chan’s hips have been snapping against yours for the latter half of the hour tonight. really, you shouldn’t have done what you did. it was a quick, off handed, self deprecating remark about yourself, and just like that, chan had enough.
he was already feeling on edge from the studio. and now he felt like he failed you to not reassure you enough. that’s how you got yourself here.
you can’t apologize. not because you’re being a brat or doing anything on purpose, but rather because chan has you laid prone on your stomach as his hips feverishly snap against your ass. making it quite literally impossible to reply outside of breathy moans being punched from your lungs. repeated motions that have had you crying into the pillow your face is sunken into.
“c’mon baby, you can do it… say “i’m sorry channie”… f-fuckin’ hell!”
chan’s body slowly comes down onto yours, his chest flush against your back as his arms ensnare around your shoulder. his head drops to the back of yours, his voice a low rasp of heavy breathing. his hips slow to grind against the plush of your ass, rocking and rutting into the wetness of your arousal. his panting turns into a low growl at your refusal.
“pretty girl… sweet baby, say it. say it and i’ll make you cum so good.”
meanwhile, you’re just a mess under him. head turned slightly as his bicep wraps under your chin, hands clawing at his strong arms. eyes bleary and wet with tears from how good it feels every time he quickly bottoms out and fills you so right. the sounds are obscene, salacious squelches as he drags every drop out of you. and you’ll do just the same to him if you keep fluttering around him like that.
“‘m s-sorry, cha— haah— channie! it feels so good, so good, please don’t stop!”
chan smiles to himself as he drags out a moan from his chest, laughing in a way that pinches off at the end in a high whine. his brows furrow and eyes close, slowing his movement down to fuck himself deeper.
“that wasn’t so h-hard now, was it, pretty thing…?” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip to catch himself from drooling down your back. his hands pin your lower back down to the bed, forcing a nasty arch that makes you sob in equal parts relief and overstimulation.
“who’s my good girl, yeah? is that you? am i fucking my good girl stupid right now? huh? m-my beautiful good girl…”
chan’s sentences are punctuated with deep strokes, feeling his pelvis thrust and rock against you in languid motions. his words are overwhelming but that’s what he wants. you were just being so mean to the woman he loves, which is you.
“are you going to keep fighting with yourself or let me fuck you good, gorgeous?” chan heaves out, his chest pressing against your shoulder blades as he kisses into your hair. he ducks his head to lick a stripe up your spine to your neck, and chuckles a moan when he feels how squirmy and whiny you get. your moans are almost sobs from how his plush mushroom tip is kissing against that sensitive spot inside.
“sweetheart,” he drawls out, almost in a singsong voice. “you’re so… very precious… perfect girl, yeah? thank you f-for— fuck— sharing this perfect body.”
those deep strokes are reciprocated with your pussy squeezing him so tight chan swears he might be able to taste the stars. and because chan knows how to elevate your orgasm…
“sh-shit baby, breathe… breathe, just breathe, let it happen babygirl—”
a few inhales and exhales, and chan is wrapping that bicep around to grab your face. he loves that teary look in your eyes, like it feels too good to do anything but cry. your pussy is clenching on him like a vice, the sweet slapping and mixing of fluids…
he can’t help it, chan brings his lips hovering over yours, whispering, “i love you, sweetheart… cum for me.”
there’s a ringing in your ears when it happens, the churning of the knot builds so quick, you don’t even have time to think. chan’s groan bleeds into a whimper the second he feels your tight cunt shudder with shocks, milking him and causing his own release. the hiccuped sobs of moans you release have him praying the walls are thick enough to hide from neighbors. chan wants them all to himself.
he presses as deep as he can to flood you with hot cum, kissing all over your face from tears. your skin is tacky with sweat and stunning in the afterglow. chan runs his hands over your sweat slicked forehead, pushing back anything still sticking to you.
“don’t ever say that stuff again, baby… yeah…? you did such a good job, sweetheart… such a perfect and sweet girl…”
chan smacks a kiss to your temple, laying his weight down on your back. your eyes are already drooping from contentedness while he traces patterns onto your hip. his initials. little hearts. swirls that never end.
“i’m here to protect you from all of that… always.”
—
author's note: well… this is unexpected! thank you for 900 followers i love you guys so much :’) final exams are biting my ass right now
all the things i’ve been seeing about chan’s shoulders got me thinking and going a little feral 😵💫
18+, 18+!! i swear if i need to block another goddamn minor i will go insane.
“Shit baby… feel s’good,” Chan moaned, hips slamming against yours, his low grunts ‘n groans right in your ear. His body completely caging yours, forearms resting on the bed next to your head, head dropped.
Your moans spilled out of your mouth continuously, Chan hitting that spot almost every thrust. Quickly pushing you farther and farther to another orgasm- you’re third just tonight.
The two of yous sounds were obscene
“T-too much!” You managed to get out, your arms tightening around his neck, just to move and scratch his shoulders.
“You can take it angel, i know you can. Been so long since we’ve seen each other, just one more?” Chan gets out through laboured breaths. One of his hands moving to softly hold your head- his form of comfort even as he wrecks you.
You whine at his words, but don’t refuse. Instead tightening your legs hold around his hips and pulling him closer somehow.
The pleasure was so good and overwhelming, you couldn’t handle it. That on top of your embarrassing sounds was too much- you bit his shoulder again. The firm muscles Chans built over the years being perfectly biteable.
“Atta girl,” Chan chuckled, feeling your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hand holding your head ruffling your hair. A fond, unmatching-with-the-scene smile making its way to his face. “You’re adorable.”
꒰ b. chan x fem!reader ꒱
tags: mdni! smut, daddy kink, idol!chan, soft!dom chan, fwb, mention of sexting, sex toys, lube, f. orgasm (multiple), masturbation (m. & f.), somnophilia, clit play, boob play, light choking, slight dirty talk, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, like dubcon at first??
word count: ≈5.3k
m. list ֺ 𓏲𝄢̣̣̥ taglist
wen’s note: like and reblog this if u love skz :3 .ᐟ.ᐟ <3!!! and if u want chan’s bfc (big-fat-c*ck...) down ur throat lmao. bring back daddy chan!!
Chan has been thinking about it for quite some time... and lately it’s all that crosses his mind in the solitude of his nights, when he feels his needs rising and inevitably misses everything about you with a heated-wrenching feeling, he wonders... when was the last time you called him daddy while you were having sex?
It’s almost an automatic thought that he takes refuge in during long, heavy days of pure stress. Rehearsals, filming, traveling, overloaded schedules where he barely has time for himself at night when he just gets to “sleep” in his room... that’s why, when he’s alone, he can only think about human contact with someone other than a coworker or one of the members of his band, and that’s when you inevitably pop into Chan’s mind. Every single detail he already knows about you, like a map by heart.
You text each other quite often, but due to your schedules—especially his—it’s almost impossible for you to see each other. And, although it may sound bad... when he thinks of you, he thinks of sex. Chan is a very energetic and sexual person, and extremely organized, tidy, with clear thoughts; his time counted even when he’s supposed to be resting, so he always tries to organize everything that goes through his mind. He’s straightforward with you—sex and friendship, that’s all he’s looking for in this very busy period of his life; always a good time with you, one kind of time and company he misses madly right now. But he gets a little unhinged when he feels sexually frustrated and stressed—like this precisely moment—, and when night falls, his mind is flooded with images of you, always ready to help each other, relieving each other’s stress, enjoying the sweetest pleasure, your body on top of his or vice versa, the feel of your skin, your femininity, your mouth around him, sucking hard on every ounce of energy he so desperately wants to release.
That’s how you two work. But it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other.
And, clearly, it’s no surprise that he’s been quite frustrated lately. He’s alone; his hand isn’t enough, porn no longer satisfies him. Jeongin, also tired, is always hanging around in the apartment they share, so there’s no privacy. So he just thinks and fantasizes about you, mindlessly scrolling through social media to see what his fans think of him, trying to distract himself with anything he can in the little free time he has, and suddenly the question pops into his head—when was the last time you called him daddy in bed?
The thought is silly and even somewhat amusing at first. Chan must admit that he quite enjoys that little kink a little too much; it makes him feel even more dominant and authoritative. You know it. Everyone knows it. His fans assume it with considerable certainty.
But suddenly the thought is not so lighthearted, and he remembers that it has probably been months since he has enjoyed very dirty sex with you, moaning “daddy” over and over again. Lately, all your encounters have been hot, but normal, no roleplaying, no toys, just both of you using your bodies. But the memories don’t help him at all. He shudders and shifts uncomfortably, clearly aroused every time he relives those moments. He really needs you.
And then, that idea haunts him. He longs for the moment when he can be alone with you and feel you again. He buys you lingerie and new sex toys, and lives with his feelings on the surface, hoping that one day you can both play again just like before.
And that luck comes on a rather random day. Jeongin asks to finish his schedule earlier than expected, all the members agree, and Chan comfortably asks him:
“Are you going to the apartment to rest?”
Jeongin raises an eyebrow at his question, smiling with his typical innocent but mischievous smile, narrowing his eyes, and showing his teeth. He’s up to something, Chan knew it instantly, yet he simply tries to keep the conversation light.
“No. I have plans. I won’t be coming to the dorm today.”
That surprises and excites him a little at the same time.
“Oh yeah? What plans? Outside of schedule, right?”
“Yes, yes. Personal stuff.”
Chan examines him and can’t resist blurting out:
“You got a date? With who?”
“None of your business,” the younger one jokes.
Chan laughs, but doesn’t let his serious side go, always trying to keep up their image in order.
“Be very careful that you don’t get cau...”
“Caught. Yes, I know. I have everything under control.”
And from that moment on, Chan didn’t hesitate for a second to send you a message asking if you could come over to his apartment that night... since Jeongin wouldn’t be there.
Neither of you had plans to see each other so spontaneously, yet you confirmed as soon as you received the message because you knew exactly what it implied and meant. You had been teasing and had been needing each other for a long time.
And that day was no exception. The first thing Chan does after inviting you to his apartment is send you photos of himself at the gym, wearing his tight, slutty tank top, his very muscular and attractive figure on display, his veins showing, his impressive arms looking so deliciously tempting; him telling you that after the gym and taking care of a few things, you can meet up.
You can’t help but get a little turned on, you know how flirtatious he is, but you still fall for it every time. You rush out of work and return the favor—a rather provocative photo after getting out of the shower, telling him you’re getting ready to see him.
Both are incredibly eager to see each other, awakening every sense and desire for one another. However, just when Chan thinks his day at work is over, an unfinished business comes up that he must take care of. He believes it won’t take too long, and between his impatience and desperation, he encourages you, saying that you should go to his apartment anyway and that he’ll be there soon, and then you’ll be able to see each other. To tease you even more, he texts you the following, which makes your skin tingle.
Sweetie, go to my room when you get there
Daddy has a surprise for you
Something we’re going to have fun with later 😉
I can’t wait to see you, baby ㅠㅠ
You understand everything perfectly... It’s been a while since Chan called himself Daddy, and the memories of those times, the feelings still lingering in you, excite you even more. So... it is that kind of encounter.
So you go to his apartment, all dolled up for him. You know the key-code to get in, and you’re immediately embraced by the clean smell of his home. The apartment is spotless, even though Chan travels a lot, quite often, and normally you’d leave your suitcase there, a little mess because you know you’ll be leaving again anyway, but not for Chan. He’s very strict about order and cleanliness.
You walk around his apartment, certainly happy, somewhat skeptical that you are finally there, that at any moment he will walk through that door and you will see each other... you think about what you will do to him... about the small talk you’ll obviously have before even starting anything sexual, catching up on details of each other’s lives that you haven’t mentioned in messages, and finally, you’ll both slowly get closer, letting the tension consume you... and so, your first big desire is to give him head, to suck his cock hard, keeping your body sensitive, excited, your mind, mouth, and hands terribly busy... that’s what you want right now and couldn’t wait for it.
Finally, you head to his room, impatient to see what you might find, but at first glance there was nothing but his perfectly tidy room.
That’s when you let him know you’ve arrived at his room and, somewhat indecisive, you decide to play his little game of seduction, calling him daddy at the end of the message.
Chan’s ears turn red as he reads your message at the company building, then smiles, and quickly replies that you should check his closet and the drawer in the dresser next to his bed. You obey him and are surprised to see a box of pink lingerie and a drawer full of new vibrators and dildos. Your reaction is to let out a little laugh as you think about how perverted he has become with you, but impatience returns as you realize once again that he would continue with the game, his undeniable daddy kink, his dominant and authoritative side. And then you come up with the great idea of waiting for him, already wearing the lingerie, even though you already had a cute set on under your clothes.
And again, you start teasing Chan. You send him provocative photos of yourself wearing the lingerie from the best possible angles, lying on his bed, selfies in his mirror, saying how much you miss your daddy and want him to be right there with you.
On the other hand, Chan can’t do anything but swallow nervously and tense up when he sees your photos, pretending to look at something on his phone.
But, unfortunately, the first few hours pass, and Chan hasn’t arrived at his apartment; he’s stuck in that last-minute meeting. You both start to get frustrated and bored.
You think that maybe it wasn’t the right time to see each other, plus you’re tired from your long day at work. So, you’re about to take a sweet nap in his bed, surrounded by his masculine scent and perfectly clean sheets, still wearing lingerie... when your intrusive thoughts take over—what if you masturbate?
You’re slightly overwhelmed, physically tired from the stress and work you’ve been carrying all week, but at the same time, you’re excited, not only sexually, but also knowing that you would release stress and be pleased by Chan, and just horny. Missing him, missing the idea of exactly how he fucks you, which now seems so far away, given the hours that have passed, and he’s not even on his way home.
You lazily pick up the vibrator and a dildo and, with a resigned sigh, still slightly embarrassed, lying on his bed, you take off your panties, open your legs, and press the vibrator against your clit. The sensation is not long in coming; you are so sensitive, so aroused that you let out a soft moan as the toy does its job. You move gently in his soft sheets, your pelvis wiggles, and you lightly massage your breasts... thinking exactly about him, the way he does it, and how he touches you. You gently press the toy harder against your sensitive spot, enduring the gentle pain and overstimulation it is becoming. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, close your eyes, enduring as long as your body can take it, until having your first orgasm, your muscles throbbing and your femininity already lubricated. You quickly turn off the vibrator and enjoy the small orgasm for the remaining seconds, staring at the ceiling.
But climaxing alone leaves you feeling even emptier. And Chan’s sudden message, which notification sounds alarms you at just the right moment, gives you a very good and dirty idea.
