I Don't Want To Put You Through Me: Channie's Bonus Chapter. MDNI 18+
© itshannjisung, 2024 / © itsseohannbin 2024
♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡
Summary:Friends with Benefits. That's all you two were supposed to be. No feelings, no strings attached, just sex. But after a failed confession, a drunken movie night, and another member moving in for their shot, Chan realizes how hard it is to let go of someone who was never rightfully his to begin with.
Pairing:Bang Chan x afab!Reader
Warnings: pure smut; swearing, slight degradation, fighting, kissing, dry humping, p in v, protected sex, floor sex, angry sex, somewhat manipulative behavior (sorry Chan), depictions of half-drunk sex (reader was drunk, had 2 hours of sleep, and is a little hungover, a little tipsy still), Chan calls reader a bitch, small implications of self-hate and guilt/shame at the end. Chan is still a meanie-pants in this one.
Note: the author has chosen to leave out some of the warnings to maintain an element of surprise for the reader. viewer discretion is advised.
** please remember to practice self-care as some of these themes may be triggering to some readers. **
Story Inspired By -> Put You Through Me by Arrows In Action
Series Master List || Part One || Channie's Bonus || Part Two || Part Three
*This is a continuation/bonus chapter from my series "I Don't Want To Put You Through Me". This takes place between Part One and Part Two.
The sound of a loud, relentless knocking at your front door somehow dragged you out of your drunken sleep, your entire body protesting as you blinked toward the clock on your nightstand.
A string of curse words slipped under your breath as you squeezed your eyes shut again, dragging one of your pillows over your head.
I swear to god, if that’s the drunk from down the hall again, I’m going to lose it.
The knocking didn’t stop.
It echoed through your apartment, sharp and insistent, drilling straight into your skull and making the dull throb of your hangover feel ten times worse. You groaned, rolling onto your side, trying to ignore it by pretending you weren’t home, just in case it was the crazy old man from 506 again,
God, I’m never drinking again.
For a moment, it went quiet, but you barely had time to even breathe out in relief before it started up again, louder and more frantic. It rattled the door like whoever was on the other side was seconds away from breaking it down.
Then your phone started to ring, and another line of curse words left your mouth. You let out a frustrated noise, blindly reaching over the edge of your bed to grab it from where it had fallen sometime during the night.
“You have a key, Jeongin,” you hissed to yourself, voice thick with sleep. “What the hell are you doing?”
The brightness of the screen burned your eyes, forcing you to squint as you tried to focus. It took a second too long to register the name at the top.
And when it did, your heart dropped. Every ounce of sleep vanished instantly, your body going completely rigid.
Your thumb hovered over the ‘decline’ button, but curiosity got the better of you, and before you could think twice, you answered.
“What do you want?” You snapped, or at least tried to. The exhaustion softened it, turning it into something quieter than you intended.
There was a long pause on the other end, and you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer at all, but then he did, and it made you flinch.
“You’re awake.” He said softly, like he couldn’t believe you answered.
“Unfortunately,” you shot back, your grip on the phone tightened as you pushed yourself upright despite the way your head spun. “What do you want, Chan?”
“Open the door. We need to talk.”
That made your entire body freeze. Your stomach dropped as you stared at the wall in front of you, trying to process what he’d just said.
“What the hell are you doing at my front door?”
“I need to talk to you,” he repeated, sharper this time. “Open the door, or I’ll keep knocking.”
You rolled your eyes and let out a frustrated breath, dragging a hand down your face. You debated calling his bluff, but the last thing you wanted was your neighbours filing a noise complaint, or the old drunk from down the hall snooping around in business that wasn’t his.
You dragged out the silence until Chan huffed out a breath of annoyance through the line, which caused you to snap back at him.
“You’re fucking impossible.”
You hung up the phone and forced yourself out of bed, your legs unsteady as you crossed the room and left to go answer the door.
As soon as you yanked it open, you wish you hadn’t, wish you’d stayed in bed, wish you’d stayed asleep.
Chan stood there, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding his breath the entire time. His phone was still pressed to his ear, but it slipped from his hand the second he saw you and he nearly didn’t catch it. You watched the way his eyes softened a fraction, shoulders dropping with something that looked dangerously close to relief.
