeezing like you are perfectly made for him.Ā
You pause your movements for a moment, and he actually whines. He pulls away from the kiss to steady his breathing. His efforts are futile - his breaths quickening again when you sit up, him still inside you, and graze your fingers over his chest. The new angle is pushing him in deeper than he was before. He moans your name and leans his head back into the pillows beneath him.Ā
You resume your motions, feeling every inch of his cock hitting deep inside you. He genuinely might lose it from the sight alone. His hands rub up and down on your thighs, trying to feel as much of you as possible. He canāt help himself - moaned snippets of praise spill out of his mouth faster than he can register his own words. āFuck, baby - so good - oh my god - youāre beautiful,ā is just part of what youāre able to catch.Ā
Your clit brushes against him with every grind. The sensation is delicious, paired with Seungminās whimpering voice and him staring up at you like youāre a goddess, youāre not going to last. Heās not either - heās babbling more with each passing second. From below you, he stares up, suddenly looking more desperate. āTell me youāre mine,ā he whispers, and thrusts lightly up into you.Ā
You weaken from it, leaning forward onto him. He takes advantage of the position to kiss you again. āIām yours,ā you whisper against his lips.Ā
That does it. His head falls forward into your shoulder, whining softly again, as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your own orgasm follows quickly afterwards, pleasure washing over you, your pace faltering as you try to ride it out.Ā
For a few moments, neither of you move. He rubs small circles on your back as he attempts to recover from the slight overstimulation. Eventually, you begin to get off him, only to be met with him lightly grabbing you, keeping you in place. āDonāt,ā he murmurs, āplease.ā
JEONGIN
Heās most beautiful in the quiet moments. Heās ethereal always, but thereās something about the unguarded version of Jeongin, with messy hair, easy smiles, and holding you close like he canāt fathom ever letting you slip away, that always gets you needing more. Outside, the low hum of others in the same space filters through the bottom of his door, but they might as well be lightyears away for all the attention Jeongin pays them. Itās easy to forget that anyone else exists. Itās easy to revel in each other, barriers shed, until every stress, every thought vanishes.Ā
You pull away from the kiss first, Jeonginās eyes still closed and moving to follow after you, a line of spit that should be much more obscene than it actually is connecting the two of you. āCanāt wait anymore,ā he murmurs, eyes still closed. āPlease,ā he adds, ājust want you.ā Underneath you, his flannel pajama bottoms tent seemingly painfully. Youāre not doing much better.Ā
āAnything for you,ā you breathe, intended as teasing, but it comes out more like an admission. Regardless, it has the desired effect, a strangled groan leaving him as he shimmies out of his clothes with record-breaking speed.Ā
Your moans intertwine as you sink down onto him. Youāve done this countless times, and will be in this position countless more, but you donāt think youāll ever get used to the delicious pressure in the first few seconds. He knows this, too, if his barely-contained smug expression is anything to go by. It vanishes when you roll your hips, feeling his cock deep inside you. His forehead falls forward onto your shoulder, his hair tickles your collarbone. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose.Ā
āFuck,ā he groans into your skin, āyouāre so good at that.ā As if to accentuate his point, he canāt contain a sharp inhale as your movements speed up.Ā
Like mirror images of each other, the cockiness on your face is wiped away as his fingers find your clit to rub small circles in sync with your grinds. Raising his head again, his gleaming eyes search yours, soaking in your pleasure as much as he can. He canāt help himself; he thrusts up once, smiling again at your gasp. He pulls you in to kiss you again, lips working against yours, only broken by the moans escaping both of you.Ā
Your movements falter the more your pleasure builds. Jeongin notices. Of course he does ā he notices everything about you. His fingernails dig into where they rest on your hip, surely leaving crescents to discover in the morning, and without breaking rhythm, he takes over setting the pace himself.Ā
It doesnāt take long with Jeongin fitting perfectly inside you, his fingers circling your clit, his lips heated against yours. Your release washes over you with a cry of his name. He keeps moving you, keeps touching you, to help you ride it out. A few more motions, and he follows, your name falling from his lips.Ā
A few moments pass. He holds you pressed against his chest as you both catch your breath, Eventually, you move to get off him, but his grip only tightens, burying his face into the crook of your neck. āStay here with me,ā he whispers.
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tsukishima keeps your relationship so private that some guy tries hitting on you in front of him and it leads him to taking you in his car ! mdni.
you were tucked against keiās side in the quiet corner of the campus cafe after your last lecture, his long fingers lazily scrolling on his phone while you sipped your matcha drink and tried not to stare too hard at how pretty he looked when he wasnāt trying. nobody really knew about you two, not properly anyway.
he liked it that way. no one being nosy about your relationship, and because he believes he didnāt need to go parading his personal life or your relationship to everyone. you never pushed too because seeing him relax around you in private and him being a good boyfriend to you was enough and worth all of it.
but today some guy from your psych class slid into the seat across from you, all bright smile and easy confidence, leaning in way too close as if kei wasnāt there. āhey, you always come here? thought maybe we could grab coffee sometime, just us.ā the words hung there and keiās thumb paused on his screen, his golden eyes flicking up slow. he didnāt say anything right away, just that tiny tilt of his head, the one that meant heās kinda pissed.
you laughed it off, mumbling something polite, but the guy kept going, complimenting your notes from last week n asking for your number like your boyfriend wasnāt even sitting next to you.
keiās jaw flexed once. twice. then he stood up all tall, phone slipping into his pocket as he reached for ur wrist. āyou done? weāre leaving.ā his voice was flat, almost bored, but the grip on ur hand was tighter than usual, thumb pressing into your pulse like he needed to feel it race.
he didnāt let go till you were both in the parking lot, the late afternoon sun turning everything golden and warm. his car was parked at the far end, tinted windows hiding everything like always. he opened the passenger door for you without a word, but the second you were inside he leaned over and kissed you hard, tongue shoving in like he was staking claim right there in the open.
āthat asshole has a nerve,ā he muttered against ur mouth, breath hot. āacting like that as if i wasnāt there... thinking he has a shot on you, huh?ā
he pulled away and started driving.
the engine purred on and he drove off campus slowly, one hand on the wheel, the other already sliding up your thigh under your skirt. the tension in his shoulders was new, all sharp edges and quiet fury that made your tummy flip in the best way. he pulled into the empty lot behind the old gym building, engine still running low as he killed the lights.
ācāmere.ā
āk-kei... here??ā
āhere. donāt make me repeat myself.ā
you climbed over the console fast, knees bracketing his hips on the driver seat, skirt bunching up around your waist. his hands were everywhere at once, bunching your skirt around your waist, yanking your panties aside and freeing his fat cock in one quick motion. he was already so hard, tip flushed and leaking pre, and he didnāt even wait, just pulled you down onto him in one smooth thrust.
āfuck,ā he hissed through his teeth, head tipping back against the seat, eyes half lidded as he watched you take every fat inch. you gasped loudly, hands bracing on his chest, the stretch burning so good you couldnāt think.
he let you set the pace at first, palms on your ass guiding but not forcing, watching your face the whole time with that lazy smirk that didnt reach his eyes, they were darker now, jealous and hungry.
you rocked slowly then faster, thighs burning already from the angle and how deep his cock is, feeling him in your tummy every time he bottoms out inside of your fluttering cunt. little whimpers spills out of you every time he hit that spot deep inside, making your eyes roll back. ākeiā¦ haahhā¦ feels sāgoodā¦ā your voice came out all breathy and broken, hips stuttering when he bucked up sudden.
ākeep going,ā he murmured, voice low and rough, one hand slipping up to wrap around your throat just enough to make your head spin. not squeezing hard yet, just holding, thumb stroking your pulse. āride me like u mean it, baby.ā the words were filthy in that soft tone he only ever used with you, and it made your cunt clench around him so tight he groaned, hips snapping up sharper.
your legs started aching after a few minutes, thighs trembling from the constant bounce, sweat already beading on your skin. ākeiā¦ mālegsā¦ ahhā¦ canātā¦ too muchā¦ā you whined, voice cracking into a soft sob, forehead dropping to his shoulder as you tried to keep moving anyway. he clicked his tongue, but his hands were gentle when he lifted you off him, cock sliding out of your creamy pussy all shiny and wet.
āget in the back.ā he didnāt have to ask twice. you scrambled over the console on shaky knees, landing on the leather with a soft huff. he followed right after, long body crowding you down onto your back, knees pushing your thighs wide and up till they pressed against your chest in a mating press, folding you in half so easy with his height and strong hands. he slid back in with one brutal thrust, burying his cock to the hilt and grinding deep and pounding you right from the start, the wet slap of skin echoing in the car.
āahākei!ā you cried out, back arching off the seat, hands flying up to clutch at his biceps against his shirt. he didnāt stop, hips snapping hard and fast, pounding you into the leather like he was trying to erase every second that guy had spent talking to you. the car rocked gently with every thrust, windows fogging up quick. his hand came back to you throat, fingers wrapping perfect around it this time, squeezing just right so you vision sparkled and every breath came out as a tiny choked moan.
