Who's Going First

who's going first

(3racha x afab!reader)

part 2 for: your moans would sound nice

description: y/n comes back to the studio to hear the song the boys have been working on...and to fuck as well.

warnings: smut, foursome, unprotected sex, slight switch!reader(only to jisung), dom!changbin, dom!chan, dirty talk, praising, petnames(baby(girl), sweetheart, sweetie, etc.) prepping, reader back talks chan- so slight brat!reader, jisung being impatient, oral(fem and male receiving), deepthroat, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, some aftercare

wc: 3,000+(somewhat proof-read)

a/n: long time no see! how is everything going? you doing well, eating, sleeping, drinking some water? for me...I've been okay. the last few months I stopped writing because a lot of devastating things happened and I wasn't in the right mindset for a while. but now I'm slowly coming back. as you saw above this is part 2 to my 3racha fic(FINALLY)! I'm so happy that I've finally finished it. and I couldn't have done it without the help of a friend who stayed on the phone with me, yesterday and today. I had about 1,000 words already written, but with my friend. I wrote 1,000 yesterday and 1,000 more today. I'm so happy that this is finally finished. but enough talking. I hope you enjoy this part 2.

also fill free to comment or inbox me about this fic or upcoming ones, I love read the things you guys have to say!

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I knocked on chan's studio door, waiting for one of the boys to answer. jisung had texted- with a whole bunch of emojis that the end might I add, saying they wanted me to hear the finished product of one of their new songs, and to bring some drinks. it had been a few weeks since everything happened, I felt my body become warm just thinking about it. the door opened to a smiley changbin in a pink hoodie and joggers. 

"good evening y/n." changbin said, opening the door wide enough to let me enter. I saw jisung and chan sitting on the couch, looking very comfy man-spreading on the tiny couch. "hey guys." I said, sitting the drinks I brought with me on the desk. "hi, y/n-nie, did you get my favorite?" jisung asked, standing up to grab his cup. "of course I did." I said, grabbing his and putting it in his hand. he immediately took a sip, "hmmm, every time it feels like I'm drinking it for the first time again." he said, throwing his head back then taking his seat back on the couch. I laughed as I handed chan and changbin their drinks as well. that's when I looked at what they were wearing. chan wearing his iconic black muscle tee and shorts. jisung wearing a black hoodie over and jeans with rips in the knees.

"you boys look nice today." I said, sitting in between jisung and chan. "thank you, y/n." changbin said with a wide smile as he took a sit on the chair in front of the desk, spinning around. "you don't look too bad yourself." chan said, with blushed ears. "you mean the one of the five whole outfits that I own, that look good together that I've worn multiple times." I said with a laugh, making the boys laugh too. "yes." chan said. "okay enough small talk!" jisung said, grabbing the attention. "I want y/n to hear the song." he continued, while slightly bouncing in his seat and bumping into my shoulder.  "jisung, she just got here. we haven't asked her about her day." changbin said, kicking jisung in the foot. jisung whined and looked at me. I laughed and told them about my day.

"so you didn't do much? okay! SONG TIME!" jisung yelled. chan laughed and changbin rolled his eyes. "damn, yes I want to hear the song now. impatient brat." I said towards jisung, who just stuck his tongue at me and I stuck mine right back at him. changbin turned around and clicked around on the laptop, till an alluring melody and slow bass filled the room. I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the music enter my body.

 a r&b intro started with changbin singing including chan in the back, then fell into the first verse with jisung rapping. I felt the boys' eyes on me, watching my reaction. soon the chorus began, the same as the intro, just more full and enticing. my head bobbing the music. next was the second verse, changbin fast rapping the first part then chan slow rapping the next. the mixes of the two different rap styles, feeling more and more captivating. then was the bridge of the song, jisung was singing then chan was next. that's when I was caught off guard with familiar sounds in the background, right in the middle of the two voices. I stopped moving, my eyes snapping wide open as I felt my cheeks heat up. jisung started smirking at a giggly chan and changbin. soon the song ended with chan vocals and the same slow r&b beginning.

“wow” I said, not really having any words. “what’d you think of it y/n?” chan asked. I looked at him and smiled. “It sounded amazing like always channie.” I said. chan laughed and looked down. “what about the bridge?” jisung asked. I whipped my head to jisung. “it sounded sexy, you pervert.” I said. “you’re just as much.” jisung said. “did you invite me here to listen to the song or just to fuck me again?” I asked, looking at all three boys. “both.” changbin said, leaning forward, resting his arms on his legs, I laughed. “alright then.” I said, “who’s going first this time?” I continued with a smirk.

“jisung.” changbin said, nodding his head to him.

very quickly, clothes met the floor while kissing jisung as I got on top of him. I ran my fingers through the back his hair, pulling on it a little. his hands exploring my body, giving squeezes here and there. I moved my hips to feel some more of his hard on that was growing under me. he groaned into my mouth as our tongues fought over dominance. I made my way from his lips to his neck, leaving a wet trail in the process. I sucked right where his neck and collarbone meet, making him moan loud.

“fuck, that feels nice baby.” he said, pressing my body more into his. my hands traveled down his chest and brushed over his nipples, down his abs till they made it to his cock. I quickly got off jisung and sat on my knees in front of him. keeping eye contact with him as I did a bold long lick up his length. jisung’s head fell back as he groaned, keeping eye contact though. 

“don’t tease him too much, y/n.” changbin said. I looked back at him and smile at him. “of course not. I want to feel him inside me this time.” I said as I jerked jisung off with a firm grip. I turned back around, kissing the tip of the head. slowly pushing him inside my mouth, not stopping till I made it almost completely down to his pelvis. jisung’s hips bucked up out of pleasure. he ran his fingers through my hair and started to guide me how he wanted.

“you’re doing so good. getting it all nice and wet.” jisung said, making me whine on him. “want me to prep her for your cock jisung?” I over heard changbin ask. “yeah.” jisung groaned out. changbin left his chair and shuffled close to me, kneeling down at the level I was at.