You pinned him with a hard glare, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is so important that you couldn’t wait until morning?” you bit out.
Chan ignored the daggers you were shooting into his head and exhaled shakily, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize it. And then, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
The words hit hard. Harder than you wanted them to. Heat flared in your chest, sharp and immediate, dragging up everything from earlier. The fight, the yelling, the kiss that never should have happened. And all the months of healing you just went through, only to be brought back here, with Chan showing up at your door at 4 am like it was routine.
“Fuck you.” You snapped, slamming the door in his face way too hard. That definitely would have woken someone up, but you didn’t care.
You turned, already walking back to your bedroom, muttering under your breath as your pulse pounded in your ears. And then, another soft knock came.
His voice was muffled now, rougher than before, and you stopped. You didn’t mean to, your body just kind of did. Your feet were glued in place, fingers twitching at your sides, teeth digging into the inside of your cheek.
Maybe it was the way his voice cracked, or the look on his face before you slammed the door. Maybe it was those four stupid words he said that he knew he shouldn’t have.
Whatever the reason, you hated it, because it made you turn back, moving to yank the door open with a sharp breath.
His expression shifted instantly, morphing into mixture of relief, softness and something else that made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.
“You have two minutes,” you warned, your voice low and tight. “Then I’m slamming it in your face again.”
For a second, he didn’t speak. He just looked at you. Really looked at you. He looked at you with those stupid, soft brown eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips like this was something he’d been waiting for. It made your irritation spike.
You watched him blink a couple of times, seemingly snapping himself out of a daze before he swallowed and took a slow step forward.
“I miss you.” He whispered.
You barely had time to react before his hand lifted, reaching for you. You flinched away instantly, and the movement made his expression falter. He dropped his hand again, but took another step closer so he was in the middle of the doorway.
“Please, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice unraveling at the edges. “I’m going crazy. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t even think straight anymore.”
“That sounds like a personal problem,” you shot back before he even had time to finish. You tried to ignore the way your chest twisted, a small sliver of something you refused to draw attention to fluttering in your stomach.
“Please,” he tried again, softer this time. “I need you.”
Your entire body went rigid, the words hanging in the space between you, heavy and suffocating. And for just a second, you didn’t know how to respond. You bit down hard enough on the inside of your cheek that you nearly tasted blood. Your jaw tightened, nails curling into your palm to stop the onslaught of emotions from pouring out.
“You need me?” you asked slowly, your voice sharp. “Or you need my body?”
“I need you.” He answered with no hesitation. You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head and staring at him in disbelief.
“Funny. You seem to be doing just fine on your own.”
You watched the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed hard, his jaw clenching like he was trying to keep himself composed.
“I’m not,” he admitted tightly. “I’m just getting better at hiding it.”
The honesty in his voice made your gut turn. You weren’t expecting it, and that small little glimmer that settled in your stomach grew a little bit brighter. You chose not to respond to him, too afraid of what you’d say, what emotions would come tumbling out of your mouth. You just remained quiet, afraid to do anything else.
“Please,” he murmured, the word almost breaking apart in his mouth. “Just, let me have something. I’ll do anything. I swear.”
And that did it. Something in you snapped.
“Something?” you repeated, your voice rising, hurt bleeding through the crack despite your best effort to keep it buried. “That’s what I still am to you? Something?”
Chan started shaking his head back and forth the second the words left your mouth. He took a step closer again, and you didn’t have it in you to even step away. You were too busy fighting with the turmoil inside your chest to even consider anything else.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Then what did you mean?” you demanded, your chest heaving now, tears threatening to blur your vision as emotions crashed over each other too fast to sort through. “Because it sounds like you just showed up here at four in the morning because you’re lonely and you know that I’m stupid enough to let you in.”
“I didn’t come here for that.” He cut in, his voice suddenly firm. You laughed bitterly in his face.
“Oh, cut the shit Chan. That’s exactly why you’re here.”
Before you could say anything else, Chan let out a heavy sigh and pushed his way into your apartment. You didn’t even try to stop him. If you two were going to get into another screaming match it was better to do it inside the place than in the hallway for everyone to hear.
You closed the door and locked it, the sound echoing and settled heavy in the space between you. You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. Not yet.
