I Really F**king Like You | Bc

I Really F**king Like You | bc

↳ Tinder matched and subsequently ghosted by the hot guy that lives across from you, you’re mostly resigned to singleton life, dejected and somewhat fed up. That is, until a screwed up delivery turns things around, in the most unexpected of ways.

↳ Bang Chan x female reader

↳ 10.7k

↳ Strangers to lovers, DILF/single dad Chan, neighbours au, online dating au, romance, angst with a happy ending, eventual smut

! Explicit content, adult themes, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「© August 2022, reposted May 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Flat 2.

As in, the accommodation between flats one and three.

As in, the residence opposite yours.

As in, the living space occupied by him.

You’d had a good day, up until this point. Work had been relatively peaceful, save for that one particularly stubborn customer that simply couldn’t grasp the concept of needing proof of purchase for a refund.

You suppose that in this moment, you know how that customer had felt. Looking down at the neatly strung brown paper parcel in your hands, you’re confused, concerned, and more than a little annoyed.

The label on the box reads, stark and clear, ‘Copper Court, Flat 2’. Yet here you are, having retrieved it from your pigeon hole; and your pigeon hole most certainly isn’t labelled ‘Flat 2’.

Your first thought is to shove the parcel in his pigeon hole, and you would, were it not already stuffed full to the brim with letters and magazines, spam leaflets from the local takeaway offering twenty percent off pizzas on a Tuesday.

A good neighbour would just take it up to Flat 2. A good neighbour would empty the pigeon hole of its current postal nightmare and take that up too, hand delivering it with a smile.

But here’s the thing.

Seguir leyendo

「𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕'𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚗」 · course iv

❝𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠.❞

WC: 10k (42 min. avg. reading time)

⛔ — Not suitable for readers who might get triggered by rough play and/or themes of sexual deviance. The author chooses not to issue tags for every act to preserve tension and some element of surprise. By clicking "Keep Reading", you accept to proceed at your own risk.

⚠ — Objectifying language, fantasies related to sharing and providing extreme pleasure, use of a fictional aphrodisiac, threesome, spitting, cumplay (lots of it), a lot of breeding talk (see masterlist for more).

★ There is no taglist. Please turn on notifications if you wish to be updated.

※ This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

Chris liked his satin sheets. They absorbed the synthetic breeze of his AC and kept him comfortably cool during scorching summers. He was used to spending his nights alone between them—sometimes basking in the violent delights of his subconscious, sometimes exploring his body afresh fully awake.

But he couldn’t remember a single time where he was this turned on.

At first, he thought it was because of a dream. When he snapped his eyes open, he felt an unusual heaviness on his body and he was sweating. It was natural for him to feel the aftertaste of his dreams on his tongue, but not only could he not remember what he was dreaming about, but the feeling still continued while he was awake.

It was hard to describe what it exactly was. He was hard as a rock. His arousal wouldn’t calm down in the slightest as if he was getting edged for the past hour or so, and there was this unfamiliar feeling right under his shaft. 

He felt penetrated, but not in the way he occasionally indulged in. This was a much much pleasant sensation.

Was that… you?

Was that how you felt when you were snugly wrapped around him? Was that what caused you to let out those maddeningly satisfying sounds of pleasure when he made himself at home inside you? Was that the kind of gratification he was able to provide you? 

Did you have any idea what this was doing to his ego right now?

Maybe this was what it would feel like if you pegged him. Maybe he needed to ask you to do that. Maybe you could give him the most violent orgasm of his life. 

You were like this hypnotizing temptress sent as an answer to all his cries for help. A goddess watching over him, telling him it was okay to commit as many abominations as he wanted as long as he worshipped you. As long as he devoted himself to you. Only you. The texture of your skin was his 3 AM thoughts. The shape of your lips fueled his worst nightmares. Your unmatched appetite for him was how he was going to die. You, you, just you, the sole perpetrator of all the crimes of passion committed against him, and he lived to be your victim.

“Harder,” he quietly mumbled with his eyes closed, “Like you want me to.”

He had never experienced something like this before. He didn’t even have conclusive proof that he was feeling you, but considering his borderline monomaniacal interest in you, it just could not be anyone else, he was sure of it. Were you dreaming this or were you actively pleasuring yourself right at that second? Or were you fucking yourself to him, or were you with someone else?

What if you were with someone else? 

Who the fuck was this person? Why would you even feel the need for another person when he existed? Your chemistry was off the charts; he could give you anything you could ask for, then why the fuck—?

Did you want him to know there was another person? Were you after making him want you even more? Drive him up a wall? Go crazier about you? Because it was working.

What if there was someone else, though? What if Chris watched this person’s laughable attempt to give you pleasure and the resultant miserable failure, then took over to show them how to properly satisfy you? What if the way you fucked each other was so damn hot that this waste of oxygen couldn’t help masturbating to how you consumed one another? What if you told Chris you fucking loved it when he got jealous over you? What if you told him you were so glad he existed and that he could have you anytime he wanted if he was going to fuck you like this every time? He would. He would. He could give you so much more, just say the word. He would even be willing to share you with someone just to fucking put them in their place. It would be so much fun to humiliate them together with you. Pathetic. Pitiful. Who the fuck were they to even think they had a chance with you? You belonged to him. You were his goddess. He was the only one who could read your beautifully sick mind, and you could rewrite a much more lethal bad romance together.

“Oh fuck, you’re killing me, beautiful.”

Chris wasn’t even touching himself. He rested his arms under his nape and treated this like he was getting his dick sucked. Thinking of you. Of your voice. Of your taste. Of the most obscene memories he had of you. The time you told him all your unhinged thoughts about him. The time you told him he owned your body. 

The time you told him to defile you. 

All of a sudden, he felt a tidal wave rising in the pit of his stomach, forcing him to arch in his bed, his cum gushing from his cock and staining all over his abdomen. Without a single touch. Just the ghost of you, haunting him.

But it wasn’t enough.

How could it be enough? How could he make do with what might have happened when he damn well knew what could happen given the agreement you had recently made?

Just don’t expect me to come to your place in the middle of the night when the craving hits. Then I don’t come to you, you come to me. If you can bring your ass to my place, I’m yours.

You had said it yourself. You shouldn’t have said it if you weren’t going to honor it. This wasn’t on him; this was your doing.

He didn’t even check what time it was before jumping from his bed for a quick shower and darting to his car with urgent steps. The second he started the engine, he found your name on his dashboard and pressed the green receiver icon next to it. It rang once. Twice. Thrice. Your dazed voice echoed in the car right before the fourth time.

“Chris?”

“Wake up if you’re sleeping,” he demanded with an impatient voice, “I’m on my way.”

Then he hung up and hit the gas pedal harder.

Only ten minutes later, he was parked right in front of your building, considering whether it would be faster if he ran up twelve floors worth of stairs. He didn’t want to wait, but he so didn’t want to wait to catch his breath once you opened that door. There was not even one second to waste.

“You say I’m horny, but I beg to differ,” you welcomed him with an entertained smile, “It’s 4 AM, Chris.”

“Shut up and sit on me,” he took off his jacket while crossing the threshold of your apartment with rushed steps, “I wanna fuck you raw without stretching you.”

“Then say you need me.”

“I need you,” he cupped your face and gritted his teeth, “I never not need your body. Fuck!”

Your lips immediately clashed against one another, and the amount of violence in that kiss was quite telling of what was about to follow. You dragged him to your bedroom while walking backwards with your lips glued together, hastily taking off everything that covered each other’s body and creating a messy trail made of garments out in the hallway.

“Didn’t even bother tidying up,” he snickered once he saw the large dildo laying on your nightstand, “Did I interrupt your self-care time?”

“You stopped by just in time actually,” you responded while spreading your legs for him, “I think I may have manifested you here.”

“Yeah?” he broke into a bigger smile while aligning himself with you, extremely content with your answer, “Were you thinking about me?”

“I’m never not thinking about you when I fuck myself,” you put your hands on his waist, “Do a better job. Fuck me to sleep.”

And that was the last straw. 

Chris didn’t even look for some lube, not that he needed much anyway. Your cunt was wet enough from edging yourself for the past hour or so. He rammed his cock into you so hard as if you were starving him, as if he hadn’t been visiting your apartment lately in gradually more frequent intervals. This. This feeling was his fix, better than the purest cocaine he could get his hands on, and you were his sole plug. In return, you always felt much fuller with him inside you than trying to substitute him with some synthetic counterpart. As the name suggested, it was synthetic. Nothing compared to the feeling of Chris throbbing inside you when you told him to go harder. Go faster. Use you as he wanted.

“Shit, cumming,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m fucking cumming. Clench!”

He shot his full load on the deepest spot he could reach, fucking all the drops of cum on the shallow end of you further just to make sure they stayed where they belonged. He rode the waves of his orgasm pulling out of you until just his tip was in, then completely disappearing into you again, thrusts never losing their sharpness one bit.

“Thank you,” you flashed him a tired and utterly fucked out smile. He smiled back. Then left as quickly as he arrived.

Chris never stayed. He wouldn't be able to even if he wanted to. That was the rule.

You wondered how hard you would need to fuck him until he was too tired to leave.

The next morning went by uneventfully. The usual buzz of the kitchen served as white noise to keep everyone focused on their tasks for dinner service. Chopping, grating, kneading…  Microsurgical precision even during prep because otherwise you would besmirch the good name of Wolfgang and how fucking dare you?

Came the lunch break, Minho and Robin walked into the kitchen with a special dessert in their hands. You knew what that was because Robin only made it for special occasions, and it befuddled the crap out of you because you hadn’t told a soul about your birthday.

“How’d you guys know?!”

“Employee records,” Minho satisfied your curiosity momentarily, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Whatever’s going to get me the Alfred cheesecake. Thank you guys so much!”

You blew out the single candle and hugged everyone one by one. Minho was the one to hug you last. His cologne smelled so pleasant on your nostrils, and unless you were fucking delusional, it felt like he stole a whiff from your neck himself.

