Bang Chan Enthusiast

"You're fucking kidding me." You stare at the text message. Three sentences that might as well be a bomb dropped in the middle of your living room.

Hey, sorry for the short notice, but I’m moving in with my boyfriend at the end of the week.

I know rent’s due soon, but I kinda already spent my half on the security deposit for our new place.

Good luck finding someone else!

shit

Rent is due in nine days, and your bank account isn’t exactly overflowing.

You’ve never lived alone before. Couldn’t afford it even if you wanted to. And the thought of scrambling to find a new roommate in a week makes your stomach twist.

You're halfway through drafting a frantic "roommate needed ASAP" text to your groupchat when your phone buzzes.

it's one of your few friends who actually bothers to check in.

Heard about your roomie bailing. Absolute bullshit.

Anyway I know a guy. Chill as hell, works freelance, needs a place.

You'd vibe.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The last thing you want is some rando bringing chaos into your already crumbling life.

But then your landlord's terse "rent due on the 1st, no exceptions" text flashes in your mind.

Fine. Give him my number.

Chan texts you thirty minutes later. His messages are polite. Full sentences, proper punctuation, none of that monosyllabic grunting.

He suggests meeting at the apartment tomorrow afternoon to check the place out, and you agree.

The next day, you're scrubbing the bathroom sink when the doorbell rings. Chan stands in the hallway holding a paper bag that smells like garlic and herbs. "Figured we could talk over lunch," he says, smiling like this isn't weird at all.

Up close, he's so much cuter than you expected, blond hair, unfairly big broad shoulders, dressed in a blank tanktop that showed them off perfectly.

You blink at the take out bag, then at Chan’s easy grin.

There’s no nervous energy radiating off him, no awkward shuffling — just this unsettling calm, like he’s already decided he belongs here. “Uh,” you say, wiping your damp hands on your pants, “you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts, already toeing off his sneakers without waiting for an invite. The scent of roasted garlic and rosemary spills into the apartment as he breezes past you toward the kitchen. “But food makes everything less weird, right?”

You trail after him, you don't know whether to be annoyed or charmed.

Chan unpacks the food containers, grilled chicken, some kind of herby rice, roasted vegetables that don’t look like the sad microwave steam bags you usually survive on.

He slides a plate toward you. “Eat first, then interrogation.”

“Interrogation?” You stab a piece of chicken, watching him warily.

Chan shrugs, mouth already full. “Standard roommate shit. ‘Do you snore?’ ‘Are you a serial killer?’ ‘Will you steal my leftovers?’” He swallows, grinning.

“The answer’s no, no, and only if you leave them unlabelled.”

The food is homemade stupidly good, and Chan’s presence is… unsettlingly comfortable.

By the time you’re scraping the last of the rice off your plate, you’ve learned he does something vague with digital marketing (“Basically, I convince people to buy shit they don’t need”), he actually enjoys doing laundry, and he likes to cook.

“So,” Chan says, stacking the empty containers, “you wanna show me around, or should I just start claiming drawers?”

The tour is quick — your apartment isn’t exactly sprawling — but Chan makes appreciative noises at the closet space and tests how sturdy the bed frame is (#whatdatmean).

When you hesitantly mention rent, he waves a hand. “Half’s fine. I’ll pay first and last upfront if you want.”

You stare. “You don’t even know the amount.”

Chan shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got it.” He pulls out his phone, taps a few times, and, before you can protest, your own phone buzzes with a notification.

It’s a Venmo payment for double what you were about to say rent costs.

Your mouth opens, then closes. “You—what? That’s too much.”

“Nah.” He pockets his phone, grinning at your baffled expression. “Consider it a ‘sorry for being weirdly pushy’. ”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue — not when your bank account is currently breathing its first sigh of relief in months.

A girls got priorities, and he doesn't really seem to mind. it's a win win scenario.

~

The first month was… strange. Not bad, just strange. he was genuinely nice, easy to talk to. it wasn't long till the initial awkwardness — if there was any — wore off. you'd become something sort of friends, and both of you settled into a quiet rhythm.

he'd left cash for rent in a neat stack on the kitchen counter on first of the month, slightly more than his half again.

When you tried to give him the extra back, he just waved you off.

You caught glimpses of his routine. disappearing into his room at odd hours, the low murmur of his voice through the walls late at night.

And then there was the day you came home early.

You weren’t supposed to be back until ten, but your shift ended early, and the bus was miraculously on time for once.

The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, just the hum of the fridge and the faint creak of the floorboards under your feet.

You’d barely set your bag down when you heard it — a low noise from Chan’s room.

Your fingers froze on the zipper of your jacket. The sound came again, breathier this time, followed by the slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin.

you thought it was a girlfriend he never told you about.

The idea punched a weird, hollow ache into your ribs — which was stupid, because it’s not like you had any claim on him.

Still, you stood there frozen in the hallway, his door slightly ajar, listening to the sounds of his pleasure like some kind of creep.

You backed out of the apartment, easing the door shut with just the softest whisper of the latch catching. Your pulse hammered in your throat as you ducked into the stairwell, pressing your back against the cool concrete wall.

The rational part of your brain screamed at you to stop being weird, to just walk back in like a normal person. But the irrational part — the part currently in charge — was too busy replaying the sounds spilling from Chan’s room to listen.

You get out of the building and circle the block twice, three times, counting cracks in the sidewalk. The air smells like rain that hasn’t fallen yet, and you bask in that atmosphere till roughly an hour has passed.

When you finally drag yourself back inside, the apartment is quiet. Chan’s door is shut tight, the shower running, and no girlfriend in sight.

she must've left early.

You freeze halfway to your room when the shower shuts off. your feet are planted still go to your room, go to your room

but you weren't quick enough, and a few seconds later, Chan emerges with only a towel slung low on his hips.

He's startled when he sees you, droplets flicking off his hair as he jerks his head up. “oh hey—” His voice is casual before you cut him off, "shit—sorry!" your face heats up at the sight, your eyes wander, trailing down his toned chest that still had water droplets running down, before snapping your head in the other direction.

was he always this muscular?

and you can't help but notice that there are no hickeys on his neck, no marks on his arms, and surprisingly put together for someone who just had his girlfriend over less than an hour ago.

"no no— you're good." he reassures with a smile, "you're back early."

You swallow hard. “Yeah. Shift got cut."

Chan leans against the doorframe, his damp hair curling at the ends. You try not to stare at the way his towel clings precariously to his hips, but your gaze keeps flicking downward anyway, betraying you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, fingers twisting in the hem of your jacket. "Just—uh. Busy day."

Chan hums, nodding. His eyes flick over your face, lingering a second too long on your flushed cheeks before he grins. "Cool. I was just gonna make some food if you’re hungry."

The casual offer throws you off. You were expecting — what? Awkward silence? Averted eyes? Not this easy warmth.

but you just nod dumbly. "Yeah. Food sounds good."

he pushes off the doorframe, padding toward the kitchen. The towel rides up slightly with each step, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones, and you have to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise.

“You good?” he calls over his shoulder, like he can feel your stare burning into his back.

“Fine,” you squeak, following at a safe distance, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. The kitchen tile is cool under your socked feet, a welcome distraction from the heat crawling up your neck.

Chan hums again, rummaging through the fridge with one hand while the other keeps his towel secured. The muscles in his back flex as he leans forward, and you’re suddenly very interested in the color of your sponge bob socks.

“Leftover pasta okay?” he asks, pulling out a container with a rattle of plastic. You nod mutely, watching as he moves around the kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the tiles.

The stove clicks to life, the hiss of gas filling the silence between you. Chan leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, “So,” he starts, “how was work?”

You blink. “Uh. Fine. Boring.” The words tumble out too fast, your pulse jumping when Chan chuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of every inch of space between you.

he scrapes the leftover pasta into the pan, the sizzle of garlic and butter filling the silence between you. His towel shifts dangerously low with each stir, but he doesn’t seem to notice — or maybe he does.

The corner of his mouth twitches when he catches you staring, and you snap your gaze to the ceiling like it’s suddenly fascinating.

"You know," he says, voice light, "most roommates don’t freak out when they see each other half dressed." The wooden spoon clinks against the pan as he scrapes the edges.

"I wasn’t freaking out."

Chan laughs, "You literally yelped like I pulled a knife on you." He glances over his shoulder, eyes dragging down your body in a way that makes your knees weak. "Unless you’re into that."

The pasta sizzles loudly in the pan, drowning out the choked sound that escapes your throat at Chan’s words. "I—that’s not—"

Chan turns fully now, abandoning the stove, and the towel dips dangerously low. His smirk is infuriating, "Relax," he murmurs, stepping closer, "Just teasing."

