I LOVE stray kids and LOVE writing and kinda am always horny, so... that's why I am here, bc I think some of you really understand me. every ff here will contain at least a little bit of smut, so minors do not interact!
inbox and dms are open. down for friends and fangirling together โก.
this is a safe space โก, i hope you feel like staying.
requests are currently closed!!!
ALSO english is not my first language so be patient if thereโs any grammar mistakes, k? :)
contains: +18, idol!chan, backstage pass, "come here" chan, praise, reader is his babygirl, slowww burn, teasing af, dom/sub energy shift, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), grinding, riding, unprotected sex (don't, pls), overstimulation (f rec.), size kink
authors note: english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in advance +++ requests are open! :)
โ๏ฝกยฐโฉ
summary: You were just another fan. One among many. You were always at the front. Always perfectly put together. And now, for the first time, wearing a Wolfchan pin. And Chan? Chan noticed. He always notices. That night, with the stage lights flashing and his gaze locking on you in the crowd, you knew: He was playing with you. And you? You were ready to play back.
!!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!
โ๏ฝกยฐโฉ
You didnโt go to every concert. Justโฆ enough of them.
Enough that the boys had started to recognize your face. Enough that you didnโt really have to scream or wave for their attention anymore, they just knew you were there.
You always stood close, always made sure you got there early enough to be in their line of sight. You dressed up for it. Full face, perfect hair, outfits that took effort. You liked feeling put together, like you belonged in a crowd that was watching, like you might just catch someone watching you back.
And maybe you had. Because lately? Lately they were looking. Really looking. They noticed. But Chan? He noticed differently.
Chan had thisโฆ way. This whole thing he did when he was looking at someone. Like he was reading them. Like he could crack a person open just by holding eye contact a second too long. He made it feel personal, even in a crowd of thousands.
You werenโt wearing anything new, really. Same makeup, same lashes, same signature lipstick. It was cute, but not groundbreaking. No... the only thing different tonight was the pin. Small, clipped to the strap of your shirt: a little Wolfchan SKZOO plush pin. Just a nod, just something fun. Not that you had a bias or anything, you loved all of them, and you werenโt lying when you said that.
And Chan?
Chan fucking noticed.
You didnโt catch it at first. You were busy dancing, singing, caught in the high of it all. But thenโฆ you looked up. And he was staring. Dead at you. No smile, no crowd-pleaser expression, just a tilt of the head, and those sharp eyes locked on the pin like it meant something.
And then... then he smirked. A tiny twitch of his mouth. Private. Subtle. But you felt it.
And you shouldnโt have, but your stomach flipped.
Why did he notice? Out of all things, out of all people, why did he look at a pin and suddenly see you?
โ
You were already nervous before you even left the house for this concert.
Two days, thatโs all it had been. But you hadnโt stopped thinking about it. The way he looked at you. The smirk.
You told yourself it was nothing. You werenโt that kind of fan. You werenโt delusional. You werenโt reading into it. But now, standing here again, same spot, same energy, same beating in your chest, you wondered if maybeโฆ just maybe, you were right.
Tonight, you didnโt do anything different. Same full face, same energy. Same love for all of them. But the pin? You wore it again. Becauseโฆ how could you not?
The show goes on like always, flawless vocals, blinding lights, sweat and glitter and power. Youโre in it, screaming lyrics, jumping with the beat. But somewhere inside, youโre waiting. Hoping.
And then, it happens.
During the talk break, the boys are on stage. Chanโs holding the mic, towel slung around his neck, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. He laughs at something Jisung says, but then, unprompted, he starts talking. โYou knowโฆโ he says, voice smooth but a little distracted, like his thoughts are elsewhere. โWeโve done a lot of shows lately. Different cities. Different stages.โ
He looks out over the crowd. Not at you, not even close. But still, something about the way he pauses makes your skin spark.
โBut itโs kinda crazy. I keep seeing familiar faces. People who show up again and againโฆ makes me feel lucky, yโknow?โ
The crowd cheers. It sounds like white noise in your ears. And then, his voice drops just a little.
โEspecially the ones who wear Wolfchan pins.โ
A beat.
โUgh. So cute.โ
Chan laughs, smiling with his eyes. He definitely doesnโt look at you. But the crowd erupts. Screaming. Laughing. Some girls flash their pins. Some tease each other. The moment moves on.
But for you?
Your heart has completely stopped.
Because somehow, you knew. You knew he meant you.
And suddenly the lights feel hotter, your hands a little shakier. You look up, and just for half a second, half a breath, his eyes flick your way.
And then heโs gone again.
The concert doesnโt slow down after that moment, it only gets hotter, louder, more chaotic. But for you, everything is muffled around the edges.
Because now you know. He saw you. Really saw you.
You try to keep cool, try to stay in it, singing, dancing, smiling like your heart isnโt climbing out of your chest. But the moment replays in your head over and over again: Especially the ones who wear Wolfchan pins. Ugh. So cute.
He said it like a throwaway line. But it wasn't.
And now, halfway through another song, he's moving across the stage, close to your section. Heโs hyped, bouncing with the beat, sweat glistening on his collarbone, and you're ready to stay chill, keep your hands down, your expression calm...
Except.
He glances toward your row.
Just for a second.
And suddenly, you canโt help yourself.
You catch his eyes, quick, electric, and without thinking, you do it. That little two-finger move: from your own eyes to him. A silent โIโm watching you.โ A "donโt think I didnโt catch what you did." A tease.
And the second he sees it, he stops walking. Dead in his tracks. He's... smiling.
His grin spreads slow, devastating. Dangerous. Then he points. Directly at you. Not casually, not passively, but with intention. And then? He lifts that same hand and points to the floor in front of him.
Like: "Yeah. You. Come here."
The world disappears. You feel it in your spine, in your fingertips, in the burn rising up your neck. You canโt breathe. But you keep your posture. You donโt step forward. You donโt scream or wave.
You just smile, tight, smug, and say it low under your breath, knowing damn well thereโs no way he could hear you over the noise:
โDonโt you dare me.โ
But heโs still watching you.
And somehow, somehow, you know he read your lips. Because his eyes drop. Right to your mouth.
And then he mouths back, slowly, making sure you'd understand what he's saying:
โOh, I do.โ
โ
The final bow is chaos. Confetti in the air, lights pulsing, the crowdโs screaming so loud it feels like thunder inside your bones. The boys wave, laugh, say their final thanks, and Chan?
Chan doesnโt look your way again.
Not even once.
And that, somehow, makes it worse. Or better. Orโฆ whatever this thing crawling under your skin is.
You stay in your spot even as the crowd starts shifting, still coming down from the high, wondering if you imagined it all. The smirk. The stare. The Oh, I do.
You almost decide to leave. But then.
A hand taps your shoulder, light, but deliberate. You turn, and thereโs a staff member standing there. Lanyard around her neck, black earpiece in her ear.
She leans in. โThis is for you,โ she says, voice just loud enough to cut through the buzz. She slips something into your hand and disappears before you can ask a single thing.
You look down.
Itโs a small black envelope. No writing. Just sealed. Heavy in your hand like it knows something you donโt.
Your fingers shake slightly as you break the seal.
Inside: a single piece of paper.
โCome backstage. Iโll be waiting. - CB97โ
You donโt remember how you get to the hallway. You just follow where youโre led, escorted through security, past double doors, into quieter corridors.
You were told to wait.
โJust a few minutes,โ the staffer had said, smile polite but unreadable. โHeโs just wrapping up some press stuff. Weโll let you know.โ
So now youโre alone, backstage, but not with him. You sit on a low bench in the hallway, staring at the ground, heart hammering like itโs trying to break through your chest.
You havenโt even had time to process.
He invited you. You are backstage. For him.
Itโs not like you ever thought he didnโt see you. The eye contact, the teasing, the way he pointed at the floor like he owned the goddamn world, but still, sitting here now, in the silence, it feels too big. Too unreal.
Your phone buzzes in your lap. You glance down.
Bubble.
From Chan.
You open it with a shaky thumb.
thank you guys so much for tonight! we really felt the love out there. itโs crazy seeing familiar faces againโฆ you guys always show up looking so good tho.
Your stomach tightens.
Another message pops up almost immediately.
especially the ones wearing wolfchan pins! how do u expect me to resist when my babygirls show up like that?
You blink.
Stare.
Read it again.
And then again.
Babygirls.
Was Chanโฆ was he... calling youโฆ his babygirl?
You scroll up, looking for context, for anything that would make this more general. But the way itโs written, soft, teasing, casually possessive, like he meant it for someone specific.
You press your thighs together. Suddenly, youโre too hot. Your pulse is rushing in your ears. Your phone buzzes again, a different notification this time.
You look up.
The same staff member is back, smiling gently. โHeโs ready for you now,โ she says. โLetโs go?โ
You donโt answer right away. Because all you can think is:
He invited you backstage.
He pointed at you in front of everyone.
He called you babygirl.
And now youโre going to him.
What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening.
โ
The door closes behind you with a soft click.
And just like that, youโre alone with him.
Chanโs sitting on the couch, legs spread, damp hair pushed back, black tee clinging to him like sin. A towel hangs loose around his neck, and there's still a flush in his cheeks from the stage. He looks tired. Lit. Alive.