“Chef is asking for you,” he informed you before you could overanalyze anything, “If he rides you hard, you tell me.”

He had no idea of the absolute double entendre his words carried, so you pushed your internal wheezing down as much as you could. 

“I’ll make sure to show you where the bullies are,” you smiled at him and left the kitchen.

One interesting detail to note as you were climbing the stairs that led to Chris’ office was that when you stood in front of his door to announce your arrival, you were a little nervous for some reason.

“You asked for me?”

“Come in,” he beckoned you over, and continued after you closed the door behind you, “I heard it was actually the first hours of your birthday last night when I came by.”

“Duh, you should have known. It’s called a birthday suit for a reason.” 

He let out an amused chuckle while reclining in his chair. His features seemed a little softer than usual, but it could very well have been an optical illusion because of his dimples.

“I wanted to properly wish you a happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Sit.”

You moved towards the couch in front of his desk, but he stopped you halfway through.

“No,” he tapped on his desk with two of his fingers, “I said sit.”

You held his gaze for a couple of seconds, but it felt like half an hour. It was surely unexpected for him to initiate anything at his shrine as he called it, but there he was, telling you to sit on his desk. Right in front of him. On his eye level. You approached him with slow steps and settled on the spot he guided you to.

“It’s lunch break,” he stated the obvious fact, “Time to eat.”

It was mindblowing how Chris could be nonstop horny like a college freshman who was a virgin until very recently, but you actually liked it. No, you loved how eager he was. How much he seemed to want you. You loved being the object of his desires.

“Aren’t you going to stop me?” he asked while pulling himself close to you.

“Why would I?” you nonchalantly responded, “Have you ever blown yourself? Those lips make me wanna murder someone.”

“What if someone comes in?” he started undoing the buttons of your pants and dragged your zipper down.

“Maybe I like the risk.”

“What if they report it?” he slid your pants down your legs.

“Then it’s your problem. I’m just following the orders of my boss.”

“You don’t think I’m being a creep?”

“You would be if I wasn’t this into you. I think you’re just being a tease right now.”

Chris loved any indication of how sexy you found him. He never got tired of hearing this, and he was never going to. 

“So you’re into me,” he slowly got rid of your underwear, “How much?”

You spread your legs wide as a response to show him how wet you were. How much he liked the view was apparent in the depth of the sigh he let out.

“I’m quite into you, myself. A lot, actually,” he held your gaze intently, “Wanna see exactly how much?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip and nodded. Chris brought his beautiful face closer to your heat almost in slow motion and finally finally closed his luscious lips on your glazed folds, causing you to exhale deeply. 

“Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Fuck, just like that.”

Combined with his leftover thoughts from the night before, the way you were guiding him sparked an idea in his mind. What if he was the one giving these commands? 

But to someone else.

What if he told a third party what to do to you? What if he watched another guy have his way with you? Just so he could hear how much better he knew you, he fucked you, he pleasured you. What if they had you cater to them, then pleasured you until you passed out as a thank you?

It drove him insane.

Chris followed all your instructions to a T, extracting all your essence out of you shortly after. He particularly enjoyed how you were caressing his hair when you were cumming in his mouth.

“I need to eat too, you know,” you spoke once you managed to come to your senses, and it elicited a silky chortle from him.

“Shit you call ‘girl dinner’ nowadays I swear…”

“Wanna switch places or do you want me to kneel?”

“I like it when you kneel for me,” he ran his fingers through your hair, then allowed you to descend between his legs and nestle there.

His erection was already pressing hard against his pants, impatiently waiting to be set free. You took his pants off and spread his legs wide, trying not to drool at how hard he was for you. It was like he was getting more gorgeous every time you saw him. You teased his tip the way he liked it, slowly dragging your tongue on the sensitive skin, and softly kissing along his girth.

“I can’t stop thinking about fucking you. I have a problem,” he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “You just breathe in my general direction and I get rock hard.”

This. The talk. He knew the exact right things to say to spur you on. It could have been pretend, but you didn’t care one bit. It always made you want to please him more. You licked, and licked, and licked, then took him deep down your throat.

“God, I so wish we were in my bed right now,” Chris quietly whimpered at the intense sensation, throwing his head back, “You look so beautiful like that, I kinda wanna give you a cumshot.”

You hummed at the mental image, and he melted. You were fucking perfect around his cock as if your mouth was made to suck him off. So that he could empty his balls there whenever he wanted. You sighed deeply, and he felt the pressure building right below his abdomen.

“Get up. I’m cumming inside.”

He quickly sat you down on his desk again, and disappeared into you, holding you in place from your waist as he was drilling you hard. Then he exposed your neck to give you the sloppy kisses he always did, but he smelled something unusual but very familiar already laced there.

Minho’s cologne.

“Thoughts on knotting, baby girl?” his thrusts got way sharper all of a sudden as if he wanted you to alert the people in the vicinity.

“If you can somehow manage to do it, I’m super down,” your fingers slithered towards his nape to hold on tighter.

“Who else? You know your pussy is mine to breed.”

Chris could feel something boiling inside him. He wasn’t mad at you per se, but he was mad nevertheless. The thoughts riddling his mind were getting out of control already, and the existence of this scent on you surely didn’t help calm him the fuck down. He was going to say it. He was going to risk it all and say it. If you asked what the hell the matter was with him, he could just say it was a spur of the moment thing and that he didn’t mean it.

“Though I wouldn’t mind watching someone else fuck you.”

His words pressed a button in your brain, and you remembered your very first dream about Chris. In his crisp suit, sprawled on a couch, sipping on some expensive scotch while watching you get devoured. He would listen to you moan. He would get hard to your screams of pleasure. He would stroke himself to your sight maybe. Maybe he would cum. Maybe he would ask you to swallow even.

You clenched.

“You– You wanna share me with someone?”

“Not share, per se, I just wanna see them try. To prove no one can make you feel the way I do.”

“That’s so damn cocky even by your standards,” you sneered, “but I kinda wanna see how you can claim me back.”

Oh, good fucking god, you liked this.

He started going faster. You pressed your palm against your mouth to stop yourself from making loud noises until you got used to the new rhythm.

“You’ll wait for me to say your name when some guy fucks the wits out of me, but I just won’t,” you spat through your teeth, “You’ll regret ever inviting a third person when you could have all of this to yourself.”

“See the best part about fucking you is not even cumming. It’s how fucking dirty you are. It’s the ride,” he briefly stopped to wrap your legs around his waist, “It’s the best fucking thrill ride I’ve ever been on.”

His fingertips were sinking into your ass, and he found that soft, spongy spot inside you that he loved so much. He was getting close.

“I kinda wanna make you pass out from pleasure, but keep fucking you. You’ll come to your senses with your pussy in my mouth. Then we’re fucking again,” he tangled his fingers in your hair, “What are you doing Saturday, baby girl?”

“Thinking of a birthday party. Wanna come?”

“Cancel it. You’re fucking me.”

He pulled on your hair at the last word and started dashing to his finish line. When you bit into his neck, it sizzled so good that he erupted inside you as if you threw a molotov cocktail into a tank of gasoline. You let him spill every last drop and rest his head on your shoulder until he came down from his high.

“Did you mean it? When you said…” he hesitated, but he needed an actual answer, “About someone else?”

“I mean, depends,” you responded while putting your clothes back on, “I need to know for sure they are discreet.”

The scent of the cologne that didn’t belong to him was all Chris could think about. Discreet. So as long as it was discreet it was okay with you?

One look at his metaphorical chips, and Chris decided to go all in.

“What if I know just the person?”

You had some memorably wild birthdays back in the day, but none of them required any negotiation beforehand. In your defense, you also never had a boss with benefits in possession of an inhumanely high libido.

The plan sounded simple, ‘sounded’ being the operative word. You were initially apprehensive about how this could potentially turn out awkward after the fact, but Chris reassured you on that front with how much he trusted this person. He had offered to be the middle man of communication so that everybody was aware of the mutually agreed upon ground rules prior to your meeting.

“So what do you have in mind?”

“You’ll get a free pass. Whatever you desire, we oblige, but on one condition,” Chris explained to you, “He can’t do anything I haven’t done to you before. Nor can you do anything to him you haven’t done to me.”

“Say I wanna peg him?”

“No one’s stopping you. You’re just pegging me first.”

“It’s my birthday, but this sounds like you have the ropes still,” you cocked a brow.

“Oh, I do, don’t I?” he faked an epiphany, then broke into a mischievous smile, “Would you look at that?”

Thus the reason why you felt like you were on your way to some set on Saturday night.

One interesting suggestion had come from your guest for the night. Were you to accept it, he recommended ingesting a substance called ‘24K’, popularly known as liquid gold, to heighten the experience.

“What does it do? Get us high?”

“Not in the way you think,” Chris clarified, “It’s an actual aphrodisiac used in some rare recipes with strict dosage restrictions. It will kick up your sex drive, and your senses will also be much more sensitive.”

“And that doesn’t sound like a hallucinogen to you?”

“Does it really matter what it sounds like as long as it feels like you’re getting gangbanged when I eat your pussy?” he smirked, but continued more seriously, “Joking aside I would say an unequivocal no if I didn’t know what it was. The decision is yours.”

You weren’t really sure if the decision you made was the right one, but you were excited about it.

The meeting location was decided as Chris’ place. Up until now, it was always him coming over to your apartment, which wasn’t a deliberate thing to prevent you from coming over or anything—he just visited so frequently that you didn’t feel the need to change venues, so this was going to be your first time seeing his habitat in the flesh. The building was very much on par with what you allowed yourself to imagine when you saw his address—a luxury condominium with a hotelesque high-ceiling lobby, extremely polite staff, and a handful of people who you assumed to be occupants walking around looking like they were cast to be there. Yes, that good looking.

“Right away, sir,” the model-like gentleman that welcomed you quietly hung up the phone, and swiped a tiny envelope with the building logo embossed across the granite counter, “Here’s your one-time code, miss.”

“A code?” you looked at him questioningly.