Because if you did, you knew exactly what you’d see. Those eyes, that look, the same expression that had always made you fold no matter how hard you tried not to.
“Did you ever stop to consider the fact that I can’t stay away from you?” he asked, his voice low, breathing heavy. You could tell he was only a foot or so away from you, not going any further into your apartment than the small foyer.
You curled your hands back in on themselves, nails biting into your skin hard enough to leave marks, the inside of your cheek once again being pinched between your teeth.
Don’t turn around. Don’t let him have this.
“I hate you,” you muttered, blinking away a tear. Your voice was low and unsteady despite the bite you tried to lace it with.
On instinct, you curled your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together. You had barely just made it through the last time he did this; you were so close to being relatively okay again, and now here he was, doing what he did best. Fucking it all up.
A quiet exhale left him, like he expected the words to come from your mouth.
“No, you don’t,” he answered.
Despite your best efforts, you turned sharply, head snapping towards him.
“I should,” you growled back, anger flaring fast now, just sharp enough to cut through the lingering haze of sleep and alcohol. “I really, really should.”
“But you don’t,” he repeated softer this time, like he was stating a fact instead of arguing, and that only made it worse.
“Don’t do that.” You snapped, taking a step toward him against you will. “Don’t stand there and act like you know me better than I know myself.”
“I do know you, though.” He argued, voice still soft, like your anger wasn’t affecting him in the slightest.
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head, arms tightened around yourself.
“No. You don’t, Chan. If you did, you wouldn’t fucking be here right now.”
Chan’s jaw tightened at that, something flickering across his face before he stepped closer.
“I’m here because I can’t stay away from you.” He repeated his earlier sentiment, like saying it enough times would eventually make you have a change of heart. You hated yourself because a part of you knew it was working.
“You’re here because you know I won’t say no.” you fired back, voice rising an octave. “There’s a difference.”
“That’s not fair.” He snapped, his brows furrowing, jaw flexing, eyes turning to daggers. You ignored the goosebumps that raised all the way up your arms from the hard look he was giving you.
“Oh, it’s not fair?” you echo. “You show up at my door at four in the morning after everything that happened, after you—” your voice caught for a second, but you pushed through it. “after you messed with my head like that, and I’m the one being unfair?”
“I didn’t mess with your head,” Chan ground out, frustration bleeding through his words.
“You kissed me!” You spat at him.
The silence only lasted a second before he shot back.
“And you kissed me back.” He countered.
And that seemed to hit exactly where he wanted it to.
Your stomach twisted at the memory, anger and something dangerously close to guilt tangling together in a way that made it hard to breathe.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” you didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself. You tried to sound angry, but it wasn’t convincing, not even to you.
“It means something to me.” His voice dropped into something that was quieter, rougher, more believable. You hesitated, for only a second, but he saw it. Of course he saw it. He watched you like a lion watching prey; he was always laser-focused on every movement you made.
“So, what, you just— what?” you pushed, trying to regain control of the conversation before it slipped through your fingers completely. “You get to come here whenever it’s convenient for you? When you’re lonely? When you can’t sleep? And I’m just supposed to be available for you?”
A flicker of irritation rushed over Chan’s face, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.
“That’s not what this is.” he stepped closer again, hand coming up to reach for you. You barely had the energy to move away from him before he made contact. Because you knew once he did, you’d be done for.
“Then what is it, Chan?” you demanded, your chest rising and falling too fast now. “Because it still feels like how its always felt. You only want me when it’s easy for you. When it’s convenient for you. When you need comfort or a distraction. It’s never when you need—”
“No you don’t.” you laughed bitterly. “You need—”
”I. Need. You.” He repeated, slower, louder, cutting you off completely.
The force behind it made you falter, and for a second neither of you spoke. And Chan took advantage of your hesitation by stepping into your space, close enough that you would feel his breath fanning across your skin.
“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice dropping, but it wasn’t soft anymore. It was intense, pressing, relentless. “You think I haven’t been losing my mind trying to stay the hell away from you? Trying to do what you so clearly wanted?”
“I didn’t ask you to come here.” You tried to shoot back, but his presence made your voice falter, the tension rolling off of him strong enough to suffocate.
