The skz members as your perverted older foster brothers who have a strange obsession with sharing their favorite late night hobby -taking turns fucking you until your body is trembling and your lil brain can only revolve around each of them the next dayā¦.
ā¦idk may be I could write abt it ā¦who knows š - Mrs. Bahng
[ MESSAGE ] - the āYOUā series is now complete! Give me your honest feedback or your afterthoughts on the story! Iām all ears and Iām curious how you all felt about such an intense fic. - Mrs. Bahng.
I donāt know what it is, but I love Chan with his shorter hair. Not that I didnāt like his long hair, but short hair Chan in blonde wooooooow
all I need is reader to react to his new hair for the first time
a/n: came up with this on the spot. hope it meets your expectations.
Chris texts you the minute heās inside his hotel room. Itās a quick message, direct, and void of any affectionate details.
Iām hereā¦|
He waits, patient as ever as he watches the typing dots appear on your end, and allowing his shoulders to relax when you finally reply.
Come over thenā¦|
Thatās all you say, tossing your phone aside into the empty space beside your head while you sprawl out over the plush floor rug in your living room, slowly bringing the blunt still burning between your fingers back up to your glossed lips. You inhale a drag for as long as your chest can expand, letting the smoke weigh your body down before blowing it from your nose, and humming when the air around you fogs up.
You needed this. You needed him.
You knew it and he assumed it.
For three months youād been pushed, pulled, and dragged through life like a rag doll. Stress from family, responsibilities from work, and lack of time for yourself kept you on edge.
And to top it all off Chris hadnāt texted or called you since the last time heād been in the city.
You tried not to hold it against him, knowing full well that his career as an idol was a priority your relationship with him would never be, and coming to terms with that fact each time you glanced at the paper heād left on your nightstand for you to sign the morning after your first fling with him.
[OFFICIAL COPY OF NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT]
The paper was hard to ignore, a reminder of what Chris expected of you, and a stark stain on your personal feelings. You were simply a stop on his way to another place and as damming as that seemedā¦
You took what you could get from the situation.
A good fuck.
A good high.
A good reset.
You knew your place in his life and he knew his in yours. That was all there was to it and so despite your longing for the impossible you dowsed yourself with a familiar drug each and every time he waltzed back into your life.
It became a routine and you accepted it.
Chris stared at your text, biting his bottom lip as his thoughts simmered with anticipation, and shaking his head when they wandered a little too close to the genuine attachment he felt towards you. He had too much to worry about, too many people to keep track of, and far too many options at his disposal.
Settling wasnāt in the cards and searching for his other half certainly wasnāt a pressing issue.
2 AM came quicker than Chris realized. The members split ways like clockwork after the concert ended. Some went straight to eat and sleep while others decided that the hotel gym needed to be occupied for a few hours.
Chris declined both choices, swiftly diverting Changbinās suggestion of working out together with a simple smile and shake of his head, āMaybe tomorrow night. Iām gonna step out for a few hours.ā
He turned and headed for the hotel stairwell before Changbin could utter another word.
Chris took the walk to your place in brisk strides, crossing streets at a habitual pace, and weaving his way up through your apartment buildingsā rundown stairway quicker than the last time he was there. He only slowed his steps when your next door neighbor absently glanced at him before disappearing into their own creaky unit.
You remained on the floor rug, comfortable against the soft faux fur, and sinking further into the heavy high wrapping its warm fingers around your mind. The blunt sizzled between your fingers, specs of ash dusting the empty candy container you ripped open to eat an hour ago, and the smell of weed engulfing your apartment with an unforgiving thickness.
A slow smile took over your lips, steady, and coy as you picked up on the sound of Chrisā heavy footsteps slowly treading towards your door at the end of the hallway. A loud creak echoed through the floorboards when he stopped and before you could control the somber laugh that tickled your throat your body instinctively raised from the floor.
Chris took a breath, not at all alarmed by the scent of weed cascading from your front door, and even less shocked to hear your bubbly laughter echo behind it. In an instant the crotch area of his sweats felt mildly tighter but it paled in comparison to the tense of his jaw when you finally stumbled to the door and opened it for him to step through.
There you stood; cropped long sleeved black sweater, a pair of white lace panties adorned with small black bows resting high on your hips, and a set of matching white thigh high socks eased up your legs.
Chris swallows hard, eyes shamelessly drifting from your face to trace your body, and he mind already fogging up with the mix of thoughts he planned to bring to life and the potent drug you were feeding into the air.
āHi Christopherā¦ā you cooed his name quietly, lashes lowered as you waltzed backwards into your apartment, blunt raising to your lips with practiced ease while you watched him shut the door with an carefulness that showed just how many times heād been in your company.
He took his time following you, watching your bright and hazy gaze rake over him with blatant appraisal, smiling softly when you let out a little giggle the closer he got to you.