āyouāre my girl, yeah? you hear me? all mine.ā he panted against your ear, voice all gravelly and low, moving to suck on your jaw and moving his lips to your slack mouth to kiss your sloppy and hungry, never once stopping the ruthless rhythm of his hips rutting into you. ātaking me so fucking deepā¦ look at you, all pretty and dripping just for me.ā he angled his hips meaner, cockhead hitting your battered cervix over and over till you were seeing stars, legs shaking in the air. the leather creaked under you, squealchy sounds of your pussy filling the car as he fucked you harder, sweat dripping from his hair onto your face.
you could barely form words anymore, everything spilling out in broken little sounds. āhnnā¦ ahhākeiā¦ sādeepā¦ too muchā¦ ahhnā¦ pleaseā¦ā your nails dug into his arms, body jolting with every snap of his hips, pussy clenching around his dick so tight it made his rhythm stutter for a second. he groaned low, free hand sliding down to rub messy circles over your swollen clit, thumb pressing hard.
āthatās itā¦ make those pretty noises for me,ā he murmured, eyes locked on your pretty fucked-out face, eyes rolled back, drool escaping from your open mouth. he watched every twitch and tear that slipped down your flushed cheeks.
he choked you a little tighter, just enough to make you gush around him, walls fluttering wild. āfuckā¦ so wetā¦ gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl? hm, baby?ā his hips never slowed and kept pounding you senseless, the slap slap slap so loud you were sure anyone walking by could hear but you couldnāt care, not when he was fucking you this good.
you legs kicked weakly in the air, overstimulation making everything fuzzy and hot. ākeiā¦ māgonnaāahhhn!ā you sobbed, body locking up as u came hard, your vision whiting out, thighs trembling against his chest. he fucked you right through it, chasing his own high, thrusts turning sloppy and deep till he buried himself to the brim and spilled inside you with a shaky groan, hips grinding slow to push every drop of his hot cum deeper. he came so much it started leaking out from his still balls-deep cock, dripping onto your ass and to the seat.
he stayed there for a long minute, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling hot and heavy. his hand loosened around your throat, turning into soft strokes along your jaw instead, thumb brushing away the tears. āgood girl,ā he whispered, voice softer now, pressing one lazy kiss to ur temple before carefully pulling out of your creamy and ruined cunt. you whined at the loss, all floaty and boneless as he helped you sit up, fixing your skirt with surprisingly gentle fingers.
later that night, after he drove and home and walked you to your dorm like nothing happened, your phone buzzed with a notification of keiās making a rare post on his instagram that he barely use. just one photo, taken earlier in the cafe when you werenāt looking - you smiling up at him, his hand resting on the back of your chair, thumb barely brushing your shoulder. no caption. just the picture n the little heart emoji he never used.
the comments flooded in fast (some are from the karasuno members saying heās finally softened up) but he didnāt care of the comments nor the likes. what matters is that everyone knew now. you were his. his girlfriend. end of story. amd when you texted him a tiny ākei u hack or sumth?ā he replied with this.
summary : y/n and chan are friends with benefits and through a prank she tries to learn his true intentions for her.
pairing : bang chan x reader (lee know as Y/Nās best friend)
genre : friends with benefits to lovers
word count : 4080
warnings : minor dni, 18+, smut, jealousy, possessiveness,explicit language, dirty talk, unprotected sex, angry sex, fingering, edging, begging, face fucking, doggy style, mention of spanking,mention of female receiving oral, breast play,hair pulling, biting/marking, creampie, empty threats (jokingly), angry and dom chan, menace lee know.
a/n : English isnāt my first language and I was a little tired when I wrote this, so please excuse any mistakes.
The relationship between Y/N and Chan was a masterclass in walking a tightrope. For nearly six months, they had perfected the "friends with benefits" dynamic. It was practicalāshe was a backup dancer, always in his orbit, and the company rules combined with their grueling schedules made a real relationship seem like an impossible dream.
Heād been the one to approach her, a kind smile softening his intense gaze, after a particularly grueling take. āYou killed thatā heād said, his voice a warm rumble against the studioās cool air. āSeriously, your timing is impeccable.ā Y/N, flustered but pleased, had laughed. āThanks. You guys are the ones doing the real heavy lifting.ā
That initial spark had quickly ignited into a comfortable friendship, then, inevitably, something more. They were both workaholics, driven by their respective creative passions, and found solace in each otherās company. Chan was intense, thoughtful, and unbelievably kind, while Y/N was fiery, independent, and always up for an adventure. Their chemistry was undeniable, a silent hum that vibrated between them whenever they were in the same room.
Then came the "friends with benefits" conversation, initiated by Chan himself. It made sense on paper: two busy adults, both craving intimacy without the messy complications of a full-blown relationship that neither had the time or mental capacity for. It was convenient, passionate and for a time, perfectly suited their needs.
Except, Y/N knew it was growing beyond that for her. She saw the way his jaw would subtly tighten when another male dancer complimented her, or the almost imperceptible pause before heād agree to her going out with other friends. And then there was Minho.
Minho was her rock, her confidante, her absolute best friend in the entire Stray Kids entourage. Theyād clicked instantly, their shared love for sarcasm, dance, and all things chaotic forming an unbreakable bond. Minho, with his sharp wit and even sharper observations, saw everything. He saw the way Chan looked at Y/N when he thought no one was watching, and he saw the suppressed longing in Chanās eyes. He also saw Y/Nās burgeoning feelings and Chanās stubborn refusal to address them.
Chan, despite being the one who proposed the friends with benefits arrangement, found himself battling a growing, unwelcome feeling of possessiveness. Heād tried to rationalize it ā a natural reaction to someone he was physically intimate with ā but the truth gnawed at him. Especially when Minho was involved. Minho, the menace, who loved to tease him, who knew exactly how to push Chanās buttons. Minho, who was always draped over Y/N, or whispering jokes in her ear, making her laugh that bright, uninhibited laugh that Chan secretly cherished. He wouldnāt admit the jealousy, not even to himself, because it would unravel the careful, detached facade heād constructed around their arrangement.
Y/N, however, was tired of the game. She wanted more. She wanted a confession, an admission from Chan that he felt the same way she did, that their casual arrangement was anything but. And she knew just the person to help her smoke him out.
On a Wednesday afternoon, Y/N received a message from a criminally bored Minho. Apparently, he had discovered a brand-new anime and had decided ā with zero hesitation ā that they had to watch it together.
Since Chan was going to be stuck at the studio until late that night, Y/N figured this was the universe handing her a free pass to hang out with her favorite human menace.
āIām bringing the snacks,ā she replied.
Thirty minutes later, she was already at his door.
They were sprawled on his and Jisungās dorm room floor, surrounded by empty takeaway containers and a half-watched anime series flickering on the large TV screen.Minho noticed something was off. Y/N wasnāt screaming at the screen or judging the charactersā life choices ā which was suspicious.
āWhatās going on in that chaotic head of yours?ā he asked, pausing the anime dramatically.
āMinā¦What if he sees me just as a fuck buddy?ā she blurted out. āWhat if he doesnāt care at all?ā
Minho stared at her.
āUgh.Are you stupid or something?ā
āIām serious, Minho! It was his idea.This wholeā¦ thing.ā
āAnd you agreedā he shot back. āThen his little dick made you fall in love with him, and now you want more. And youāre seriously dumb enough to think his clingy ass doesnāt feel the same?ā
At this point, he was basically reciting her own emotional breakdowns from memory.She sighed.
āThereās only one way to find outā she said,eyes lighting up. āAnd my little grumpy cat is going to help me.ā
āNo.ā
āYouāll be the protagonist.ā
āNo.ā
āYouāll make him suffer.ā
Minho paused.
She could see the exact moment the idea clicked.
āNow weāre talking.ā
Without wasting another second, Y/N explained her brilliant ā and slightly risky ā plan. Technically, Minho would be doing all the work. She just wanted one thing: Chanās reaction.
If he lost control?
Well.
That would be all the answer she needed.
āHeās going to kill meā Minho said, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face as he took another bite of his pizza.
āHeās going to kill usā Y/N corrected, giggling. āBut itās for a good cause. He needs a push, Minho. He thinks heās so slick, hiding behind ācasual.ā I need him to break.ā
Minho hummed, considering. āSo, the plan is: I get him to think Iāmā¦ deeply involved with you. Sexually. In this very room.ā
āPrecisely,ā Y/N said, adjusting the oversized hoodie sheād borrowed from Minho.
She was comfortable, safe, and utterly thrilled at the prospect of the chaos they were about to unleash.
āHeāll be at the studio with Jisung and Changbin. Perfect, because Jisung will be too engrossed in music and Changbin will be too busy being Changbin to notice Chanās meltdown immediately.ā
āExcellent psychology,Y/N.You know our leader well.ā Minhoās eyes glinted with mischief. āAlright. Consider it done. But you owe me big time for this.ā
āConsider your revenge on Chan for that time he stole your last pineapple juice already enacted,ā Y/N countered with a smirk.
It was nearing midnight, and the studio was buzzing with the low hum of machinery and the focused energy of creation. Chan, Jisung, and Changbin were in their individual zones, fine-tuning beats, lyrics, and melodies. Chan was particularly engrossed in a new track, his headphones clamped over his ears, fingers dancing across the mixing board.
His phone buzzed on the desk beside him. He glanced at it, a faint smile touching his lips when he saw Y/Nās name. Heād texted her earlier, just a casual check-in, and was expecting a quick reply. He tapped open the messageā¦ and saw no new reply from her. Weird. She was usually quick.