“No,” he agreed, licking his lips as his eyes searched your face. “But you didn’t stop me either. You still opened the door.”
“That doesn’t—” The words got stuck in your throat. He took another step closer to you, and with your last shred of instinct, you took a step back.
“Why are you standing here acting like I’m the bad guy for trying to fix this?”
You swallowed hard, and you didn’t miss the way Chan’s eyes followed the movement.
“Fix it?” you repeated, disbelief lacing your tone. “That’s what you think this is? You don’t just get to fix it because you decided you miss me tonight.” Your eyes were trying to focus on anything, anywhere but him. The golden skin. The long blonde hair. The plush lips and thick nose and sharp jaw.
“I miss you every night.” He said softly. And that’s the one that completely unravels you.
Despite your best efforts, your eyes find him again. They meet his, and he must’ve seen the way your resolve was cracking quickly, because he took another step forward. And then another, and then another, until you felt your spine hit the door.
The sound was soft, but it might as well have been deafening with how quickly everything else went quiet. Your heart was pounding loud in your ears now, so much so that you were sure he could hear it.
“You don’t get to do this,” you whispered, eyes already drifting over him, body already leaning into his space, like it had a mind of it’s own.
“Do what?” he asked, closing the remaining distance.
“Show up and act like you didn’t just ruin everything.” You stuttered out, knees growing weak from the way he was staring down at you. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again, and your breath hitched with anticipation even though your mind was screaming at you to get away, get away, get away!
“I didn’t ruin anything,” he murmured with a small shake of his head, eyes gentle, his focus locked onto you.
“You did,” you insisted weakly, voice barely holding together now. “You always do.”
Then, his hand came up. It was slow and deliberate as he moved to brace it against the door beside your head, caging you in without quite touching you. Your body moved on its own, head falling back, eyes falling heavy, breathing coming out in short puffs of tension.
The smell of cologne and whiskey wafted into your nose, making you dizzy with an unexpected desire. The need that was simmering low in your stomach was overwhelming. You wanted him. You hated that you wanted him, but you did. If anything just to make you feel something again.
“You’re still here,” he stated quietly, his voice like honey in your ears. “You’re still talking to me, you still opened the door.”
His gaze moved to yours, his breath fanning way too hard against your lips. If you just tilted you head up an inch, your lips would meet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. A small part of you liked to believe it was because you were still holding restraint, but you knew it was a lie. You were a goner the second you opened the front door.
“I hate you,” you whispered again, but there wasn’t any bite left in it this time, only a small whimper, and it made something in his expression shift. Like he knew in that moment he had you wrapped around his finger.
“Yeah,” he let out a low chuckle, his body moving to press against yours, voice barely there now. “Keep telling yourself that.”
You should’ve pushed him away.
You should’ve told him to leave.
You should’ve done anything except stay exactly where you were, trapped between him and the door, your resolve slipping through your fingers with every second that passed.
Because he knew exactly what he was doing. And the worst part? You were letting him.
Your breath came out uneven, your chest rising and falling too fast, too shallow, like the air between you had gotten too thick to breathe properly.
He was too close. Everything about him was too close. And still—you didn’t move.
His gaze dropped, just for a second, flickering to your lips before dragging back up to your eyes like he was trying to stop himself.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice low, rough in a way that made your stomach twist. “Say you hate me.”
You swallowed hard, your fingers curling against your sides.
“I hate you,” you forced out, quieter now, the words lacking the weight they had before.
Something in his expression broke. Or maybe it snapped. Because the next second, whatever restraint he had left disappeared completely.
His hand came up, not gentle this time—firm, decisive—as it gripped your jaw just enough to tilt your head back, and before you could even process it—
His lips crashed into yours.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was everything you’d been trying to hold back all night—frustration, anger, want—colliding all at once.
The force of it knocked the breath out of you, your back pressing harder into the door as his other hand braced beside your head, boxing you in completely.
For half a second, you froze. And then you broke.
Your hands came up, gripping at his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away, like your body had already made the decision your mind was still trying to fight.
The kiss turned messy fast.
Teeth clashed, breaths tangled, the kind of desperate that came from too much distance and too many things left unsaid. He kissed you like he was trying to prove something, like if he just held on tight enough, you wouldn’t slip through his fingers again.
