THE WOLF KING - A BANG CHAN SERIES

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

「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」

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snippets of chan sharing you with each of his boys for the first time

pairings: skz x afab!reader

warnings: smut!!!!🔞 multiple partners, threesomes, unprotected sex, protected sex, daddy kink, exhibitionism, smidges of mxm but nothing too serious, oral (f & m receiving), wet and messy, finger sucking, gagging, little bit of spit play, cum swallowing, light degradation, phone sex, slight voyeurism, pussy jobs, mutual masturbation, pet play, hair pulling, loss of virginity, spanking, whole lotta tags for a whole lotta boys!

notes: well.... i did it! inspired by chan's section in this post of mine since literally one singular person asked for it. this is just straight up NASTY.. you're welcome?? or sorry?? idk but anyways im abt to post this and then dip so i can sleep. pls enjoy!!! <3

chan 

“baby, tell me,” he whispers into your cheek. you’re on your back and he’s on his side facing you, a strong thigh thrown over yours that’s closest to him. he’s had his hand in your panties for the past thirty minutes, and it’s got your brain leaking out of your ears. “here, let’s take these off, yeah?”

he sits up, his hand finally leaves your panties so that he can drag them down your hips and have you kick them off with your foot. chan settles back down beside you, propping his head up on his palm and bringing his other hand back to your cunt to play. 

you’re so worked up you could cry. you could scream, but it’s your own doing. you know all you have to do is tell your boyfriend what’s on your mind. he tells you just that.

chan leans down to kiss your neck before murmuring against your skin. 

“all you have to do is tell me, love. i want to give it to you, hm?” you slowly nod your head and wrap your hand around his forearm. when you turn to look at him, he meets you halfway for a kiss. it’s sweet, nothing more than a press of your lips together, but yours are quick to drop open in a yelp when chan pinches your clit between his fingers. chan takes this opportunity to lick into your mouth and does his best to swallow the noises you can’t seem to stop making. 

he can tell you’re about to cum when you start to hump his hand, thighs shaking. chan smiles against your lips and gets you there, but right before you can tumble over the edge he removes his hand and trails it up your stomach to circle your belly button gently. the whine that leaves your mouth is pathetic, desperate, and you can’t help but bring your own fingers to your pussy to pick up where he left off. chan is quick to grab your hand and pin it to your side, dropping a swift smack to your cunt in retaliation that makes you cry out.

“this is mine.” his fingers wrap themselves around your neck. “that pussy is mine, and i’ll play with it how i see fit.” you’re nodding your head along with his words because of course, you know it’s his. 

“that’s right sweetheart. you want me to make you cum?” another nod from you. “why don’t you tell me what’s got that pretty head all dizzy then, yeah? daddy wants to give it to you, baby. i want you to have it.” 

you do tear up this time, and chan smiles at you, dimples showing. “my crybaby. how can channie help? what if i touch your little clit again, would that make it better?” he asks. 

“y-yes, channie, daddy,” you whine. his hand once again travels down to your pussy, and your hips arch into him to welcome them back home. so fuckin’ precious, he says.

chan kept his end of the bargain, so you know it’s time to keep yours, despite how nervous you are about admitting it out loud. you doubt your sweet boyfriend would think any different of you for this, but still. 

“want, ah, want you an’ your friends to fuck me, channie,” you whisper. “‘m so good for you, i am, jus’ want everyone to know.”

chan thinks he’s about to pass out. no way did you just say what he thinks you said, what he hopes you said. he’s fantasized about that for months, sharing you with the rest of stray kids, but was too ashamed and embarrassed to ever admit it out loud to you. then again, he thought, you had always been the brave one out of the two of you. 

“oh honey,” chan coos, “you’re right, you’re so good for me. you’re so wonderful, you want ‘em to see how sweet this pussy is? how good you treat me?” 

he doesn’t let you answer before he’s pulling you into his chest and making you cum so hard you’re out cold the second your head hits the pillow.

this is how it starts.

minho 

chan had texted you earlier, a short and simple me and minho need your help haha. you weren’t sure if it would lead to what you were hoping it would lead to, but god were you crossing your fingers. the second chan let you into the dance practice room, he locked the door behind you. you stopped in your tracks and raised your eyebrows at him, searching for some sort of hint to clue you into what was going on. your boyfriend cocks his head towards minho, who’s sitting on the leather couch and fiddling with his phone with a scowl on his face. 

you let out a quiet ahh and shoot chan a thumbs up. he responds with that squeaky laugh you love so much and gently pulls you in by the back of your head, wrapping his arm around it and guiding your face to his neck so you can hug him. 

“the second you say stop, we stop, ‘kay?” chan asks into your ear. 

“yes!” you say, excited, now bouncing on the balls of your feet and nearly headbutting him in the chin. you kiss him once and pull away, smiling. out of the corner of your eye you see minho lock his phone and place it face down on the couch, focusing his attention on you and chan. 

the next thing you know, you’re half naked on the couch. minho has your ass pulled to the edge so that he can have easier access to your drooly cunt on display for him, your panties dangling from one foot. he’s kneeling in between your spread legs. chan’s sitting on the cushion beside you, content for now to let minho explore your body for the first time. he’s holding your hand and rubbing slow circles on it with his thumb.

your head is thrown back against the backrest of the couch as minho is nipping at your thighs, startling moans out of you when he decides he wants to bite down harder. 

“show him your tits, baby,” chan tells you, squeezing your hand once. you comply immediately, using your unoccupied hand to pull the hem of your t-shirt up above your tits, and you wiggle when you look down to see minho’s dark eyes roaming your chest. 