“Yes, to operate the elevator since it directly goes up to Mr. Bang’s residence,” he confirmed, “It’s on the top floor.”

A penthouse. Why were you even surprised in the first place?

You did know about Chris’ fame, of course, but you had to admit how foreign it felt for a second there. In reality, he was so unreachable that people needed one-time codes to cross the threshold of his privacy. Meanwhile, you had gotten so used to his presence that he had stopped being Chef Bang to you some time ago—he was just regular Chris, albeit still quite extraordinary. You could be so full of yourself for thinking this, but the amount of comfort you shared with each other seemed like something special. Special to the extent that it made you smile so big when you opened the envelope to enter the four-digit code into the elevator keypad.

Your birthday.

When the elevator doors opened again, you found yourself in a short, carpet-clad hallway with dark beige walls and warm white lighting, a single heavy-looking brown pivot door looking right at you. Once you pressed on the doorbell, everything suddenly felt so real that you got nervous. The door opened with a muffled clank, and you immediately questioned the reality you were experiencing because hot—fucking—damn!

“Hey, beautiful.”

Not that he wasn’t already criminally attractive on a weekday, but Chris looked ultra fine that night. Skin-tight pants, jet black blazer, and of course the silver chains. Good god, the chains. Not the chains…

You knew this exact fit from some dark bedroom with velvet walls.

He took a small vial from his pocket that harbored some ambery liquid in it, then sucked some into the dropper in the cap.

“Entry ticket. Stick your tongue out for me.”

Three drops fell on your tongue. Thick density, savory, quickly spread on your palate but didn’t necessarily invade the tastebuds. 

“Syrupy,” you observed after swallowing, “I really like the taste. What’s in this?”

“You’re a trained chef. Can’t you tell?” 

“I meant besides the obvious honey,” you deadpanned.

“What else?”

You swiped your tongue on your palate, then exhaled with your mouth closed to run the flavor in your mouth again.

“I’m inclined to say… saffron?”

“Good job,” a smirk stained his lips, “Five points to Slytherin.”

You stuck your tongue out again to get your well-deserved reward, but the two drops of liquid gold were followed by a 24K kiss from Chris. Wetter and a lot hungrier than usual as if it was possible. It caught you off guard, but you had absolutely no complaints.

“What was that for?”

“A little pre-game treat for me,” he held the tip of your chin, “You look ravishing tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you have any of this before my arrival by any chance?” you pointed at the glowing vial in his hand.

“Maybe,” he confessed then led you inside by gently pushing on your waist, “But then again you get me so fucking horny on the regular that I can’t really tell the difference.”

Your eyes were scanning every piece of detail they could perceive as you walked behind him. Chris’ place felt like a breath of fresh air. Spacious, for sure, but also unexpectedly cozy with the warm lights cast on different shades of beiges and browns and khaki greens contrasted by dark anthracites of his kitchen which even had a 50-bottle wine cellar next to his gigantic fridge. Modern architecture with moderner furniture, simplistic but tasteful decorations all around, and a magnificent view of the city sprawled right under your feet flaunted through the large curtainless windows.

Then you took one step into the living room area, and it kicked in.

You felt like you were being enveloped by something warm. The colors became even warmer and more vivid. For some reason, you felt like you were glowing and you felt fucking amazing.

“Damn, why didn’t you tell me there was a dress code for tonight?” you asked Chris while looking at the man sprawled on the couch.

Equally sharply dressed, equally cocky posture, sporting his long, wavy hair with several stray locks falling in front of his eyes. It was the first time you were seeing him like this rather than his usual clean-cut look at work.

Minho looked nothing short of a charming player.

“The princess of the night finally arrives!” he raised the scotch glass in his hand, “Happy birthday, your grace.”

“Princess?” Chris scoffed a bit too empathetically, “She’s a fucking demon.”

“Be nice, it’s my birthday,” you settled down on the empty seat to Minho’s left and reached for the drink Chris poured for you, “but yeah I kinda am.”

“Have you decided on your course for tonight?” Chris asked from the armchair he threw himself on, diagonal to you.

“I think I’m in the mood to have two guys worship me.”

“By all means. It’s time we got a baptism from some goddess anyway.”

“Baptism with cum and spit,” you retorted and took a sip from the icy amber liquid, “That’s new.”

“I’d be careful with the liberal use of the word cum,” Minho warned you and pointed at Chris with a nod, “His fangs come out whenever it’s mentioned.”

“I see. So we’re doing exposés on each other,” Chris raised his brows and crossed his legs, “This dude right here likes it too much when he hears praise. Give it a go.”

You turned to your left and scanned Minho from head to toe. He looked unfazed, but you could see how his shoulders were tensed up.

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” you fixated your eyes on his chest, then looked right into his eyes, “You work out?”

“I do.”

“I love thick thighs in a man,” you caressed his inner thigh, and in return, he not so discreetly throbbed in his pants.

“And I love women who love thick thighs,” he brazenly ogled your breasts.

“Men lose it when you ride their thighs,” you dragged your hand down his leg, “And I like it when they get weak for me.”

“You know when they also lose it?” he sat up in his place and wet his lips with a single drag of his tongue, “When you have a sloppy as fuck make out session with their balls.”

“Duly noted.”

Interesting. Kissing was a simple act, but it was like a fingerprint for how differently each person executed it. When Chris kissed you, you felt your soul being set on fire. It was loaded with lethal amounts of passion and lust, and it made you wanna stop living for yourself and start living to please him instead.

Minho was much calmer. He kissed deep, somewhat slow, not touching anywhere else on your body other than your face, allowing just a kiss to do its job to seduce the fuck out of you. His lips were so full in your mouth, immediately making you wonder what they would feel like on more secluded parts of you. You liked the muted hums he let out as he swirled his tongue around yours, and they increased in volume by just a tinge when you palmed his bulge straining his pants.

“So?” Chris asked, trying not to make it too obvious how turned on he was by the sight, “Which kiss did you enjoy more?”

“Am I allowed to say it’s him?” you looked at him with hooded eyes.

“You are, but what you’re not allowed to do is lie,” he pointed at you, “And that is one.”

“Take the L like a champ, man. Don’t be a sore loser,” Minho quipped, very content with the answer you delivered.

You didn’t take your eyes off Chris as your smirk got wider, and he reciprocated, but you had learned to render the shades of anger that occasionally flashed in his eyes.

Oh, this was gonna be so much fun, wasn’t it?

“You talked a big game about how she tastes,” Minho caressed your back, “I wanna see it for myself.”

“You should. It’s pretty damn delicious,” Chris got up to his feet to lead you both to an even more restricted area, “but don’t make a habit of it if you want to live.”

His possessiveness was internally making you scream your lungs out. Oh, he knew. He knew what he was doing to you. He knew one good kiss was not enough to swipe you off your feet and he loved shoving that right in front of Minho’s face.

It was weirdly wholesome actually. Dare you said even a fucked up love language. 

If you walked into this bedroom without knowing who it belonged to, you would still be able to pick it out as Chris’. A massive bed dressed in black satin sheets overlooking the flickering lights coming from the pier, a huge framed picture of a full moon right above the headboard, dark grays and off-whites all around but by no means bleak. Ironically enough, this room somehow exuded the peacefulness of a safe haven.

“Any accessories you want?” Chris turned on the lights and dimmed them to a sultry lumen, “Blindfolds, cuffs, toys?”

“No, just you,” you responded as you stood by the edge of his bed, “and all the lube you have.”

You. As in second person plural. Chris knew that of course, but he didn’t give a fuck. You did say just you. Nothing else.

He had to take a deep breath to fucking stop himself from jumping you.

He took a couple of steps towards you and brushed his fingers on your collarbones first, then peeled your top off. As he took your lips between his, you unbuttoned his blazer and cascaded it down his shoulders to put his perfect figure on display. Then you felt Minho right behind you unclasping your bra and exposing your chest fully.

“Oh, they feel so full,” Chris noted while fondling your breasts, “Are you ovulating? Are we finally gonna breed you today?”

You hated how he knew what to say to get you to throb that hard.

“Take off her clothes,” he commanded Minho while unbuttoning his pants, “Then get between her legs.”

As Chris was getting rid of his own clothes, you let Minho strip you bare, then threw yourself right in the middle of Chris’ insanely comfortable bed. After getting fully naked, Minho crawled between your legs and kissed your thighs, awaiting his directions from Chris who was cuddling you on your right. The familiar vial made another appearance, and the drops of the golden-colored liquid felt cold on your pussy. Satisfied with how it dissolved into your own slick, Chris firmly demanded.

“Eat.”

Minho’s mouth on your cunt was pure heaven. Your eyes immediately closed when he licked a long stripe, and it was the perfect pairing to Chris kissing all over your neck. 

“I like it wet,” you didn’t wait long before telling Minho exactly what you wanted from him, “Lick all over me.”

While Minho was busy pleasuring you just the way you liked, Chris kept paying attention to your upper body, touching you, kissing you, licking the salt off your skin and replacing it with his own. The wetness you felt all over you amplified threefold courtesy of some saffron extract, and even just looking at these stunning men working you was enough for you to have a violent visceral reaction.

“God, yes, just like that. Now suck on my clit,” you directed Minho further.

You tugged on Chris’ locks to make him look at you and pulled him in for a kiss he so desperately was waiting for. You were trying to make a point with how deep you were kissing him, but you weren’t exactly sure if it was reaching him at all.

“Your pussy eating skills are as fantastic as your thighs after all,” you turned your attention to Minho again, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Hearing you praise his performance like that, he got even more eager, burying his face deeper into your cunt.

“If Chris lets you come play, come sit on my bar sometime,” Minho licked his lips and spread your pussy lips further apart, “You taste fucking incredible.”

“Well, she can’t. She has prior engagements,” Chris answered on your behalf, “Don’t you, baby girl?”

You involuntarily laughed, and Chris kissed your smile away, getting your lips raw from how much he was coating them in lust.

“You’re gorgeous. You’re a goddess. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, “Can I make it feel even better for you? Do I have permission?”