Chan apologizes again for not arriving yet. And you, without any remorse, send him a short video—lying on his bed, you show your face, slightly flushed with embarrassment, and your still blossoming and intense arousal from your recent orgasm. You bite your lip subtly, and the camera on your phone slowly pans down, capturing your breasts in that lingerie, your hand sensually moving down your body until it reaches your pussy. You record it directly and explicitly, your wet, throbbing pussy, spread your lips for him, and then you proceed to record how your entrance expands so that the dildo slides inside you. You moan softly and penetrate yourself only twice, and the video cuts off to send it to Chan.
i really miss u, daddy 😔
come over quick
im touching myself already
thinking of u
im waiting
You masturbated a couple more times, ignored Chan’s messages, and got distracted for a few minutes. You came twice, left the dildo coated with your wet pussy, and suddenly you stopped. You’re exhausted, partially satisfied, but satisfied nonetheless, and you feel too lazy to get up and clean up the little mess you’ve made. You put the toys aside, close your eyes, and your body unconsciously relaxes completely, leaving you pathetically asleep in a peaceful, deep, and pleasant sleep.
Meanwhile, Chan opens his eyes in surprise as soon as he plays the video. He is grateful that no one is next to him and that he is wearing an AirPod, so he watches the video, completely flustered the first time, and then repeats it with his heart racing and appreciates the details. The exquisite image of what he should have been satisfying himself with long ago if he weren’t stuck in a meeting, your sweet moans directly into his ear, and the soft sound of your wet pussy when you touch it and insert the toy into yourself... Chan swallows nervously, clears his throat, and feels his cock harden. He has to get out of there and see you as soon as possible; he can’t stand it for another second. If the meeting went on any longer, he would have to interrupt it for a quick bathroom break and jerk off right there, given how horny and needy he’s getting.
It’s already quite late by the time Chan finally arrives home, slightly worried and embarrassed that he’s kept you waiting, that because of him the plan hasn’t worked out as you both hoped. Not to mention that he hasn’t heard from you since you sent him that video. He doesn’t know if you’re angry because he was late, if you’ve left, although he realizes you’re still there when he sees your shoes in the foyer.
Chan smirks as he approaches you, resigned to the fact that tonight’s plans are ruined because he refuses to wake you up, and he’s a little tired himself. So his next thought is that he’ll take a shower and lie down next to you, see what tomorrow brings for you two. However, that tender perception he had of you vanishes when he’s only a few feet away, getting a better look at you. His smile fades gently, and he carefully examines every inch of you. You are asleep on your side, your hands cushioning your cheek, your butt slightly raised, naked from the waist down, panties and used sex toys carelessly tossed aside in contrast to your angelic appearance.
His jaw tenses because, despite being tired, he has been holding back his desires for quite some time... and seeing you like this, so innocently provocative in a position that only worsens his dirty thoughts and deep lust, doesn’t help.
Chan takes a step back, restraining himself, before losing himself in the curves of your figure that lead to your exposed vulnerability, analyzing it in detail, leaving him like a pervert who memorizes and watches the speed at which you breathe while you sleep.
He decides to get in the shower, trying to calm down, hoping the water will lower his arousal, but it seems almost impossible; he feels completely uncomfortable as he feels his erection rise again, this time fully erect, hard and firm, as if he had taken a pill to achieve the perfect state of firmness.
He sighs in frustration and grabs himself, trying to masturbate with the water falling on his body... but it just felt so wrong, the friction of his hand, his attempt to pull it, wasn’t satisfying him. He didn’t want his hands, or to do it himself, let alone when the image of you is engraved in his mind, sleeping so peacefully and half-naked, or the image of touching yourself, waiting for him. He couldn’t help it; you are there, lying on his bed like a helpless sleeping beauty.
He finishes showering, awkwardly putting on his underwear as his member is sensitive and the fabric rubs against it. Chan stands there, in front of his bed, watching you occupy a sweet space on it. He thinks his erection will go away, that he’ll take a deep breath and just focus on sleeping... but he’s just so fucking horny right now. He’s even shirtless because of how hot his body temperature feels.
Chan didn’t want to do it, but he does it anyway, looking at you again, even more closely; he’s surprised that his noise didn’t wake you up. You must be fast asleep, and it seems that you are indeed. Unlike when he found you, you’ve moved a little; one of your legs is still bent, while the other is stretched out. You’re still sleeping on your side... and your pussy is still exposed, looking so appetizing. All of you. He doesn’t think he can hold out that long, not with you like this.
He sighs in frustration once more, wondering what he should do. Wake you up and immediately confess that he wants sex? Chan didn’t want to complicate things further, so he takes the lubricant, pulls down his shorts and underwear, and begins to masturbate with the image of you on your back, ass round and up for him, lips sweetly together.
He puts lubricant on his hand and starts from the tip, moving down to his swollen length. He bites his lip and throws his head back for a second, his breathing and pulse quickening. There is a certain guilt in his conscience, as he is like a pervert, jerking off his cock, trying not to moan loudly, touching himself in front of the image of you asleep.
Still, he can’t help himself. The lubricant slides deliciously over his very erect cock. He tightens his grip, watches you, and imagines that it’s your tight pussy, that you‘re there for him, taking his size inside you, moaning, writhing, and asking for more and more in your sweet voice.
But you have no idea what’s going on around you. You’re comfortably asleep. Meanwhile, Chan is struggling to come, holding back his grunts, breathing deeply, masturbating harder, the room filling with the sound of his hand satisfying his penis and desire... yet he feels like something is missing for him to come, and it bothers him to know exactly what it is. He wants to have you.
Would it be inappropriate to touch you? You woke him up before with your mouth on his cock... could he return the favor for the first time?
He doesn’t think twice and acts almost on impulse. He thinks that if you wake up, he might be able to slowly and gently persuade you to do it, and if not... at least he could touch or caress you, since he can’t resist any longer. Chan carefully lies down next to you, behind you. You feel a slight weight beside you, but you remain asleep, unaware of what is surrounding you. Chan breathes in your scent and observes you intently, from your hair to every detail of your relaxed body, breathing calmly.
But having you even closer makes it harder for him to control himself. He can appreciate in greater detail how sweetly wet you still are, your entrance glistening slightly. And yes, you drifted off an hour ago, body still warm and slick from your earlier touches, hips tingling, thighs slightly parted, every curve alive with sensitivity. You had anticipated Chan touching you.
He can’t resist, and his hand slides carefully down your hip, at first brushing against you with the utmost delicacy, barely even touching you. You feel a soft tickling sensation, and your body reacts by twitching slightly. Chan pulls his hand away and waits a few seconds, but you remain asleep, so he continues, moving closer to you. His caresses remain delicate, but soon become persistent and present. His hand moves from your waist to your hip, where he traces slow, teasing circles, and a shiver runs through you unconsciously. Your back arches slightly, and your skin gently brushes Chan’s exposed, sensitive cock, which throbs intensely and makes him moan softly.
At that point, Chan believes that once again he cannot endure, besides he conveniently finds it very difficult to masturbate and touch you at the same time in that position, and his impulses and desires once again whisper and suggest ideas to him, such as simply sliding into you, fucking you gently while you sleep without interrupting your rest, and, if he does, wakes you up, he’d just justifying himself.
His heart races, but somehow he believes that this is the only way he can release all his tension and sexual frustration—by finally taking you.
He convinces himself that it will only be this once, that if it bothers you, he will stop, and that in the best-case scenario, you won’t even notice. He would be very careful.
He had been ignoring the thought, but it was more than clear that it simply turned him on to see you lying there, peacefully asleep, and that he could fuck you carefully, almost like a secret. A naughty, risky act.
It was something so daring that it really got him going right now. So he does it that way, slowly, stealthily, and carefully; he positions his body, holds his cock, his hands almost trembling from how energetically nervous he is. The silence in the room is quite loud in a way, and in his mind, he just repeats over and over, do it, do it.
Chan rubs his glans, coated in precum, against your slick folds and entrance. He moans softly and closes his eyes because he can still feel the warmth of your intimacy and finally he presses against you from behind, the warmth of both sexes connecting, his member gliding easily into your already wet insides, and the effect of his already well-lubricated cock. He lets out a needy and ragged sigh, every muscle in his body contracting at the most delicate and simple action. He waits for a reaction from you, but at first, there is none. Chan had never been this careful with you before; he was barely just adjusting himself inside.
Gently, he pushes himself a little further, still without touching you, watching closely as your pussy subtly stretches to make space for him. His tip rests at your entrance and stays there, secure and warm, superficially inside you, but incredibly satisfying enough to begin delicately provoking his collapse. Chan thinks for a moment that just the tip, he’d do his best to fuck you like that, playing with it and with your cunt delicately, just enough to come and not wake you up, as to what would happen if he tried to penetrate you. However, you react unconsciously, causing an exasperated growl to escape from him, fueling his desire to simply put it all in without a second thought; your hips tilt instinctively, adjusting to him better, inches below just his glans, you arch your back, and your thighs tighten to almost guide him.
It’s even better than he had imagined. The idea of fucking you like this fills him completely with a wild and almost uncontrollable urge. Even so, he remains still, his muscles tensing tighter, the rest of his length throbbing with the same intensity as his heartbeat. There’s something twisted and so hot about doing it in the dark, hiding, even from you.
Chan bites his lower lip hard, checking to see if you’re still asleep, and you are. He dares to touch you again, his hand resting on your hip as he tries to slide even deeper inside you, slowly and gently, watching for your every reaction. He controls and contains his moans of pleasure, at the same time refraining from pushing too far into you, as he thinks it’s impossible for you not to feel his swollen cock suddenly slip inside you.
Soon, part of his cock is embraced by the warmth, wetness, and tightness of your pussy, ready but completely relaxed. Even so, as you both feel it, your muscles and body react on their own, you gently arch your back more, your thighs move with a very provocative impatience, you hum sweetly—unaware, confusing, moving your torso a little, and, best of all for Chan, your pussy prepares itself, adapting to him, throbbing gently as you feel him.
Chan tries to move, penetrating you delicately in a sweet back and forth motion, pulling out a little but not completely—his cock teases the surface of your entrance and then slides back into you, just a few, but very significant inches below his glans, light enough but intense to make his shaft throb and gently squeeze his already swollen veins, of his entire arousal that erects every sense of him.
He continues like that, his hand holding your hip without pressing hard, every muscle tense, almost whimpering and sweating from the indescribable sensation that brings him to his imminent climax. Your body reacts to him, to each of his delicate thrusts, spreading your walls, getting wetter for him due to the constant action and friction, making you slick and ready, shivering slightly as warmth takes over your femininity and controls each gentle pulsation, getting you used to him. Meanwhile, tiny, soft breaths escape without awareness, your face remains calm, eyes closed, utterly unaware of what’s happening.
Chan caresses you without losing his rhythm, completely blinded by the overwhelming, pumping and electrifying sensation that runs passionately through his veins and every corner of his body. His knuckles and fingertips skim your skin, from your thighs to your bare arm. He thinks you look so angelic like this, breathing deeply, moving your body as you try to adapt to whatever you’re feeling; with every movement that makes your hips press back, thighs clench, the subtle lift of your hips, spine arching, and soft, unthinking moans escape. Your body pulses instinctively around him with each deliberate thrust, quivering and tightening Chan, whose body is desperately begging to reach orgasm.
He continues, slow and deliberate, letting your body’s natural rhythm dictate the pace because he doesn’t want to wake you up. And he thinks he can control himself, and he does for a good while, until he feels his orgasm building slowly, pleasantly, and a little painfully.
Chan loses himself for a moment, the tense muscles in his thighs begin to tremble, even though he has been trying to maintain the best possible position, in addition to his impending climax. He whimpers, closes his eyes tightly as he sighs and moans softly, “fuck, f-fuck,” feeling pleasantly overwhelmed. His grip on your hips tightens, and he unconsciously lets himself go deeper into you.
And, for you, right there it becomes inevitable not to feel it, all of him and the act, the heaviness and warmth of his figure behind you, his hand holding you, and the constant tingling pulsation in your pussy that you know so well, but which takes you completely by surprise as you slowly regain consciousness.
Your eyes open slowly, and you’re a little startled at first. Your heart races, and your senses become alert as you feel him pressing inside you with more intensity.
You know it’s him, but you’re still confused, so the first thing you say is:
“Ch-Channie?”
But he doesn’t stop, because he feels so close, right at the peak of his pleasure, excited in complete bliss. He leans close and murmurs warmly against your ear:
“Shh… shhh… it’s okay, baby, you can stay still, daddy’s gonna cum in your pretty pussy, my princess.”
You swallow nervously and blink suddenly. His soft, rough tone of voice makes you shiver, and your mind starts to catch up with the sensations your body has already known.
Chan takes advantage of the fact that you’ve woken up and abruptly moves his body closer, pushing his firm cock deeper into you, and begins to massage your breasts, holding you with a strength that only he can control. Fighting him is futile, even though you think that’s not exactly what you want right now.
“Cha-n,” you whimper.
You are still in a gentle state of confusion, but you are starting to get excited by feeling helpless, trapped by his strong grip, his cock burying itself deep into your already very wet pussy. You don’t know when you got like this, but you simply love that your body has accepted it.
“Should I stop, princess?” he adds in a sultry sigh.
You come back to your senses, although Chan’s big cock inside you numbs you as you revel in pleasure and a subtle burning sensation. You whimper as you try to adapt to his faster rhythm, to his cock deep inside you, stretching and pushing you from within.
You shake your head frantically and your mind fills with so many things you want to do, move impatiently, look at his face, appreciate his new haircut that you haven’t seen, kiss him… but you limit yourself to the immediate sensations, responding with a soft moan:
“No-no, daddy, please, keep going—don’t stop.”
“Good girl. It’s okay, I knew you’d take daddy’s cock very well. I know you like it when I fuck you like this—with daddy waking you up inside you, huh, isn’t that right?”
Chan presses his body against yours, thrusting deeply and somewhat roughly, skin colliding, the sounds of your excited bodies joining together, you can barely adapt.
“Fu-ck-daddy, it’s too much!” you moan.
Chan shudders when he hears your sweet moans and that little nickname and game of domination coming from your lips.
“It’s okay. My princess can take it, right?”
“Y-yes, daddy!”
You’re very easy to arouse, especially when it comes from him, and in the surprising, sensitive, and anticipatory state you were in. You were practically ready for him. You watch his pale hand with his protruding veins massage your breasts and then descend to your clit where he indulges in playing with it. You writhe with pleasure and impatience, overwhelmed and breathless.
“Stay still, baby. Let daddy take care of you, okay? I owe it to you, my sweetheart, after making you wait so long that you had to touch yourself.”
You obey him. Chan moans in your ear as he penetrates you hard. His arm slides beneath your face and takes complete control of your body, holding your neck gently.
“I bet you enjoyed your new little toys, but nothing like daddy filling your little pussy with his cum, baby girl.”
You feel his cock twitching inside you, and, followed by a soft whimper, he fills you with his warm semen. However, he doesn’t stop, he continues to thrust into you during his orgasm, his hand on your throat and caressing your sensitive spot with the other. You become more tense and impatient, he knows how close you are too.
“Cum, cum for me, princess, oh fuck—yes! Do it. Cum on daddy’s cock.”
And you release yourself. Cumming shakely for him in a breathless whimper.
Chan slows the pace of his thrusts until he stops, releases his grip, his hand moves from your clit to embrace your waist, and lets you both feel the pulsing intimacy of each other after your orgasm. He sighs and plants a warm kiss behind your ear.