“mm,” minho hums, “pretty. pretty body. can i kiss you here?” he asks, eyes flicking down to your cunt. you nod your head but are quick to glance over at your boyfriend. chan doesn’t say anything, but he does grab you under your knee and pull it up towards him so that minho has an even better view of you. minho hisses under his breath when it opens you up more for him, pussy lips parting and cute little clit peeking out to greet him. 

you all three let out a noise when minho gets his mouth on you, and you’re quick to bring the hem of your shirt to your mouth to bite down on it. 

you’ve always known lee minho was gorgeous, but the way he closes his eyes when he tastes you has you reeling. his long eyelashes flutter against his cheek before he opens his eyes again. you think it’s cute how red his ears are, and you bring a hand down to rub at one of them and he sighs into you. 

you’re honestly surprised your boyfriend has been sitting still for this long. he hasn’t moved to touch himself once, despite how hard you can see his dick is straining through his athletic shorts. he looks antsy though, and you don’t want that. 

“baby, channie, what is it?” you ask, fighting hard to make your words steady while minho continues to fuck you with his tongue.

“fuck,” chan grunts. “fuck, i want a fucking taste.” before you know it, chan’s on his knees beside minho, once again pushing your knee to your chest, and minho copies his movement with your other leg. minho shuffles over on his knees to give chan more room, and your breath stutters in your throat when their tongues touch you at the same time. 

you couldn’t look away if you tried, your eyes are locked on the way minho and chan’s tongues lave over your cunt at the same time. one of chan’s hands comes up to cup your breast, and you rest your hand over his, squeezing it. 

the noises are filthy, even more so with the acoustics of the practice room. you can’t tune anything out. not the way your pussy is soaking their faces, the hungry noises both boys are making, or the way you’re almost squealing. your noises raise in pitch once you see how their tongues are batting against each other and rubbing over your clit, and you’re cumming before you get the chance to warn them. your back arches almost painfully, hips bucking so wildly that chan and minho both have to hold you down. 

you reckon you damn near pass out because when you come to, you’re nestled against chan’s chest and minho’s head is resting on your shoulder; he’s playing with your fingers. 

“morning, sunshine!” chan jokes, and he laughs when you groan. you open your bleary eyes and take in your surroundings, relaxing further against chan and minho.

“minho?” you ask, and he hums to show you he’s listening. “why are you wearing different pants?” 

“because i came in my other ones, why else?”

changbin 

“holy fuck, that’s good,” changbin grunts, reclining himself further into the computer chair in chan’s studio. his legs scramble to give you more room where you’re settled sweetly between them. 

chan sits on the couch, relaxing into the corner while he palms himself over his shorts. 

you pull off of changbin’s cock and stroke him in your fist. you spread your legs so that you can settle closer to the ground and smile against the underside of changbin’s cock, figuring it turns him on to loom over you like that. changbin growls, and you’re still smiling when you travel lower to suck on his balls, humming in your throat. 

changbin’s head smacks against the headrest of the chair when you suck his cock into your mouth again. 

“can i- ah, please, your mouth feels so good,” changbin whines. he wants to fuck your face, you can tell by the way his hips stutter, but he stops himself because you haven’t told him he could. mhm, you hum, and changbin’s quick to lift his hips to see how much you can take. 

if you can deepthroat bang christopher chan, you figure changbin will be no problem. 

“gag on it,” changbin murmurs, hands gripping the arms of the chair. you do, pushing yourself all the way down on his cock and holding yourself there. changbin lets out a cry when you look up at him through your teary eyes, and his hand cups your cheek so that he can wipe a tear away with his thumb when it falls. you move your head slightly, ignoring the discomfort on your nose when it rubs against his trimmed pubic hair.

you finally hear chan make a noise when changbin starts to fuck your face in earnest. the wet sounds your throat is making carries throughout the small studio, your face a mess of tears, snot, and drool. you’re thankful changbin’s chair is pushed back against the desk because otherwise it would be rolling across the floor from how hard he’s fucking into your mouth. 

“fuuuck, like that. just like that. fuck, can you spit on it?” you pull off of changbin’s cock, a thick string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick when you pull away for a breath. 

“mm, yeah,” you say, moving your tongue around in your mouth. chan sits up from his spot on the couch and scoots closer to you. 

“here,” he says, leaning up and turning your head towards him. chan shoves two of his thick fingers in your mouth, fucking them in and out. you whine, gagging slightly on his fingers, body lurching as chan continues fucking your mouth with his fingers. he goes to pull them out, but you’re not done with him. you grab onto his wrist and suck harshly on his fingers, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“little fucking slut,” chan grunts, “open your mouth.” you do as he says, and he fucks your mouth again, gagging you on his fingers over and over. spit is cascading down his hand and forearm, and he tsks at you. your mouth is still open, thick saliva collecting in the back of your mouth, and chan leans forward one more time to add his own spit to the mix. he turns you back towards changbin. 

changbin has been watching the whole scene with his jaw dropped, hand working furiously on his cock, but not enough to make him cum. he wants you to do that. 

he holds his cock out for you as you settle back comfortably between his legs. your hand joins his on his cock, and you let the collected spit pour out of your mouth so that it seeps down his cock. your hands catch most of it, and you use it to pump his messy cock. changbin’s pants are soiled at this point, but that’s the last thing on his mind. your hair keeps getting caught in the mess and you’re growing frustrated with having to repeatedly tuck it behind your ears. you’re a little miffed you forgot a hair band before you left your place. of course sweet changbin notices, and he uses both of his hands to keep your hair from your face. 

you hear chan lean up from his spot on the couch again, and he collects your hair in his hands and holds it back for both of you. 

“‘s it good bin?” chan asks, looking up at his friend. 

“holy shit, you’re crazy. it’s so fucking good, so fucking good,” changbin laughs in disbelief. chan uses his hold on your hair to move your head up and down on changbin’s cock. he holds you down on it when he sees fit, moving you how he wants, toying with you and changbin both. it’s all too much, so you can’t help but start to touch yourself. 

chan catches on quickly, but changbin’s too busy looking wide-eyed at the ceiling to notice. 

“bin, look. isn’t that cute?” chan asks. your whimper is muffled by changbin’s thick cock. 