You laugh nervously, the sound too high pitched, too obvious. "I'm just gonna—" You jerk your thumb toward your room, already backing away. "Change into something more... home-y."

Chan raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Home-y,"

"yea—!" your voice cracks "y'know comfortable....home clothes"

Then you gesture vaguely at his towel, your voice cracking slightly. "Are you— uh, gonna put on actual clothes before we eat? Because I'm pretty sure health code violations apply to apartments too."

Chan glances down at himself, then back up at you, "Why?" He grins, tilting his head. "Distracted?"

"Yes—no," you sputter, crossing your arms tightly over your chest like armor. "I just don’t want your—" You wave a hand wildly in the general direction of his hips. "That—near my dinner."

Chan laughs, a full blown laugh, and you take that chance to bolt for your room, shoulders hunched as if that’ll make you smaller, less noticeable.

The door clicks shut behind you with a click, and you press your forehead against the cool wood, exhaling sharply.

"And turn the heat down!" you call out, voice too high,"Unless you want to burn the house down!"

Another laugh, muffled through the door. "Yes, mom," Chan drawls, the playful lilt in his voice making your cheeks burn hotter.

The stove clicks as he adjusts the flame, the sound followed by the soft thud of his footsteps padding down the hall. You squeeze your eyes shut, listening to the creak of his bedroom door, the rustle of fabric as he presumably — finally — changes.

You peel yourself off the door, fingers fumbling at the jacket of your shirt. The fabric clings to your skin, damp with nervous sweat, and you wrestle it off.

Home-y. Right. who even says that?

Stupid stupid stupid.

Your dresser drawer sticks halfway open, You grab the first shirt your fingers brush against, soft from too many washes, and a pair of sweatpants with the elastic stretched out.

'He has a girlfriend,' you think, shimmying out of your jeans. The denim catches around your ankles, nearly causing you to trip.

'Probably. Maybe. Who the fuck knows.'

You yank the shirt over your head so hard the neckline stretches. The mirror across the room reflects your flushed face, your hair mussed from the fabric dragging through it.

You look and feel ridiculous.

You pull up your pants, then pause, fingers hovering at the waistband. Avoid him. Simple. Logical. You can do that.

but it wasn't that easy. after all there is only so much avoiding one could do to someone they live with.

The apartment isn’t big enough for elaborate evasion tactics, and Chan seems to have a sixth sense for popping up exactly where you don’t want him.

Leaning against the fridge when you’re raiding it at 2 am, or lounging on the couch just as you’re about to claim it for a late night tv binge.

So you just ended up being cooped in your room for most of the day.

But Chan isn’t stupid. eventually after days passed by, he’s leaning against your bedroom doorframe when you crack it open after what you thought was a safe half hour of silence.

“So,” he says, arms crossed, voice dripping with amusement, “you’re avoiding me.”

You freeze, one socked foot hovering mid step like a cartoon character caught mid sneak. “No,” you lie too quickly.

Chan raises an eyebrow. “You literally just ducked into the bathroom because you heard me coming down the hall.”

“I had to pee.”

“For the fourth time today?” His grin lopsided, “Either you’ve got a UTI, or you’re full of shit.”

You grit your teeth, fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Maybe both.”

he sighs out laugh, then steps closer, “Listen,” he murmurs, voice dropping to a serious tone, “if this is about the whole towel thing—”

“It’s not,” you answer quickly, too loud, too fast.

“So it is about the towel thing.”

“I’m not—” You exhale sharply through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can you just—” You gesture vaguely at the space between you. “Give me, like, a three foot radius?”

Chan tilts his head, considering. His gaze drags down your body, before settling back on your face. “Nah,” he says finally, “I like you flustered.”

You bite your lip, eyes darting around, then settle on his, before darting around again.

The silence stretches, until you finally crack under the weight of it. “you—don’t you have a girlfriend?” you blurt, the words stumbling out in a rushed, stuttering mess.

Chan blinks, his smirk faltering for half a second before dissolving into genuine confusion. “A what?” His laugh sounds startled, almost disbelieving.

You press your lips together, suddenly regretting every life choice that led you to this moment.

Chan's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, "A girlfriend?" He repeats, "What, like, some theoretical girl who sneaks in when you're not looking?"

You gesture vaguely at him — the tousled hair, the unfairly sculpted shoulders, the effortless charm that clings to him like a second skin.

"You just—seem like the type." The words tumble out half mumbled, your gaze darting anywhere but his face.

Chan’s laughter echoes through the hallway, loud enough that you flinch—not just from the sound, but from the way it makes your stomach flip.

"Oh my god," he wheezes, leaning against the doorframe like he needs the support. "You thought I had some secret girlfriend sneaking in here to—what, fuck me while you're at work?"

You cross your arms tightly, "It's not that ridiculous," you mutter, but even you hear how weak it sounds.

"First of all, if I had a girlfriend, you'd know. I'm not subtle." His smirk tilts into something teasing. "Second, I'm very single. And third—" He pauses, tilting his head. "Wait. Is that why you've been avoiding me? You thought I was getting laid in there and didn't invite you?"

Your face burns. "No—that's not—"

His grin softens slightly, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. "So," he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "what is it, then?"

You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of your shirt so tightly the fabric threatens to tear. "Nothing," you lie. "Just—roommate stuff. Boundaries."

Chan hums, "Boundaries," he echoes, Then, "You know you can just tell me if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, right?"

You swallow hard, "Yeah," you mutter, gaze trailing to his eyes and holding his stare for the first time throughout this conversation "I know."

Chan pushes off the doorframe with a shrug, "Alright then," he says, clapping his hands together like he's wiping the whole conversation away. "Takeout time. You in?"

it's like all this man does is think about food...and make you weak in the knees.

You blink, "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

Chan pulls out his phone, already scrolling through delivery apps, "Thai? Or that new Italian place that opened down the street?" He glances up, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Unless you're feeling sushi again, but last time you complained about the wasbi being too strong."

The normalcy of it — the way he remembers your stupid, offhand complaints about condiments — makes something in your chest tighten.

You clear your throat. "Thai’s good."

~

The weirdness fades slowly, chan doesn’t mention the girlfriend comment again, and you stop bolting like a startled deer every time he walks into a room.

He starts leaving his door open when he’s working, the rhythmic tap of his keyboard drifting into the hallway. You catch yourself lingering in the doorway sometimes, watching the way his brow furrows when he’s concentrating, the way he bites his tongue when he’s stuck on something.

once, he catches you staring and pats the space beside him on the bed without looking up from his laptop. “Help me brainstorm this dumb tagline,”

You perch awkwardly at first, careful not to touch him, but Chan sprawls like he owns every inch of the mattress, his thigh pressing warm against yours. and before you know it, you’re leaning into him, pointing at the screen. “That one’s terrible,”

~

Movie nights become a thing.

The first movie night starts by accident — or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. You’re curled into the corner of the couch, knees tucked under your chin, scrolling through your phone while Chan sprawls across the other end, his laptop balanced precariously on his thighs.

Then the Wi-Fi cuts out.

Chan groans, tossing his head back against the cushions. “Fucking landlord,” he mutters, jabbing at his keyboard like it’ll magically fix the connection.

You snort, watching him glare at the screen like it’s personally offended him. “Guess we’re gonna have to talk to each other,”

“Horrifying,” he deadpans, then grabs the remote off the coffee table. “a movie it is.”

You end up with some terrible action movie Chan insists is a “classic,” but neither of you pay much attention. Halfway through, you catch him watching you instead of the screen, his head turning back to the movie when you caught him.

You brush it off, focusing on the screen, but your pulse jumps when Chan shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours.

The credits roll, and he stretches. The couch creaks as he shifts, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that does things to your already frayed nerves.

"Well," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, "that was a cinematic masterpiece."

You snort, grateful for the distraction. "Yeah, if you consider explosions and zero plot development masterful storytelling."

Chan’s chuckles “Plot is overrated,” he says, “Sometimes you just wanna watch things blow up.”

Chan then exhales heavily and stands. “Alright, I’m hitting the shower,” he says, stretching until his shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of toned stomach. You look away — too late — and Chan’s smirk is audible in his voice. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“In your dreams,” you mutter, but your pulse jumps when he pauses by the hallway, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says softly, almost to himself. “Exactly.”

You sit there, frozen, until the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running. The sound of water hitting tile fills the apartment, and you press your palms to your overheated cheeks, exhaling sharply.

Stupid. You’re being stupid. That probably didn't mean anything.

But then your phone buzzes on the couch beside you, and Chan’s name lights up the screen.

forgot my towel. mind grabbing it?

You stare at the message, then at the hallway, Trap, your brain supplies helpfully.

type back,

Seriously?

he answers immediately

dead serious. i’m vulnerable here.