I felt changbin’s hands grab my waist and trail down my legs, making me spread my legs naturally. changbin’s hand cupped my sex, groaning at the feeling of how wet I was. “baby is already so wet.” he said as he pushed one finger into me. I moaned around jisung’s cock, bucking my hips into changbin’s hand. “focus on jisung, baby. I’ll do the work here.” changbin said, rubbing my ass. I closed my eyes as jisung guided this hand to my hair, pulling on it a little.

“you’re doing so good baby.” jisung said through his moans. I hallowed my cheeks harder around him at the praise. I felt changbin add a second finger, scissoring inside me making me pop off jisung and jerked him with my hand. “god, do I make this hard every time you see or think of me?” I asked jisung, making him groan and changbin stop his movements below.

“oh she’s feeling bold this time.” i heard chan say in the background. I turned my head to him, “yeah, and what can you do about it? nothing as of right now, it’s jisung’s time.” I said, looking back to jisung. “right baby?” I said, with fake innocent eyes and a firm grip on his cock. “yeah, fuck off chan.” jisung said. “watch it.” chan said, I giggled and was about to take jisung back in my mouth. 

“come on y/n.” jisung said, grabbing my hand to help stand me up. changbin removed his fingers and sat back down in his seat. “let’s get a move on baby.” he said, making me sit onto his lap. with my legs on either side on his, he grabbed a hold of his cock and slowly pushed down inside me. feeling his length fill me up nicely, so firm and hard in me,

“feels so fucking nice. god damn.” jisung said, grabbing my hips. I moaned as my pelvic bone met his. rolling my hips in a circle to get used to his size. “you feel good too sungie.” I said, looping my arms around his neck before kissing him on the lips. jisung squeezed my hips as I slowly brought my hips up and going back down. breaking the kiss as I was working up the pace with each bounce. “fuck you’re so tight y/n. shit, i’m not gonna last long.” jisung said. “that’s fine sungie, you be good and cum whenever you need too.” I said out of breath, making jisung throw his head back once again. “just keep bouncing like that and i’ll cum in no time.” he said back with his eyes closed. I closed my eyes too, focusing on the feeling of his cock inside me.

“angle your hips a little more y/n.” I heard chan say next to us. “be quiet channie, it’s jisung’s time.” I whined out, but I did what he said anyway and gave out the biggest whine.

with the new angle, jisung’s cock hit my g-spot perfectly every time I came down. “oh fuck.” I said, pushing my head into jisung’s sweaty neck. i pressed my lips on his ear and whispered in it. “you’re doing so good baby. I love how you feel inside me. I can’t wait for you to feel me up.” I said, before leaning back and holding his head up- making him open and lock eyes with me. “you can do that for me right sungie?” i asked as I bounced harder, feeling my first climax coming fast. “I’m about to cum.” jisung said, as he started pushing his hips up to meet mine. “please cum for me jisung.” I said as I felt myself tighten around him. with one final thrust from him, he came inside me, triggering mine at the same time. both of us moaning and whining at the feeling. jisung held on to me tight, not letting go. taking some time to calm down as I messed with the back of his hair as we waited

after some minutes, jisung slowly pulled me off him, making me hiss. i sat down in the middle of the couch, between him and chan. “wow, that was amazing. i loved everything second of that.” jisung said in his hyper self again, like he didn’t just get down fucking me. making the other boys laugh. 

“still need a few minutes y/n or we start my turn.”changbin asked, with a smirk. “i just need a sip of my drink and I’ll good.” I said. changbin handed over my drink that was on the table, “you better be for me.” he said as I grabbed the drink from him. I felt my cheeks heat up at his comment.

I took a few sips from my drink before standing up and walking over to the table to place my drink down. I turned to changbin and smiled at him, “hey there.” he said. “hi.” I said as i sat in his lap. he tilted his head up and place his lips onto to mine. soon the simple kiss turned into a heated makeout session. changbin pushed his tongue into my mouth, making me groan. his soft lips left my lips to my jaw, down my neck. leaving sloppy wet heavy kisses all over, sucking hard in areas that made me whine. I pressed down into his crotch, trying create friction. 

“no sweetie, stay still for me.” changbin said, holding on to my waist. I quickly stopped moving and waited for changbin to do or saying something. “take my clothes off me baby.” he said as his hands slid down to my body, onto my thighs. i slid my hands under his hoodie and felt up his body. he leaned his head back, till holding eye contact with me. I pushed his hoodie up, slowly working up his body. he lifted his arms up as the hoodle came off. I leaned down and kissed down his chest. I got onto the floor and pulled at his joggers, making him lift his hips. his underwear came off along with his joggers. I looked at him as my hands slid between his thighs as I pressed them apart. I kissed his thighs as I made my way to his hard on.

“just get it wet enough for me to slide right in.” changbin said as I kissed my way on his cock. I took my tongue and licked up and down a few times before taking him slowly into my mouth. bobbing up and down each time coming up, circling my tongue around his tip. changbin bucked his hips up, making me gag on him. "will you let me fuck your throat?" changbin asked, I nodded my head with my mouth on him. he carefully stood up and grabbed the back of my head. bringing his hips back before thrusting into my mouth, quickly picking up the pace. I closed my eyes and focused on not gagging. I felt my spit coming out of my mouth down his cock, falling to the floor and my thighs and hands. 