“oh my god, are you touching yourself, baby?” changbin whines, chest heaving. “that’ll make me cum. keep touching your pussy for us and i’ll cum in your mouth.” 

as you start to hump your hand, chan tightens his grip on your hair and forces your nose to changbin’s skin. when you cum you grasp onto changbin’s leg with your other hand, and the way your throat constricts pushes changbin over the edge with you. 

hyunjin 

“hyung it’s so wet, so wet, i can’t,” hyunjin cries. you giggle at that, and hyunjin huffs out a laugh too.

he hasn’t fucked you yet, but this is good. hyunjin has been grinding his long, pretty cock against your pussy for the better part of fifteen minutes. “yeah, ‘m wet for you hyune~” you croon.

hyunjin’s thighs shake where they’re pressed tight against the backs of yours. 

chan breathes a curse through the speaker of your phone. you hated that he had to leave to check on something at the company, but you figured hyunjin would be fun to play with by yourself. despite not being present in the room, you still wanted chan involved somehow, but it was hyunjin who suggested calling him up.

“how does hyunjinnie feel, baby?” chan asks, and you give yourself a couple of seconds to collect your thoughts.

“channie, he feels so good on me,” you tell him, voice lilting in a sultry way to drive your boyfriend and his friend crazy. “his cock is so fucking big.” you wail when the head of his cock catches on your clit. 

you hear chan say something along the lines of my sweetheart loves a big cock, huh? but you’re too busy crying out over the way hyunjin grabs his dick and shakes the head of it against your clit to be certain. your hips spasm, and hyunjin leans more of his weight forward to cage you against the bed. 

hyunjin plants his hands on either side of your head and ruts his hips down faster, jolting your body up the bed. 

“pussy. so. fucking. warm. so wet, smells so sweet,” hyunjin punctuates his words with fluid thrusts against you.

you cup your hand over the top of his cock so that it presses him harder against your pussy, and that makes you both moan. hyunjin leans down to kiss at your chest. he sucks kisses onto the underside of your breast and pops your nipple into his mouth, making you keen. his deft fingers softly tap at your other nipple, faintly tracing around it with the tip of his finger to feel it pebble up and harden under his touch.

“what’s got my baby making such pretty noises, huh? you have to tell me since i can’t see you. i have to know what to touch my cock to.” you cry out chan’s name, and hyunjin lets out a soft noise as well. 

“channie he’s- he’s rubbing his cock on my pussy. it’s so hard, feels so good… an’ he’s playing with my- with my nipples too, baby, ah!” you cry out as hyunjin bites down gently on your nipple. 

“hyung, channie hyung, my thighs are soaked. it’s so slippery, ‘s dripping. shit! how do you do this? it’s so good i’m gonna die…” hyunjin’s sentence trails off as he fucks his cock against your pussy faster, movements sharper as he gets closer to his release. 

“fuck, i know, hyunjin-ah. sweetest pussy ever, isn’t it?” chan says through the phone. if you listen close enough you think you can hear the slick noises of him jerking his cock. 

“hy-hyunjinnie,” you mewl, “c’n you, can you put it in, please? just the tip, please, just the tip! that’s all i need, i just wanna cum. i wanna cum on your cock.” hyunjin cries out and his arms shake.

“hyung, can i please?” he almost sounds close to tears. hyunjin bites his lip and hangs his head, silky black hair brushing against your chest. 

“you’ve got my baby begging, hyune, go ahead, it’s alright.” chan answers, voice tinny through the phone’s speaker. 

you’re whispering pleasepleasepleaseplease as hyunjin takes hold of his cock and guides it to your hole. he does as promised, fucking the tip in, and you both look at each other with mouths wide open. hyunjin re-positions himself so that his thighs aren’t pressing yours to your chest anymore, now there’s a little more room between the two of you. he takes both of your ankles in one of his big hands and pushes your legs back to your chest, the other hand occupied with holding the base of his cock. 

hyunjin slowly rolls his hips forward, grinding inside you repeatedly with the tip of his big cock. you’re so wet that you start squelching when he fucks in, and as hyunjin whimpers at the noise you throw your arm over your eyes to hide. 

“nonono, look at me, please don’t hide. you’re so beautiful, you feel perfect,” hyunjin tells you. “will you cum? can i make you cum?” 

“baby, touch yourself for us, let hyunjinnie see your pretty face when you cum on him,” chan says. he’s breathless. you follow his instructions, looking at hyunjin through your eyelashes and rubbing your clit in small little circles. it catches up to you quickly, your face scrunches up as you hit your high, pussy clenching around the head of hyunjin’s cock. 

“oh! oh, keep clenching on me. please, yes, keep cumming!” hyunjin cries, fist jerking the part of his cock that isn’t snug inside you. that’s enough to push him over the edge, he rushes to take his cock out and he cums in streaks all over your stomach. you smile sleepily at him as you pick up some with the tips of your fingers and bring it to your mouth.

“don’t fucking go anywhere,” chan growls. you had almost forgot he was on the line. “i’m coming home right now.”

jisung 

you’re putting on the best show of your life, you think, as you sit in the computer chair in chan’s studio while him and jisung lounge on the couch. chan’s already got a hand down his pants, but jisung is holding onto the spotify pillow tightly, covering his lap with it. 

you smirk at your boyfriend and trail your eyes to jisung, making sure to spread your legs wider for him to see. you settle both of your legs over the arms of the chair. you notice jisung’s eyes widen, but he still doesn’t move to touch himself, and that has you pouting. 

“come on, hannie, don’t you want to play with me?” you ask, cocking your head as your fingers begin to pinch your own nipples before the real fun begins. 

you see jisung gulp, and you’d laugh if it weren’t so cute. 

“you wanna watch me touch myself?” you ask him, pulling at a nipple and watching him watch your breast jiggle with the movement. 

“baby don’t tease, be nice.” comes chan’s response. 

“‘m always nice, see?” you say back. you roll your neck and your fingers inch to your pussy. you form a vee with your fingers and spread yourself open for them. you let them look their fill for a moment and then start to rub your clit when you deem necessary. “i’m so nice, aren’t i hannie?” 

“yeah, sooo nice, so nice, yeah,”  jisung replies with a cough, eyes fixed on your fingers that are coated with your slick. he finally removes the pillow from his lap and reaches a hand under the band of his sweatpants to touch himself. 

