will byers stan first human second
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Claire Keane
styofa doing anything
JVL
izzy's playlists!
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noise dept.
Cosmic Funnies
Cosimo Galluzzi
$LAYYYTER
shark vs the universe
Peter Solarz
Product Placement
★
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almost home
tumblr dot com
Keni
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@pettypartypooper
! stray kids fic recommendation ¡
UPDATED LISTS
bang chan [list 1] [list 2]
lee know [list 1] [list 2]
seo changbin [list]*
hwang hyunjin [list]*
han jisung [list]*
lee felix [list]*
kim seungmin [list]*
yang jeongin [list]*
ot8/series [list]*
Kinktober Day 2: Period Sex
[kinktober masterlist.]
🔞 warning: smut below! mdni.
pairing: Lee Felix x reader
•
Felix’s slender fingers trace every inch of your body as he works your flesh in gentle, circular massages. His elbows knead between your shoulder blades, applying just enough pressure to elicit a satisfied sigh from between your parted lips. He works down the length of your spine, paying special attention to the small of your back with the pads of his fingers. And then his hands roll your shoulders in comforting motions, as his lips find their way to the crook of your neck.
“You smell good,” he remarks, earning a half-smile from you, who leans back into his skillful touch. His kisses don’t cease, working down the base of your neck until he’s nibbling at your collarbones now, hitched breaths swirling against your skin as he adjusts himself to be a little closer to you.
“You want to?” Felix then asks, and you smile again, already knowing he was going to ask by the methodical process he follows.
“I can’t,” you reply sheepishly, turning around to face him now. He takes your palms in his, bringing your knuckles up to press a chaste kiss against them.
“Why?” Felix asks against your fingers, continuing to roll them against his lips.
“I’m on my period,” you reply, cocking your head almost apologetically.
“I don’t mind,” Felix practically interrupts to say.
His eyebrows arch up in an almost pleading manner, and you observe the way he adjusts his position on the mattress for the dozenth time now, doing his best to conceal the hard-on beneath his flannel pajama pants.
“You’re not in the mood?” He then inquires, his tender kisses trailing up your wrist.
“It’s not that,” you reply, shifting your position beside him, too. Maybe it’s obvious to him that you are horny- just not enough to soak his freshly-washed sheets in blood.
“It’s- the blood,” you explain to him. “It’s only my second day, so it’s really heavy. It’ll just be messy, and difficult, and probably gross for you.”
Felix chuckles in response, his hands finding your waist now, as he interjects with a tender kiss to your lips now.
“I can still make you feel good,” Felix counters.
He hoists himself off the bed now, over to the little wooden nightstand to the left of you, and then he digs around the drawer briefly, before making his way over again.
You chuckle when you observe the bright pink object grasped between his fingers, already very familiar with the sight of it. A compact vibrator he purchased for you not long ago, usually put to good use when he’s away for long periods of time. He’s used it on you maybe twice since purchasing, both of you generally preferring to use his fingers, or his tongue, and especially his cock to pleasure you. But with the current circumstances, and a rhythmic ache still lingering between your legs, you’ll take what you can get.
Felix maintains an amused smile on his face when he instructs you to undress while he retrieves a towel from the bathroom. You’re a little reluctant to in his presence, never having presented yourself nude to Felix on your period like this. But when he assists in splaying the towel over the mattress, and then gestures for you to lie down, you’re reminded that Felix is- and always has been, nothing less than a gentleman during intimacy.
“Are you comfortable?” He asks, hovering over your figure now and steadying himself up with one hand. You nod beneath him, reaching up to tuck a long strand of blonde hair behind his freckled ear. He responds with a sweet kiss to your pouted lips, and then he glances down between your bodies, as he starts up the vibrator.
The quiet buzz fills the silence of the room, and Felix brushes it lightly against your inner thigh as he leans in to kiss you properly now, his lips working against you eagerly. He does his best not to rut against you as he kisses you, his flannel pajama bottoms grazing your flesh as he lets the friction caress his erection. And then as his kisses trail to your neck, the vibrator trails to your clit. Felix smiles against your skin when he hears you audibly gasp at the sensation, the consistent vibrations sending shivers up your spine as you spread a little further for him. He alternates between holding it against your sensitive bud, and then gliding it back and forth, moving with such ease over the already lubricated area.
“Feel good?” Felix asks, though he can already guess your answer by the little moans you let out.
“So good,” you affirm, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his golden locks. “Will you press it harder?”
Felix does as he’s told, pushing the pink toy a little firmer against you, eliciting a groan from between your drooly lips.
“Harder, baby,” you challenge.
Felix furrows his brows, now, glancing down between you at the toy. It’s coated in a sheen layer of crimson, also present on the tips of his fingers now. The sight isn’t jarring to Felix at all, who knew very well this is what the act would entail. But the toy seems to sound quieter than before, and for a brief moment, he wonders if he’s broken it.
“What is it?” You ask him, bucking your hips away from his hand.
You sit up to glance at the toy too, quickly embarrassed at the sight of your period blood coating the bright pink silicone.
“Oh my god,” you remark in a shaky voice. “I told you it’d be messy. I’ll clean it, could you just get me a towel-”
“It’s not that,” Felix says with a chuckle. He brings the toy up to eye-level, rotating it around in his grasp and frowning slightly. “I think it’s… dying, or something.”
At this, you watch him bring it up to his ear, where he attempts to get a better listen at the vibration. Like he’d predicted, the vibrator sounds much quieter now, hardly emitting any noise, as the vibration is nearly nonexistent in his touch. He flips it off, and then on again, being met with the same weak rhythm. And then he does it twice more, before the toy stops working altogether.
“When was the last time you charged it?” Felix asks, sitting up to glance around the room for the charger.
“I dunno,” you reply, steadying your upper body with two hands as you observe his movements. You groan when he departs from you entirely, making his way to the nightstand, where he now fishes around the drawer for a charger, coming up with nothing,
“Did you take it with you anywhere?” He asks, scratching the back of his head in a confused manner. “I don’t even see the charger here.”
“Forget the charger,” you chime in from the bed, pressing your upper thighs together for some sense or relief. Felix wraps the toy in a tissue, placing it carefully on the nightstand, before shooting you an amused smile.
“You sound a little eager there,” he teases, making his way back toward you. “If only there was something we could do about it.”
You groan at his teasing, throwing your head back in annoyance at the pressing ache between your legs.
“We don’t have any others?” You ask him, though you already know the answer.
“Not unless there are any I don’t know about.”
He watches you squirm helplessly atop the towel, your eyes shutting frustratedly as you can only fantasize about the feeling of when the toy was doing its job properly, sending delicious vibrations along your aching clit and assisting you in reaching your high.
“Too bad there’s no one here to help you,” Felix teases again.
You open your eyes again to the sight of Felix much closer now, his hand palming over the erection beneath his pajama pants. He’s even harder than he was before, and between that, and the cocky smile he wears on his face, you can tell what he’s getting at.
“It’s going to be even messier than the toy,” you explain to him. “I don’t know that you’ll be into it.”
“There’s nothing about a little blood I can’t handle,” Felix counters. He hoists himself on the bed once more, hovering over your body again, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. And then before you can give an answer, he’s pulling back again, preparing to leave the mattress again.
“You’re right,” he says plainly. “Too messy. Oh, well.”
“Wait!” you blurt out instinctively, and he meets your gaze again with a surprised look.
“I mean…” you begin to say, embarrassed at your very clear desperation. “We could… try, maybe.”
Felix leans in again to graze his lips over yours, not yet kissing you, as he tugs his own pants down over his erection.
“Ask for it,” Felix commands.
“Please,” you beg, squirming beneath him when you take notice of the fact that he’s not wearing any boxers under his flannel bottoms. “Please, that stupid toy got me so worked up.”
“I’m sure it did,” Felix replies, his hands caressing the sides of your waist as he positions himself over you. He keeps a steady grip on the base of his cock, angling his tip so that it’s just grazing over your soaking entrance, and then he pauses his actions again before speaking.
“Look at you, all hot and bothered for me,” Felix muses with a smile. He rubs his thumb back and forth along your flesh soothingly, and then he bucks his hips forward as he leans in to kiss you, slipping inside of you with complete ease.
It’s almost unbelievable how well you take him, not having to adjust your position even slightly for him to bottom out inside of you. His tip kisses your cervix almost instantaneously, and you’re letting out a fervent moan at the contact, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in even closer to you.
“Just like that,” you say breathlessly, and Felix bites his tongue from remarking that he hasn’t even begun to move yet.
Yet when he does begin to, pulling back and then thrusting forward with the slightest movement, a heavy groan escapes his lips, his cock twitching once at the sensation. Felix has fucked you dozens of times- but he’s not sure he’s ever felt you so tight- and wet, for him. The entirety of his girth is enwreathed in your warmth as he fucks the crimson deeper into you, completely high off the feeling of you gushing around his length. It’s like he’s fucking you for the first time all over again, and Felix can’t help but quicken his pace when he feels you dig your nails into his bare back.
“Feels so good,” you groan up at him, attempting to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. It’s less of a kiss, and more of you panting breathlessly against his parted lips, as he continues to fuck you at a rhythmic pace now.
“Yeah?” Felix inquires, his tongue swirling around yours as he moves a little faster inside of you. “You like when I make you beg for it? So horny when you’re on your period for me, baby. So fucking wet.”
He groans at his own speech, a string of drool dribbling from his lips onto yours, mirroring the blood that dribbles between your upper thighs and onto him. He couldn’t care less about this mess being a product of your menstruation- in fact, he’s pretty sure it’s ten times more arousing when you’re allowing yourself to be this vulnerable around him.
Felix’s groans transition to an orchestra of high-pitched gasps now, as he fucks you even faster, the sound of his hips smacking eagerly against yours and accompanying the lewd sloshing from between your tangled bodies. He can hardly form a coherent sentence by this point, muttering a string of “fuck” and “baby” as he shuts his eyes in pure bliss. And then his breath hitches in the back of his throat as he feels you clench desperately around him.
“Cum for me,” Felix orders breathlessly. “Make a mess for me, baby, yeah? Fuck, I wanna see you cum for me so bad.”
It hardly sounds like the familiar low pitch of Felix’s voice when he’s whimpering commands like this, but it’s somehow even more arousing to see that he’s so lost in pleasure, he barely even sounds like the Felix you know.
“Cum for me,” Felix says again.
And when you open your eyes to observe the arch of his eyebrows, and his pink parted lips as he continues to thrust into your sopping pussy, you finally do, a gush of blood and arousal coating his cock in a slick mess.
Felix lets out a guttural moan when you do- one you’ve never heard before, as he slows his movements inside of you. And then as he relishes in the sensation of your fluids trickling down onto the bed sheets below him, and his cock practically sloshing in your wetness, Felix reaches his orgasm, letting out a series of whimpers when he empties himself inside of you.
One glance between your bodies is enough to gauge the mess you’ve both made- the towel is damp with spots of sweat, and cum and blood alike. And yet all Felix can do is smile when he finally pulls out again, rolling onto his side and catching his breath for a moment.
“Feel better?” He asks, his fingertips brushing against yours tenderly.
“Much,” is all you can say back, shooting him a satisfied grin as your chest rises and falls.
When Felix sits up again, he tucks a piece of blonde hair behind his ear, furrowing his brows at the desk across the room.
“The charger,” he says simply. “It’s there, by the lamp.”
“Forget the charger,” you interject.
He turns to face you again, his lips pulling into a smile as he watches you shut your eyes once more.
“If a little blood doesn’t bother you, then I prefer this to the vibrator on any day of my period.”
*
lee know on lee mujin service
I know we’re always talk about: oh whoever get chan as a bf won. And that’s so true but whoever gets INNIE ???? I love my baby so so much. He is the most Gen Z coded, sweetest bf on this earth. Innie screams Ice cream date. My baby deserves so much more loving than he is getting.
~🎀
you are SO SO RIGHT!! jeongin to me is just so Boy™, in the best way possible.
like dating him would just be so comfy and sweet. like, lounging on the couch on tiktok sending each other memes. common brainrot, inside meme jokes you yell at each other. going on cute little dates. ice cream and coffee and take-away gimbap and always always always going to photobooths. having cute faceless pics of the two of you or each other as your phone background. making out on the sofa while watching a drama. generally making out everywhere and anywhere, especially when you're tipsy, on the sofa at a houseparty until someone tells you to get a room. cuddles and giggles and naps and dressing all matchy matchy and stealing his sweaters and getting smothered in kisses and cute texts and videos of two cats cuddling saying "us" and and and </3 i want him
thinking about how there isn't enough on virgin!minho
like things get a little handsy and then you learn how sensitive he is... idk i just love subby whiny min but i haven't seen any inexperienced/virgin minho around :/
Made of Glass
pairing: lee minho x reader
warnings: dom afab reader (no pronouns are mentioned, reader does have a hole but i don't think anything else - besides minho referring to the reader as a goddess once), sub virgin minho, lots of build-up, little bit of a handjob, grinding on his bare dick, penetrative sex ( r receiving, haven't written it in a long time so don't get mad if it's shit😻), fluffy build up (they're in love your honour), he says he hates you a lot (but he doesn't mean it cause we love subby tsundere boys)
word count: erm...about 4.6k
-- MINORS BEGONE --
Minho wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was a virgin.
Untouched and "pure", undirtied by the hands of another some might even say. Specifically you, teasing him with light kisses and gentle touches.
And sure, he'd gotten to 2nd base in a high school relationship and older drunken mishaps but never anything more. Never as so far as to...feel certain things from another person.
Or from himself for that matter.
But no, wasn't ashamed that he was a virgin but he was maybe, perhaps, just a little bit embarrassed.
And he had absolutely zero idea how to breach the topic with you much less approach it.
You, who knew he was a virgin. Always so patient and careful with him.
Obviously, it should be expected that in the heat of the moment you stop when he freezes up or slows when he tenses up. But none of his previous partners had ever treated him so nicely, without getting angry or miffed off after at the very least.
They hadn't kissed his cheeks gently with a smile and conceded into a cuddle after it happened several times. They hadn't wrapped him up in their arms and turned on a movie, or delicately asked to talk about it after the fact.
You did though.
With no questions and no pressuring and no guilt-tripping. No anger.
He loved it. He loved you...as long as that had taken for him to come to terms with, with you and with himself.
He loved you.
And he was ready.
To...to, yeah.
And what better way than to just come out and say it? But that's embarrassing.
"I think I wanna...you know."
"Darling, sorry, can you speak up?" You looked up at him, yawning and setting your phone down on the coffee table.
He flushed and turned away, "um..." and he could feel every ounce of confidence in his body drain out of him like that.
Under your eyes, like this, you so attentive to listen to him. So nice, giving him your whole attention like he was the only thing that mattered.
You patted the couch next to you and he had no choice to sit down, falling into your arms like he was the missing piece to your puzzle.
He was quick to nuzzle his face into your throat, hiding against you. You just made him so nervous. Why did you make him so nervous still? After dating for this long, you shouldn't make him feel this way still.
Fluttery and gooey and nervous.
He'd say he hated it. The way you made his heart flutter...as sappy and love-drunk as that sounded.
He'd say he hated it when your hand cupped his cheek, turning him back to you. But he didn't hate it. Not one bit.
"I love you."
A grin split across your face, lighting up in that way you always did when he said those three words. No matter how many times he's said it, it would still drive you crazy like it was the first.
You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Say it again for me darling? Just one more time, please?"
Now you were teasing him. But you couldn't help it. You loved teasing him so much. Loved fluttering kisses over his face and hearing him say those words again and again and again.
You didn't think you could ever get sick of it.
"Fuck you," He groaned but his tone with filled with anything but malice, making you laugh; letting him bury his head into your neck. "Fuck you for being so..."
"So what?" You challenged. "Hmm?"
His voice was muffled against your skin, barely legible, "So...insufferable." But he must like suffering then. "And intolerable." And he must have built up some tolerability, maybe because he was around you so much, indulging in you far too often.
You pulled his body against yours, leaning back to slot his body onto yours.
He was too eager to follow your lead.
To let himself be maneuvered so his hips were pressed against yours and your chest was aligned with his, so softly you moved him, so carefully you treated him.
He could feel your heart beating in time with his, fluttering and quick. He loved the feeling like he loved everything about you.
Fuck you for making him feel like this.
For the butterflies in his stomach. And the flush on his cheeks. And the hard-on between you and him, wishing desperately you wouldn't notice.
But of course you would.
You pulled his face from your neck, hands holding either side of his face, keeping him in place - like he'd want to be anywhere else.