You groan, dragging a hand down your face, but you’re already standing. His towel hangs on the back of his bedroom door, You grab it, then walk out to the bathroom.

You knock once, then freeze when Chan calls out, “Just come in.”

Your throat goes dry. “Absolutely not.”

Chan’s laugh echoes off the tiles. “Relax, I’m decent.” A pause. “Mostly.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, then shove the towel through the gap in the door, arm outstretched as far as possible. “Here.”

Chan’s fingers brush yours as he takes the towel. His skin is warm, damp, and you jerk your hand back like you’ve been burned.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice closer than you expected. You can *feel* his smile through the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

You bolt back to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

too much for your first movie night.

~

just when things were getting normal, It happens again on a monday.

You’re home early again, the apartment is silent. You toe off your shoes, and you were about to shout a "I'm back" when you heard it again.

Low, breathy moans slipping through the crack in Chan’s door.

Your feet root to the floor, ears straining as the noise curls around you.

His voice, thick with pleasure, murmurs something you can’t quite catch — then a wet, rhythmic sound that sends heat flooding your cheeks.

apparently, this man takes his....alone time very seriously.

that's what it had to be right? you can't blame him — you've been there once or twice.

Your breath sticks in your throat, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The sound— god, the sound — wraps around you, thick and heady, Chan's voice breaking on a moan that scrapes down your spine.

You should move. should bolt to your room, slam the door, drown it out with headphones. but your feet refuse to cooperate.

You tiptoe into the hallway, his door is cracked just enough, and your pulse hammers so loud its drowning out any other coherent thought in your brain.

A peak wouldn't hurt...

The door creaks faintly as it opens another inch, just enough for you to see.

Chan sits on the edge of his bed, but not like you thought. Not hidden, not private. No, this is something else entirely.

A ring light casts a glow over his bare skin, the camera propped on his desk angled perfectly to capture every inch of him. His laptop screen is open with a reflection of him and a rapid stream of comments too fast to read.

Oh.

Oh god.

Your stomach drops, then tightens all at once.

Chan’s head is tipped back, his throat working around a groan as his hand moves lazily between his thighs.

You press yourself against the hallway wall, pulse hammering, thoughts running a hundred miles per hour.

you did not expect this.

His breath hitches, a sharp, punched out sound, and your nails dig into your palms.

Chan’s fingers twist at the base of his cock, his thumb smearing precum in slow circles. The camera catches the way his abs flex as he arches into his own touch, his voice ragged when he murmurs, "Wish you were here." before he bites down on his lower lip. "Could use a mouth right now."

You watch, frozen in place, as his thighs tremble, his free hand fisting in the sheets beside him. The comments on his screen blur into a frenzy of emojis and a bunch of pinging donations. His breath stutters, his jaw clenching as his strokes turn erratic, desperate. “Yeah,” he gasps, voice breaking, “yeah, just like that—”

Then he comes with a choked moan, stripes of white painting his stomach as his back arches off the bed.

Gosh, he’s gorgeous — and you barely register the dampness between your own thighs until Chan slumps back against the pillows, chest heaving.

Chan exhales sharply, his fingers still lazily stroking his softening cock as he leans forward, just enough to tap something on his laptop.

he ends the stream with a wink and a low, raspy comment that you didn't quite catch. The screen goes black, and you barely have half a second to process the situation before your body kicks into motion.

You bolt down the hallway, socked feet silent against the hardwood.

Your bedroom door clicks shut behind you just as Chan gets up. You press your back against the door, lungs burning from holding your breath, and listen.

Water runs in the sink. A towel rustles. Then you hear footsteps.

They pause outside your door.

You purse your lips and hold your breath. Then Chan hums, before his footsteps retreat down the hall.

You slump against the door, exhaling shakily.

Holy shit.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you fumble to pull it out.

you home early?

You stare at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. Lie, your brain screams. Tell him no. but then how would you fake going into the apartment if you're already inside the apartment?

Just got back

You hit send before you can second guess it.

Cool. Dinner soon?

Your fingers hover over the screen, the weight of his question pressing against your ribs like a stone. The air in your room feels — too thick — and suddenly the idea of sitting across from Chan at the kitchen table, pretending you didn’t just watch him get off on camera, makes your stomach twist.

Gonna shower first.

Your phone buzzes again before you can even set it down,

Can I join?

You nearly drop it, blood roaring in your ears. Then—

jk. don’t use up all the hot water.

You toss your phone onto your bed and drag a hand down your face with a sigh.

You're deeply fucked.

~

That night, you stayed up aggressively googling him till his page came up.

Onlychans? really?

you'd laugh at the username if it wasn't for the videos that popped up when you clicked on his profile.

Chan, shirtless, sprawled across what is unmistakably your living room couch, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweatpants.

Chan, biting his lip as he slicks lube down his cock, the camera angled to capture every twitch of his abs.

Chan, moaning, his head thrown back against the pillows of his bed —your apartment, your shared space — while his other hand works something thick and glistening into his—

You slam the laptop shut.

Your face burns. Your pulse thrums in your ears. The apartment is silent — Chan’s out for a run, or so he’d claimed when he’d left an hour ago.

You open the laptop again.

It’s Curiosity. That’s all.

It starts innocently enough — just checking his schedule, really. A quick glance at his calendar pinned to the fridge.

"For productivity purposes," Chan had joked when you asked.

Then, sure enough, it spiraled.

You memorize the time of his streams, monday nights, Friday nights, he'd timed them perfectly in sync with times he knew you wouldn't be home. that's why you've been blissfully unaware of him filming in different locations around your shared apartment for the past two and a half months.

And the occasional late night surprise session that leaves you fumbling for your earbuds at 1 am. You'd literally be home, but he'd go live anyway. was he into that?

you were into it too, admittedly, because you turned out to be just as shameful as him.

The notification pops up at 1:47 am on a Wednesday 'Chan is live!' (yes, you turned his notifs on) and your fingers freeze mid doom scroll through Instagram.

your room is dark except for the glow of your phone screen, you're supposed to be asleep.

You tap the notification.

Chan’s face fills the screen, his grin already in place as he adjusts the camera. He’s shirtless, propped against the headboard of his bed, one arm draped lazily over his bent knee. The ring light casts shadows along his abs, highlighting every dip and curve.

"Late night surprise," he murmurs, "*Miss me?*" aaaand heat is already pooling low in your stomach.

His fingers work on hinseld, slow and teasing at first, thumb smearing precum in lazy circles while he talks— god, he sure does talk, filthy praises and half formed fantasies spilling from his lips like he’s whispering them directly into your ear. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, your other hand slipping under the waistband of your pajama shorts.

Chan arches his back on screen, his free hand gripping the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you guys are greedy tonight," he rasps, stroking himself slowly. His thumb presses against the head on every upstroke, just how you’ve learned he likes it — learned from watching, from nights spent with your phone hidden under your pillow, screen dimmed to its lowest setting.

"Fuck, m'close," Chan groans, your fingers moving between your thighs in time with his rhythm, matching the pace, hips shifting under the sheets, your breath coming shallow.

It’s not the first time you’ve watched him like this, but it’s the first time you’ve done it live, with the shaky thrill of knowing he has no idea you’re here.

A whimper almost escapes you when he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, his breath hitching. You press your palm over your mouth, stifling the sound.

The last thing you need is him hearing you through the thin walls.

The thought alone, him catching you, realizing, sends a sharp jolt between your legs. You squeeze your thighs together, chasing the feeling before it slips away.

His hand speeds up, the wet sound of his skin moving over his cock muffled only slightly by the mic's noise suppression. "God, fuck—gonna come so hard for you," he grits out, his voice cracking on the last word.

You press your free hand harder against your mouth, fingers digging into your own cheek as you watch his stomach tense, the muscles there flexing under the sheen of sweat. Your own movements stutter when he lets out a low, punched out moan, his hips jerking up into his fist.

You’re so close you can’t think straight. The coil in your stomach winds tighter with every stroke of his hand, every filthy sound he makes, matching his rhythm like you’re desperate to prove something— like if you can just finish at the same time, it’ll mean something. Stupid. It’s stupid. But your hips jerk anyway, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts against your palm.

"Fuck, fuck—" His hand stills suddenly, fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he tips his head back, you watch as his body locks up for one second — and then he’s coming, stripes of white painting his stomach, his chest.

Your own climax crashes over you at the same time, so violently you nearly choke on the gasp you swallow down, your back arching off the bed as pleasure burns through you in hot, dizzying waves.

He’s still catching his breath, his free hand dragging lazily through the mess on his stomach, fingers tracing the lines of cum with a slow, absentminded swipe.

His lips curl into that stupid, effortless smirk you’ve seen a hundred times,

"Mmm, fuck," he murmurs, voice rough around the edges, still a little breathless. "You all got me good tonight."