But the moment he sees you, he straightens. Subtle, like a reflex. His lips curl. That smirk.
โYou came.โ
You shrug, trying to play it cooler than your heartbeat allows.
โYou dared me.โ
He laughs softly, nodding once, gaze still locked on yours.
โYeah, I did.โ
You step further inside, heart pounding, body high on adrenaline and something else entirely, something heavier, slower. His eyes follow you, dragging slow, like he's taking his time now that you're finally in reach. You donโt sit. You stand your ground.
He watches, waiting for something, maybe a word, maybe a slip-up.
When you give him nothing, heโs the one who gives in.
โSo.โ He tilts his head, chin up just a little. โHow many shows now?โ
You meet his gaze. โEnough.โ
โYeah?โ He leans back against the couch, lazy. โAnd you always dress up like that?โ
Your arms fold instinctively across your chest, a defense. โJust feels right. Itโs a concert.โ
โNo, itโs our concert,โ he says, low, amused. โFeels more personal when you keep showing up.โ
Your breath catches, but you donโt flinch.
โRecognize a few people by now,โ he goes on, eyes never leaving you. โBut you? You're always front row. Alwaysโฆ ready.โ
You raise a brow. โReady for what?โ
He doesnโt answer. Just smirks again, like he knows you know.
Then his eyes flick down, to the Wolfchan pin on your shirt.
โYou wore that again.โ
You glance down like you forgot it was there. โItโs cute.โ
โItโs mine.โ
That pulls a reaction out of you, a faint smile, despite yourself.
But you donโt let it show too much. Instead:
โDoesnโt mean youโre my bias.โ
That stops him. Briefly. Just a flicker across his expression. Then he sits forward, elbows on his knees, watching you with that infuriating calm.
โOh.โ A pause. A slow, almost dangerous tilt of his head.
โIs that so?โ
You nod. โI like all of you.โ
He hums at that. Not quite agreement, not quite disbelief. Just a low sound in his throat, thoughtful. Almost like a warning.
Then...
โWow,โ he murmurs, leaning back again. โIโll ask that again by the end of the night. Weโll see.โ
Weโll see.
And just like that, the floor beneath your feet shifts. The air turns heavier. The smirk is still on his lips, but thereโs something in his eyes now, locked in, lit with intent, and it knocks the breath out of you.
The words linger. Heavy. Direct.
Your stomach flips, but you donโt let it show. You hold his gaze, steady and just a little dangerous. Then, with a soft, almost lazy shrug:
โHmm. Okay.โ A pause. A tilt of your head. โLooking forward to seeing what youโll do to win my bias title, then.โ
You swear he stops breathing for half a second. Then, his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, and he exhales a quiet laugh. Not out of amusement, out of approval.
โShit,โ he says under his breath, grinning now. โYouโre trouble.โ
The kind he likes.
His eyes drag down on you again, slower this time. Less subtle.
โGood,โ he adds, voice a little rougher now. โI like working for whatโs mine.โ
Your skin sparks at the word โ mine โ but you keep your expression carefully neutral. Let him be the one off-balance tonight.
You just smile, sweet as sin.
โGuess weโll see if youโre worth the bias spot.โ
That earns a quiet groan from him, like you hit a nerve on purpose.
โOh, babygirl,โ he murmurs, low and deep, voice full of gravel and certainty. โI am.โ
Babygirl.
Your breath catches. Your body reacts before your brain does, skin prickling, stomach twisting. That word again. That nickname. And hearing it out loud, in his voice?
It melts you instantly. You try to recover. Try to play it off.
โYou always call random girls babygirl?โ
He laughs, quiet, warm, and completely unbothered.
โOf course not,โ he says, eyes locked on yours. โOnly the ones that are mine.โ
You freeze. No witty comeback. No smug little line. Just, nothing.
He sees it. Smiles wider. Softer, this time. And then he really kills you.
โYeah,โ he says, taking one slow step closer. โYou heard that right. Youโre mine for tonight.โ
Another pause, deliberate, held just long enough to feel like a challenge.
โI promise I take good care of my babygirls. You donโt have to be afraid.โ
Your knees almost give.
And the worst part?
He knows.
He sees the way you freeze. The way your breathing shifts. The way your lips part just a little like you want to speak but donโt know how. Heโs watching every tiny movement like itโs his favorite song. So you force your body to stay upright. You meet his gaze head-on.
And you say, soft, but clear:
โIโm not.โ
No wobble in your voice. No flinch. His jaw tenses. Just a little. Like that answer did something to him.
โGood,โ he watches your face a beat longer. โCome on,โ he says, voice low, sure. โLetโs go somewhere quieter.โ
And just like that, you follow.
No questions. No hesitation. Just your heart thundering behind your ribs as you trail behind him, out of the venue, through the private corridors, into the car. The windows are tinted. The space is dim. Private.
You sit beside him. The leather seats cold beneath you.
But his presence?
Blazing.
He doesnโt say much. Doesnโt touch you. But heโs close.
Close enough that when you shift your leg, it brushes his. When you breathe in, you can smell the faint warmth of his cologne, the sweat from the show still clinging to his skin.
Your thighs are barely touching.
At first.
But as the car moves, and the minutes pass, Chan relaxes.
His legs spread wider, just naturally, lazily. His knee nudges yours once. Then again. And then he doesnโt move it away.
Your body goes still, hyperaware of the contact. He still hasnโt looked at you. Still hasnโt spoken.
And then...
His hand moves. Not sudden. Not demanding. Just a slow shift to his side, and then...
He touches your knee.
Warm palm. Light grip. Like it was nothing. Like it was everything.
You look down. His hand rests there for a beat.
Not moving. Just being there.
You donโt say a word. Neither does he.
The car slows. The lights shift. The driver says something quiet into the mic, and the door unlocks with a click.
Chan finally turns his head. Leans a little closer. And with that same casual, quiet confidence, he pats your thigh.
Soft. Warm. Possessive.
โWeโre here.โ
Youโre not sure how youโre still breathing.
But you follow him out of the car anyway.
โ
The door clicks shut behind you.
And before you can turnโฆ
Heโs already there.
You barely register your back hitting the wall. His body presses into yours, not hard, but like gravity, like inevitability.
His hands find your waist first, firm and steady, like heโs making sure youโre real. Then your face, his thumb under your jaw, tilting you up.
And when he speaks, his voice is rougher, lower, more him than itโs ever been.
โYou know what you did to me?โ
You blink, breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat.
โAlways showing up this pretty. And now wearing that pinโฆ giving me those fucking eyes all night?โ
Your lips part. Maybe to respond. Maybe to breathe. But you never get the chance.
Because he kisses you.
Hard.
No hesitation. No buildup. Just all that slow-burning tension finally crashing down, his mouth hot and demanding, lips bruising yours in the best way.
And the way he kisses?
Itโs not messy. Itโs focused. Like heโs been waiting, fantasizing, knowing exactly how this would feel. Like he wants to memorize your taste before he even thinks about anything else.
His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, holding you there. Not so you canโt move, so you wonโt dare.
And he doesnโt stop to ask if itโs okay.
Because your hands are already in his shirt. Your body is already arching into his like you need it. Like you've wanted this just as bad.
He breaks the kiss only to breathe against your mouth.
โYouโre mine tonight, babygirl.โ
And when he says it this time?
Itโs not a flirtation.
Itโs a fact.
The second his lips crash into yours, the world disappears. Thereโs no hotel room. No walls. No floor beneath your feet.
Just him.
And god, his mouth.
You had seen it so many times. On screens, in stages, curved into grins that felt too sweet to be real. But this close?
Itโs criminal. The most kissable mouth youโve ever seen. Soft, full, sinful.
But his kiss?
Itโs sweet and sharp. Like honey laced with poison. Like something designed to ruin you slowly.
And it does.
You melt into him instantly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His body is solid against yours, like heโs built to hold weight, your weight, and heโs not letting go.
His scent hits you next.
Clean sweat. Faint cologne. Skin and heat and adrenaline. You donโt even realize youโve inhaled until it makes your knees go weak.
And his hairโฆ
Damp from the show. Little curls at his nape breaking free, curling behind his ears, soft and unstyled and real. You bury your hand there before you even think about it, and fuck, itโs like silk under your fingers.
He groans into your mouth at the touch, and the sound sends a pulse straight through your stomach.
And his handsโฆ
You donโt know how someone so strong can touch you this gently.
Thereโs nothing frantic. Nothing sloppy. Every brush of his fingers is grounding, your waist, your back, your cheek. Like heโs mapping you out. Memorizing you through the skin.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, foreheads brushing, lips barely apart.
His thumb strokes your cheekbone.
โYou okay?โ he murmurs, voice rough, like the question costs him effort to ask.
You nod before you even mean to.
Your voice? Gone.
Because youโve never felt anything like this. Never been this seen. This wanted. Every part of your body is on fire and floating at the same time.
And heโs right there, holding you through it.
You pull back just enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling like a storm. Your skin still tingles from his touch, every inch of you alive and raw.
โGod, Chan,โ you say, voice low but full of awe, almost a whisper but sharp like a blade. โWhy the fuck are you this charming? You donโt even seem to try. You just are.โ
You brush past him, needing space, airโฆ anything to steady the fire burning inside you.