“she takes cock in her mouth so well, doesn’t she changbin?” jisung asked in the background. “yes she does, fuck.” changbin answered. “you’re gonna have feel her mouth.” he said to chan. “i’ll have to next time, when I’m not fucking last. I won’t last if I feel that pretty little mouth of hers.” chan said, I whined hearing his low voice enter my ears. changbin removed his cock of my mouth and sat back down in the chair behind him. he patted his lap, making me standing up. “turn around baby. face the boys, I want them to see your pretty face as you ride me.” changbin said. I turned around and went to sit on his lap. he grabbed my waist with one hand and I felt him pushed his cock into me as I sat on him. my head fell forward, hair falling into my face and moaning at the same time. I placed my hands on his knees and looked back up at jisung and chan.

jisung was still naked, slowly playing with his dick in hand. chan had his tank top off now and pants just down enough for the cock to be out. chan spat in his hand and jerked his cock off, watching me carefully. “come on baby.” I heard changbin say, pushing his hips up, making me gasp. I lifted myself once and back down. “oh god.” i said as I picked up the pace. not too fast, but enough to feel the knot building up inside. “you look so good.” I heard jisung said. feeling their eyes on me, hearing the wetness that was being made from me and changbin. I tightened up around him. “shit, you’re already about to cum?” changbin said, but I didn’t respond. “huh baby?” he said, grabbing my waist. “yes binnie.” I whined out. “open your eyes y/n-ie.” I hear chan say. my eyes snapped open and looked at both the boys with watery eyes and a wide mouth. I was starting to lose my pace, changbin quickly noticed and started helping me- guiding up and down. 

“cum all over me y/n.” changbin said in the low voice, his hips thrusting up as mine pace down. mind went out as I came all of him with my thighs shaking. “oh fuck.” changbin said as he kept going to reach his high. “cum in her bin, just like jisung did. make her even more messy for me.” I heard chan say. I let out a high pitched moan as changbin filled me up with his cum. changbin groaning with a tight grip on my waist. “shit.” changbin said, rubbing his hands up and down my body. “your tits looked amazing as you were riding him y/n.” jisung commented, I busted out laughing. “thank you sungie.” I said. I looked over to chan who was already looking at me with smirk. I slowly lifted myself off of changbin and slowly made my way to chan. he hugged me as I sat on him. I brought my lips to his and gave him a heated kiss. before it could go farther.

“I gotta use the bathroom guys.” jisung said as he quickly stood up. we watched as he put back on his clothes in a mess and left the room. chan chuckled and looked at me. “you’ll be brave with jisung and a good girl for changbin. how are you going to act for me?” he asked with his head tilted to the side. “I don’t know. how do you want me to act?” I answered back, tilting my head with his. chan smiled before he flipped me into my back on the now open space on the coach, I yelped at the fast movement. he climbed over my body, hands on other side of my head, “how about you lay there and take my cock like a good girl I know you can be.” chan said before pecking my lips and heading to my neck. kissing down to my chest, taking my right nipple into his mouth. “ah channie.” I said as my hands ran through his hair and stayed. he kissed down my navel til he was right above my clit. 

his eyes locked with mine as he brought his hand up my slit, gathering the mixture of cum that was spilling out. popping his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste. his fingers slid out and quickly into me as his mouth came in contact with my clit. I cried out at the overstimulation, pumping his fingers in and out at a slow pace as his tongue played with my clit. “chan.” I moaned out. I arched my back and rolled my hips into his face. his left hand gripped my thigh tightly. the sounds in the room would make even the devil turn a blind eye. “fuck, I wanna cum channie.” I said, as I gripped got tighter on his head. he moaned with his mouth on my clit, curling his fingers into onto my g-spot. I tightened around his fingers and my high hit my like wave. he took his mouth off me, “good girl.” chan said, taking his fingers out before hitting up.

he grabbed my legs and lifted them up, slipping right between my legs. he brought one leg down as it fell off the side of the couch and held the other up to his shoulder. chan grabbed his cock, stroking it once. “think you can held my cock today babygirl?” he asked. I nodded my head as I grabbed his hips and rolled mine into his. “please.” I begged. chan rubbed his cock over my slit before pushing in, moaning at the feeling.

“so tight still, after being used twice before me. but also messy for me.” chan said as he pulled out and pushed back in. I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of how full i was. “feels so good channie.” I said, digging my fingertips into his skin. he hissed at the feeling and snapped his hips quickly into me, making cry out. “take it baby, I know you can.” chan huffed out, hanging on to my thigh, picking up a fast pace. my head fell to the side to see changbin watching the show. I moaned and tightened around chan. “so good.” chan said, placing one hand next to my head again. I turned my back to him and slid my arms up to his back.

chan placed his forehead on mine as we kept eye contact. “I’m about to cum channie.” I said, dragging my nails down his back. “oh shit, hold it a little longer for me.” he said closing his eyes, giving me harder and faster thrusts. I nearly screamed, chan quickly brought his left hand to my neck, giving it a light squeeze. my eyes rolled to the back of my head as my orgasm washed over me. chan gave some more hard thrusts before cumming hard, deep inside me. 

chan laid his body on mind with head in the creek of my neck. after a few seconds of silence, the door opened up. we snapped our heads to the door to see jisung poking his head in. “just saying I heard you scream.” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. I blushed and hid into chan’s chest as the boys chuckled. chan sat up and slid his cock out of me, making my whence. “changbin, hand me some tissues please.” chan said, holing out his hand. changbin grabbed them and placed them in his hand. chan cleaned me up and help me sit up. jisung helped me put on his hoodie he wearing that he had over his shirt, kissing my forehead once my head popped through the hole. I stood up and put my underwear and pants back on as chan and changbin put their clothes back on. we all sat down in our original spots, I laid my head on jisung’s lap and brought my legs up on chan’s lap. “take a nap y/n for a few minutes.” jisung said, running his fingers through my hair. “you sure?” I asked, looing up at him. “yeah, we have to review a few songs before we leave for the day.” chan said, rubbing my legs, massaging them a little. “okay.” I said, closing my eyes and almost falling asleep immediately.

“y/n-ie.” I heard as someone was rubbing my arm. I hummed out and turned my head. “we’re done here. we can leave now.” the voice said. I opened my eyes and saw changbin. I smiled and sat up and stretched my arms and back. we stood up grabbing our things we had laying around.