You nodded eagerly, not knowing what to expect in the slightest. The warmth on your right side was gone. When you opened your eyes, you saw Chris crawling between your legs right next to Minho, and it made you shiver.

“You take her clit,” he casually instructed, “I have an unhealthy attachment to her cum.”

You watched them take their positions, and even though you were about to implode from this sight alone, you managed to stitch some words together.

“Lick it spotless.”

“Paradoxical,” Chris uttered with an unamused expression, “You need to stop dripping first.”

You could feel everything. 

A pair of tongues gliding on you. So wet. So fucking obscenely wet. Minho’s tongue was on your clit, teasing it with the very tip whereas Chris was licking into your oozing hole, gently prodding your entrance with his flattened tongue and fucking into it every once in a while. Getting showered with slippery attention by two insanely gorgeous men ready to cater to your every whim made you feel like a queen, and you were about to have the most egocentric orgasm of your life.

“Chris,” you convulsed under their intense ministrations, “Come– Come up.”

He was surprised to be the one you called out to, but he pulled himself up right next to you again.

“Caress me,” you put his hands on your body, “Please.”

Please. He was pretty sure you didn’t know about the weight this particular word carried.

Please. Or maybe you did, and you were doing it on purpose again.

Please. Give him one reason not to worship the floor you walk on.

He ran his hands all over you with his lips glued to yours, kissing you, licking you while Minho was on the fast track to make you snap. When you felt your orgasm threatening to unleash, you grabbed Chris’ face and inhaled his lips, your moans rippling throughout his body. He didn’t let go until your body went limp, soaked in the afterglow languor, not having an ounce of strength to hold onto anything anymore.

“He did good, yeah?” he caressed your face and nodded for confirmation, “Shall we return the favor?”

You hummed a fucked out yes, and he gestured for Minho to get on his knees.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to dive into my girl’s freshly fucked pussy,” Chris broke goosebumps all over your body with the single finger he dragged down your shoulder, “He’s going to fuck you for my viewing pleasure now.”

You momentarily found yourself in his arms, back flushed against his chest, as Minho settled between your legs, awaiting his instructions.

“I want her pussy properly stretched. Soaking wet. Walls throbbing. You’re not going to pull out. Fill her up for me,” he firmly ordered then placed a kiss on your shoulder, “Then I’ll come take what’s mine. Fuck it deeper to make room for myself. We’ll see who makes you feel better.”

As Chris started leaving open mouth kisses on your neck, you watched Minho take position, and you noticed him for the first time. Full girth and mouthwatering curvature, and it reminded you of one of the massagers you owned. There was more than enough slick covering your cunt, but you were still struggling to take him, and judging by the extremely satisfied look on his face, he fucking loved it. It was so obvious that your sounds of mild discomfort were stroking his ego big time, and he didn’t even try to be subtle about it. When he finally managed to sink into you, you felt so full that your eyes rolled all the way back.

“We can do this day and night if you can take it,” he squeezed your legs as he bottomed out, “Let’s ride, princess.”

Minho was off to a great start. His rhythm was like a pulse with sharp thrusts of his hips deep into you. He was after enjoying himself first, relishing this maddening pleasure buried inside you before setting off to look for a spot to make you see white.

“He needs visual stimulants, too, don’t you reckon?” Chris turned your face to him, “Make out with me.”

He wasn’t simply kissing you at this point. It was so loaded with want and hunger that it felt more like a respiratory exchange. Too much sighing, short-lived moans, and wet, wet, just so wet, coating each other with as much bodily fluids as you possibly could. You had a raging suspicion that Chris was after making you regret not openly declaring his kiss as your favorite. 

Minho, on the other hand, was in no rush fucking you. He was just savoring this, savoring the indecently salacious view in front of him, which felt like he got to fuck the star of a hot porn clip he stumbled upon in real time.

“You’re doing great, baby girl. I’m so fucking proud of you,” Chris kissed your shoulder again and cupped your breasts, “Feels good, right?”

All you could produce was incoherent sounds. A simple touch on your body was magnifying to the extent that you could feel it everywhere, so you couldn’t even utter your own name if he asked you right now. You remembered how to nod in between your moans.

“But it should feel great,” he uttered emphatically to Minho, “It should feel so fucking good I need her to cry.”

When his name was uttered again, you opened your eyes to take Minho’s sight in. He was a goddamn beast. So damn gorgeous all around and he was fucking you good. How you couldn’t even properly open your eyes was telling enough of what a good job he was doing.

“Swollen as fuck,” he swiped his thumb on your clit, and looked right at Chris with a sly smile, “I have a great idea. You know what it is.”

“Should I lick it when he’s fucking you?” Chris asked in your ear with a soothing voice, and you almost combusted to his words alone.

“YES!”

“Tsk, rude, baby girl. What do we say when we really want something?”

Say it again, he was repeating inside, Again. Beg. Beg for me.

“Please, Chris—topher,” you adjusted the end of your address properly, and the fact that you remembered flew him over the moon.

Chris didn’t rush to leave your side. He started his ministrations by softly caressing your clit like he was petting you as Minho kept a steady, endurable pace. 

“Look at me when he fucks you,” he demanded, getting his fingers properly wet in your mouth, “Eyes on me.”

Give me attention. I want to be the only thing you lust after. Want me. Want me. Want me. Give me special privileges in front of him. Show him I matter more to you because you want to please me.

He started drawing circles on your cunt with his now slippery fingers without any pressure. The idea was to make you melt into him, but the way you jolted when he touched you ignited something wild in him.

“Did you know your body screams my name?” he whispered into your ear in a volume only you could hear, “You’re getting fucked this hard, but you’re still shuddering when I touch you.”

He stopped his strokes and gestured Minho to stop and take a breather while sliding away from under you and laying you down on your back. Then he lowered his face on your pussy as Minho took position again.

He timed himself so that his first lick would align perfectly with Minho’s first push. The pleasure running laps throughout your entire bloodstream was so concentrated that you couldn’t dare open your eyes. But it wasn’t just about how intense the feeling was.

It was the fact that this had turned into a race of who could get you there faster, and you were dissolving in the amount of attention they were subjecting you to.

“Overwhelmed?” Chris chuckled teasingly after a while, “Feels too good?”

Their movements gradually came to a halt to give you some rest since you actually looked like you could pass out. Minho made creative use of the lube on the nightstand to rub the soreness away from your legs while Chris climbed up to your right side and started stroking your hair, showering you with kisses on your forehead, your temple, and face to soothe you to the best of his ability.

If you didn’t know any better, you would be inclined to say he was almost making love to you.

“We just get each other, don’t we? We understand each other better than anyone else,” Chris softly spoke when your breathing returned to normal, then nodded at Minho to carry on, “I know you’re dying to take both of us right now. You can say it. Min’s not one to judge.”

Minho was probably expecting you to get embarrassed or something. When your eyes met his, you bit into your bottom lip so hard and you unwittingly snickered at each other.

“The question is can your tight cunt really take it? You can barely take me as it is,” he dragged his fingers from your chest down to your abdomen and fixated his gaze on Minho with an absolutely sinister smile, “And he’s quite endowed himself, right?”

Minho twitched so hard inside you that it was impossible not to notice. You took one look at Chris and you could feel your brainwaves syncing to concoct a quick little plan to gang up on Minho.

“He’s a fucking beast. Just look at this gorgeous body,” you put your hands on his waist and slid them down, “And his thighs, god, they’re so fucking juicy I wanna take a bite.”

“So you like his performance,” he threw his arm over your shoulder, “Why don’t you give him a review?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Minho warned Chris through his teeth, “Stop it.”

Neither of you was intimidated by his pseudo-threat. Not one bit. You leaned into Chris more and started praising the shit out of Minho with a shit eating grin on your face.

“Ravages pussy like he should, A+ tongue game, god tier stamina, and fucks like an unhinged maniac.”

“Stop it.”

“You’re insanely sexy, Minho. You’re so my type, I fucking love it.” 

“I said stop it.”

“Makes me wanna take you up my ass right fucking now.”

“OH, FUCK YOU!!!”

Heck, you enjoyed hearing praise during sex yourself. It was a great mood setter when used correctly, but that was about it for you. Witnessing someone so weak for compliments to the extent that they would cum this violently was a first and boundlessly entertaining to watch. Once Minho managed to come back to his senses, he reverted back to his no fucks given attitude and made himself comfortable on your left, trading places with Chris. You were a little sore, but Chris had been waiting long enough for his turn. He drenched you in lube and slid right in to pick up where Minho left off.

He felt electrified all of a sudden.

“Damn, your load is a bit heavy, huh Min?”

“Demon princess here got me a little worked up,” Minho chuckled, still wiping sweat off his forehead, “I have no fucking idea how you can stop yourself from cumming every five seconds with her around.”

“Who says I can?”

Chris could actually feel Minho’s cum inside you. Volume so dense that it felt like he was dipping himself in an entire bottle of lubricant. It was turning him on way too much that he couldn’t even control how loudly he was groaning. Only a couple of pumps in, he put his initial plan on hold and pulled out of you.

“Look how much you made him cum,” he showed you the thick white liquid glazing his cock and dripping off his tip, “I wanna watch you suck him off of me.”

The sight topped the chart of the dirtiest yet most erotic things you’d ever seen, easy, and it was making you salivate. You promptly got on fours before him once he laid down, not even caring about teasing him like you usually would. You straight up choked on him.

“God fucking damn, taking me that deep without being asked. Just how fucking fantastic are you?”

As you were devouring Chris, you felt some movement behind you, and shortly after Minho’s face was between your legs again, about to taste you from scratch one more time.

“Her clit only,” Chris urged in panic, “The cum stays in.”

Then Minho began munching on your tingling clit. He was pushing you down on his face from your hips, and there was no way for you to escape his death grip. You were writhing in how unendurable the overstimulation quickly became, but your whimpering on Chris’ cock was sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.

“Look at what he’s doing to himself while eating your creampied pussy,” he broke into a delirious smile, “Ride his face for me. Make him suck on your clit harder.”