But even as you move, you donโt look away. Your eyes catch his, wild and dark, and something unspoken passes between you.
โYou know,โ you murmur, stepping closer again, your fingers brushing over his arm, โIโve dreamed about you.โ
Chan stills.
Your hand trails upward, the curve of his shoulder, the line of his neck, until youโre cupping his jaw, your thumb grazing the corner of his mouth. His skin is warm beneath your touch. Real. Too real.
You trace his lips, watching how they part slightly under your fingertip.
โYeah?โ he murmurs, voice low, rough. โWhat you dreamed about?โ
You shrug, all fake casual. Like your heart isnโt trying to punch out of your chest.
โWell, you knowโฆ I bet youโd be an awesome boyfriend and all. Sweet. Caring.โ
You look at him through your lashes, and fuck, the smile already tugging at his mouth sends a jolt down your spine.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing with amusement, heat building behind them.
โBut?โ he prompts, soft and dangerous.
You smirk, just a little.
โBut Iโฆ I kindaโฆโ
The word hangs there, teasing. He leans in slightly, eyes locked on yours like he already knows youโre about to wreck him.
โYou kinda what, babygirl?โ
That word again.
And just like that, your breath stutters. Your knees almost give out, again.
But you hold your ground. You bite your bottom lip, and let the words spill, soft but laced with fire:
โYouโre kinda naughty, arenโt you?โ You tilt your head, watching him freeze, just for a beat. โSo thatโs the kind of stuff I dreamed about.โ
The silence that follows is heavy, thick with heat, with want, with everything thatโs been boiling under the surface since the minute you locked eyes.
Chanโs jaw tenses. His hands flex at his sides, like heโs barely keeping them from reaching for you again.
And then, he steps forward, into your space, until your back hits the wall again.
His face is so close, you feel every word ghost across your lips:
โThen let me make your dreams come true.โ
You donโt remember how you made it to the bed. Only that one second you were standing there, breathless and burning, and the next you were falling back onto cool sheets, with Chan crawling over you like a storm rolling in, steady, powerful, inevitable.
His mouth is on you again before you can speak. Not just kissing. Claiming. Your lips, your throat, your collarbone, each kiss deliberate, deep, like heโs trying to ruin every inch of you with his mouth. You arch into him and he groans like the sound is being torn out of his chest.
โFuckโโ he pants, dragging his hand up your thigh, โyou feel unreal, babygirl.โ
That nickname again. And this time, it doesnโt just make your knees weak, it pulls a moan straight from your throat. Youโre already squirming under him, nerves buzzing so loud you can barely think. And he notices. He loves it.
โYeah? This what you wanted?โ he whispers against your skin, lips ghosting over your stomach as he drags your shirt up slowly, watching your body twitch under the touch. โYou dreamed about me all over you like this?โ
Your hands twist in the sheets as he finally gets the shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind him. He just looks at you for a second. Chan freezes. Eyes dark. Mouth parted. Chest rising and falling like heโs trying not to devour you all at once.
You're in a black corset, hugging every curve, cinched perfectly at your waist, boned structure pushing your tits up just enough. Itโs not subtle. Itโs not sweet. Itโs intentional.
And the way Chanโs jaw tightens, the sound that rips from his chest? Wrecks you.
โFucking hell,โ he breathes, voice rougher than youโve ever heard it. โYou wore this under your shirt?โ
He reaches out like he needs to touch to believe it, hands gliding along your sides, slow and reverent.
โYou tryna kill me, baby?โ
You blink up at him, breathless, just watching his reaction.
โNo,โ you whisper. โJust thoughtโฆ if I ever got this close to you, I wanted to be ready.โ
That breaks him.
He leans in, groaning, pressing his forehead to yours as he mutters, โYouโre insane.โ His fingers dig into your waist now, not hard, but firm enough to make you whimper. Grounding. Claiming.
He looks down at you again, at the way the corset lifts your chest, molds to your skin, and he laughs, soft, dark, disbelieving.
โHow the fuck am I supposed to behave now?โ
His mouth finds your chest, kissing along the edges of lace like heโs worshiping you, sucking marks into skin wherever he can reach. His hands roam lower, gripping your thighs like heโs memorizing every inch.
His lips trail slow, deliberate kisses along the edges of the corset, fingers tracing the delicate lace without breaking contact with your skin. Every soft touch sends electricity shooting through you, and you can feel him fighting to stay composed, but failing.
He groans low, breath hitching as his hands slide up and down your waist, the boned structure pressing firmly under his palms.
โDamn,โ he murmurs against your skin, voice thick with need. โThisโฆ this is torture.โ
His mouth drifts back up to your collarbone, lips sucking and biting gently, but his hands donโt stop teasing the corsetโs tight fit, fingers dragging along the satin in a maddening dance.
His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wild.
โI wanna take it off,โ he admits, voice raw. โBut right nowโฆ I wanna drive you crazy with it on.โ
And with that, he presses a kiss just under your ear, teeth grazing softly as his hands keep teasing, sending shivers racing down your spine.
You arch into him, breath catching.
His fingers curl tighter around your waist, nails barely grazing your skin through the fabric, and you can feel the tension coiling in his body, the hunger, the impatience.
Then, without warning, he grips the edge of the corsetโs laces and pulls.
The satin slips down your curves like liquid, exposing every inch of skin beneath. Your breath hitches as cool air hits you, and his mouth drops open just a little, raw, unfiltered desire shining in his eyes.
โFuck,โ he breathes, voice husky and broken. โYouโre fire.โ
He leans in, lips crashing against yours with a desperate hunger, hands sliding over your bare waist and back. His mouth moves with an urgent, needy rhythm, and you melt into him once more, skin alive with every touch.
โMine for the night, huh?โ he murmurs, thumb brushing over your lower lip.
You meet his eyes, breath shallow. โNo,โ you whisper. โI think Iโm yours for real.โ
His grin is slow and wicked, a glint of satisfaction lighting up his face. โOh, I guess Iโm winning already,โ he laughs softly, dragging his fingers down the curve of your waist, โand I havenโt even started.โ
He leans in, mouth brushing against your ear, voice low and dirty. โYou remember what you said earlier? That you didnโt have a bias?โ
You nod, barely, your body arching toward his.
โWell,โ he breathes, lips grazing your skin as he trails down your neck, โby the time Iโm done with you, you wonโt remember anyone else.โ
His fingers slide between your thighs, finally touching where youโre aching for him, slow and deliberate. You gasp, clinging to his shoulders.
โYouโll only remember me,โ he whispers against your collarbone, then kisses it. โMy name. Your favorite.โ
He looks up at you then, eyes dark and full of promise.
โYouโll say it,โ he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. โYouโll say my name while I make you come.โ
You whimper, already breathless, hips twitching as he kisses lower and lower, closer and closer, but never quite where you need him. You didn't even realize he took off your pants until you felt the heat of his hands press against your thighs, keeping them open, keeping you at his mercy.
โBut not yet,โ he smirks, trailing the tip of his nose along your inner thigh, you were feeling his hot breath in your skin. โNot until I say so.โ
He licks a slow stripe along your skin, giving you several kisses, still avoiding the spot thatโs throbbing for him. You let out a desperate little sound, back arching off the bed, but he only chuckles.
โAlready begging and I havenโt even tasted you yet?โ His voice is a low rasp, almost affectionate. โYou really are mine.โ
You reach for his hair, trying to pull him where you want him, but he tuts and pins your hips down firmly.
โPatience, babygirl. Iโm gonna take my time with you.โ
His thumbs hook under your thighs, spreading you wider, and his eyes drop to the soaked fabric between your legs. He groans, low, hungry, like heโs barely holding himself back.
โLook at you,โ he murmurs, dragging one finger along the damp cotton. โDripping through your panties. Fuck, you really did dream about this, didnโt you?โ
Your hips roll instinctively toward his touch, chasing friction, but he pulls his hand away just as quickly, smirking.
โDesperate little thing,โ he teases, placing a soft kiss right over your clothed core. The pressure makes you gasp, your hands fisting in the sheets. โYou gonna be good for me and wait?โ
โChan,โ you whimper, voice already trembling.
He gives you another kiss. "Hmm, you smell so good."
He hums, pleased, and then slides one finger over the wet patch again, slow, steady, applying the slightest pressure. Then back. Then again. Just enough to make you ache for more.
You twist under him, and he finally slips the tip of his finger beneath the edge of your panties, brushing against your folds, barely there. Maddening.
โYouโre so wet,โ he groans. โAnd so fucking soft.โ
He watches you like heโs studying every reaction, eyes locked on yours as he presses against your entrance, just enough to tease.
Then his mouth is back on you, this time, tongue pressing against the soaked fabric in one long, slow stroke. The heat of it through your panties sends sparks up your spine.
You moan, your thighs clenching around his head, and he just laughs, low and wrecked.
โI can taste you through these,โ he mutters against you. โYou gonna come like this, baby? With your panties still on?โ
His tongue moves in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing keeping him from truly devouring you. Itโs not enough, itโs nowhere near enough, but itโs making you insane all the same. Your hips buck involuntarily, desperate for more, but his grip is firm, keeping you right where he wants you.