"So I'm insufferable and you're...what?" Your lips pouted and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss them. To kiss you. Hard and fast and the way he needed.
He pretended to think but was only sidetracked by the feeling of your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, tracing his lips and following down to his jawline.
"Mmm, I'm...handsome. And, uh," he let out an embarrassing breathy sigh when you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth so softly he wouldn't be sure it was there if he hadn't watched you.
"And...?" You prompted, smiling coyly. You knew the effect you had on him.
You peppered kisses over his face, following where you'd touched him with your fingers seconds before. You nipped at his cheek and pulled away before he could properly reply.
"...pretty?" Though the words came out more as a question than anything else. "I mean-"
A giggle escaped your lips, "Hell yeah you are," you brush your nose against his, looking at him in a way so scarily intimate he has to look away first.
"Pretty..." you mutter, sighing. "Y'know, I think I can accept being insufferable and intolerable if you can accept being pretty," you whisper, guiding him back to you with a delicate kiss, finally to his lips. "And handsome," you murmur, smiling against him as he deepens the kiss, hands grasping at the fabric of your shirt.
You pull away with a small teasing smirk, "And beautiful, and gorgeous, and stunnin-mmph!"
His hands fist the fabric, pulling you in before you can continue with your stupid rant. Before you can focus on the way his heart pounds when you add on another praise.
You hum and recede into the motion, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth, sloppyily, in the way oddly reminiscent of the way horny teenagers kiss.
In a matter of seconds he's turned the kiss from sweet to something not-so-sweet.
Exactly what he wanted, and maybe he wouldn't even need to suffer through the awkwardness of asking.
Everything he put in was returned by you in the tenfold, one hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, the effects making you laugh against his lips. His form shivering into yours, full-bodied and obvious.
"Sensitive?" You pulled away, with a breath, mouth curling up. "It's okay, it's cute-mmph!"
He crashed his lips against yours again, effectively cutting off your words and your thoughts. Even if you continued to play with the nape of his neck, fingers teasing over the spot. The feeling only made him more and more desperate.
But if he was needy, you were nothing but eager to reply, deepening the kiss like you were trying to consume him whole.
"Darling," you mutter, too soft. "Minnie," you groan, holding him to you gently.
But you were too soft, too gentle.
He wanted more, he wanted you.
Unrestrained, doing what you wanted for once, using him like you wanted. Because he wanted it.
Wanted to not be treated like he was a piece of glass, in danger of breaking every moment. He loved how carefully you treated him but now he wanted to be treated rough, he needed to be treated rough.
But he didn't want to say it.
Slowly, he pressed his hips against yours, shuddering at the fizzle of friction sending sparks through his nerves.
"Minho," you sighed, nails scratching against his scalp making him whine. "Darling," with a particularly harsh nip to his lips, almost hard enough to break the skin - that was what he wanted.
A whimper built up in his throat only to be swallowed down. He wasn't that desperate yet. Even if every one of his movements seemed to argue otherwise, finding a clumsy rhythm in grinding against you, replicating and intensifying those sparks.
Building them up to what he hoped was more.
Even if the motions were clumsy and new. Curious but wanting all the same, the way he moved was raw, exploring and ruining. It made his head spin and everything else go foggy.
You dragged your mouth away from his, tugging his head up by his hair to lick your way down his neck.
A lick and an open-mouthed kiss, making him shudder and shake, heat emanating from the areas you touched and the places you pressed together.
Separated by stupid clothes but not enough to stop him.
He must look pathetic the way he thrusts against you, each discordant grind getting more desperate, more sloppy with the skim of your mouth. With the drag of your tongue down his jaw and pulse-point, heart thrumming beneath your lips. With every shockwave of euphoria that tingles down his spine, with every moan and whisper of his name that leaves your lips.
"Minho," "Minnie," "Baby," "Darling,"
His head is too fuzzy to worry about anything else. To think about the needy noises that leave him, he's sure he sounds lewd, and dirty.
From just dry-humping against you.
But it's not enough. He wants you rough and hard and on top of him. Showing him what to do, telling him what to do. To make him feel good, to make you feel good.
He falters imperceptibly. Should he...?
No, he doesn't want to. He can't. Because how is he supposed to ask you to-
He's caught up in his head but his body works on autopilot, reacting to the sensations that are bringing him closer and closer to cumming in his boxers.
Caught up in his thoughts but not so much so that he forgets about you,
and he certainly doesn't miss anything you say, like the words "Such a fucking good boy," nearly growled into his throat, voice husky and ragged as your teeth scrape down his skin.
Good boy?
He freezes. Heat pools deep inside of him, warm and making him painfully, painfully hard. The words push him nearly to the edge, and he can feel himself on the precipice of-
And then he's being shoved back, hard.
Harder than you meant to, but necessary for what you were about to do.
You pant, as does he, both of you flushed and trying to catch the breath stolen from your lungs.
No, no, not when he was finally getting somewhere, not when finally, finally he was getting what he wanted. Not when you were actually unrestrained and-
"I'm sorry."
His gaze snapped to yours.
"What?"
Your lips were red and parted, he was sure his weren't in much better shape. All he wanted to do was kiss them again, and again, and again.
He wants to hear you call him a good boy again.
"I-I'm sorry," you ran your hand through your hair. "I should've...I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry Minho." This time you were the one looking away.
"The fuck do you mean?" He snaps. It came out a little harsher than intended, he admits. But really, he was sitting here, horny and pent-up and just wanting to get fucked, and here you were, pushing him away and apologizing?
You blink, slowly, surprised.
And here he is, fuming.
Why won't you just fuck him?
"I'm sorry-" would you just stop saying that? His glare shuts you up. "Um," You only looked confused now, a furrow between your brow.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You watch it.
He wishes you'd just make the first move.
Because now he was going to have to say it. Out loud. To you. Not just mumble some nonsense and hope that you'd pick it up.
"I want you." He said simply, inching closer to you.
You nodded but made no move to continue anything. "Okay..." then a sigh. "I'm going to need you to elaborate just a little, Minho."
The flush across his cheeks spreads, down his neck and over his collarbone. Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he was made of glass or something? Like you cared about him so much it made him melt.
Fuck, he loved you.
"Look at me baby." You gently cup his face, turning him to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."
You definitely knew.
He could see it in your eyes, the worry giving way to a teasing look. Now you just wanted to humiliate him huh?
He hated you.
"Shut up."
You smiled, pulling him into your chest again, laying between your legs. Just like you were before. "Well that's not what good boys say, now is it?"
He pulled his face away, burying it into your shoulder to hide from your eyes. "I don't like you." His voice came out muffled into your shirt.
You only scoff out a laugh. "We both know that's not true darling. You love me." Voice dropping to a whisper, you lean into his ear. "Do I make you nervous baby?"
Someone just kill him now.
Put an end to his misery.
"N-no;" his voice still muffled in the fabric of his your shirt. "you're just-"
"Just what?" You challenge, fingers teasing into his hair, the way you know he likes it. "You're a big boy, you can use your words, can't you?"
He shudders and swears he can hear your smirk. "I...- fuck you."
You tug on his hair, making him face you. You swear he has a eye-contact problem. Or maybe he just gets too nervous looking you in the eye.
Either way, he's too adorable not to coo at.
"I was imagining this the either way around, but whatever rocks your boat~" you purr. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."
His hips jolt against yours, heat filling his body. As soon as he does though, your free hand stills his hips, fingertips teasing under the hem of his shirt while you look at him expectantly.
He wants to hide again, but you hold him in place. Pinning him against you, not letting him look away, not letting him move.
He wants you so bad.
"Touch me..." He mutters, and your hand slides just a bit higher on his abdomen, your thighs squeezing just a bit tighter around his hips.
It's over for him. He knows as soon as your lips turn up just a bit more into a coy smile. "Where?"
When he doesn't reply soon enough you skim your hand up and over his ribcage. Breathing growing heavy as your other leaves his hair, trailing down his neck and over his shoulder, slipping just beneath the collar of his shirt.
"Here?"
Such a simple touch makes him feel hot.
"Or here?"
Slowly, your hand under his shirt makes its path towards his chest.
He gasps lightly when your fingers tweak over his nipple, delighting in the way he quivers, rutting against you. You click your tongue at him. "You know, I really can't do anything to you until you tell me what you really want." Lips ghost over his ear, nipping lightly at the shell. "Too bad, really. I could take such good care of a cute little virgin like you~"
His voice cracks under the weight of your touch; trying to clear his throat while biting back a moan. "I'm not cute-"
You cut him off with a kiss, tentatively, like you hadn't stolen his breath with a kiss only minutes ago. Like you're afraid to break him.
But he wants you to break him.
The kiss is too short for his taste but it effectively cuts off his thought process, making him nearly dumb against you. Not dumb enough to not catch the smile against his skin, "I'm not cute." But he sounds so cute. It only makes the smile widen, turning your attention to trail kisses down his neck, murmuring between each press of your lips.
"Yes you are." Kiss.
And for some reason, he can't argue.
"Remember?" Kiss.
"I'm...what was it?" Smile, kiss, lick.
"Intolerable?" A pause, but only for a second, taking the moment to drag your tongue across his throat.
"And you're cute," Stopping to suck on the spot where his pulse thrums, feeling his heart beat under your lips.
"And pretty..." Kissing, once again, over the pretty mark you've left on his pale skin.
"And beautiful...and stunning...and..." you pull away, looking to see his eyes hooded and pupils blown. "...not getting anything more until you can tell me what exactly you want here."
You pinch his nipple one more time before pulling away, leaving him cold, whining, grinding desperately between your legs.
He's hard enough, you wonder if he would've cum in his pants if you hadn't stopped.
"I..." he starts and you wait patiently for him to continue. If you've learned anything about Minho, it's that he's nothing if not embarrassed to voice his wants. Especially the ones like this.
You remember how he blushed and couldn't stop wringing his hands when you worked him up to ask to kiss you for the first time.
The way he couldn't look you in the eye, focusing anywhere else.
But he knows by now, you're nothing if not a tease, willing to play the long game to get him to tell you what he wants.
Fuck you.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
He's so hard though, it hurts. And his skin nearly burns with the need to be touched, to feel you on him again. And all he wants to do is let you have your way with him.
Something that won't happen until he tells you.
"Please," he whines. Though he knows it's not enough. He just wants you. "Please?" On him, touching him, teasing him, kissing him, consuming him. "I need it." pressing a sloppy kiss to your collarbones. "Just fuck me, I want you so, so bad." He pants, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Wanted you so bad, for forever now."
God, you can't wait to fuck him.
A grin blooms across your face, one that he can barely process. "Thought you'd never ask baby."
Not before you're pushing him onto his back, onto the soft cushions of the couch, switching your positions before crawling on top of him.
"M' gonna make you see stars baby." You purr, and he can do nothing else but nod dumbly, looking up at you with wide eyes like you're something of a goddess on top of him.
And you will make him see stars. Not yet anyway.
His vision goes hazy though as your hands quickly move to pull his shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss him again.
Deep and hard, filled with promises and care.
You lace your fingers with his against the couch cushions as you kiss down his jaw and down his neck and his chest and-
He gasps when you lick over his nipple, wrapping your lips around one to suck on it lightly.
Your tongue swirls around it, free hand tweaking at the other, making sure not to ignore it.
His cock is so hard, he can feel it throbbing in his sweats. He's sure he's already leaked through his underwear.
He swears he could cum from this alone.
"Don't!" He gasps and you pull away quickly, concern etched across your brow before you see his face clouded with pleasure, mouth hung open to let out breathy moans. "Please don't." He squeezes your hand in his. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."
You melt, filled with the overwhelming need to make him cum by just playing with his nipples. How cute he'd look from having his tits played with.
"So sensitive, aren't you?" You coo.
Maybe another day though. Right now, you'll give him what he wants. What he's wanted for 'forever'.
"Shut up," he scowls though it's quickly wiped away when you pinch his nipple one more time, making him gasp.
Finally, you glance down at his sweats, tenting with his boner. "Well someone's excited for me." Seeing you stare at his crotch makes him excited. His already hard cock twitching in his pants. "You're so sensitive for me, aren't you, Min?"
He hates you so much, covering his face with the back of his arm. The fact that you're only telling the truth makes him want to hide his face into your chest again.
But you're too far away, and too focused on watching his boner through his pants, fascinated by how hard you've made him with so little.
"Please," he whispers, but the way you watch him, eyes full of hunger makes him throb even more.
Somehow, he gets a kick out of you just watching him, softly moaning at his eagerness, as he lets out a hushed whisper, "Please. Please y/n, don't tease me like this. I'm already horny." His legs spread open shamelessly.
"Awe, why? Can you not handle it?" You look up at him, at his blushing face and his needy eyes. You wanna kiss him so bad.
And so you do, getting close to his lips, your warm breath tickling him. Your hand runs over his clothed cock, teasing your nails gently over the head of his dick. His eyes widen as you begin to touch him over the fabric.
But your lips quickly silence him as you kiss him again. He moans into it, the feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking him lightly and your lips on his.
Your tongue pushes through his lips as you stroke him a few more times, squeezing him lightly in a way that has his back arching off the bed, pushing into your hand even more.
Panting, you pull back a little. "Such a good boy for me, Minnie." Before you're pinning his hips to the couch and looking at him one more time for conformation.
Then you pull his sweats and boxers down in one swift movement.
And then he does see stars as you slide yourself over his hips, grinding against his bare cock.
He thinks he tells you he loves you, that he worships you, that he adores you more than anyone on this planet. He thinks his hand squeezes yours so hard that you bring it to your lips, kissing his hand and telling him to relax. He thinks you grind against him slow and gingerly, watching to see his reactions.
Like he'd ever tell you to stop.
He'd rather die.
Shoot him in the head if he ever tell you to stop, because it sure as hell isn't him.
Again, he thinks. But he isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything really right now.
His head is a mess of sensations and feelings, whines pouring from his mouth until you kiss him again and again and again.
Whispering that he's a good boy.
He's going to cum, he's going to cum.
Stars explode behind his eyes as they roll back and he isn't even inside of you yet.
And then you stop.
And he thinks tears might be rolling down his cheeks. He needs you, he needs you so fucking bad.
"Please, please, please." He pants, trying to roll his hips up against you, failing to find any contact as you sit back on your haunches, just out of his reach. "Need you," he gasps. "Need you so bad!"
You push sweaty hair out of his face, kissing the back of his hand one more time before you pull away entirely. He whimpers and you coo. "Be patient baby, just need to do something."
He watches blearily as you pull off your shorts and tries to calm his racing heart and heavy breaths as you roll a condom over his length.
"One more minute baby," you hush as you kiss him. "Are you ready?"
He nods desperately, of course he is. He's waiting for this for so long. He's wanted you for so long. He's going to go insane if you don't-
He gasps.
You groan as you slide down his length, slowly burying him inside of you until he bottoms out.
If he though grinding was intense, this was like nothing he could've ever imagined. His mouth gapes open, an endless stream of whiney moans and needy whimpers flooding into the room, feeding into you as you lift up and sink onto his again, groans of your own mixing with his.
He can't think anymore - he doesn't want to. He only wants to fall into the feeling of your walls squeezing around his dick, warm and wet as you ride him and the feeling of your hand once again finding his.
Whispering into his ear that you love him so much as you turn his head into mush
"I…I can-" Minho tries his best to talk, to tell you how good he feels. He really does, but whenever the thought comes to mind, it just gets cut off with the liquid heat coursing through his veins.
By the intense feeling of everything that is you.
He's an idiot for not asking you to fuck him sooner.
"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle breathlessly when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?" You bring your interlaced fingers to your lower abdomen, "You feel it?"
All he can do is respond with a loud sob as he nods his head to your question, hips bucking up into you, desperate to chase the high quickly approaching ever since you've touched him.
He's not going to last much longer.
"You fit so well inside me," you murmur.
He's going to cum. Of this, he's sure.
"Please!' He hiccups, but he's not sure what he's pleading for. "P-please!" For more? For less? For something - anything to stave off the inevitable, he doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want it to ever end.
You kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. You flutter kisses over his face, so softly compared to how you're fucking him into the couch so roughly.
"I love you, Minho."
"I love you so much!" He pants and squeezes your hand, his other grabbing onto the nape of your neck as he shoves your lips against his.
He's fucking beautiful, you think. Cute and pretty and beautiful, under you, falling apart.
It's the most gorgeous sight you've ever seen, and he's whining your own name against you lips, pleading between sloppy kisses for you to let him cum, to let him cum for you.