āLike what you see, sweetheart?..ā
He tongues his cheek, holding back a grin when you dramatically hum before taking another hit of your blunt just to exhale the smoke through the same pouty lips he craved to taste. Chris shook his head when your pretentious gesture proceeded an equally pretentious comment.
āI dunno daddyā¦take off that hat and weāll see..ā
You look him up and down, brow raised expectantly, and your tongue taking a quick pass over your mouth.
He scoffs, eyes rolling playfully, but his posture relaxing against the back of your worn couch.
āAsk me the right way,ā Chris flattens his tone, enjoying your banter, but unable to shake his need to dictate your attitude .
He taught you better manners than that.
You bite your lip, hiding a smile before taking a step closer to him, leaning in close enough that the tip of his nose brushes against your own. āPlease..ā
āPlease what?ā He insists in a low breath, eyes fixed on the innocent expression consuming your features, and tensing when you soften your eyes into a doe like stare.
āPlease, daddyā¦ā you whisper, voice feather light, and intentions utterly clear.
Chris gives in, one hand raising to strip his black cap off while the other ruffles through the short blonde hair underneath, and without a second thought he discards the cap on the couch cushion next to your silver rolling tray.
You stare.
Shameless and entranced by the sight you see.
His hair is still styled from performing, spiked at the ends, and swept over his forehead. He had yet to wipe his makeup off either but something in your mind reassured you itād be gone in the morning.
āFuckā¦ā you mutter in astonishment, mouth watering as you stare at him, and your free hand gingerly combing through his soft tresses in one motion. Chris feels his heart stutter at your immediate infatuation with him, keening into your touch as your fingers trace down the back of his neck, and stifling a groan in his throat when you trail your touch along his jawline.
You stop at his chin, eyes heavy, and your body inching closer towards his.
āTake a hit with me..ā
Itās a statement. One you donāt elaborate on and an offer Chris accepts with a slow nod.
āGive it to me then.ā
You smirk, bringing the blunt to your lips, and locking your stare on him as you inhale a solid drag before standing on your tip toes to gently press your mouth to his.
Chris steadied himself, chest relaxing as you parted your lips against his own, consciously inhaling the soft exhale of smoke you pass onto him. He catches the high, swimming in the pure heat racing through his nerves, and reveling in its aftershock.
āFuck I missed youā¦ā he mumbles in ecstasy.
You blink slowly, nearly falling for the sincerity in his voice as he says it, but your mind is stalled from overthinking when he slips the rolled vice from your fingertips to take a hit for himself.
You pout, āThief.ā
Chris eyes you as he exhales his drag, brown irises dilating with every second that passes, āAddict..ā
His response doesnāt offend you, merely earning him a soft laugh before you make a reach for your stolen weed, but heās quicker than your swayed motion.
Chris drops the blunt on your rolling tray, hands rights at your hips as he presses his lips to yours with a directness that instinctively brings a moan from your chest, staggering you backwards into the nearest wall.
A frame falls from the wall when your back hits it but the sound is wholly ignored as his tongue sweeps past your lips and into your willing mouth. He groans, feeling your tongue dance with his, and pressing his frame into the warmth of your body. You held him there, hands running up and through his short blonde strands with intentional scratches along his scalp, and your legs naturally following the lead of his hands as they guide you to wrap around his waist.
Your chest burns for oxygen but you push past the urge to pull away from him, only giving in when he draws his head back to groan, and panting quietly as he lowers his forehead to press against yours.
His eyes flit to the space between your legs and you smile lazily at the silent request.
You speak before he has the chance to ask, feeling suitably high and comfortably honest.
āTake what you came forā¦ā
a/n: Iām making a pt 2 for but was this enough for you guys lol?
Men get turned on by arguing SO MUCH and I have no idea why?!?! My friend told me about the time her boyfriend found out she vapes and her and her boyfriend got into a huge fight then afterwards he was like: ok I have a massive boner right now
Why are men like this?
But I wouldn't mind it with Chris
[ BACK TALK ] - B. C.
+ masterlists +
pairing: b. chan x f. gf reader
summary: after/during an argument
warnings: smut drabble
a/n: This sounds like smth Chris is def into.
Arguing with Chan starts off as passive aggressive. He says something you donāt particularly agree with and despite him promptly apologizing you hold onto it. Chan wonāt admit it but knowing you hold a grudge against him is irritating in a way that nothing else can compare to.
Arguing with Chan can get intense and be dragged on for days. Long silences between short conversations. Few texts and even fewer calls. Itās even worse when he stays in the studio far longer than usual or decides that going to the gym is better than sitting idle in your space. Thereās times he enjoys watching you stomp or walk away from him when he enters a room youāre in. Then thereās other times he wants to drag you back towards him without a second thought and make you endure his presence -despite your stubborn nature- just for the hell of it.