When you looked back, you witnessed Minho lazily stroking his cock with one hand, making happy little sounds into your pussy in the meantime as if he was tasting the rarest delicacy that ever existed. Thinking about how you were still filled with Minho’s cum and watching you blow him like your life depended on it riled Chris up too much too fast. There was no way he could hold back any longer.

“Yes. Fucking yes, milk it out of me. God, I’m gonna soak you in cum,” he swiftly sat up straight and started pumping himself frantically, “Stick your tongue out.”

Chris was already feeling like he was being edged for the longest time, watching Minho fuck you into his own bed and devouring your pussy. The second his eyes landed on your tongue, strings of his warm seed spurted all over your face and glazed your skin deliciously.

“Clean her face,” he instructed Minho while descending between your legs just to eat your creampied pussy for his own pleasure, “Spotless.”

Without having him say it twice, Minho laid down beside you and prompted you to close your eyes by brushing his fingers on your eyelids. Deprived of your sight, you felt the pair of wet muscles gliding on you even more profoundly, one on your folds and the other on your face ridding you of any trace of cum. You didn’t know what exactly took over you when Minho licked a clean stripe on your cheek, but you grabbed his hands to steal his attention.

“Let’s share.”

It wasn’t a request per se; you just informed him that you were going to do it. 

And when Chris caught a glimpse of what you were doing, he felt like his entire body got shocked.

You asked Minho to share his taste with you. Strike one. You were sucking on the coat of cum on Minho’s tongue so hungrily like you were starved for days. Strike two.

Then you swiped your fingers on your cheekbone to collect some of his cum and dared to start rubbing your clit with it as your personal lubricant.

Chris fucking lost it. 

It was most likely a byproduct of liquid gold, but he still couldn’t believe how fast he recuperated to get fully hard again. He started following the rhythm you liked so much before he took what he needed from you.

Up. Down. Up. Suck. A little more. Now swirl. Swirl. Swirl!

You moaned loudly into Minho’s mouth, properly dizzy and most likely out of any more orgasms to have by then. He soothed you with kisses on your face as you rode out your high on Chris’ mouth.

“You know what would make you taste even sweeter?” he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, “Double frosting.”

Through your almost blurry vision, you saw Chris getting on his knees and aligning himself with your throbbing entrance, too conveniently slippery for him to slide right in.

“Open up.”

He dragged your bottom lip down to prompt you to open your mouth, and then you felt a trail of saliva landing on your tongue. Out of everything Chris did the entire night, oddly enough, this one felt like his most possessive move.

“Jerk him off for me. Let’s get your tits creamed, too,” he declared his final request of the night, then addressed Minho, “And you know what you need to do.”

Minho positioned himself so he could lick your clit while allowing you to stroke him comfortably. Chris’ eyes on you were a bit intense as if he was trying to tell you something, but you weren’t in possession of any reasoning anymore to decode what it was. You just focused on his breathing instead. How it escalated as his pace got faster. How he got two steps closer to his final destination. How he had your entire soul in a chokehold at that moment even though there was another man with you in this bed.

Minho interrupted your long-running existential crisis when he suddenly stopped and fucked himself into his hand until he covered your chest with a much smaller volume of cum this time. You were unbearably sore at that point so you stopped him when he attempted to go down again. He hopped off the bed as soon as he collected himself and gathered his clothes.

“You kids carry on. This night never happened,” he pressed his index finger on his lips and winked, then disappeared into the hallway. Mere moments later, you heard the sound of water running. 

You felt so vulnerable under Chris all of a sudden.

“I don’t– I don’t have to finish if y—”

“I’m fine. This is always my favorite part,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “What’s the point if you’re not breeding me in the finale?”

A tired smile appeared on his lips, and he put his hand under your waist to support your body better. The front door opened and closed in the distance, indicative of Minho’s departure, and for some reason, once he left the premises for good, Chris started running to the finish line as fast as he could, unable to look away from your eyes.

I do. I do worship you. You’re all I ever wanted.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but it was neither the right place nor the right time, not even the right point in the timeline of his life. 

“Chris…”

As if you didn’t do anything to each other the entire night, the second he heard you call his name, his entire body convulsed over you. You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time as a pleasant sense of fatigue slowly started to envelop you. The acts committed throughout the night were highly questionable, but you felt satisfied.

You felt happy.

“Rest now,” he pulled the sheets to cover you from the shoulder down, “I’ll go take a shower first.”

“Can you wake me up if I fall asleep?”

“Mhm.”

When Chris came back to his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, you were indeed sleeping. He sat down beside you and watched the way your chest softly rose and fell for a while. He was feeling a weird sense of tightening in his ribcage when he realized he actually didn’t want to wake you up. Could he fake that he tried but you didn’t wake up if you asked him? Could he—?

“Oh, you’re back,” you opened your eyes, sleep still dripping from them.

“I was– I was about to—”

“Mm, you smell good,” you smiled while inhaling the pleasant scent of his shower gel, “I’ll go take a shower. I sacrificed myself to two sex gods tonight.”

Chris involuntarily burst out laughing as you got up to your feet.

“I put out towels for you in the bathroom.”

“Thank you,” you ruffled his damp hair.

You gathered your clothes and walked to the bathroom naked. When you emerged again, you were fully dressed as though you had never seen each other naked before.

“Thank you for tonight,” you peeked into the living room where Chris was lounging on a couch reading, “I had a great time.”

“It’s late. I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he closed the cover of the book and grabbed his car keys, “I want to.”

You were both so tired that nobody uttered a word throughout the whole drive, but it felt safe. It felt nice to have Chris with you. As you were looking out the window watching the streetlights pass by, your heart was doing these weird somersaults, and you were feeling this intense urge to smile like an idiot for some reason.

“Thank you for agreeing to spend your birthday with me,” Chris softly uttered as he pulled the handbrake, then immediately corrected himself, “I mean… with us.”

“It’s not like I was doing you a favor, you know. I had a blast myself,” you smiled knowingly, “You were too hot to handle tonight.”

You saw something on Chris’ face for the first time. It was a smile alright, but it was almost almost laced with a tinge of shyness.

Your heart skipped multiple beats.

“Good night, Chris,” you stole one last glance from him and exited the car.

He watched you until you walked into your building, then went home to properly crash. Little did he know he wasn’t going to be able to get the rest his entire body was craving.

Chris found himself in an unfamiliar room. Sitting. He wasn’t tied or anything, but he wasn’t able to move. He knew the bed he was facing; it was his own. You were on it on fours. So was Minho.

Fucking you.

“Admit it, you want me more,” Minho was smiling maniacally as he pulled on your hair, “You came so hard with me, your legs were shaking.”

“Don’t say that to his face. He’ll never be able to take it,” you looked dead into Chris’ eyes, “No one’s ever gonna love you, Christopher.”

Chris snapped his eyes open with a gasp, completely covered in sweat. He had no idea what the fuck was up with what he witnessed just now. Were you seeing this in your dream by any chance? He didn’t know.

But what he did know was that he did not like what he saw.

He got up from the couch he passed out on and poured himself a tall glass of cold water to soothe his insides. Something at the back of his head was telling him he was neck-deep in trouble, and it was too late to nip it in the bud.

There was nothing he could do anymore besides helplessly waiting for the cancer to spread until it killed him.

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

*ੈ🏴‍☠️‧₊˚ the sea of monsters.

I. POSEIDON'S BLOOD

3racha × fem!reader — badass pirate captain! reader, pirate thief! jisung, pirate! changbin, pirate! chan, greek & roman mythology au, enemies to lovers with a twist, childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, slowburn, found family, poly relationship, pirate au, based on the myth of jason and the argonauts & the percy jackson series, fluff/angst/smut

chapter summary — set aboard haven, you and your crew sail to the island of crete after a disastrous attack from the golden pirate, in hopes of meeting an old friend who could help out immensely on your journey and locate the golden fleece with the help of the archives. but you are suddenly rattled by dream with a godly visit.

warnings — mature language, blood, mention of getting stabbed, death (read series masterlist for more info)

word count — 5K

author's note — the first chapter of my baby <3 it was pretty hard to write in this kind of english, but it was enjoyable at the same time. i had a lot of fun researching the best ways to connect the places in this story with the history it actually has. i hope you like it too <33 please consider leaving feedback in the comments or in a reblog as it would really make my day ♡

HAPPY (LATE) CHANGBIN DAY 💖

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content. this series portrays various other kpop idols, none of which represent the actual nature of them in real life. these are fictional characters with fictional personalities. characters depicted in this series are morally grey, they have their flaws just like all humans do.

It had been around two months since the Haven had set sail, and you were about as close to completing your mission as you had first begun it. You fidgeted with the silk of your robes as you anxiously paced the deck, still in a state of disaster after the attack in the previous week. You were doing no help to heal the gaping wound in your abdomen as you purposefully went against Felix's words once again, causing the blond to fret every time he saw you wince, but you waved him off—as if a spear stab was something to be waved off about, as if it were a mere paper cut.

Your crew had initially consisted of a handful of able-bodied men from your city, Salnich, but most of them had either died or ran away the moment you docked at a seaport. You can't blame them though. The quest you were on was that frightening, not your normal pirate journey.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes to picture your home in your mind. The docks you frequented, even before you became a pirate. The smell of freshly baked loaves of bread amidst the decaying buildings. Children playing among the dirt and rubble. It was a sight for sore eyes, but it was home.

Salnich used to be a prosperous city, the capital, overflowing with riches and people from all over the Mediterranean. Being a seaside city, it harbored all kinds of folk—from satyrs to nymphs, demigods and mortals, all living together in harmony. It was only when the new king came to rise that Salnich had gone down to the trenches, pirates—nasty, vile pirates, not nice ones like you—invaded the white sand beaches and took everything.

It was as if the earth itself had lost a part of her soul.

The crops withered, the trees grew bare, and buildings grew moldy. There were two bouts of plague that wiped out many people. Outsiders stopped coming. The pirates plundered and plundered until Salnich was penniless.