โTell me what you want,โ he rasps, breath hot against the soaked fabric. His tongue flicks again, slow, lazy, like he has all the time in the world. โTell me and I promise Iโll take care of it.โ
Youโre panting now, fingers tangled in his curls, eyes half-lidded as you look down at him.
โI want you,โ you breathe. โI want your mouth. No teasing. Please, Chanโโ
โMmm,โ he hums, mouth curving against you in a smug smile. โGood girl.โ
His hands slip beneath the curve of your ass, lifting you just slightly, and he mouths at you again, harder this time, dragging his tongue in deeper pressure over your clit, still through the soaked fabric.
โFuck, I loved hearing you beg,โ he growls, voice muffled. โAnd you taste so fucking sweet like this.โ
Then finally, finally, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he pulls them down, slow and deliberate, watching your face the entire time.
โYouโre gonna fall apart for me now, babygirl,โ he murmurs, settling between your thighs again. โAnd youโre gonna say my name when you do.โ
His mouth is on you, bare, hot, devastating. No more barriers. No more teasing. Just Chan, and that sinful tongue, and his name in pieces on your lips.
He groans the moment he tastes you properly, like itโs the best fucking thing heโs ever had in his mouth, and then he dives in, tongue flat and wide as he licks a slow, firm stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You gasp, back arching, and his hands grip your thighs tighter to hold you in place.
โGod, Chanโโ
โThatโs it,โ he pants, lips wet, eyes glazed. โSay it again. Louder.โ
He locks his mouth around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking in tight, focused circles, and your hips jerk off the bed, his hands press down harder, grounding you. Controlling you.
One of his hands leaves your thigh just long enough to slide two fingers into you, deep and smooth, curling up at the perfect angle.
โFuckโโ you cry out, hands grabbing at anything, his hair, the sheets, your own skin.
His mouth doesnโt let up. Not for a second. Heโs moaning into you like the taste of you is driving him wild, his fingers moving slow and deep, tongue fast and relentless. The contrast is devastating.
You feel it building fast, hot and tight and overwhelming, your body trembling from head to toe.
โThat's it, babygirl,โ he growls between licks, fingers never stopping. โYou're so close. I can feel it.โ
He speeds up, tongue working your clit like itโs his only job in the world, and you break, your thighs shaking, body tensing, and then unraveling in his hands as you come with a loud, desperate cry.
โf-fuck, Chanโ!โ
He groans at the sound, eyes fluttering closed as if you saying his name like that feeds something deep in him.
He doesnโt stop.
He keeps licking through it, slower now, coaxing every last wave out of you until youโre twitching and whimpering from overstimulation.
When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, chin wet, and thereโs a look in his eyes thatโs pure wrecked pride. He crawls up your body, hovering over you, his voice wrecked and low.
โThere she is,โ he whispers, kissing your cheek, then your jaw, then your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. โGood fucking girl. You said my name so pretty.โ
Youโre breathless, completely boneless beneath him, limbs trembling, chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven bursts. Your thighs are still twitching from the aftershocks, your mind fuzzy with the kind of bliss that feels almost unreal.
โGod, Chan,โ you manage, voice raw and shaky, โyouโre insane. Youโre better than what I dreamed of.โ
He laughs, low, dark, satisfied.
โYeah?โ he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair back from your forehead. โDidnโt think I could top your dirty little imagination, huh?โ
You shake your head, lips parted, still trying to process the wreckage he just left behind. His hand slides down to your thigh again, gripping it with possessive ease, thumb stroking slow circles into your skin.
โYouโre still shaking,โ he whispers, voice smug now. โStill fucking trembling and I havenโt even fucked you yet.โ
You let out a broken sound, part whimper, part breathless laugh, and he leans down, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then your jaw. Then your throat.
โLook at you,โ he rasps. โWrecked. Messy. Dripping all over the sheets because I ate you through your panties.โ
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, expression gleaming with that cocky, almost reverent intensity. Your heart kicks in your chest, but your lips curl into a slow smile, something shifting behind your eyes.
Still breathless, still aching, but nowโฆ now you want a taste of him.
Your hand slips between your bodies, fingers skating over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. You feel him suck in a sharp breath as your fingers graze over the hard line of him beneath the fabric.
โThen let me return the favor,โ you whisper, voice sweet but loaded with intent. โI wanna see how loud you get.โ
He raises an eyebrow, but his breath stutters.
โOh?โ he says, tone amused but shaky around the edges. โYou think you can wreck me?โ
You lean up, mouth brushing his ear now, voice sultry and daring.
You trail your fingers lower, brushing over the bulge in his pants with deliberate slowness, feeling him twitch beneath your palm. His breath hitches, the muscles in his stomach tensing.
โYou really thought youโd fuck me tonight?โ you whisper, your voice all soft venom and promise. Then you lean in close, lips brushing his ear. โOh no, Channie. Iโm the one riding.โ
The moment the name slips from your lips, something in him snaps.
His eyes go wide, like you just knocked the breath out of him, and his jaw clenches tight. You feel it, the way his whole body reacts, like the word hit him straight in the gut.
โFuck,โ he mutters, his voice suddenly wrecked, strained, hips jerking up instinctively against your hand. โDonโtโdonโt call me that looking at me like that unless you want me to lose my fucking mind.โ
You smile, wicked and slow, and you do it again, just to watch him fall apart.
โAww, does Channie like that?โ you crawl over his lap now, straddling his thighs. โIs that what makes you weak?โ
He groans, head falling back against the pillows, chest rising in shallow breaths.
โJesus, you really wanna play this game?โ he rasps.
You lean down, grinding your hips against his, slow and deep, and he bucks beneath you, a choked sound escaping him.
โOh yeah,โ you murmur against his throat. โI want to watch you break.โ
You drag your lips along his jaw, your fingers dipping under the waistband of his pants, teasing the skin just above his cock, but not freeing him. Not yet.
โListen, Channie,โ you purr, kissing his pulse point. โI'll show you what good girls can do when theyโre on top.โ
โHoly fuck,โ he breathes. โYouโre not real.โ
But you are. Youโre very real, and youโre about to ride him until he forgets his own name. Unless, of course, heโs too busy moaning yours.
You stay hovering above him for a second, catching your breath, your thighs still trembling just slightly from the way he wrecked you moments ago. Chan watches you with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide, hands resting warm on your hips, like heโs trying not to grip you too hard, like heโs letting you decide the pace now.
You lean down and kiss him once, soft and slow, then slide your hands down his abs, once again down to the waistband of his pants.
โLetโs take these off,โ you murmur, voice low, still breathless.
He lifts his hips obediently, eyes locked on yours, and you tug his pants down his legs, tossing them somewhere to the floor.
Only his underwear now, dark, tight, and doing nothing to hide just how hard he is for you. You pause, breath catching in your throat as your eyes drag over the thick shape of him straining against the fabric.
โOh,โ you whisper, lips parting. โYouโreโฆ big.โ
He smirks lazily, head sinking deeper into the pillows, completely in his element now.
โScared?โ he teases, one hand brushing down your side, light as air. โItโs not too late to run, babygirl.โ
You shoot him a look, climbing back over his lap, one knee on either side of his hips.
His groan is ragged, full of heat. And then you lower yourself, slowly, your soaked cunt meeting the wet spot already forming on his boxers. The fabric drags against your folds, heat against heat, and both of you feel it.
He sucks in a sharp breath the second you settle on him.
โFuckโโ he exhales. โYouโre soaking me.โ
You smile against his throat, rolling your hips once, slowly. A moan catches in your throat as your clit drags perfectly over the pressure of him, both of you desperate already.
He grips your hips tighter this time, grounding you, guiding you without taking over.
โThatโs it, baby,โ he whispers, voice thick. โRide it. Nice and slow.โ
And so you do.
You grind down on him in a slow rhythm, pressing deep into the heat of his body, his length solid beneath the damp fabric. You can feel how soaked both of you are now, his underwear stained with precum and your slick.
Each roll of your hips sends sparks up your spine, pleasure building again in lazy waves. Chanโs head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as he groans deep in his chest.
โYouโre gonna ruin me,โ he rasps. โAnd I'm still fucking clothed.โ
You kiss him again, open-mouthed and messy, grinding down harder this time, and the way he whimpers into your mouth makes you clench. His hands are all over you, gripping your ass, your thighs, sliding up your spine like he canโt get enough of touching you.
โBaby,โ he rasps, voice rough, โtake them off.โ
You donโt even hesitate.
Your fingers slip between your bodies, and you hook them into the waistband of his underwear, eyes locked on his as you drag the fabric down his hips. His cock is flushed, thick, glistening with precum. Heโs hard and heavy against your skin now, and your mouth actually falls open at the sight of him.
Chan watches your face closely, breath shallow, chest rising and falling.
โStill not scared?โ he murmurs.
You shake your head slowly, lifting yourself just enough to position over him again, your slick folds brushing along the length of his shaft now, bare to bare. The sensation makes both of you moan at once.
โNo,โ you whisper. โNot scared. Justโฆ needy.โ
You start to move again, hips rolling forward in a slow, torturous grind, your clit dragging along the underside of his cock, spreading your wetness all over him.