His cock twitches either way.
You storm off huffing and heās hard an instant. You donāt spare him a glance like heāll disappear if you ignore him long enough and heās still imagining that pouty face of yours stained with tears while he fucks the sense back into you. Yet, his patience remains -a rare occurrence that annoys you more than anything else.
Arguing with Chan leads to you being spiteful, mouthy, and utterly bratty. At first he lets you get away with it, rolling his brown eyes when you make a comment, or scoffing when you brush past him and mumble something about him being in your way. Yet, thereās only so much Chan can take until his patience wears thin ands it completely gone by the time you get a little too comfortable talking to him a certain way.
āI could care fucking less if you stay out late but at least pick up your fucking gym clothes before you leave Chrisā¦ā
Thatās the voice message you send him an hour after he leaves for the studio.
Your tone bites at his ears and the way you scoff his name sends a thrill down his spine.
He has to pause. Has to think.
Chan sits in silence in for a moment.
Contemplating.
His jaw is tight, eyes trained on your contact information, and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he considers if he should respond to you
He decides not to.
Arguing with Chan ends one of two ways and both arenāt always options left up to you to pick from. He could be bitter, bold, and direct. Strict if the situation prescribed it. On the other hand his resolutions could be swift, amicable, and kind. Unfortunately, youād bypassed the latter choice and Chan had come to conclusion that youād meant to do so from the start. So, when he slammed your apartment door shut, dropped his bag on the living room couch, and stalked through the hall to your bedroom where he heard the shower running you werenāt given the opportunity to protest his expected intrusion.
You were peeling off your sleepwear, ready to shower after a lazy day, and needing to unwind from the annoyance that clung to you since sending him the infamous voice message. The sound of the front door slamming shut went over your head, drowned out by the music you played on your phone, and a passive indication that he was back home.
Chan said nothing as you carried on testing the water, eyeing your form from the back as you bent over to change the temperature of the water, moving closer when you stood straight again.
Arguing with Chan was an adrenaline rush to say the least. He isnāt rash or mean often but he can be impulsive and inherently rough. Itās not the sudden grip of his hand around the nape of your neck that makes you jump and yelp in surprise but rather how forcefully he pushed you up against the nearest wall. āGet the fuck off of me, Chris!ā You spat the words out half heartedly, attempting to wriggle out of his hold, but failing miserably as he fisted a handful of your hair and pressed your cheek to the cold tile.
You gritted your teeth, glaring at him as he lowered his head to be eye level with you all the while his other hand snaked down your front to settle between your thighs.
You we were wet, coating his wandering fingers with slick you couldnāt pretend wasnāt there, and Chan took advantage of it.
āRepeat it.ā He mumbled through a soft smirk, drinking in the way you shivered while his pointer and middle finger played with your entrance, ā Straight to my face since you were so bold to yell at me over the phoneā¦ā
You swallowed hard, knowing full well Chan wouldnāt let you recite a single word you said in that voice message even if you tried, and despite your anger -fear of his retaliation flooded your system.
āChris.. Iām s-sorryā¦!ā You panted, trying not to tear up as he heavy chest kept you pinned against the wall.
āToo late for that donāt you think?ā¦ā
You shut your eyes tight, sniffling as he pressed his lips to your ear and exhaled a slow and warm breath against the shell of it, āRepeat itā¦one more timeā¦.just for me.ā
You keened, feeling his erection pressing at your ass through his black sweats, accepting the consequences of your actions with a stifled whine of defeat. āOkayā¦ā you whisper, āā¦you win.ā
Arguing with Chan never ends when you concede or admit defeat. Itās a slow decent into tension. He makes sure his point is made and comes across clear as crystal. A slap across your face, then another, and a third just before he places a deliberate kiss to your pouting lips. You find yourself on the floor, weight on your knees, and his cock slipping into your mouth with a slow and familiar ease. āIsnāt that better, baby?ā He groans quietly, smile evident as he weaves a hand through your hair and holds your head steady while his hips buck towards your face at an unrelenting pace. āFuckā¦.that pretty mouth of yours is good something after allā¦ā Chan laughs between moans, reveling in the helpless state youāre in while he abuses your throat with little regard for your gagged breaths and choked whines. āCāmon babyā¦ā he taunts quietly, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head at you, āYell at me nowā¦ā
He doesnāt stop until your eyes roll with exhaustion, resorting to holding your head back as he jerks himself off to the dazed and teary eyed expression you give him, and rewarding your drained attitude with a heavy load of cum painting your face.
Chan watches it drip down your chin, neck, and flow past the space between your breasts. You lick what you can from your lips, legs involuntarily shaking with need as the taste of him seeps down your raw throat, cunt throbbing at the implication of him using you to relieve the stress youād put onto him.