“let’s head to the dorm and watch a movie with some take out, I'll pay for it.” chan said, smiled sweetly as he picked up the left over clothes on the floor to bring with us. “that’s sounds good to me.” I said, looking at jisung and changbin. they nodded their head, “hell yeah!” jisung said, opening the door. changbin threw his arm around my shoulders as we followed jisung out the building.

just like that <3

{gammer!felix x reader}

a/n: this was pure self-indulgence (also for my beste who's in love with felix) - masterlist <3

warnings: oral (m receiving), pet names, slight exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes

summary: felix has been spending a little too much time gaming, and not enough time with you (so basically you helping felix under the desk)

-

you felt as though your life was on an endless cycle. everyday you would do the same four activities; wake up, go to school, come home, and finally sleep. of course there would be the occasional assignment due on a late night, and exams that you would have to spend your whole weekend studying for. however, everyday would relatively be the same as the last. that is until, your boyfriend felix had a weekend off.

thankfully, you had no additional assignments, or exams you had to study for on that weekend. it was almost meant to be you think. however, the weekend that you had planned in your head differed from the one you're experiencing right now.

so here you are now, laying on your stomach on your leather couch in the living room. while your beloved felix has been gaming for the past three hours.

normally you wouldn't be as upset, as on a day-to-day schedule, you would be spending most, if not all your time with felix. nonetheless, with school and other schedules occuring, you haven't spent much time with felix. thus meaning, you haven't spent time with him intimately.

this has been bothering you for the past week and a half. you don't always mean to get so needy, it's just that you can't help the thoughts that come to you late at night. the replays of past your orgasms, and your cherished memories with felix just add on to your neediness.

as a consequence, all that build up of longing to be with felix just causes something within you to snap. so you get off the couch, and head into the room where felix was. just before you're about to enter, you hear his voice. his oh so attractive deep laugh, fulminating through the door.

your mind just wanders. wanderers to what his moans sound like, the high pitch ones that he makes just when he is just about to reach climax, or the deep groans he would let out while you're on your knees, tongue swirling around the tip of his-

you cannot handle this anymore, you think. turning the handle and opening the door quietly, you see him sitting on a chair, with a monitor in front of him, playing whatever game he’s playing. he looks so beautiful, his hair a bit messy from staying at home, and his black shirt with rolled up sleeves, exposing his toned arms.

it was quiet in the room, the only sounds to be heard were the clicks of his keyboard. your eyes focus on his hands, eyeing his fingers.

you make your way to him, tapping him on the shoulder to let him know your here, you guess he never heard you come in with his headset on. he looks up at you and smiles instantly, how adorable you think. how incredibly cute.

"hey baby, how are you?" he asks, his smile is too precious. "i'm good, just wanted to spend some time with you," you answer back.

"okay then, i'll finish this game. or you can sit on my lap while i play?" he asks, eyes still on the screen. his tone is still the same, however you wished he could just pay a little more attention to you.

you seat yourself on his lap while he's playing. you observe the room, its dark, the only light is coming from felix's computer. "can't they hear you?" you ask, pointing to his headset. "oh no, i put it on mute," he answers.

you lay there for a little while, enjoying the warmth felix was providing you. enjoying the feel of felix's hair as you play with it. the occasional 'fuck' and 'shit' felix would say under his breath, however. that you were enjoying the most. but after a while, it's starting to become tedious, just doing nothing.

so you decide that you would sneakily tease felix. acting as if your a bit uncomfortable, you'll move around on his lap. you do so, rolling your hips a few inches back and forth. to no one's surprise, felix is unresponsive. perhaps you didn't do enough? maybe you should roll your hips a tad more? just as you were about to continue, you notice felix pressing on the mute button.

"don't think that i don't know what you're doing, dear," felix says, his eyes are still on the screen in front of him. "i'm not doing anything, just trying to get comfortable," you retort back, faux innocence laced within your voice.

"well, you're making my pants uncomfortable with your antics. if you're needy, just say it and i can take care of you after my game." he says, finally looking at you in the face. you think that you can't wait, it's just been too long since you've been with felix. so you get off his lap, and bend down under the desk so you're facing his knees.

"baby, wait. please don't- not right now i'm in the middle of a game-" felix get caught off by your hand reaching up and palming his semi-hard cock through his pants, him letting out a small moan.

his lips parted as if he was going to say something, however you hear a voice coming from his headset. he tries to talk to the person, however he stumbles a bit on his words as your hand begins to move faster and faster.

in no time he's hard. felix looks down at you, telling you to stop while he's still talking to someone. you don't comply, instead you pull down his pants, and take out his cock.

"no baby, don't do that. they're gonna hear us- fuck," he says, moaning into his words. you lick a long stripe of his shaft, until you reach his tip. giving it little licks, and looking up at his with doe eyes. as if you're not doing lewd things to him.

"we can't do this now, they'll hear me. fuck, don't... use your tounge like that ah-" he says, whispering to you, and leaning his head back, giving in to the pleasure you're giving him.

you start to suck on his tip, while you left hand jerks the rest of him. and the right plays with his balls. then you try to take a bit more of him in your mouth, however your gag reflux kicks in before you could do much. "no no, if you're going to do this then, take it all in your fucking mouth," he says, while his hand pushes your head down further.

you try your best not to gag, your hands grabbing onto his legs for support as he fucks your mouth rigorisly. felix lets out little grunts and swears under his breath. his pace quickens, and his hips stutter a bit, you know that he's close. so you take on from here. you pull off his dick with a small 'pop' sound that follows, and lean down to suck on his balls, while your hand jerks him harder and faster. squeezing the tip a little as you continue.

"i'm gonna cum. open your mouth for me, you're going to take all my cum, okay love?" he asks. you open your mouth, and stick your tongue out a little and he strokes himself until he's cuming on your tounge, some of it going on your face.

he sits in his chair panting for a bit until he speaks again. "fuck, i don't care about the game anymore, i think i'll have teach you a lesson." he says to you with half lidded eyes. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second.