You show your approval with a collision of lips and teeth and tongue as he tips over the edge and you follow suit. He sobs as he cums, shivering violently as waves of pleasure roll over his body, his back lifting into an arch, pushing himself deep into you with a followed whine.
Each moan and whine are muffled by your tongue pushing into his mouth but his hips still grind as he pushes himself into overstimulation, whining until you have mind enough to still his hips.
For a moment, the two of you are silent, chests heaving, both catching your breath as you pull away, looking at him.
"Minho?" His eyes are shut and his cheeks are painted red. "You okay baby?"
He murmurs something you don't catch, but you don't tease as you push the hair out of his face, sweat-soaked and tired, kissing his forehead once.
You make a move to get up off of him but he only wraps his arms around you, holding you in place. "Don't leave," he whispers, looking up at you with tired eyes. "Just stay, please. For a little bit?"
His sleepy eyes make your heart skip a beat. "Who are you and where's my Minho?" You tease softly, but give in nonetheless.
"Fuck you." But his tone is with filled with anything but malice, as he nuzzles into you like a happy cat.
"I just did." You giggle.
"I love you so much." He mutters, kissing your shoulder. "I love you so fucking much."
"And I love you too."
a/n: I did it ^-^, who's proud of me!! also haven't written reader being penetrated in a looooong time, so if it's shit, oh well :p
pls leave feedback, i need motivation to finish my other teaser fics😭
raspberry stains.
word count: 1.6k
pairing: lee minho x afab!reader
warnings: multiple orgasms, foodplay, oral sex, smut - MINORS DNI
synposis: what do you do when you see minho eating raspberries like this. what a whore. (no raspberries were harmed in the making of this fic).
“i got some raspberries from the farmer’s market,” minho’s first words to you are when you shuffle into your living room, still in your pajamas. he shows you the plate of washed berries he had been munching on, way too awake for the hour that it was. you despise minho for being a morning person, for waking up hours before you and doing things like going to the farmer’s market instead of laying in bed with you.
“good morning to you too,” you take a seat next to him on the couch, curling up against his side. at least if he didn’t partake in morning cuddles with you he never denied you couch cuddles.
“have one,” he says, holding out a berry to your lips. his fingers are stained red with the bursted juices and they brush against your lips as he feeds you. you suck his thumb into your mouth along with the berry and his pupils shake as you hollow your cheeks out a bit to get the flavor off of his skin. the sweetness of the raspberry floods your mouth and you move away from him to chew and swallow, the wheels in your head turning as you track his reaction to what you thought was an innocent act.
suddenly, you were wide awake; if he was going to be horny about this so early in the morning, then so were you.
“give me another,” you demand as your hands reach towards his pants, unbuttoning them and opening the zipper with expert motions. he pauses, his eyes heavy lidded as he looks at you with an open-mouthed gaze. your eyes flicker between his rapidly hardening crotch and the plate of raspberries as you wait for your words to register in his head through the horny daze. “do you need me to repeat myself?”
he shakes his head, his eyes clearing a bit as he scrambles to pick up a berry to feed to you. you let it rest on your tongue as you slide to your knees in front of him and free his cock from his boxers, pressing down on the fruit gently so it bursts in your mouth. you take the head of his cock into your mouth and you let the juice dribble out of your mouth until it drips down his length, staining him even redder than he already was. you pull away, wincing at the feeling of liquid dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but the look on his face is worth the discomfort. he looks gone, his eyes heavy on you, the weight of his awe of you hanging off of his every feature.
“this gone and we barely did any foreplay,” you tease, sliding your hand up his cock to spread the redness around. “you must really like me.”
“if you don’t keep going i might die,” he says, ignoring your bait, completely serious. you flash him a grin before going down on him again, a sick satisfaction seeping through you when his cock jumps in your mouth. you take him as far as you can go, using your hand to make up for the rest of the space and you bob up and down, letting your saliva mingle with the berry until he’s wet and slippery.
the flavor is divine; you always love his taste, musky and salty with the scent of his clean body wash intertwined, but the raspberry mixing with him is a cocktail that you never want to stop drinking. he slides his fingers into your hair to keep you close to him, and you give him a particularly dirty lick to his slit when you realize that it’s his clean hand - as sexy as this all is, you didn’t want to deal with cleaning the stickiness out of your hair later.
he lets out breathy moans and pants in time with your movements and you want to edge him all day just so you can keep hearing the music he’s playing for you, but when you peek up at him you feel a tinge of sympathy for him. his neck is completely flushed and it trails up to his ears, the veins in his neck popping out from the effort it takes to hold back from thrusting up into your mouth. you pet his thigh with your free hand, a silent good boy that doesn’t go unnoticed by the way he throws his head back with a groan. you take pity on him, relaxing your throat so you could take him down and swallow around him. you stay there for as long as your body allows, only backing off when the need to breath flashes warning signals through your head.
his moans turn into whines as you keep stroking him, a clear signal that he’s close. you open your mouth, lolling your tongue out to catch his release onto it. the picture that you make in front of him, lips stained red and mouth open for him, is enough to send him over the edge and his muscles lock as he comes with a spasm. you work him through it until his hand tightens in your hair, the tiny pinpricks of pain sending a wave of arousal through you. you swallow his release and show him your empty mouth, and his answer to that comes in the shape of a dry sob as he melts completely into the couch.
you don’t realize how wet you’ve gotten since starting this until you let him go, your attention divided between his post-orgasmic glow and the burn of pleasure you feel when you rub your thighs close together. you rest your head on his thigh as you catch your breath alongside him, and you slide your hand into your pants, content to lazily rub yourself off before sharing a shower with him to wash the berry juice away.
“what are you doing?” he asks, his voice deep and gritty.
“you’re not the only one who gets to come today,” you sigh against his thigh as you circle your clit with your fingers, the wetness there making the glide easy.
“no, i mean what are you doing?” he repeats, the emphasis not making things any clearer for you. he rolls his eyes when you don’t get it before sitting up and joining you on the floor. he lifts you off your knees and pushes you towards the couch to sit so your positions are reversed with him on his knees in front of you. “this is my job, not yours.”
he pops a couple berries into his own mouth, swirling them around his tongue as he slides your pants and underwear down to your ankles. he helps you take them off gently, tossing them aside before pushing your thighs apart. he dives into your pussy like a starved man, pushing the red juice into your folds and lapping it up again before repeating the process again and again. it’s so much better than your own fingers, the unpredictability of where his tongue was going next keeping you unprepared for the onslaught of sensations. you come embarrassingly fast, your thighs locking around his head as he slurps at you, obscene sounds filling the empty living room.
he moves away when you start to twitch in oversensitivity and his mouth is completely stained red. it’s smeared around his lips like lipstick, and you pull him up for a kiss with urgency. the taste of raspberries mixed with both of you is euphoric, and you let out a content sigh into his mouth as your body relaxes.
“i’m not done with you yet,” he releases your lips with a wet pop, a string of pink saliva connecting the two of you. he’s back down between your legs faster than you can register, his mouth finding your clit instantly. his tongue traces patterns against it, circles and swirls and shapes that you can’t name and it’s too much but it feels so good that any protests die on your tongue.
“minho!” you cry out, and once his name leaves your lips you can’t stop, the five letters taking the shape of moans and whines until it’s all you can say or think. your thighs begin shaking but he doesn’t stop, eating you out steadfastly as if he was born to do it.
“one more,” he says against your folds, his fingers joining the mess between your legs to hook into you, curling upwards. “you can give me one more, right?”
i’ll give you anything you want, you try to say, but it comes out in a series of unintelligible sounds. the burn of your orgasm comes slower this time, a fire building and exponentiating unlike the sparks of fireworks that you experienced the last time. it burns and glows brighter and brighter until it’s a white light behind your eyelids, your entire vision whiting out as you come against his lips. you can’t see it, but you can feel the smile he wears against your skin as you come down from it.
when you blink your vision returns, just as he is climbing up to sit next to you. he pulls you into his lap, holding you close as your sluggish head tries to make sense of what just happened. you bask in the silence, your head pressed against his heartbeat, his breathing moving your body up and down against him calmly.
“you know,” he breaks the quiet, his words a whisper into your hair. “we’re never going to be able to look at raspberries the same way again.”
“shut up.”
“Oh, let there be hotel complaints” | Chan x you
warnings: nsfw, D/s dynamics, face and pussy slapping, overstimulation, mention of safewords, Daddy kink.
This is just Chan brain rot and my mind gently suggested me the image of first time inexperienced Dom Chan who wants to try some BDSM but he’s too scared to hurt you so he decides he’a going to try on himself all that he’s gonna do to you…
Title from Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier
Chan has had plenty of vanilla sex, but then you introduced him to BDSM, and especially the concepts of Doms and Subs, and something switched in him. He started reading online forums and blogs. And when the topic arose again, he clearly told you he’s interested, but he won’t do it yet. Because the thing is: despite how hard even just reading stuff about it makes him, he has no experience, and he won’t risk hurting you.
So, he does what any good Dom should do in his eyes, he tries things on himself.
One day you turn home to find his face red and a bit swollen, but when you ask about it, he just distracts you with filthy kisses. What you don’t know is that he slapped and slapped and slapped himself until he deemed he had found the right strength to use.
Another day he disappears for the whole afternoon and, when you see him in the living room, he looks flushed and a little exhausted, but giddy. Just like Changbin when he maxes out at the gym and he’s incredibly tired but proud of himself. What you don’t know is that he spent the afternoon edging himself with a vibrator on his shaft and his tip and, after hours of denying himself, he came and proceeded to overstimulate himself, because it’s only logical to pair up the two experiences, right?
What you noticed though, is that there’s a change in him. He’s more assertive with you on some days, makes sure you eat and doesn’t let you go to sleep if you haven’t removed your makeup. Pushes you to sleep more when he knows you have had a bad day at work, and every time you comply and thank him for taking care of you, he kisses a little filthier, holds you a little firmer.
It’s months later when he asks if you can try something kinkier. You’re excited and happy and you start to mentally prepare yourself to be a good teacher without forgetting this is about pleasure. But then Chan shows you exactly how deep the still water runs deep.
“You’re gonna sit there” he says and he’s so commanding yet sexy you melt instantly. “And we’re gonna have a quick talk. Nothing too extreme is going to happen today, but I need to establish some rules”. You nod in response, and he looks at you with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna use your pretty words, baby girl.” That’s it. Not a suggestion, not an option, a rule. Fuck, you knew he would be good at this.
“I understand.”
He’s quick with the rules: you must verbally answer, you’re gonna use the traffic light system for now, you must use the safe word if you need to, and the moment you think something’s wrong he’s gonna stop. You also must ask for what you want, not just take it.
Not too long later you’re on the bed, shirt previously discarded and clad only in your panties. And Chan is completely dressed, hovering over you. He’s been kissing you deeply and touching you just enough to make you want so much more. You’re embarrassingly wet and you’re sure you’ll have to throw away your panties. He’s holding your crossed arms at the wrists and, in doing so, he’s holding you down. You try to buck and raise your ass to relieve some of the dull aching you’re feeling in your core. “C’mon Channie, touch me.”
“But I am touching you…” he replies with a smirk on his lips. His free hand caresses your face, and he tests the gives of your lower lip with his thumb. When you suck on it, though, he takes it away and shakes his head. “What did I say?” You are lost, what happened? Did he say something?
“You’re just a cockhungry whore, uh? You can’t even wait for me to give you something, you’re so greedy you just want to take and take.”
Oh.
The realization in your face makes Chan smile. “There it is… tell me what you did wrong, and I might consider going easy on you.”
“I didn’t ask to suck your thumb-” he knows there’s something you want to add, he knows about your Daddy kink. And it turns him so fucking on, but he’s not gonna press about it. He considers your words and considers just letting it slide, but there’s flames licking at his insides.
“Too bad you didn’t ask, uh?”
Sudden, sharp pain irradiates on your left cheek and it’s less the pain and more the surprise that makes you gasp and, less than a second later, moan. Chan wants to apologize, years of conditioning making him feel guilty and mean and abusive, but he can’t deny what he feels.
He grabs your face, fingers splayed where he slapped mere seconds ago, wet thumb digging into the opposite cheek and kisses you messy and filthy, sucking your tongue in his mouth. Chan removes the last piece of clothing you have on and sits on his knees, with his thighs slightly spread apart. He holds your legs open with firm hands, one on your calf and the other clamped around your knee. He’s just… staring at your pussy. You try to squirm away and close your legs, but his eyes are suddenly on you. There’s a warning in his face that accompanies a displeased sound. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry” you blurt out trying to repair something before you do too much damage. You can feel wetness dripping down your folds, and Chan can too. “You’re so wet. Fuck, you love being on display for me…” He has never felt this. There’s a power rush, a shiver starting from his spine and moving towards opposite endings: towards his brain, making him lose words and making him want to act up, want to deliciously destroy you, making a mess of you and then put you back together; and on the other ending, traveling south towards his cock and balls. He’s been ready to cum the moment he sat you down and you agreed to do this.
“Love, are you just going to stare at me?” You ask when you grow too impatient to keep sitting still, a bit embarrassed too by his too focused staring. He shakes his head, and there is a quiet chuckle that can be heard in the room. His lips raise in a slow smirk, like he’s just been made aware of a secret, and you didn’t. And maybe he did.
Chan made plans for tonight. Plural. You told him you like not knowing everything in advance, so he planned different plans based on your responses to his actions. It was harder than organizing recording sessions. But since he saw your reactions earlier, he decides to stick to a precise plan. So, he acts in it.
Quickly and hard he delivers a slap on your inner thigh, the pain is a delicious sensation, hot and cold at the same time. A moment later the skin reddens to show Chan’s handprint and if possible, his cock gets ever harder. It twitches a little from where it’s hidden, head flushed and red, slowly but constantly leaking precum, forming a wet stain on his slacks .
“Fuck Chan!” You cry to his direction, eyes closed shut and brows knit in pleasure. You can feel heat where he hit you, and you want to press your fingers into it, wanting to feel the warmth and the pain and the pleasure. The moment you are ready to ask him for something, he delivers another slap in the same place. This time, though, Chan doesn’t let you breathe it out, doesn’t let you take your time to recover from it, no. He rakes his nails on your hot skin, watches as the skin quickly goes from red to white and to an even redder red where he scratched you. Digs his digits into your skin and revels in your gasps, feeling hot and ready to lose control, if a wind would blow in the room, he would cum in an instant. He’s ready for your next moan, your next gasp, but you’re quiet and your legs are trembling, and he’s scared he’s gone too far. He’s on the verge of apologizing, carrying you to the bathroom for a warm bath and cuddles and more apologies when he realizes he read you wrong. He didn’t give you too much, he gave you exactly what you needed, because -unbelievably so, for him- you’re coming. Clit untouched and your sopping hole twitching and throbbing around nothing, but you’re clearly coming. This is a different one, though. You’ve never been quiet while having an orgasm, but watching you with more attention calms him down, you look fine. He kisses you from your thigh to your cheekbone, stopping to nibble at your nipples, tongue lapping at your skin and sucking quick marks on you. “My pretty slut” a kiss on the nose, “you’re so greedy” a kiss on the right cheek, “your little pussy came untouched” a kiss on the forehead, “now I must give it some attention” a kiss on your chin. “Tell me your color?” He adds, tone sweeter and a hand caressing your face like you’re made of the finest glass.
“Green”. A smile appears on his face and he manhandles you to straddle his slacks covered thigh. Your wetness is seeping through the fabric, you squirm and he can see you’re embarrassed. “I told you I was gonna give it some attention. I want my baby girl to feel good.” He grabs you by your hips and forces you to move and grind your pussy on the fabric of his slacks. One of his hands sneaks into your hair and he pulls, stopping you from hiding into his neck. “No hiding. And stop hiding all your pretty sounds from me.”
The pleasure mixed with the overstimulation are overwhelming, and Chan’s new role is playing a big role in the moment and your arousal. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises in your skin, and you can’t wait to stand in front of a mirror to see them. Chan hands guide you back and forth and soon you’re clenching around nothing, “m’close Channie”, too desperate to control your movements.
“It’s okay, my baby. Just ask for it.” His hard cock is begging to be touched, still in the confines of his underwear and trousers. Yet, he has never been this hard and close to coming untouched. Your moans, the redness on your cheeks, the sweat matting your hair to your forehead and your incessant moans and cries of pleasure are making him lose his mind.
“Please Channie, can I cum?” You pant. “Let me cum, Daddy.” The last word is whispered, muffled into his shoulder but he hears it anyway. And he understands why you like it, the name giving him power, giving him a specific role, giving him the chance to give you exactly what you need.