Arguing with Chan is indeed a tricky but indulgent hobby anyone should experience from time to timeā¦
a/n: raise your hand if you would purposely piss Chris off just so he could fuck the shit out of you. Iāll go first! - Mrs. Bahng.
warnings: non-con smut, violence, angst, age gap, ddlg implied.
a/n: finishing this.
Fear had become a familiar friend to you in the time youād spent with Chan.
Youād endured so much of it that your mind had begun to wander into immunity. A sense of normalcy surrounded your thoughts, actions, even the few conversations you had with him.
Chan could feel it.
That slow decent of your sanity into what he could only imagine was acceptance.
Even while you kicked and screamed as he dragged you down the cold hallway floor and back to the very room heād limited your existence to an air of defeat clung to you.
You fought your little heart out despite the tears streaming down your face. Chan couldnāt deny his adoration for your useless efforts to pry your hair free from his grip or the ear splitting screams you belted out as he picked your struggling form up from the floor.
You were a fighter. A stubborn and vindictive one too.
Berating him, wailing, crying, slapping, and even scratching at him.
Chan took on every lashing from you as if he was merely waiting for a child to finish their tantrum.
You couldnāt see straight, eyes blurry with tears, and your chest burning from panicked breathing. A yelp left your lips as he tossed your body over one of his shoulders, his left hand quick to hold your hands in a tight clasp behind your back while his right shoved the bedroom door shut with a distinct āthudā
He didnāt bother to lock itā¦
Your stomach dropped the instant you heard the door slam shut. Color drained straight from your skin and your labored breaths fell into shallow hiccups of anxiety.
Chan said nothing, face stoic as he took steady steps towards your white iron wrought daybed, remaining eerily calm as he dropped your gradually trembling body onto it. The feather soft mattress compressed and sank as your back landed on it. You exhaled sharply, glad to be free, but still struggling to register sudden movements. It was impossible to ignore t your instincts then. You backed away from him, hugging your knees to your chest for a semblance of protection, and glaring up at him through watery eyes.
āYouāre a fucking monsterā¦ā you spat the words like venom. You cursed him, voice shaking and your eyes dilated with potent vulnerability.
That was all you could do.
All you could fathom using against him.
Harsh words and resistance at every turn.
Chan offered no implicit reaction, expression, or response. He stood before you -silent and still. His brown eyes were direct, dark like piles of coal, and particularly steady.
You swallowed hard.
Youād see him angry before, felt the sting of his hand across your face or your ass when he felt displeased or ignored. The embodiment of his irratation didnāt happen often but when it did Chan made it known in an instant.
You waited for the harsh slap, eyes never leaving his as you counted the seconds until his open palm collided with your flushed cheek, but the forceful gesture never came.
Silence.
It hung in the air for longer than you anticipated and the absence of emotion etched onto his face did not calm your unease.
Your nails dug into the skin of your legs, hugging your knees tighter as thoughts ran rampant in your scattered mind.
Was this it?
Had you pushed him too far?
Would your life end right here?
Was your chance at escaping this nightmare slipping away?
Your gaze traveled over to the door -shut firmly but still unlocked. You gulped, longing to rush over, and rip it open. Maybe then youād find someone, find help, or at the very least leave the sick fantasy Chan had conjured up for the both of you.
The pace of your heart slowed at the thought of leaving, as if a part of you hesitated to be free of him, and the implication sent a chill up your spine.
This life.
This man.
This obsession he had with you.
It was beginning to infect you too, like an all consuming disease, and he knew it.
Heād known far longer than you had.
Your gaze slowly shifted back towards Chan, watching as he lowered himself to sit in the empty space to your left, and not daring to leave his face as he leaned in close to yours.
Inches.
He left inches between you.
You breathed and he drowned it out with his own soft hum of approval.
You measured and he studied.
You waited and he planned.
Strands of his blonde hair tickled your flushed cheeks, and his cologne seeped into your nose in steady wafts, but his voice was the only thing that startled you.
āYou wanna leave me, baby?..ā
His question was plain, tone soft, and yet an edge of displeasure clung to it. Chanās eyes fell from yours, as if he was wounded and the only cure was a glance at your parted and gently trembling lips.
You immediately closed your mouth, frozen with anxiety and another emotion you couldnāt quite name as your stomach flipped. He blinked, head dipping to try and catch your avoidant gaze, and then he uttered the question again.
āYou wanna leave me?..ā he whispered, raising a hand to gently cup your chin and guide your face back towards his.
You flinched, resistant to obey his gesture, but left with little choice as he hardened his grip on your jaw and pulled your gaze back to him.
There it is.
The measured aggression you knew he compressed at every inconvenience.