-

a/n: heyy guys, this ff was kind of for me lmao. i just wanted to write this real quick cause i couldn't get this senario out of my head after seeing all the taste teasers on tiktok smh- anyways i hope you enjoyed it!!! i love you all, and make sure to eat and drink water properly <3

BETTER WHEN IT FEELS WRONG

📓One-shot, Explicit (5.8k) 🖤Lee Know x (afab) Reader 🪐College AU 🏷️Slight angst, jealousy, tsundere galore Minho who is next level whipped, that’s why there’s fluff frosting, mention of dubcon purely as a taboo fantasy, public unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, oral sex, breeding kink if you squint. Filth y’all. It’s filth. 📬 Requested by anon 🕸️

You and Minho are two friends attached at the hip. He wants to be attached to your hip alright, but from a different angle. If only you stopped frustrating the crap out of him by insisting on not taking the hint.

Or pretending that you don’t.

Keep reading

I'm used to it *MoodBoard*

mafia!bang chan x vet!reader

description: you come home to see your best friend and roommate, felix, is not home yet. not unusual...til it hit 4am. your worries were answered when you heard banging coming from the front door. only to open the door and have a lot change in a short amount of time.

warnings: mafia!skz, two gun fight scenes(one major & one minor), reader has and anxiety attack & passes out, wound & blood to one character, pet names(mainly sweeheart), smut, unprotected sex, oral(fem & male receiving), shower sex, out in the open during oral so slight exhibition, dirty talk

wc: 6,000+

Posted!: here

bad habit. CHAN — 방찬

pair. bad boy! chris x f. reader. | warnings. mentions of violence, language, mentions of scars, mentions of abuse/neglect, smut, unprotected sex, filthy talk, slight breeding kink. | word count.

synopsis. chris has never asked or needed anyone’s help—except yours.

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater 🤍

“Don’t call 911.”

You stare at the man on your front steps. The scar running across half of his face is paler than usual tonight, contrasting against the bright red painted on his lips.

Blood. Still, that doesn’t surprise you. What does—

The deep burgundy on his white shirt, the way his veiny hands are clutching his left side, his body leaning towards it, curling weakly around the wound, legs clad in black sprawled over the stairs.

This has been a reoccurring image; it’s practically stitched behind your eyelids, his hundreds of injuries, the way he remains bleeding out in front of your house. The familiarity of it doesn’t make it any less distressing to witness.

And yet, the why—it’s never answered. It lingers over the both of you; hangs like a cloud every time you find him there, that designated place of his in your life, with the stench of iron, and sweat.

He can’t stand the way you’re looking at him.

“Stab wound?” you asked, tilting your head at him. Despite your mild annoyance, you couldn’t help but worry.

“Stab wound?” you asked, tilting your head at him. Despite your mild annoyance, you couldn’t help but worry.

He seemed to be in more pain than usual.

“Almost,” he replied, and it was a breathy thing. “He couldn’t get close enough,” he choked on that last word, groaning.

You sighed, and helped him to stand, propping his arm around your shoulder, carrying the weight of him up the steps and into your home. As soon as you opened the door, he dropped to the floor, panting.

He was scaring you. “Chris, I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“No,” he exhaled sharp, squeezing his eyes shut, “no hospital.”

That didn’t sound very convincing.

“Please.” At that, you turned to look at him. Chris never said please, never begged for anything. Barely asked for help, his pride too big, his need to appear independent, and self sufficient most important—except when it came to you.

Hell, you consider yourself an overnight private nurse at this point. You had only but a basic knowledge of first aid, but always kept a well supplied kit under your bed, exactly for this reason.

When Chris first showed up on your doorstep, busted face, bruised ribs, you almost turned him away. You’d briefly dated, months back, until you realized the fights would never stop. The thrill of a punch was more important than you. So you ended it, and genuinely thought you would have nothing to do with him, ever again.

Cut to two months later, past midnight. All black shirt drenched, hair sticking to his forehead, pale face—you took him in because it was late. Then because he had nowhere else to go. The excuses blurred together, after a while. Every time was the last time.

A year later, you’re here. You grab the red box, dropping your stuff on the mattress, and rush to him.

You don’t focus too much on what you’re doing, only trying to be quick and precise, assessing the injury, picking out what you need to disinfect, tend, cover. Your fingers work the buttons on his shirt, exposing tan skin, and muscle.

Ignoring, you blinked at the side of his stomach. It didn’t look deep, which was good, but it was still nasty. He’d just barely recovered from a kick to the abdomen, or what he said was a kick.

It looked more like someone had smashed a chair on him. It wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

“I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” you mumble, cleaning around the big gash, wiping the blood away.

Chris was intently staring at your face, the pain turning into static; an uncomfortable buzzing that would eventually numb to nothing. The pain was always temporary, and then the itch would come back, hard to tune out. Chris succumbed to it every fucking time.

There was no reason to it, no clear explanation. His brain was just wired that way, and he’d decided to live with it. The life he led was going nowhere, and the most terrifying part of it all—he couldn’t care less.

He didn’t give a single fuck.

“You only have to ask, baby girl,” he flirted, wincing at the motions it took to remove the shirt. His shoulders were sore—of course, that was the least of the damage.

“Don’t be absurd,” you glared at him through your eyelashes. “Keep this on the cut, will you?” Your fingers guided his hand on top of the cut, applying pressure with the cloth you used to clean around it.

“I missed you,” he mused, doing as told.

“You saw me two weeks ago.”

He chuckled at that, and immediately regretted it, almost doubling over with cough. You scolded him, told him to keep quiet. He complied, silently, but didn’t stop smiling.

After that, you ran to your small bathroom, wetting a towel with warm water, and washing your hands. When you were sure the blood had stopped flowing, you cleaned the wound one more time, gently fingering some antibiotic cream on the angry looking thing.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, wrapping sterile bandage around his torso. You secured it with a pin, and leaned back to admire your work.