“You did very well, sweetheart. Sleep again, you can rest with my cock inside you.”
genre: smut!! minors will be hunted for sport
contains: drabbles – you and each member desperately need each other but are so so tired :(
wc: 4k (~ 500 each)
♡ note: a reupload. i'll say it until the end of time, but i'm incredibly, freakishly grateful for the love the original series received <3
divider by @lariesographic / my masterlist
CHAN
Any reasonable person would be sleeping at this hour. You were asleep before Chan woke you, visibility exhausted and desperate for relief. He climbs into bed and presses himself into your back, large hands reaching around to your inner thighs. “Please, pretty girl, just let me do something, anything,” he whispers against your skin.
He rarely says what he needs so plainly, even rarer that he’s willing to beg. You can’t deny him, especially not when he grazes his fingers over your clit just to hear you gasp.
The room is dark, the only light flickering in from the moonlight and a bedside lamp he switched on. In his eyes, you’re glowing, always so perfect for him. Shadows dance across his chest as you move.
He lets out a content sigh as you sink down onto him. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers almost inaudibly. He clenches his jaw, like he’s trying so hard to keep still. You pause once he’s fully inside, taking your time to adjust to his size.
He props himself up on his elbows, unable to stop himself from staring at where he disappears inside of you. Slowly, experimentally, you roll your hips. His mouth falls open at the movement. A small amount of sweat already causes his biceps to glisten in the low light. You moan, and his eyes snap up to admire your blissed expression.
You keep grinding, feeling him hit the perfect spot inside you, clit brushing against him with every motion. Fuck, he’s so good for you. You chase your high by speeding up ever so slightly. He grips your waist and sets a slower pace himself. “ - Gonna kill me,” he whimpers, “Not gonna last.”.
He can’t help himself - he thrusts once up into you, still moving your hips. You let out a choked moan, eyes squeezing shut. He can see how weak you are - sleepiness and pleasure finally overtaking you. He takes the opportunity to sit up and hold you against his chest. You never stop your motions.
The new angle has his cock reaching deeper inside. He feels you squeeze tighter, and his head falls to your shoulder. He’s done for when you breathe his name like it’s the only thing you remember. He needs you to come with him, needs you to feel just as good as he is.
He reaches between your thighs and rubs small circles on your clit. A few more delicious motions, and both of your highs hit you together. He lets out a final moan, lightly biting your skin in an attempt to be quiet, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. You try to ride out your own pleasure, but falter, his name falling from your lips as his fingers stay on your clit.
He keeps holding you against him, giving you both time to catch your breath. Eventually, he chuckles quietly and softly kisses your neck. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs. He falls back with you into the mattress, whispering his praises until you fall asleep again.
MINHO
The entire world has faded to just you two in his hotel room. Minho’s sighs and flustered groans ring in sync with your heavenly grinds. His upper back is pressed against the headboard. It must be uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem to even know where he is right now. Usually he’s a lot more composed than this. Usually, he wouldn’t just let you climb on his lap, tease your tongue down his neck, whisper how good he’s being in his ear. However, his muscles are heavy after performing, and you looked so sweet asking, of course he gave in to you.
The view of you is enough to draw out an unhurried smile that reveals his bunny teeth. His gleaming eyes search yours – intent on mentally cataloguing everything about this moment. That focus doesn’t last long. All it takes is one more small bounce, one more of your barely-contained gasps, and his head lolls backwards. His eyelids shutter halfway closed, but he never stops watching you. You’re squeezing around him perfectly, and you’re so warm in his arms, fuck, he can’t remember why you don’t do this more often.
You’re beautiful like this. Moaning for him. Full of him. Giving everything to him, just as he gives everything to you. “C’mere,” he murmurs before pulling you further into his embrace. He kisses you, slow and sensual, absorbing your sounds as you keep rocking on him. His cock drags along your fluttering walls with every movement. Still working his lips against yours, he brings his hand down between your bodies to circle your clit in time with your grinds. As if reading the other’s mind, both of you speed up at once, chasing both your highs.
Eventually, you have to pull away to breathe. “Minho,” you pant, gripping your nails into his shoulders, “Minho, feelsogood.”
His cock twitches in you. His name, lovely and melodic, falling from your lips alone is almost enough to send him over the edge. Combined with your warm cunt pulling him in and the slight pain digging into his shoulders, he’s so close. He can tell you are too; your motions are starting to falter as heat builds inside you. His free hand holds your waist steady, helping guide you through the motions.
Another roll of your hips. Another gorgeous moan. “Baby, fuck,” is all the warning he can give. He groans your name, his grip tightens around you, and you feel the familiar warmth inside you. His orgasm triggers your own. Overwhelming pleasure washes over your body with Minho still circling your clit in an attempt to help work you through it.
After a few seconds, the stimulation gets too much. He chuckles as you gently swat his hand away from your core. Still his lap, he straightens his positioning to get even closer to you. “Come back,” he whispers, connecting your lips again, holding you as you melt into him.
CHANGBIN
How could he ever resist his princess, laying in his bed like she knows she belongs there?
You knew what he wanted the moment he crawled back beside you. He didn’t bother putting clothes back on after his post-gym shower. The scent of his body wash surrounds you, cozily tucked into the blankets. His damp hair is still slightly clinging to his skin. He leans in and gently kisses your shoulder. “G’morning,” he whispers against your skin.
You kiss him in response. His groan is stifled in your mouth, but his arms wrap around your waist and easily shift you on top of him. You giggle at the sudden show of strength, matching his own smile at finally being able to feel you. He missed you so badly.
He adjusts your hips slowly, giving you time to stop him if you want. You don’t. He moans as you sink down onto him, whispering “Fuck, princess,” into the cool air. “You don’t know what you do to me”. His head falls backwards onto the pillow. You take him so well. You pause, adjusting to his size, and his hands tighten on your hips, like he’s trying to contain himself.
You sit up to straddle him and finally move, dragging your hips once back and forth. He bites back a gasp. God. He’s deep inside you now. You’re gorgeous on top of him. Even when you’re still sleepy, chasing your pleasure, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
Underneath you, his muscles glow in the morning light. He’s heartbreakingly gentle with his touches, like he’s conscious of his own strength even like this. He almost loses it when you meet his eyes and smile back, so so perfect for him.
Another roll of your hips. His cock slowly drags against your walls at your relaxed pace, and he’s no longer trying to hide his sounds. You speed up ever so slightly, chasing your own high. His eyes squeeze shut. Curses and pretty moans fall from his lips the more you keep going, the more you keep perfectly squeezing around him.
You’re lost in him. Every motion brings you closer. He’s filling you perfectly, and your clit grazes him at every movement. You lean forward, anchoring your arms on his chest for support “Baby, fuck,” you breathe out, and his eyes snap open again to check on you.
He groans at the sight - he can’t help it. You look wrecked for him. He’s not going to last. He needs you to come with him, fuck, he’s already holding back.
You feel him start rubbing lazy circles on your clit in rhythm with your pace. Your choked cry is music to his ears. His other hand catches you when you slump forward, not able to support yourself anymore. “I know, princess,” he groans, voice as wrecked as you feel. “I know, I’ve got you.”
Pressed against his chest, your release washes over you. He tries to keep rubbing your clit, his fingers faltering from the feeling of being squeezed tighter as yours continues. His own high hits him, and he moves his hand up to hold you as you feel the familiar warmth inside you.
He doesn’t let go afterwards. You’re laying on him, wrapped in his arms, and he swears he’s in heaven. “Let’s just stay here,” he whispers, “for a little bit longer.” You nod against him. He has no intention of moving anytime soon.
HYUNJIN
The only sounds in the room are your intertwined moans and the creak of the bedframe, matching the steady rhythm of your grinds against him. Sleepiness still lingers in the air, but right now, you each want to make the other feel good. “That’s my girl - fuck,” he moans from below you. Tiny amounts of sweat clings his hair to his skin. His hands grip your waist, not bruising, just guiding. “You feel so good - always s’good for me.”
He fills you up so well. The angle has him hitting the perfect spot, and your clit brushes against him with every grind. Every movement brings you closer to your release.
You roll your hips slowly, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He sucks in a sharp breath. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. A whine escapes his lips, eyes quickly darting to yours to check if you heard it.
Of course you did. You smile back down at him and repeat the motion, enjoying the view of his head falling back as he stifles another whine. One hand drops from your waist to cling to the rumpled bedsheets, like he’s holding himself back.
Another roll of your hips. His cock pushes further in, causing your knees to weaken from pleasure. You whimper, “Hyunjin, baby -”
“I know, I’ve got you,” he breathes, and brings his hands up to support your weight. You let your body slump forward, leaning your arms against his chest as you try to keep your rhythm. His gaze lingers on your breasts, swaying as you move.
Your pace falters more with each delicious grind, your high quickly approaching. He feels your walls clench around him and he knows you won’t last much longer. Neither will he. He needs you to come with him, but fuck, he’s already almost there.
His eyes clench tight, one of his signs that he’s close. “Baby, please,” he begs, for nothing specifically and everything at once. He grabs your hand and guides it to your clit, choking on a sob as he watches you rub small circles in rhythm with your pace.
Your orgasms overtake you at once. His name falls from your lips over and over, like a prayer, as waves of pleasure wash over you. He groans as he spills familiar warmth deep inside you.
Afterwards, you lean forwards, laying on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair, pausing every so often to kiss the top of your forehead. He whispers, “I love you,” against your forehead. Eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, still tangled in each other.
HAN
Everyone else is asleep. He should be quiet. He should stop moaning. However, he’s buried deep inside his pretty girl, and he wouldn’t notice if the world ended right now. You’re on his lap, kissing down his neck, driving him insane. He angles his head to give you more space, and moans even louder as you take advantage of it.
You shift your weight, pushing him deeper inside you. Your head falls forward onto his shoulder. Everything about him - his scent, his touch, him - invades your senses. He’s brushing the perfect spot, and you’re not even moving yet. Like he’s reading your mind, he slightly squeezes your hips, his fingers digging into where they rest.
His eyes are big behind his glasses. His chest rises and falls with how heavily he’s breathing.
You rotate your hips, enjoying the view of his eyes rolling back into his skull. You moan in tandem - the sensation is too delicious for you to stop now. You repeat your motions. His high-pitched whine only spurs you forward, chasing the sensation of his cock hitting deep inside you again and again. His nails dig deeper into your skin. Already, the pain mixed with pleasure is almost too much.
He’s not doing much better. Each time you moan his name brings him closer to the edge. He needs you to finish before him. He moves his hand to grip your inner thigh, thumb barely brushing your clit. He looks up at you, tears shining in his eyes. “Can I, please?” he breathes out.
You nod so fast your vision slightly blurs.
“thankyouthankyouthankyou”
Then he’s pressing slightly harder, rubbing lazy circles while staring intently at where he’s connected to you. His glasses fall slightly down his nose. He doesn’t care.
Fuck. Your movements get sloppier as the pleasure builds. His bedframe scrapes against the wall as you speed up. He’s incapable of forming words, just babbling half-sentences of praise. “Fuck, baby - so good for me - please - fucking please,” spills out.
He can feel how close you are with how you clench around him. He just needs to hold on for a bit longer. He keeps rubbing your clit, and lifts himself up to kiss you. His lips work against yours, hoping he can convey his passion through it.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your moans grow in volume as you try to ride it out. He never stops rubbing your clit. His own follows closely behind yours, spilling deep inside you. He breaks the kiss to repeat your name like a prayer.
You fall against his chest, both of you panting as you come down. His arms engulf you and squeeze you tighter against him. “Thank you,” he whispers against your cheek. Reluctantly, he moves you off his lap and ensures you’re comfortable laying against him. You two stay like that, holding each other, until you both drift off to sleep.
FELIX
His deep moans amplify the lust residing in the air. The only light comes from his long-forgotten PC, the abandoned login screen illuminating you two on his bed. Felix forgot the game exists. Right now, he’s just focused on trying to control himself as you roll your hips on top of him.
You’re in his arms, making out with him, running your fingers through his long hair. You’re always so perfect for him. Always his ethereal angel. He’s already lost in you, and you’ve barely started. As you continue your slow movements, he breaks your kiss to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, whispering, “so, so beautiful,” almost to himself. His cock twitches just from your resulting sweet smile.
You take your time, enjoying every inch of him. Your clit brushes against him with every movement. Your quiet moans are the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. He would stay here listening to you forever, if you let him.
He’s vaguely aware he has a roommate on the other side of the wall, but that awareness is waning by the second. It’s gone completely when you speed up, chasing the feeling of him hitting deep inside you. He lets out a choked groan. His abs flex with restraint, like he’s holding himself back.
Curses mixed with your name spill from his lips. One hand gently lands on your inner thigh, then travels over to your clit, rubbing small circles in rhythm with your motions. Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely focused on your building pleasure.
“Look at me, angel,” his low voice breathes out. “Please.” Of course you do, and fuck, he looks divine. His freckled cheeks twinge pink. His long hair falls messily over his shoulders. He holds your gaze and sighs, “That’s my girl.”
You clench around him at the praise, and he swears he sees heaven for a moment. His head falls back into the pillow behind him as he keeps babbling, “Feels so good - always s’good - angel, fuck.” A few more motions, and you weaken from the sensations, leaning forward to steady yourself on his chest. Your combined moans fill the room.
God, he’s so close, but he needs you to come with him. His fingers speed up on your clit, rubbing faster circles as he revels in your noises. Your highs hit together. He moans even deeper as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your hips falter on him as you try to ride out your waves of pleasure. He works you through it, still babbling out his love for you.
Afterwards, he wraps his arms around you once more, pressing you into his bare chest. “Thank you, angel,” he whispers into your hair. He holds you against him, wrapped up in his sheets and each other, until you both drift off to sleep.
SEUNGMIN
Seungmin could not care less about the rest of his members going about their nightly routines outside his door. Why would he, when you’re in his arms, making out with him, slowly rolling your hips like you have all the time in the world. You do, as far as he’s concerned. He never rushes with you if he can help it.
Your hands are laced in his hair, absentmindedly twirling some longer strands between your fingers. He moans at the sensation every so often. Right now, he would do anything if it meant you would stay in his bed, making him feel so good he’s about to start seeing stars. Your lips are so soft against his, and he’s fitting wonderfully inside you - squeezing like you are perfectly made for him.
You pause your movements for a moment, and he actually whines. He pulls away from the kiss to steady his breathing. His efforts are futile - his breaths quickening again when you sit up, him still inside you, and graze your fingers over his chest. The new angle is pushing him in deeper than he was before. He moans your name and leans his head back into the pillows beneath him.
You resume your motions, feeling every inch of his cock hitting deep inside you. He genuinely might lose it from the sight alone. His hands rub up and down on your thighs, trying to feel as much of you as possible. He can’t help himself - moaned snippets of praise spill out of his mouth faster than he can register his own words. “Fuck, baby - so good - oh my god - you’re beautiful,” is just part of what you’re able to catch.