“Then cum for Daddy.”
He watches you as cum, hands guiding your movements and his muscles flexing to give you as much pleasure as he can. He loves you like this, unabashed and free, vulnerable just for him.
But having you moaning and screaming his name is not enough. He doesn’t stop when you try to take a moment to collect yourself, he fixes his hold on your hips and forces your movements again. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again and it doesn’t matter how loud you whine, it doesn't matter your overstimulation, what matters now is making you cum another time. Anytime he pushes you towards him, he also pushes you down, setting an unforgiving pace that is torture on your sensitive clit. He’s relentless, but after just a few minutes you’re both rewarded with your legs clamping down on his thigh as you cum again. Unbelievably so, watching your second orgasm triggers his own orgasm and he moans your name loudly. He kisses you, messy and hungry, lips demanding and tongue insistent, claiming even your breath.
You’re gripping his shirt so hard, your fingers hurt. He delicately lays you down onto the bed and kisses you softly. As soon as his breathing comes back to normal, his worries come back too.
“Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you? Was it too much? What do yo-“ you interrupt him with silly, quick kisses, trying to diminish his worries.
“I am more than okay.” A kiss. “I feel perfect.” A kiss. “You were perfect.” A kiss. “You’re always perfect, love.” A kiss. “I love you.” A kiss.
You kiss some more and he insists on showering together so he can take care of you and make sure you drink water and eat some fruit and chocolate. He tells you all about trying on himself what he did to you, and you’ve never loved him more.
🥟: thank you very very much for making an ordinary day, march 20th, so special [translation. jisquokka]
HAN ★ SUPER BOWL + SOCIAL PATH + 특 ASIA STAR ENTERTAINER AWARDS ⋆ 240410
Bang Chan 🩵 ETERNITY
© gor_cb | 240329
It would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me ♡ Chan
♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader
♡ Genre: Single dad!Chan, friends to strangers to lovers
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), mentions of parental guilt, themes of loneliness, Chan is stuck in the past, lying, mentions of feeling lost in life, story spans over a number of years, nipple play, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie
♡ Word count: 8.2k
♡ Synopsis: Being a single dad to Hyerin is all Chan has known for the past four years. He and his ex-girlfriend reached an agreement that saw her going off to live a life she had always dreamed of while he was left with a life of loneliness, which he endured with a smile on his face for his daughter. A small gleam of hope seems to appear in his life in the shape of you. But hiding himself under a haze of lies seems to be his only option if he ever wants to keep you.
♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting, this was so much fun to write 🩷 I will admit this is a lot more focused on Chan as a character than I originally wanted it to be, and I kinda went a bit crazy with the plot, but I hope you still like it! The song Chan sings to Hyerin is Little Star by Standing Egg 💗
Every day in Chan’s life is a monotonous, never-ending cycle. Like watching reruns of bad TV shows on gloomy Sunday nights, every second of his past and upcoming days is etched into his mind like a quilt of mundane tasks and repetitive moments.
But that wasn’t always the case.
Once, excitement filled his every waking moment. His weekends were a whirlwind of new places teeming with bustling crowds and unfamiliar faces who became fast friends. During his university years, he and his friends lived their lives with ardor, savoring every moment as if it could be their last. His days were filled with an array of unplanned parties and impromptu trips which brought a kaleidoscope of color to his life.
Until he met Dana.
He was about to graduate, and she swept into his life like a hurricane — flipping everything upside down before disappearing just as quickly, with only destruction and ashes remaining in her wake.
He was infatuated; she was bored. That was clear from the start, but Chan was too blinded by affection to be concerned with such a minute detail. So long as he got to have her by his side, he was happy. Their relationship lasted a year, yet it changed his life forever.
He was twenty-one when Dana announced her pregnancy. On his twenty-second birthday, she told him she didn’t want to be a mother.
By that point in his life, Chan had already forsaken everything he had for her. He turned his back on his old friends, the vibrant life he once led, and everything that once made him who he was. Without Dana, he would be left with nothing but the ugly reflection of his self-destructive choices made in the name of a loveless love.
And so, they came to an agreement. Dana would leave — that had been her plan from the start, anyway — but she would leave Chan with a small piece of their story.
Hyerin was born on November 20th, 2019.
Dana left on a plane to New York City on December 1st.
Now, the only speck of color in his life is Hyerin. In the four years Chan has been lucky enough to be her dad, he has found she is much more than simply a reminder of Dana or what could have been between them. Hyerin is his entire world. She is the love he’s unknowingly been searching for his whole life, and he would sacrifice every last bit of himself to make sure she only ever knows happiness.
They live a quiet life, with Chan working a less-than-fulfilling corporate job and spending all his free time with her. He sometimes allows himself to wonder what happened to his old friends — did they all eventually settle for the mundanity of adult life, or are they still chasing an endless thrill? But he never dwells on it too much. The sweet memories of his early twenties are now nothing more than a comforting escape when the weight of loneliness becomes too overwhelming.
Today is one of those days. A late Friday night after his shift, Chan sprawled on his couch with Jisung, a co-worker who became his first friend after many years, a silly smile on his face as he reminisced about a trip to Jeju in his sophomore year of college. This is how he lives most of his life; when he’s not in the present with Hyerin, he’s stuck in the past.
How could he not be stuck in the past? So many people he loved and memories he cherished were there.
“I don’t get how you just left all of that behind for someone,” Jisung scoffs, loosening his tie. “Why couldn’t she just join your group of friends?”
“It’s complicated,” Chan sighs, eyes wandering toward Hyerin’s bedroom door for the umpteenth time to make sure she’s still sleeping soundly. When he turns to look back at Jisung, his expression prompts him to elaborate. “What? You want the whole story?”
Jisung shrugs. “It’s not like we have any other plans for tonight.”
“Well, there was this girl in my friend group. We hooked up a lot, but our relationship went beyond that,” Chan explains, fingers tapping his thighs as the memories flood his mind. It was a sore topic, one he certainly didn’t enjoy remembering. “We never dated, but Dana was jealous, and I couldn’t blame her. Me and this girl were… very close. I couldn’t be in a relationship while also being that close to her, but I also couldn’t imagine us being only friends. So it was easier to walk away.”
Chan conveniently leaves out the fact that he walked away because an artificial love strangely provided solace for his heart, unlike the searing torment of unrequited love, which engulfed him like molten lava.
“And that was the last time you ever had that type of relationship with anyone?”
“With Dana? Yeah—”
“Hyung, you know what I mean. You told me yourself Dana didn’t love you,” Jisung points out. “I mean this other girl.”
Chan shrugs dismissively. “I guess, yeah. Doesn’t matter, though.”
And Jisung scoffs loudly at his words, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Memories of that love flood Chan’s mind, and he's ready to let them sweep him away when Jisung abruptly turns so he sits facing him, resolve swimming in his eyes.
“Give me your phone,” his loud voice reverberates through the small apartment, prompting Chan to shush him with a stern look. “Give me your phone,” Jisung repeats himself with a harsh whisper.
Chan rolls his eyes but ultimately smiles at his friend. He retrieves his phone from the end table, handing it to a much too enthusiastic Jisung. “The password is Hyerin’s birthday,” he tells him, albeit a bit apprehensive.
He watches amusedly as Jisung types away at his own phone before doing the same on his, handing him the device with a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“What did you do, you little menace?” Chan questions the younger boy, narrowing his eyes. Jisung simply shrugs.
“I got you a date tomorrow. Thank me later.”
Chan immediately sits up on the couch, eyes darting toward his phone screen. A chat with a single message from him to an unknown contact makes him question his entire friendship with Jisung.
Me: I’m your date for tomorrow 😉
Me: O’neul restaurant, 6 pm. See you there, cutie
“Jisung, what the fuck?”
“What?” His friend asks between giggles. “Sora has this friend she said desperately needs a date, and I have you in the same situation,” he explains, clearly proud of himself. “I just did you both a favor while also getting boyfriend points.”
Chan’s eyes shift toward his phone once more, inwardly cringing at the messages with a heavy sigh.
“And was making me sound this creepy necessary?”
Jisung waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, that was just a little treat for me.”
“And why the fuck is her name Mystery Girl?” Chan queries, the irritation making him unknowingly raise his voice.
“It’s a blind date,” his friend explains. “This girl’s apparently super picky, kept turning down every guy Sora suggested. So, she came up with this solution. Can’t turn you down if she doesn’t know what you look like.”
Chan groans, ultimately sinking back onto the couch with a defeated sigh. Jisung was trying to be a good friend, he knew that, but he wasn’t at all thrilled with the prospect of a date. Not only did he not want one, but he also had no time for such a futile thing. He had Hyerin, and she was the sole reason for his existence. He didn’t need anyone meddling in their little world. But he didn’t have the courage to tell Jisung that.
It would be a lie to say the past four years weren’t lonesome. Falling asleep alone in a cold, empty bed was a sorrow he had simply grown numb to. Yet, he still yearned to have someone to share the grapples of routine life with, someone whose presence alone would effortlessly diminish his worries, someone he could make love to before falling asleep and waking up intertwined.
But he couldn’t afford to have that.
At least this date was bound to fail; the woman’s demanding nature, coupled with Chan’s unwillingness to even be there in the first place sure to make their wasted time brief.
Just as he’s about to grumble about the messages again, Hyerin comes stumbling out of her room, her small feet shuffling against the floor as she rubs her sleepy eyes.
“Oh, honey, were we being too loud?” Chan asks sweetly, and his eyes discreetly shoot daggers at Jisung, who mouths an apology.
Hyerin firmly shakes her head, the crooked pigtails Chan clumsily had tied this morning coming undone as she does so. He smiles at her, propping his elbows on his knees and waiting for her to speak her little mind.
“I had a dream,” she mumbles. “With a dragon.”
Chan gasps, hands wrapping around her tiny frame and picking her up before walking toward her room. It took him some time, but he ultimately learned that it’s best to ease her back into bed while she’s distracted, lest she throws a tantrum.
“And was it a nice dragon?” He asks. Hyerin giggles, and Chan is positive that the sound has the power to light up even his most somber days.
“Of course it was a nice dragon, daddy,” she tells him. “You said I only have nice dreams ‘cause my mind is pretty, remember?”
Chan nods as he gently tucks her back into bed, triple-checking that she is comfortable and warm. “Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He slaps a hand on his forehead with a sigh. “Hyerinnie has the prettiest mind. It can only make up pretty things.”
Hyerin smiles at him, tugging her blanket close to her chin, her doe eyes already heavy with sleep and blinking languidly. Chan asks her the same question he does every night, although the answer remains unchanging every time: would she like him to sing to her? She drowsily tells him she wants to hear him sing her favorite song, Little Star.
Chan promptly gets under the covers beside her — Hyerin pouting and whining about how he’s stealing her blanket for himself, to which he can’t help the hearty laugh that escapes his lips. Since turning four, she’s developed quite a strong personality that Chan soon finds he adores, much like everything about her.
He turns on his side to watch her features as he sings; her nose and mouth so similar to his, and the way she furrows her brows while falling asleep mirrors his own habits. Chan might not be a happy man in his job or his personal life, but the boundless happiness his little gift provides him surpasses anything else he could wish for. Every now and then, he finds himself wanting more, but it’s not long before he realizes he already has everything he needs.
Chan goes over his rather extensive list of how to care for Hyerin with Jisung for the tenth time that evening, making sure the younger man knows what to do in any situation that could arise in the couple hours he’ll be gone. Hyerin is the one to usher him out of the apartment, assuring him she’ll be fine with her uncle Han, and Chan has to stop himself from wallowing over the fact that his once tiny baby is rapidly blossoming into a young kid.
He made no real effort to dress for his date; a simple button-up shirt and jeans served him just fine, seeing as he plans to return home as soon as possible. His date and he haven’t talked much at all since his initial texts yesterday, texting each other only to confirm the time and place of their basically forced date.
He arrives fifteen minutes late, all but running from the bus stop to the restaurant while cursing Jisung under his breath. This was definitely not worth the hassle, and Chan wanted nothing more than to be back at home with his daughter. He’d pick watching Tangled with her for the hundredth time over an unwanted date in a heartbeat.
Chan finally walks into the restaurant, informing the waiter that he’s there to meet Cherry. His face visibly grimaces as he mutters the words. Fuck this blind date bullshit.
He’s led to his table, dragging his feet behind the waiter. His attention is immediately drawn to the pencil holding his date’s messy ponytail together. He chuckles quietly, circling around the table and forcing out a smile to introduce himself.
But then he’s met with a sight he had long given up hope of ever seeing again: you.
You, who were next to him as he made stupid decisions during college. Like when he drunkenly thought it wise to bet his laptop in a game of beer pong.
You, who always made him your special hangover soup after a party. He especially loved it when you let him keep the leftovers, knowing that he and his roommate were hopeless in the kitchen.
You, who filled the space in his cold sheets with warmth and always made his bed feel like a sanctuary.
You, who let him make love to you despite you both swearing to be only friends.
You, who later had to watch him walk away from you like a coward, driven by sheer fear.
You, staring back at him with a stunned look on your face.
“Chan?” You ask, an unsure lilt to your words.
And Chan embarrassingly fumbles over his words, his tongue tying itself into knots in front of you. He notices you pursing your lips to stop from giggling and clears his throat a bit too loudly, a few patrons turning their heads to look at him. But he can’t bring himself to care, not when it seems the universe has turned the wheels of his fate in his favor for once.
“Uh, hi,” is all his brain can muster among the jumble of thoughts inside his head. He mentally berates himself for acting so damn awkward when you’re clearly not as affected by this encounter as he is.
“Damn, it’s been so long,” you marvel, eyes not leaving his face for a second. “I thought you moved to a different country or something. It’s so strange how we never ran into each other.”
Chan forces out a chuckle, hands now fiddling with the menu on the table. Of course you two never ran into each other; he only ever leaves the house for work or when he has to accompany Hyerin, and he doubts you frequent playgrounds or zoos.
“Yeah, I… don’t go out much anymore,” he simply says.
You hum, and he properly takes in your appearance. You haven’t changed one bit; from your hair to your choice of clothes, you’re still the same girl who ruled over his every thought during college.
You two order your food and fall into an infuriating cycle of small talk. Chan doesn’t want to talk about the weather or if you have seen the latest movie yet — he’s desperate to ask you how you’ve been, if you ever pursued your dreams, if you can still outdrink anyone in your friend group, and—
And if you’re still single because you find relationships a hassle.
But as the food arrives, you fall into an even more frustrating cycle: silence. Chan feels restless, squirming in his seat every few minutes while you calmly eat and watch the people around you. He remembers your habit of scanning crowded rooms and making up stories for strangers with your vivid imagination. He wants to ask if you still do that, but it seems he’s only grown into more of a coward since your last encounter.
You’re the first to break the silence, waiting for the waiter to leave with your plates to ask what Chan has been doing since graduating. It’s a casual question with no weight to your words, as lighthearted as you have always been. And the complete opposite of his every possible answer.
How can he tell you he’s given up music altogether, now surrounded by gray walls and lifeless faces in his corporate job? How can he tell you he’s alone most of the time, partly by choice and partly because he doesn’t know how to dig himself out of this comfortable hole he’s trapped himself in?
How can he possibly explain that he agreed to be a single father, sacrificing his own happiness for the selfish whims of a woman who never even loved him?
You’re still the same; the same carefree eyes and attitude, same easygoing approach to everything life throws your way — such as meeting him again after years.
All of him has changed.
Chan can’t tarnish your colorful life, can’t sit before you and spill out his problems or grumble about the overwhelming loneliness in his life when he knows damn well that was a consequence of his own choices.
He wants nothing more than to be the same Chan he was in college. Creating life stories for strangers in dive bars with you, not caring about whether he’ll have enough money to pay the water bill next month, not having to bear the burden of something as precious as a human life depending solely on him.
It’s selfish, but he wants nothing more than to go back.
So he does.
“I actually still write songs, though it’s only a freelance thing,” he lies. He hasn’t written a single note in years. “Other than that, I’ve just been taking it day by day. Same as I’ve always done, I guess.”
And your eyes immediately light up — you’ve always loved his songs, after all. Your conversation flows much like it used to in the past after that, with you making witty jokes and Chan laughing loudly at them. You tell him you started working as an art teacher for the elderly when living off of commissions became impossible, and that you adore the stories they share about their younger years. They remind you of your own stories together, you admit with a genuine smile.
Your conversation is endless, continuing even as Chan walks you to your car in the empty parking lot. The night has grown colder, and the crescent moon gleaming in the sky above him almost feels like a sign that things will change for the better.