“All done.” You paused as you said that, peaking at his face. “You know how to take care of that, don’t you?” You pointed at his lip.

Chris nodded, already ahead of you on that. You took a deep breath, and nodded back, starting to get up. His hand shot out, stopping you.

“Thank you.” His eyes, peering over at yours—they looked almost angelic. Perhaps it was an illusion of the moon, illuminating on his face from the window next to him.

Or perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Yeah. Of course.” You bunched up his bloody shirt in your hand, and went to throw it in the washing machine, along with the rest of your laundry.

It had become a habit of sorts, doing washes with his clothes. It sort of gave you a reason to complete that dreaded chore. Walking over to your closet, you grabbed one of his many spare shirts that stayed in your house after visits like this, and threw it at him.

Chris had already tended to his lip, and eyebrow. Grasping the corner of the wall, he slowly slid up, hissing at the strain and effort it took to stand.

“You’re staying here,” you said, on stand by to help him move to your bed. He nodded, his face scrunched up in pain. You let him use you as a crutch, sitting him down on the soft surface.

After a few seconds of deep breaths, he turned his head to look at you. His broad shoulders, and defined chest distracted you way more than you cared to admit. You prompted him to wear the shirt, taking off your own.

The two of you had never been shy to each other’s bodies. He’s seen you naked more times than he’s seen you clothed, he knows every crevice of you, every freckle. And you do, too. You remember everything. Sometimes you wish you didn’t.

“What started it this time?” You asked, conversationally, reaching for your oversized T-shirt by the edge of your headboard.

Chris whirled his frame, his back to you, as he struggled to fit the shirt over his head without irritating the wound too much.

And there they were. Dozens of scars, all faded with time, but bumpy, evident even in a dark room. They looked like slashes, knife or whip marks, you’d never got a clear answer for that. Or for anything, really.

He had all these scars, on every part of him, and he still longed for more—got himself in trouble just to feel them forming again, and again. Once, you accused him of living in the past, of thriving off of getting hurt. It was a mean thing to say, but you’d said it anyway.

It was true. You’d seen it in his eyes, back then. He knew nothing else—no other way. Getting physical was second nature to him. But it wasn’t to you, and you had grown sick with obsessing over your phone, waiting to get that one dreadful call.

The call that would break you, ruin everything. You broke up with him hoping that would bring him to his senses. If anything, it only made it worse.

Your fingers reached to trace them, the ghosts of his childhood. His body stilled, froze under your touch. You think he’d stopped breathing, until he exhaled shakily.

“The motherfucker had it coming,” he said through his teeth. “He messed with Felix.” As if that would explain everything.

It did, to no one’s surprise. Chris would die for that Lee Felix—he’d been his longest friend, dating from their childhood back in Australia.

He had a tattoo, located at the top of his spine, right under the nape of his neck. It was a traditional looking cross, but there was a snake wrapping around it, engulfing it in its leathery embrace. He’s had that since you met him. He got that for his friend, he’d said. Snakes symbolize rebirth.

His friend had died in a car accident, the winter before you saw him at the bar you worked at. Still work at. His name was Changbin, and ‘he loved dark shit like that.’

Chris got that in his memory. That’s the only ink he has.

But the scars. The scars had no answer. The scars ran deeper than anything else. He’d always been self conscious of the one extending from the bottom of his brow, over his nose, to the apple of his cheek. It had made such a strong impression on you, when you saw it. You thought it looked badass. You said so.

He’d smirked at you, twirling his drink with one hand, a thick chain adorning his wrist.

“Isn’t that a red flag, sweetheart? Liking men with scars?”

You’d smiled softly, pouring a cocktail you’d just made to a glass with a lime wedge on it.

“Not if the scar isn’t their fault.”

His eyes darkened at that, face somber. “And how would you know?”

It was clear you’d pushed a button, somewhere, but it was way too late to backtrack then. So you replied, “You don’t look the type to slice their own face open.”

He’d asked for your name then. That same night, you found him waiting outside, leaning against his motorcycle. It was something like three in the morning. He looked wide awake.

He took you home, and fucked you against the doorframe. You couldn’t even make it past the hall. Ever since then, you clung to each other.

And then you didn’t. He never stopped.

“Can I ask about them, now?” You kept your voice small, barely above a whisper.

Chris shuddered, but said nothing for a long time. Then he wore the shirt at once, still facing away from you. You wore yours too, almost giving up on his replying.

Then he spoke.

“My step dad was a drunk,” he started, his tone rough. “He beat my mom, and constantly fucking threatened me. Many times—he’d kick me out, throw all my shit to the streets. My mom tried to reason with him,” he chuckled, dryly, “there was no reasoning with him. He had a pocketknife. It was always out whenever I was around.”

He stopped, letting the words register in your ears. Tears brimmed at the edges of your eyes, and you let the spill freely. You knew it’d be fucked up, but never this. This was child abuse—it was horror.

He buried his face in his hand, rubbing his face raw. Then he turned to look at you. His brows rose at your tears, surprised to see you cry like this, for him. He reached out and wiped them away, one by one.

“One night, my mom was asleep. I’d come home late. He made sure I knew—that was his house. I lived under his roof.”

You got a hold of yourself, taking in his words as he caressed your face. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He seemed to know that—he made no move. Lines. You’d established lines, and despite his rebellious personality, he would never cross them.

Because he cared about you way too fucking much. Because if this was the only way he could have you, he sure as hell would not jeopardize it—for nothing.

Even if his body missed yours like crazy. Even if he dreams of you naked underneath him, giving in to him, letting him take care of you the way he knows. The way he’s learned, the way you’ve taught him.

“Thank you telling me this,” you laid a hand on his thigh, a sad smile stretching your mouth. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

He stared at your hand on him. “It changes nothing.”

You had to put some space between you. Getting up, you walked to the bathroom to wash your face. He watched you walk away from him—you seem to do that so well.

Him, on the other hand. Anchored down, setting camp outside you, waiting. Until you change your mind—until you accept this, this thing between you, until you invite him in again.