He sent another text. āHey, still at Minhoās? Anime marathon still going strong?ā
Minutes ticked by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Still nothing. His smile faltered. He knew she was at Minhoās; theyād talked about it on her way to his dorm.But Minho was also Minho. And Minho had a habit of beingā¦ handsy. Not with Y/N, not in a romantic way, but physically close. Heād drape an arm around her, playfully push her head, steal her snacks. Nothing overtly flirtatious, but enough to trigger a tiny, irrational spike of annoyance in Chan.
He typed another message, a little less casual this time. āEverything okay? Havenāt heard from you.ā
Another fifteen minutes passed. The studio was quiet now, Jisung having stepped out for a coffee run and Changbin deep in thought on a couch, headphones on. The lack of a reply from Y/N began to prickle at Chan. It wasn't like her to just vanish.
A slow, unsettling feeling began to creep into his gut. What were they doing? Just watching anime? Or was Minho being particularlyā¦ Minho tonight? He tried to shake off the irrational thought, but it clung to him like a damp blanket. He was the one who set the terms. Friends with benefits. No strings. So why did his stomach twist into a knot?
He scrolled through his contacts and found her name again. He hesitated for a moment, then dialed. It rang once, twiceā¦ then connected. But it wasn't Y/Nās voice he heard.
āHello?ā A muffled voice, slightly breathless, answered. It was Minho.Chanās jaw tightened.
āMinho? Whereās Y/N? Why isnāt she answering my texts? Why do you have her phone?ā His tone was sharper than he intended.
There was a slight pause on the other end, a rustling sound, like someone shifting their weight. āOh, Chan-ah. Yeah, sheāsā¦ a little busy right now. She canāt really get to the phone.ā Minhoās voice was low, laced with a casualness that grated on Chanās nerves.
āBusy with what?ā Chan asked, his voice now flat, devoid of its usual warmth. He gripped his phone tighter.
āYou know,ā Minho said, and Chan could almost hear the smirk in his voice. āImportant things. Likeā¦ catching up on some quality time.ā
Chanās mind raced, filling in the blanks with the worst possible scenarios.
āWhat are you talking about, Minho?ā he demanded, his irritation mounting. He knew what Minho was implying. He knew what Minho was capable of implying.
āSheās right here. On her knees, actually. To be honest, sheās doing such a good job I donāt think I want her to stop.ā Minho purred, and then a noise that sent an icy jolt down Chanās spine. It was a soft, drawn-out moan. Not a loud, exaggerated one, but a sensual, intimate sound that implied deep pleasure. āY/N, baby, donāt stopāChanās on the phone, say hi.ā Chan felt a sudden surge of heat, quickly followed by a cold wave of rage.
āMinho, if youāre fucking lying to meāā Chan started, his voice cracking with a mix of rage and disbelief. His knuckles whitened around his phone.
āI wouldnāt lie about something this good,ā Minho interrupted, his voice dripping with mock satisfaction. āSheās so good at this, Chan, running her tongueā¦ mmphā¦ just thereā¦ā
A strangled sound escaped Chanās throat. He could feel his face flushing, a primal heat coursing through his veins. He imagined Y/N, with her soft lips and nimble fingers, doingā¦ thatā¦ to Minho. The thought was like a physical blow. His best friend. The woman he was intimately involved with.
āIāll have her call you when weāre finished. Might be a while, though. Sheās real thirsty today.ā Minho practically whispered, making another soft, guttural moan, a little louder this time, perfectly timed, perfectly agonizing.
Chan slammed his hand on the desk, the loud thud echoing in the otherwise silent studio. Changbin, startled, looked up, pulling off his headphones. Chan ignored him, his eyes wide with fury and a sudden, sickening jealousy.
āTell her to get on the phone NOW, Minho!ā Chan roared, his voice cracking with rage. āI swear to god, if you donāt put her on the phone, Iām coming over there right now and Iām going to break both your legs!ā
Minhoās next sound was not a moan, but a burst of unadulterated laughter. A loud, ringing peal of mirth that was quickly joined by another, equally joyous laugh. Y/Nās laugh.Chan froze. The anger, the jealousy, the stomach-lurching fearā¦ all of it evaporated like mist in the sun, replaced by a profound, burning humiliation.
āYou absolute idiots!ā he bellowed into the phone, his face burning hot. His fury had not dissipated, but shifted, now directed at their sheer audacity.
Y/Nās voice, bubbly and breathless, finally broke through.
āGood job Min..We got himā
Chan was fuming, but beneath the anger, a flicker of something else began to stir. Relief. And a possessive warmth. She hadnāt been with Minho. Sheād been playing him. And heād fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.
āIām going to kill both of you,ā Chan said, but the threat lacked its earlier venom. He hung up the phone with a decisive click, his mind already racing.
Changbin, who had been watching the entire exchange with wide-eyed amusement, finally spoke up.
āEverything alright there, hyung? Sounded likeā¦ an intense call.ā Chan merely grunted, running a hand through his hair.
āEverything is just fine, Changbin. I just need toā¦ go take care of something.ā He grabbed his jacket, his keys, and stalked out of the studio, ignoring Changbinās confused expression.
His car ride to Y/Nās apartment was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Humiliation, yes, but also a growing resolve. She wanted to test him? Fine. Heād passed. Heād reacted exactly as sheād hoped, proving his feelings, even if he hadnāt admitted them aloud. But now, she was going to pay. He was going to make it abundantly clear that this ācasualā arrangement was anything but, and that she, Y/N, was his.
Y/N had barely been in her apartment for twenty minutes when the sound of her keypad being punched in echoed through the hallway.She was sitting on her sofa, a mischievous grin still playing on her lips, but a hint of nervousness flickered in her eyes as Chan stormed in, slamming the door shut behind him.
His eyes, dark with a mix of anger and something far more primal, locked onto hers. He didnāt say a word, just stared, demanding an answer.
āSo,ā she began, her voice a little shaky, āyouāre not actually going to break Minhoās legs, are you?ā
Chan stalked towards her, his movements slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey.
āMinho is going to get his. But right now, youāre the one who needs to be taught a lesson, baby.ā
His voice was low, rough, sending shivers down her spine.Y/N swallowed, suddenly aware of the potent shift in the atmosphere.
The playfulness was gone, replaced by an intense, almost terrifying edge. Part of her was scared, but a deeper, more primal part of her thrilled at the raw possessiveness emanating from him. This was exactly what she wanted, wasn't it? The breaking of his composure, the shedding of the fwb facade.
He loomed over her, hands braced on either side of her on the sofa, trapping her. His scent, a mix of studio sweat, his familiar cologne, and something distinctly masculine, filled her senses. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his muscles.
āYou played a dangerous game tonight, baby girlā he murmured, his eyes burning into hers. āMaking me thinkā¦ that he was touching you.ā His thumb traced the curve of her jaw, a possessive gesture that made her gasp.
āMaking me thinkā¦ that someone else was taking whatās mine.ā
Her breath hitched. Mine. Heād said it. The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight, with a possessiveness sheād craved.
āIā¦ I just wanted to know,ā she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips.
āKnow what?ā he demanded, his voice a low growl.
āIf you cared,ā she confessed, her voice barely audible. āIf I meant more than justā¦ convenience.ā
A flicker of something akin to hurt crossed his face, quickly replaced by a fierce intensity.
āConvenience?ā he scoffed, leaning in closer, his lips brushing hers. āDid that sound like convenience to you when I was ready to drive across the city and rip Minhoās throat out for daring to lay a finger on you?ā
He kissed her then, a hard, demanding kiss that left no room for doubt. It was rough, punishing, and utterly thrilling. He bit her lip, then plunged his tongue into her mouth, a claiming gesture that stole her breath. Y/N met his intensity with her own, her hands rising to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. He broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into her heavy-lidded eyes.
āYouāre mine, Y/N,ā he reiterated, his voice a raw whisper against her lips. āCasual or not youāre mine.You donāt belong on your knees for anyone but me.Do you understand?ā
āProve itā She dared him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, a mix of relief and overwhelming desire.
He lifted her from the sofa effortlessly, carrying her into the bedroom. He set her down gently on the bed, but the gentleness ended there. He stripped off his jacket, then his t-shirt, his lean, muscled body a testament to his dedication. His eyes never left hers, communicating a silent promise of what was to come.
He knelt on the bed above her, his hands going to the hem of her borrowed hoodie. With a decisive tug, he pulled it over her head, then discarded it, revealing the delicate lace of her bralette.He pulled down the straps freeing her breasts.His mouth latching onto her neck with sucking bites that would leave marksāhis marks.His hand palming her breast roughly, thumb flicking her nipple until it peaked.She squirmed beneath him, heat pooling between her legs as his free hand popped the button of her jeans.
She helped him, her fingers clumsy with anticipation.He shoved them down along with her panties in one swift motion.
The air in the room was thick with unspoken words, with raw, unbridled desire.
She was finally naked beneath him and his eyes tracing every curve of her body, a slow, possessive gaze that made her shiver.
āThis is what you wanted, isnāt it?ā he asked, his voice husky. āTo see me lose control?ā
āYes,ā she breathed, arching into his touch as his fingers traced a path from her hip to her inner thigh.
āGood.ā he growled, pushing her legs apart.
Cool air hit her bare skin, but his palm was there immediately, cupping her pussy possessively, fingers sliding through her growing wetness.