You learned two things quicker than most assumed about him.
1). He has a temper.
2). He hates brats with a passion.
You seemed to walk a thin line between both facts -always testing his patented by never fully learning the lessons he so graciously provided you.
Your stomach twisted in knots seeing the disappointment brewing behind his eyes.
That was never a good sign for youā¦
Yet, his next words didnāt match a single ounce of the displeasure in his stare.
āThen leaveā¦ Iāll give you one chance,ā he smiled softly, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.
āJust one,ā he repeats in a singular breath.
Your heart flutters despite the weary fog clouding your mind hearing his offer. There was a catchā¦
There was always a catch with Chan.
He leaned away, letting your face go, and glancing at the watch around his wrist before speaking again.
āIāll give you 90 seconds to make it out of hereā¦ ā
You blinked, staring at him and then the unlocked door. āAndā¦.and if donāt make it out in timeā¦?ā
Chan chuckled quietly, eyes steady on you as he shrugged his taut shoulders, āYouāll get exactly what you deserve then.. Simple.ā
You looked back at him, chest heavy as you studied his nonchalant expression, and mind recalling with the possibilities of what his response meant.
He let a moment of silence pass, glancing at his watch one more time before a single word danced off his tongue and into the stale air in the room.
āGo.ā
You moved before your mind could pick up on the devilish smile that crossed Chanās face. Your body lunged from the bed, feet stumbling a bit over the plush pink floor rug that had fading spots of blood stains, but you pushed onward with the resilience of a wounded animal keen for a quick escape. In seconds you reached out for the door handle. Time seemed to move slower as you wrenched it open, your rapid steps and loud sobbing filling the hallway as you bounded through it towards his apartment door, and your chest heaving with desperation as you neared the one obstacle preventing your freedom.
Chan watched.
His posture relaxed, face plain, and his mind undoubtedly made up as he observed your frantic attempt to escape him.
Chan counted.
Glancing at his watch every twenty seconds, taking his time following your trail with his own deliberately slow steps, and not making a single comment as he witnessed you rushing to the apartment door.
You tried to rip it open, pulling at the locked door handle with all your might, but it wouldnāt give.
You became erratic; banging and screaming at the top of your lungsā¦
Hoping someone -anyone- would hear your cries for help.
Chan glanced at his watch, smiling softly to himself as he watched the last 10 seconds of your opportunity slip away like silk in the wind.
You refused to give up, fully aware he was standing behind you, but your reluctance to admit defeat kept your screams going.
He only spoke when you sank to the ground, feeling no remorse as you let hot tear roll down your face as he stared down at you with a stare so loving that it made you sick.
āTimes upā¦ā
He exhaled heavily -a sound that stemmed from a low laugh to a confident huff.
You paled, eyes blown wide as he knelt down to be eye level with you, and your pulse racing when his thumb gently brushed over your trembling lips.
āTell me you understand now.ā His smile grew, intended to reach his eyes, but doing nothing to soften the rage hidden in them.
You shook your head slowly, fighting back more tears as you watched his smile drop completely.
āAlright thenā¦.ā
His voice was settled, tone decisive, and his punctuation permanent.
Before you could comprehend his intentions Chan gripped both of your ankles in each of his hands. āNo!ā You yelped, voice barely coming through your tired throat as he began to forcefully drag you through foyer and back down the dark hallway.
You reached for anything you could hold onto.
A barstool that crashed to the ground.
A floor lamp the flickered and shattered when it hit the floor.
Scratch marks on the corner of a wall.
You tried again and again to crawl away and each time Chan would rip you back towards him.
Yet, after all your efforts you still returned the room he trapped you within.
The sound of the door slamming shut came in a distant echo, quieter than the sound of blood rushing to your head and the quickening rate of your heart as the familiar 'click' of its locking filled the room. You stayed right where Chan tossed you, clinging to the cold floor and staring at it without the slightest courage to lift your head and look him in the face.
Chan took a long breath, smiling, on the brink of laughing under an exasperated sigh. His eyes bared down on you, waiting for you to crawl away, to give him more trouble and a reason to further the punishment he was no longer shying away from giving you.
"There's only so much I can take, little one..." he sighed lowly, back leaning against the locked door as he stared down at you through lowered lashes with a half smile. "I take away all your troubles....I keep you safe...I keep you focused....l give you every single fucking thing you need to be perfect..." You breathe, hearing the ice in his eerily soft tone, feeling the weight of his slow footsteps as he pushed off the door and neared you. "I do all of it for you, sweetheart..." Chan chuckled as the sentiment left his lips, brown eyes filling with a warmth that bared cold obsessiveness as he watched you.
"And all I asked in return is that you listen to me..."
A hint of anger seeps into his uttered comment, and on instinct, you shift to crawl away, sensing his intent to grab you again.