You must still know—how he loves you. The fire had been lit long ago, perhaps when he first laid eyes on you, perhaps longer still, even before. It’s still burning, but it’s a desperate attempt—there’s little wood left, and no kindling.

Still, he waits. Still, he loves you. Chris has never known how to give up.

“Who was with you?” You ask, trying to break the impenetrable wall that’s started to build between you again.

“Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung,” he replied, feeling your intent. “We were just drinking. You can ask them—they’ll vouch for me. I didn’t start it.”

You snorted at that, dabbing your face with a towel, and turning off the light. “Of course they’ll take your side. You’re leading a cult, Bang Chan. Have you not noticed how blindly people follow you?”

His eyes followed you as you comfortably went around your safe space, putting on your skincare, brushing your hair. He felt like an invader, interrupting your life like this, a beggar scrapping for crumbs—and yet you acted like he didn’t, like he was part of your daily routine.

Like he belonged in your room at one in the morning, wrapped in gauze, half drunk. Like before.

“How long will you make me wait?” It fell out of his mouth, before he could even second guess it.

Your hands stopped mid air, the question too honest, too raw. A dare, almost.

“Chris…” You wouldn’t look at him, instead resuming what you were doing, shaken.

He sat where you left him, arms crossed over his naked chest, all muscle, eyes piercing you through the mirror in front of you. You let your gaze graze over his frame in the dark. The remnants of his touch, the way his breath would fall over your breasts, dropping kisses on your skin—and then, finally, the entering, the gasp, the intoxicating spreading and stinging of his cock buried deep in you—

You missed him more than words could describe. But the fear—it had its vines wrapped tight around you. He’s still fighting, disregarding his life, thinking so very little of himself…

You couldn’t mean so much to someone. You couldn’t be the only thing that made them happy—the only thing that filled their empty spaces.

Chris was a strong man. A mountain, something you couldn’t easily shake, something that seemed to withstand the passage of time, and nature, and the wrath of other men. But a mountain chips away, too. Little by little, the change so small, not visible to the naked eye.

One day, it would grumble and crumble. Fall apart entirely. Something that once stood so big and unbeatable, suddenly reduced to rock and debris.

“You’ve any idea how much I love you?” His voice filled with emotion, growing deep with yearning. “How much it takes for me to not reach out and touch you how I know you love being touched?”

“We were doing so well,” you mutter, tears welling up. “Why’d you have to ruin it?”

“‘Cause it’s bullshit, isn’t it?” There’s resentment in his tone, now. He’s shaking with purpose. “You feel it as much as I do, (Y/N). I know you fucking do. Stop trying to hide from me. From me—any other motherfucker you can fool, but not me.”

“I know you like the back of my hand.”

Your body shot up from the chair, before your mind could begin to process what you were doing—you opened the front door, your face collapsing with grief.

“Leave.” A weak attempt.

He made no move to do so. Instead, he rose to his feet, hand clutching the headboard, evidently in pain. You felt like a hypocrite, helping him with his wound, but throwing him out of your house the moment he speaks the truth.

You try not to waver.

“Close the door, angel,” he spoke softly, like how one would talk to a child.

You blink, tears blurring his broad figure. You think you should, like maybe you’re overreacting, but it’s him, it’s Chris, and you’re sure he’d never tell you to do anything he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t regret.

He walks towards you, slowly, grunting along the way. He leans against the hall’s wall, head falling on the cool of it, and he looks at you. He looks at you with the weight of him, the history of you, his love that still remains.

He looks at you because he sees it back. It’s staring him straight in the face. Why would you be crying, otherwise?

“You have to stop, Chris,” you say and it chokes you. The wave of it. It drowns you both.

“He’s not here anymore. He’s gone.”

And you mean his stepfather. You mean Changbin. You mean the little kid that had to fight just to survive—just to have a roof over his head, just to protect his mom when his mom wouldn’t protect him. You cry for all of them, because they shaped who is standing in front of you.

Chris had to glue every single piece of what made him. But you cannot glue a person back together. It’s going to be all wrong—you saw that, too. You tried to understand it.

His dark eyes were glistening. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving. He tried to pretend; tried to ignore how his throat closed up, how his chest hurt.

“Stop what?” But he knew. He knew.

“Fighting back. You won. You’re okay,” you exhale sharply, smiling at him, but it’s a sad thing.

And then, at last, you sob. Everything you’ve been boxing up, everything you’ve wanted to say—it surges out of you. A tsunami high enough to bury the entire city of him underwater.

Bang Chan withstands, as he always does.

His arm reaches out, and crushes you into him, slamming the door shut with his foot. You go, because you’re tired of fighting as well. You’d like to rest now. Tell yourself it’s going to be alright at the end.

You belong with this man, after all. The tide keeps bringing him back to you.

“Let me in,” he repeats feverishly on your neck. His hot breath is scorching. “Let me in, let me in…it’s me, angel.”

It was. You nod against him, your tears still sweeping, flowing, bursting. If you’re hurting him, he doesn’t show it, instead tightening his arm around you, allowing you to accept him. And you do—you open up like a flower after heavy rain. You show him everything.

Chris leaves a kiss on the top of your head. “For you, anything. For you, the world,” he whispers in your hair, and you believe it.

He’d rather die before he loses you again. You know this, too.

And so it starts—the pushing, and pulling. Your shirt over your head, his arms grabbing, throwing, your naked skin under his warm hands, the way it comforts his rushing thoughts. You’re being careful with his cuts, the sharpness of him, but the softness—the shades, and curves, the roughness of his past sketched on him, the pencil dug, the lines going inwards, hard and clearly outlined to last.

He pushes you back against the door, and it feels like that first time, so long ago now, when you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him—when he was driven to the brink of insanity with the thought of you, how you would feel, so much so that he’d risk everything, he’d take you right there, outside your workplace if possible, but you showed him something better, something personal and intimate—your home. And he became a part of it, like a piece of furniture, and even after, he’s still there, on all you owned, his scent never quite gone because he comes again.