"Already soaked? Thinking about Minhoās filthy words get you this wet, or is it knowing I'm gonna fuck you senseless?" He plunged two fingers inside her without warning, curling them deep, pumping hard and fast. She cried out, hips bucking up to meet his hand, walls clenching around the intrusion. His thumb circled her clit, rough circles that made her vision blur.
āAnswer me Y/N.ā
āYou Chan.Only you can make me this wet.ā
The words spilled out on a moan as he added a third finger, stretching her, his mouth trailing down to suck a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. He worked her relentlessly, fingers scissoring inside, tongue lashing her breast until she was writhing, chasing the edge.
But he stopped abruptly, pulling his hand free, leaving her empty and aching. She whimpered in protest, but he was already standing next to the bed, jeans kicked away to free his cock, thick and veined, standing rigid against his abs. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, and he stroked himself once, eyes locked on hers, his expression raw and possessive.
āMinho said you were on your knees for him. Letās make that a reality for me, shall we?ā
He ordered her to kneel before him with her tongue out and she obeyed him without hesitation.He groaned at the sight, one hand fisting her hair, the other guiding his cock to her mouth. He teased the head along your tongue, coating himself in her saliva.She worked her tongue along the length of his cock and massaged his balls with one hand.
āOpen widerā He groaned and she followed his instruction,opening wider her mouth for him to put his cock in.
He started thrusting in her mouth, so deep that he was hitting the back of her throat and she gagged. Tears started to form in her eyes as he fucked her face. His head was thrown back, his lips were parted and his moans filled the room.
āYou think it was funny to have him tell me what you were doing to him? Do you want me to take a video and send him to see what this beautiful mouth is capable of?ā He said through gritted teeth as he pulled her head back by the hair abruptly leaving her out of breath in front of him.
āChan please..ā
āOn your knees. Ass up. Show me how much you want this dick, how much you want me."
She did as he told her, heart racing, as she climbed onto the bed on all fours, arching her back.He grabbed the cheeks of her butt, opened them and leaned between them, his tongue licking the inside of her folds.
āFuck, Channie please..I need youā she pleaded.
The vulnerability of the position made Y/N shiver, but the way Chanās hands gripped her hips, anchoring her to him, made her ache.
He didn't use a condomāthis was beyond their usual careful routine.He fisted her hair to pull her head back slightly, the other guiding his cock to her entrance. He entered her in one swift, heavy thrust, a low growl escaping his throat as he filled her. Y/N cried out, her fingers digging into the sheets as the friction sparked through her.
āIs this what he said you were doing?ā Chan hissed, his pace turning relentless. He wasn't being gentle. Each snap of his hips against hers was a punishment and a prayer.
"Minhoās got nothing on this. He can't fuck you like I do, can't make this pussy cream all over his cock."
She moaned his name, the dirty words fueling the fire, her body surrendering completely. He released her hair to slap her ass, repeatedly, the sting blooming into heat that made her push back harder, fucking herself on him.
He reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing in time with his thrusts, each one deeper, harder, claiming every inch. Sweat dripped down his chest, muscles flexing as he pounded into her, possessive grunts filling the room.
"Cum for me. Show me you know who you belong toāgonna fill you up, mark you inside so you think of me every time you see him."
The pressure built unbearably, his cock dragging against her walls, hitting that spot that made her legs shake. She shattered around him, pussy spasming, gushing wetness down his length as waves of pleasure ripped through her. He didn't stop, fucking her through it, prolonging the bliss until tears pricked her eyes.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only feel the way he was marking her, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he neared his limit.
āTell me,ā Chan demanded, āWhose are you?ā
āYours,ā Y/N sobbed, her head hanging low, her hair shielding her face. āChan, please... Iām yours.ā
āLouder.ā
āIām yours! Only yours!ā
That was all it took. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself and came, hot spurts flooding her core, his groan raw and animalistic. He collapsed over her, still inside, lips pressing to her shoulder.
"Mine," he whispered, softer now, hand stroking her side. "Don't forget it."
The prank had unleashed something raw and untamed in him, a protective fury that had been simmering beneath the surface of their casual arrangement. He wanted her to feel it all, to understand the depth of his feelings, to never doubt again where she stood with him.
The silence that followed was heavy, filled only with the sound of their labored breathing. After a long moment, Chan shifted, rolling them over so she was tucked into his side. He kissed the top of her head, his grip still firm, as if afraid she might vanish.
āDonāt ever do that again,ā he whispered, his voice returning to the gentle tone she knew, though the edge of possessiveness remained.
āI think I got the message, Channie.ā Y/N leaned into him, her body sore but her heart strangely full.
āGood,ā he murmured, pulling the covers over them. āNow call Minho and tell him if he ever touches your phone again, Iām kicking him out of the group.ā Y/N laughed softly.
āHeās really lucky he is my friend,ā he mumbled, his voice hoarse, āBecause I almost drove over there.ā He propped himself up on an elbow to look at her.
She chuckled, a contented sound. āI know,ā she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. āI wanted you to.ā
He sighed, running a hand through her still-damp hair, his arm tightening around her waist.
āAnd just to be clear,ā he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below her ear, āweāre not just friends with benefits anymore, Y/N.ā
She smiled, a wide, triumphant smile as she nestled deeper into his embrace catching his lips in a soft kiss.
The prank had worked. And the lesson had been taught, in the most primal, unforgettable way possible. She was his, and he was hers, and no convenient arrangement could ever hide the undeniable truth of their hearts.
cw: somnophilia, lots of begging and teasing, handjob, blowjob, channie has sensitive balls, cute fluff in the end per usual. lmk if i missed anything!!
chan was out celebrating out jeongin's birthday with the rest of their friends last night. he'd reassured you that he'd come at a reasonable hour and that he would try to be sober. but when he'd stumbled into your shared apartment with his face flushed and his words barely making sense, you surmised that he drank more than he was planning.
you had woken up early the next day. brushing you teeth and padding barefoot to the kitchen to make breakfast. filling up a cup of water and some painkillers for chan to find on the bedside table when he woke up. when you walked into your shared room, though, you had an idea pop up in your head.
your eyes immediately got pulled to his body lying there as you entered your room. only in his boxers, his bare chest heaving up and down with steady breaths. one arm by his side, the other tucked behind his head, his legs sprawled up in the sheets.
you set the water and medicine on the bedside table. eyeing him while your stomach twisted at the ideas you were getting. you'd be lying if you weren't nervous. you knew chan was okay with that kind of thing. his words being "you can do whatever you want with me, baby. im okay with anything as long is its you"
you tiptoed your way around the bed, kneeling next to where his legs rested. chan was a deep sleeper, especially that he'd partied his brains out yesterday, he could sleep through an earthquake. 'perfect' you thought.
he looked so peaceful. blond curles peaking through. face glowing from the sun peaking from the windows. his mouth parted in steady breathes. plump lips tempting you to leave a wet kiss on them.
you knelt down on your knees, trailing your fingertips around his nipples, then trailing down to his abs. his cock jumping in his boxers when you trailed further down. chan had the sexiest happy trail ever. you passed your fingertips through the trail of hair as you heard his mouth part in a sigh, still asleep.
You swallowed hard, you were starting to see the appeal in this. He was completely at your mercy, and he liked it. you tugged at his boxers just enough to let his cock and balls out as you kept a watchful gaze on his face. eyebrows twitching slightly when you reached out to tug at his cock.
chan's abs tightened every time you stroked his cock. stoping at the top before reaching your thumb out to rub small circles at his tip, his cock fully hardened now with pre seeping through his tip down your palm.
"theeeree you go" you whispered. focusing your attention on the top half of his cock. jerking off his sensitive tip. his lips parting fully now in a soft grunt. your legs instinctively tightening, desperate to relieve the aching heat in your cunt.
chan was stirring more now, he wont be asleep for much longer. his breaths uneven and his face contorted compared to his peaceful state prior. legs and abs flexing more, cock fully standing up before you, thick cock straining against your hand as you focus your ministrations on his tip, making more pre-cum spill out, lubricating your strokes and making a filthy squelching sound with every move.
Sliding your hand down to the base of his cock, you grabbed his hip with your free hand and angled his cock slightly down to your mouth. You stuck out your tongue and let your hot breath tease his cock, making it twitch harshly before you gave it a few soft taps against your tongue, the small taste of it alone making your tastebuds erupt with the salty-sweet flavor of his cum.
Wasting no more time, you took him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his cock. taking as much of him as you could, fighting back a cough when his length stretched your throat. eyes watering and drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as he let out a loud groan, hips involuntarily thrusting into your mouth.
you pull his cock out of your mouth as you start fully stroking from shaft to tip, your spit and his pre making your movement quick and smooth and loud. leaning down to take his balls into your mouth. and that was when he woke up with a grunt.
one hand reaching to rub the sleep off his eyes as his other arm going from the back of his head reaching down to his cock, or atleast trying to. but he was met with your hair, his hand resting on your head as you suckled on his balls and stroked his cock tightly.
"ohāfuckkk baby?" he let out a loud groan, his hips thrusting up into your palm as he looked down to watch the scene unfolding beneath him, you looking up at him with teary eyes, hands speeding up on his cock.