You were away when the new king came to power, on your own plundering quest with your crew of men. It surprised many in your town, that're becoming a pirate.

The daughter of Jupiter mastered the seas.

It has been your dream since you were a child. Become a pirate and sail across the seven seas, finding treasure and unraveling the world's greatest mysteries. You had prayed and prayed for Neptune to give you passage, to let you across his ocean.

Your prayers were answered.

And you became a pirate.

When you had returned home after the new king's reign had begun, you were devastated. Your mother had passed away from the plague, alone in the small house you called home tucked between two orange trees. You cried for days until you slapped your cheek, the skin reddening from the force, and you pulled yourself together.

With the help of your friend, you proposed the idea of finding the Golden Fleece, first recovered by Jason and his band of Argonauts on the ship Argo, to save Salnich. Once the townsfolk had unanimously agreed to elect you as the leader of the quest, you threw yourself into work, sending letters to friends you've made over the few years you've sailed—demigods and legacies you were sure were vital to your mission.

You had stopped at a few towns to pick up those members of your crew—the chosen ones by the gods, the ones who were said to be as capable as you, the blessed ones of Athena and the daughter of the King of Olympus. Throughout your childhood, you had known you were different from others, although you hadn't been able to comprehend how different until you had grown of age and commandeered your very own ship. Very few in your hometown were blessed by the gods, so it was natural for you to be selected for the quest.

“Captain,” Felix let out an exasperated sigh, his chest heaving and his forehead sweaty as though he had been running for a while, which he probably had if he were supposed to be in his chambers resting. Lee Felix was a lively, blond-haired boy, with freckles doting over his face like the stars in the night sky. He was a legacy of Apollo, Phoebus for you, so he had healing abilities that no one else had, always donned in mustard yellow robes that were murky with grime and blood.

His eyes, usually bright, were now dull. He played the part of moodmaker on the ship—nicknamed sunshine because of his heritage, especially since you were now down to six people out of the twenty five you had set sail with. Now, tending to the others and their injuries, he looked heavily burdened and tense.

“I won't be able to rest until we reach Crete, not because of what happened with Chrysaor,” you said sternly, gripping the railing as you felt the boy step closer to you.

“It was not your fault, Captain,” the voice you heard was not Felix's, but rather your second in command—Changbin's. You turned around to be met with the face of your first mate, a burly, short man with a fresh scar across his left cheek from the Golden Pirate. He was a stubborn man, but he had a kind heart and meant well, which was why you had chosen him as your right hand. He was dressed in his usual robes of red which hid his numerous weapons, courtesy of his father, Ares. You figured he chose red to hide the bloodstains he was too lazy to clean off.

You met his eyes, his warm gaze making your shoulders untense for a moment. He had a way of making you feel less wound up, even if it only lasted a few moments before your gaze hardened again.

“I do not care if it was my fault or not, I care that I have the blood of men, my men, on my hands because I couldn't defeat fucking dolphins,” you seethed, unsheathing your knife from your waist belt and driving it into the wood of the railing. “It was lucky we had Jeongin on board when we did, or we all would've lost our heads.”

You clenched your jaw as you stared into the horizon and took a few deep breaths to calm your simmering anger, letting the salty air fill your lungs and back out. You felt the eyes of Changbin and Felix on you, which prickled your skin once more. Death was bound to happen on this treacherous journey, but you still couldn't shake the cries of pure terror of people you had known since you were a child, murdered in front of your eyes. You had no clue how you were going to face their wives, their own children, when you went back home—if you went back home.

There was no way you were going to go back without the damned fleece.

“Any luck on locating our artifact?” You asked, wanting to divert the topic.

“Nothing,” Changbin admitted, adjusting his belt. “We might have luck in Crete, they have a large archive, according to Seungmin. There has to be something about the fleece, at least one of the thousands of scrolls stored there.”

You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “And how long till we reach the port?”

“Seungmin says not long, perhaps the end of the day at the most.”

“I hope Chan has received my message,” you pondered out loud. “We need the help of Poseidon's blood if we are to sail for any longer.”

“I wonder what he's doing in Crete if he's from Salnich like the two of you,” Felix said, making you and Changbin smile softly.

“He always wanted to escape our home. He had big dreams and an even bigger heart, he hopped on the first ship to Crete years ago.”

“Sounds… admirable.”

“He's a wonderful person. I think you will get along with him well. He might be able to lift our spirits too.”

After much reluctance, you were taken back to your chambers to rest. Felix had worked his magic on you, severely draining him in the process, and left you alone with your thoughts. Your mind was swimming with what you had to face in Crete—hopefully reuniting with your friend and willing him to join your party, revive your crew from despair, restock your supplies, fix the ship—

You shook your head and let out a deep sigh. Your hand rested on your wound, the pain more bearable now. It was a deep, excruciatingly painful wound. Chrysaor had nearly driven the spear straight through your body, had it not been for Minho, another crew member, to wack him with the hilt of his sword, effectively distracting him long enough for you to kick him away. You could still see the unadulterated evil in his blood-red eyes whenever you closed yours, making you shiver.

You chose to think of the events that would take place in Crete, your mind drifting to your past. Chan, the grandson of Poseidon, would be the pivotal turning point in your quest for the Golden Fleece, the margin between success and failure. You have known him since you were little, along with Changbin. He was a bit of a mother hen, even at the tender age of seven years old, always nagging about his attraction to mischief and danger.

The gentle rocking of the ship, the lapping of the salty sea against the hull, the distant murmurs from the crew, all lulled you into a restless sleep.

In your dreams, you were battling Chrysaor and his Dolphin Pirates once again, blood bathing the wooden deck and shouting piercing your ears. The storm overheard was not of your power, but rather the Golden Pirate's, which you did not like one bit. The rain was stinging your eyes, making it hard to see, and your commands were taken away by the wind. Your heart sped up in your chest as you saw Chrysaor draw closer to you, impaling you with his weapon, his face so close you could see the maps of red in the whites of his eyes.

You could almost hear his sinister laughter right next to your ear, the smell of rotten fish and blood burning your nose.

Chrysaor and his golden Medusa mask, a tribute to his gorgon mother.

Chrysaor and his golden blade that was piercing your body, your blood seeping out in spurts, making the white of your undershirt dark red.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, only catching a glimpse of Minho distracting the Golden Pirate long enough for you to kick him away and your dream faded into black again.

When you opened your eyes, you weren't in your sleeping quarters but rather a quaint, little garden, the sound of a lyre filling your ears, immediately soothing you. A man was sitting on a hammock tied to the trunks of two oak trees, plucking the strings of the instrument with a practiced ease, the tune sounding more and more familiar to you until it struck you—it was the tune of the lullaby your mother used to sing.

“Ah, you've come.” The man seemed to have noticed your presence, placing the lyre aside albeit it continued playing on its own, and he stood to his full height. A wave of pure energy washed over you, and you willed yourself to kneel, for it wasn't an ordinary man standing in front of you, but a god. You winced, your stab wound prevailing even in this realm.

“Rise, my sister,” he waved you to get up, which you did. “Kneeling is more of our father's thing, not mine.”

The man had blond hair and warm brown eyes, but you should not mistake the power behind them. He had freckles splayed across his nose and cheeks, a blinding smile that felt as if you were looking straight into the sun.

“Lord Phoebus,” you bowed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I've come to give you good news,” he smiled, and he avoided staring directly at his face. “Your stop at Crete will be fruitful, although not in a way you may like.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, my dear half-sister,” he chuckled. “That someone you dislike will be making an appearance, but worry not, he is the key to the success of your quest. Turn him away and your home will be doomed to ruins.”

You wanted to say something, ask Apollo whom he was referring to, but you were pulled away by an invisible force and the garden disappeared.

You were falling in darkness.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

You woke up in a cold sweat, your ears ringing and your breath uneven, your heart thumping uncomfortably in your chest. Once the ringing had subsided, you could hear the bell of the ship overhead, signaling that the ship was in the harbor.

You took a few deep breaths and wiped the sweat off your forehead, fastening your belt around your waist and sheathing your sword and knife on the chain. Your meeting with the God of Music played vividly in your mind, but you tried not to be too riled up by it. You smoothed down the fabric of your robes the best you could before grabbing your captain's hat and walking out of your quarters to the deck.

“Captain, I was just about to come get you,” Changbin jogged over to your side. Seeing your disgruntled expression, he shot you a concerned glance at which you shook your head. Not now. “We reached Crete. I've sent Minho and Seungmin to the portmaster while the others are securing the ship.” He gave you his answer silently—we will talk about this later, whether you like it or not.

“Good,” you nodded as you walked towards the gangway where a ladder had been lowered. “Gather the others on deck.”

Changbin nodded tersly and went away to fulfill his duty. You walked up to the stern to get to the seaside town in Crete where your ship had docked. If luck was on your side, Chan would be meeting you here and if not, you would have to face the sea without his help—you didn't want to do that.

There were a few other ships docked in the harbor, one of which caught your eye, making you grit your teeth.

Someone you dislike will make an appearance. Turn him away and your town will be doomed to ruins.

“Captain.”

You tore your eyes away from the masthead you were glaring daggers at and walked down the stairs to the main deck where the remaining six members of your crew stood, looking weary and soulless, but alive. In the short time you had been together, you grew closer as a family.

“We'll be staying in Crete till tomorrow evening, perhaps the day after at the most. Jeongin,” you turned to the black-haired boy who stood up straighter at the mention of his name. His eyes were like a siren, and he was the great-grandson of Dionysus, the reason your crew was able to escape from the clutches of Chrysaor and his sea mammals due to their irrational fear of the God of Wine.

“We all commend you for your extraordinary bravery against the Golden Pirate and his crew of Dolphins.” He blushed at your words and nodded. “Tomorrow morning, I will go into the town to hopefully meet the last member of our party, the blood of Poseidon. The ship requires maintenance and restocking. We will plot our next course once we retrieve information from the Crete archives.”