As you two stand in front of your car, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Ever the free soul, you ask him outright if he would like to come back to your place. There are no further implications hidden in your request beyond a hookup. Nothing’s ever heavy with you, every little thing always feeling light as a feather.
He says he would love to, but quickly excuses himself under the guise of calling his roommate about the spare key. Chan hurriedly calls Jisung as soon as he turns a corner in the parking lot, ensuring you won’t be able to hear him. It’s juvenile, the way he’s actually taking pleasure in almost creating a different version of himself — a version much closer to who he was when you were his, at least in some sense of the word. He’s a father, he should be responsible and dependable, but the weight of that role had been thrust upon him far too abruptly. He can’t be faulted for wanting to go back in time.
“Okay, I have no time to explain,” he blurts out as soon as Jisung picks up the phone. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay the night?”
Jisung chuckles at the other end of the line. “Damn, was the date that good?”
Chan ignores his sly comment, because yes, the date was everything he never thought it could be.
“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” he assures him. “I’ll even pay you if you want. How much—”
“Hey, no need for that,” Jisung cuts him off. “You know I love looking after Hyerin.”
And the pang of guilt inside his chest at the mention of his daughter’s name almost knocks the air out of his lungs. He feels ashamed, as if he’s neglecting his daughter for a hookup, going after a fantasy that has long crumbled and faded away.
“How is she? Is she okay?” He asks, guilt washing over him like a wave. He hadn’t thought of his daughter for a second that entire night. “Did she cry at all? Did she notice I was gone for longer than I promised?”
Jisung calls out his name with a chuckle, prompting him to stop his rambling. “Relax. We painted each other’s nails, she did my makeup, had her dinner, and is now sleeping soundly after listening to another one of uncle Han’s phenomenal stories about frogs,” He details, causing a hearty laugh to fall from Chan’s lips at the image of Jisung’s face painted with Hyerin’s cheap children’s makeup. His friend then adds, “Go get laid, man.”
And so Chan hangs up the phone, all but running toward your figure waiting by your car. You smile at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a tight embrace. It’s the first time he holds you in almost five years, and he feels his dull world away from Hyerin slowly fill up with vibrant hues.
It takes you less than fifteen minutes to reach your apartment building, and Chan is thanking any higher power that might listen for that. The sheer anticipation of what is implied to happen once you two are alone together has him picking at his cuticles until it stings.
He’s nervous, to put it lightly. A couple of terrible drunken hookups in dingy motels after office gatherings were his only sexual encounters after Hyerin was born.
But once you’re standing in front of him in your living room, your eyes never leaving his even as you’re slipping off your heels, Chan knows you’re both equals in this playing field.
He’s the one to pull you into a kiss, lips barely grazing against yours. But the feeling of finally kissing you again after so many years was like wildfire, consuming him wholly until the kiss turns feverish. His hand travels from your shoulders to your lower back, pulling you flush against his body. You hum against his lips, fingers clumsily undoing his buckle, and the prospect that you might be as eager as he is has him gripping the fabric of your dress.
Chan swears his vision goes black the moment your fingertips brush against his hardening erection, the feathery touch enough to make him sigh into your mouth.
A hand is pressed to his chest before he has the chance to think, and you’re pushing him backward until his back meets the wall. You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, leaning forward and nuzzling your face against his clothed cock.
“I missed you,” you whisper, hungry eyes looking up at him. “Don’t think I got to say that.”
Chan takes in the sight of you, memorizing and storing it in his mind alongside the countless images he already had of you on his knees for him. His fingers thread in your hair, your lips falling open with a sigh.
“I missed you too,” he professes. You have no idea how much.
With a smile, you quickly work his zipper open, pulling his jeans down his legs and pressing a wet kiss to his clothed erection. Chan feels your tongue lap at his member through his boxers, lips sucking around the head as your nails scrape the flesh of his thighs lightly.
It feels like you mouth at his length for hours, the light gray fabric of his boxers stained with your saliva and his precum, leaving Chan panting and tugging at your hair. You trail soft, wet kisses down his thigh while pushing his boxers out of your way, his cock already swollen and flushed. He’d be embarrassed for the way his body reacted so responsively to you if you weren’t also visibly as affected.
Your tongue circles his length languidly, lapping at a small bead of precum with a hum. Finally wrapping your lips around his tip, your tongue flicks teasingly beneath the head of his cock, Chan sucking in a deep breath and using his grip on your hair as leverage to pull you toward him. You almost obediently drop your jaw to slide his now fully hardened length into your mouth, your hand wrapping around the base as you begin to bob your head up and down his cock. Chan hisses your name when you relax your throat after a few passes, taking him fully into your pretty mouth, your nose brushing his pelvis.
“Fuck, you always looked so pretty like that,” Chan chokes out. “Pretty lips taking me so well.”
You groan at his words and the vibrations traveling along his shaft have Chan growling with a harsh tug of your hair, causing you to sputter as his cock hit the back of your throat. You seek purchase in his hips as tears prick the corner of your eyes. You’re unrelenting nonetheless, circling your tongue around him before pulling away, hands now sliding up his thigh before gently gliding over his balls. As you slowly lick from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, Chan’s gaze shifts down as he catches a glimpse of your thighs rubbing together. He feels himself twitch, and immediately pulls you away from him.
“Don’t wanna come like this, I need to fuck you,” he rasps out.
You stand back up, legs wobbly, and fumble with the buttons of his shirt while he slides your dress down your shoulders. Your movements are messy and filled with urgency, your breaths quickening as you both want nothing more than to strip away any form of barrier between you. Piling up five years of yearning will do that.
As your impatience reaches its peak, you tear open the last remaining buttons of his shirt, your nails grazing his skin as you slide the fabric down his shoulders. A wave of goosebumps travels across Chan’s body, and his hands abandon the task of removing your dress in favor of tracing the curve of your ass before picking you up off the floor.
“First door on the right,” you tell him, your words answering his unspoken thoughts as if you could read his mind. Chan nods, your proximity making it impossible for him not to press his lips to yours, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before licking into your mouth with a low hum.
He collides with a wall, missing the entrance to your bedroom by a hair’s breadth, and you giggle against his lips. Chan smiles back. Nothing’s ever heavy with you.
He lowers you onto the bed gently, his body instinctively slotting between your spread legs the way he did so many times before. You soon also wrap your thighs around his waist as you always did, pulling him closer until his cock is pressed up against your clothed pussy.
“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, grinding your hips forward and eliciting a quiet moan from Chan’s lips as he hastily nods. With a tight grip on your waist, he flips you both effortlessly.
Promptly sitting up on his thighs, you finally rid yourself of the inconvenient fabric of your dress, followed by your bra, your nipples instantly hardening. Chan sits up, eyes transfixed on your chest as his calloused thumbs trace the nubs before his lips circle around one, sucking harshly. As you gently roll your hips, he can feel the way your soaked panties cling to his skin as your core presses up against his thigh.
Your fingers tangle in his hair with a whimper, pushing his face into your breasts as he bites the sensitive skin. His lips leave your nipples with a wet sound, then trailing kisses up the column of your neck until his gaze is locked on yours again. He was dying to mark you, bite and suck on your skin until it blossomed into a beautiful maroon — but he knew better. You weren’t twenty anymore, and you weren’t his; in no sense of the word.
“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, eyes heavy with lust.
And he knows this is a terrible idea. This was exactly how he came to be a father.
But it’s not his mind that’s doing the thinking, and so he nods, his grip on your hips tightening as you pull your soaked panties to the side just enough to slide the swollen tip of his cock against your slick folds. Chan sucks in a breath, fighting a war against his own body not to come from this feeling alone. It wasn’t just how long it had been since he was with someone, it was you. It was all you. The effect you had always had on him having never faded, simply laying dormant until his body had you again.
Chan rests his forehead on yours as you slowly sink down on his length. His lips find your neck again, gently sucking the skin into his mouth as you slowly grind down on him, a whine falling from your lips and going straight to his cock. His hips buck up unwittingly, causing you to moan loudly in his ears. But your slow pace remains, and Chan knows he should savor this moment, but he wants nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until he forgets every minor issue aggravating his brain.
Such as the fact that he knows you will leave his life again the second you find out he lied to you.
So his hands find your waist and he flips you down onto the mattress once more. His eyes bore into you as you suck in a breath.
“Fuck me,” you plead, hips grinding into his cock again. “I want it, please—”
Chan doesn’t waste another second, retreating only to plunge back harshly into your cunt. He moves with deep strokes, hips falling into an erratic rhythm, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clenched around his waist. All he can hear is static and your choked moans as he presses you into the mattress.
“Missed this so fucking much,” he groans against your ear. And finally succumbing to his desires, he bends down to suck and nibble on the delicate skin of your neck, mind too focused on how your walls squeeze around him to worry about marking you. He laps at the small bruises he leaves behind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you mewl.
You roll your hips, matching his rhythm, and Chan feels a familiar heat rise within him. He reaches down to glide small circles around your clit, your body jolting and squirming. He absentmindedly smiles against your skin.
After an entire night of pretending his life was the same as it was five years ago, fucking you required no acting.
“It’s too much, fuck,” you whimper, tugging him by the hair until your lips are crashing together in a sloppy kiss. Your walls tighten around him, body clenching as the tension finally snaps, your orgasm coursing through your shaking body as Chan growls into your parted lips.
He keeps fucking into you, until his hips meet yours one last time, and a low groan reverberates through the room. His cock twitches inside of you as his body stills, filling you with his warm release which leaked out of you and onto your sheets as he pulled out with a sigh.
Chan throws himself onto the mattress, labored breaths leaving his heavy lungs. He pulls you into his arms, and you melt into his embrace as if it were a habit. It’s as though he’s gone back in time, even if temporarily.
He feels like he’s simply a guy making love with the girl he adores in the familiar comfort of his dorm room again.
When the first rays of sunlight seeped into your room, Chan was already awake. He watched as you slept, eyelids fluttering and a small smile adorning your lips.
It was as if you were his, in every sense of the word.
Guilt.
That’s what Chan feels every time he sees Hyerin’s laughing face on his phone’s wallpaper when he’s out, entertaining the silly lie he crafted.
It’s been two months since you reconnected and you effortlessly slipped him back into your life. The reunion with his old friends was expected — but Chan dreaded it, regardless. He found that out of the nine people that once comprised their group, only five remained. He wasn’t the only one who had gone his own way.
But he was the only one who had done it in the worst way possible, carelessly ghosting every single one of them, hoping his existence gradually faded from their memories.
That made facing his once best friend frightening. Minho was the first friend he made on the very first day of university, when Chan walked into his dorm room only to find he had snuck his cat into the building.
They were roommates for two years, and best friends for four. Chan complained loudly when he was assigned a new roommate. Minho was silent as he watched his best friend turn his back on him with no explanation.
Minho initially ignored him entirely, and Chan doesn’t fault him. When his vibrant face turned cold upon seeing him walk into a bar, Chan knew he earned that the moment he decided to ignore his friend’s every text message and phone call. When Minho made backhanded remarks about how nice it felt to have him back in their group, he knew he deserved it for not answering the door the only time his friend came looking for him.
It takes a drunken argument leading to a fist colliding with Chan’s cheek for Minho to finally address him. It takes them being escorted out of the bar by security for them to finally have a conversation, tears and resentment flowing freely as they sat at a bus stop late at night. After that, their friendship returned to what it was before, as if they had never been apart even for a second.
Despite the years and the changes, Minho was still his best friend — which was why he was the only person he came clean to.
Hyerin loved Minho, especially his cats. Her new favorite pastime quickly became going over to his house to play with her new ‘friends’, as she called them. And Chan was overwhelmed with happiness to witness his best friend falling under his daughter’s spell — his house now containing its very own box filled with every toy Hyerin mentioned even once, his kitchen stocked with all her favorite foods, and his cats falling asleep beside her anytime they came over to visit.
It was as if he was watching his two worlds collide. His past and present, which he had separated out of a senseless fear, intertwined so effortlessly it made him feel stupid for ever thinking he needed to build this barrier. For assuming the people he loved so much would reject him.
Made him feel even worse for walking away in a futile attempt to protect his feelings, because it only resulted in more hurt.
After so much of his time spent wondering, Chan finally has the answer to his questions. Some of his friends did settle for an ordinary adult life, some already married and some focusing their energy solely on climbing the corporate ladder. Still, some remained relatively unchanged — much like you did.
His social life blossomed again after reconnecting with his old friends. However, he still refused to hire a nanny, too fearful to leave Hyerin to a stranger’s care, resulting in constantly having to come up with excuses when his parents aren’t able to babysit. He won’t deny that he often fabricated these lies purely because staying in with his daughter and watching Tangled now outweighs any appeal of noisy nightclubs.
Jisung remained his salvation whenever he wanted to spend the night at your place, with Chan slowly but surely running out of reasons as to why you can’t go to his apartment for a change. He hasn’t had the heart or the courage to tell you the entire truth yet, only owning up to his lie about his job after you understandably asked him to listen to his new music and he was put on the spot.
Ever since you walked back into his life, he finds himself weaving a web of little white lies that slowly chip away at his heart.
He’s at a small gathering for his friend’s birthday, listening to Minho all but eulogize his fiancee. They have been a couple since university, Chan playing the wingman and encouraging his friend to finally do something about his crush (mostly because he couldn’t handle any more of Minho’s whining before going to sleep). Despite what everyone around them surmised, they beat all the odds and statistics and stayed together even after university. Chan would be happier about that if he hadn’t bet money on them breaking up before graduation. He wonders if Hongjoong will ask for his twenty bucks now that they’re friends again.
“No, really, settling down with someone is so good,” Minho says after another shot of Soju, a silly smile etched onto his lips. “I thought I would hate it, y’know? Thought slapping such a significant title on our relationship would wear it down, but it’s the complete opposite. Ever since she proposed, it’s like we’re two love-struck nineteen-year-olds again.”
Chan smiles, saying they should drink to that purely because he hopes the sensation of alcohol burning his throat will numb his overwhelming jealousy. After congratulating Minho for the umpteenth time, he finds himself listening to yet another story about his relationship.
And he’s happy for Minho, just as much as he’s happy for Wonwoo for getting married last year. He couldn’t express the overwhelming joy he felt upon discovering these people, who once meant so much to him, had successfully navigated their way through life. But envy rears its ugly head every time he listens to one of their stories, because Chan’s direction in life seems to be a winding road. He’s a father, and his love for Hyerin is immeasurable, but he’s still actively lying about this side of him simply because he feels as if maybe he made the right choices in life at the worst possible time.
As he’s walking out of Hongjoong’s apartment with you later that night, he wraps an arm around your waist, a smile spreading across his face when you nestle closer to him. You two discuss Wonwoo’s marriage, with you talking about how beautiful the ceremony was, but ultimately scowling at the mere thought of getting married. Chan feels the corner of his heart crack at your words, but he laughs it off.
“Do you think he wants kids?” he wonders aloud.
He expects you to laugh at his sudden curiosity. He doesn’t expect you to dig at the fissure in his heart with your words, causing it to shatter completely.
“Gosh, it’d be so weird to see.” You cringe, snuggling deeper into his arms as a chilly breeze brushes against you two. “I like kids, but I’d never have them myself. Feel like it’d kinda ruin my life.”
Chan feels his grip on your waist loosen.
“Having kids doesn’t ruin your life,” he reasons. “You’re given the chance to care for something so precious, so important to this world…” he trails off, shaking his head and taking a step away from you. It feels as if exasperation has filled his entire being. “You look into their eyes and see yourself, and it’s— the love you feel when you first see them is so pure and earth-shattering that you can’t think of anything but how to make that tiny being only experience the good in the world. It doesn’t ruin your life.”
You eye him with confusion, cocking your head to the side and huffing out a laugh. “You talk like you know what that’s like. If you ever have kids one day, then you’ll know—”
“But I do know,” he’s yelling before he can stop himself, his footsteps coming to a halt. “I know because I have that. I have that and it’s the most precious thing in my life and yet I’ve been taking it for granted. And for what?”
He scoffs bitterly, his gaze fixing on your features; your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged lipstick, the way your puzzled eyes gleam under the moonlight. He shakes his head.
“For childish illusions. The illusion that I could go back in time if I pretended hard enough, the illusion that this romanticized idea I have of my early twenties was superior to the life I have now,” Chan lets out a heavy breath, averting his gaze to the pavement. “The illusion that I could ever have you.”
“So it’s my fault you chose to lie about being a dad?” You blurt out.
He doesn’t lift his head. He can’t, the burden of guilt and shame weighing too heavily on his shoulders for him to face you.