He reaches for a towel off screen, the muscles in his arm flexing as he wipes himself clean. You watch, transfixed, as he tosses the towel aside and leans closer to the camera, cheeks are still flushed, his lashes low.

"Hope that was worth the wait," he says, eyes flickering to the chat before he grins. "gosh you guys are generous with the tips tonight." and you catch a few of the comments.

slave4u: how bout you come and give me that tip

sweetheartonline: gone broke just for you </3

Chan just chuckles, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, I’m done. You’re all insatiable." He stretches his arms above his head, his torso arching beautifully, "Next stream’s friday. Be good for me til then, yeah?"

With one last wink, he reaches forward, and the screen goes black.

You yank your earbuds out, Your chest heaves, your skin still buzzing, your thighs still sticky, and you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyelids until colors bloom behind them.

you find it ridiculous that you're actually enjoying this, perverted thoughts. Stupid. So stupid.

~

Two weeks pass after that. You're hyperaware of Chan’s presence in a way that makes your skin itch. Every casual touch sends sparks skittering up your spine.

You try to act normal, you really do.

But you catch yourself staring at his hands when he cooks, remembering the way they moved over himself on screen, and have to physically shake your head to clear the image.

Chan, for his part, seems to thrive on your discomfort. He leaves his bedroom door cracked just a little wider than necessary, and infuriatingly, he's rarely not shirtless.

it's okay. you're okay. at least you tell yourself that.

till it's Friday morning, marking the beginning of your third month.

the apartment is quiet, still bathed in the soft gold of early morning light filtering through the kitchen window. you hum under your breath as you flip pancakes.

then Chan emerges, shirtless, his sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep.

He leans against the doorway, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk. “Morning,” he rasps, voice still thick with sleep.

this feels too domestic for your liking.

“Morning,” you mumble, not turning around.

Chan pads closer, bare feet silent against the hardwood, until he’s right behind you. His warmth radiates against your back, “Smells good,” he murmurs, and you swear his lips brush the shell of your ear.

The spatula clatters against the pan. too domestic.

Chan chuckles, as he reaches around you to steal a piece of pancake from the prepared stack. His chest presses against your shoulder, his skin searing where it touches yours. “Careful,” he teases, popping the bite into his mouth. “You’ll burn them.”

The pancake batter sizzles violently as you stand there, frozen, Chan’s body heat scorching against your back.

His fingers brush your hip as he reaches for the syrup, and you nearly drop the spatula again.

"You’re jumpy this morning," Chan muses, leaning against the counter beside you. "Bad dreams?"

sure, if 'bad' and 'wet' are the same thing. "something like that."

Chan hums, tilting his head as he studies you. "Got plans today?"

You flip another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just groceries later." The words come out steadier than you feel.

His grin grows. "Mind if I tag along?"

You shrug, "It’s just errands."

Chan snags another pancake, leaning into your space until his bare shoulder presses against yours. "Exactly. Sounds thrilling." His fingers brush yours as he steals the spatula, flipping the last pancake with a flick of his wrist. "Come on. I’ll even push the cart."

You huff a laugh despite yourself. "You’ll get bored in five minutes."

"Bet?" He bumps your hip with his, "Loser buys ice cream."

~

The grocery store is exactly as mundane as you predicted, but Chan makes it unbearable in ways you didn’t anticipate — his fingers lingering when he passes you items, his chest pressing against your back in crowded aisles like it’s accidental. By the time you hit the freezer section, your nerves are frayed.

"Pick a flavor," Chan murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder as he reaches past you to open the glass door. His breath ghosts across your cheek. "I’m feeling generous."

The freezer air hits your face, but it does nothing to cool the heat creeping up your neck. Chan’s arm brushes yours as he leans in, his fingers tracing the edge of a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "This one," he decides, plucking it from the shelf. "tastes like toothpaste sometimes, but eh" he said with a shrug.

You snort, grabbing a classic vanilla, but he plucks it from your hands and replaces it with something absurdly decadent, something with caramel swirls and chocolate chunks.

"Live a little," he grins, tossing it into the cart.

The checkout line is agony. Chan stands close enough that his knuckles keep brushing the small of your back, each touch sending sparks up your spine.

the cashier — an exhausted looking college student — scans everything, he pushed your hand aside when you tried to pay, and handed the cashier his card.

he caried all the groceries too, and swatted your hand away when you try to carry any.

it feels like he's your boyfriend.

The apartment door clicks shut behind you both, grocery bags rustling as Chan kicks off his shoes. You’re still fumbling with the laces of your sneakers when he brushes past you with the plastic bags.

You follow, already going to pull things out and putting them in their designated cupboards, Chan’s already rummaging through to find the ice cream, His grin is wide as he holds it up. "Scoops or straight from the tub?"

"freezer" you deadpan, "it's probably melted by now"

his shoulders slump a little, turning around to place the tubs in the freezer.

"and, scoops," you mutter, "We’re not animals."

he snickers, "Debatable."

Chan nudges the freezer door shut with his hip, the ice cream safely stowed away for later. "Movie night?" he suddenly asks, casual as anything, "Haven't done one in a while."

You nod, "Yeah. Okay."

You retreat to your room to change, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt before you even reach the door. The fabric sticks to your skin, too warm and you peel it off with a relieved sigh the second you’re alone.

The dresser drawer squeaks as you rummage for shorts and a tank top since its getting too hot, but your hands freeze mid reach when you hear Chan’s door creak open down the hall.

The unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor — jeans, probably — makes your throat go dry. You strain to listen, pulse hammering in your ears, as Chan hums under his breath. Something clatters, a belt buckle, and then the soft rustle of fresh clothes being pulled on.

You yank your own shorts up so fast you nearly trip, ears burning. Pathetic.

When you emerge, Chan’s already sprawled across the couch in loose joggers and that stupidly thin white tank top.

"You took forever," Chan drawls from the couch, already eating his way through a popcorn bucket.

"You're picking?" he scoffs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "After the garbage you called 'cinema' last time?"

You snatch the remote before he can lunge for it. "You picked Twilight unironically last time."

Chan clutches his chest like you've wounded him. "Bella Swan is a cultural icon."

You scoff, scrolling through the options, ignoring Chan's dramatic sigh as he flops back against the cushions. His knee bumps yours, but you don't pull away.

"Fine," he huffs. "But if it's another pretentious indie film where people whisper for two hours, I'm revoking your movie privileges."

"Fine," you grumble back, scrolling past a dozen of said pretentious indie films with moody black and white thumbnails. "But only because I pity your attention span."

Chan's grin is immediate as he stretches an arm along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder.

"pick something with action," then wiggles his eyebrows, "Or nudity."

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

"Ow—," Chan wheezes, but he's laughing, catching your wrist before you can retreat. His fingers are warm and rough against your pulse point, thumb pressing into the flutter there. "Violent and kinky," he muses, tugging you closer until your shoulders press together. "I like it."

You yank your wrist free and snatch up the remote again, scrolling through titles.

Chan's laughter vibrates through the couch cushions as you land on something, anything, just to shut him up. The movie starts with a car chase, tires screeching, glass shattering. Perfect. Loud enough to distract whenever Chan shifts beside you.

"Action and nudity," Chan murmurs, nodding approvingly at the screen where some actor's shirt rips open during a fight scene. "You do know me."

You sink lower into the couch, arms crossed. "Shut up and watch."

The first ten minutes of the movie blur into a haze of gunfire and badly timed one-liners, the volume turned up just loud enough to drown out the way Chan’s fingers keep tracing idle patterns against your shoulder.

You focus resolutely on the screen, but Chan’s warmth beside you is impossible to ignore. His knee presses into yours, his bare arm brushing against yours every time he reaches for more popcorn, and each touch sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

Then, during a lull in the action, Chan shifts beside you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His fingers curl gently into your hair, thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"You’re not even watching," he mmurmur.

You swallow hard, refusing to look at him. "Am too."

Chan hums, unconvinced, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin. "Liar."

His accusation hangs between you, thick and charged, and suddenly the movie feels like background noise.

His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, tipping your head back just enough that you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

His eyes are dark, there’s no teasing smirk now, no playful glint — just hunger.

Your breath hitches audibly.

Chan’s thumb brushes the corner of your mouth, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me to stop."

You don’t.

His lips crash into yours before you can form a coherent thought, the remote clattering to the floor as your hands fist in his shirt.

Chan groans into your mouth, fingers tightening in your hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with so much desperation.

The movie drones on, but all you can feel is the way his hips jerk forward against yours as you press closer. His hands slide down to grip your waist, hauling you halfway into his lap without breaking the kissl.

"You’ve been driving me insane," Chan pants against your lips, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace the dip of your spine. "Watching me, pretending you weren’t—fuck—" His words dissolve into a groan when you grind down against him, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against your thigh.