Chan scoffs, tossing the bedroom keys somewhere in the room. He takes the three strides to confidently reach you, dragging your crawling form up from the floor with a hand in your hair. Your heart drops, feeling his grip on you, and a scream rips from your throat when he pulls you up with one tug, bracing your struggling body against his chest and slipping his free hand to clasp over your mouth.
"I do everything for you...l fucking adore you..."
You sobbed quietly, finding it more challenging to breathe for various reasons and unsure whether the burning in the pit of your stomach was terror or something far more unsettling.
Arousal...
Chan held you still, not caring that you writhed so much that the tips of your toes barely tapped against his shoes. You were helpless, utterly distraught, and yet your heart raced with concealed desperation as he muttered bittersweet threats into your ear.
"Now you wanna leave me? Run off somewhere without me there? After all I've done for my sweet little girl, she wants to leave me."
He smirks, head shaking slowly as he stares at you adoringly, and for the first time in your lifeā¦..
You let go.
Your mind goes numb and your reason dissolves.
Chan watches the acceptance seep into your teary eyes. His face softens as your body loses its tension.
Submission.
āAtta girlā¦ā he whispers, brown eyes burning so bright that the kiss he plants on your temple almost feels loving.
You donāt flinch. You donāt cry. You donāt cower from him.
Even as he releases you from his harsh grip. Even when he walks you backwards to the bed. Even when he guides you to straddle his waiting lap.
You accept it.
Drown in it completely.
The pain of seeking freedom just to lose it again ripping your resolve to shredsā¦.
Because Chan was right?
He took care of you, spoiled you, and kept you safeā¦
The very least you could do was love him back.
Enjoy what he offeredā¦
Take the pleasure from a man who only gave you painā¦.
The feeling of his lips grazing past yours, planting one suffocating kiss after another against them, and swallowing the small and tired moans that slips from your own. Chan took his time, letting his tongue delve deep into your mouth, lazily lapping at yours until drool slid down your chin.
His hands -firm and callous- cupped your face, trailed to your shoulders, and rested at your hips like they belong there from the start. He pressed the pads of his thumbs deep into the dips of your waist, inching downward to hook the hem of your satin sleeping shorts.
You shivered feeling his bare touch so gingerly trace the fabric that hid the one part of your body he hadnāt taken advantage of yet -a threat Chan never voiced explicitly.
You felt him smile, lips still pressing to yours for feverish kisses, but his thick fingers already curling at the lace hem of your shorts.
A g soft gasp escaped your lips when he tugged the clothing down, nearly taking your cotton panties with it, but the warmth of his palm sliding down your lower stomach to cup your covered entrance was far more startling than the thought of him immediately seeing you bare.
Chan huffed, fingers creating soothing patterns against your folds as he studied the timid expressions of pleasure crossing your face, āLay down for meā¦ā he mumbled.
You obeyed. He coaxed towards the bed with his leering weight, watching fall back into the soft mattress with a quiet inhale.
Chan kept his stance above you, hair falling into his eyes as he came to stand between your shaking legs, and a gentle smile crossing his face as slowly lowered himself to lean over you.
His lips ghosted over yours, warm breath fanning over you as he ran a hand through your tousled hair, and voice somber whisper in the thickening air. āSpread your legs for meā¦ā
You swallowed hard, ready to shake your head, but the hard look on his face dissolved every thought of resistance you had.
With reluctance you lifted your shivering legs, toes gently grazing the cream comforter you load on as you bent your knees up, and your hips pressing down into the bed to accommodate the new position.
Chan hummed low, approving your efforts before letting his attention travel down to the space between your legs, not paying any mind to the blood rushing to your cheeks as he admired what you had to offer.
āSuch a pretty little thingā¦ā he mused. As if your purest possession was a gift made just for him.
Because in his sick, filthy, and obsessive mind it was.
And there wasnāt a single soul who could convince him otherwise.
No one to tell him he couldnāt do as he pleased with you. No one to stop him from lowering his head between your shaking thighs. No one to deter him from blowing a slow and warm breath against your covered cunt. No one to prevent him from licking a long and tauntingly greedy swipe of his tongue over your folds. No one to rip him away from your creamy and soaking entrance as he devoured it like a man starved.
Not even your broken shouts or surprised yelps that transformed into feverish pleads of overstimulation could deter him.
Chan was desperate, sloppy, and eager. His low groans and soothing huffs mixed with your panicked cries of satisfaction. He merely took what he wanted, tongue lapping at your sensitive clit through your wet panties until he couldnāt stand the thin barrier, and mouth persistent against the tender bundle of nerves the second he pushed the fabric aside.
You struggled between lying still and writhing against his tongue. Eyes rolling and hands clutching at the duvet as he savored you.