“It’s my fault. You were simply the catalyst.”
“What do you even mean?”
“I mean I’ve always felt this way,” he exasperates, finally lifting his head but keeping his gaze anywhere but on you. He’s a coward. “I’ve always felt like maybe I was too young to be a dad, too immature to fully understand the consequences of the choices I made. I don’t regret my daughter, but I certainly regret the timing, and this haunts me every day. Meeting you again just made these feelings worse because you represent everything about my past that I no longer have.”
You remain quiet for a beat, but it feels like an eternity as Chan is forced to endure the deafening ring of your silence.
When you finally speak, your voice is unsteady. “You know, that’s why I always figured it was for the best that you left.”
“What?” Chan turns his gaze toward your face at last, your words stomping on his scattered heart one last time. He expects anger, but sorrow has taken over your expression, one so heavy he doesn’t recall a single moment in the years he’s known you where he’s seen you like this.
“You were always like this, Chan. You might think you were a different person back then, but you said it yourself,” you shrug with a sullen chuckle. “It’s only an illusion.”
He hums, nodding his head as it dawns on him. “You were never gonna be mine, were you? No matter what I did. I lied to you because I thought you would never want someone like who I am today. But I guess that was all in vain, ‘cause I’ve always been like this.”
“You always talked about getting married, settling down, having kids.” As you run a hand through your hair, an exasperated sigh falls from your lips. “You went along with our bullshit, but even back then, you were always like the dad of our group. This has always been you, Chan, but that’s not a bad thing. Don’t think you need to change or lie about who you are ‘cause you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, but…”
He scoffs. “But?”
“But we’re too different. We’ve always been. We’re great together in every way but the way you want us to be — the way I would love for us to be as well,” you simply say, offering him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
“And would it kill you if we tried? ‘Cause this unfulfilled hope has been killing me since I first fell in love with you.”
“What’s her name?” You simply ask, avoiding his question altogether. Chan furrows his brows. “Your daughter, what’s her name?”
He shifts on his feet. “Hyerin.”
“I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you as a dad.”
Chan shakes his head. “I’m far from the perfect father.”
“Good,” you state matter-of-factly. “Perfect wouldn’t be you.”
You fall into a much lighter silence, although it’s still far from comfortable. A swarm of questions fills Chan’s mind, but his words fade into silence and die on his lips.
He knows everything is over when you suck in a sharp breath, muttering, “I can’t be what you need. When love becomes too serious, I feel trapped and run away. You know what that’s like,” you trail off. “I know we loved each other back then, and I know I still love you now, but I think it’s my turn to walk away. I’m sorry, Chan.”
And just like that, he’s left to watch your figure slowly grow smaller and smaller as you fade into the dimly lit street. You don’t reprimand him for lying or question if he also loves you still. You don’t explain why you can’t make an effort, probably because you’re unsure of the answer yourself. It turns out you both remained unchanged.
And after all this time, it’s only then that Chan realizes you were always just as lost as he was.
Chan didn’t allow himself to think much about you since he watched you walk away that night. He missed you often, as he had done for so long before your last encounter, but he had long grown numb to that feeling.
In the two years he was apart from you for the second time, he learned that life isn’t black or white. He could be a father while also being his own person; a son, a friend, a boyfriend. He learned that prioritizing Hyerin didn’t mean neglecting himself, as that would negatively impact her as well. She couldn’t only know happiness if her father was always dripping with sadness.
He learned he doesn’t have to choose between who he is now and who he was at twenty years old; they were both him, with certain moments bringing out glimpses of one or the other.
Hyerin started elementary school and is blossoming into a caring little girl, no longer needing Chan to tie her pigtails in the morning or remind her to brush her teeth before bed. Although she still demands that they maintain their nightly routine of lying together until she falls asleep to the sound of his voice singing her favorite song.
During his first parent-teacher conference — after walking into the classroom fifteen minutes late — he’s stunned to see you sitting across from him yet again, a pencil holding up your ponytail the same way it did that night at the restaurant. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips.
You were Hyerin’s teacher. He recalled picking her up after her first day of school and listening to her gush over the art teacher who was so pretty and nice, and talking about how she wanted to be like her when she grows up.
It felt as if you were destined to find each other every time one of you chose to walk away.
Your friendship picked up again slowly this time — no rushing into bed together and no rushing into long overdue serious conversations. They had already been avoided for years, anyway, they could wait a bit longer. This is exactly what you needed; patience. Chan had never had the patience to wait for you, while you never had the patience to understand your own feelings.
It’s been ten months now, and he’s yet again sitting before you. The teachers and parents converse around you both as you sit in silence. When you think no one is watching, you exchange glances, struggling to suppress the silly smiles that insist on spreading across your faces.
As people leave the room one by one after the meeting, Chan approaches you.
“You’re Bang Hyerin’s father, correct?” You speak with a grin.
“Correct.”
“She’s an amazing kid,” you tell him.
He smiles, shifting his gaze toward his feet before his eyes find yours again as you speak.
“We could grab a coffee this weekend.”
This time, there are further implications hidden in your request. You’re not asking as a friend, like you’ve been doing these past months. Some things are heavy with you now, and this is something he’s only recently come to find. He’s also come to find that he loves that change.
So he answers, “Sure. Tomorrow at three?”
“Then I’m your date for tomorrow,” you say with a giggle. “See you there, cutie.”
And Chan lets out a hearty laugh at that, which earns him a scolding look from the other teachers in the room.
He isn’t sure what will come of this. Maybe you two are better off as friends and all it will take is a couple of months to figure that out. Maybe time has changed you both more than he can understand, and you will finally be able to try something real after all these years of unfulfilled hopes and childish illusions.
Either way, Chan knows he won’t let go of you this time.
He wants you to be his, in any sense of the word.
♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie @vlctorriaa @yongbokkiesworld
eyes full of you
in the days leading up to changbin’s birthday, august eleventh, you make his wildest dreams come true.
pairing: seo changbin x afab!reader
warnings: smut🔞!!!!!, switch!bin (mainly sub!bin), mutual masturbation, porn watching, talk of threesomes, voyeurism, and fxf sex, finger sucking, dirty pictures, pet play, ass play, degradation, humping, pegging, cock rings, handjobs, edging, dacryphilia, temperature play (ice cubes), nipple play, overstimulation, body worship, arm humping (?), somnophilia, food play, unprotected sex
notes: happy birthday my beloved binibug 🩷 now you can see why i wanted so many ideas for this fic! thank u to everyone who reached out. i tried to incorporate everything i could!! let’s just play pretend that this is feasible and anyways, it’s what he deserves!!! title from eleven by ive :)
changbin’s fairly easy to handle when it comes to presents. what can you buy him that he can’t already afford himself ten times over? you did get him something “big” for his special day, but it feels almost like a gift for you as well. he doesn’t want you to spend much on him and prefers when you do something heartfelt instead, you know that. you’ve already gifted him a scrapbook; you paid hyunjin under the table to paint your favorite picture of the two of you last year. what else could you do that hasn’t been done before?
until you remember your list.
your list! the extra special list you and changbin sat down and made not too long after you got comfortable having sex with each other of all the things you want to try together. he’s always so busy; there just hasn’t been much time to explore all of the things you’d written out, but now’s the perfect opportunity.
that’s how changbin finds you on the first day of august, leaned against your kitchen counter frantically writing on little pink scraps of paper and neatly folding them up to throw in a mason jar.
you must be so concentrated that you don’t hear him come in until he kicks his shoes off in the doorway.
“what are you writing?” changbin asks, sauntering up behind you and wrapping you in a warm back hug. he kisses your head and tries to look down over your shoulder to see what you’re writing.
you throw your hand up to cover his eyes.
“no peeking! close your eyes. here, back up.” changbin easily does as you say, closing his eyes tight. you grab him by the shoulders and move him where you want him, backing him up and pulling his arms up so his palms are facing the ceiling. he fights hard not to crack an eye open when he hears you screw the lid onto the mason jar and shake the little paper contents inside.
changbin coos out an excited ack! when you place the jar in his hands. he shakes the jar and wiggles his shoulders as he hears the paper rattle. “for me?!”
“yeah, um. happy early birthday! it’s not much, but! i mean- i figured it could be fun. what are you waiting for? open it!”
“you haven’t told me i could open my eyes yet,” changbin says, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. he laughs delightedly when you slap him gently on the chest and opens his eyes. he hasn’t looked down yet at the jar in his hands, but he kisses you on the cheek nonetheless. “thank you, dove. it’s perfect.”
“you don’t even know what it is yet.”
“it’s from you! that’s all it needs to be perfect.”
he’s a cheese ball, and you love him. you motion to the jar and changbin finally unscrews the lid.
“okay! okay, you get one a day. there’s eleven in there, so. haha- get it? eleven? august eleventh?! grand finale on your birthday! that just means you have to choose wisely,” you say, leaning into changbin’s chest. he giggles, clearly excited.
changbin turns the jar on its side and shuffles through the papers with his fingers. he picks up one and quickly changes his mind, drops it, and pulls out a different sliver of paper.
“okaaay! let’s see. oh. ohhh! what’s this?! yah!” he turns the paper in your direction and you stifle your smile by gently chomping onto his bicep with your teeth. changbin wraps you in his arms again and crumbles up the little piece of paper, tossing it on the counter. he rocks you from side to side. “naughty~ so, uh, when can we start?”
august 1st
mutual masturbation & porn watching
“i’m glad we’re starting off easy, honestly. tonight’s gonna be busy, you know? stay’s fifth birthday party.”
admittedly, this is something you’ve both done a few times before. changbin likes when you touch yourself for him far too much to go without shoving a hand down his pants too.
you’re both laying on your bed naked after a shared shower. your leg is thrown over one of changbin’s, and his head is resting on his arm, his other hand already playing with his half hard cock.
turning porn on wasn’t necessarily part of today’s plan, but you figured it might be fun to watch some of changbin’s favorite videos and see what really gets him off. the video that’s on screen now didn’t really surprise you, but just knowing that this is something that makes him cum is making your cunt sticky wet.
the man on screen is laid back while one woman bounces on his cock and another is perched on his face. you circle your clit a little faster when they meet in the middle to kiss, moaning prettily into each other's mouths.
“oh fuck,” you whisper. “is this- is this something you’d like, maybe? want me on your cock and someone else sitting on this sweet face?” you pinch his chin and he sighs, settling further into the pillows behind him.
“i mean it’s- it’s just a thought. i just think it’d be hot to see you, like, kiss and stuff.”
“mmm, kiss and stuff?” you hum, finally taking your eyes off the screen to look over at changbin. he snorts a laugh and shakes his head.
“ahhh, you know what i mean! i don’t- i don’t want to fuck anyone else. you’re perfect, god, you’re so fucking perfect. i just… it’d be hot? seeing you feel good.”
you look back at the screen again and now see one of the girls laying on her back while the other laps at her pussy, the man settling in on his knees behind her to fuck her from the back. you had been mindlessly playing with yourself while you spoke with changbin, but seeing the display in front of you has you spreading your legs wider and resuming your ministrations from earlier. changbin appears to be in the same boat, now circling the leaky head of his cock with a loose fist.
“you wanna see me kiss a pretty girl, changbinnie? have her kiss me and rub my clit while you fuck me?” you have to admit he’s right. it’s definitely a thought.
“oh fuck, yeah, yeah, keep talking. fuck, tell me more?”
“you could, ah, you could just sit back and watch us for a bit before you join, yeah? watch us play with our pussies while you play with your cock. you can’t- you can’t cum though, not before i say you can.”
changbin nods with you, jacking his cock faster and using his other hand to squeeze at your thigh that’s thrown over his.
“i won’t cum, i promise. i’ll be good. i’ll be so good, please, what else? what else will you do?”
neither of you are paying attention to the scene in front of you anymore, much more content with watching each other. changbin re-adjusts himself on his back so that he can get a better look at you and props his leg up on the bed. his eyes trail down to where your fingers are tapping at your clit.
“we’d rub our pussies together for you. fuck, we’d both be so wet you could hear it from where you’re sitting. oh changbin, we could- we could do it with your cock in the middle.”
“i’m gonna fucking cum, what the fuck,” changbin grits out, hand speeding up on his cock. he’s a vision, thumb and three fingers wrapped around himself while his pinky sticks out. “i want that, want it. you can use my cock. however you want, however you need as long as you cum. as long as you cum, fuck, ‘m cumming. i’m-! cumming, fuck.” changbin’s hips thrust erratically as he milks his cock, and you run your toes slowly up his leg. seeing him cum so hard does you in too, rubbing yourself harder and your cunt throbs, pulsing, as you cum on your fingers.
changbin watches you come down from your high and immediately reaches for your hand to bring your sticky fingers to his mouth. you roll over toward him and latch yourself to his side, fucking his mouth slowly with your aching fingers and playing gently with his tongue.
when you pull them out, changbin sighs and combs a hand through his hair. “fuuuck, i need another shower. i think you need one too, come on. we’ve still got some time before i need to leave. i wanna use the shower head on you~”
august 2nd
photos
changbin’s head is thrown back against the pillow, and he’s gripping your hips like he’ll never let go again.
“h-holy shit, baby. oh, dove, f-feels so fucking deep,” changbin whines, bucking his hips up to meet you.
your hands are pressing down on his chest, not only to give you leverage to bounce but to pin him down. it’s not like he’d fight you anyways; he likes you on top too much.
“fuck. fuck! your tits.” his eyes are locked on your chest and the way it moves with every thrust. changbin lifts himself on his elbows and goes to sit up so that he can latch his sinful little mouth onto one of your nipples, but you reach to the back of his neck and gently grab hold of the collar he’s wearing to stop him.
“aht, stay down. atta boy, good.”
the pastel pink collar looks good on him. you knew it would because he picked it out himself. there’s a pink bow on the front too, and right under that bow is a dangling, heart-shaped charm. the word bunny is engraved on the front, and your initials are carved into the back.
“look how sweet you are,” you croon, kissing him on the lips and releasing your hold on his collar. “you like when i fuck you like this?”
“i love it, damn it, i love it when you fuck me. your pussy feels so fucking good! ‘s making me crazy.” so crazy he’s starting to drool over it.
you push him back down onto his pillow, and he whines, bringing one hand up to shakily wipe the spit away from his chin. you plant your hands on his chest again and fuck yourself down harder on his cock. the heart pendant dangling from his collar lightly jingles as you bounce. changbin throws his head back hard enough that the pendant gets turned around, and instead of bunny facing you it’s now your initials.
that’s what inspires you to finally reach over and pick up your phone. changbin whines at the loss of one of your hands on his chest, but it turns into a high pitched moan when he sees what you have in your hand.
“oh? slutty,” you laugh. “want me to take a pretty picture of you?” you make sure the shutter sound is on. click.
“look at you, my sweet little boy. so horny, so desperate. should i take some more?”
“p-please, please take more, ah,” changbin cries.
it’s not like they’re actually good pictures. you’re riding his cock too hard to keep your hand steady, much less your phone. but they’re good enough. good enough that you’ll keep them locked away for those lonely nights when he’s not by your side.
“open your fucking mouth,” you grit through your teeth. he does immediately, and the fingers of your other hand make their way between his lips. he sucks sloppily on your middle and ring finger as your others squeeze his cheeks. click. his moan is muffled.
“you should post these on your new instagram, huh? you think everyone would want to see you like this, sweet boy?” mhm. “how many likes do you think you’d get?”
changbin cries out, and he gags around your fingers. you pull them out finally and wipe the mess onto his cheek.
“stick your tongue out. there, yeah.” click. “they’d see you lookin’ so pretty for me, baby. know what else they’d see? they’d see my initials. right fucking here.” you tug at the charm on his collar. “they’d know you’re mine. that you belong to me, isn’t that right?”
“yes! yes, please, ‘s right. i belong to you! i do, ‘m yours. i’m your bunny. fuck, oh my- ‘m gonna cum. can i cum? can i please?”
he’s fighting the arch in his back trying to stay flat on the bed, but you’ve decided he deserves to cum whenever he wants. he’s the birthday boy after all.