He knows you know. he has all this time. The realization makes your eyes widen slightly—but it doesn’t surprise you. Not really.

Not when Chan’s fingers tighten possessively around your hips, his teeth scraping your lower lip like he’s been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.

His palm slides up your ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your thin tank top, and your breath stutters against his mouth.

Of course he knew. The cracked doors, the late night streams he timed too perfectly with your schedule. Those weren't just coincidences.

You pull back just enough to see his face, your eyes wide with the realization that just dawned on you.

his lips are swollen from your kisses, panting, “Surprise,” he rasps, voice wrecked.

Chan’s grip shifts, hauling you fully into his lap, and you gasp when his hardness presses against you. His chuckle vibrates through your chest as he rolls his hips up, slow and filthy. “Thought you’d never crack,” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw.

Your hands fist in his tank top, the fabric damp with sweat where it clings to his chest. “You—asshole” you pant, hips jerking against his involuntarily. “All that teasing—”

Chan's grin widens "All what teasing?" he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kisses to your neck. "You mean leaving my door open just a little too wide?"

His teeth scrape your skin, "Or maybe streaming at exactly the times I knew you'd be home?" His palm cups your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple.

You gasp when he pinches lightly, hips jerking against his. "You're insane," you manage, though the words come out more breathless than angry.

Chan laughs against your throat, before his teeth sink into the tender skin just below your ear. Your nails dig into his shoulders as his hands slide down to grip your hips, guiding your movements as you grind against him. The friction is dizzying, the thin fabric of your shorts doing nothing to dull the heat of him pressed against you.

"Insane?" His breath is hot against your damp skin. "Baby, aren't the one who watched my streams every other night?" His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with maddening slowness.

You whine, the sound high and desperate in your throat, and nod before you can think better of it. The admission burns your cheeks, but the way Chan groans against your skin makes it worth it.

"yeah?" he rasps, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

Chan’s fingers flex against your waist, his breath hot against your lips. “Every fucking time,” he admits, voice rough “I’d pretend it was your hand on me,” His thumb presses into the dip of your hipbone, “Your mouth.” His gaze drops to your parted lips, then back up, heavy lidded. “You have no idea how many times I came thinking about you watching me.”

Chan exhales sharply, his nose brushing yours. “cancelled tonight’s stream,” he murmurs, lips grazing yours with every word. “would rather beg you to fuck me instead.” His palm slides up your ribcage, fingers tracing the edge of your bra through your tank top.

“You don’t have to beg,” you murmur, lips brushing his as you swing your leg off his lap. Chan exhales sharply, hands gripping your waist tighter like he’s afraid you’ll pull away entirely, but then you’re sliding to your knees between his legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of his joggers.

His breath catches when you tug them down just enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking against his stomach.

gosh he's even bigger than he looks on camera.

Chan's breath stutters when your fingers wrap around him, his hips jerking into your grip before he can stop himself. "Fuck—" His voice cracks, a hand flying to fist in your hair as you stroke him slow, watching the way his eyelids flutter.

He's hot and heavy in your palm, already slick at the tip, and the way his thighs tense when you swipe your thumb over the head is obscene.

Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair when your lips brush the head of his cock, his breath stuttering out in a ragged groan. “Fuck—fuck—” His hips jerk up instinctively, but you pull back just enough to tease, swirling your tongue over the tip without taking him deeper, and you can’t resist glancing up through your lashes to watch his face twist with pleasure.

“So loud,” you giggle, blowing a slow breath over the wetness you’ve left behind. Chan’s thighs tense under your palms. “All those streams,” you continue, stroking him lazily with one hand while the other traces the vein running along his length, “and you never moaned like this.”

Chan’s laugh comes out strained, his chest heaving. “it wasn't you,” he grits out, hips rolling up into your touch. His fingers tug at your hair, guiding you back to him with a quiet desperation that sends heat pooling low in your stomach. “Now stop teasing—”

You swallow him down before he can finish, humming around him just to feel the way his whole body jerks. His moan is filthy, unfiltered, his hips canting up into the wet heat of your mouth like he can’t help it.

You take him deeper, throat working around him, and Chan’s fingers tighten in your hair, not guiding, just holding on for dear life.

“god—” His voice cracks when you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock. His other hand fists the couch cushion beside his thigh, knuckles going white. “So good—shit—you take me so fucking good—”

You pull off with a slick pop, lips brushing the flushed tip as you peer up at him, teasing, thumb swiping over the bead of precome gathered there.

Chan’s chest heaves, his abs flexing as he stares down at you, His grip in your hair tightens just enough to sting — a silent warning — but you just grin and duck back down, sucking him deep until his thighs tremble.

Chan curses, his hips lifting off the couch as you bob your head, the wet sounds obscenely loud even with the movie still playing forgotten in the background.

“Gonna—” He's cut off by his own gasp, “Gonna come if you keep—”

You pull off with a wet sound, lips slick and swollen, and replace your mouth with both hands, jerking him so fast his hips stutter off the couch, his breath coming in ragged, punched out gasps.

“Wait—fuck—” Chan chokes out, fingers scrambling at your shoulders, but it’s too late — his back arches off the cushions, muscles locking tight as he spills hot over your fingers and his own stomach.

His thighs shake under your palms, his cock twitching in your grip as you stroke him through it, slower now, milking every last drop until he’s whimpering and oversensitive, his hands weakly pushing at your wrists.

“Turn around,” Chan rasps, chest rising and falling rapidly. His fingers slide from your hair to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your spit slick bottom lip. “Want you riding me.”

Your stomach flips at the command, but before you can move, Chan’s hands are gripping your waist, hauling you up onto the couch with surprising strength. He settles you over his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips, and the sudden press of his bare skin against yours makes you gasp.

Chan groans, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he leans back to look at you, really look at you, his gaze dragging down your body with a hunger that makes your skin prickle.

he hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and tugs, sliding them off, his breath hitching when he finds you already soaked through your panties.

"Fuck," he exhales, dragging the damp fabric aside with one finger, his touch featherlight as he traces your slit. His other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you down until your foreheads touch, his breath mingling with yours. "You're so wet," he murmurs, voice rough with disbelief. "Just from sucking me off?"

You nod, hips canting into his touch shamelessly, his finger circles your clit —once, twice, before dipping lower, sliding into you, crooking just right to make your back arch. His free hand fists in your tank top, dragging you closer until your chest presses against his, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the way your nipples harden against him.

His thumb pressing firm circles against your clit, and your vision whites out for a second — just long enough to miss the way his free hand fists in your tank top, yanking it up until the fabric bunches just above your chest. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth scraping over your nipple through the lace of your bra, and you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand.

“Thought about this,” he pants against your skin, his tongue lapping at the wet spot he’s left behind. “Every goddamn stream—imagined you like this, wet and desperate for me.” His finger curls again, dragging a broken moan from your throat, and his grin is all teeth when he leans back to watch you unravel. “Knew you’d be prettier than I imagined.”

You grab his wrist, stilling his movements, and his brows furrow — confused, frustrated — until you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap properly this time. His cock, half hard again, twitches against your thigh as you grind down, the friction drawing a ragged groan from both of you.

Chan’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements as you rock against him, his breath hot against your collarbone.

“Wanna feel you,” you murmur, fingers fumbling between you to grip him, slicking him up with your own arousal. Chan’s head falls back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as you line him up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

You sink down onto him with a choked gasp, thighs trembling as he stretches you open inch by agonizing inch. Chan’s hands clamp around your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, but he doesn’t rush you —just watches as you take him deeper.

"Fuck," you whimper, nails scraping his shoulders when he bottoms out, your body shuddering at the unfamiliar stretch. "You’re—god—you’re so big—"

Chan groans, hips twitching beneath you, fighting not to thrust up. "Yeah?" His voice is wrecked, breath hitching as you clench around him. "Feel good, baby? Stuffed full of me?" His fingers trail up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts while you adjust. "taking me so good."

You roll your hips experimentally, and Chan’s head thuds back against the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "That’s it," he rasps, hands sliding to grip your ass. "Use me—ride me just like you imagined."

The words send heat flaring up your neck, but you can’t deny them, can’t stop the way your body responds, hips rolling in slow circles. Chan hisses between his teeth when you clench around him, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"Christ—fuck—you’re so tight," he grits out, eyes locked on where you’re joined. "Bet you thought about this every night, hmm? Watching me stroke my cock on cam while you fucked yourself on your fingers?"

You whimper, thighs quivering as you lift yourself halfway up before sinking back down, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. his breath stutters, his hips jerking up to meet you halfway, and the sudden shift punches a ragged moan from your throat. "Oh fuck—Chan—"

"Say it," he demands, thumb brushing your clit as you bounce in his lap. His voice is rough, wrecked, his pupils blown wide, "Tell me how much you thought about this, how many times you came imagining me inside you."