Every ounce of anger you had just minutes ago melted into something hotter, something heavier, your fingers tightening in his shirt as if you needed him there just as much as he needed you.
But when his grip tightened, when he pulled you closer like he couldn’t get enough, when your name slipped out against your mouth like it meant something—
You didn’t stop it. You couldn’t.
His name left your lips in a broken breath, barely there, and it only seemed to push him further.
One hand still sat firm against your jaw, the other sliding to your waist, pulling you flush against him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go for even a second.
The door rattled softly behind you with the force of it.
Your fingers twisted tighter into his shirt, grounding yourself in something solid as everything else spun out of control.
You barely registered the moment his hand shifted, the way his palms flattened against the back of your thighs before he was lifting you off the ground, pressing you harder into the door. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, teeth biting down on his lip, hands cupping his face.
You were acutely aware of the way his fingers, still planted firm on your thighs, were dancing breathtakingly close to the edge of your panties, and it made sparks dance along your skin. He tried to distract you from the sensation, mouth consuming every inch of yours like you were the only thing that would keep him hydrated. And it worked for merely a second.
Then, he was pulling his mouth away from you, a trail of spit following him as he went, and the second he leaned down to latch onto the skin of your neck, his fingers stopped teasing. He slipped his finger into your panties, curling around the damp fabric, brushing his knuckle against your clit ever so slightly.
Your entire being shook, nerve-endings bursting into flames from the anticipation alone.
“Oh my god, Channie,” you breathed out, eyebrows drawn together in pleasure. You were already so far gone and he hadn’t even properly touched you yet. “Touch me again, please.” You begged.
Chan hummed in response, his tongue licking the spot where he just sucked a hickey into your neck. He lifted his head just enough to look up at you, and before you could say another word, he plunged his middle finger inside you. You couldn’t stop the load moan that left your mouth as the tip of his finger teased your cervix.
“O…oh my god, fuck… oh my god.” The words sputtered out as he pulled his finger out, only to slide it in again, achingly slow.
“Already so wet for me and I haven’t even done anything yet, baby girl.” He teased, pulling his finger out just enough to add a second. When he slid them both back into you, your head fell back against the door, crying at the feeling of his digits stretching you open. He curled them up just right, enough to prod at that squishy part deep inside you that always made you squeal.
His mouth fell back to your neck as he pulled out his fingers completely and let out a low growl.
“God, I missed this pussy so much,” he groaned. He inhaled deeply into your neck, like he was trying to absorb you into his skin, before his large hands squeezed at your thighs and pulled you away from the door.
He skillfully toed off his shoes, his mouth back on your neck as he carried you through the foyer. You made it nearly four feet before he was pushing you back into a wall, adjusting himself to he could bring his knee up to brush against the wet fabric of your panties. Your hips slowly rocked against him, trying to get friction, and a low chuckled left his throat that had you shaking in his hold.
“For someone who hates me so much, you’re fucking eager, aren’t you?” He taunted you, moving his leg just enough to have you moaning as you rode it.
“Fuck you,” you breathed out, unable to stop your hips from moving despite the bite in your words. Chan let out another low chuckle and pulled you from the wall again, walking into your living room.
“Not yet, but you will be soon.”
You had managed to make it another dozen steps or so, lips molded against each other in a familiar lock that always had you struggling to breathe in the best way possible. Your hips continued to rock, your clit catching on the buckle of his jeans just enough to have gasps of pleasure slipping from your mouth.
You pulled your lips from his and moved down to his neck, digging your teeth into his skin so hard he let out a hiss. In retaliation, Channie set you down on one of your accent tables and immediately began unbuckling his jeans.
His lips latched to your neck, sucking more marks into your skin, while your fingers curled into the waistband of his jeans and shoved them down before wrapping your legs back around him and pulling him against you.
He ground himself against your pussy, nothing but his boxer briefs and the poor excuse of panties separating skin, and the pressure of him poking at your entrance was enough to have another cry of bliss leave your mouth.
“F…fuck Channie. It feels so g…good. Please… please don’t stop!”
His response was to pick up his pace, moving his hips faster against yours. The table you sat on began to shake from the motions, and the photo frames that littered the surface crashed to the ground, but neither of you cared.