There were a couple of tired ayes from the five of them, to which you pursed your lips. Spirits were as low as they could get. You hoped to replenish them in your short stay in the town.

By getting Bang Chan.

Kim Seungmin was your half brother, you both were the legacies of Athena (Minerva for him), so naturally, you spoke to him a lot about your plans. He was the one who initially suggested the idea of bringing Chan aboard, after hearing about him in the many hearty conversations the crew had in the mess hall over the weeks. He kept his hair short and out of his face, a slit on his left eyebrow was the result of one of his many hair hacking rages. He was the one who steered the ship. He was tall, had broad shoulders and a lanky frame. He was brutally honest, which you respected, but it was unnerving.

He joined you the next morning to visit Chan at the Maritime Bar, after you left Changbin in charge of the ship. You had bathed, dressed your wound (which somehow looked greener than before), pulled on a deep violet robe over your white undershirt and strapped on your belt with your sword and knife. Seungmin was dressed in a brown robe, his eyes focused on the map in his hands, barely looking two feet in front of him as he walked. He was on his fifth back-up plan—what to do in case the Crete Archives were restricted. You assured him that they would let you visit, once you gave them a reminder of your parentage, but that didn't stop him.

The seaside town had a variety of people—townsfolk, pirates, demigods and a few centaurs and satyrs. In fact, it was a centaur who was managing the bar you had walked into. It was rather quiet, the customers speaking in hushed tones, huddled into their booths and drinking rum even though it wasn't near noon.

“Visiting?” The centaur's human part was a man with tan skin underneath the white vest he wore, a tag with a name written in what you believed Minoan, that you could not understand. His horse was half brown, standing at a weird angle behind the counter.

“Meeting someone,” you said shortly.

“Salnish?”

You raised a brow. “Who's asking?”

“A man came by and said there might be a few of those people coming by… An offspring of Jupiter,” he said in a drawl, wiping a glass with a dirty rag while he bore his golden, almond-shaped eyes into your soul.

“And where is this man?” Seungmin asked from beside him, leaning his elbow on the counter. The centaur merely turned his gaze at him, a silent message passing to the two of him that made Seungmin let out a frustrated huff and mutter a few curses underneath his breath and slam two gold coins on the counter.

The centaur took them into his hand and examined them before pocketing the coins and speaking. “He came by two nights ago and gave me a slip of paper to give to the offspring of Jupiter—only after identifying them, of course.”

You wanted to smack the smirk off of the horseman's face as he waited for some grand display. You disappointed him, however, unsheathing your sword that crackled with electricity—something only the blood of Jupiter could do. He let out a tsk and reached into another pocket of his vest and handed him a neatly folded paper which he took from his hands.

“I would advise you to stay wary of the Cretans. Not many are hospitable for children of Jupiter…”

You tried to brush off the centaur's words as Seungmin and you walked into the town.

Stand by high noon. Don't go after the berries.

Typical Bang Chan fashion.

“Does he always speak in Shakespeare?” Seungmin grumbled, creasing the note with his grip. “What the hell does this even mean? Stand by high noon—does he mean the time, the direction—”

“Or a clock tower,” you interrupted him, nodding your head in the direction of the townsquare where a huge clock tower stood. There were four different roads and shops all around. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia, seeing the ghost of Salnich in Crete with its seaport, wild berry vines and the laughter of children ringing in the air. Your home before it was destroyed. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched a group of young boys and girls run around each other, yelling playful jabs and giggling in response. It reminds you of when you were of that age. Young and carefree.

“I suppose it could mean that too…” He shoved the paper into his trousers, and his attention was brought back to the matter at hand. “And those must mean the berries,” he pointed in the direction of wild berry vines growing on one side of the tower and on a few of the buildings. “So that means we have to go left, Captain.”

“Well done, Min,” you chuckled at his deduction and the two of you went down the left road. A couple of people shot you with nasty glares, some eyes with a sword dangling at your hip.

“They don't look friendly.”

“Just don't make eye contact. If we're lucky, we should find a cartographer—there!” A few strides down the road was a sign hanging in front of a small building.

“Gertie's Map Shop,” Seungmin read aloud in an almost amused manner. “Find all your maping—they spelled mapping wrong—mapping needs. Expert cartographer—are you sure this is the place your friend went to fulfill his life's meaning?”

The building was… well, it had character.

You had expected Chan to live in some lavish quarters, not a building that looked like it would blow away in a light breeze. You knocked on the door and waited, with your arms crossed over your chest. Seungmin tapped his foot impatiently against the cobblestones, glaring at whoever looked your way for too long.

Finally, you heard loud footsteps and the door swung open, revealing your old friend—Bang Chan. He had grown taller and more muscular over the years, his curly hair was more straight, but there was no mistaking it was him considering the shit-eating grin that formed on his face when he saw him.

“You got my note!” He stepped out of the doorway and in front of you, giving you a sudden hug which you awkwardly returned. You felt your face heat up from the closeness, your palms becoming sweaty as you patted his back. Perhaps Changbin would've responded better. For you, seeing Chan in person brought back a lot of memories—some which you weren't fond of.

You managed a smile at him. “It's good to see you too, Chan. Although I expected a grand mansion with guard dogs.”

Chan laughed. “I did say that, didn't I? Don't worry, my current house is in the next town over,” he swung an arm over his shoulder. “I was on a quest of my own until a few days ago. Mapping Portugal. Exciting, right?”

“Very. You must be in great demand.”

He nodded. “There aren't many Poseidon kids around these days.” He turned to Seungmin, who was looking at him skeptically. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Crew member,” Seungmin corrected. “And half brother, I suppose, but godly relations are messy.” He extended a hand towards Chan, who accepted it with a smile. “Seungmin.”

“Nice name,” Chan shook his hand. “So… crew member, huh? You're really looking for the fleece?”

“I wrote it in my letter.”

“You wrote a lot in your letter.”

“So you know why I want to meet you.”

“You never liked staying away from danger, didn't you, Y/n?” He mused and then chuckled. “I suppose Changbin is on your crew? Never stray far from your side.”

“My right hand. He's taking care of the ship at the moment.”

“And—”

“No one else you know,” you cut him off quickly. A surprised look passed over Chan's face before it went back to normal. You gripped the hilt of your sword and nervously twisted it. “We're dealing with some repairs at the moment, so if you're willing to join us, then I can debrief you back at my ship.”

Chan looked between you and Seungmin before sighing. “You're stubborn, I'll give you that.” His features softened ever so slightly. “You do know I can never say no to you, right?”

“So you're joining us?”

“Yes, Captain, I'm joining your expedition. Gods know you're hopeless without me,” he winked at you, making your ears burn hotly.

You took out your pocket watch. “Be at the port no later than four thirty. I still have to go visit the Archives, and we're already weeks behind our schedule.” You told him, using a more serious tone. Chan straightened up and nodded. “Great. I'll see you then.”

Seungmin and you left Gertie's Map Shop and headed back to the port. Your shoulders felt lighter since your old friend agreed to help you, your goal of saving your home getting closer. Despite not knowing the location of the fleece, you felt comforted by the fact that your two oldest friends were going to be by your side. You hoped things would be the same as they were years ago, your ability to seamlessly understand each other's thoughts and work diligently without too much explanation.

“Well, well, if it isn't the Lady Pirate.”

You knew that voice. It sent spirals of anger through your body. Your hand instinctively went to your sword as you turned to your right and caught sight of a man you hated.

“Vernon,” you spoke his name with venom. If looks could kill, Vernon would be dead a thousand times. He was your rival, a pirate you despised to the bone for what he had done to your home—both of your homes. He was from Salnich as much as you were, but he was a ruthless man who only sided with power, power that was in the hands of the new king. He shamelessly went to the other side along with his crew of equally horrible people, allowing other men to invade your land and plunder.

“And what…” He drew closer to her. “Would the Lady Pirate be doing in a town like this?”

“Not collecting a bounty or killing someone for not being able to cough up money to buy a consort, unlike you,” you spat. Your grip was firm on the hilt of your sword. Vernon could see that, which only increased his delight.

“You will come running back to me, as you did once upon a time, little sister,” he laughed, his words making an angry blush form on your face.

“Absolutely not.” You wanted to raise your sword, to strike him down with a bolt of lightning, to show him that on land, you were the more powerful one. “And I am not your sister, you vile person.”

Seungmin held your arm to keep you from severing your half-brother into pieces and dragged you away from him. Hearing his barks of laughter only increased your fury. You thought of Apollo's words, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Did you turn away from the person who would help you?

It pained you to even think about being friendly with Vernon. He was once like a big brother to you, taking you under his wing to teach you how to control your powers, to scare away the hellhounds and harpies. You were heartbroken to see that you had lost your last remaining family after the new king, and you had developed an unfathomable amount of hatred for him. You always found the need to best him in everything, in the powers of Jupiter, in being a pirate—but you were always one step too short.

Finding the fleece would turn that around.

As you approached the docks, you noticed a lot of movement on your ship. Minho ran the length of the deck, Felix's voice cutting through the stillness of the harbor.

“Wonder what that's about,” Seungmin was equally confused as the two of you went to the gangway, climbing the ladder onto the main deck.

“What's going on?” Your voice was loud and clear, footsteps scurrying all around you until the son of Ares approached from below deck, his face flushed as though he had been doing some strenuous task. His hands were rope burned and his face taut.

You knew something was wrong.

“Is something wrong with the ship? Do we have a leak?” You asked, bracing yourself for the worst. You wouldn't know what to do if you lost Haven, your partner for all these years at sea. “Is it repairable?”

“The ship is fine,” Changbin pursed his lips and avoided his gaze for a few moments. “We've… we've had a small hiccup, though.”

“What kind of hiccup are you talking about?” Your jaw was set, and your hands balled into fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palm. You thought back to Vernon and his smirk, thinking this had to do with him. If it was, you would march right upon his ship and call down a lightning bolt big enough to make you pass out for a week.

“We've had an intruder.”