There was still sleep flooding his eyes, making his vision slightly blurred but he couldn't mistake the sight of your gorgeous face, sucking on his balls while you jerked him off. "oh babyāohhh fuck" chan groaned. jaw falling slack at the sight below him
you unlatched your mouth from his balls as he hissed at the loss of your warm mouth, his balls now exposed to the cool air. "mornin' channie. how'd you sleep?" replacing your hand on his cock with your mouth before giving him a chance to answer, taking him deeply down your throat. taking him with renewed ease as you set one of your hands on his thigh and the other around his hipbone. hollowing your cheeks around his cock as much as you can, eyes tearing up.
I-holy shittt baby so tight, oh fuck" he groaned. trying to answer your question but getting lost in the pleasure. his fingers pulling at your hair as you bobbed your head up and down, a moan of pained pleasure leaving your mouth, sending vibrations that sent pleasure shooting up his spine. throwing his head back against the pillows with a loud moan. "s'goodāohmygod you feel so good baby".
"I fucking love you so much, holy shit." chan groaned in his deep, sleepy voice. You had to fight back a smile, not wanting him to feel any teeth as you sucked him off. "keep goingāim so close"
you released his cock with a loud 'pop!' as you stuck your tongue out. sucking the tip a few times before slapping it against your tongue causing him to roll his eyes to the back of his head at the lewd sight. groaning as his hips stuttered in your hold.
"Keep going, s-suck my balls again baby, please." He begged. His voice was so much deeper than usual, it was so raspy and needy, it made you grind down into the bed, rubbing your clit against the inside of your thighs pressed so tightly together. you brought both hands up, wrapping both of them around his cock as you reached down to suck his balls. eyes on him watching him unravel. his head thrashing against the pillow with his brows knit together and his mouth parted in loud moans of your name.
"yesyesyesyesyes suck them harder baby-" chan was a mess under you. his hands gripping the sheets as his back arched off the bed. "dont stopāoh fuck im gunna cumām'cumming!" chan whimpered out, his voice moaning your name as you let go of his balls and sticking your tongue out infront of his tip. white, long spurts of cum coating you face and hands, making a mess as you slowly jerked him down from his high. is moans turning in to soft sighs as he tried to catch his breath
"keep doing that everyday and i might just have to put a ring on your finger" chan muttered voice thick with pleasure and sleepiness and love. "oh shut up you doofus, breakfast is ready in the kitchen" you smile through your words, grabing a towel to clean him up.
a/n: blond chan is actually making me so feral its concerning. hope you enjoyed if u made it to the end you freaks :) likes and reblogs are soo appreciated!!
( ģ ģø ) š¾n which ļøµ you're the girl with ribbons in her hair and a love for chan that runs deeper than anyone realizes. while he tries to protect your soft, gentle heart from the world, he has no idea that youāre quietly removing anyone who dares to stand in his way.
mdni 77O5 age gap ( 7 years / reader is 21 & chan is 28 ) yandere themes graphic violence toxic dynamics murder & homocide manipulation threats of self-harm gaslighting & deception sasaeng behavior blood & gore emotional trauma reader is a deeply flawed character coquette & soft!rea
deadass sat down and wrote it all in one go. brainworms go crazy
āØļø like&&reblog for a kiss. āā #click4masterlist to see more.
THE FIRST TIME it happens, itās so impulsive that you want to consider it an accident. itās not, though. not really.
your entire life, youāve loved loudly. youāve loved big. for someone as quiet as you, itās a bit of a contradiction. youāre the girl who speaks in a near-whisper, who wears lace socks and silk ribbons that flutter when you walk, and who ducks her head the second a stranger makes eye contact. you look like something fragileāsomething that needs to be kept in a glass case.
but inside, your heart is heavy and demanding. when you fell for chan, you didn't just fall; you submerged.
it started at that fan-meet, back when you were twenty and still vibrating with the nervous energy of a fan. youād spent weeks working up the courage to wear that specific outfitāa soft cream cardigan and a skirt with tiny embroidered cherriesāhoping that if he ever saw you, heād see someone worth protecting.
now, a year later, heās your person.
heās the one who shields you from the crush of a subway crowd by tucking you under his chin, his broad chest acting as a literal wall between you and the world. heās the one who orders your tea because he knows the wobble in your voice better than you do.
to everyone else, youāre just chanās sweet, dainty girlfriend. the quiet one. the one who blushes when the other members tease her.
they don't see the way your mind works. they don't see the other side of your soft natureāthe part of you that wants to sew your name into the lining of every single one of his hoodies so he can never truly take you off.
itās a soft sort of obsession. itās not sharp or loud; itās hidden in the way you organize his vitamin drawer by color, or the way youāve memorized the exact scent of his detergent so you can recognize it on him from across the room.
you don't just want to be loved by him; you want to be the only thing he breathes.
sometimes, when heās asleep in the studio and youāre bringing him a home-cooked meal, you just sit there and watch the rise and fall of his chest. you think about how easy it would be to just stay here forever, to lock the door and keep the rest of the busy, loud world away from your channie.
he thinks youāre his angel. he thinks your shyness is a sign of your purity. and you areāyouāre his, entirely. but youāre also the girl who once spent three hours scrolling through his old tagged photos just to make sure you knew every person who had ever dared to touch his arm.
you love him so much it hurts your teeth. you love him with a gentleness that masks a terrifying depth.
tonight, the apartment is quiet. the dim light of the hallway hits the lace on your sleeves as you stand by the bed, watching him sleep. he looks so tired, his curls messy against the pillow. he looks like he belongs to the world when heās awake, leading his team and carrying the weight of a thousand expectations.
but here, in the dark, he only belongs to you.
you reach out, your fingers trembling slightly as you trace the line of his jaw. youāre careful not to wake him. you just want to make sure heās still there. you want to make sure no one else has tried to take a piece of him today.
"my channie," you whisper, the sound so soft it doesn't even disturb the air.
it wasn't an accident. the way youāve slowly, quietly wound yourself into every fiber of his life was the most intentional thing youāve ever done.
killing her wasn't an accident, either.
the humanities project was supposed to be a simple grade, but jiyoon made it feel like an endurance test.
you sat on the edge of the stiff dorm chair, your hands folded neatly in your lap, looking every bit the doll chan always called you. your lace-trimmed sleeves brushed against the cold desk as you waited for jiyoon to stop scrolling through her phone.
sheād been making you do the bulk of the research for three hours now, occasionally tossing a condescending comment your way.
"you're so quiet, it's actually kind of creepy," jiyoon muttered, not even looking up. "do you ever actually have an opinion, or do you just nod at everything i say?"
you gave her a small, shy smileāthe one that usually made people leave you alone. "i just want to make sure we get the work done right," you say.
jiyoon rolled her eyes, sighing loudly. sheād been taking advantage of your soft nature since the first day of the semester, treating you more like a personal assistant than a partner.
you didn't mind the extra work, and you didn't mind her sharp tongue when it was aimed at you. you were used to being perceived as weak, and if being the quiet, helpful girl made the day go faster, youād play the part perfectly.
but then, the air in the room shifted.
your phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up to show the time. the wallpaper was a blurry, candid photo of chanās handājust his hand, veins prominent as he worked at his midi controllerābut the music player widget was what caught jiyoonās eye. one of chanās solo tracks was playing through your earbuds.
jiyoon leaned over, squinting at the screen, and made a face like sheād just smelled something rotting. "ugh, you actually listen to him? i thought you had better taste."
you felt a tiny, sharp prick in your chest. "heās... heās a very talented producer," you said, your voice barely audible.
"he's a joke," jiyoon scoffed, turning back to her own laptop. "stray kids is just noise. and that leader? please. heās so dramatic, always acting like heās the only one who works hard. heās lazy, honestly. half the stuff he produces sounds like a toddler hitting a keyboard. i don't get why anyone wastes their time on a guy who clearly doesn't care about the music."
the room went very, very still.
to jiyoon, she was just venting about a celebrity she didn't like. she didn't know that the "lazy leader" was the man who tied your bows for you. she didn't know he was the one who held you until you fell asleep when your anxiety got too loud. she didn't know that every note he wrote was a piece of his soul that he gave to the worldāand to you.
you didn't yell. you didn't cry. you didn't even look up from your notes.
the only sign of your heartbeat was the way your knuckles turned white as you gripped your pen. your mind, usually so soft and pink and filled with kindness, went cold. it was a strange, clinical sort of cold. in your head, you weren't looking at a classmate anymore; you were looking at a glitch in the world.
something that needed to be corrected.
if she could be this cruel about someone so perfect, someone who did nothing but give and give until he was exhausted, then she didn't deserve to breathe the same air he did.