“I knew you’d let me back in. Knew you still wanted me.” He growled as he rocked his hips forward, pushing deeper against you. “You can pretend to hate me all you want but we both know this pussy aches for me.”
A loud whine left your mouth, head falling back to rest against the wall, giving Chan full access to your neck. He continued rocking his hips against you, mouth back on your neck, teeth digging into skin. Your legs tightened around him, hands tangling in his long hair, heels pressing into his ass to drive him harder against you.
You don’t know how long you both stayed like that for, bodies rubbing against each other, but when Chan eventually let out a low growl and curled his fingers into his boxers, letting them slide down to his ankles, you were both sweaty and panting.
He pulled you against his naked body, his erection pressed against you deliciously. You let out a small whine when he bumped the fat tip against your clit, and it only encouraged him to slide his hands underneath your ass and haul you off the table completely.
He managed to blindly walk the two of you down the hallway, his cock prodding at your entrance with every slow step he took. The anticipation was excruciating, your body growing more and more sensitive with each rock of your hips.
Somehow, you managed to reach down and pull your panties to the side before grinding down again. You were so wet, so hot, so on edge that when the tiniest bit of his cock entered you, less than just the tip, you moaned loudly into the hallway.
Chan abruptly stopped walking, giving you a smirk as you clung to him, unable to stop yourself from moving against him. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat,” he laughed dangerously. Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, hips still moving pathetically against him. “You want me to stop right here and fuck you on this carpet? Can’t even make it to the bedroom, can you, you filthy little thing?” he teased.
You let out a small cry as he rocked his hips upward enough to let him slide a little deeper into you before pulling out again.
“Answer me, Babygirl,” he rocked his hips up again. “You want me to take you right here?”
He rocked his hips up again, trying to entice an answer out of you when all you could do was moan. And then suddenly, you ground down at the same time he trusted up, and he slid in a little further, stretching you out deliciously. You both moaned in unison, the sound echoing off the walls.
“Fuck, please. Yes.. p..please Channie please. Fuck me. Fuck me right here. Please. I need you.” You begged legs locking tight around his waist, arms pulling his face back to yours just enough to lick into his mouth.
A hiss left his mouth when you rocked your hips and another centimeter of him sunk into you, and before you knew it, he was lowering the two of you to the ground in the middle of your hallway.
You barely had time to rest on the ground before Chan pulled all the way out of you, ripped your skimpy panties away from your body, and then slide all the way back in, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion.
You were so far gone, you didn’t even realize he had slipped a condom on.
The scream that tore through your throat while he stretched you out with his fat cock was borderline pornographic. You were sure your neighbours heard, but you didn’t fucking care. All you cared about was the feeling of an impending orgasm that was already building quickly at the base of your spine.
“God, you always f..feel so perfect.” Chan mumbled as he slowly pulled out all the way, only to slide back in again at a snails pace, like he was savoring every inch of your pussy. Your legs tightened around his hips, and all it took was one slow pull out, followed by a sharp thrust back in, pubic hairs rubbing against your clit, that had you cumming hard around him.
“See? I told you this pussy aches for me.” He growled proudly, grinding his pubic bone against your nub, which only made your cry louder. A loud groan rumbled its way out of Chans chest when he felt you clench around him, and before you could even take a second to recover from your orgasm, his hips had picked up and he was slamming into you.
Instantly, you felt tears prick at your waterline, the pleasure coursing through you as he pounded into you at neck-breaking speed. His large hands moved to grab your waist, and he lifted your hips just enough to drive himself deeper.
“Ch-Channie, oh… oh my… oh my god.” You cried, hands reaching out to grab his veiny forearms to try and stabilize yourself from the oversensitivity. His tip pushed against your cervix greedily and you choked on a cry. “Channie…ooooh fuck. Please. Don’t stop!”
“There she is,” he smirked down at you, the chain around his neck thumping against his chest with every thrust he made. “So pretty when you beg for me,” he cooed. His hand traveled up your body, stopped at your chest to roll your nipple between his fingers just once before it continued up and curled around your jaw.