Your clit brushes against him with every grind. The sensation is delicious, paired with Seungmin’s whimpering voice and him staring up at you like you’re a goddess, you’re not going to last. He’s not either - he’s babbling more with each passing second. From below you, he stares up, suddenly looking more desperate. “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers, and thrusts lightly up into you.
You weaken from it, leaning forward onto him. He takes advantage of the position to kiss you again. “I’m yours,” you whisper against his lips.
That does it. His head falls forward into your shoulder, whining softly again, as you feel the familiar warmth inside you. Your own orgasm follows quickly afterwards, pleasure washing over you, your pace faltering as you try to ride it out.
For a few moments, neither of you move. He rubs small circles on your back as he attempts to recover from the slight overstimulation. Eventually, you begin to get off him, only to be met with him lightly grabbing you, keeping you in place. “Don’t,” he murmurs, “please.”
JEONGIN
He’s most beautiful in the quiet moments. He’s ethereal always, but there’s something about the unguarded version of Jeongin, with messy hair, easy smiles, and holding you close like he can’t fathom ever letting you slip away, that always gets you needing more. Outside, the low hum of others in the same space filters through the bottom of his door, but they might as well be lightyears away for all the attention Jeongin pays them. It’s easy to forget that anyone else exists. It’s easy to revel in each other, barriers shed, until every stress, every thought vanishes.
You pull away from the kiss first, Jeongin’s eyes still closed and moving to follow after you, a line of spit that should be much more obscene than it actually is connecting the two of you. “Can’t wait anymore,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “Please,” he adds, “just want you.” Underneath you, his flannel pajama bottoms tent seemingly painfully. You’re not doing much better.
“Anything for you,” you breathe, intended as teasing, but it comes out more like an admission. Regardless, it has the desired effect, a strangled groan leaving him as he shimmies out of his clothes with record-breaking speed.
Your moans intertwine as you sink down onto him. You’ve done this countless times, and will be in this position countless more, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the delicious pressure in the first few seconds. He knows this, too, if his barely-contained smug expression is anything to go by. It vanishes when you roll your hips, feeling his cock deep inside you. His forehead falls forward onto your shoulder, his hair tickles your collarbone. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck,” he groans into your skin, “you’re so good at that.” As if to accentuate his point, he can’t contain a sharp inhale as your movements speed up.
Like mirror images of each other, the cockiness on your face is wiped away as his fingers find your clit to rub small circles in sync with your grinds. Raising his head again, his gleaming eyes search yours, soaking in your pleasure as much as he can. He can’t help himself; he thrusts up once, smiling again at your gasp. He pulls you in to kiss you again, lips working against yours, only broken by the moans escaping both of you.
Your movements falter the more your pleasure builds. Jeongin notices. Of course he does – he notices everything about you. His fingernails dig into where they rest on your hip, surely leaving crescents to discover in the morning, and without breaking rhythm, he takes over setting the pace himself.
It doesn’t take long with Jeongin fitting perfectly inside you, his fingers circling your clit, his lips heated against yours. Your release washes over you with a cry of his name. He keeps moving you, keeps touching you, to help you ride it out. A few more motions, and he follows, your name falling from his lips.
A few moments pass. He holds you pressed against his chest as you both catch your breath, Eventually, you move to get off him, but his grip only tightens, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Stay here with me,” he whispers.
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ɞ . abstract. they’re used to sharing their lives with the world, but they aren't interested in sharing you. eight times the members reminded a stranger exactly where the line was drawn.
ɞ . warnings / tags. fluff. suggestive. jealous!skz. established relationship. possessive & territorial behavior. intimidation of others. unwanted attention/harassment. encroachment on personal space. mentions of alcohol/drinking.
BANG CHAN
the studio was crowded, way more crowded than it usually was during a late-night tracking session. you were perched on the edge of the leather sofa, tucked into the corner with a drink in your hand, while the rest of the guys milled around. it was supposed to be a low-key wrap party for the new album, but some of the producers had brought friends, and the room felt small.
chan was across the room, leaning over the console with changbin and a couple of senior engineers. he looked good—focused, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pencil tucked behind his ear—but you could tell he was keeping one eye on the door and one eye on you. he always did that. he called it being a good host, but you knew it was just his nature to keep track of his people.
"so, how long have you known the group?"
you blinked, pulling your gaze away from chan to look at the guy who had just sat down next to you. he was one of the guest track-makers, someone you’d seen a few times but never really spoken to. he was leaning in close, his arm draped over the back of the sofa, effectively carving out a little bubble for the two of you.
"oh, a long time," you said, offering a polite smile. "i’ve been friends with chan since before the debut."
"lucky guy," he chuckled, his eyes scanning your face in a way that felt a little too lingering. "i can see why he keeps you around. you’ve got a really great energy." he introduces himself, giving you some name that you can't recall. can't bother to.
he didn't pull back. if anything, he shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours. you tried to shift subtly, but the sofa was deep, and there wasn't much room to move. "thanks," you murmured, taking a sip of your drink to avoid further conversation.
"you know," he continued, lowering his voice to a tone that was definitely meant to be intimate. "we’re headed to an after-party at a club nearby in about twenty minutes. chan’s probably going to stay here and obsess over the master tracks for another five hours. you should come with us. i'd love to actually get to know you without all this noise."
he reached out then, his fingers grazing your forearm as if to emphasize the invitation.
before you could even open your mouth to decline, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you didn't even have to look up to know chan had noticed. you could feel the weight of his stare from across the room.
a second later, the heavy footsteps approached. chan didn't walk over; he converged.
"everything okay here?"
chan’s voice was low, smooth as silk but with a jagged edge underneath that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he didn't wait for an answer. he stepped right into the narrow space between the coffee table and the couch, placing a firm, heavy hand on your shoulder. his thumb rubbed against the base of your neck in a slow, possessive rhythm.
the man pulled his hand back quickly, clearing his throat. "oh, yeah. just inviting your friend here to the after-party. you’re probably too busy to go, right?"
chan tilted his head, a small, tight smile playing on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. he looked incredibly calm, but the grip on your shoulder tightened just enough for you to feel the tension vibrating through him.
"actually," chan said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding like that deep tone he got when he was serious. "we have our own plans. and i’m never too busy for her."
he looked down at you then, his expression softening for a split second before he cut his eyes back to the other man. the look was icy—a clear, unspoken warning that said you're overstepping.
"is that right?" he stammered, looking between the two of you. "i didn't realize... i mean, i thought you guys were just..."
"we're a lot of things," chan interrupted, his voice steady. "but available isn't one of them. you should probably go find your group, man. i think they're leaving."
it wasn't a suggestion. he got the message, mulling out a quick "right, see ya" before making a beeline for the door.
the moment he was gone, the room seemed to regain its oxygen. chan didn't move his hand. he let out a long, ragged exhale, his shoulders finally dropping from their defensive hunch. he turned toward you, his eyes dark and swirling with a mix of leftover adrenaline and something that looked a lot like guilt.
"sorry," he muttered, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "he was being... a lot."
"channie," you said softly, reaching up to cover his hand with yours. "were you jealous?" you don't bother to hide the teasing lilt in your voice.
he let out a dry, sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. he looked away for a moment, watching the door where the guy had disappeared. "was it that obvious?"
"you looked like you were about to growl," you giggle.
chan stepped closer, moving until he was standing between your knees, his presence completely enveloping you. he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.
"i don't like the way he was looking at you," he confessed, his voice a rough whisper. "and i definitely didn't like him touching you. i know i shouldn't be so... yeah. i know you can handle yourself."
he paused, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing your lower lip.
"but the thought of someone else taking you away from here—even for an hour? i can't handle it. you're the only thing in this room that keeps me sane, okay? i'm selfish. i want you right where i can see you."
you smiled, pulling him down by his collar until your foreheads rested together. "i wasn't going anywhere, channie. i like it right here."
he hummed, a deep sound in his chest, and finally let out a real smile—the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "good. because i’m done with work for the night. let’s get out of here before someone else tries to talk to you."
he pulled you up from the sofa, his fingers interlacing tightly with yours, refusing to let go even as he grabbed his jacket. he led you out of the studio, his body positioned slightly in front of yours, a silent shield against the rest of the world.
LEE KNOW
the dance studio was freezing, the air conditioning humming a low, mechanical tune that usually helped minho focus. but today, his focus was completely shot. he was leaning against the mirrored wall, a towel draped over his shoulders, watching you talk to one of the new backup dancers near the sound system.
minho didn't do loud jealousy. he didn't storm over or start a scene. he was more surgical than that. he just watched, his eyes narrowed, tracking every movement.
the guy—some kid who was way too confident for his first week—was laughing, leaning a little too close to you. he reached out to adjust the strap of your bag that was slipping off your shoulder, his fingers lingering on your skin a second too long.
you were just being friendly, smiling at his jokes, but minho’s jaw tightened. he felt that familiar, sharp prickle of irritation. he hated when people didn't know their boundaries, especially when those boundaries involved you.
"so, you're here every tuesday?" the dancer asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "maybe i could take you to that cafe downstairs after we wrap? i heard their lattes are actually decent. or, you know, we could always go anywhere else, too."
minho didn't wait for you to answer. he pushed off the wall, his sneakers squeaking sharply against the wood floor. the sound was intentional.
he didn't say a word as he walked over. he simply stepped into your space, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. it wasn't a gentle hug; it was a firm, grounding weight that made it very clear where you belonged.
the dancer jumped slightly, his eyes widening as he looked up—and up—at minho.
"she’s busy," minho said. his voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, which was always when he was the most dangerous. he didn't look at the guy; he just stared at your reflection in the mirror across the room, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.
"oh, i—we were just talking about coffee," the guy stammered, his confidence evaporating under minho’s cold gaze.
"get your own coffee," minho replied, his tone clipped. "and get back to the floor. chan wants to run the bridge again in five minutes. don't be late."
it was a dismissal, plain and simple. the guy scrambled away, practically tripping over his own feet to get to the other side of the room.
the second he was gone, minho’s grip relaxed slightly, but he didn't let go. he turned you around in his arms, his expression still unreadable, though his ears were tinged with a faint, stubborn pink.
"you're scary when you do that," you whispered, reaching up to smooth the stray hairs on his forehead.
"i wasn't doing anything," he mumbled, looking away. "he was just annoying. talking too much."
"he was just asking for coffee, minnie."
minho’s eyes flicked back to yours, sharp and intense. "i don't care what he was asking for. he was touching you. i don't like it."
he let out a small, frustrated huff, his fingers digging into the fabric of your hoodie. minho wasn't big on emotional confessions, but in the quiet of the studio, with the rest of the members occupied at the far end, he let the mask slip just a fraction.
"i know i’m difficult," he said, his voice dropping so low you had to lean in to hear him. "i know i don't say the right things all the time. but you're mine. and i’m not good at sharing."
it was the closest you’d get to an 'i love you' in a moment like this—a raw, possessive honesty that felt more real than any flowery speech.
"i'm not going anywhere," you promised, leaning your head against his chest. "you know that."
"i do," he whispered, finally letting a small, smug smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. he pressed a quick, firm kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, his usual cool exterior snapping back into place. "now go sit down. you’re distracting me, and if i mess up this choreo, i’m blaming you."
he swatted your shoulder playfully, ushering you back to the bench, but as he walked back to the center of the floor, he caught the eye of the new dancer.
minho didn't say anything, but the look he gave him—cold, steady, and utterly territorial—made sure the kid didn't look your way for the rest of the afternoon.
CHANGBIN
the gym was mostly empty, the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the rubber mats the only thing breaking the silence. changbin loved this time of night—the overhead lights were dimmed, and he could actually breathe without people hovering.
he was currently finishing a set on the bench press, his muscles strained and glistening under the low light, while you sat nearby on a weight bench, scrolling through your phone and occasionally cheering him on.
everything was fine until a guy from the late-shift training staff wandered over. he was big, almost as big as changbin, and he had that swagger of someone who knew exactly how much he could lift.
"hey, mind if i hop in for a set?" the guy asked, but he wasn't looking at changbin. he was looking at you.
changbin sat up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. he didn't miss the way the trainer’s eyes dragged over you, or the way he puffed out his chest a little more as he stepped into your peripheral vision.
"just finished," changbin said, his voice coming out a bit rougher than usual. he didn't stand up yet; he just sat there, arms resting on his knees, watching.
"cool, cool," the guy said, turning fully toward you. "i haven't seen you around here before. you a member or just lucky enough to watch the show?" he flashed a grin that was clearly meant to be charming, leaning one hand against the rack right next to your head.
you looked up, giving him a small, polite nod. "i'm just waiting for him to finish."
"well, if you ever get bored of waiting, i'm usually here around this time. i could show you a few things. you look like you've got good potential for some real strength training." he chuckled, his voice dropping into a lower register.
he didn't move his hand. he stayed leaning over you, his shadow completely covering where you sat.
changbin didn't say anything at first. he just stood up. slow. deliberate.
when changbin stood, he looked massive. the pump from his workout made him look twice his usual size, and the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to make the air in the room feel heavy. he walked over, not stopping until he was standing directly behind you, his presence looming like a mountain.
he didn't shove the guy. he didn't have to. he just reached out and placed a heavy, solid hand on the back of your neck, his fingers tangling slightly in your hair. it was a grounding, heavy touch—one that claimed every inch of the space around you.
"she’s good," changbin said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seemed to vibrate in the floorboards. "she’s got the best trainer in the city. she doesn't need another one."
mark’s smile faltered. he looked at changbin, then at the way changbin’s hand was draped over you, his thick arm practically acting as a barrier. the power dynamic in the room shifted instantly.
"oh, yeah, no doubt," he stammered, taking a half-step back. "just being friendly, man. no harm meant."
"right. friendly," changbin repeated, his voice dry. he didn't blink. he just stared until the guy started to look physically uncomfortable. "we're done here anyway. go ahead and take the bench. it’s all yours."
mark didn't stay to chat. he muttered something about a good workout and practically scrambled to the other side of the gym.
changbin let out a sharp, hot breath. the tension in his jaw didn't fade immediately. he looked down at you, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, his expression a mix of irritation and something softer that he tried to hide behind a scowl.
"you're all red," you teased gently, reaching up to touch his arm. "was he that bothering?"
changbin grunted, finally sitting back down next to you, though he kept his arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you firmly against his side. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was hovering. like he was waiting for me to look away for one second."
"binnie, i wasn't going to go anywhere with him."
he looked at his lap, his fingers subconsciously flexing. "i know that. i do. but..." he trailed off, his voice losing its aggressive edge and turning into something much more vulnerable. "it’s just... i work so hard to be strong, to be someone you can rely on. and then some guy walks up and acts like he can just talk to you like that? it pisses me off."
he turned his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck for a second, his breath hot against your skin. changbin was all bravado and muscle on the outside, but with you, he was always just a guy who was terrified of losing the one thing that made him feel soft.
"i know, i know. i'm selfish," he mumbles against your skin. "i want everyone to know that you're with me. i want them to see me and realize they don't even have a chance. is that bad?"