"i'm going to go grab some more paper from my bag," you murmured, your voice as sweet and gentle as sugar.
jiyoon didn't even turn around. "whatever. hurry up."
the sound of the chair's wood splintering against jiyoonās skull was much louder than you expected, a sharp crack that echoed off the sterile dorm walls.
for a second, the only other sound was the tiny, rhythmic tinny noise bleeding out of your earbudsāchanās voice, filtered through layers of production, singing something sweet and low.
jiyoon didn't even have time to gasp. she just crumpled, sliding off her desk chair like a puppet with its strings cut. a stray highlighter rolled off the desk and clicked onto the floor, settling right next to her hand.
you stood there, chest barely heaving, still holding the broken leg of the chair. your knuckles were white, the delicate fabric of your sleeve slightly frayed from the force of the swing. you felt... light. airy. like the heavy, suffocating cloud of her words had finally been scrubbed clean from the room.
lazy leader.
horrible producer.
noise.
the words had felt like physical scratches on your skin. you could handle it when she called you "useless" or "spacey" earlier in the afternoon. you were used to being a doormat; you quite liked the quiet life of being overlooked.
but the second sheād pointed those jagged, ugly thoughts at himāat the man who stayed up until 4:00 am making sure every snare hit was perfect, the man who held you until your tremors stoppedāsomething in your brain simply disconnected.
you set the broken piece of wood down on the desk, right next to the humanities textbook.
you didn't feel the horror the movies always talked about. there was no cold sweat or racing pulse. instead, you felt a deep, profound sense of justice. to you, the world was a garden, and jiyoon was a weed that had tried to choke the most beautiful thing in it. you were just gardening.
calmly, you pulled a stray ribbon from your pocket and re-tied the bow in your hair, catching your reflection in the darkened window. you looked the same. soft. adorable. twenty-one and harmless.
you spent the next twenty minutes working with a quiet, domestic efficiency. you moved jiyoonās body toward the closet, your small frame straining only slightly. you wiped the blood from the floor with her own extra bedsheets, moving in methodical circles until the linoleum shined.
once the room looked acceptable, you sat back down at the desk. you opened the shared document for your project and finished the last three slides. your typing was steady, your spelling perfect. you even added a little decorative border to the final page because you liked things to look pretty.
before you left, you pulled out your phone. the screen brightened, showing a photo of chan holding a bouquet of lilies heād bought you last yesterday. his dimples were deep, his eyes crinkling with that protective, soul-deep warmth.
you smiled back at the screen, your heart swelling until it felt like it might burst.
to: channie ā”
just finished my project! iām headed home now. i hope you arenāt working too hard, baby. make sure to drink some water for me? i love you so, so much. sleep well. āø(ļ½”Ė įµ Ė )āøā”
you hit send and watched the little 'delivered' icon appear. then, you tucked your phone into your quilted bag, smoothed down your skirt, and stepped out into the hallway.
the air outside the dorm was cool and crisp. you walked home with a skip in your step, humming the melody of his latest track, feeling lighter than you had in years. the world was a better place now. it was quieter. it was safer for him.
when you finally got into your own bed and curled up under your pink duvet, you fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of your life.
the second time was different. you made up your mind instantly, the second you saw her. it was easier this timeāmore efficient, quicker. the hesitation that usually lived in your bones was gone, replaced by a cold, humming clarity.
it was that sasaeng from a week ago. the one who had cornered him outside the gym at one in the morning when he was exhausted and alone. you remembered how chan looked when he finally came home that nightāhis shoulders slumped, his eyes weary and clouded with a mix of frustration and fear he tried so hard to hide from you.
he wasn't expecting to be jumped like that, and seeing the clips of her pulling at his clothes and shoving a camera in his face had made your blood turn to ice.
you had masked it well, of course. you had just held him closely, peppering soft kisses all over his face and whispering sweet things until his breathing evened out.
you didn't want to make him feel worse by showing your own rage. but every time you saw her face in those viral clips, your jaw clenched so hard it ached. you didn't know her name or her life, but you knew her sins.
luck was on your side today.
you were at the bookstore, reaching for a collection of poetry, when you saw her. the same beady eyes, the same hair, the same disgusting smile that didn't sit right on her face. you slid the book back onto the shelf, your touch feather-light, eyes never leaving her.
the sun was setting as she finally checked out, casting long, bruised shadows across the pavement. you followed her outside, your heart beating a steady, calm rhythm. you didn't really have a plan, but your feet moved with a strange, magnetic purpose.
your soft, lace-up boots made no sound on the concrete as you kept a distance, looking like nothing more than a girl headed home after a quiet afternoon.
she turned into a shortcutāa dark, narrow alleyway tucked between two towering brick buildings. the golden hour light didn't reach down here; it was damp and smelled of old rain.
your eyes scanned the ground, landing on a discarded metal pipe leaning against a rusted dumpster. it was heavy, cold, and solid. when you picked it up, it felt right. it felt like justice.
there was no internal debate. there was no shaking of your hands. you just thought of chanās face when heād been backed into that corner a week agoāhow heād looked so small and uncomfortableāand you knew what had to be done.
she didn't even hear you come up behind her. the first strike was for his peace of mind. the second was for the way sheād made him feel unsafe in his own city. the third was for your own satisfaction, and the fourth was because you liked the feeling.
standing over her in the deepening shadows, you felt a strange sense of serenity. the world was a messy place, but you were slowly cleaning it up for him, one person at a time. you didn't feel like a monster; you felt like his secret.
you dropped the pipe, smoothed down the front of your dress, and checked your reflection in a dark window. your hair was still perfectly curled. you looked exactly like the girl chan lovedāthe one who wouldn't even hurt a fly.
you turned and walked out of the alley, blending back into the evening crowd, your mind already drifting to what you should cook for him when he got home.
loving chan was the easiest thing youād ever done.
maybe thatās why protecting him came so naturally to you. it wasn't that you had a taste for the violence itself; the act was just a means to an end. what you really loved was the feeling of safety you were building for him, brick by brick, in a world that seemed determined to tear him down.
okay, maybe you did have a taste for the violence.
he worked too hard every single day to be treated so poorly. you saw the dark circles under his eyes and the way heād sigh into your hair when he finally collapsed onto the sofa. he gave everything to his music, to his members, and to the fansāeven the ones who didn't deserve him. in your eyes, a threat wasn't a person; it was a toxin.
and you were just the filter, keeping the air around him clean.
the strange thing was, you didn't feel like you were changing. when you were with him, you were still the same soft-spoken girl who wore bows in her hair and blushed at his dimpled smile. you kept those parts of your life in separate boxes, locked away where the light of his goodness couldn't touch the shadows of your work.
you often wondered what he would say if he knew. he loved you with a depth that sometimes made you dizzy, but chan wasn't a violent man. he was a healer, a leader, a protector in the traditional sense.
he wouldn't understand the cold, clinical way you viewed eliminating the things that hurt him. he would be horrified, and that was the one thing you couldn't handleāseeing him look at you with anything other than those warm, melting heart-eyes.
but he did love you... so maybe he would get it. you trusted that he would, if the time ever came.
it felt like a fair trade-off. chan spoiled you with the fruits of his labor; he bought you the lace dresses you loved, the designer purses that looked so dainty on your shoulder, and the jewelry that sparkled against your skin.
he gave you his hard-earned money and his even more precious time. thisāthis quiet, dark vigilāwas the very least you could do for him. it was your way of balancing the scales.
he never grew suspicious. why would he? you were his angel, his soft girl, who needed him to open jars and shield her from loud crowds. you covered your tracks with the same meticulous care you used when picking out an outfit.
sometimes youād come back to the dorm later than usual, your breath a little short or your sweater slightly disheveled. sometimes youād be more tired, curling into his side and falling asleep before the movie even started. heād just kiss your forehead and tuck the blanket around you, murmuring about how hard you were working for your exams.
"you're doing so well, baby," heād whisper, his voice full of pride. "just don't overwork yourself for uni, okay? i've got you."
youād just hum and press your face into his neck, breathing in his scent. he had no idea that while he was protecting your future, you were busy protecting his present. and as long as you stayed his quiet, adorable girl, he never had to know.
sometimes, it was harder to keep composed.
like now, for instance. the air in the apartment felt heavy, though chan couldnāt quite put his finger on why. he was sitting on the sofa, a laptop balanced on his knees, but his eyes kept drifting to you.
you were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, a embroidery hoop in your hands, but you hadnāt pulled a single stitch in ten minutes. your shoulders were tightāa tiny, sharp tension that didn't fit your usual soft silhouette. usually, when you were together, you were like a cat, melting into his space, seeking out his warmth.
tonight, you were like a statue carved from ice.
chan set his laptop aside, the movement deliberate. "baby?"
you didn't jump, but the way your head turned toward him was slow, almost mechanical. your eyes looked wide, darker than usual in the dim lamplight. "yeah, channie?"
your voice was still that sweet, breathless whisper, but there was a jagged edge to it. earlier that evening, things hadn't gone as cleanly as they had normally. there had been a struggleāa slip on wet pavement, a muffled shout that nearly drew attention, the frantic feeling of losing control for just a second.
the issue hadn't been corrected as smoothly as you liked, and the lingering adrenaline was making your skin itch.
chan slid off the sofa to join you on the floor, his hand reaching out to cover yours. you flinchedājust a fractionābefore forcing yourself to relax under his touch.
"your hands are freezing," he murmured, his brow furrowing. he took your hand in both of his, rubbing your skin to warm it up. he noticed a small, dark smudge on your lace cuffāsomething youād missed in your haste to get home. "did something happen at the library today? you seem... quiet. even for you."
"just tired," you lied, your heart hammering against your ribs. you hated lying to him, but you hated the thought of him seeing that itch under your skin even more. "i have an assignment that's just a lot of work. i think i stayed too late."
chan leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. he smelled like clean laundry and expensive coffee, a scent that usually grounded you instantly. tonight, it felt like a reminder of how much you had to lose.