“take out your cocks, pleeease.” it’s more of a command if your tone has anything to do with it, but since you’re being nice you tacked on a please at the end for good measure. chan readily complies, always prepared to get his dick out for you, but jisung pulls at the drawstring of his sweats and hesitates. 

“please hannie? i’ve seen that one before,” you wave a passive hand at chan. “can i see yours?” you ignore chan’s squawk of hey! you happen to love this one, brat! to bat your eyelashes at jisung. 

jisung laughs, which is what you wanted him to do, and finally loosens the drawstring and shimmies his pants down a little bit so you can see him. 

“mmm,” you hum. “yes, good. touch it for me.” his cock is almost purple at the head. it looks like you worked him up even more than you thought. good. 

sure you were putting on a show, acting out a little bit, but it was easy to start touching yourself genuinely with two of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen in your life sitting in front of you jerking their cocks. to you, to your body. you’re soaking wet. thankfully chan had the forethought to lay his discarded jacket in the chair you’re sitting on before you started your little magic act. 

your fingers dip into your entrance, and it makes your hips jolt. ooh! you say.

“you wanna taste, jisungie?” you ask. jisung stares wordlessly at where your fingers are disappearing into yourself. you kick your foot out to get his attention. “i saaaid, you wanna taste?” he wastes no time in nodding.

you pull your fingers from yourself and sit up in the chair, the wetness sticking uncomfortably under you. you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the smile spreading across your face when jisung nearly goes cross-eyed as you bring your fingers to his lips.

you mouth the words ‘say ahh’ and jisung listens instantly. he opens his mouth for you, and you’re quick to acquaint your fingers with his tongue. he closes his lips and his eyes shut with them, gently sucking on your fingers and swirling his tongue around the digits. you thrust your fingers slowly in and out and let out a breathless moan when jisung bobs his head to meet your fingers.

chan’s still touching himself all the while. 

“oh, channie my love, i’m not being fair am i?” you ask. looking chan in the eyes, you lean back in your seat again to repeat the process. you fuck yourself on your fingers until your wetness is seeping down your knuckles and sit up once again to feed them to chan. chan meets your fingers with his tongue already out of his mouth, waiting patiently. when chan is done sucking your essence from your fingers, he presses a sweet kiss against your palm.

“get on your fucking knees, i wanna cum in that mouth,” chan commands. you’re quick to follow his orders, but not before jisung snags the jacket from your chair and places it on the ground so you can rest your knees on it. chan stands up from his spot on the couch and begins jerking his cock over your face. 

jisung’s still touching himself watching the scene of you and chan before him, but you want him closer. you tug on the fabric of his pants as encouragement for him to stand up too. he gets the hint and stands up beside chan, stripping his cock over you as well.

“fuck, i can’t, can i see your tongue?” jisung asks, voice pitching on a whine. you loll your tongue out of your mouth in answer, mouth open and waiting. “wanna cum on it, can i? can i please?” 

you raise yourself on your knees so that you can lick the head of his cock, then lick chan’s, then jisung’s again. 

“please cum in my mouth?” you mewl to the both of them. “i’ll be good and swallow it all.”

felix 

when he got to the chicken breast and protein powder dorm he assumed everyone was out. he left a pair of headphones in chan’s room the last time he was over and wanted them back. he was quickly proven incorrect when he opened the door of chan’s room to see you kneeling by the bed in just your underwear and chan sitting on the edge of it. the lights are off, but chan has his desk lamp on and the led lights on his wall are shining pink and purple. 

you rush to pull your mouth off of your boyfriend, and chan leans forward to block the view of your chest as best as he can. 

“well d’you want to...stay?” chan offers after a tense moment of silence. felix stands in the doorway of his hyung’s room, mouth slack, as he watches the scene in front of him. he shakes his head, almost as if that will help him clear it. 

“is that- i mean- are you.....sure?” felix starts, sentence breaking off toward the end. you quickly nod your head, leaning back from chan and exposing your chest. minx. he’s been growing hard in his pants since he opened the damn door, but now his cock has really taken an interest. 

“yeah mate, we kind of… talk about it? but only if you want to, yeah?” chan responds. felix nods shakily, taking a step into the room and closing the door. “yeah... okay, yes. fuck, please?” 

chan smiles and scoots back to the head of the bed, guiding your hand with him until you’re between his legs, back pressed to his chest. you’re shyly keeping your legs closed, but chan tuts at you. a soft let him see you leaving his pretty lips. next thing you know, chan’s strong hands are prying your thighs open slowly and giving felix a clear view of your soaked panties. you hide your face in his neck as his hand crawls back up your thigh to cup where you’re leaking. “come ‘ere, lix,” chan murmurs. 

felix takes a step closer to the bed, eyes glued to chan’s fingers running over the fabric of your panties. he hears a sweet sound leave your lips and chan coos. “why don’t you ask him, honey.” 

“mm, felix,” you cry as chan’s fingers find their way under the waistband. “can you- can you take my panties off, please?” 

“oh fuck,” he groans. he climbs onto the bed and situates himself between yours and chan’s spread legs. he looks between you and chan again for confirmation, chan nodding his head and your quiet pleas spur him on. 

felix reaches forward and gently guides your panties down your thighs. he whimpers softly when he finally sees you bare and his head lolls back when the smell of your arousal reaches his nose. 

“you have to tell me- i don’t know what you like. please show me.” felix tells you as he lowers himself to his stomach. chan pulls you further against him, drawing your legs back to your chest. 

at the first press of felix’s tongue against you, you keen. your back arches against your boyfriend’s chest when felix’s tongue flicks softly on your clit. 

he dips his tongue into your hole and looks up just in time to see chan pull you into a dirty kiss. he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be in the middle of that kiss, reasoning that he’ll hold onto that thought and figure out what it means later. 

felix laves his tongue against you, quickly seeking out your swollen clit again and wrapping his lips around it, pressing quick sucking kisses against it. 