You gasp when he pinches your clit lightly, your rhythm faltering, "Every—ah—every night," you admit, nails digging into his shoulders as you grind down harder. "Watched you—touched myself—god, wanted you—"

Chan groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he guides your movements, thrusting up to meet you. "Knew it," he pants, lips brushing yours with every ragged breath.

"Knew you were getting off to me—fuck—your little gasps when I’d look at the camera—" His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing your nipples through your bra. "Bet you came so pretty for me, huh? All quiet so I wouldn’t hear?"

You nod frantically, hips stuttering as his cock hits that spot inside you, the pleasure building dangerously fast. "Y-yes—*fuck*—Chan, please—"

"Please what?" he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk even as his own breathing falters. He slows your movements deliberately, dragging you through each excruciatingly slow roll of your hips. "Need me to fuck you harder, baby?"

You whine, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to chase your own rhythm, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting. "Yes—god, yes—"

he flips you onto your stomach before you can finish begging, his hands rough and sure as he shoves your knees apart against the couch cushions. The fabric burns against your bare thighs when he yanks your hips back, his cock sliding out of you with a slick sound that makes your face burn.

You barely have time to whimper before his fingers dig into your waist, lifting you on all fours with a sharp tug — his chest presses hot against your back, his breath ragged in your ear as he lines himself up again.

he doesn’t give you a second to adjust. He slams into you with one brutal thrust, punching the air from your lungs as your elbows buckle against the cushions. His cock stretches you open deeper than before, the angle hitting deeper, and you choke on a scream when his hips snap forward again, setting a punishing pace before you can catch your breath.

Hands clamp around your hips, fingers bruising as he drags you back onto him with every thrust. The couch creaks beneath you, the sound drowned out by chan’s ragged groans and the slick slap of skin on skin. His rhythm is merciless, no teasing now, just pure, desperate need as he fucks into you like he’s been starving for it.

Chan's grip on your hips shifts — one hand sliding up to fist in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bows beautifully beneath him. "Fuck, look at you," he growls, his voice rough with something between awe and hunger as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.

His fingers tighten, pulling just enough to make your scalp prickle, before his palm cracks down against your ass, the sound echoing through the room louder than the forgotten movie still playing in the background.

You gasp, thighs trembling as the heat blooms across your skin, but Chan doesn’t give you a second to recover. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that has your nails scrabbling against the couch cushions for purchase. "Take it," he orders, voice wrecked, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "God, you feel so good—clenching around me like—" His words dissolve into a groan as he picks up the pace, each thrust punching a ragged sound from your throat.

His free hand slides around your waist, pressing firm circles against your clit, and the dual sensation has your vision blurring at the edges. "That’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his rhythm falters for just a second, "Gonna make you come just like this—spread out, taking me so well—"

His thumb presses harder against your clit, and your back arches involuntarily, a broken moan tearing from your lips as the pleasure crests suddenly, violently.

Chan curses, his grip tightening as you clench around him, your body shuddering through the waves of it. "Yeah, there you go, gonna cum for me?"

You nod vigorously, your fingers twisting into the couch cushions as Chan’s thrusts turn erratic, his breath ragged against your ear. "Cum with me," he rasps, and it’s all you need.

Your body clenches around him like a vice, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense your vision whites out for a second. Chan groans, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a broken gasp, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Chan pulls out slowly, hissing through his teeth when you clench around him reflexively, oversensitive.

The couch cushions are damp beneath your trembling thighs, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you collapse onto your stomach, chest heaving. Chan exhales sharply, running a hand down your spine, before flipping you onto your back, more gently this time.

The shift makes you wince, your body still thrumming with aftershocks, he slides off the couch onto his knees between your legs. His palms skate up your inner thighs, spreading them apart with slowly despite your weak protest. "Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Just wanna taste you."

You squirm when his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin, but Chan’s grip tightens, holding you open. "Chan—" His name comes out hoarse, your voice wrecked. "I’m—ah—too sensitive—"

Chan’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open despite your squirming. His tongue flicks over your clit, just enough to make your hips jerk, oversensitive and trembling.

“You can take it,” he murmurs against your skin, “You’re a big girl, yeah?” His teeth graze your inner thigh, before his mouth closes over you again, and your back arches off the couch with a choked gasp.

You can take it. You do.

Every swipe of his tongue sends sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers twisting into his hair — not to pull him away, but to keep him right there, his mouth working you through the dizzying aftershocks of your orgasm.

Chan hums against you, the vibration making your toes curl, and his grip on your thighs tightens when you try to press them together instinctively. “None of that,” he chides, nipping at your skin before dragging his tongue up your slit again, “Just let me have you.”

You whine, hips caving into his mouth despite the oversensitivity, the pleasure tipping into something almost painful, but you don’t tell him to stop. Couldn’t if you wanted to.

"so sweet," he groans against you, the words vibrating through your oversensitive nerves. His fingers dig into your hips, pinning you down when you try to squirm away from the intensity. "No— stay still."

You whimper, but obey, letting him spread you wider as his tongue delves deeper, circling your entrance before dragging back up in one long, torturous lick.

"Chan—please—" you gasp, but you’re not even sure what you’re begging for — him to stop or never, ever stop.

His response is to hook your leg over his shoulder, angling you deeper into his mouth, and then he’s sucking you in, his tongue working you with precision. You sob his name, your hips jerking uncontrollably as the pressure builds again, too soon, too much—

You choke out his name, fingers scrambbling at his shoulders, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, before your hips jerk violently against his mouth.

“Chan, gonna—oh god—” The warning spills out brokenly, your thighs clamp around his head as you come with a shuddering gasp, your back bowing off the couch as pleasure rips through you.

he groans against you, the vibration wringing another broken sound from your throat, he doesn’t pull away, just laps at you greedily, his tongue dragging through the mess you’ve made of him with slow strokes.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your skin before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “You’re perfect like this.” His thumb brushes your clit once, testing, and you jerk with a gasp, your body still thrumming with aftershocks.

Chan grins up at you, all dark eyes and swollen lips, before dragging his tongue up your slit one last time.

Chan rises from between your thighs with a groan, his lips slick and glistening with you, you realize with a jolt — before his mouth crashes into yours, the kiss filthy and possessive, his tongue licking into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, sticky with sweat, and he moans into your mouth when you tug — sharp, just to feel him shudder.

You pull away eventually, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and other things, and collapse onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Chan drags you half on top of him, your head resting against his chest where you can hear his heartbeat still racing beneath his skin.

His fingers trace idle patterns along your back, the movie’s credits roll, forgotten, casting flickering shadows across the ceiling.

You nuzzle into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat slowing down, the rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. His skin is warm and slightly sticky, and you press a kiss to it without thinking, smiling when his fingers pause for a second before resuming their path along your spine.

"Quit staring," you murmur, tilting your head up just enough to catch him watching you with an expression that makes your stomach flip. soft, almost awed, Chan huffs a laugh, his thumb brushing your hipbone where he’d gripped hard enough to leave marks earlier.

"Can’t help it," he admits, voice rough with exhaustion "You’re kinda fucking gorgeous like this."

You snort, but your cheeks heat anyway, and Chan’s grin widens when he notices. He shifts beneath you, rolling just enough to tuck you more firmly against his side, his arm a solid weight across your waist.

The movement makes you wince, your thighs ache in a way that’s equal parts delicious and punishing, and Chan’s fingers tighten reflexively, his smirk turning smug.

"Sorry," he lies, and you bite on his shoulder just to hear him yelp.

his yelp dissolves into laughter, his fingers digging into your sides as he squirms away from your teeth. “Fuck, ow,” he complains, but his grin ruins the effect, “You bite hard—should’ve known you’d be a menace.”

You grin against his shoulder, pressing another kiss to the reddening mark you left behind. “Payback,” you murmur, tracing the outline with your tongue just to feel him shiver. Chan groans, his hips jerking reflexively beneath you, and you freeze when you feel him stirring against your thigh—already half hard again.

“Seriously?” you ask, incredulous, and Chan has the audacity to look proud, his smirk widening as he rolls his hips up against you.

“What?” he teases, voice dripping with false innocence. “Can’t help it—you’re right there, all warm and fucked out—” His hand slides down your back, fingers skimming the curve of your ass before squeezing lightly. “And you bit me. That’s basically foreplay.”

You press a hand to Chan’s chest when he tries to roll you beneath him again, your thighs still trembling from the last round. “Shower,” you mumble, and Chan makes a wounded noise against your collarbone in protest.

“Five more minutes,” he tries, lips trailing up your neck like he’s trying to convince you with his mouth.