"you're shaking, love," he whispered, his leader voice coming outāthat deep, steady tone he used when he was worried about the members. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, shielding you like he always did. "you've been pushing yourself too hard. i don't like seeing you this stressed. if those people in your group are giving you a hard time again, you need to tell me."
you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes tight. his protectiveness was so beautiful, so pure. he wanted to protect you from mean classmates and heavy workloads, while you were out there staining your skirt to protect him from the world's rot.
"i'm okay now," you breathed, clutching the back of his hoodie. "i just need you to hold me."
"how'd that project go, by the way?"
"huh?" you asked, voice muffled.
he reminded you, gentle, "the humanities one?"
"oh. that. it was alright. my partner moved away, so i just finished it on my own." the lie was easy. smooth. you didn't think twice, not in the comfort of his arms, and he didn't question it.
chan squeezed you tighter, his hand stroking your hair, smoothing down your ribbons. "i've always got you. you know that, right? nothing is going to happen to you while i'm around."
you nodded against his skin, a small, content smile pulling at the corners of your mouth that he couldn't see. i know, channie, you thought. and i'll make sure nothing ever happens to you, either. no matter what i have to do.
the afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains of chan's living room, casting soft, warm honey streaks across the carpet. it was a rare day off, the kind where the world seemed to slow down just for the two of you.
chan was sprawled out on the sofa, his head resting comfortably in your lap. he looked smaller like this, away from the stage lights and the heavy responsibility of being a leader.
his eyes were closed, a small sigh escaping his lips every time your fingers carded through his soft, messy curls. you were careful with him, your touch as light as a whisper, the lace of your sleeves occasionally brushing against his forehead.
for a long time, the only sound was the distant hum of the city and the steady rhythm of his breathing. but then, his brow furrowed, a tiny crease appearing between his eyes that you desperately wanted to smooth away.
"i try so hard to see the best in everyone," he began, his voice low and unusually strained. "you know i do. but this new staff member... i don't know, love. i watched him during the trainee evaluation today. he was so unnecessarily harsh with the younger kids. just... belittling them. and when i tried to step in and pull him aside for a quiet word, he didn't even listen."
you stopped moving your fingers for a split second, your heart skipping a beat. "he didn't?" you prompted softly.
chan let out a dry, frustrated laugh, rubbing his face with his hands. "no. he told me to stay in my lane. told me i was just an idol and that i didn't know the first thing about 'real' discipline. he said some pretty nasty things about my leadership, too. called me soft. said i was the reason the kids were 'weak.'"
the air in the room didn't change, but inside, that stillness took over your chest. you looked down at himāat the man who spent his nights making sure everyone else was okay, the man who carried the weight of the world on his shouldersāand felt a surge of protectiveness so strong it made your fingertips tingle.
it wasn't right. someone like that shouldn't be allowed to breathe the same air as chan, let alone speak to him with such disrespect. he worked too hard to be insulted by someone so insignificant.
"that's horrible, channie," you murmured, your voice as sweet and gentle as ever. you leaned down, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to his temple. "you're the best leader they could ever ask for. he's wrong for saying those things to you."
chan sighed, leaning his face into your palm, finally relaxing as the tension began to drain out of him. "thanks, baby. i shouldn't even be venting to you about work stuff on our day off. i just... it really got under my skin."
"it's okay. you can tell me anything," you said, your thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. you waited a beat, making sure your voice stayed perfectly level, perfectly innocent. "what was his name again? just so i know who to stay away from if i ever come by the building?"
chan didn't even open his eyes. he felt so safe here, in your lap, wrapped in your lace and your quiet love. "kim dae-ho. heās one of the new coordinators for the basement studios. but don't worry about it, angel. i'll figure out a way to handle it professionally."
"kim dae-ho," you repeated under your breath, the name tasting like something that needed to be erased. you went back to stroking his hair, your movements rhythmic and soothing. "i'm sure it'll all work out, channie. don't think about him anymore. just rest."
as he drifted off to sleep under the comfort of your touch, you stared out the window, a small, serene smile playing on your lips.
and the moment chanās breathing shifted into the deep, rhythmic pull of sleep, the softness in your gaze didn't disappearāit just sharpened. you continued to stroke his hair for several minutes, ensuring he was truly under, before you carefully slid out from beneath him.
you replaced your lap with a plush velvet pillow, moving with the practiced silence of someone who spent their life trying not to be noticed.
standing in the center of the sun-drenched living room, you looked every bit the girl he loved. your ribbons were straight, your lace was pristine, and your expression was calm. but as you reached for your phone, your mind was already miles away, navigating the layout of the companyās basement studios.
you didn't go to your closet for something dark or utilitarian. instead, you kept on your softest cardigan and your dainty boots. your best weapon was the fact that no oneānot even a man as intuitive as chanācould ever look at you and see a threat. you were just a girl going for a late-afternoon walk.
you spent the next hour in the quiet of your own room, perched on the edge of your bed. you didn't need a complex plan; you just needed a window of time. you searched the public company directories and social media tags until you found him.
kim dae-ho. he was older, with a face that looked like it enjoyed the power he held over those younger than him.
you felt no heat, no trembling anger. it was just a quiet, heavy necessity. chan was the sun, and people like dae-ho were the clouds trying to choke out his light. it was only natural to clear the sky for him.
you tucked a small, heavy object into your knitted bagānothing that would look out of place, just something substantial enough to get the job done. as you walked back through the living room, you paused by the sofa. chan was still asleep, looking so peaceful that a lump formed in your throat.
he was too good for this world. he was too kind to do what needed to be done to the people who spit on his hard work. you leaned over and tucked the blanket closer to his chin, pressing a ghost of a kiss to the air above his forehead.
"i'll be back soon, channie," you whispered to the quiet room. "i'm just going to make sure your tomorrow is a little bit brighter."
you stepped out into the hallway, the click of the door being the only evidence you were ever there. the sun was starting to dip lower, painting the city in shades of deep violet and bruised orangeāthe perfect colors for a girl who loved loudly in the dark.
a week later, on the walk back to your apartment was quiet, the night air cooling the skin on your face. you were exhausted, but it was a good kind of tiredāthe kind that followed a long day of lectures followed by a quick, clinical bit of business.
this one hadn't been about chan. it hadn't been about a project partner or a stalker, either. it was just a man youād seen at the bus stop, someone who had been rude to an elderly woman, someone who just... didn't fit the world you wanted to live in. you didn't even know his name. youād just felt that familiar, cold itch under your skin and decided to scratch it.
there was a small, sticky patch of red on the side of your cream-colored knit top, but it was dark enough outside that no one would notice. you just wanted to get inside, take a hot shower, and maybe text chan a heart emoji before passing out.
you unlocked your door and stepped inside, clicking the light on.
"surprise!"
you jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. chan was standing in your tiny living room, looking incredibly soft in a oversized black hoodie. heād moved your coffee table and spread out a mountain of pillows and blankets on the floor. there were bags of your favorite chips, two bowls of popcorn, and your laptop was already pulled up to the movie youād mentioned wanting to see weeks ago.
"channie," you breathed, the shock fading into a rush of relief. "what are you doing here?"
he grinned, those deep dimples popping as he walked over to you. "i had a few hours off and wanted to surprise my favorite girl. you looked so stressed this morning, i thought we could use a marathon."
he pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tight. you melted against him, hiding your face in his chest. the smell of himāhis laundry detergent and that woody cologneāinstantly smoothed over the jagged edges of your day. for a moment, you forgot about the man at the bus stop. you forgot about the smudge on your side.
you were just chan's girl again.
"you're the best," you murmured into his hoodie.
"i know, i know," he teased, kissing the top of your head.
you both settled onto the floor, tucked under the heavy blankets. the movie started, but chan was in a talkative mood, rambling softly about his week.
"itās been weirdly quiet at the building lately," he said, reaching for a handful of popcorn. "remember that guy i told you about? kim dae-ho? he hasn't shown up for work in three days. no call, no nothing. management is losing their minds trying to find a replacement. itās like he just vanished."
you felt a tiny, sharp tensed-up feeling in your shoulders. you kept your eyes on the screen, a small, sweet smile playing on your lips. "oh? maybe he just realized he wasn't cut out for the job."
chan hummed, but he didn't say anything else. he noticed the way youād stiffened, just for a second, but he brushed it off. you were probably just tired. uni was a lot of work, after all.
halfway through the movie, you felt a bit cramped from sitting in one position. you let out a little sigh and stretched your arms high above your head, the knit of your top riding up just enough to reveal your waist.
chanās eyes drifted toward you, but then they froze. his entire body went still.
"wait," he said, his voice dropping all the playfulness. he reached out, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. "wait, wait. what is that?"
you looked down, following his gaze. the light from the tv hit the dark, rust-colored stain on your side. it was smeared against your skin, a stark contrast to the pale cream of your clothes.
"oh my god, are you hurt?" chanās voice was climbing an octave, his hands shaking as he tried to pull the hem of your shirt up to check the wound. "what happened? did someone jump you? are you okay? why didn't you say anything?"
you looked at the blood, then back at him. you felt a weirdly calm, almost confused sensation. "no, no. iām fine, chan. itās okay."
"it's not okay! you're covered in blood!" he was hovering over you now, his face pale with genuine terror.