“lix! just like that, please!” you cry at the same time chan coos out “ohh, my baby likes that.” he sucks at you harder, eyebrows furrowing as he keeps his pace in order to make you cum. he moans as he feels a hand grip his hair and press him closer to you. he’s expecting it to be yours, but he looks up to find both of your hands occupied with your own chest. 

felix pulls away slightly as chan’s other hand travels down to your pussy. he doesn’t think twice before he brings the older man’s fingers to his mouth and wraps his tongue around them. chan hums and pulls his fingers free. he brings them to your clit, rubbing in quick circles. felix takes that as his cue to wiggle his tongue back into your hole, pressing in and out and licking over what chan’s fingers aren’t covering. your hips jolt everytime chan’s fingers and felix’s tongue play with your clit at the same time. 

“oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cry as your thighs begin to tremble. “‘m gonna cum. please let me cum, please?” 

seungmin 

“do i even want to know why you have a leash here?” 

“it’s a little late for that, seungminnie, isn’t it? considering you’re wearing it? and why do you have a collar?” chan harmlessly snarks back, and seungmin laughs. 

you’d laugh too if you weren’t too busy getting pounded by seungmin’s long cock. 

you’re on your back; seungmin’s holding your legs up by the pits of your knees. you’ve got the end of the leash wrapped in your fist and every so often you tug on it to hear seungmin whimper. he does look awfully pretty in that collar.

you tug on the leash again, pulling seungmin down so that you can kiss his lips. his hips pick up speed again when you wrap the leash one more loop around your hand. 

“you’re just a puppy, huh?” you murmur against his cheek. seungmin’s rhythm falters a little bit as his eyebrows furrow at your comment. you see him take a peek at chan out of the corner of his eyes. “it’s alright seungminnie, don’t be embarrassed. he’s just a dog too.”

chan doesn’t say a word, but his leg starts bouncing up and down. 

“see look, just like a dog thumping its leg,” you whisper into seungmin’s ear. it’s quiet enough in seungmin’s room so you know chan can hear what you said. the only sound other than the slapping of your hips together is that of seungmin’s oscillating fan. 

seungmin breathes a whine into your collarbone, and you use that as an excuse to pull his hair hard enough to lift his head so that you can look him in the eyes. 

“you’re a good boy seungminnie, did you know that?” seungmin nods his head yes but quickly stops and shakes it no instead. seungmin’s stopped fucking you now, you reckon he’s overwhelmed, so you run your fingers through his hair. “well it’s true, and i don’t lie. you’re such a good little puppy for me, seungmin, and do you know what good boys get?” 

“w-what do good boys get?” seungmin asks, hips wiggling.

“good boys get to hump, isn’t that right channie? ‘cause that’s what dogs do.” 

seungmin and chan sound so sweet when they moan together, voices almost harmonizing. your new favorite melody. you spur seungmin into moving when you pat his flank, and he does exactly what you told him to. his hips buck almost wildly against yours. you turn your head to look at your boyfriend and smirk at the way he’s minutely grinding his hips up into nothing. seungmin shifts his weight onto one hand and goes to touch your clit with his nimble fingers, but you stop him before he can.

“no, no, it’s okay honey, puppies can’t do that with their paws. you let me worry about that.” and you do, using the hand not holding the leash to reach down and rub your clit while seungmin watches. 

“i like- i like that,” seungmin gasps. it’s cute the way his stomach contracts when he thrusts into you. 

“you like what, seungminnie?” 

“the way you, ah, the way you talk to me. every time i cum from- from now on i’ll think of this,” seungmin confesses as he kisses down your shoulder to your arm. 

it’s a headrush. knowing that you have seungmin in the palm of your hand so easily like this. not only seungmin, but chan too. you can tell by how wide his eyes are; he’s hanging on to every word. 

“seungminnie, that’s sweet. how about next time i let you and channie both be my doggies? You can hump one leg and my channie can hump the other, and i’ll just sit here and watch. how about that? will you touch your cock to that too?”

“yes, yes, i will, promise,” seungmin cries. his hips buck against you so hard that his cock slips out, but he can’t stop moving in order to press back inside of you. seungmin’s just as happy fucking his cock against the mound of your cunt, grunting every time the slit of his cock rubs against your soft skin. 

“what about you, channie? will you touch yourself too?” you ask, turning to look at your boyfriend. he’s red in the face, sweating, curly hair sticking to his forehead. 

“you know i will, you know i will, baby.” 

seungmin cums with a sweet whine from low in his throat.

“good. now come clean up this mess seungminnie made.”

jeongin 

“ooh!” you exclaim. you clutch at jeongin’s biceps from where he’s holding himself up above you. “‘s big, innie.”

jeongin lets out a shuddery breath and blinks a bead of sweat from his eyelashes. it falls on your forehead.

“is that- is that okay?” he asks nervously. you can feel him stiffen above you, so you start to massage your hands up and down his arms. before you can answer him yourself, chan answers for you.

“it’s good, ayen-ah, don’t worry. my baby likes big.”

“oh, hyung that’s- please shut up.” you giggle at jeongin’s response and he smiles down at you, albeit a little shaky. 

“you can do whatever you want to me, innie. it’s your first time, just enjoy it.” he nods at your words, finally beginning to move his hips against you. 

“ahh, shit, you’re so-” jeongin doesn’t finish that sentence. “is it good for you? does it feel like this for you too?” you’re really wet, so he knows he’s doing alright on that front, but he wants to know how to make it even better. he brings a hand down to your pussy to feel. 

“there, rub there,” chan guides from his seat close to the bed. “you like it wet? that’ll make it wetter.” you throw your head back as jeongin complies with chan’s suggestion, two of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit. 

“that’s good, innie, feels so good,” you cry. 

jeongin presses a kiss to your sweaty neck in thanks. he stays there, mouthing repeatedly at your skin. his lips are a little timid but a lot sweet, and you encourage him by running your fingers through his hair. 

“can you, ah, will it be okay if i turn you over?” jeongin asks. 

you nod to him and press a kiss to his lips, patting his side as a signal for him to get off so you can change positions. you both hiss when his cock slides out of you. 

you make a show out of turning over for both jeongin and your boyfriend. jeongin’s hand squeezes the swell of your ass, and you hear him gasp when he takes notice of the slight gape from where he was inside you a few seconds prior. 