“of course you can cum, baby. you deserve it. come on, gonna fill me up? there you go. just give it to me, gimme your cum.” and he could never say no to that. click.
august 3rd
pet play & ass play
“are you sure this isn’t my birthday present?” you ask, swiftly lifting your crossed feet from the coffee table in front of you so changbin can dust under them. “come on, little bunny, you missed a spot.”
he looks so fucking sweet. changbin usually tends to go for tighter clothes that show off his bulging muscles, but you like it just as well when his clothing is oversized. he’s cute, with his big t-shirt on and black lop-bunny ears clipped to his hair. not to mention the little black cotton tail that you can see whenever he bends over. you’d gotten this vibrating bunny tail plug forever ago, and changbin’s finally able to put it to use.
you’re having to hold yourself back from squealing every time he walks into the room with you today. he’s acting shy, coy, his cock is already tenting his shirt. you told him earlier not to wear any underwear, and you can tell he’s not, even though he’s making an effort to bend over as little as possible.
changbin wipes the cloth over the table again, humming a little tune while he works. he’s not expecting the vibrations to start again, and his knees wobble when you press the little button on your phone. changbin steadies himself by grabbing the edge of the table.
“aht, careful. clean the corner again; don’t leave any smudges.”
“s-sorry, sorry. let me… again. i can do better. sorry,” changbin stutters, shakily wiping the edge of the table where his hand just was. when he’s done, he doesn’t make an effort to move though.
“something the matter?” you ask. you cock your head to the side, and changbin whimpers. “i need you to wash the dishes, please.”
he nods his head but still doesn’t move. you shut the vibrations off, and he noticeably exhales.
“i’m- um. leaking. it’s- ‘s making me leak. i’m really, um. i’m hard.”
you giggle at that and pick your phone back up. you pause, making sure to look changbin in the eyes, and click your screen to start the vibrations up again. changbin keens high in his throat and finally drops to his knees in front of the couch.
“your little cock is leaky, bunny?” m-mhm. “show it to me. lift your shirt up. yes, that’s good. here, bite the hem like that. good fucking boy. what a pretty picture you make.” pretty is an understatement. changbin’s looking up at you through his lashes while he holds his shirt up with his teeth. he wasn’t lying; his cock is leaking steadily from the tip as the vibrations from his plug stimulate his prostate. you watch as his cock throbs and spits out another glob of precum. changbin spreads his knees wider and slowly rocks his hips up so his tip rubs softly against his stomach.
“don’t do that. you cum how i want you to or not at all, hear me?” he nods his head quickly, and his bunny ears flop with the movement. so fucking cute. you give him a few more seconds to feel the vibrations and then tap your phone again to stop it.
changbin stands back up on shaky legs when you tell him again that you need the dishes washed. he walks carefully to the kitchen, and it’s the first time of the day that he’s out of your sight. you hear the water turn on and the dishes clanking in the sink and go back to watching your show, but nothing’s as interesting as the sweet boy in your kitchen. his dishwashing is going too well, you think, so you turn his plug on again and immediately hear him scramble, dropping a dish into the soapy water.
he’s too quiet though.
you leave your spot on the couch to creep around the corner of the kitchen and see changbin dutifully stood at the sink, dishes clean, but he’s humping his cock against the edge of counter. he’s biting down on his lower lip to keep from making a noise. it’s a good thing you decided to get up and check on him or else he’d be getting himself in trouble.
“what are you doing, bunny?”
changbin’s hips stutter, but they don’t stop moving.
“i wanna cum! i wanna cum so bad, please. i- i’m good, i cleaned the dishes just like you asked me to.”
you suppose he’s right. he has been good all day. he’s dusted your apartment, done your laundry, neatly folded your clothes, and now has done your dishes. next time, you’ll make sure to get him a little maid costume he can wear.
“you have been my good boy today, haven’t you?” rhetorical question. he’s always your good boy. “alright then. let’s make you cum.” changbin moans as you tap your phone screen and turn on his plug again. you set your phone on the counter and step behind him. your arms wrap around his middle, and he relaxes against you, head falling back to rest on your shoulder.
“please make me cum. please let me,” he whispers. you don’t answer him but instead bring one hand down to lightly stroke his cock while the other grabs hold of the cottontail of the plug. changbin lets out a raspy oh, fuuuuck and fucks forward into your fist, then back to feel you push the plug against him harder. he keeps going like that, and the sight alone and his noises are making your panties sticky wet.
“bunny’s gonna cum?”
he nods. “yeah, gonna cum. bunny’s gonna cum. shit, fuck! ‘m cumming, don’t stop, i’m fucking-” you swear he stops breathing as he cums, thick ropes of white streaking out into the soapy water.
you stumble a bit as changbin leans back on you, spent from his orgasm. he whines and pinches you on the hip which leads to you pinching his nipple in retaliation, and you reach down and unlock your phone to turn his plug off. he whines.
“yah! why’d you make me cum in the water? at least the dishes weren’t in there or i’d have to do them again.”
august 4th
pegging
“my bin, my bunny. you like this? being fucked like a whore?”
“love it! i love it, i-! i’m- full. i feel so full.”
you’ve got him on his back. changbin’s so much more flexible than you ever could have dreamed of when you first started dating, and he loves when you put that to use. your hands are pressing his knees to his chest while his hands grip the headboard.
he’s donning those cute little lop bunny ears he wore just yesterday. he just looks so precious in them; changbin is your sweet bunny through and through.
a particularly sharp thrust from you has changbin turning his head; one of the ears flops down over his eye. he squeezes his eyes shut and takes the tip of the ear into his mouth to nibble on. he’s mumbling around the fuzzy fabric of the ear, and you’d tug it out of his mouth to hear him clearly, but he just looks so cute like that.
your thighs are on fire. truly, you don’t see how changbin fucks you so diligently all the time, it’s work. you ignore the pain as best you can and lean back onto your heels to put your back into your thrusts.
changbin wails, hands loosening their hold on the headboard and arms flailing. he clasps a hand over his mouth to try and stifle his cries, but you tug his hand down and entangle his fingers with yours.
“let me hear your cute little noises, bunny baby, don’t hold back.”
“won’t hold back, won’t,” changbin babbles mindlessly. your thrusts are fucking him up the bed, and his pecs jiggle each time your hips meet his ass. he can’t be still. his fingers squeeze yours while the fingers of his other hand grip at the sheets, his toes curl, point, and unpoint. as he shakes his head from size to side, one of the bunny ear clips catches on the pillow and pulls his hair.
changbin whines pitifully and scrunches his face up. you go to remove the offending ear clip, but he stops you quickly.
“no! no please, fix it. jus’ fix it, my- my ears!” changbin begs. you coo at how cute he is and quickly fix the clip in his hair, running your fingers through the curly and sweat matted hair on his forehead. there you go, all better.
“better, all better,” he repeats after you. his cock is steadily dribbling precum against his stomach, leaking into the divot of his belly button. his stomach quivers when you lightly graze your fingers over his balls.
you slow your thrusts down so that you can rake your nails down his thighs. changbin rewards you with a full body shiver, and you pat one of his thighs.
“turn over for me, please. wanna see your cute little ass.”
you slowly help changbin lower his legs back down from where you had him pretzeled, and he hums when you massage his hips. slowly but surely he rolls over onto his stomach, and he yelps when you lean down and bite him on the ass. changbin gets his knees under him and lifts himself up onto his knees while he pulls the pillow under his head to hold onto.
“arch your back. there you go, i love that,” you say, kneading your hands slowly up and down the bow of his back. “look at you. on your hands and knees for me like a little slut. you want me to give it to you hard? come on, say it.”
he nods against the pillow.
“i’m- binnie’s a slut for you. i like- i like when you fuck me on my hands and knees. please, i like it so much. will you put it back in? fuck me hard. will you please fuck me?”
how could you say no when he asks so sweetly?
august 5th
cockrings & edging
you don’t even remember where you found this absolute gem of a purchase, but you’re so glad you did. no matter how much changbin might snivel and whine about it in the near future, you know he’s glad too.
he’d just gotten back from dinner with hyunjin, and not even ten minutes later you have him naked and panting. you’ve oiled up his cute little cock with your favorite lube and circled it with the cutest cockring you’ve ever seen. it fits changbin down to a tee, literally and figuratively.
it’s pink with two little bunny ears and oh so perfect for your birthday boy.
“you like it?” you ask. he’s worn cockrings before. several times in fact.
“i like it,” comes changbin’s whispered response. his head flops down on the back of the couch when you slowly start to jerk him off. he’s still got those lensless glasses on, but other than that he’s completely and gloriously naked.
he sighs, deep in his chest. you can tell he’s completely pliant for you, and it makes you chuckle.
“relaxed?” you ask him, and you see his lips quirk up.
“so relaxed.”
“good. i want you to be. ‘m gonna make you feel so good, okay? you deserve that, you know.”
he’s never worried about you making him feel good, but you want him to know anyway. with another small squeeze of the lube to the tip of his cock, you start to really work his cock with your fist. it usually wouldn’t take long for changbin to start fucking up into your hand, but it seems he’s keen on letting you get him off at your own pace for now.
you kiss the head of his cock and lightly kitten lick the slit until changbin grunts. you’re just teasing. you’re not giving him your mouth tonight, he’ll have to settle for your hands. that’s a compromise he’s quite happy with though, don’t worry.
the lube covering his cock makes him slick in your hands, and you stroke him deep and slow until you notice one of his thighs start to shake. you give him just a few more pumps of your fist until you pull off, and changbin immediately blows out a harsh breath that makes the curled hair on his forehead flutter.
“good?” you ask, and he nods, still relaxed against the couch. you bring your hands back to his cock, one now going down to knead at his balls while the other continues to jerk him off. changbin spreads his legs wider for you and adjusts his position so that his hips are lifted higher for you to play.
his breathing gets deeper as you continue to work him over, and you know he’s close when his leg starts to shake again. you pull off once more, and changbin lightly lurches forward this time. his hands grip the back of the couch tightly.
“oh wow, fuck. keep- keep going, please,” he requests, and you’re back to it again. jerking his cock and letting go when changbin gets close. he loves being edged; you came to realize that fairly early on in your relationship, and that hasn’t changed.
you tap lightly on the pink bunny cockring he wears and laugh.
“you don’t even need this thing, do you? you wouldn’t dare cum unless i gave you permission anyway.”
august 6th
temperature play & nipple play
“s-s-shit that’s cold!” changbin cries, back arching sharply. he proceeds to curl in on himself slightly, held back by the pink cuffs that bind his wrist to the headboard.
you hum sympathetically, dropping the ice back into the small bowl that’s set beside you on the bed. you pinch his hardened nipples with your cold fingers, reveling in the way changbin whimpers at the touch.
“it’s cold, baby?” y-yes. “here, i can help. i’m just trying to cool you off after you worked so hard at practice.”
you lean forward now, letting a dribble of spit slowly fall from your lips and onto his nipple before chasing it with your mouth. your mouth latches onto changbin’s nipple, and he makes a noise almost similar to that of a wounded animal. you suck hard, cheeks hollowing and tongue lapping at the sensitive bud.
“‘s that better?” your question is muffled.
“it’s so, ahh fuck, your mouth’s so warm.”
you pick up a piece of ice from your bowl and bring it to his other nipple while your mouth remains occupied with the other. changbin yelps, arms tensing hard above his head and rattling the cuffs. you slowly trace the ice cube around his nipple and follow its pace with your tongue, stimulating both of his nipples at once.
changbin shivers as the ice cube begins to melt on his skin, a small rivulet of water trails down his stomach to find his hip.
you pull away and pop the mostly melted cube into your mouth, crunching it up and rubbing your thumb softly over changbin’s swollen nipple. much to his surprise, you bring your hand down on the side of his chest in a slap. his back bows so harshly that you have to push him back down with both of your hands.
while his eyes are squeezed shut you grab a cube in each hand, bringing them back down to trace over his nipples. both cubes begin to melt quickly due to the warmth of changbin’s chest. once they’ve fully melted, you coo over how red his chest is. the skin around is nipples is pink and ice-cold to the touch.
his already puffy nipples seem even more swollen now, and they’re impossible to resist. you pinch at both of them now, flicking them with your nails and pulling to hear him cry out.
“does it feel good, binnie?” you ask. what a redundant question.
“they’re- ah! numb, i can’t, can’t. please, they’re so c-cold.”
you pout at him and cock your head but ultimately decide to give your sweet boy some much needed relief, but not before leaning in close and blowing cold air onto both of his abused nipples. the cuffs rattle again, and his legs snap shut around you. you giggle and press your warm tongue flat against his nipple, and it soothes him like a balm.
while you lick and suck gently against his sore nipples, you finally take note of his hard cock pressed against your thigh. you’d been so focused on his chest that you didn’t notice that you’d been making changbin suffer somewhere else too.
his noises are sweet and desperate, and you want him to cum soon. he’s lucky you’re almost as desperate as he is or else you’d be putting the ice cubes to use somewhere else.
august 7th
overstimulation
“f-fuck, fuck! it’s so much,” changbin cries. you’ve been playing with him ever since he got home from dance practice earlier. his stomach is streaked with multiple ropes of cum.
“it’s so much, but you like it,” you respond. you know his limits, and he hasn’t used his word; he’s just whining. “see how hard your cock is for me? you like it, and you’re gonna cum again.”
changbin grunts, throwing an arm over his face. his hips tremble, almost like they don’t know if they want to buck forwards into the warmth of your hands or escape their stimulation. you’re sitting between his spread legs, both hands occupied with changbin’s steadily leaking cock.
“i- fuck, i wanna cum. i don’t- i can’t? fuck, please,” he laughs, delirious. “i don’t even know what i’m saying.”
“you don’t have to say anything, binnie. all you have to do is lay there and look pretty for me. you can do that, right?”
“can. i can do that,” he mumbles. changbin bites his lip and looks down at you when you reach a hand up to pry his arm away from his face. both hands encircle his cock again, three fingers of one hand wrapped tight around the base while your pinky and ring finger rest again the skin of his groin and your other hand slickly jerks the tip of his cock.
changbin props himself up on his elbows to watch you, but that doesn’t last for long. when you slightly lean over to spit on the head of his cock, his eyes roll back in his head.
“holy s-shit. shit, ‘m close, i-. make me take it, make me take it! tell me to. please i- tell me to take it.” his chin quivers, and his eyebrows furrow.
“look at you. you just wanna cum so bad, don’t you? take it then. just take it for me, okay? you can, my sweet little crybaby.”
his hips thrust up, choppy and uncoordinated, and he cums for the third time that night with a shout. changbin’s cock throbs violently, but only the slightest bit of clear liquid oozes from his tip. he grows overwhelmed quickly, reaching his hands down to shakily cup yours to stop your moments and entwining your messy fingers together.
you crawl up to rest beside him for a few minutes, kissing and doting on your darling boy just the way you know he needs after something like this. by the time you decide to get up to run a washcloth under warm water to wipe him down with, he’s out like a light.
august 8th
body worship
he’s already starting to squirm and you’ve just started. he has one rule tonight, and you can tell it’s already messing with his head. he’s just so used to you pampering him. he swears you’re basically able to read his mind, always knowing what he wants and what he needs. tonight though, he has to tell you.
having changbin at your mercy is always a power trip.
“it’s your big day, isn’t it bin? since you’re the birthday boy, you have to tell me what it is that you want.”
you start out by massaging his legs.
“my changbin has such strong legs. you work so hard, don’t you? and look at these thighs! so thick, baby.” your hands glide up to his thighs and you squeeze them. “what should i do here?”
“wanna feel- feel your pussy. sit on my thigh? please? ohhh, fuck, ohfuck, you’re so wet. i- i’m making you wet?” you grind yourself down on his thigh in answer. he’s definitely making you wet.
“my pussy’s soaking wet, baby, you feel it?” you know he does. “what about here?”
his stomach. one of your favorite things about your man. so soft yet so muscular at the same time. your knead your hands up and down his torso and wait for his reply.
“kiss- kiss it? just want your lips on me,” he sighs, cheeks tinting red at the admission. you’re not going to deny him tonight, so you back yourself up and lean down to press kisses to his belly. you suck a wet kiss against his belly button, and he keens, throwing his head back.
“these fucking pecs, bin. you work so hard on them too, yeah? and i know you like when i play with them…” you look up at him expectantly.
“um, just. your fingers,” changbin replies.
“what about ‘em? what do you want me to do with my fingers, come on, be specific for me.”
“pinch, pinch my nipples. like- like that! yes, like that. that- oh, that feels so good,” he begs, chest arching towards your nimble fingers as they pluck and pinch just like he asked.
“sweet boy, perfect boy. you’re doing so well, changbin. making me so proud, baby.” that makes him whimper.
“mmm, and these. changbin, your arms. you’ve put in so much time and effort to make them big and strong. i just wanna fucking… bite ‘em. wanna rub my pussy on your biceps, what the fuck!” you laugh, but it’s true.
changbin’s not laughing though, he’s grabbing hold of your thighs and tugging you forwards.