โFuck,โ Chan groans, hands trembling where they grip your waist. โYouโre gonna make me come like this.โ
His cock twitches beneath you, leaking even more as you keep moving, slick and soft, never letting him inside. Youโre both flushed and panting, bodies burning, but you? You won't rush it. God, you want this to last forever.
Your rhythm stays slow, purposeful. Your folds part around him with each movement, teasing him with every pass.
โYou feel so good,โ you whisper, eyes heavy as you watch his face, the tension in his jaw, the way his lips fall open, the way his gaze flickers between your face and where your bodies grind together.
He lets out a helpless moan, thrusting up just slightly to meet your body, but you flatten your hands on his chest, holding him down.
โNot yet,โ you murmur, barely a breath.
Chan swears under his breath, eyes wild.
โYouโre trying to kill me.โ
You lean down, lips brushing his ear.
โNo,โ you breathe, grinding your wet heat over the head of his cock again, slow and deep. โIโm savoring you. When will I have another chance to grind on you like this?"
Your pace shifts, faster now, rougher, the wet drag of your folds over his cock becoming messier, louder, filthier. You moan shamelessly with each roll of your hips, chasing the friction as your clit catches the head of him over and over again.
Chan doesnโt answer.
He just stares up at you, lips parted, sweat beading at his brow, his hands digging into your hips like heโs holding on for dear life. His jaw clenches, chest heaving. He bites his bottom lip hard, like heโs trying not to lose it.
You can feel how close he is. How much he's trying not to move. Trying not to flip you, thrust into you, ruin the slow burn you built.
But heโs barely hanging on.
And then you stop. Just like that.
His eyes snap open, breath catching, and before he can ask why, before he can beg, you lift your hips just enough, angle your body, and push him in.
Slow. Stretching. Full. Hot.
His cock slides into you and your breath stutters from the fullness, from the perfect way he fills you.
โFuckingโ Jesus,โ Chan chokes out, eyes wide, head falling back with a low, guttural moan. โYou didnโt evenโfuckโwarn me.โ
You sink all the way down, walls clenching around him tight and wet, and the moment you bottom out, you both freeze.
Youโre panting, shaking, overwhelmed.
Heโs already wrecked.
He canโt even speak.
โHoly shit,โ he gasps, hands trembling now where they hold you. โYou... you feel unreal. Youโre so fucking tight.โ
You roll your hips once, slow and deep, and his whole body arches off the bed.
โBaby, please,โ he groans. โYouโre really gonna kill me.โ
But you're not rushing. Now that heโs inside, you want to feel everything. You shift again, your walls fluttering around him as you start to move, just enough to make him whimper. His hands are gripping you now like heโs scared heโll fall apart without you anchoring him.
Heโs not in control, you are.
And heโs absolutely losing his mind.
You keep him deep inside as your hips start to roll, slow, deliberate, grinding rather than thrusting. Itโs not just about moving; itโs about feeling. About dragging every inch of him against your soaked walls, over every nerve thatโs already on fire.
You press your palms to his chest and roll your hips forward, a slow, sinuous grind that makes him pulse inside you. Then you rock back, letting the head of his cock rub right where youโre sensitive, your breath catching hard.
โFuck,โ you whisper, your voice wrecked.
Because itโs too good.
Because you could fuck him fast and fall apart in seconds, but you donโt want to. You want to last. To memorize every stretch, every twitch, every broken sound he makes when heโs buried in you like this.
Chan is beneath you, jaw clenched, eyes dark and burning as he watches the way your body moves over his. His hands slide up your waist, trembling slightly, thumbs brushing the curve of your ribs.
You do it again, hips forward, hips back, a slow drag, deep and hard. His cock presses against that sweet spot inside and you gasp, your thighs shaking as you fight the urge to speed up.
โOh, f-fuck, you feelโโ you start, but canโt finish.
Because the words wonโt come. Your bodyโs too full, your mind too foggy. So you just keep moving.
Another roll. Another moan. Another slow drag of your soaked heat around his cock.
And Chan is unraveling.
His hands grip your hips again, fingertips digging into your skin, holding you in place as his breath comes in sharp, shallow bursts.
โYouโreโ Oh, fuck, babygirlโโ he grits out, hips bucking up once, just enough to push deeper.
You both moan at the same time.
Then your hands are in his hair, tugging, and your lips are at his ear.
โIf I move faster,โ you whisper, desperate, โIโm gonna come.โ
Chanโs hands slide up your spine. He cups the back of your neck and pulls your forehead to his, his voice breaking as he says, "Good. I wanna feel it.โ
But still, you stay slow. Still, you grind. Still, you make him feel every aching second of being inside you.
Youโre soaked. Warm. Clenching. Every tiny movement sends sparks straight through your core.
You roll your hips again, a little deeper, a little firmer, and Chan swears violently, head falling back.
You lean in, lips brushing his jaw.
โDo you feel how wet you made me?โ
โYes, fuck, baby, I feel all of youโโ
You squeeze around him once, just to prove it, and he chokes out your name. And then, just then, you shift your hips back and begin to build a rhythm. Still slow. Still grinding. But deeper now. Sharper. Enough to make his thighs flex beneath you, enough to make your toes curl.
The pace is changing.
The tension is rising.
Youโre both so close.
And you? You canโt hold back anymore.
The slow, teasing grind has your body trembling, your breath ragged, and the fire building inside your chest is too much to ignore. You want more, harder, faster, deeper.
With a low, desperate moan, you push down harder with your hips and start to ride him faster.
Your movements sharpen, no longer lazy rolls, but quick, controlled thrusts that press him fully inside you every time. Your thighs tighten around his hips as you set the rhythm, each bump and roll sending jolts of pleasure through your nerve endings.
His hands grip your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin like heโs trying to hold you close, and you want that. You want him to feel how much youโre giving, how much you need him.
The heat between you is suffocating. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead as you bounce harder, faster, every slick slap of skin on skin driving you wild.
You feel him twitch inside you, thick and hot, the head of his cock hitting deeper, brushing your walls in ways that make your knees weak.
Your hips rock forward in rapid, rhythmic motions, slow enough that you can feel every inch of him, but fast enough that the burning pressure in your core sharpens into a delicious ache.
โFuck, Chan,โ you gasp, biting your lip, โYouโre so... so good.โ
His breath hitches, voice rough as he groans your name.
โHoly shit, youโre wrecking me, baby.โ
You squeeze your thighs together, grinding down onto him, your soaked folds slick against his skin, and he lets out a ragged moan, hips thrusting up involuntarily to meet your pace.
The room is filled with the sound of your gasps, moans, and the wet slap of your bodies moving together.
Youโre lost in the sensation, riding him harder, the sweet burn building rapidly as you edge closer to the edge.
Your hands clutch his shoulders for balance, nails digging in as you push your limits, faster and faster, your breath hitching with every movement.
Chanโs hips jerk, a deep growl rumbling from his chest, and you know heโs close, so are you.
And neither of you want to stop.
Your thighs burn from how hard youโre riding him, from how tight youโre gripping his sides, knees pressing into the mattress as your hips roll with fierce, frantic need.
Every time you sink down, you feel the thick head of his cock hit that spot inside you that makes your vision spark, and your breath catches on a soft, choked moan. You swear you can feel him everywhere, stretching you open, throbbing deep, thick veins dragging against your walls in the most perfect way.
Heโs watching you, eyes glazed over with heat, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling in sharp bursts beneath you.
โYouโre driving me fucking insane,โ he groans, voice low and ragged.
You tilt your hips forward on the next grind, gasping when your clit brushes the base of him, slick and swollen and aching. Itโs messy now, the sound of you taking him echoing through the room, skin on skin, wet and sharp and so filthy you could cry.
โFuck, Chan,โ you whimper, and your voice cracks around it, the sound raw and desperate.
He moans your name back like it hurts, like itโs everything. His fingers dig into your waist again, steadying you as your pace falters for just a moment, because the pleasure is too much, and he knows it.
โRight there?โ he pants, lifting his hips to meet your next grind. โThatโs the spot, isnโt it, baby?โ
You nod, eyes squeezing shut, jaw slack, mouth open around a breathless cry as you move harder. Faster.
You donโt bounce, not now. Youโre rolling your hips with long, deep, dragging thrusts, soaking him, grinding your swollen folds over the base of his cock every time you bottom out. You chase friction. You chase that burn.
Youโre soaked, itโs leaking down your thighs, slicking the space between you, coating his cock, his stomach, his hands when he runs them down your ass to squeeze, to help you move.
โFuck,โ he groans. โYouโre fucking soaked for me. Come for me, baby. Do it, let go.โ
You nod, broken, because your release is right there. You can feel it, heat building in your belly, tight and electric. If you let go now, youโll fall apart completely.
But you still fight it. You slow for half a second. Grind down hard, then back again. You want it to last. Still want to feel everything.
Youโre panting, dizzy, forehead pressed to his, eyes wide and glassy. Your lips are red and parted, chest flushed. His hands grip your ass again, then slide up your spine like heโs grounding himself on your body, like he needs every inch of your skin under his hands or heโll lose it.
โDon't forger to say it,โ he pants again. โSay my fucking name when you come.โ
You nod.