“oh that’s- oh wow,” jeongin breathes. “hyung, come see.” 

you preen when chan leaves his spot to stand beside the bed. his gaze joins jeongin’s on your center, and you wiggle your hips in impatience. chan cracks a hand down swiftly on your ass cheek and you whine. he knows what’s on the tip of your tongue, so he hooks two fingers into your opening and fucks you with them slowly. “just wanna be filled, huh?” 

“yeah, yeah. i want jeonginnie’s cock again,” comes your answer. chan laughs and smacks your ass once more before retreating back to his prior spot. jeongin heaves a deep breath and shakes his head, muttering an okay, okay under his breath. he presses you further into the bed so you’re almost lying entirely flat on your front until he quickly grabs a pillow from the head of his bed and stuffs it under your hips. 

“good, ayen-ah, where’d you learn that?” chan teases, nodding his head. jeongin rolls his eyes at that. you can’t see him, but you know him well enough to know that’s what he does. he doesn’t answer as he focuses on sheathing his cock inside you again and making sure his arms don’t give out from under him. 

jeongin cages you against the bed, his torso to your back and thighs on either side of yours. 

“ah it’s- it’s warm, where he hit you.” you can still feel the phantom sting of chan’s palm against your ass, and you notice it more when jeongin places his hand gently on top of where chan’s handprint is no doubt seared into your skin. that must get to jeongin because he thrusts into you harder than he has before. 

“s-sorry! sorry, i’m sorry, i can’t,” jeongin babbles, and you coo at him. your hand searches for his elegant fingers. when you find them you bring his hand back up beside your head, holding it and kissing his knuckles. 

“it’s okay, honey, i like that. d’you wanna cum in me? fuck me until you cum, innie, would you like that?” you ask him, trying your best to fuck back on him with his weight holding you down. he’ll cum in the condom he’s wearing, but the barrier doesn’t matter right now. 

“please, i- won’t last, i can’t. you’re- too pretty, so pretty, i can’t,” jeongin’s fucking you faster now. he’s so desperate to cum that it makes your pussy clench, and he shouts. your own fingers find your clit in the hopes that you can cum with him, a perfect end to his one-of-a-kind first time. 

“look at that, keep going iyennie, gonna make my baby cum too,” chan hums. jeongin’s balls deep in you, and you’re facing your boyfriend, falling apart for him and one of his closest friends. chan has his cock out, and you’re surely drooling now. you’ll have to remind jeongin to wash his sheets afterwards. 

your hand is trapped under you from yours and jeongin’s combined weight, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically rubbing your clit. that’s enough for jeongin; he chokes on a moan and he stops breathing as he cums inside you. inside the condom, but inside you nonetheless.

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 1

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Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Pairing: fem reader + Chan + Jisung

This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: You're enjoying a drink with Chan until he starts asking about the smut you read.

Warnings: This first installment has no sex (but the next is fully sex including a threesome!) but talks about sexually explicit content, fantasies, references to sex and masturbation, explicit language, eventual threesome in next installment.

You sit on the leather lounge really confused about how the conversation ended up here.

“So… “ Chan starts, “do you enjoy reading them?” he smirks as he asks this.

He is such a cheeky bastard.

He isn't talking about stories in the media, or news articles, or interviews. Nope. He is talking about erotic fan fiction. Smut. About him. About him and his rock band SKZ. And that you've been reading it.

You have known Chan for a long time. Years now. You'd met on a creative project. You're musicians, and have often worked creatively together on and off for a few years. You were so excited when Chan invited you to his holiday/work retreat to work on a new project with him and a few of the guys from the band for a couple of weeks.

You're staying in a beautiful holiday home, more like a mansion really, on the coast overlooking the ocean. It’s a sight to die for.

Chan loved to work. He worked all day. He worked well into the night. He worked all the time actually. A workaholic. You wonder if you would get to let your hair down, and just hang out, which usually ends up with you bantering and laughing together for hours.

You didn’t have to wonder for long. It's your first day here, and it hasn’t taken long before you've hit “banter territory”. In fact it has now moved beyond “banter territory” and into some unknown, and quite frankly scary, uncharted territory, and you don’t have a map for this particular terrain.

Even though nothing has ever happened between you and Chan, and likely never will, you often seem to end up flirting. Hinting at things in a fun, non serious way. But never taking it further (although your mind has drifted much further than you'd ever admit).

Chan’s a safe flirt. Which means he makes you feel safe enough to push the envelope without a sense of awkwardness or feeling a need to take action or follow through. You seem to just prick tease really.

It’s just fun and games right? Right? It was always… cheeky and lighthearted and absolutely never serious.

Until now.

You feel flustered and a little sweaty. You try to shift in your seat to get more comfortable and to ease the sense of your legs feeling like your circulation has been cut off, but the leather couch is sticking to your legs. You shouldn’t have worn a mini skirt. A uneasiness builds up inside of you.

You pick up your sparkling water from the leather upholstered chaise-slash-coffee table and take a big sip, biding your time before you answer.

You're sitting in one of the living areas that that has a big floor to ceiling window that takes advantage of the ocean view. It’s getting dark out there now.

Chan sits on a second leather coach to your right where he is waiting for you to speak. You bring your attention back to his question “do you enjoy reading them?”

You'd been talking about the fandom and some of the thirst tweets and naughty edits that are out there about his rock band SKZ, and somehow the conversation escalated into how you had read some of the fan made fiction about the group.

You wish you hadn’t even mentioned that you read smut. Why did you do that? You were only going to tease him about the situations, positions and activities that he and his band members have been involved in, fictitiously of course.

Unfortunately for you the teasing hasn’t had the desired effect, and the tables have been turned on you. Instead of making him go red, or teasing him about it, and having a giggle - in the safe zone of “banter territory” - you were the one blushing while his expression had turned dark and devious.

You look him in the eyes to see if you can read his thoughts.

He is still waiting for your answer.

He is still smirking at you. Fuck. This is so awkward.