And again. Again, again, again. He’s never gone longer than the time it takes for his cologne to dissolve from your sheets.

Your fingers are shaking, and his are too, but they’re also fervent, they’re trying to reach everywhere, all at once, and the impatience of him is so truly like him that it brings new tears, and those tears smear on his shoulder when your head drops, when his fingers push your underwear to the side and sink into you—oh, the feeling of him. The longness of his digits, the way they curl inside your cunt, all the ways he knows where to go, like a map he wrote himself, with red pins all over it, marking the salient spots, the foremost parts of you. Your mouth hangs open, as he takes you like that, and he reaches for it—smashes your lips together, his tongue exploring familiar territories, but also whatever has changed in the time you kept yourself from him. He’d learn it again, he’d spend his whole life reintroducing himself to you.

“Let go for me, baby. Whenever you’re ready… I’m right here.”

You’re screaming, you think, it feels too good, and his middle finger is hitting that spongy spot inside of you, the wetness of your cunt sounding impossibly sinful to your ears, but he keeps going, he loves it, it’s making him rock hard against your thigh, and oh my God, you can feel the length of him, you remember how fucking delirious it used to make you to cup him over his jeans, feel him fill your entire palm and more, his mouth over your ear whispering dirty things, awful awful words, that stole your breath, that had you fully alert of all the ways a man could use you, could pleasure you—my beautiful girl, I can’t wait to have my dick buried deep inside of your sweet cunt, I bet you feel like pure fucking morphine—Chris’ mouth could run for days. But he absolutely fucking lived for the way you’d collapse on him, for the effect his filthy words had on you, and especially on your pussy, the way you’d drench him the more he whispered to you.

Your orgasm rippled through you in one tidal wave. You grind down on his hand, riding through it, and he encourages you, he’s everywhere, there’s no line where you start and he ends, he’s all over you, you’re all over him. Your moans turn him into a goddamn animal, send him straight to Hell, and he gladly goes, he gladly falls, anything, anything for you, absolutely, and always, you must know, surely you must fucking know.

“Get inside me. Now, Chris, now, fuck…” you pant, you fall apart—he catches you. Every time.

He obliges. Your touch on his cock is heavenly, all he’s been waiting for, for you to want him like this again, to be this close, to be as close as it humanly gets, and if he could become second skin on you he would, but he fucking can’t, so he settles for this—you position him against your entrance, and despite his battered body he pushes in, he would never miss this, would never refuse, goddamn the wounds, and the scars, and the fucked up part that still exists in him, will always exist.

He pushes, and he slips in, slips past, his arm is wrapped around you, his hand is squeezing your neck, he’s folded around you like the snake on his neck—a rebirth, and it is, it fucking is—you cannot breathe then, the stretch incredible, the feeling of him, of his cock—you’d missed him so fucking much, you can’t believe you deprived yourself for this long.

But he’s here now. He fucks into you slow, sensual—you think he can’t possibly move any faster, the pain too much, but one, two, three, four thrusts later and he picks up his pace, cradles you into his chest and drills up in your cunt, almost lifting you off the ground. You gasp, his name whispered like a prayer, yes, yes, please don’t fucking stop, yes, harder, please Chris, please—he shushes you, his fingers getting lost in your hair, pushing strands away from your face so he could look into your eyes, so he could watch as you come apart, as your eyes fall shut, as you go into overdrive.

You’re so wet for me, baby girl, I can’t fucking believe I’m inside you—will you let me come in my pussy, mine, it’s mine, you’re mine, angel, fuck—he’s aggressive now, almost there, crazy with need, and your smell, your sweet smell mixed with the musky scent of your sex, he can’t get enough, he’s going to have to be buried in you for the rest of his life, he thinks, its impossible to part with you now, he’s scared, fucking terrified, there’s nothing better than this, than you, he loves you so fucking much, he’d trade his entire existence for one taste of you, of your lips, of your cursed cunt—he’s in flames, you’ve become a forest fire, torching everything in your wake, and he’ll burn with you, he’ll gladly burn to the ground if that’s what you want.

Your lips suck on the sensitive part of his neck, and it sends him spiraling—he’s bruising your thigh that’s against his hip, his fingers dig into your jaw, you’re blind with the entirety of him—you come, and you’re begging.

“Come with me—come inside me. Please, please—”

He needn’t be told twice; he chases after you, his own high overwhelming, but he stays moving inside you, painting your walls with his cum, breeding you, marking you. He faintly thinks if you get pregnant with his child, he’d marry you on the spot, would take care of the both of you, you’d never have to worry. He stills inside of you, both hands on your ass now, as he realizes the wavelength of his feelings, his own obsession—a family with you.

Chris doesn’t ponder over it for too long, knowing you’d freak out on him and he’d have to lose you all over again, but he thinks he can see it; a little girl in his arms, your warm voice filling his mind. He shakes his head, as his cock slips out of you, his hand reaching to tuck it back into his jeans.

Later—there’ll be time for that. But not now. He doesn’t think he can handle that right now, not when the monsters of his past are still threatening to knock down the very foundation of him.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, looking down, examining his wound. There’s blood peaking through the white of the bandage, and you sigh. “I have to change this.”

Chris smiles at you, without meaning to. His girl. His. He’d never take it—this—for granted. You worrying about him, your eyes staring at him softly. Never.

He’d never fuck this up. Never again.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands, but he’s still smiling, his face feels like the sun.

“I love you,” you say shyly, quietly.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

His forehead falls against yours, his hands on your arms, holding you in place.

“Again,” he whispers, eyes closed.

You brush your thumb on his cheek. “I love you, Chris,” you say earnestly. Proudly.

When he cups your face, you think you will never love anyone as much as you love him. There’s no one like him—no one you’d rather have. And when he drops a kiss on your forehead—home.

Nothing like it.