You will.
And then it hits. Hard.
It crashes into you like a wave, a violent, shaking wreck of a climax that tears through your whole body without mercy.
You cry out, not just his name, but a string of whimpers and curses, syllables falling apart on your tongue.
โChanโ oh my godโfuckโโ
Your thighs tremble as your orgasm pulses through you, wave after wave ripping from your core, and your hips lose their rhythm, all you can do now is grind, desperate and messy, soaking him, your slick making everything slippery and loud and so fucking filthy.
Your nails rake down his chest. Your head drops to his shoulder, forehead pressed into the crook of his neck, moaning his name over and over like itโs the only word left in your brain.
He holds you through it, hands locked on your ass, your waist, steadying you as your whole body jerks and clenches around him. His cock throbs inside you, thick and twitching, and heโs panting, groaning, barely holding on.
โJesus fuck, babygirlโโ he growls, his voice tight, raw, completely undone. โYouโre squeezing me so tightโfuckโyou feel like heaven.โ
You try to lift your hips again, but your bodyโs too wrecked. Too overstimulated. All you can do is stay slumped against him, letting the aftershocks ripple through you while his hands roam your back and his cock pulses inside your still-clenching walls.
You came so hard, youโre still shaking. Still moaning his name. Still dripping down his length.
And Chan? Well, he's fucking desperate.
You're still trembling on top of him, breath shallow, body limp with the weight of your orgasm. Your skin is damp with sweat, your thighs soaked, your muscles too soft to move.
He groans, low and desperate, and in one quick motion, he pulls out of you, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. Your slick clings to his cock, glistening, dripping down his length and his stomach.
โFuckโโ he growls, voice guttural now. โYouโre my fucking dream.โ
You blink up at him, wrecked, and then you watch, eyes wide, as he wraps a fist around himself. He strokes hard. Fast. Frantic.
Like heโs been holding back this whole time, and now itโs snapping. The pressure, the need, the pure hunger for release. His hand is a blur, slick from you, pumping over his length with punishing speed.
โFuck, baby,โ he groans again, head tipped back, lips parted, muscles tight. โYou got me this fucking desperate.โ
You moan, half from the oversensitivity, half from the sight of him: flushed and wild and so close heโs falling apart right in front of you.
His abs flex with every pump. His other hand fists your waist. His cock is flushed deep red, leaking so much it drips onto his hand, and his movements get more messy, more needy.
โGonna comeโโ he gasps. โFuck, Iโm gonna comeโโ
And he does.
With a loud, broken moan, his body jerks beneath you and thick ropes of cum spill across his stomach and chest, messy and hot and endless. His fist keeps stroking through it, wringing out every last drop as his hips twitch beneath you, his breath ragged, every muscle clenched.
Itโs feral. Unfiltered. He groans your name through his teeth.
And when he finally slows, hand still lazily stroking himself through the comedown, he blinks up at you with a ruined kind of smile.
โLook what you did to me,โ he breathes, voice shot and full of awe. โFuck.โ
You finally let your body give in, limbs heavy as you slide off of him and curl into his side. The heat still clings to your skin, your pulse still not quite settled, but your mind drifts somewhere quieter now. Somewhere slower.
He turns to look at you, eyes hazy, lips swollen, hair a complete mess. But itโs the way heโs looking at you that gets you. Like youโre not just someone he brought back to a hotel room after a show. Like youโre something more than that.
You swallow, breath shaky. โFuck,โ you whisper, eyes on the ceiling before you glance back at him. โI didnโt want it to end.โ
He exhales softly, then pulls you closer, pressing a hand to your bare waist. โI know,โ he murmurs. โI know.โ
You blink at him again, and for some reason, your chest tightens, just a little. His gaze flickers over your face like he sees it too, the shift, the ache, the unspoken wish for more time. He leans in and kisses you, slow, deep, lingering. Like he's holding on.
When he finally pulls back, his lips still brush yours as he speaks.
โSoโฆโ he whispers, voice low and warm. โWhenโs the next concert youโll come to?โ
"I guess all of them. I guess... I'd do anything to see my bias again"
+++ authors note: holy shit. that babygirl message on chan's bubble made me fucking lose my mind today. this man fucking drives me crazy. Iโm delusional af.
every time Chan makes this fic seem a little too real my heart skips a beat. and reminds me i have a messy draft of come here pt2 waiting to be finished........
Anyone and everyone CAN write. The worldโs most skilled writer didnโt start off skilled. The key is that they practice hard by writing a lot.
As long as you write, you are practicing your craft and you are getting better at writing. But you will never get anywhere if you let AI write for you.
contains: +18, friends to lovers, grinding, dry humping, fingering, nipple play, protected sex, back scratching, lots of moaning
authors note: english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in advance
โ๏ฝกยฐโฉ
summary: Close friends. Endless tension. Everyoneโs been waiting for you two to finally do something about it. New Yearโs eve in hot Australian summer was the perfect setting for a terrible idea. Except thatโฆ it doesnโt feel terrible at all.
The house was already glowing when you arrived, warm light spilling through wide glass doors, music humming low beneath the sound of laughter. The air was thick with summer heat, that unmistakable Australian kind that clung to skin and made everything feel slower, heavier, more alive.
It didnโt feel like a party. Felt more like being invited into someoneโs dream version of New Yearโs, bare feet on cool floors, open windows, the promise of fireworks and bad decisions later.
Chan spotted you before you even made it past the gate.
โYou came,โ he said.
He crossed the distance easily, silk catching the light as he moved. The blue Fendi set looked criminal on him, fluid, the fabric clinging just enough in the heat. The set hung loose on him, collar open, sleeves pushed up. Blue like water. Like calm. Like control.
Then there was you.
He stopped in front of you, eyes flicking over you once, quick, polite, absolutely not fooling anyone.
You were dressed in red. The kind of red that didnโt blend into a room, didnโt soften under warm lights. It held its ground. The heat seemed to belong to you, clinging to your skin, pooling at your collarbone, your legs.
Where Chan looked cool despite the night, you looked like the reason it felt so hot.
โOf course I did,โ you said, smiling. โYou made it sound impossible to miss.โ
He laughed softly, glancing back at the house. โYeah. I wanted it to feelโฆ right.โ
And somehow, standing there with the warm night pressing in around you, it already did.
Inside, the boys drifted in and out of your orbit, greetings, teasing, drinks pressed into your hands, but Chan stayed close. Too close to be accidental. Every time you turned, he was there, leaning in to hear you over the music, shoulder brushing yours like it belonged there.
The heat made everything more intimate. The way his arm hovered behind you. The way his knee brushed yours when you sat. The way his gaze lingered a second too long, then did it again.
You talked about nothing. And everything.
About the year ending. About plans that werenโt fully formed yet. About things that made him laugh in that quiet, breathy way that always felt personal.
At some point, you noticed the shift.
The boys had moved on to the backyard. Voices blurred into background noise. Music pulsed low and lazy.
And suddenly, it was just you and Chan.
Chan beside you like an anchor of blue, calm and steady. You like a red spark that refused to dim. The air between you felt charged, thick as the summer night.ย
Like something waiting.ย
Like heat before a storm.
Like fireworks, holding their breath.
The moment didnโt break all at once. It cracked.
Footsteps, louder now. Familiar voices drifting back in like they owned the place. Seungmin appeared first, drink in hand, eyes flicking between you and Chan with immediate, sharp interest. His mouth twitched, already amused.
โChan,โ he said casually, way too casually. โDid you already show her where sheโs sleeping tonight?โ
The question landed heavy. Loaded.
Chan blinked. Once. Twice.
โOhโโ he laughed, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly all shy energy where there hadnโt been any seconds ago. โNo. Not yet.โ
You watched it happen in real time, the way his ears tinted pink, the way his posture shifted, like he had been caught doing something he absolutely had been thinking about.
Lee Know leaned in from the side, unbothered, eyes sharp with that familiar menace. He followed Chanโs gaze, then yours, and smirked.
โHe already did,โ Minho said. โHeโs standing right in front of her.โ
Silence.
Not awkward. Charged.
Chan let out a breathy laugh, half-embarrassed, half-nervous, shaking his head like that would somehow erase what Minho just implied. โYouโre insane,โ he muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.
And you... You didnโt even try to hide it.
The corner of your mouth lifted. Slow. Knowing. A smirk that said yeahโฆ maybe.
Chan saw it.
His laugh cut off just a fraction too early. His eyes flicked back to you, searching your face, catching that expression, and something in his gaze darkened. Aware.
โOh,โ he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Minho noticed. Of course he did. He grinned like a man who had just confirmed a theory. Seungmin snorted, shaking his head.
โIโm grabbing another drink,โ Seungmin said. โBefore whatever this is catches fire.โ
They left you there.
Chan shifted his weight, suddenly closer than before. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, the subtle change in his breathing.
โYou think this is funny?โ he asked softly, lips tugging upward, eyes still locked on yours.
You tilted your head. Innocent. Dangerous. โMaybe,โ you said. โLooks like a great place to sleep in.โ
His smile deepened. Slower now. Intentional.
โYeah?โ he replied.
And somewhere outside, a test firework cracked in the distance, early, impatient, like it couldnโt wait for midnight either.