"it's not bad," you whispered, leaning your head against his. "it's just you. it's also, like... really hot."
he pulled back, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the scowl. he leaned in, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to your temple before standing up and pulling you with him.
"come on," he said, his voice back to its usual confident tone, though he didn't let go of your hand. "let’s go get food. if i stay here any longer, i'm going to end up staring that guy down until he quits his job."
he led you out of the gym, his chest puffed out just a little bit more than usual, his grip on your hand tight and unshakable. he walked you to the car, and even as he opened the door for you, he shot one last look back at the gym windows—just to make sure the message had been received.
HYUNJIN
the gallery was hushed, the kind of quiet that made you feel like you had to whisper even if you weren't saying anything important. the walls were covered in abstract pieces that looked like explosions of color, and you were currently squinting at one particularly confusing canvas. you couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a sunset over the ocean or just a very vibrant bowl of fruit.
hyunjin had wandered off a moment ago to look at a charcoal sketch in the far corner, leaving you to your own devices. usually, he walked right beside you, his hand resting in the small of your back, murmuring his own interpretations into your ear. those were your favorite moments—hearing him talk about brushstrokes and color theory in that soft, passionate way of his. it was the best way to spend a date.
"it’s the duality of existence, don't you think?"
you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts as a random guy stepped into your space. he was dressed in a turtleneck that looked way too tight and was holding a brochure like it was a holy text. he didn't wait for you to respond before he kept going, leaning in closer than necessary.
"the artist is clearly grappling with the fleeting nature of light," he said, gesturing vaguely at the red splotch you thought might be a cherry. "most people just see the surface, but i bet you have an eye for this sort of depth. i can tell by the way you’re looking at it. you have that... artistic soul."
you bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to laugh. you didn't have an artistic soul; you were just wondering if the painter had been hungry when they made this. "oh, i'm not sure," you murmured, stepping back an inch. "i was just—"
"no, don't be modest," he interrupted, flashing a practiced, flirty grin. "i could spend the whole afternoon explaining the subtext of this wing to you. a girl like you shouldn't be wandering around such complex work without a guide."
he reached out, his hand hovering near your waist as if he were going to guide you toward the next painting.
"she already has a guide."
the voice was cool, smooth, and laced with a sharp underlying tension. you didn't even have to turn around to know hyunjin was back.
hyunjin didn't look at the guy at first. he kept his eyes on the painting, but his hand found yours instantly, his long fingers sliding between yours and squeezing tight. he didn't just hold your hand; he anchored you to him.
"actually," hyunjin said, finally turning his head to look at the man. his gaze was icy, his dark eyes narrowed in a way that made him look incredibly intimidating despite his beautiful features. "it’s not about the duality of existence. it’s a study on chaos. and she doesn't need you to explain depth to her."
the guy blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in atmosphere. "i was just offering some insight—"
"your insight is unsolicited," hyunjin cut him off, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone he used when he was genuinely annoyed. he stepped closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours, effectively erasing any gap the other man could have filled. "and your subtext is wrong. maybe read the artist's statement before you try to impress someone else’s girlfriend."
it was a total shut-down. the guy’s face turned a mottled red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he muttered something about "just being nice" and scurried off toward the sculpture garden.
hyunjin didn't watch him go. he turned to you immediately, his expression shifting from cold to pouting in a split second. he let out a dramatic sigh, dropping his forehead against your shoulder.
"i leave you alone for two minutes," he complained, his voice muffled. "two minutes, and someone is already trying to guide you."
"he was just being annoying, jinnie," you laughed, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "i was fine."
"he was touching your space," hyunjin muttered, pulling back to look at you. his eyes were still a little stormy, his jaw set in a stubborn line. he reached out, adjusting your scarf even though it was perfectly fine, just so he could have an excuse to touch you. "i don't like it. i don't like the way he was looking at you like you were part of the exhibit.”
he wrapped both arms around your waist then, pulling you flush against him right there in the middle of the gallery. hyunjin was always a bit dramatic, a bit more sensitive to the energy around him, and when he felt someone overstepping with you, he became incredibly territorial.
"you’re mine to explain paintings to," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "i’m the only one who gets to see your 'artistic soul,' okay?"
you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "okay. so, what is this one actually about then, mr. expert?"
hyunjin looked at the painting again—the one you thought was fruit. he went quiet for a second, his head tilting as he studied it. "honestly?" he whispered. "i think it’s a bowl of fruit. but i’m going to keep pretending it’s deep so we look more sophisticated than that guy."
you burst out laughing, and he joined you, his jealous mood finally melting away into that bright, beautiful smile you loved. he didn't let go of your hand for the rest of the day, leading you through the halls with his fingers locked firmly in yours, making sure everyone knew exactly who you were with.
HAN
the arcade was a chaotic mess of neon lights and overlapping synth music, exactly the kind of place jisung loved. you were currently focused on a racing game, your hands tight on the plastic steering wheel as you tried to beat the high score. jisung had gone to the counter to trade in a stack of tickets for some candy, leaving you alone at the machines for just a few minutes.
you were doing pretty well until a guy leaned against the side of your console. he was wearing a leather jacket and had a smirk that suggested he thought he was the best thing in the room.
"you’re taking that turn all wrong," he said, loud enough to be heard over the game’s sound effects. "you gotta drift earlier if you want the boost."
you didn't look up, eyes glued to the screen. "i'm doing fine, thanks."
"i'm just saying. i've got the top score on this cabinet," he continued, completely ignoring your brush-off. he shifted closer, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed at the screen. "here, let me show you. move over a bit and i'll handle the pedals for you."
the suggestion was weird and way too personal. you felt a surge of annoyance, but before you could tell him to get lost, a familiar presence appeared on your other side.
jisung didn't say anything at first. he just leaned in, dropping a heavy bag of sour candy onto the dash of the machine, right between you and the stranger. he didn't look like his usual hyper, joking self. his shoulders were tense, and his eyes were fixed on the guy with a look that was uncharacteristically sharp.
"she doesn't need help," jisung said. his voice wasn't loud, but it had a sudden, firm authority to it.
the guy blinked, looking jisung up and down. "just giving some tips, man. don't get worked up."
jisung stepped into the gap, effectively pushing the guy back by a few inches just by claiming the space. he draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so tightly that you had to let go of the wheel.
"she's winning," jisung noted, his voice dropping into that lower, slightly raspier tone he got when he was feeling protective. "and she’s winning without you hovering over her. so unless you’re planning on playing the machine next door, find somewhere else to hang out."
the guy looked like he wanted to argue, but the sheer, focused energy coming off jisung was enough to make him think twice. jisung wasn't the biggest guy in the room, but when he was set on protecting something, he had a way of making the air around him feel electric.
"whatever," the guy muttered, pushing off the machine and disappearing into the crowd near the air hockey tables.
the second he was out of sight, jisung’s posture deflated. he let out a long, shaky breath, burying his face in your shoulder for a second. he was still holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.
"hanji? you okay?" you asked, leaning your head against his.
"i hate idiots like him," he whispered, his voice muffled by your jacket. "idiots that act like they can just walk up and touch you. my heart started doing that weird thing where it feels like it’s vibrating."
you turned in his arms, seeing the faint flush on his cheeks. jisung dealt with a lot of anxiety, but when it came to you, his protective instincts usually managed to override his nerves—even if he felt the crash immediately afterward.
"you handled it perfectly," you said, reaching up to cup his face. "you were very cool."
jisung let out a small, embarrassed laugh, his eyes finally meeting yours. "i didn't feel cool. i felt like i was going to vibrate out of my skin. but then i saw him leaning on you and i just... i couldn't stay over at the counter. i don't like people in your bubble. that’s my bubble."
he pouted slightly, his thumb tracing the hem of your shirt. "i'm not good at the whole tough guy thing, but i really don't want anyone else thinking they can take my spot. is that too much?"
"no," you smiled, pulling him into a hug. "it's not too much."
jisung squeezed you back, his chin resting on your head. he stayed like that for a long moment, letting the noise of the arcade ground him again.
"okay," he said, pulling back with a sudden, forced burst of his usual energy, though he didn't let go of your hand. "now, move over. i'm going to beat your score and then i'm going to buy you a stuffed quokka with the rest of these tickets so everyone knows you’re taken by the best gamer in this building."
"i don't know if they'll have quokkas," you giggle.
"a squirrel, then!"
he spent the rest of the night glued to your side, his hand either in yours or resting on the small of your back, making sure that anyone who even looked in your direction knew exactly who you were with.
FELIX
the beach was beautiful, the salt air thick and warm as the sun began its slow dip toward the horizon. you were lounging on a wide striped towel, the sand still warm beneath you, while the sound of the waves provided a steady, rhythmic soundtrack. felix had been sitting with you for hours, his laughter ringing out every time a seagull got too close to your snacks, but he’d headed up to the boardwalk restrooms a few minutes ago.
you were closing your eyes, soaking in the last bit of the afternoon heat, when you felt the sand shift beside you.
"hey there. you look a little lonely for such a nice day."
you didn't notice the guy walking toward you until the sun was blocked out, casting a long shadow over your face. you squinted up, expecting to see felix, but it was someone else—a guy in board shorts with a surfboard tucked under his arm. he sat right down on the edge of your towel, kicking a bit of sand onto your book in the process.
"i'm fine, thanks," you said, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest to create some distance. "my boyfriend just went to grab something."
the guy laughed, a slow, easy sound that felt entirely too confident. "boyfriend, huh? well, he's a lucky guy to leave someone like you alone on my beach. i’m a local—lived here my whole life. i know all the hidden spots, the ones the tourists don't know about. if you ever want a real tour of the coast, i could show you around."
he leaned back on his elbows, encroaching further into your space. his name rolls off his tongue, smooth and confident. too confident. "and... you are?"
"not interested," you replied, your voice firm, but he didn't seem to take the hint. he just grinned, looking you up and down in a way that made you feel exposed.
"come on, don't be like that. just a friendly offer from a local."
"she said she isn't interested."
the voice didn't sound like the felix most people knew. it wasn't the bright, bubbly tone you normally heard from him. it was deep—unnervingly deep—and it carried the weight of the ocean behind it.
felix was standing a few feet away, his silhouette sharp against the setting sun. he was wearing an open linen shirt and shorts, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, but his expression was anything but breezy. he looked down at the surfer with a cold, steady gaze that made the guy’s smile falter instantly.
felix didn't wait for a response. he walked over and stepped directly between you and the stranger, effectively shielding you with his body. he sat down right in the middle of the towel, his back to the guy, and pulled you into his lap. his arms wrapped around you, his chin hooking over your shoulder as he locked eyes with the surfer.
"you’re sitting on our towel," felix said. his voice was a low vibration against your back, the kind of sub-bass that you felt in your bones. "and you’re bothering her."
the surfer cleared his throat, suddenly looking much smaller than he had a moment ago. "man, i was just talking. no need to get aggressive."
"i'm not being aggressive," felix countered, his tone clipped and icy. "i’m telling you to leave. now. take your board and get out of here."
the guy scrambled up, grabbing his board and muttering something about "crazy tourists" before jogging off toward the water.
the second he was gone, the tension in felix’s frame snapped. he let out a jagged breath, his grip on you tightening. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his nose cold against your skin. he didn't move for a long time, just held you there while the waves crashed in the distance.
"lixie? you okay?" you whispered, reaching back to stroke his hair.
"no," he murmured, his voice muffled. "i wasn't even gone for that long. what a dipshit. can't even take no for an answer."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. the usual spark was replaced by a raw, protective vulnerability. felix was usually the sweetest person you knew, but he had a territorial streak that came out whenever he felt like your safety or comfort was being threatened.
"i don't like being that guy," he admitted, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "the one who gets all possessive and weird. but when i see someone looking at you like that... like you're just something for them to win... it makes me feel like i’m losing my mind."
he sighed, his forehead dropping against yours. "i want to be the sunshine for you, always. but i’ll be the storm too, if i have to. i just want you to be safe."
you smiled, pulling his face closer to yours. "i’m always safe with you, baby. you don't have to worry. besides, it's very sexy."
his expression finally softened, a tiny, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your nose before leaning back, though he kept you tucked firmly under his arm.
"good," he whispered. "because i’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. we’re staying right here until the sun is completely gone."
he spent the rest of the evening exactly like that—glued to you, his hand never leaving yours, watching the horizon with a quiet, steady gaze that made it very clear to anyone passing by exactly who you belonged to.
SEUNGMIN
the bookstore was quiet, smelling of old paper and vanilla coffee. it was the kind of place where seungmin could spend hours, his eyes scanning spines with a focused intensity that you always found endearing. he’d spotted a specific edition of a poetry book he’d been hunting for and had disappeared into the back corner of the store, leaving you in the "new releases" section.
you were standing there, tilting your head at a row of thrillers, not exactly sure what you were looking for. you picked one up, reading the jacket blurb, when a guy stepped up beside you.
"that one’s a bit overhyped, honestly."
you looked over to see a guy who looked like he spent a lot of time in libraries—thick glasses, a slightly pretentious hoodie, and an air of confidence that felt a bit forced. he was leaning against the bookshelf, blocking your view of the next row.
"the pacing is all off in the second act," he continued, not waiting for you to ask. "if you want something with actual literary merit, you should be looking at the historical fiction section. i could walk you over there and give you some recommendations. a lot of people struggle with picking the right novel."
you gave a small, awkward laugh. "oh, i’m sure it’s fine. i just liked the cover."
"style over substance," he sighed, shaking his head with a condescending smile. "typical. look, i’ve got a pretty curated list of must-reads. if you give me your number, i can send you a few titles that are actually worth your time."
he leaned in a little closer, his hand reaching out as if to take the book from your hand to put it back on the shelf.
"she’s keeping that one."
seungmin’s voice was like a cold splash of water. it was sharp, precise, and completely devoid of his usual playful teasing. he appeared at your side, not with a flourish, but with a steady, quiet presence that immediately shifted the air in the aisle.
he didn't look at the guy at first. instead, he tucked the poetry book he’d found under his arm and reached out, taking the thriller from your hand and looking at the cover.
"it has a 4.2 rating on most platforms, and the prose is noted for being accessible yet punchy," seungmin said, his tone incredibly dry as he looked at the stranger. "but i’m sure your... curated list is much more impressive."
the guy blinked, his face flushing. "i was just offering some help. she seemed a bit lost."
"she isn't lost," seungmin replied. he didn't raise his voice, but there was a biting edge to it—the seungmin that the members were always wary of. he stepped into the space between you and the guy, his shoulder subtly pushing the stranger back an inch. "and if she wants a recommendation, she’ll ask someone who actually knows her taste. which isn't you."
the guy opened his mouth to say something, but seungmin just raised an eyebrow, his gaze steady and unimpressed. he looked like he was ready to dismantle the guy’s entire personality with a single sentence. the stranger clearly decided it wasn't worth the effort, turning and disappearing into the biography section.
the second he was gone, seungmin let out a quiet scoff. he didn't move away, though. he stayed right in your space, his hand sliding down to grip your wrist gently, his thumb rubbing against your pulse point.