"it's not mine," you said softly.
chan stopped. his hands stayed frozen on the fabric of your shirt. he blinked, the words slowly sinking into his brain. "oh," he breathed, his shoulders dropping an inch. "oh, okay. thatās..."
he trailed off. he stared at you for three long seconds. "...wait, what?"
the silence in the room became deafening. the sounds of the movie playing in the background felt like they were miles away. chanās mind, usually so quick and sharp, was struggling to bridge the gap between the girl he knewāthe girl who liked silk ribbons and teacupsāand the words youād just said.
he laughed, a short, nervous sound. "what do you mean 'it's not yours'? did someone get hurt near you? did you help them?"
you didn't answer. you just watched him, your expression blank and peaceful.
the pieces started clicking together in his head, one by one. jiyoon, who had vanished mid-semester. the sasaeng, who hadn't been seen since that night in the alley. and now, dae-ho. he tried to push the thoughts away. it was crazy. it was the plot of a bad thriller. you were barely twenty-one. you were so delicate. you were his angel.
but the blood was right there. and you weren't crying. you weren't shaking.
he looked at you, really looked at you, searching for the girl he thought he knew.
"is there..." chan started, his voice barely a whisper, thick with a fear he couldn't hide. "is there something you're not telling me, angel?"
the silence in your living room felt like it was vibrating. the tv was still playing some mindless rom-com, the bright colors and canned laughter clashing violently with the look on chanās face.
he was still holding your arm, his thumb resting just inches away from the bloodstain on your shirt, but his grip had gone weak. he looked like he was seeing a ghost, or maybe like he was realizing the person in front of him was the ghost.
"itās not yours?" he repeated, his voice cracking. he let go of you as if youād suddenly turned into hot coal. "then whose is it? why is it on you, baby? did you see someone get hurt? did youā¦ did you call the police?"
you looked down at the red smudge. it was starting to dry, turning a darker, brownish hue against the cream knit. you felt a strange, detached sort of calmness. you weren't scared of him knowing.
a part of you had been waiting for this, wanting to lay your head on his shoulder and tell him everything youād done to make his world a better place. you thought heād understand. you thought heād see the love in it.
"no," you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. your voice was as soft and sweet as ever, the same voice that told him goodnight every night. "i didn't call the police. thereās no reason to."
chanās face went through a dozen emotions in five seconds. confusion, denial, and then a slow, creeping horror that made his skin turn a sickly shade of grey. he started to back away from you on the floor, his knees hitting a bowl of popcorn and sending it scattering across the rug. he didn't even notice.
"what do you mean thereās no reason to?" his voice was trembling now. "someone bled on you. someone is hurt. or worse. and youāre just sitting here? youāre acting likeā¦ like you just spilled juice."
you tilted your head, a few strands of hair falling over your shoulder. "i was just making sure they wouldn't bother anyone anymore, channie. especially not you."
the room went ice cold. chan stopped moving. he was sitting about three feet away from you now, his back against the edge of your sofa. he looked like he wanted to vomit. his eyes were darting between the blood on your side and the placid, innocent expression on your face.
"jiyoon," he breathed, the name barely making it out of his throat. "the girl from your project. you said she moved away. you said she dropped out."
"she was mean to you," you said simply. you reached out a hand toward him, wanting to comfort him because he looked so distressed, but he flinched so hard he nearly tipped over. you pulled your hand back, a small pang of hurt blooming in your chest. "she said such horrible things about your music. she called you lazy. she didn't deserve to be around you. none of them do."
chanās breath was coming in short, jagged hitches. he was hyperventilating, his chest heaving under his hoodie. "the sasaeng," he choked out, remembering how he'd seen a tweet about her disappearance. "the one from the gym. andā¦ and dae-ho? the guy from the basement?"
"dae-ho was easy," you said, your voice airy. "he was so arrogant. he thought he could talk to you like you were nothing. i just couldn't let that stay the way it was. it wasn't right."
you paused, looking down at your hands. the morality of it all felt so simple to you. it wasn't about being a "bad" person; it was about balance. chan was the best person you knew, and the world was filled with people who tried to dim his light.
you were just the one who handled the shadows.
"and tonight?" chan asked. he sounded like he was choking on his own words. "who was it tonight? was it another staff member? another fan?"
you bit your lip, feeling a little bit shy. "no. just a man at the bus stop. he was being rude to an old lady. and i justā¦ i don't know. i felt like it. i realized i don't really need a reason anymore. the world is better when people like that aren't in it. don't you think?"
chan scrambled back further, his heels digging into the carpet until he hit the wall. he looked at you with pure, unadulterated disgust. it wasn't the look of a boyfriend who was worried; it was the look of a man who had realized he was trapped in a room with a monster.
"youāre insane," he whispered, a tear finally escaping and rolling down his cheek. "youāreā¦ youāve been killing people. youāve been coming home to me, letting me hold you, letting me kiss youā¦ with their blood still on your hands? iāve been thanking you for being so sweet, for being my angelā¦ and all this time, you wereā¦"
he couldn't finish the sentence. he covered his mouth with his hand, a sob breaking through. the sight of him crying, of him being so repulsed by you, finally broke the calm veneer you were holding.
your bottom lip began to tremble. you hadn't expected this. you thought he would see the devotion. you thought he would see that everything you did, you did because you loved him so much you couldn't stand the thought of anything hurting him.
"don't look at me like that," you sobbed, the tears suddenly heavy and hot. you crawled forward on your knees, trying to get closer to him, but he kicked his legs out to keep the distance. "channie, please. i did it for us. i did it so we could be happy! i wanted to protect you!"
"protect me?" he yelled, his voice cracking with a mix of rage and agony. "i didn't ask for this! i don't want people to die for me! iām a good personāi try to be a good personāand youāve turned my whole life into a graveyard! how could you do this? how could you be soā¦ so heartless?"
"i'm not heartless!" you wailed, burying your face in your hands. the lace on your sleeves was getting wet with your tears. "i have so much heart it hurts! i love you more than anything! i love you so much iād do it a thousand times over if it meant you never had to feel sad again!"
you looked up at him, your eyes red and streaming. you looked so small, so fragile, sitting there in your ribbons and your blood-stained knit. it was a terrifying image.
"if you leave me," you said, your voice dropping into a flat, desperate tone that made the hair on chanās neck stand up. "iāll do it. iāll end it all. right now. i have nothing without you, chan. iāve made myself into this for you. if you walk out that door, iām taking my own life. i mean it! is that what you want? my blood on your hands?"
chan froze. the anger in his eyes was instantly replaced by a paralyzing panic. he knew you. he knew how obsessive your love was, how deeply you felt everything. he looked at the kitchen, where the knives were. he looked at the balcony.
he didn't know if you were bluffing, but looking at the intensity in your gaze, he didn't think you were.
"no," he gasped, his hands flying up in a universal sign of surrender. "no, no, baby. don't say that. don't say that."
"then stay," you begged, your voice breaking as you reached for him again. this time, he didn't pull away as fast. he was shaking so hard his teeth were practically chattering. "tell me you love me. tell me you aren't going to leave me. i can't be alone, chan. i'll die. i'll actually die."
chan looked at the door, then back at you. he thought about the members. he thought about his career. he thought about the three peopleāno, fourāwho were dead because of the girl in front of him.
four he knew of. but how many more? did he even want to know?
he should run. he should call the police. he should get as far away from this apartment as possible.
but then he looked at your face. he saw the girl who left sticky notes in his lyric books. he saw the girl who tied ribbons in her hair just because he said he liked them. he saw the girl he had poured all his love into for the past year.
he felt a wave of crushing, sickening guilt. he felt responsible. if he hadn't been so loud about his struggles, would you have felt the need to "fix" things? if he hadn't been so... soft himself, would you have felt the need to be the hard edge?
he stayed on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. he didn't move toward you, but he didn't leave.
"you're fucking sick," he whispered, more to himself than to you. "you're disgusting."
you crawled the rest of the way to him, and this time, when you wrapped your arms around his waist and sobbed into his lap, he didn't push you away. he just sat there, staring blankly at the tv, his hand hovering over your hair but not quite touching it.
he was in too deep. he realized with a sickening thud in his chest that he wasn't going to call the police. he wasn't going to tell anyone. he loved you too much to watch you die, and he loved you too much to watch you go to prison.
you had won. you had tied him to you with a cord made of blood and lace, and he was too weak to break it.
"i've got you," he whispered, his voice dead and hollow. "i've got you, my love. just stop crying. please just stop crying."
you snuggled closer to him, the blood on your shirt rubbing off onto his hoodie, staining him too. you were finally together, really together. no secrets. no threats. just the two of you in your own little world, just the way it was always meant to be.
"i love you so much, channie," you murmured, closing your eyes.
he parted his lips to respond, but no sound came out. he loved you, of course, more than he should. more than what was right, and the truth wouldn't make him magically stop.
but you just drifted off to sleep, feeling more loved than you ever had in your life. you knew chan wouldn't leave. he couldn't. you had made sure of it. you had built a world just for the two of you, and you didn't care how many bodies you had to bury to keep it that way.
outside, the moon was high and bright, casting a silver glow over the city. it was a beautiful night. a quiet night. a night where everything was exactly as it should be.
chan stayed awake for a long time, listening to your steady, peaceful breathing. he looked at the door, then back at you. he thought about his members, his career, his family. he thought about the person he used to be.
and then he reached out, his hand trembling, and gently tucked a stray ribbon back into your hair.
he was in too deep. and in the quiet of the apartment, he finally accepted that he was never coming back up for air.