Your hands unclenched. “An intruder? Why is that a big problem? You have the authority to kick him off the gangplank—”

“Y/n.” Changbin's voice had a tone of seriousness you'd never seen in him, a fire behind his eyes that made him look a lot like his father, like his anger was ready to burst at his seams. Calling you by your name was something he never did unless it was a serious matter. In the blazing pools of his eyes, you could make out something that seemed almost like… hesitance. “It's Jisung.”

*ੈ🏴‍☠️‧₊˚ series taglist.

comment on the series masterlist/send an ask/dm me to be added to the taglist!

@stayconnecteed @starlostastronaut @ta3baee @caitlyn98s @jupire @bbokari711 @manuosorioh @oddracha @n1nme4r @dprkbyn @sleepyleeji @realrintaro @starlostseungmin @shuporanporang @baby-stay92

@wordsofkpop @bowsnbang @tirena1 @drunkewok @yeosayang @fixation-dump @reiheis @hyunebunx @j-0ne25 @leetoes @hrskt

©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited

THE WOLF KING - A BANG CHAN SERIES

Pairing: Bang Chan x Afab! Reader

Theme: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Fantasy AU, Werewolf!Chan, MDNI

Word Count:

Summary: Long before you were born the war between the kingdoms of humans and supernatural creatures began. No one ever knew the true cause of it, but humans were forbidden to ever enter the woods that bordered their lands. But you were never one to follow laws, you had always felt drawn to the beauty of the woods and never have you once felt in danger there. One day you come across a large black wolf watching you in the distance. It never approached you, but it watched you as you would lay against a tree in the sunlight and read your favorite books. From that moment on you would always see it, watching you. You felt as if it was protecting you. You would smile at it and never dare go near it. Little did you know, that the wolf who watched you carefully, was not just any wolf, but also a man, the man they called the wolf king.

Preview: "From the moment I first saw you in those woods, I knew you were meant to be mine."

A/N: Please do not repost or translate my work! Let me know if you wish to be on the tagged list.

THE MASTERLIST:

~ THE PROLOGUE ~ CHAPTER ONE: MY LITTLE PUP ~ CHAPTER TWO: BATHED IN MOONLIGHT ~ CHAPTER THREE: OUR LUNA ~ CHAPTER FOUR: WRITTEN IN THE STARS ~ CHAPTER FIVE: HONEY AND ROSES ~ CHAPTER SIX: WOLFSBANE ASH ~ CHAPTER SEVEN: OURS ~ CHAPTER EIGHT: UGLY DUCKLING

~ CHAPTER NINE: MINE TO LOVE

intro + master list

welcome to my corner of delusion.

The SKZ House (series)

Summary: When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see the Sigma Kappa Zeta fraternity ad for an "In-House Stay", you apply and are accepted. Your duties? Cooking...cleaning...oh, and pleasing your assigned members: Hwang Hyunjin and Bang Chan.

Chapter One: Of Breakups & New Housing

Chapter Two: Of Ex's & Tesla's

Chapter Three: Of Blowjobs & Birthdays

Chapter Four: Of Pineapples & Punishment

Chapter Five: Of Mirrors & Lessons

Chapter Six: Of Joy Rides & Hot Tubs

Chapter Seven: Of Watching & Submiting

Chapter Eight: Of Drive-Ins & Wishes

Chapter Nine: Of Halloween & Hallways

Chapter Ten: Of Yin & Yang

Chapter Eleven: Of Triple N's & Multiple O's

Chapter Twelve: Of Delays & Professor Bang

Chapter Thirteen: Of Girl Talk & Berry

Chapter Fourteen: Of Surprises & Closets

Chapter Fifteen: Of Showers & Cabins

Chapter Sixteen: Of Chan & Cuffs

Chapter Seventeen: Of Futures & Flights

Chapter Eighteen: Of Beaches & Baclonies

Chapter Nineteen: Of Chokers & Christmas

Chapter Twenty: Of Father's & Basements

Chapter Twenty-One: Of Rotations & Doors

Chapter Twenty-Two: Of Seungmin and Karaoke

Chapter Twenty-Three: Of You (Chan POV)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Of Changbin and Roses (Coming Soon)

References:

SKZ House Photo Book (to help you picture certain scenes)

Both

Symphony Smut Series Day 16: Todrick Hall's Both

Lyric: I can make you moist or I can make you fire.

Pairings: Minho × fem!reader × Chan

Warnings: Smut MINORS DNI, oral ( f recieving), poly relationship, dom! Minho, dom!Chan, sub!reader, fingering, double penetration, p in v sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mean dom Minho, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal sex eyy, dacryphillia

A/N: and it is the second threesome of this series. I love that you guys loved the first threesome so much so I made another one with Minho and Channie, aka my husbands.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Living with two boyfriends had been a much livelier experience than you would had initially thought. Or maybe perhaps it was because they were Minho and Chan was what made it lively.

They were completely opposite to each other in all aspects. Which especially showed in the bedworks.

Minho was your drug for slavery while Chan was your poison for salvation.

Their duality was what turned you on, they could call you their little princess and give you as much pleasure as you wanted or they could tell you that you're their slut, with a pussy made only for them.

So it was no surprise that when you got mad with one, you went to another.

And on one fine Tuesday evening that's exactly what happened.

"Princess are you alright?" Chan peeked his head around the door, his eyes taking time to adjust to the dim light. His ears were working though, and your sobs broke his heart. He didn't like it when you argued with Minho. He knew both of you were competitive, and competition never lead to much success, it usually led to tears and ignoring.

"If he sent you here-" you hiccuped, looking up at Chan, "Tell him I'm never going to talk to him again."

"You're so adorable." Chan chuckled, leaning into you kiss you, his hands on your hips, "How about a little session hmm? To get your mind off things?"

"What if he hears?"

“Minho has in headphones in” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. He pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “He won't hear what he's missing.”

Chan makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his primal instincts starts to kick in. In seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste for him right now. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“Never seen you so speechless before.” You tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the wet slick pooling at your entrance.

“What can i say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “I like having you all to myself.”

You open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. After that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins.

He tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper. His tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. It’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. He grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of drink he can get his mouth on.

Each precise stroke of his tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. He was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. He breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

It’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

Your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. The coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. You don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

It takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure Chan hurtled you in. You watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

"Having fun there aren't you?"

Oh fucking no

You snapped your head up to look at the doorway, where your eyes fell on the image of Minho, casually leaning against the door, shit eating smirk on his face.

"Want a taste? Im done." Chan got off the bed and plopped onto the nearby armchair.

"So the plan did work." Minho chuckled, taking off his jacket, and striding across the room, looking at your confused figure with bedroom plan.

"What fucking plan?" You spat with venom in your tone, making Minho click his tongue together.

"Chan offered to help me after our little 'argument'." Minho dipped the bed down with his weight, "And let's just say, now that you're all riled like our pretty princess-" he took off his belt, "You won't refuse my fingers will you?"

"Fuck you Lee Minho, and you too." You directed the last part at Chan who merely shrugged his shoulders, and lounged on the armchair.

You gasped as Minho cupped your pussy, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.

"Aww did you miss me that much?

“Use your fingers properly and find out.”

Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Not even a sorry?,” he said, arrogance dripping from each word.

Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell. Minho's hands worked quickly to unbutton your shirt. You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts. Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.

It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”

"Chan's cock is getting hard and you don't want to disappoint him do you? He is the favourite in this relationship right?" You grumbled, feeling Minho's finger slide across your pussy. You tried your hardest not to moan.

Minho threw a glance at Chan who was chuckling behind his fingers, his cock almost bursting through his trousers.

A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear. “you're right. He is my favourite, but he doesn't have a pussy like yours does he?”

Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.

He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure. His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him.

“What happened darling?” he taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That desperate for my fingers?”

You whined in response, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.

“Look princess” he continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “I can be quite greedy when I want to.”

“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail.

He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back. “But I am willing to share you with Chan for a bit.”

The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled, the third finger nudged at your entrance and you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around your tongue to not give him the satisfaction.

“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low. It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping.

The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.

For a brief moment, he allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly. His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.

And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.

He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, looking over at Chan and giving him a smirk too.

Of course. He was a sadist.

“Now, now,” he tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous , did you?” 

"Fuck you both so much."

"Well if you say so doll." Chan shrugged his shoulders again and got up, getting onto the bed as well.

"Only if she stays silent though." Minho chuckles like a madman. Fuck you, you thought, but you couldn't get the words out.

Chan removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure that you can take anymore. “i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. Had he always been this big?

“Fuck you're tight” Chan groans. “oh fuck” you breath feeling too full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet. “How does she feel?" Minho asks Chan “So. Fucking. Tight” he groan as he slowly starts moving.

“oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, and they reach Chan's dark curls “Does it feel good darling?” Minho whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers.

“f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Chan picks up speed. “hmm you like Chan fucking you while I stretch your ass?”. “Yes” you moan again. “Good girl, look how well you’re taking us”

Chan groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Minho’s hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly.

“Fuck you're ready to come again aren’t you, I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” he groans. “please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Minho's hand. “what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Minho says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder Chan.” he says. you try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Chan picks up speed even faster and Minho pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Chan’s cock move through your folds. "Channie..” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance.

“you wanted us both, so you get us both” he says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. Your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Minho mutters to Chan.

“fuck” Chan groans in response. You already feeling another orgasm rise. “please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you. “cum for us” Chan orders as he starts moving in and out of you again. You’re so close, you’re almost there.

Minho lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. “No, I can’t. please” you beg. “You can do one more darling”

“hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Chan and Minho as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal pace.

“oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel Chan and Minho come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if your still coming or if it’s another orgasm.

The room is filled with sounds of heavy panting as Minho and Chan slowly pull out, leaving you empty and exhausted.

"Princess?" Minho asks uncertainly, "you alright?"

"I'll forgive you if both of you do that everyday." You breathe out, being wrapped safely into Chan's arms.

"Well if you say so." Minho chuckled and smirked at Chan, who smiled back and wraped both of you tighter into a cocoon of comfort and horniness.

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!