“Well …?” he raises an eyebow. “do you enjoy reading them?” he repeats himself. You actually have to answer him then? What the fuck do you say?

You're not quite sure whether to give a lighthearted response and shift the conversation to something more… vanilla, or match him with the dark, sinister vibe. Or, you could just be honest and nonchalant, and act like it’s no big deal. Yeah you might go with that. You're an adult after all.

“Well, yeah I do actually.” you say matter-of-factly, completely disregarding the dark look in his eyes. You think you've come off calm and unaffected by his energy, but on the inside you're burning up with embarrassment, or is it shame? Or something else?

You want to hide. You realise you're holding your breath and you do your best to exhale gently and calmly.

Chan puts his drink down, a simple coke, on the coffee table-chaise and sits back on the leather couch. His skinny ripped jeans are so very tight and his legs are parted a little bit too wide for polite chit chat. How fucking rude! He’s playing games with you.

It surprises you when you a feel dull ache in your core. You want to be pissed off at his confidence, not turned on. Why does this dark energy seem so alluring? This isn’t the Chan you're used to, and you have a feeling this situation is going to become less polite by the minute. You're not sure how it’s going to pan out, but you're terrified. Or are you? You can’t quite tell if this is terror or anticipation, or - arousal?

He brings a hand to his chin as though deep in thought, rubbing his fingers against his lips, and not taking his eyes off you for even a second. Then he nods his head as if he has just made a decision with himself. Is he is having as much inner dialogue as you are right now?

“Tell me more?” He coaxes, his voice is low and deep.

Tell him more? Shit. What are you supposed to say? That you lay in bed reading about how he and his best friends suck each other off and rail each other in the ass? And then you touch yourself over it as you imagine you're there actually watching it? Or that you imagine each of them inside of you while the others watch?

Is that what he wants to hear?

You cross your legs hoping the tension will go away, but all it does is intensify the feeling.

No, absolutely not. This is too far. You can’t tell him more. You won’t tell him. It’d be too… vulnerable. Intimate. You shake your head.

“No,” you start. “I don’t think we should keep talking about this.” You sigh and look at him pleadingly. But the look in his eyes tell you he isn’t going to let this slide. And part of you doesn’t want him to either. If you're honest, you're scared, embarrassed and want to run and hide, but part of you does want to tell him, to confess to him, see his reaction. What would he say? What would he do? You wanted to know. You needed to know.

Despite your resolve to say nothing, you open your mouth ready to blurt it all out anyway.

“You’re right.” Chan cuts you off, and some of that darkness shifts from his eyes. He grins his cheeky fucking grin at you and you feel that sense of kindness and friendliness he has return just a little bit.

But..

Your heart sinks. Why do you feel disappointed?

“It’s none of my business what you enjoy reading”. He chuckles filling his glass up with more coke. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. We can change the subject.” Chan leans forward to peer closer to you, the room has gotten so dark and only a few lamp lights are illuminating the room in a soft glow.

“I’m sorry.” he says with pleading eyes. “I was just curious, you know?” He leans back again. “This is kind of an area that I don’t know anything about you in”.

“Chan,” you exasperate, “It’s normal for people to not know other people’s fantasies!”

You clasp your hand over your mouth. You've said too much.

“Fantasies? No one mentioned fantasies.” He’s caught you out. Chan’s devious eyes are back but it’s coupled with a devious grin too. Doubly dangerous. “Hmm..” he pretends to ponder “so let me get this straight. You read the dirty fiction and then fantasize about it happening to you? Or,” he takes a sip of his drink. “you make up your own little scenarios of my boys filling you up and fucking you senseless?”

“Chan!” You're shocked at how accurate his accusation actually is. And equally shocked how your body is responding. You're thankful it’s dark because you're pretty sure your nipples are rock hard. You're also thankful he is hasn’t outrightly asked if you fantasize about him.

So much for changing the subject.

“Do you?” he knows he almost has you admitting everything to him.

You tip your head back and let out a sigh.

“Fine. I’ll tell you more. Then you can fucking stop being so pushy and move on.”

Chan claps his hands together excitedly. “Right then”, he says and excitedly shuffles over a little closer to you. You feel like you should get him some god damned popcorn.

“You’re right. I read the stories, I touch myself, and I imagine my own scenarios.” You flail your hand around in some weird gesture and try to keep the explanation as minimal as possible, surely he doesn’t need to know actual details.

Chan waits for you to elaborate. Apparently he does need to know more details.

You roll your eyes. “And yes, I imagine them filling me up and fucking me senseless." you finish.

He looks satisfied that you've admitted it, and proud too, like his boys had actually had sex with you and that it was somehow thanks to him. “Except..” you start. What are you doing?

Chan looks at you curiously. “Except? Except what?”

You hesitate but decide to continue. “Except, even though he is so fucking hot and he’s the best drummer I’ve seen, and so very sexy, and his lips are just delicious, no matter how hard I try, and even though I want to so badly, I can’t seem to envision Jisung inside of me!” you confess.

Oh my god, what did you just say?

You look to Chan to see what his reaction is. He looks amused but mildly distracted. His gaze keeps shifting over your shoulder ever so slightly even though his attention and words are directed at you.

“So what you are saying is,” he focuses his eyes back on you. “that you can’t picture Jisung fucking you?” He smirks and leans back against the back of the couch resuming the confident lazy posture he had earlier.

You swear he’s hard, his pants seem a little too tight and you can see a bulge protruding, fighting against his pants. But it’s too dark to really tell, and perhaps your imagination is getting the better of you. You wonder what it would feel like to straddle his lap and grind against him, to make him harder and to relieve this tension building up in your body.

“Do you want to?” Chan jolts you back to reality, his attention is one hundred percent back on you, but something feels off.

“Huh?” You stare blankly, taking your eyes off the bulge in his pants.

“Do you want to be able to imagine Jisung fucking you?” he repeats casually, but dead serious.