You watched him for half a second longer than necessary. The way his smile lingered. The way his eyes didnโt leave yours. He wasnโt backing away, but he wasnโt stepping forward either. That's when you thought: You know what? If heโs not jumping into itโฆ I am.
A sudden crack echoed outside, bright and sharp. Light flashed through the glass walls, painting the room in brief color.
You turned your head toward the window, then back to him, already smiling.
โLooks like the partyโs already starting,โ you said lightly. โYouโll miss it.โ
You took a step back, just enough to create space. Just enough to make it a choice.
But Chan? Chan didnโt even look at the fireworks.
His eyes stayed on you, steady, amused. Like he had caught the trick the second you played it. A corner of his mouth lifted, slow and confident. Oh. Yeah. He clocked it.
He stepped closer instead.
โMy party,โ he said calmly, voice low, warm, unmistakably sure, โis already standing right in front of me.โ
The words settled between you, heavier than any explosion outside.
Another firework went off, gold this time, reflected in the glass, in his eyes. You could feel the heat of him now, close enough that moving away would be obvious.
He tilted his head slightly, studying your reaction. Testing.
โAnd besides,โ he added, softer now, like it was just for you, โIโm exactly where I want to be.โ
โWell, Iโm not.โ
It slipped out easy. Casual. Almost bored.
He blinked. Actually blinked.
โWhat?โ he laughed, genuinely thrown for the first time tonight. โYouโre not?โ
The confusion cracked his composure just enough, and that was all you needed. You stepped back into his space before he could recover, fingers catching lightly at the front of his shirt.
โNot yet,โ you murmured.
Then you kissed him.
It wasnโt rushed. Justโฆ decisive, like you had made up your mind a while ago and were finally, finally, acting on it. His breath hitched against your lips, surprise lasting only a heartbeat before instinct kicked in.
Chan kissed you back immediately.
His hand came up to your waist without thinking, grounding, warm. The world outside exploded, fireworks cracking louder now, brighter, but he barely seemed aware of it. His focus narrowed to you, to the way you fit against him, to the quiet little smile you felt curve into the kiss.
When you pulled back, just slightly, his forehead dropped to yours, laughter soft and breathless.
โWow,โ he said, stunned and delighted. โOkay.โ
The word barely had time to exist before he kissed you again.
This one was different.
Less careful. Less surprised. Like something in him had finally snapped into place, like the realization hit all at once and he wasnโt about to waste another second. His mouth found yours with a soft kind of desperation, a kiss that carried regret and relief all tangled together.
"Why didnโt I do this before?" You felt it in the way he leaned into you, like he was making up for lost time.
His hand tightened at your waist, not rough, just sure, anchoring himself, anchoring you. The blue silk brushed against your skin, cool for half a second before it wasnโt, before the heat between you swallowed it whole.
The room changed. Or maybe you did.
The air felt thicker, heavier. Heat bloomed low in your belly and spread outward, lighting your skin up from the inside. Every nerve suddenly awake. Every brush of his thumb, every shift of his mouth registering too clearly.
Fireworks burst outside again, white, gold, relentless, but it felt like they were happening under your skin now, echoing through you instead of the sky.
Chan broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, forehead pressing into yours again, a quiet, disbelieving laugh escaping him.
โJesus,โ he murmured. โI shouldโveโโ
He stopped himself, exhaled, then smiled against your lips like the thought alone was enough to undo him.
Instead of finishing the sentence, he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper. And the heat only kept building. And you didn't want it to stop. You wanted more.
You didnโt register his hands moving at first.
They were justโฆ there. At your waist. Your back. Sliding, steady, certain, like once he had decided, his body took over completely. The room blurred at the edges, noise dissolving into heat and color and the press of him against you.
You were vaguely aware of walking. Or being guided.
The next thing you knew, the balcony rail pressed against the back of your thighs. You gasped, not from the cold, but from him.
Chan lifted you easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had done it a hundred times in his head already. Your breath left you in a sharp sound as he set you on the edge of the balcony, the contrast jolting, cool surface, hot body, blue silk and red fabric colliding.
Your legs wrapped around his waist without permission. Pure instinct.
โOhโโ you breathed, startled by how perfectly you fit, by how right it felt.
Chan felt it too.
He froze for half a second, like the realization hit him all at once, then his hands slid down, firm and grounding, squeezing your thighs just enough to make you inhale sharply. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, a low wrecked sound leaving him.
โYeah, I know.โ he murmured, voice rough now.
At some point, the restraint just... disappeared. You could feel him now, hot and hard, pressing insistently against your core through the thin barrier of clothing still between you. The pressure made you gasp, made your hips roll forward instinctively.
You couldn't help but grind against him, chasing friction, chasing relief, chasing him. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tugging slightly, and you felt him twitch against you in response. You wanted more. You needed more.
Chan answered with muffled moans against your lips, the sounds vibrating between your mouths as he kissed you desperately.
His hands squeezed your thighs even harder, fingers digging into soft flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, pressing you back against him with enough force that you could feel every inch of him.
He rocked his hips up to meet yours, creating a rhythm that had you both panting, the friction not nearly enough. Every kiss bled into the next, softer but somehow needier, like neither of you could stand the space between breaths.
Chanโs mouth traced down your jaw, unhurried now, deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. His lips lingered at your neck, warm, already familiar, sending heat straight through you.
Your fingers slipped to the buttons of his shirt without thought, undoing one, then another, until the realization hit.
You opened your eyes.
Reality snapped into place all at once.
โChan,โ you breathed, gently but firm, pressing your palm to his chest. โI swear I donโt want to, butโฆ we should stop.โ
He stilled immediately, forehead resting against your shoulder, breath uneven.
โWhat?โ He pulled back just enough to look at you, confused, almost offended. โWhy?โ
You glanced around, heartbeat still racing. โSomeone can walk by and see us.โ
It took a second. Then he followed your gaze.
โOh,โ he said, blinking. A laugh escaped him, soft, helpless. โRight. Yeah. Hm.โ
He thought for half a beat longer than necessary, like he was long, long gone.
โWe could go to my room,โ he offered, casual but not really. โIf you want.โ
You smiled, teasing despite the way your skin still hummed. โYouโll really miss the fireworks at the party youโre hosting?โ
He didnโt answer right away.
Instead, he leaned in and kissed you again, quick, warm, certain. Like punctuation.
โI already told you,โ he murmured against your lips, smiling. โMy party is right here in front of me.โ
Your heart did something complicated in your chest, a skip, a stumble, something that felt dangerously close to falling.
"That's really unfair," you whispered, but you were already kissing him back, fingers curling into the open collar of his shirt.
Chan pulled away just enough to look at you properly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Is that a yes?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
He took your hand without another word, leading you back through the party and up to his room. The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the noise below to almost nothing.
For a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other. The urgency from outside had shifted into something slower, heavier.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping closer. His hands found your waist again, but gentler now. "We don't have toโ"
You kissed him before he could finish, rising on your toes, walking and kissing and touching towards his bed. You felt him smile against your mouth.
"Okay," he breathed. "Good to know."
His fingers found the hem of your dress, but there was still a question in the touch. You answered by reaching for his buttons again, finishing what you had started outside.
His shirt fell open and you let your hands explore, palms flat against warm skin, feeling his breath hitch under your touch.
His hands slid beneath the skirt of your dress, warm and steady against your thighs, fingertips tracing slow lines upward that made you shiver. The fabric bunched around your hips as he explored, palms smoothing over skin, grip tightening when you pulled him closer.
"God," he breathed against your mouth, settling his weight between your legs. You could feel him again, hard and straining against his shorts, pressing right where you needed him. When he rolled his hips, the friction made you both gasp.
Your hands mapped the muscles of his back, nails dragging lightly down his spine, feeling him shudder and press harder against you.
He kissed you like he was drowning, one hand sliding higher under your dress while the other gripped your hip, angling you so he could grind down with more pressure.
โChan,โ you breathed, already desperate, already aching. Your dress was bunched around your hips, legs wrapped around him, and you could feel how wet you were, how ready.
"Yeah?" he murmured against your jaw, lips trailing down your neck. His hand moved between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties, just the lightest touch, and he groaned low in his throat. โFuck, youโre soaked through.โ
The fabric was damp against his fingertips, clinging to you, and the evidence of how much you wanted him made his jaw clench.
"Touch me," you managed. "Please, justโ"
He didnโt make you finish. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, sliding through your wetness, and the first touch of skin on skin drew a moan from you that you couldnโt control. Your hips jerked toward his hand involuntarily.
โShit,โ he breathed, circling slowly at first, gathering your slickness on his fingers. He watched your face, studying every reaction.
His fingers were skilled, confident, applying just the right amount of pressure as he explored. When he found your clit and circled it directly, your fingers dug into his shoulders.
โLike this?โ he asked, voice rough with arousal, adding more pressure and picking up speed.
โYesโgod, yesโโ You could barely form words, pleasure already building embarrassingly fast.
When he slipped one finger inside you, pressing deep, you gasped. Then another finger joined the first, stretching you, and when he curled them just right, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids, your whole body arched off the bed.