“do it? please, please i want you to do that! oh my god.”
well, since he asked for it, why not? you allow him to pull you up his body, and you maneuver his arm so it’s sticking straight out to the side. it’s a bit of an odd position, but if you press close enough to him you can feel the bulge of his muscle on your pussy. his skin is warm, and when changbin flexes his arm muscle it shocks a moan out of you.
changbin looks close to tears at the erotic sight of you slowly grinding against the bulging muscle of his bicep. the hand on his opposite arm reaches across his body to take hold of your thigh and squeeze.
“fuck, binnie, oh. what- what about this? what about this pretty little cock? fuuuck, changbin, such a pretty body.” he hisses when you reach your hand down to fondle his hard cock.
his eyes are still glued to the way you’re humping his arm, but his hips cant up into your hand.
“fuck me. i want you to fuck me, i want to make you cum.”
august 9th
somnophilia
you’re so pretty laying there like that. this was the plan anyway since he pulled this particular kink out of his birthday jar, but practice ran late today which makes it even more perfect.
changbin goes about his business as usual after he closes the bedroom door lightly, tiptoeing to the bathroom to take a quick shower and brush his teeth. when he’s done, he slowly crawls into the bed and settles behind you, breathing in the scent of your hair.
you don’t wake up when he wraps his arms around you, but you do mold yourself to changbin’s front as if you were subconsciously expecting him. even asleep, your body seeks out his gentle touch. changbin reaches down to entwine your fingers together.
“binnie’s baby, my baby.” a sweet kiss to the nape of your neck. “my love, my light.”
the soft silk of your cute little sleep shirt feels so good against his bare chest, and his nipples pebble when they rub against the cool fabric. you’re wearing his favorite panties too, he can see them peeking out from under the sheets.
changbin smirks at the sight and bites his lip. what a little minx you are, how sweet of you to wear his favorite pair to sleep for him. his hand leaves yours so he can trace the lace trim of your panties, and that same hand travels lower so that it’s now squished between the press of your thighs. he can feel how warm your cunt is through the fabric. changbin gently rubs his fingers up and down the gusset of your panties, and he hisses when he feels that you’re wet.
“ready for me,” he whispers and presses a kiss to your shoulder.
changbin makes to take your panties off, tugging the hem down until you start to roll over. he freezes and looks to your face to see if you’re awake and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he sees your eyes still closed.
“so sweet.” changbin manages to pull your underwear halfway down your thighs and settles his hand between your legs again, paying special attention to your wet little clit now. he hums.
changbin maneuvers you back to your side so that your back is pressed to his chest again. his cock slips between your thighs, and he fucks against the lips of your cunt until he can’t take it anymore, slowly sheathing himself inside the warmth of your body.
his lips find the lobe of your ear and he sucks it into his mouth. “always ready for me, this pussy. baby let me in, let binnie in,” as he finally stills inside you.
you feel him smirk against the shell of your ear as you slowly blink into consciousness and your body quakes at the much welcome intrusion.
“mmm, bin?” you ask, he thrusts once at the sound of your sleepy voice. you’re shivering, from the stretch of his fat cock and the chill air of the room. changbin lifts the sheet up to fully cover you both.
“it’s me. always me,” changbin replies. his strong arms press you tighter against him, and you bring a hand up to run through his curly hair. “you spoil me, sweetheart. needed this sweet pussy. ‘m gonna cum in it.”
august 10th
food play
he’s excited for tonight’s award show, you can tell. bouncy and energetic and singing loudly into every room he goes. even more so now that you’re both in the kitchen.
“taste good?” you ask, watching as changbin sucks your finger all the way into his mouth to lick the icing off. he pulls off with a pop! and grins at you slyly.
“mhm, so tasty~”
his real birthday cake is sitting in a nice glass cake plate on the other side of the counter. you didn’t want to ruin the cake you’ll actually be eating tomorrow, so you decided to make a small one for you and your boyfriend to play with.
another brush of your fingers in the pink icing leads them to changbin’s mouth again, and before you allow them inside, you swipe them against his lips. you kiss him before he has a chance to whine about the mess you made on his face, licking his lips and tasting the icing for yourself before feeding your fingers back to him.
“mm, you’re right. it is tasty.”
you back yourself up until you reach your kitchen table and lift to sit on it, raising your shirt over your head and tossing it at him. he catches it with a smirk and playful eyes, dutifully watching as you continue to remove your bra and toss that to him as well.
you swipe your finger down the side of the cake, and instead of lifting the sweet icing to your mouth, you circle your nipple with it. you gasp at the foreign feeling. the icing is thick and cool, and a chill travels down your back at the sensation. you beckon changbin closer with your sticky index finger, and he follows like a man starved.
the second changbin stands in front of you, he ducks his head to latch onto your nipple. your back arches as he sucks hard, flicking his tongue and moaning as the icing coats it. changbin pulls off to survey his work and quickly dives back in to lick away all of the lingering sweetness.
“here, here baby, get the other,” you coo, giving your other nipple the same treatment. changbin easily moves to the other side of your chest, sucking and licking at your icing-covered nipple. his hands come up to play with your tits, squeezing and kneading while his mouth works.
you smear more of the icing in between your tits and throw your back back when changbin licks up the valley of your chest.
“mmm, wanna put some on your cock,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his head and holding him close.
changbin whines and ruts forward against your clothed cunt. he always gets this way when your tits are involved.
“‘m not done with you yet though, here.”
instead of just the icing this time, you grab a small handful of the vanilla cake in your hand and smear it down your chest, ignoring how the feeling makes you want to cringe when you see changbin’s eyes widen sweetly.
“eat up, birthday boy. don’t you want your dessert?”
august 11th
surprise!
“wait, i think you missed one?” changbin said, lifting the last piece of paper up and flipping it over to check on the back. “it’s blank?”
“nah, i didn’t miss one! i’m just sneaky,” you reply. you’ve been nervous all day up until this moment, but now that changbin’s in front of you your nerves just seem to disappear. he has that effect on you. “i actually, uh, have one more actual present for you?”
changbin looks up at you from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and stands up to take hold of your hands.
“baby, you’ve spoiled me every day for close to two weeks! you’ve done so much for me already.” he wraps you in his arms and sways you from side to side, kissing your lips once, twice. you finally manage to wriggle from his arms and walk quietly to your nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a neatly wrapped box that makes changbin’s eyebrows lift.
changbin lets you put the box in his hand and kisses your hair in thanks. you look into his eyes and gently brush the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose.
“happy birthday, seo changbin. i really, really love you.”
his eyes shine, and you think he’s beautiful. however, he’s quickly biting down on his bottom lip and resting his head on top of yours so you can’t see his eyes water.
“no, don’t-! stop! stop, you can’t cry! don’t do that or i’ll cry! you can’t cry on your birthday!” you wail, slapping at his shoulder and burying your face against his chest. he laughs weakly and sniffs, squeezing you tight.
“yah, i’m not crying! you must be seeing things,” he huffs. you decide to let him get away with that just this once. birthday boy privileges and whatnot.
changbin unwraps the bow and lifts the top of the box, tossing it back onto the bed. his eyes widen when they land on the little jewelry box on the inside.
“now listen, it’s nothing crazy! i just thought-”
“you’re proposing to me?!” changbin hollers in delight.
“no, you goof! jesus, just open it, please!” you slap your hand against your forehead, and changbin cackles. he does as you say though and gasps when he opens the box to find a nice, matte black tungsten ring inside.
“hold it up, look on the inside,” you instruct, and you lean forward when changbin does to get a closer look.
the inside of the ring is engraved with your handwriting.
always and forever.
changbin laughs and looks down, a tear finally cascading down his face. he wipes at his cheek before sliding the ring onto his finger. a perfect fit.
“look! i got one too.” you skip back over to your nightstand and pull out the box with your ring in it and sliding it onto your finger, matching black gem in the middle. he takes hold of your fingers to look at your ring and smiles, noting how well both of the rings go together.
“i just wanted to get us matching couple rings, you know? so! i mean, or they can be promise rings, or whatever. just… yeah,” you stammer. changbin kisses you, smiling.
“i love you. i love you so much. you’re perfect for me, you know that?” he asks, cupping your cheeks. “i’m- i’m so lucky to be loved by you.”
changbin turns you around and walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed.
“i want to show you, since you’ve been so good to me. you’ll let me be good to you, right?” it’s his birthday, but you’d never say no to that.
before you know it, you’re both naked and pressed tightly together on the bed. changbin’s on top of you, strong body rolling against yours while you kiss.
“let me- ah! let me get on top?” changbin hums at your request and mumbles an enthusiastic fuck yeah against your lips.
you do just that, rolling him over and perching prettily over his cock. changbin wraps an arm around you while he uses his other hand to guide his cock inside of you. he kisses you, deep and dirty, as he sheaths himself inside. you moan against his lips, and he responds to that eagerly with a moan of his own.
your rhythm is slow, much softer than anything you’ve done for the past almost two weeks leading up to changbin’s special day. you cup his cheeks in both of your hands, kissing his forehead, nose, and finally his lips again.
changbin turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your palm. he cups your hand in his and pulls it from his face, curling your fingers over his and gazing down at the ring you’re wearing.
“my dove, my baby, one day i’ll give you a real ring. i promise you that. i’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” changbin says, kissing the ring again and looking up into your eyes. “there’s nothing i want more than to be your husband.”
he kisses up your arm, over your heart and to your lips.
“but first, i’m going to make you cum.”
“what are you doing?” you mumble, words muffled by the skin of changbin’s warm chest. you’ve been laying snug in the crook of his arm since you finished. changbin grunts loudly as he reaches over to pick his phone up from the nightstand.
“just texting the group chat to tell them you put on a ring on it before i did. i can’t believe i’m the first one to get hitched! wait, can i listen to single ladies one last time?”
“don’t–” chan manages to huff out through gritted teeth, “don’t look at me like that.”
your already wide eyes grow wider, blinking unknowingly at him. you’re perched on the edge of the bed, chan standing over you, and you have to tilt your head up in order to properly look him in the eyes. he groans, biting his lip before he presses his mouth onto yours, slipping his tongue into your warm mouth. you can only whimper confusedly before he pulls back.
“i said, don’t fucking look at me like that, holy s–” his eyes meet your own watery ones momentarily, “fucking, jesus christ.”
your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and you’re too hazy to understand why he is acting so… peculiar today. it isn’t like you never have sex, you do this quite often, actually, so why is he acting so upset? what were you doing wrong?
“don’t look at you like what, chan?” you ask. maybe in another scenario, the comment would’ve sounded bratty, laced with cunningness as you turned your lips upwards into a sly smile, but now the words only sound overly confused. he groans once more, burying his face in his hands. when he takes them off and meets eyes with you, you can see the brown of his irises melt.
“like that! like i’m–” he sighs, “like i’m fucking hurting you,” he says, looking down at the floor. then, he looks up, and says: “like i’m not gonna give you the best fucking orgasm you’ve felt in your life. better than you deserve.”
you swallow the lump in your throat and manage to whisper: “i want it,” though it comes out shaky and whinier than you’d wished it to. chan smirks at the comment.
“oh, i know you want it. you’re just gonna have to wait, okay? be a good girl and wait for me.” he slaps the top of your thigh softly and you can merely nod before he prods at your clothed cunt, pushing his forefinger on top of the fabric, right at the entrance of your slit. your hips buck up involuntarily, making chan grin.
“needy baby.”
you slap your hand over your mouth, muffling the whimper that comes out of your mouth when chan presses an open mouthed kiss over the fabric. you shudder at the feeling and find chan’s eyes blinking up at you, looking thoroughly impressed.
“you like that, hm?” he teases, laughing softly when you hide your face behind your arm. “okay, okay,” he gives in, “tell me what you want, and i’ll give it to you. you just gotta be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
you want nothing more than to tell him, but you find it hard to form any comprehensible thoughts, even if he had barely done anything to you. maybe chan wasn’t the only one acting weird today. at the lack of answer, chan raises his brows.
“what is it, hm? you don’t know? you’re fucked dumb already?” he retorts, and your hand moves to your mouth with the speed of lightning, but it’s just not enough to cover up the embarrassingly loud whimper that escapes your mouth. chan sighs, acts as if he’s mad, but you can see the smile creeping onto his lips, revealing that it’s all just an act.
“seems like daddy’s gonna have to decide, then,” he says, and the words are immediately followed up by a tug at your panties, pushed to the side as he nips at your clit, his middle finger nudging at the entrance of your cunt. “since you can’t think for yourself. it’s alright, you just gotta sit still and look pretty for me,” he whispers with his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breath fanning into your ear, as his fingers enter your hot cunt.
you start getting restless when the finger stills inside you, suddenly completely motionless. you can’t be troubled for long though, because quickly, a second finger is entering your cunt, moving up and down and apart from each other, properly preparing you for chan - at least, that you hope.
“luckily daddy knows just what you like, hm? aren’t you glad?” he says, and you nod furiously, scared he’s going to stop if you don’t respond. but he’s not looking up at you, so just to be sure, you croak out a desperate: “yes!”
he ruffles your hair affectionately at the words, looking at you with a loving smile while he speeds up your finger. he watches you closely as your face crumples, as your cunt clenches around his fingers, signaling you’re so, so close, so naturally, he pulls his fingers out.
he shushes your whines quickly, half laughing at your desperation.
“‘s okay, ‘s okay, shh,” he says softly, rubbing the palm of his hand over your thigh soothingly, “just want my baby to come on my tongue, hm?” despite his attempts to calm you, you whine in protest, shaking your head no.
“want to come on your cock,” you say. chan coos.
“oh, of course you want to come on my cock,” he says, acting as if he’s considering whether he should let you come on your cock, despite the fact he never denies his baby anything. your watery eyes looking into his are enough to break him.
“oh yeah? that fucking look. again? you want it really badly, don’t you baby?” the words border on aggressive, but he loves you too much to genuinely be mad at you. “okay. okay, baby, okay. you get to come on daddy’s cock,” he says, but he moves his head to your cunt instead. you splutter.
“what are you– i thought you–” you start, but you can’t really finish the sentence, because chan hums, the vibration sending shivers up your spine. he licks a stripe up your cunt.
“just,” he starts, and you feel a wetness that isn’t yours trickling onto your folds, “lubing you up.”
you start to feel dizzy when you realize what he’s doing, his spit running along your cunt. he moves away in order to unzip his pants and free his raging hard-on from his boxers. you stare at it, almost amazed; you had never seen it quite so red and eager. chan smiles at your gaze.
“mhm, that’s all you,” he says, grabbing your hands to place them on his cock, hissing in response, “daddy’s so hard for you.”
he wastes no time pushing your back on the sheets, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed to prop up under your hips. in full chan-style, he starts by kissing you about everywhere, running his tongue on your neck, but you’re far too impatient and worked up to endure that for long.
“channie…” you whine softly, and chan nods at the remark, understanding. he pushes the just tip in; he’s big, big enough to have your cunt clenching and chan groaning in response.
“jesus christ, you’re so fucking tight for me, aren’t you? don’t i make you feel so good?” and you can barely nod frantically, your hips bucking up unwillingly to make the rest of him enter you faster. “you make me feel so fucking good too, baby, holy shit,” the desperation bleeds out of his words.
as soon as he’s fully inside, he’s moving with small yet eager thrust, not wanting to go all in, not wanting to hurt you yet, but you want nothing less, and your whines and whimpers declare that. chan seems to know you from the inside out, picking up the sounds and moving his hips faster, watching your body writhe on the bed.
quite frankly, you feel on the verge of tears, it feels so fucking good. your hands find chan’s back, scratching desperate at it as you feel your orgasm approaching. chan feels the clench of your cunt on his cock and moans.
“you close baby? i’m too, i’m too, fuck.”
it’s a perfect graph going from high to higher, yet your orgasm still feels like it comes out of the blue. almost perfectly in sync, you feel chan coming inside of you, the stickiness of his cum overwhelming your cunt.
he pulls out carefully, scooping the dripping cum from your thighs and plunging them back into your cunt before laying beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around you, pressing feverish kisses onto your forehead.
“that was good, baby? good?” your eyes feel heavy, drooping closed, but chan urges further. “you gotta talk to me, baby.” you wrap your legs around his waist.
“of course that was good dummy,” you whisper, voice hoarse. chan sighs a hold breath.
“okay. okay, good. now let’s get us cleaned up, hm? gonna wash those pretty locks for you,” he says, and you giggly lovingly when he lifts you from the bed, nuzzling the top of your head as he walks to the bathroom.
JISUNG at MUSIC CORE (231111)