"you were going to let him talk for ten more minutes, weren't you?" he asked, looking down at you. his ears were red, a tell-tale sign that he was much more bothered than he was letting on.
"i was just trying to be polite, min."
"you're too polite," he mumbled, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction before he pulled you closer to his side. "he was being a condescending prick. and he was trying to get your number right in front of me. well, almost in front of me."
seungmin let out a frustrated sigh, looking back at the shelf. he wasn't usually the type to make a scene, but when it came to you, his patience for other people was non-existent. he was territorial in a very intellectual, sharp way—he didn't like anyone acting like they knew you better than he did.
"i'm the only one who gets to recommend books to you," he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more private murmur. "because i’m the only one who knows you hate sad endings and that you always skip the middle of long descriptions. i don't need some guy in a scarf trying to fuckin' curate your life."
you smiled, leaning your head against his arm. "are you jealous, kim seungmin?"
"i'm observant," he corrected, though he couldn't hide the small, smug smile that touched his lips when you didn't pull away. "and i don't like people hovering. especially when they’re wrong about the pacing of that thriller. it’s actually very well-regarded."
he led you toward the checkout counter, his hand sliding down to lock fingers with yours. he didn't let go, even when he had to pay, making sure he was positioned between you and the rest of the store. as you walked out, he tucked the bag under his arm and pulled you closer.
"next time," he said, "just tell them you’re with a very mean singer who has no problem being rude in a quiet shop."
"i think they got the message," you teased.
"good," he whispered, pressing a quick, firm kiss to your temple. "they were supposed to."
I.N.
the night market was a blur of neon signs, the smell of spicy rice cakes, and the constant roar of a thousand different conversations. it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of place where you could lose someone in seconds.
jeongin had been holding your hand tightly the whole time, but he’d let go for just a moment to elbow his way through a crowd at a street food stall to grab the skewers you’d been eyeing.
you were waiting by a brightly lit claw machine, watching the mechanical arm fail to grab a plush bread roll, when a guy drifted over. he looked like he’d had a few drinks—not enough to be stumbling, but enough to be loud and way too confident.
"man, these things are a scam," he said, leaning his shoulder against the glass of the machine, effectively blocking your view. "you’re never gonna catch that. but hey, if you want something to take home, i’m right here."
you didn't even look at him, keeping your eyes on the joystick. "i'm just waiting for someone."
"he must be a slow guy to leave a girl like you standing in the middle of a crowd," he laughed, reaching out to tap the glass right in front of your face. he was hovering in your personal space, his shadow cutting off the light from the machine. "come on, let me buy you a drink instead of wasting your money on a toy. i know a spot just around the corner that’s way better than this mess."
you started to step away, but the crowd was thick behind you, trapping you between the machine and the stranger. "i said i'm waiting for someone. please move."
"don't be like that," he said, his hand moving as if to reach for your shoulder. "i'm just being—"
"she asked you to move."
jeongin appeared out of the crowd like he’d been launched from a cannon. he didn't look like the baby bread the fans joked about; he looked sharp, his feline eyes narrowed and his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line. he stepped directly between you and the man, his shoulder knocking the guy back a couple of inches.
he didn't say it loudly, and he didn't make a scene, but the sheer coldness in jeongin’s voice was enough to make the air around you feel brittle. he stood his ground, his height and the sudden, intense presence he carried making him look much older than he was.
"hey, man, back off. we were just talking," the guy snapped, trying to regain his footing.
jeongin didn't flinch. he didn't even blink. he just reached back and grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours with a grip that was borderline bruising. "you were bothering her. she told you to move, and you didn't. so i'm telling you now. get lost before this becomes a bigger problem for you."
the man looked at jeongin—really looked at him—and saw the silent, icy resolve in his gaze. jeongin had a way of looking through people when he was angry, a sharp, piercing stare that made it clear he wasn't playing. the guy muttered a curse under his breath and disappeared back into the sea of people.
the second he was gone, jeongin turned to you. the "scary" version of him evaporated instantly, replaced by a look of pure, frantic worry. he dropped the skewers onto the ledge of the machine and took your face in both of his hands, his thumbs frantically brushing over your cheeks.
"are you okay? did he touch you? i was only gone for a minute, i shouldn't have let go of your hand," he rambled, his voice high and breathless. the adrenaline was still surging through him, making his hands shake just a little.
"innie, i'm all good. you got here before he could even do anything," you said, trying to calm him down.
jeongin let out a long, shaky exhale, leaning his forehead against yours. he closed his eyes, his hands sliding down to rest heavily on your shoulders. "this is crazy," he whispered. "some drunk bastard thinks that he can... that's crazy."
he pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face in your neck. jeongin was usually the one being pampered by the older members, but when it came to you, he had this fierce, almost desperate need to be the protector. he hated being seen as "young" or "harmless" when it mattered most.
his grip tightening, he mutters against your skin; "i don't want anyone to look at us and think they can just take you away because i’m not enough to keep them back. you’re mine. i need them to know that."
he pulled back, his ears bright red but his eyes steady. he reached down, grabbed the food, and then locked his fingers with yours again—this time, he didn't just hold your hand; he held it like his life depended on it.
"we’re going home," he said firmly, though a shy, dimpled smile finally managed to peek through his serious expression. "and next time, if you want skewers, we’re going together. i’m not letting go of you for the rest of the night."
he led you out of the market, navigating the crowd with a new, confident stride, his shoulder always positioned to block you from anyone else’s view.
pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader
wc: 22 ss
tags/warnings: enemies-to-lovers, cursing, angst/fluff, inaccurate depictions of the inner workings of kpop companies, chan is mean and unreasonable (for plot purposes!)
part one // part two // part three // part four
masterlist
Summary: The company hires Chan a personal assistant against his will, so he makes it his mission to make her leave.
a/n: New series! This one caused me a lot of grief trying to wrangle it into a form I was pleased with, but I think I finally got it there. Enjoy!
part two
perm. taglist: @virgopotterhead @sue-reads @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @1giss4swft3 @emmalabo @velvetmoonlght @ch3rry15pin @danielle143 @thisisnotjacinta @geni-627 @barbie-girl84 @clairementsolo @stvr-l0stt @bangchansbig-nose @chandlxa @flippedccc @astrayapple @my-neurodivergent-world @girlblogger-04 @book-mark @mladyluna @simpqueen2025 @kimberlydynamite @hunter-or-the-hunted @chuahuahua @kpopdiva89 @theboldandthebootyful @bi-and-panicking @smiileflower (to join the permanent taglist fill out this form; to join the series taglist let me know in a comment)
chan has a new idea that he’s interested in trying out: a threesome. but only under one condition: he keeps who the third is as a surprise. after all, he only has your best interest at heart.
pairing: bang chan + lee felix x reader
wc: 7.9k
tags: smut with a little plot, established relationship (chan/you). dom!chan, switch!felix, sub!reader. slight homoerotic tension if you squint
my entry to the ever so lovely larie’s kinktober for october 21st, thank you for having me 🖤 @breakmeoff
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: double penetration | sensory deprivation | temperature play
you and chan had always built your relationship on the sort of foundation where no fantasy was too strange to name. your bond thrived on honesty, on the kind of communication that made even the wildest ideas safe to propose. chan was endlessly inventive, always turning, the train never sleeping. his suggestions had led you down paths that were thrilling, daring, and unforgettable. when he said to brace yourself, it was never an empty phrase.
still, nothing prepared you for the way he leaned back in his chair at the dinner table one night, wine glass in hand, voice deceptively casual.
“i want to feel what it’s like to have two cocks inside you at the same time,” he opened, tone the same as if he were asking about a current work project.
the fork slipped in your hand, clattering against the plate. you blinked at him, throat tightening around a breath you forgot to take. what…?
his lips curled into a slow, devious smile, the kind that meant he had thought about this for longer than he would ever admit. “don’t act so surprised,” he murmured. “you’ve let me drag you into stranger things. besides—” his eyes glinted, deliberate, knowing “—i have someone in mind already.”
your stomach knotted at the implication, heat rushing beneath your skin. the idea carried a different kind of ache, soft and dangerous. you tried to swallow, but your mouth had gone dry.
“chan… um… who are you thinking of…?” your voice was thin, uncertain. you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to him.
“i want that to be a surprise. don’t worry, it’s not a stranger, you know him quite well. you know i wouldn’t put you through anything i know you wouldn’t enjoy.”
he reached across the table, brushing his thumb over your wrist with the calmest affection, as if he had not just tilted your entire world off its axis. “think about it,” he said softly. “your body trembling, stretched too full, nowhere to run. and—” his tone darkened, velvet-rough “—i know who i’m thinking of will take just as much pleasure in it as i will.”
the image was enough to make you press your thighs together beneath the table, shame mixing with anticipation. chan noticed—of course he noticed. his smirk deepened, his hand squeezing your wrist once before letting go.
“there’s no need to rush, take your time,” he promised, voice lower now, more intimate. “but i want you to imagine it. how it will feel. when you’ve made up your mind, you let me know, okay baby? you’re always allowed to say no, always.”
“okay chan, i trust you. i'll think about it.”
dinner carried on from there, conversation shifting away from his proposal to his developments in the studio. but his words never left your mind.
in the following days, chan’s words followed you like a phantom, curling through your thoughts at odd moments, sparking heat low in your stomach whenever your mind wandered. it was not just the act itself that consumed you, but the secrecy of who he had in mind. every time he spoke to the other boys, every time laughter drifted through the apartment on nights they visited, you caught yourself wondering. which one? whose hands, whose voice, whose cock pressing alongside chan’s? the unknown was maddening.
chan, however, seemed perfectly at ease. if anything, he was calmer, carrying himself with the smug serenity of a man who knew he had planted a seed and was simply waiting for it to grow.
one evening, after you had gone to bed early, chan lingered in the living room with his laptop open but untouched. his phone buzzed, a new message lighting the screen. a smile flickered across his face before he typed back quickly: you free to come over tomorrow? need to talk.
felix arrived the next afternoon while you weren’t home.
“so… this is what you wanted to talk about?” felix’s voice was low, cautious, though his wide eyes betrayed curiosity. he shifted on the couch beside chan, fiddling with the ring on his finger.
chan nodded, leaning back with the same deceptive casualness he had used with you at the dinner table. “yeah. i meant it. i want you with us.”
felix blinked, lips parting. “are you… serious?”
“do i look like i’m joking?” chan’s grin was devilish, but his tone softened. “i wouldn’t even bring this up if i didn’t think she’d be open to it. i know her, lix. she’s considering it already, even if she’s pretending she needs more time. and you—” he tilted his head, studying felix with intent “—you’ve thought about it too, haven’t you?”
felix’s ears turned pink, and he quickly looked down, but he made no move to deny it.
chan chuckled, patting his knee. “i knew it. you don’t need to worry about her reaction. when the time comes, she won’t know it’s you until you want her to. i’ll blindfold her. all she’ll feel is the two of us filling her until she’s begging.”
felix exhaled sharply, his adam’s apple bobbing. “fuck…”
“exactly.” chan smirked, lowering his voice. “we’ll take it slow. build her up, draw it out… she’ll be so desperate by the time we give her both of us, she’ll fall apart.”
felix sat forward, elbows braced on his knees, the nervous energy in him almost palpable. he kept twisting his ring around his finger, a restless tick chan had noticed countless times before. only now, it felt charged—like a confession about to be dragged out.
“i don’t want to mess this up,” felix admitted finally, his voice hushed. “i mean… it’s one thing to think about it, but another to actually…” his words trailed off into silence.
chan watched him with steady calm, lips curving into that maddeningly knowing smile. “that’s exactly why i thought of you,” he said. “because you care enough to worry about messing it up. you’ll be careful with her. you’ll listen to me, and you’ll listen to her. that’s all i ask.”
felix’s gaze flicked up, caught off guard by the simple conviction in chan’s tone. the sincerity. “you really trust me with her like that?”
“of course i do. i would hardly even consider anyone else. i know you, lix. i know you’ve thought about her the same way i have.”
felix flushed crimson, but again, he didn’t deny it. the silence that followed was its own kind of confession, and chan let it hang before leaning closer, voice dropping.
“listen carefully,” chan began, almost clinical in his precision. “when it happens, she’ll be blindfolded. she’ll not know it’s you. she’ll know at some point, but not at first. that takes the pressure off. she only has to focus on feeling. no distractions, no overthinking.” he tapped his temple lightly. “every touch will feel sharper, more overwhelming.”
felix’s breathing had gone shallow, his lips parted in silent focus.
chan went on smoothly. “i’ll be controlling the pacing, and you follow my lead. if i say stop, you stop. if she says stop, you stop. do you understand?”
felix nodded quickly, almost eager. “yeah. i get it.”
chan’s smirk deepened. “good boy.”
the praise lit something dangerous in felix’s eyes—embarrassment, yes, but also hunger. he shifted uncomfortably on the couch, pressing his knees together like he could hide the effect the conversation alone was having on him.
chan leaned back, satisfied. “we can do whatever we want, really, if you want, we can deny her until she’s crying for it. edge her, tease her, let her drown in it. when she’s begging—really begging—that’s when we give her what she wants. she knows to say no when it’s too much, and that’s the beauty of it—the trust is there for us to keep her safe.”
felix exhaled a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair. “you make it sound so easy.”
“it’s not easy,” chan replied, his voice suddenly stern. “it’s just controlled. that’s the difference. we don’t just take what we want—we orchestrate it. she trusts me, and through me, she’ll trust you. don’t forget that.”
felix swallowed hard, then nodded again, this time with more resolve. “i won’t.”
chan’s expression softened for the first time that night, and he clapped a reassuring hand to felix’s shoulder. “good. then when the time comes, we’ll both make sure it’s unforgettable. want something to drink?”
in the days that followed blurred together, his words threaded through the quiet moments of your routine. at night, when you lay beside him, you found yourself replaying the way he had said it—so casually, as if it were already inevitable. your body betrayed you; every time your mind touched the thought of it, heat stirred low in your gut.
finally, one evening, you exhaled the decision you had been circling around for days. “chan?”
he hummed in reply, arm draped lazily over your waist as he nestled behind you on the couch.
“i… want to try it, the threesome,” your voice was smaller than you intended, but the words were solid, undeniable.
his arm tightened around you instantly, his chest pressing firmer against your back. “mmh, yeah?” his voice was gentle, though the underlying current of satisfaction was impossible to miss.
“yeah,” you breathed, cheeks warming. “i just can’t stop thinking about it. the way you described it… i want it. i just have a question.”
“of course, what is it?”
“it’s not someone i wouldn’t want, right?”
“i understand the hesitancy around not knowing who it is in such an intimate context… but trust me, i know you’ll like who it is. you both are close.”
chan turned you in his arms until you were facing him, eyes dark but careful. “and listen to me, baby. this only works if you feel completely safe. i won’t go through with anything unless you agree to every part.”
you nodded quickly, but he wasn’t finished.