You laugh, breathless, and squirm out of his grip before he can distract you properly. “No—shower,” you insist, swatting at his hands when they try to drag you back. “We’re disgusting.”

Chan pouts — actually pouts, like this big hunk of a man didn't just fuck the daylights out of you — and flops back against the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, but his eyes track your every movement as you stand, snickering when you wobble slightly on unsteady legs.

You stumble towards the bathroom, then you glance back at Chan, sprawled across the couch with his arms behind his head, watching you with that stupid, smug grin, and ask, "When’s your next stream again?"

his grin falters into confusion when your question registers. "Monday," he says automatically, his brows furrowing, "Why?"

You hum, "Just thinking," then you shrug, "maybe I’ll join you next time."

he's caught off guard when you leave him hanging and close the bathroom door behind you, "don't start something you can't finish!"

You flinched when his palm pressed flat against your stomach, holding you still. "Relax," he murmured, just for you, before raising his voice for the audience.

"See how tense she is? That's normal. First time jitters, right, kitten?" His other hand ghosted up your inner thigh, teasing, "Gonna take it slow, pay attention."

comments and donations pinged.

squirtlord: bro shes so pretty wtf

lixonfire: chan u lucky bastard

Chan laughed, breath warm against your ear as he leaned in to read them aloud. "They're obsessed with you already," he whispered, nipping your lobe before addressing the stream again.

"Alright, number one: how to tell she's ready." His fingers trailed lower, feather light, tracing patterns that made your breath hitch. "See how she’s arching into my hand? That’s your green light. don't rush — unless she asks for it."

You gasped when his thumb circled where you were hottest, the fabric of your underwear still frustratingly in place. "Chan—" His name slipped out before you could stop it, and the chat lost it entirely, hearts and dollar signs flooding the screen.

"Yeah? ," he coaxed, dragging his knuckles against you just hard enough to make your hips jerk.

His fingers curled under the edge of your underwear, not pulling them aside yet— just teasing the promise of it, letting the tension coil tighter in your stomach.

cumdump404: chan pls tell her she’s perfect*.

“See that?” His thumb stroked slow circles just above where you ached. “They’re begging for you.”

You whimpered when he finally hooked a finger under the fabric, dragging it to the side slowly. The cool air of the room hit your skin, making you shiver — or maybe that was the way his breath hitched when he got his first proper look.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, low, “That’s what you want to see before you even think about touching.”

he dragged the pad of his thumb through the slick heat between your thighs. "shit," he muttered, more to himself than the stream, before angling his wrist to give the camera a better view. The wet glide of his skin against yours was obscenely loud in the quiet room, punctuated only by the occasional ping of another donation notification.

You bit down hard on your lip, hips twitching when his fingertip circled your entrance without pushing in. You could see the corner of his mouth tilt up as he watched you squirm. "Patience, kitten," he chided, though his own breathing wasn’t entirely steady.

"Gotta make sure you're fully ready f'me," he said, dragging his finger down to collect more wetness before bringing it back up to swirl around your clit.

His fingertips trailed back down, skirting your heat deliberately, and you whimpered when he paused just shy of touching you properly. “Chat, tell me — how many of you would’ve just shoved two fingers in by now?”

jinnieinabottle: guilty

quokktoobig: BOOOO

Chan shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Amateurs. Watch.” His index finger finally dipped between your folds, dragging through slickness in one slow, filthy stroke.

Your breath hitched when his fingertip finally pressed inside— just the tip, just enough to make your hips jerk forward instinctively. "Easy," Chan murmured, his free hand splayed across your stomach to hold you still. The stretch burned sweetly, his finger working in achingly slow increments. "See how she’s taking me?" He angled his wrist to give the camera a better view, the wet shine of your arousal glistening under the ring light. "Tight, but not tense. That’s the difference."

Chan's finger curled inside you experimentally, the pad of it dragging against your walls with a practiced laziness that made your toes curl. Then— there. The sudden pressure against that one spot sent a jolt up your spine, your back arching off his lap and an embarrassingly loud moan spilled from your lips.

His grin was instant, sharp with triumph even as his voice dropped into that faux sympathetic tone "Oh? Was that it?" he teased, circling the spot again just to watch your thighs tremble. "You can say it, baby. We’re all friends here."

"Y-yes," you gasped, the word fracturing as Chan's finger crooked inside you again, relentless in its precision.

Chan only hummed, low and approving, his breath warm against your ear. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise curling around you like smoke. "Now tell them where." His fingertip pressed harder, deliberate, and your hips stuttered against his hand. "Right—right there, fuck—"

The stream's audio picked up your sharp inhale as Chan crooked his finger just right again, “Watch the angle,” Chan instructed to the stream twisting his wrist to demonstrate. “You’re not finger fucking a thanksgiving turkey.”

His free hand slid up to palm your breast through your shirt, thumb rolling over your nipple. “And always, always keep the rest of her involved.”

slave4u: me next me next

quokktoobig: bro she’s literally shaking

The stretch burned brighter when his second finger pressed alongside the first, his palm tilting to ease the way. You gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets, but Chan’s free hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together as he squeezed reassurance. "Breathe," he murmured, just for you, before shifting back into instructor mode for the stream.

"See how she’s opening up for me? That’s the rhythm you want— press in on her exhale." His fingers retreated slightly, then pushed back in deeper, the drag of his knuckles against your walls drawing a shaky moan from your throat.

"thereee you go," he praised, thumb circling your clit, the dual stimulation had your hips rocking helplessly, but his grip on your hand tightened, holding you still. "None of that," he chided, though his voice was warm with amusement. "Let me do the work. yea?" His fingers curled again.

"That’s the motion— come here, chat, look close." He angled the camera down, his fingers glistening as they moved inside you.

“You wanna speed up?” he asked you, and the sincerity in his voice— like he’d stop if you said no. he would.

"yes— hnnng —please don't stop," you managed, the words catching in your throat as his fingers twisted deeper. He turned back to the camera. "Hear that, chat? Consent is always sexy." His fingers sped up,

Another donation alert chimed

lixonfire: TELL HER SHE'S PRETTY WHEN SHE CUMS

Chan laughed breathlessly. "Oh, she knows," he said, but his thumb rolled over your clit with renewed focus, The coil in your stomach tightened, your muscles fluttering around his fingers, and his breath hitched. "There it is," he breathed, "That's it, let go. I've got you."

and it's like you came on command, your back arching off his chest as pleasure crackled through your nerves.

Chan's fingers slowed, gentling you through it, his praise a warm murmur under the chaos of the chat. "Fuck, look at her," he told the stream, his voice rough with awe. "wait for her to ride it out, don't be greedy" His fingers slowed before stilling completely and slipping out of you with a soft, obscene sound, and you shuddered, oversensitive and boneless against him.

You twitched when his fingertips brushed your knee, oversensitive and still thrumming. Chan noticed, and his smirk softened into something warmer. "You good?" he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear. The question was private, just for you, but the microphone caught it anyway,

cumdump404: i think he's in love with her

You nodded, swallowing hard, and Chan’s grin turned wicked again as he straightened. "She says she’s good," he announced to the stream, winking at the camera.

"And that," Chan announced, dragging his damp fingers across your thigh one last time for the camera's benefit, "is today's lesson." he pulled your now soaked panties back on you and gave it a little pat.

"Say goodbye, chat. Our star needs a break." His palm settled warm against your stomach as he nudged you gently. "Wave bye, kitten."

You lifted a trembling hand toward the camera, fingers fluttering in a weak approximation of a wave.

slave4u: pls bring her back next stream

jinnieinabottle: bye angel

quokktoobig: I just came so hard rn

lixonfire: holy shit that was so hot

Chan's laugh was low and pleased as he leaned into frame, his free hand adjusting the camera angle to capture the both of you— his face, smug and satisfied, and your body still loose limbed with pleasure. "Next time, maybe we'll teach you how to make her beg," he mused, winking at the lens before tapping the screen to end the stream.

a/n: I wanna make a long fic ab this...

“Not the time to act sassy, little miss,” Chris mocks you. “You asked Felix,” he repeats. 

“What did I ask Felix?” You look at him dumbfounded. 

Chris folds his arms, rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t even start. You know what I’m talking about.”

It’s true, you do know. You just don’t know why it seems to be bothering Chris so much, why is he so invested in this. 

“Why do you sound mad?”

“‘Cause I am mad!” Chris states matter-of-factly. “And worried about your lack of judgment.” 

You roll your eyes at him — he’s always so dramatic. He should have pursued a career as an actor, really, because he’s literally causing a scene over nothing like you’d just betrayed him or something. 

“Why are you even mad? I asked you first! And you said no.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go and ask someone else!”

“Why not?”