He only relent when he felt your essence drip onto his tongue, tasting your cum in his mouth like a well deserved prize, and reveling in it with his gaze fixed on the puddle of his saliva and your juices that had pooled between your legs.
A moment of silence and heavy breathing filled the space and thought you wanted to express the thoughts consuming your mindā¦
Not a single one could describe the mix of shame and elation coursing through your veins.
Chan eyes traveled to yours, his hair messy and collecting sweat, and a smirk playing at his wet lips. You gulped, head spinning as you tried to read his expression, but you nearly drew a blank until your gaze lowered to his lower body.
Chan watched your dazed state of mind morph into frantic realization, his stare darkening as the hesitation in yours became clear, and despite the twinge of harshness building in his chest he reassured you with words meant to be comforting.
āIāll be gentle I promise,ā he cooed quietly, erection twitching at the flicker of momentary fear on your face.
Fear of a girl untrained.
Unsure of herself.
He adored that about you.
The clear terror in your eyes when he intended to teach you something new about yourself.
The horror and surprise in your expression when he pins you down underneath him, your hands held above your head with one of his, and your weak legs held open by his body weight.
The pained and satisfied mist in your gaze when the tip of his thick cock glides up and down your creamy folds.
How quickly you let out a gasp and give in to him as he pushes his member through your warm walls inch by inch.
Itās a sight to see.
A reward he doesnāt waste.
You scream at first, tearing up and struggling against his larger frame like your will to fight hadnāt died weeks ago, and yet heās still buried deep inside of you. āStop! AH CHRIS ā¦p-please!ā You shout, losing your voice to a heavy moan as he plows himself deeper and deeper into your sopping cunt. He groans, feeling you tighten around him like a vice, but he doesnāt stop, merely placing a chaste kiss on your parted lips burying his face in your neck.
Your back arches from the bed, body filled with sensations you once dreamed of feeling with a person you loved, and your mind whirling as a coil of pleasure wrapped itself tight in the pit of your fluttering stomach. Chan drove into you as if stopping would be the very death of him.
As if his possessiveness was passion.
And you fell for it.
Crumbling into a fit of delighted screams and tears as he filled you to the brim over and over. Going weak from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes as split your cunt open around his shaft with a directness that left you breathless.
At the very point you felt you couldnāt take another second of the pressure he was causing in your body he slowed his pace down -pushing harder but drawing out each thrust of his hips.
You went limp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your toes curling into the white cashmere thigh highs socks you wore.
Your panties weāre drenched, completely useless as he used his thumb to hold them out of the way while his hands gripped your hips, a passing detail he seemed not to care about as he altered your position with him.
Your lower half raised from the bed, his hands holding you steady and high enough to keep your cunt accessible to him even as he fully sat on his knees, and your nails clawing at his wrists and forearms.
Chan had you exactly where he wanted you and didnāt let you rest until his cock twitched deep in your deafening walls. You flinched as every drop of his cum flooded into you, startled gasps leaving your lips as your own high riveted up your spine, and your head lulling backwards into the mattress.
He breathed out a laugh, smiling softly as he watched you take the experience in, and only pulling away from you when your shaking form calmed down to slight shivering. He felt the warmth of his chest against yours before realizing he was planting kisses along shoulder and neck.
āNā so proud of my little girlā¦ā he mumbled passively.
You sniffled, a broken smile you couldnāt hide taking over your face as he stared down at you and brushed strands of your hair away from your sweaty and tear stained face.
The look on his face was one you wouldnāt forget even if you tried.
Sickeningly sweet and utterly devoted.
An expression he proudly wore even as he turned his attention to the camera hidden in the eyes of particular bear hidden amongst the pile of stuffed bow adorned animals he gifted you once each day.
It stared back at him.
Committing your defilement to memory just as he intended it to.
Hyunjin is the type to whisper the most nastiest things in your ear IN PUBLIC then kiss your forehead and walk away!!!
[ TONGUE TIED ] - H. H.
Iām gonna have fun with this one. Read at your own riskā¦
He was being nice at first.
Incredibly, extremely, and suspiciously too nice.
You should have known better. Especially when he showed up at the after-party in way too good of a mood, but you chalked all his soft smiles and pleasant compliments up as he rode the high of attending another spectacular Versace show.
That was your assumption until an hour ago.
It started with a simple, āYou look so pretty in that dress, babyā¦ā Just a whisper from his lips right against the shell of your ears that bloomed red at his sudden affection in such a public space -granted even if you were hidden away from most cameras and drunken attendees. Hyunjin was never so subtle about it, bowing his head to nudge against your own and letting his chin rest on your shoulder for a moment. You shivered internally, tickled by his body heat and the prickle of his freshly dyed and cut hair.