โFuck, Chanโright thereโโ
โYeah?โ he murmured, keeping that angle, those fingers curled and pressing exactly where you needed. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.
โYou look so perfect like this,โ he said, almost reverent, thumb finding your clit again while his fingers continued moving inside you. โIโve wanted you for so long.โ
His fingers worked faster now, thumb circling in tight, precise movements while he pumped his fingers in and out, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room.
Your breathing came in short gasps, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.
โThatโs it,โ he encouraged, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. โFuck, Iโ I canโt wait to feel you around my cock.โ
The confession made something twist in your chest. Your hands found his waistband, desperate to feel more of him.
He helped you, shoving his shorts and boxers down just enough to free himself. When your hand wrapped around him, hot and hard and already leaking, he groaned into your mouth, hips jerking forward into your grip.
"Fuck," he choked out. You stroked him slowly, feeling him twitch in your palm, smearing the wetness at his tip with your thumb. His whole body tensed. "WaitโI'm gonnaโwe needโ"
"Where is it?" you finished for him, not letting go.
"Drawer," he managed, reaching over blindly.
While he fumbled for it, you sat up enough to reach for the zipper at the back of your dress. Chan noticed immediately, his hands joining yours, pulling the zipper down slowly. His fingers traced the line of your spine as it was revealed, making you shiver.
You lifted your arms and he helped pull the dress over your head, letting it fall to the floor.
His eyes roamed over you, your flushed skin, the rise and fall of your chest, the way you looked spread out beneath him, and he let out a shaky breath, like the sight of you alone was enough to undo him.
โJesus,โ he muttered, voice thick with want. His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the lace of your bra, then reaching behind you to unhook it with surprisingly steady fingers.
โYouโre incredible,โ he breathed, leaning in to press his lips to your collarbone. The kiss was soft, reverent, a stark contrast to the urgency from moments before. He trailed lower, mouth moving across your chest with deliberate slowness, placing kisses along the swell of your breast.
When his lips finally closed around your nipple, you gasped, the sensation sending a jolt straight through you. Your fingers threaded through his hair instinctively, holding him there, and he hummed against your skin.
His tongue circled slowly, then flicked, before he sucked harder, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch into his mouth.
His hand came up to cup your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak in rhythm with his mouth.
โChanโโ you breathed, tugging at his hair.
The sensation had you squirming beneath him, hips shifting restlessly, seeking friction. Your core ached with need, still throbbing from how close his fingers had brought you earlier.
"Chan, pleaseโ"
He pulled back, grabbing the condom, tearing it open with shaking hands. You watched as he rolled it on, your chest heaving, completely bare beneath him now.
He hooked his fingers in your panties and you lifted your hips so he could pull them down your legs, tossing them aside.
For a second he just looked at you, sprawled beneath him, flushed and wanting and completely his.
"You're sure?" he asked one more time.
"Chan, if you don't fuck me right nowโ"
He kissed you hard, lining himself up, and pushed inside in one slow, steady thrust that had you both gasping into each other's mouths.
The stretch of him filling you completely made your eyes flutter closed, a broken moan spilling from your lips. Chan stilled for a moment, forehead pressed against yours, breathing hard.
"Fuck," he whispered, voice wrecked. "You feelโgod, you feel so good."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, and he groaned, pulling back only to thrust in again, finding a rhythm that had you clutching at his shoulders.
He moved with purpose now, each stroke deliberate and deep, angling his hips until you gasped and he knew he had found the right spot. Then he kept hitting it, over and over, watching your face like nothing else in the world mattered.
"Look at me," he said softly, and you opened your eyes to find him staring down at you with an intensity that made your chest ache. "I want to see you."
You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. The connection between you felt like a live wire, electric and all-consuming.
His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, pinning it gently above your head while his other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he drove into you harder.
"Chanโ" His name came out broken, desperate.
"Fuck," he murmured, kissing you deeply. "I know."
The pleasure built and built, coiling tight in your belly. Your free hand dragged down his back, nails leaving marks you'd both see tomorrow, and he hissed, hips snapping faster.
The room felt suspended in time, just the two of you, the sound of skin against skin, ragged breathing, whispered words that might've been confessions or curses or both.
And thenโฆ
The first firework exploded outside.
The boom rattled the windows, followed by another, then another. Distant screams of joy from the party downstairs, from the neighborhood, people counting down a new year you had both completely forgotten about.
But Chan didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.
Instead, he kissed you like the world was ending and beginning all at once. His mouth moved against yours with a desperation, a passion that stole the breath from your lungs and replaced it with something that felt dangerously close to devotion.
"It's midnight," he breathed against your lips between kisses.
"Don't stop," you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. "Please don't stop."
Something shifted in him at that; permission, encouragement, need.
His grip on your hip tightened, fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks, and he drove into you harder, deeper.
"OhโF-fuck," he groaned, the sound raw and unrestrained.
Your nails dragged down his back again, scratching hard enough that he hissed and somehow moved even faster, chasing something primal between you. The sharp sting only seemed to drive him higher, his breathing ragged against your neck.
"God, yesโI like that," he panted, one hand sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher, changing the angle. The new position made you cry out, louder than before, and you immediately bit your lip.
Chan noticed.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and wild, pupils blown wide. "You can let go," he said, voice rough and strained, barely holding himself together. "No one will hear you over the fireworks."
That made something inside you crack wide open.
You stopped holding back. The next moan tore from your throat freely, unrestrained, and Chan groaned in response, the sound broken and desperate. He kissed you messily, all tongue and teeth, swallowing your sounds like he needed them to breathe.
"That's it," he encouraged, breathless. "Let me hear you."
Your nails raked down his back again, harder this time, and he actually whimpered, a gorgeous, wrecked sound that made you clench around him. His rhythm faltered for just a second before he recovered, fucking into you with renewed intensity.
"You feel so fucking good," he gasped against your mouth. "So perfectโfuckโ"
You were being louder now, completely uninhibited, moaning and gasping with each thrust. It felt freeing, intoxicating, especially when you could see how it affected him, the catch in his breath, the groans he couldn't quite muffle, the muttered curses.
His hand found your clit again and you cried out, back arching off the bed. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building so fast and intense you could barely breathe.
"ChanโI'mโ"
"I know, I can feel it," he panted, circling faster, pressing harder. "Come for me. Please, babygirl, I need to feel youโ"
Hearing Chan calling you babygirl combined with the desperate edge in his voice, pushed you over. You came apart beneath him, crying out his name without caring who heard, nails scratching down his back one more time as your whole body tensed and shattered.
"Oh, fuckโ" Chan's voice broke completely. Your walls clenching around him was too much. He thrust twice more, deep and erratic, before burying himself fully with a groan that sounded almost pained, shuddering as he came.
Chan collapsed against you, carefully shifting his weight. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest. Both of you were breathing hard, skin damp with sweat, limbs tangled together.
โHey,โ he said softly, voice still rough. โYou okay?โ
You tilted your head up to look at him, โIโm more than okay.โ
Relief and something warmer flooded his expression. That dimpled smile appeared, the one that made your chest feel too full.
โGood,โ he murmured, pulling you closer. He was quiet for a moment, just holding you, his thumb stroking your shoulder. Then he laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. โYou knowโฆ thatโs actually everything I asked for this new year.โ
โJust this?โ you teased, trying to keep your voice light even as emotion threatened to overwhelm you.
โJust this,โ he confirmed, kissing your forehead. โJust you.โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
โ
happy 2026, everyone! ๐ซ
โง thank you for reading my stuff!! you can check out my intro + masterlist post to find all my works in one place (note: i write smut fics!) โง want to be tagged when i post? drop your comment in my taglist post
i obviously love them all. but my first skz love and bias was hyunjin! for yearssss.
but then... i saw them live this year. and oh god.
that day seungmin came and stole my heart. right there. with no warning. heโs so freaking charming, you have no idea.
and then a few months after, jisung bias wrecked me SO HARD too. so hard that if you met me in the past few months, youโd probably think heโs my only one.
soโฆ iโve been thinking about why writing has been so hard lately, besides the lack of time.
as you know, english isnโt my first language, and i started writing in english to improve it (which is funny, considering i write smut). and somewhere along the way, that turned me into someone who takes writing very seriously. i reread everything a million times. i want perfect settings, perfect details. and honestly, i love that about me, itโs why iโm proud of what i writeโฆ..
but sometimes i just want to write raw smut. no context. no perfection. and i do write it! but my brain wonโt let me post it because it decides itโs โnot good enoughโ or โnot developed enoughโ or โmissing something.โ
i know iโll never stop writing detailed stories, and i donโt want to stop. i love them. theyโre part of who i am as a writer.
i just hope i can be a little kinder to myself, yk? and maybe, eventually, let other kinds of writing exist too. let things be messy. imperfect. impulsive. posted anywayโฆ
anyway. i managed to bring perfectionism into smut. truly impressive. fucking hell, why am i like this.
But anyways, I just have a question, why does the audio from "Can't Stand Me" not work?
thank you for the love!!!
and oh noooo :( if the audio isnโt working anymore, that usually means the original post or the creatorโs profile got taken down. it wasnโt my audio, so sadly i canโt re-upload it.
but!! if audios are your thing, hereโs a post where i shared some of my fav chan audios!!!