“it stays the same,” he reminded you, tone firm now. “if you say no, everything stops—no hesitation, no questions. you can change your mind at any point, and we’ll stop.” his thumb brushed your cheek as his eyes searched yours. “you understand?”
“i understand.”
“good.” his lips quirked, though his voice stayed serious. “there will be rules. i’ll be in control. i’ll tell him what to do, when to touch, how far to go. if anything feels wrong, you call out as soon as you feel off. i will handle it. your comfort comes before our pleasure, always.”
a shiver traced down your spine—not from fear, but from the dominance in his words. you thrived on the fact that he was handling everything for you. that he knew everything of what to say and do to ensure you’d enjoy yourself. the command in his tone only sharpened the ache curling inside you.
“and…” chan’s mouth ghosted over your ear, his whisper roughened now, “i’ll blindfold you. take away sight so all you have left is touch. you’ll feel every inch of us. and you’ll only see us in your mind.”
your breath stuttered out, thighs pressing together as he chuckled low.
“but none of it happens,” he said, pulling back enough to meet your gaze again, “until you tell me, clearly, that this is what you want.”
you swallowed hard, pulse pounding in your ears, before whispering, “i want it. i want to be had by both of you.”
the groan that tore softly from chan’s throat was answer enough. he kissed you, slow at first, then deeper, hungrier, his hand sliding into your hair, gripping at the roots as though to brand the moment into your skin. when he pulled back, his eyes were molten, but his voice stayed steady.
“good girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your swollen lower lip. “then leave the rest to me.”
you nodded, heart hammering. the promise in his tone wrapped around you like silk—warm, gentle, and grounding.
tonight was the night.
chan kissed you the way he always did when he wanted to set the world aside and anchor you to him—gentle at first, lips moving with a patience that lulled your body into soft surrender. his thumb brushed over your cheekbone, steady and warm, while his other hand traced idly along your thigh, not demanding, just reminding you he was there, everywhere.
he broke the kiss only to breathe against your mouth, words feathering over your lips. “you’re so beautiful tonight.” his tone was velvet, hushed and sure, carrying no rush, only certainty.
the bed dipped as he leaned closer, his palm gliding down your arm until his fingers threaded with yours. “before we go any further,” he murmured, eyes dark and intent, “i want to hear you say it again. are you sure about this, baby?”
your pulse quickened under his gaze, but the answer rose clear, unwavering. “i’m sure, chan. i trust you.”
his lips curved, proud and molten, and he kissed you once more, deeper this time, stealing the air from your lungs until you forgot where nervousness ended and anticipation began.
“good girl,” he whispered against your mouth, the praise reverberating through your chest like a spark caught to flame.
when he finally pulled back, you heard the faint rasp of fabric, the shift of a drawer sliding open. you turned instinctively, only for chan to smile, holding something between his fingers. the silk draped dark and soft.
“lift your chin,” he instructed gently.
your breath hitched, and still—you obeyed.
the world slipped into darkness.
the blindfold settled snug across your eyes, and with it the world dissolved. every sound sharpened—the soft exhale of chan’s breath, the rustle of fabric as he adjusted on the bed.
then, his weight shifted away. the mattress eased as he rose, his footsteps retreating across the floor. a soft creak of hinges followed, the faintest draft whispering over your skin as the door opened.
there was a bubbling silence.
your heart climbed higher in your chest, the blindfold magnifying every beat, every flicker of breath.
and then—footsteps. different this time. each step was slower, measured. they were weighted in a way that wasn;t chan.
the door clicked shut, and the sound alone sent a shiver racing down your spine. the air felt thicker, charged, the anticipation nearly unbearable.
chan’s presence returned at your side, his hand grounding on your left thigh, thumb stroking lazily as though to soothe the racing pulse beneath your skin. his voice came low, warm, intimate—but no longer meant for you alone.
“good. you came just like we talked about. close the door behind you… that’s it. now, come here. she’s a little nervous, but not in a bad way. she likes it.”
the mattress dipped on your right under new weight, unfamiliar yet careful, and your breath caught. the world was still black, and that made it worse—made it sharper.
chan brushed a kiss against your left temple, his tone deliberate. “relax, baby. you’re safe. i’m riight here.”
the mattress dipped further as the new presence shifted closer, and you bit down on your lip, every nerve alight.
chan’s hand slid reassuringly along your arm, grounding you before he spoke again, his tone smooth and commanding. “give me your hand,” he said—not to you this time. the scrape of skin against skin followed, and then chan was guiding, placing.
a warmth pressed suddenly against your right thigh—a little smaller and tentative, and not chan’s. your breath hitched.
“there,” chan murmured, satisfaction lacing his voice. “just like that. feel how soft she is? i love her thighs. now keep your hand steady.”
your skin burned where that foreign palm rested, the heat of it a brand against your trembling muscles. you wanted desperately to see, to know—but the blindfold denied you the privilege, leaving only sensation, only sound.
“she’s shivering,” chan observed, amusement curling through his words. “do you feel that?”
a pause, then the faintest shift of fingers pressing more firmly into your thigh. the smallest sound escaped you—half gasp, half whimper.
“good,” chan hummed. “she likes it. don’t be afraid to move higher… slowly.”
the hand obeyed, sliding inch by inch up the length of your thigh, dragging fire in its wake.
chan’s palm stayed anchored on your other leg, his voice still the constant thread tying everything together. “that’s it. gentle. she’s yours to explore tonight, but you’ll follow my lead. understand?”
a sharp, swallowed breath sucked into the other’s lungs through his teeth reverberates in your head.
you swore you could feel the faint tremor in his touch, the hesitance threaded with hunger. the hand lingered on your thigh, hot and unsure, and you found yourself straining toward it, your body greedy despite your nerves.
chan chuckled lowly, catching the shift of your hips, “so eager for us already. patience, baby. you’ll get what you want eventually. don’t touch until i tell you to, alright?”
after you nodded, his hand left your leg, and you heard the soft scrape of something against glass, the faint clink of ice from the nightstand tray. a beat later, the world shifted.
…something cold?
a sharp, biting chill touched down just below your collarbone, and you gasped aloud, body jerking at the contrast. the cube trailed slowly over your skin, water dripping, chasing rivulets down between your breasts. you could feel goosebumps from the chill arise from under your flesh.
chan’s satisfaction was audible. “hear that? every nerve in her body lit up from one touch. imagine what else we can do.”
you arched, blindfold forcing you to live inside every sensation. your skin burned where the ice had passed, goosebumps chasing its trail.
“here,” chan’s voice guided, firmer now. “take this.” you heard the faint crack of ice between fingers, then felt it—a second chill ghosting over your thigh this time, more clumsy and slower.
you whimpered, thighs jerking from the chill involuntarily.
chan’s laugh was wicked against your ear. “she likes it. see how she squirms for you? keep dragging it… higher, just a little.”
the cube shifted up, toward the crease where thigh met hip, and you keened, the sensitivity of the skin meeting such biting chills in the best way possible.
“god, listen to her,” chan breathed, somewhere between smug and reverent. “she’s probably soaking already. all from your hand on her a little ice.”
the ice dragged higher, melting fast, the rivulets slipping over sensitive skin until you couldn’t tell where cold ended and heat began. your hips bucked, desperate for friction, a sound breaking loose from your throat that was closer to a plea than you meant it to be.
your hands twitched before you could stop them, rising from the sheets in search of chan, of something to hold.
you barely made it halfway before his voice cut sharp. “ah— nuh-uh.” his grip caught your wrist, firm, unyielding.
your breath stuttered. “chan—”
“you know the rule.” his tone dipped, velvet and steel at once. “you don’t touch unless i tell you to. i warned you.”
he let your wrist fall back to the mattress, but only for a moment. then came the brush of something soft, strange, across your skin—like fur, fleeting, teasing.
“what’s… that?” you whispered, nerves curling through the blindfold’s darkness.
chan only chuckled, the sound dark, dangerous. the next sensation was colder, harder—the faintest drag of metal against your arm.
click.
your pulse spiked.
“chan what are—?”
his lips ghosted your ear, his breath warm while the metal cinched tighter around your wrist. “handcuffs, baby.”
another click followed, indicative of your other wrist taken just as easily, secured above your head. the final tug of the chain against the headboard left you breathless. the loss of two senses—sight and touch—drove you mad. the mystery of what could happen rose your desperation for more infinitely.
chan kissed the corner of your mouth, sweet even as he bound you completely. “you wanted to touch when you weren’t supposed to,” he whispered, voice soaking in all self indulgent cruelty. “so now you can’t touch at all.”
the air was thick with heat and the faint clink of metal. your pulse pounded against the silk at your temples, the blindfold pressing soft darkness into your vision.
chan’s voice came first—low, controlled, the kind that drew obedience like gravity. “now. she’s ready for you. start slow. learn her with your hands.”
the bed shifted as felix moved closer, each sound amplified in the dark. you could hear his breath before you felt him—unsteady, caught somewhere between awe and restraint.
then his fingers brushed your stomach. it was tentative at first, almost reverent. the pads of his fingertips traced upward in trembling lines, mapping skin as though he had never touched before. you could feel the faint drag of calluses, the heat of him, the air tightening in his lungs when you shivered beneath him.
“see?” chan murmured, satisfaction threading his tone. “she’s so reactive to your touch, aren’t you baby?” he cooed. you could only release a high-pitched sigh, your body twitching in response.
felix’s fingers hesitated, then grew bolder, sweeping higher until they met the curve of your ribs and the underside of your breasts. your body followed the motion, arching subconsciously toward the hand’s warmth.
every inch of you felt magnified: the slide of skin, the whisper of breath near your ear, the low rumble of chan’s approval.
“good,” chan said. “keep her like that. let her feel you.”
you swallowed hard, the sound loud in the stillness. felix’s hand lingered over your heartbeat, palm flat, grounding. the other brushed a stray lock of hair from your neck—small, human gestures that somehow made the restraints feel tighter, the need deeper.
chan’s voice softened, brushing against your nerves like a spark. “beautiful. you’re doing so well, both of you.”
you couldn’t see it, of course, but felix trembled slightly at the praise. he bit his lip as he continued his ministrations to hold in any sighs.
what you recognised to be chan’s fingers traced the line of your collarbone, a gentle promise of what’s to come. his touch was a whisper, a question, and you arched into it, seeking more. the ice on your skin had now melted in response to your heat, leaving trails of cool water that sent shivers down your spine. the second pair of hands followed the first, smearing the water across your skin, raising goosebumps. his touch was bolder now, tracing the same path, mimicking chan’s movements with a growing confidence.
you could feel the heat of the second person’s body—close but not quite touching—as he leant in to blow air onto where the cold water pooled, his breath a warm contrast to the cool trails left by the ice. his thumbs brushed against your nipples, teasing them into hard peaks, and you gasped at the shiver it sent through you.
chan’s chuckle was low, a rumble against your ear, “that’s it,” he murmured, his hand guiding felix’s, showing him how to tease, to pleasure, to drive you crazy.
felix’s touch became more assured, his fingers dancing across your skin, learning your reactions and your needs. you could feel the tension building, the anticipation coiling tight in your belly. every touch, every breath, every whisper was a promise, a tease, a step closer to the edge. and you were desperate for more, desperate for release.
as you writhed desperately across the smooth bed sheets, tugging the handcuffs against the post of your headboard, chan’s voice from beside you was a low, commanding murmur, a constant presence. “you’re so responsive,” he whispered, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, a silent command to keep still, to surrender. and you did, your body trembling with the effort, with the anticipation.
with a slow, deliberate movement, chan positioned his hands between your thighs, pushing them apart with a somehow gentle yet insistent pressure. “want him to taste you yet, hm?” he asked lowly. you nod, a silent affirmation.
chan’s fingers traced the curve of your hip, a possessive touch that sent shivers down your spine. “kneel,” he instructed felix, his hand gently pushing him down, positioning him between your thighs. you could feel the anticipation churning beneath your skin, a tight coil in your belly, as felix’s breath ghosted against your skin, a warm promise. chan’s fingers continued to trace the line of your jaw. felix’s hands are gentle, his touch a whisper as he parted your thighs further to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders. his blown pupils darted between your (already) dripping pussy and chan, lips parted slightly in pure awe, waiting for his next command.
“eager are we?” chan teased. felix nods almost too quickly, he was very eager to dive in. he would rather die than admit just how long he had been dreaming of this moment.
“go on then, taste her,” chan’s voice slid into felix’s desperate ears with ease. instantly, felix obeyed, his tongue a slow, deliberate exploration. it was less immediately-knows-what-he’s-doing with you, and more very-eager-to-learn-what-makes-you-feel-good. you moaned, the sound slightly choked in your throat, your body arching into the sensation, into the pleasure. chan watched as felix’s tongue traced figure-eight motions around your clit, his eyes a burning intensity. felix’s tongue became increasingly more and more confident, and more assured in covering the expanse of your dripping sex, his movements a deliberate rhythm giving a good foundation to best build your pleasure. and chan guided him through eating you out, his voice a low rumble, a constant presence. the authority dripping from his tongue made you squirm, and felix act before he could even think.
“go in deeper,” he directed, fisting felix’s blonde ponytail, pushing his face into you further. felix obeys with a pleased yet quiet sigh, his tongue delving deeper as instructed. he almost seemed more enthused at chan’s forcefulness, and chan could tell.
“oh? you like when i push you around, hm? you wanna be my good boy?” chan’s head tilted as he wrapped his fist with felix’s ponytail. you could feel the desperate nodding against you as chan chuckled. he was definitely going to keep that in mind.
as felix’s tongue delved deeper, you could feel the pleasure building a tight, coiled tension in your belly. as the pleasure built, it felt like a wave was building to it’s crescendo ready to crash over you. your thighs clenched tighter around felix’s head, your back arching, your body nonverbally begging for release.
chan, having memorised the telltale signs of everything about you, knew what you were holding back. he watched on, his eyes a burning intensity, his hand moving to lightly cusp your throat, as he leaned in close, “you wanna cum so bad, don’t you baby? you know i can tell you’re holding it in. you that desperate to finish on our command?”
you nodded, begging tearful pleas into the air as your hips rocked desperately on felix. chan used the hand that wasn’t wrapped in felix’s hair to carefully brush the pieces of your hair that had fallen onto your face and neck so as to not overstimulate you.
“being so good for us, aren’t you? such a patient girl, our little one,” you felt chan shift his head to your neck, gently pushing your head out of the way so that he had the room to press lingering kisses all along where you were most sensitive. his free hand trailed down to your breast, brushing featherlight flicks over your nipples to further push you closer to the edge. “come on, babygirl. cum for us, cum all over his tongue for me, yeah?”
and you did, you came undone in synchronisation with a deep thrust from felix, your body trembling as that wave finally washed over you. felix’s tongue flicked and teased, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he explored every inch of you throughout your orgasm. your release felt like an overwhelming, all-consuming thing, a wave of pleasure that left you gasping unfiltered moans and whimpers as you stepped closely to the line of overstimulation from both men’s touches.
chan, having noticed the shift in your hips from grinding to attempting to pull away, tugged on felix’s ponytail to remove him from you, “so desperate to eat her, huh? you’re such a good boy, you’ve done so well for our girl haven’t you? that’s enough of that for now, we don’t want her tapping out.”
after allowing you a few to fully come down, chan’s voice curled low—a coaxing, and comforting, yet an absolute presence as he guided the transition.