“Look at me,” he growled. You didn’t even realize your eyes were closing, your body falling victim to the feeling of him stretching you out over and over again. Your gaze met his and his hips faltered for a split second before he was back to tearing your sanity apart. “That’s it. Keep your eyes on me while I wreck this pretty little cunt.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks as Chan kept fucking you, hips snapping against hips. His large hands never stopped moving. One second, they were on your hips, pulling you into him with every thrust, then they were traveling up your ribcage, gliding over your chest, the palms rubbing against your nipples. A long shiver raced up your spine, followed by a drawn out moan as he rolled both of them simultaneously between his fingers.
It was overwhelming, the soft heat of his body in contrast with the rough fabric scraping against your back every time his hips connected with yours. You were never one for pain, but you couldn’t deny how good the contrast felt.
“God, your pussy is so tight. She’s sucking me in. Fucking suffocating me.” His eyes squeezed shut as he flung his head back, face to the ceiling as his thrusts slowed drastically like he was trying stop himself from cumming too fast.
He slowed to a complete stop, despite your whimpers of protest, and stared down at you like you were something precious. So much so that it had your heart tightening painfully in your chest.
His hand moved to trail slowly back up your body, thumb eventually coming up to pull your bottom lip down. Your hips bucked against him, trying to get the friction back as the orgasm that was building subsided.
“God, you’re unreal.” He whispered, almost to himself as he dragged the pad of his thumb over your lip softly. “So fucking beautiful when you’re spread out like this for me.”
Something bubbled in your chest that was dangerously close to pride, but before you could respond, he slipped his thumb into your mouth and pushed lightly down on your thumb.
“Suck.” He commanded. Your half-lidded eyes met his and you obeyed him instantly, anything to get him to start moving again. And he did. Just one, slow, shallow thrust that had a squeal forcing its way out around his thumb.
“That’s it.” He cooed, watching you with a look of near adoration. You sucked lazily on him, hips continuing to move against his. He clicked his tongue and shook his head almost in disbelief as he pulled out and slowly thrusted back in. “That’s my girl.”
Like a bucket of ice water being poured on you, you tensed. Your entire body went rigid, eyes snapping all the way open, fully alert. He smirked down at you, and you felt a sliver of anger cut through the haze.
Without thinking, you bit down on his thumb, hard, and a sharp hiss left his mouth. But, instead of him pulling his digit out, his pupils dilated and his smirk grew wider.
“Oh, you fucking hated that, didn’t you?”
With a newfound strength, you ripped his hand away from his mouth and pulled yourself up on your elbows. There wasn’t much you could do, given as he was still deliciously stuffed inside you, but you couldn’t stop the fury that was quickly burning in your chest at those three words.
Before you could second guess yourself, you reached up and slapped him across the cheek. Hard.
“Fuck. You.” You growled.
Your palm stung, but you barely paid it any attention when you felt him suddenly throb inside you a second later. You clenched involuntarily at the feeling of his cock somehow filling you impossibly more.
You watched as Chan then prodded the inside of his cheek with this tongue, turning back to look at you with an intense look in his eyes. The side of his mouth turned up into a deep smirk, eyebrows raised like he was surprised you did that. You clenched around him again.
“See, your mouth is saying one thing, but your pussy is saying something else.” He taunted, completely ignoring the mark on his cheek from where your skin met his. “And you know what she’s saying right now? She’s telling me she’s all mine.”
He chose that moment to pull all the way out, causing a pathetic whine to leave your mouth despite the death glare you were sending him. Before you could catch your breath, he moved you onto your hands and knees, and then he was slamming back into from behind. Despite your best efforts, you immediately rocked your hips back against him, unable to stop yourself from arching your back at the feeling of him filling you up. A small plea slipped from your mouth when his hands flew to your hips and his nails dug into your skin.
“You want to act like a bitch, then I’ll just have to fuck you like one.”
From there, your mind went completely blank. His hips snapped against your ass, balls hitting your clit with every thrust, ripping squeals and loud cries from your mouth.
“O..oh shit, oh f…fuck, shit, you’re so fucking big, Channie” You babbled, the bubble of anger threatening to dissolve. You were quickly growing drunk on the feeling of his cock ramming into you, hitting you in the cervix so hard it you knew it was going to bruise. “S’good. So fucking good. D…don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”
A sharp cry left your mouth when his hand connected with your ass in a loud smack a second later. “You like that, huh?” He laughed at the way your pussy fluttered around him, and smacked it again, hard enough to leave a handprint.