Do you want to imagine Jisung fucking you? You consider what might be the thing getting in the way of you being able to picture it. Is it that he seems so young and fun that you can’t see him taking charge and being aggressive, and maybe that’s what you're into? You can’t really put your finger on it. All you know is you do want to imagine Jisung inside of you, fucking you. Well yeah, of course. Who wouldn’t? How was admitting it to Chan going to help?

“Yes,” you declare anyway. Really! What are you doing?  “and it’s so fucking annoying.” you add. Your throat is so dry, but elsewhere you're beginning to feel a little wet.

Amusement washes over Chan’s face and his eyes dart over your shoulder again.

You swallow hard even though your throat feels like a hard lump, but before you can do or say anything, Chan leans in close to your ear. His breath is hot against your neck and cheek. Fuck he’s close. Fuck he smells good.

You hold your breath waiting for Chan to speak. He lingers for what feels like forever.

“Jisung thinks that’s so fucking annoying too.” It was barely a whisper. He pulls away from your ear and gestures behind you. “Don’t you, Jisung?”

Your heart suddenly pounds so hard you think it’s going to fling out of your chest. Your jaw drops and dread begins to take over you. You feel hot and dizzy. You snap your head in the direction of Chan’s gaze only to be met with Jisung standing in the doorway. The dread intensifies and you're filled with shame. You want to hide.

Fuck.

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@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv sorry if you’ve been tagged again, I am having issues to tagging again.

Of Kimchi & Ink - Series Masterlist & Teaser

Minty's Masterlist

Summary: You already know you shouldn't fuck your tattoo artist, but when you walk in to SKZ Ink, you can't help but be drawn to the man you've already commissioned for your largest piece yet.

Pairings: Tattoo Artist!Chan x fem!reader **NOTE: While I tend to shy away from most physical descriptors for my 'x reader' stories, there are some in this work that were unavoidable. Reader has multiple tattoos and long dark hair. Beyond that, no physical descriptors used. Word Count: 30.3k, split into 5 parts, with text screenshots in parts 2 through 4 - unedited as always CW: Suggestive and explicit content, tattoos & piercings, reader is written as bisexual, swearing, mentions of grief/loss of a parent, memorial tattoo, reader has a loud hispanic best friend named Nena, Tattoo Artist!ATEEZ Hongjoong, nicknames (reader is called baby, babygirl, beautiful, sweetheart, princess) - explicit tags added to relevant posts

Author's Note: I started writing this forever ago [January 10th, wtf] and just never finished, but it's done now and I hope y'all will like it.

Posting Schedule

Part One, 4.3k - Monday, May 27 @ 11 AM EST

Part Two, 6.6k - Tuesday, May 28 @ 11 AM EST

Part Three, 5.5k - Wednesday, May 29 @ 11 AM EST EARLY!

Part Four, 7.1k - Thursday, May 30 @ 11 AM EST

Part Five, 6.8k - Friday, May 31 @ 11 AM EST EARLY AS FUCK!

Sneak Preview

A comfortable silence falls between you as Chan works, and you find your eyes closing in peace. It's been so long since you last had a tattoo take a while, your thigh piece completed over a year ago. Aside from your wrist star, you had only gotten a heart behind your ear and a vine of ivy around your ankle since then. You had missed the buzz of the tattoo machine and the faint stinging of the needle.

Chan moves down your hip, following the stencil around your hip bone onto your lower abdomen. You ignore the fluttering sensation that the vibrations of the machine cause between your thighs, trying to squeeze your thighs together surreptitiously.

“Can you lay your hip flat? The angle will be easier for me.” Chan asks suddenly, pushing at your hip to roll backward. You twist, complying with his request before realizing the new angle puts his left elbow dangerously close to the mound of your pussy. “Thank you.” He wipes away some excess ink, the pressure of his left hand swiping over your abdomen suddenly reminding you of how long it's been since you last had sex.

Too long.

You bite your lower lip to hold back any incriminating noises you might make- between the rumbling machine and Chan's arm draped over you, you can't trust your body not to betray you.

“I'm sorry if this hurts.” Chan's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance at him.

“It doesn't.”

“Do you need a break?”

You shake your head. “No, I'm okay.”

His eyes dart to your face as he refills his ink. “Are you sure? You looked like you were in pain.”

You shake your head again. “Really, I'm fine.” You're screaming inside your head at his proximity to your suddenly very needy pussy, but he didn't need to know that. “Thank you for the concern though. You can keep going.”

He watches your face for a moment before resuming his work, and you bite back a groan at the pressure of the needle as it dips closer to the juncture of your thigh. You force your eyes closed and press your lips together, willing yourself to be still and silent while Chan completes the outline of the lily. You lose track of time, mentally sending your thoughts of his hands and things that vibrate out into the stratosphere, trying desperately to think of anything unsexy.

“Okay, I think we're done for today.”

You crack open an eye, then the other. “Really?”

Chan reaches for a bottle of cleanser, squirting some out and wiping down your skin. “Yeah, give me a second to get you cleaned up and then I'll let you take a look before I wrap it.” He finishes cleaning the tattoo, rolling his stool back to give you space. “Alright, go look.”

You sit up, scooting to the edge of the table and sliding off before you scurry to the mirror. When you see your reflection, your mouth drops open. “Oh my god, Chan.” You turn your head to meet his gaze, already on you, eyes clouded with something unspoken. “It's so fucking beautiful.”

A sly grin plays at the corner of his mouth, dimple flashing at you. “Yes, it is.”

xx

Comment to be added to the taglist.

taglist: @the7deadlysans @resi4skz @mimililylupinblack @darthmaddie25 @wolfbc97 @3rachasdomesticbanana @aiko0invalid @beautyinhypnosis @ldysmfrst @lolareadsimagines @bubblebisk @babymbbatinygirl @solandiszale @n0y4 @renjunniex @jisunglyricist @youtifulish @palindrome969 @chuuyaobsessed @tirena1 @lilpuffysblog @ivydoesit23 @p0eticjust1c3 @andjeoidjavo @itsacatastrophe-xo @bandolls @avieeha @amaranthlvr @hongtyong @bowsnbang

*ੈ🏴‍☠️‧₊˚ 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.”

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