āThank you, Hyunie.ā You give a smile. A gummy honey dipped grin that makes him flash a charming smile back. āLetās get another drink yeah?ā He doesnāt wait for a proper response. Waving for another round of drinks while you sit up close to his side, enjoying his warmth in a sea of chatter and music.
One shot makes him giddy. Another makes him oddly quiet. And the third has him staring at you as if no one else is worth a glance.
Then comes those sly remarks of his that never seemed to end. The ones that stir butterflies in your chest, heat through your cheeks, and prickles of intrigue and pleasure up your spine. Hyunjin is masterful with his hushed remarks. Uncaring who may hear him mumbling sinful things in your ear again and again.
He wants them to see it, to watch you squirm and fight off the sensation his words alone give you in an instant. His tongue dips and dives with nearly insane phrases and promises.
āWhat if I fucked your right here, hm? In front of every fucking person just to show them how much of a slut you are for meā¦ā
āFuck I canāt wait to have that pretty pussy all to myself.ā
āLook at you. Canāt even keep still, hm?ā
āYouāre making me so hard right now itās starting to piss me offā¦ā
āYou'll let me have a taste, right?.ā
āDonāt tell me youāre already wet. Fuck youāre just too easy..ā
āAwe come on baby I promise one touch wonāt hurt. No one is gonna know it besides me.ā
āLetās leave or Iām going to fuck you on the car ride hotel like before but youād like that wouldnāt youā¦ā
Composure was no longer your concern. His hands found your waist as he scaled and pushed past the crowd. His eyes catching your own more than once while a smirk played on his lips. Heād won. He knew it and you knew it.
Heād keep his promises like always. Let you scratch and run your pretty nails through his shortened hair while he kneels in the back of the SUV driving you both back to his hotel. Heās thorough, consistent, hungry. You wonder which god above favors you so much to make a man so breathtaking yearn to swallow every drop of arousal you let slip from cunt onto his tongue. Heās persistent. Flicking his tongue where he pleases as long as it pleases you too. All those slick comments heād spilled into your head come rushing back in waves, sending whines from your mouth as he sues the very same mouth that spoke them to suckle on your budding clit and wet folds.
Hyunjin has no shame. Still muttering flattering profanities and aching praises.
āMissed her so muchā¦.I always do,ā he muses silently beneath your soft and muffled moans, gazing at your fluttering hole with a grace that seems never ending -as if he prides himself in making it so weak and needy with a flick of his tongue.
Your heart stops when he blows a cool breath on your bundle of nerves, planting a long kiss to it right after and diving right back in to lap at dribble of cum collecting at your entrance.
Heās a fiend.
A smooth talker with an addiction.
Hyunjin takes pride in it and you have little to know choice but to accept it.
Because why would you ever settle for a man who doesnāt stick to his word -even the filthiest kind?
Smth sweet and short cause why not. - š¤ Mrs. Bahng
Thinking about a bf that loves how much of a slut his girl is.
Heās silently waiting for her to give him those sweet baby doll eyes when she wants a little taste of him.
Heās pondering all the ways he could drain her, fuck her, love her, and treat her all the time.
Heās throbbing at the thought of how wet she is just sitting next to him. How easily sheāll let him slip a hand between her thighs. How long sheāll hold out from fidgeting and bucking her hips for a little more of his tender touches. How well her folds spread along his fingers and the slick that pours out when he sinks them into her tight hole for a split second of warmth.
Heās focused on filling and stretching her pretty cunt. Addicted to making it creamy and sensitive in the bliss of a barely private moment. And all because his sweet little girl couldnāt wait until they got home.
Heās stretching her with two, three, maybe even four thick fingers. Feeling her legs shake and her cunt tighten. His mouth waters and his pants stretch tight like the muscle of his jaw as he tries to hide a coy smile. Proud of his little slut. Proud of his needy baby. Proud to be feeding her stupidly high sex drive.
Because whatever his baby wants she gets.
Heās so so so kind. So patient. So calm. While she whines and spreads her legs a bit more, whispering pleads in his ear for him to let her cum all over his hand, but he lets her beg for it until those whispers turn to stupid fuckable whines.
Sometimes a little slut needs to cry for a prize and heāll make her do it every time.
Because thatās just how he is and how he likes itā¦
honestly you don't deserve hate I don't even know what you did. Just know that your not an idiot, the people are for hating on someone they don't even know. Stay strong <3
Thank you āgives you a hugā not gonna let those bitches down play or hate on me anymore. I'm back to give the masses what they want - š¤ Mrs. Bahng
Hiii when will you release the 3rd episode of the 'You' (Bangchan Stalker) series? It is a very good series. I am waiting for it with excitement and as soon as possible pleaseee ššā¤ļøšš¼
Preview is out now. Sorry I was on hiatus for a while - š¤ Mrs. Bahng
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