The familiar tingling sensation started to form along your back again, and it was building quickly with the way one of his hands curled around you, slipping between your legs and rubbing your little clit.
“FUCK. Fuck yes. I love it. I love it s’much. ” You reached back and grabbed at his ass, trying to push him impossibly deeper into you. He was no longer thrusting in and out, but instead, he was shoving himself in so far and grinding just right that it had your vision blurring. He let out another laugh when you choked on a sob.
“God, you fucking love this cock so much, don’t you Babygirl?” he responded, obeying your silent plea and pushing himself deeper; so deep that your knees gave out and you were slowly sinking to your stomach with every thrust of his hips. He adjusted himself once, angling his himself in a way that made tears prick at your eyes.
“Oh my god,” you choked out. “Harder, please, go harder!” You could feel the sensation of your oncoming orgasm tingling up your back harder than it ever has before, and just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he lowered himself so his chest was pressed against your back and grinded his hips into you so hard you felt like you were going to pass out.
Another loud scream ripped its way out of you, your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, the chain around his neck cooling the skin of your back as he leaned in close to your ear.
“No one knows you like I do, Babygirl—oh fuck, jesus christ you’re dripping.” He half-growled half-groaned. “No one can make you feel this way, right? No one can fuck you this good?”
Unable to form a coherent sentence, you just nodded pathetically as his nails dug into the carpet beside your head. It was too much. It was all too much.
Him, his cock, the way he was tearing you open from the inside out. He was so deep you could feel him in your throat, and you felt yourself suddenly teetering on the brink of sanity. When he spoke again, you knew it was only a matter of seconds before you experienced the best orgasm of your entire life.
“Tell me, please.” His voice changed instantly from the low growl to a small plea, and you knew he was also getting close, could feel it in the way he was twitching uncontrollably inside you, hips stuttering, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. “Tell me I’m the only one, and I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you’ll see stars.”
“You’re the only one, Channie, your cock is the only—oh my god!” You couldn’t get the rest of your sentence out before you were, in fact, seeing stars. Your vision went blurry, a scream ripping it’s way out your throat as your clit caught onto the carpet below you just right again and again. Suddenly, all at once, that tingling sensation exploded across your entire body as you came, squirting all over yourself.
Chan let out a loud curse, feeling you wet his cock before he slammed into you once, pushing you into the floor and pushing himself so deep into your tight pussy it was like he was trying to engrain himself in your skin.
The groan he let out against your back as he emptied himself inside the condom was so loud, so broken, so full of pleasure that it had your pussy fluttering around his cock again. He hissed at the feeling, biting into the skin of your shoulder. His hips eventually slowed to a stop, but he didn’t bother pulling out. That, or he didn’t have the strength to.
You turned your head and rested your cheek against the carpet, chest heaving so hard your nipples were scraping against the rough fabric of it. Your body twitched at the feeling.
It was silent for a couple of long seconds before you felt Chan move. You couldn’t stop the whine as he slowly pulled out, already missing the way his cock filled you so perfectly. He kept his chest pressed into your back, moving the hair away from your neck to leave a small, sweet kiss behind your ear.
“You doing okay?” he asked softly. The gentleness of his tone was such a contrast to the way he way he was just talking to you before that it had your heart pinching uncomfortably in your chest. “Let’s get ourselves cleaned up and head to the bedroom, yeah?”
He moved slowly, pulling himself away from your body, taking any warmth with him. The cool air of the apartment bit at the sweat on your skin, and as Chan pulled himself to his feet and moved to throw the condom out in the bathroom, you couldn’t make yourself move.
It was like you were stuck to the floor, pinned down by the weight of what just happened. Anger prickled along your skin, but the guilt and shame burned brighter, finally breaking through the post-coital haze.
“Hey, do you know where I threw my shirt?” Chan called over the sound of running water.
But the only response was the feeling of a single tear falling from your eye, sliding down your cheek, and dripping off your chin onto the carpet below.
Not because of the shame and the guilt.
But because despite yourself, despite everything, he still showed up at your door, and you still let him in.
Part One || Channies Bonus || Part Two || Part Three
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