“you ready to take us both?” he asked, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, a possessive touch that sends shivers down your spine, “i think it’s only fair that we get to have our fun too, wouldn’t you agree?”
you nodded, a silent affirmation, your breath coming in short sighs. you heard the clinking of metal from above you and sudden relief in the tension of the handcuffs: chan had taken them off you. whilst you massaged your wrists he shifted your body, moving you over slightly, so that felix had room to lay beside where you once were. he adjusted the fabric on your eyes slightly where it had moved so that it’d stay securely, he doesn’t want any surprises to slip yet!
after, chan flicked his head sideways quickly, gesturing to felix to move—which he did so very eagerly—he guided your hands to felix’s belt buckle. “you know what this, right baby? need i tell you what you have to do?”
no way in hell did he need to.
hastily, you undid the belt and tilted your head in chan’s direction, awaiting his next direction, awaiting his permission.
“eager, are we? it’s okay baby, take off his jeans. take it all off for me,” he looked to felix, who hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from your hands which were hovering over his very obvious, very hard, cock, which was straining against the aforementioned jeans. “lift your hips a little—be a good little one and help her out for me, yeah?”
felix, seemingly under some sort of hypnosis—both chan’s commanding energy and your eagerness for him was just so much for him—blissfully helped you to remove his pants. chan situated you to straddle felix’s bare upper thighs. you leant forward slightly, pressing your hands into felix’s stomach to brace yourself, to which he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. shamelessly, you felt up his now tensed ab muscles, and chan laughed softly from behind you.
“you like what you feel, baby?” you agreed quickly. yes, felix felt his ego inflate a little by that. you felt chan move behind you, his knees on either side of felix’s legs. his body was a hard, insistent pressure against your back. “go on, touch him. i know you want to.”
you shuffled forward to position yourself over felix’s warm, solid body, your thighs straddling his hips, feeling the hard and thick length of him against your thigh. gasping, your hands shifted about, almost trying to find where to touch, when you feel a—smaller than chan’s—hand wrap around yours and guide you to his cock, which was hot, heavy, and throbbing under your touch. the hand guided you through pumping his length, twisting your hand occasionally. he used his free hand to cover his mouth, concealing any groans and whines threatening to escape. his eyes screwed shut and his eyebrows knit together tightly; holding this level of restraint was not easy for him. essentially, it was like he was fucking a fleshlight, except it was your hand helping him out. which was arguably so so much better.
“you both ready?” nodding, felix stops moving your hand, instead opting to hold your hand still and wrapped around the base, holding it still and upright. chan placed his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth against felix’s tip first before guiding you down onto him slowly, allowing you to feel the stretch. the groan you released was high as you took him in, the sensation of fullness overwhelming, your body learning to accommodate him for the first time.
chan’s voice brushed your ear before you registered his speaking, “that’s it, take him deep.” and you did, your body sinking down, taking felix fully inside you. the sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and pressure, your body aching with fullness. chan’s hands were still on your hips, his touch branding, as he rocked you into grinding on felix’s cock.
as much as the mystery turned you on, oh how you so desperately wanted to know who was under you. how was he reacting? did you feel good on him? was he enjoying filling you as much as you were being filled?
“please channie— please can i see? i wanna—” you begged through helplessly high moans. you blindly reached to fist at chan’s hair, running your nails through his locks as he continued to grind your hips, practically ignoring your pleas, “—need to know who it is !!”
felix, already completely lost in the warmth of your tight pussy, barely on the brink of restraining himself so as to not spoil his identity, looked to chan behind you with wide, tearful eyes. it seemed that the both of you were just so desperate for what you desired. chan removed your hand from his hair, and instead wrapped his hand around your throat just tight enough, cutting off your pleaful whimpers.
“you’ll get what you want, when i say so. you hear me? both of you? i call the shots around here. keep begging and i’ll remove you entirely, okay baby?” his response left no room for argument. your body seized into perfect posture in a panic.
“no—please—i wanna stay—i’m sorry,” you rush to apologise. felix nodded quickly in agreement.
“alright. i’ll forgive you just this once. are you ready for more?” once you permitted, with a slow, deliberate movement, chan entered your already-filled hole, his body joining felix’s, the two of them filling you completely. their presence inside your little pussy felt like nothing that you had ever thought about before. it was nothing like you could’ve imagined—it was better. you groaned, the sound raw and unfiltered, your body trembling with the feeling, with the pleasure, with the complete and utter surrender.
“that’s it, you’re so full baby,” chan groans, “feel us? feel how we fill you, how we claim you?”
“it’s— ‘s so much—” your voice coming in sharp moans, while you tried to adjust to the sting of being stretched so far beyond typical means. it seemed that every sense in your body was just full. it was all you could feel. the feeling hurt so good you could hardly take in any breaths, you were just so… full.
“you okay?” they remained still, awaiting your call. boy did it burn. you’d never felt so stretched in your life.
once you adjusted to the feeling, the burning stretch began to subside, instead being replaced with the burning need for more. you nodded, allowing your head to fall back onto chan’s shoulder behind you. at your affirmation, they began to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, their bodies working in tandem, chan moving out while felix moved in, and vice versa.
“slow,” he instructed. the command hid beneath the calm, almost tender lilt of his voice. his—as well as felix’s—current main priority was still taking care of his baby and making sure she was enjoying herself, after all. felix obeyed, his entry a gentle push, a slow invasion that made you gasp, your body stretching to accommodate both of them. you could feel every inch, every pulse, as they filled you to the brim. chan’s breath was a warm rush against your neck as he moaned out at the dual sensation of both your tight hole that he loves to fill so dearly, and the new feeling of felix’s cock rubbing inside alongside his. the friction of both those factors was driving him nuts. as the sensation built, a tight, coiled tension in your belly swirled deeply. with the blindfold stealing your sight, every touch bloomed hotter, every breath felt deepened, and every motion thrummed through you as if the world had narrowed to sensation of both chan and whoever the second person was inside of you alone.
so drunk off the feeling of being inside you, felix forgot about the “mystery” of his identity. his movement drew a sound from him, low and rough—one your body recognised before your mind did. beneath the blindfold, your eyes widened; a sudden jolt caught you off guard.
it’s him.
your best friend. the one who had seen every version of you, who had held your secrets, your laughter, your quiet moments. you never thought you could do this with him—not here, not like this. your voice half whimper, half whisper, “felix…?”
while felix had frozen in shock, having surprised himself at both accidentally spoiling himself, and just how much he liked hearing you call to him like that, chan was chuckling smugly, and his body still moving inside you.
“see?” he smirked, his voice a dark promise. “i knew you’d like it. well now that you know who’s here, should we take this off?” he toyed with the knot of your blindfold. you nodded desperately, and you could feel chan gently untie the silk. as the blindfold was slowly removed, the world came back into focus, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that danced before your eyes. the rush of light and clarity that hit you was overwhelming, your vision adjusting to the sudden influx of visual stimulation.
the room, once a blur of shadows and guesses of who was who, now revealed itself in vivid detail. you blinked, your eyes watering slightly as they acclimated to the brightness, the sharp edges of furniture and the soft play of light across the walls becoming clear and distinct. the sight of felix laying beneath you softened something in you. his expression was a blend of intensity and tenderness, a mix of hunger and vulnerability. the room, once a place of mystery and anticipation, now felt charged with a new kind of energy, a tangible connection forged through touch and trust. you took a deep breath, the sensation of finally being able to see a grounding force, a reminder of the reality that lay beyond the veil of sensation.
felix leant to sit up as best as he could, using one hand to prop himself up. you brought your hand to brush through felix’s hair, reaching your other hand to chan’s behind you, not allowing him to think you forgot about him (not that chan would think that anyway). felix’s eyes flicked from your eyes, down to your lips, then to chan, as if asking for permission. chan nodded once, not needing to use words—he already knew what felix was asking.
with that, felix brought his free hand to your jawline, and he leaned in. he kissed you like he had been starving for it, like every second apart had built into this single breaking point. his breath shuddered against your lips as if you were air itself. the moment your mouths met, everything dissolved—thought, distance, reason. his lips moved against yours in sharp, urgent motions, tasting like need and relief all at once.
realising he was no longer forced to be silent, his voice was a low, dirty growl against your lips mixed with heavy breaths as he began to speak. “fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his body beginning to move once again in tandem with chan’s, albeit a little rougher now than before. as if the very idea of you finally seeing him spurred him on further.
“i’ve wanted this for so long, to feel you, to taste you, to make you mine.”
and you moaned in response, the sound rough and unkempt, your body arching into the sensations, into the roughness, into the realisation of his fantasy of joining you and chan.
chan’s eyes met felix’s in a burning intensity, as if in silent communication. felix obeyed, his body moving in a perfect rough rhythm with chan’s. “you like that, don’t you?” it was not what he said, but how he said it—low, smooth, inevitable, commanding rumble. “you like taking us both, like the good girl you are, don’t you?”
“yes, chan— felix— oh my god it’s so much— feels good—” you could hardly get a word out between their constant harsh thrusts. if you felt full and all-consumed before, you most certainly felt that on a whole ‘nother level now.
you were surrounded—heat, breath, voices—all of it closing in until you couldn’t tell where one man ended and another began. every movement felt like a vow, a wordless promise that pulled you deeper. chan’s hands once again found your hips, steady and unrelenting.
“fuck, yeah?” felix groaned, using one hand to rub quick, tight circles on your clit, which made you cry out more, tears beading on your lashes as you felt your stomach coil again. “she takes so well, doesn’t she? how have you kept this all to yourself all this time?”
“i don’t know, this—shit—feels so fucking good lix, you’re— yeah— you’re so good,” chan growled, his body moving faster, harder, meeting felix’s increased confident thrusts. “come on baby, cum for us. let us feel you, let us hear you, let us make you ours.”
as you rode the waves of pleasure, the sensation of being filled completely by both men was so overwhelming. chan’s hands continued to dig into the plush flesh of your hips, his thrusts deep and powerful, demanding of more. felix was tense with restraint, met each thrust with a lift of his hips, his own release building with yours. your body trembled, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter, a knot of sensation that threatened to unravel you. you gasped, your breath coming in short, sharp pants, your body arching as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you.
“fuck, you feel so tight,” chan groaned, his voice a low, guttural sound, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside you, his cum hot and thick as it spread, spilling down your thighs and their cocks. “take it all, i know you can,” he commanded, his hips still moving, still fucking that cum back into you.
felix followed, his hips lifting, his own release pulsing into you, filling you completely, marking you as theirs. “god, yes,” he moaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and surrender, his body shaking with the force of his release. you felt it, the warmth of their releases, the sensation of being claimed, of being possessed, of being theirs completely.
as the intensity of the moment began to fade, chan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his body a warm, comforting presence. while felix’s breath slowly returned to normal, he reached up, his fingers gently brushing the hair from your forehead, a tender, almost reverent touch. you felt some tears well up—not due to sadness by any means, but due to the intense wave of emotion after coming down from such an experience, from feeling such an intense mix of satisfaction, vulnerability, and a deep sense of connection. his thumbs drawing soothing circles over the faint marks the handcuffs had made as felix silently wiped any tears away. “easy,” chan whispered, the single word a tether, a promise that the world was still soft.
“i think that’s enough for one day,” chan caressed your body as he laid you on the bed, “you did such a good job, little one. such a fuckin’ good job. i love you.”
the air felt weighted, suspended in that fragile calm that follows something vast. every breath came heavy but unhurried, the room pulsing faintly with warmth and the soft hum of settling bodies. your skin still thrummed, not with shock but with the ghost of hands, mouths, and trust.
the steady beat beneath your spine was enough to quiet everything that still shook inside you. felix was in front of you, folded small, knees bent beneath him. his hair clung to his temples, his freckles blurred with sweat. he looked at you like you were something of an angel made in the lord’s image—you were practically glowing, the sheen of sweat across your skin reflected the light in the room so beautifully. his eyes flickering between your face and chan’s hands at your shoulders.
“hey,” chan murmured, mouth at your temple, voice rough but sweet. “look at me.”
you did, blinking slow. he smiled faintly, relief breaking across his face. “there you are,” he cooed, quiet and sure, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
felix moved closer, the towel that was placed in the room prior in his hands, trembling just slightly before he steadied it against your thigh. the fabric was warm, damp from water he must have fetched. he cleaned you with a kind of reverence, every movement careful, almost apologetic.
“you alright?” felix asked, his voice small, unguarded.
you nodded. chan’s hand covered yours, anchoring it against your stomach. “she’s okay,” he whispered softly, though his own voice wavered with the edge of something raw.
felix’s gaze lifted, searching yours as if to be sure. when you smiled and nodded—faint, tired, but real—his shoulders eased, some of the anxiety easing off his chest.
“you did good,” chan said, his tone melting around the words. “both of you.”
felix looked down, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “how’d you even think of this?” he asked after a beat, voice still hushed, as though speaking too loud would shatter the calm.
chan laughed under his breath, the sound low and drowsy. “i didn’t think too hard,” he admitted, laying on your left side. “just wanted to see what trust could look like… with more than just us two. i was curious about three-ways really.”
you turned your head slightly, catching his jaw between your fingers. “and?”
his lips brushed your knuckles. “it definitely felt right.”
felix’s hand stilled, then he smiled small and luminous. “yeah,” he said softly. “it did.”
chan reached for him without thinking, fingers brushing the inside of his wrist in something that wasn’t quite a command and wasn’t quite a question. felix didn’t pull away. you patted the mattress on your right side, inviting felix to lay beside you, an invitation which he obviously accepted. he quickly curled into your side, wrapping his arm around your waist as you tucked your arm under his head.
when chan kissed you again, it wasn’t hungry. it was grounding, slow, threaded with something that went deeper than pleasure. felix watched for a moment, then leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. the three of you stayed that way—breath against breath, skin against skin—until the air settled, until all that was left was warmth and the quiet ache of safety.
“next time,” chan murmured at last, voice nearly swallowed by the hush, “we’ll take our time.”
felix smiled against your shoulder. “next time?” he teased softly.
chan’s hand trailed up your side, steady. “if she wants it.”
“really?” you grin a little, interested in exploring this very new dynamic a little more.
“as often as you want, little one.”
you blushed, a rush of heat spreading across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at the thought. felix smirked at your enthusiasm and leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath a warm rush against your skin. “promise,” he followed, his voice a low, seductive murmur as he kissed your earlobe.
and in that instant, their closeness a tether around you, you surrendered fully—to them, to the hush and thrill of the night, to the quiet, electric promise that this was only the first of many nights, each one more daring, more intimate, more yours.
wrote most of this at like 2am across a few nights so if the tenses change pls ignore!!! when i noticed i tried to fix it all but i'm not perfect so i may have missed some. ratio + not my fault + i’m just a girl </3