“Because!” 

Now he isn’t making any sense, and you are starting to become bored of this pointless conversation. You hug your knees, tilting your head in confusion. 

“I genuinely don’t get why you’re so upset. I asked Felix, so what?”

And Chris sighs, opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again before he closes it, unsure of what to say. Then, after putting much thought into what to say, he clears his throat and finally speaks.

“Okay, first— he’s my best friend,” Chris starts, lifting one finger up in the air dramatically, and you immediately interrupt him. 

“He’s my friend, too. And hey! Fuck you, I thought I was your best friend,” you cross your arms over your chest. 

“Will you let me finish, woman?” Chris sighs, facepalming himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, he’s your friend, too, and you’re both my best friends. That’s why this is fucked up on so many levels.” 

“Chris, it’s just sex.”

“It’s not—” he takes a deep breath, “it’s not just sex—” he scolds you much like a strict parent would, and doesn’t appreciate it in the slightest when you roll your eyes at him, “it’s your first time and it should be with someone you love and care about.”

“Alright grandma,” you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m being serious.”

“Chris, I love you and I care about you,” you don’t hesitate to say. “So I asked you first. And I also love and care about Felix.”

Chris scoffs. 

“Let me rephrase that— it should be with someone you’re in love with,” he declares. 

You so desperately want to tell him it still doesn’t change anything. It’s just a technicality, and besides that, you’re also in love with him for the record, but you probably shouldn’t say that. Not when he’s here in your living room, interrupting a very good reading session because he found out you asked Felix, too. 

In your defence, you asked Felix in a totally platonic way just to get over the fact you’d gotten rejected by Chris. It should’ve been the magical moment in which the two characters realise they’ve been idiots the whole time, confess their feelings to one another, and fuck until their bodies are all sore and stuff like that. It didn’t go as planned, of course, because when anything ever does in your life?

“Chris, I really appreciate you caring for me, but it’s not mandatory or something,” you groan out of frustration. “Are you saying you were in love with every person you slept with?” 

“Yes!” 

His answer leaves you flabbergasted, but only for, like 0.2 seconds, because then you remember Chris is a big ol’ sap who spent his entire teenage years writing love poems and love songs and that he knows by heart every single romantic movie you could think of — it only makes sense that he’s only ever made love instead of just having sex. Ouch?

“Look— I don’t need that,” you try to make him understand your point of view, “I just wanted someone who cared about me to do it with. That’s why I asked you. I know you’re experienced and I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me or anything like that.”

“You asked Felix, too, though.” 

“Yeah, but that was, like, totally platonic,” you shrug, and you’re telling the truth. “Plus, he said no anyway. Wow, look at me— getting turned down by two guys in two months! It really boosts one’s self esteem, huh?”

Chris snorts, not quite amused by your sarcasm. Why are you so stubborn over this topic, he’ll never understand. Why are you desperately trying to rush this, without even contemplating the consequences of this type of actions. Chris deems himself a coward for not revealing the reason why he turned the offer down, but he figures he should leave it for another time. When you’ll be eighty years old is fine. 

“Of course he said no, he knows I would’ve kicked his ass if he’d agreed to this insanity.” 

“I kind of get why you’re cockblocking me, even if I think you’re being a little unreasonable, but I really don’t get why you’re cockblocking Felix, too.” 

“I already told you why. It’s fucked up and I don’t want things to change between the three of us.”

“Why would they change?”

Because I’m in love with you!, Chris desperately wants to say, and I don’t want you to sleep with my best friend!. It’s a reasonable and sensible argument, isn’t it? Maybe not so much, but who cares. Chris knows Felix isn’t in love with you, and he also knows you’re not in love with Felix, so that’s why you shouldn’t have sex with Felix in the first place. Then, Felix knows about Chris’ feelings for you, so that’s another reason why it should never happen — he wouldn’t be able to look at Felix ever again if he slept with you. 

“Just listen to me, okay?” Chris cuts the conversation short. “It’s a bad idea. End of the story.” 

“Fine,” you give up. “I won’t ask anyone else you know. Message received.” 

Chris facepalms himself again. You seem to keep missing the point of what he’s telling you and he doesn’t know if you’re testing him or you’re actually being serious right now. 

“Gosh, you— you’re gonna make my brain explode,” Chris groans, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why are you so stubborn? You should wait for the one you love.” 

But you already asked the one you love. And he said no.

“Yeah. Okay, fine,” you give up with a sigh. “You win.” 

Chris actually facepalms himself. 

“It’s not about winning anything. I’m just trying to put some sense into you. I wouldn’t want you to regret it or end up getting hurt.” 

You nod, but only to shut him up. He doesn’t know the reason behind why you’ve asked him and, frankly, he doesn’t need to know. Chris is a great friend and always worries about you — maybe too much, at times, coming off as a hyper protective parent. 

“Yeah, I get it,” you hum. “Can we just forget about it now? I’m not in the mood to talk about this any more.” 

Chris is still worried about you, but nods anyway, not wanting to push you to talk to him if you don’t feel like it.  

“Hm,” Chris hums approvingly. He pulls you right into his arms for a hug to ease the tension, feeling instantly better when he feels you relax in his embrace. “I’m sorry for acting so protective. You know I care about you, right?”

You nod. 

“I know. And I appreciate it, really. But I’m a big girl, Chris. I think I can make decisions by myself.” 

Chris holds you tighter. He silently accepts the boundary you just put between the two of you. 

— 

Until he doesn’t. 

Until you’re out one night and he’s gone for literal minutes and when he’s back there’s a guy between your legs. Literally between your legs. You’re sitting on one of those super tall chairs, dressed in a beautiful, but also very short dress, giggling and batting your eyelashes at someone Chris has never seen before. What the fuck? Who the fuck is that dude? Has he just spawned between your thighs from nowhere?

He’s behind that guy within seconds, grabbing him by the collar and practically shoving him away from you. He’s met with your shocked expression, with the bewildered look distorting the guy’s features. 

“Chris! What the hell!” You shout, jumping off the chair and adjusting your dress so that you’re not showing too much skin. “Are you out of your mind?” 

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was just about to ask you the same damn thing,” he barks, mad at you for no reason. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

The guy who was previously on you looks bewildered. He points at Chris, looks at you frowning. “Is this your boyfriend?” 

You scoff. 

“No, this is my annoying best friend whose primary mission in his life is to cockblock me in every possible way, every chance he gets.” 

Now it’s Chris who scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest as if he were in the right. As if he weren’t fucking obsessed with your virginity or something. You need to have a serious talk with him all over again. 

“I’m just making sure you won’t make any mistakes you’re going to regret.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. 

“Who says I’m going to regret this?” 

“Really?” Chris quirks an eyebrow at you. “What’s this guy’s name?” 

“Jeonghan.” 

“Uh, actually— it’s Jaehyun,” the guy clarifies. 

Chris makes a face. As if to say, ‘see? I told you.’ You sigh, not wanting to admit defeat. That he’s right and you’re wrong. 

“Well, the music is loud and I misheard him. Is that a crime?” 

“No, but I think it’s concerning how stupid and immature you’re being right now.”

Jeonghan— Jaehyun looks a bit uncomfortable. “Uhhh. I think I should go.” 

You keep glaring at Chris and Chris keeps glaring at you. The guy leaves and it goes unnoticed. You can’t believe Chris just called you stupid and immature and thought it would be okay. Tears start prickling in your waterline. 

“Why are you being such an asshole right now?” 

Chris’ features soften. He wants to explain himself and tell you he’s sorry, that it’s not what he meant, but you don’t give him a chance to. You’re out of his sight before he can add anything else. 

He runs after you. He chases you and he catches you, hand firmly yet reassuringly wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

You don’t say anything. Chris sighs. 

“I’m really sorry.”

“You hurt my feelings.” 

Chris’ heart shrinks. He feels terribly guilty when he looks at you and sees you drying your eyes with the hem of your sleeve. Great, he made you cry. He really is an asshole. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says once more. He opens his arms, pulls you in for a hug. “C’mere.” 

You don’t wrap your arms around him. That’s how he knows you’re mad, and you’ve got every right to be. 

“It was out of line. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. And I shouldn’t have called you stupid or immature. I was an ass.” 

“It’s just— we just keep on arguing on the same shit. You don’t get my point of view and I don’t understand why you care so much about me losing my virginity.” 

Chris’ heart skips a beat when he’s put before the evidence of the truth. Why does he care so much? Huh. He shouldn’t tell you. Surely not right now.

“I just don’t want you to—”

“Regret it, I know. You’ve said it a million times already,” you sigh. “I regret telling you, though. If that’s how you’re going to act every single time.” 

“You can’t blame me for trying to look out for you.” 

“Well, I can if it means all you’re gonna do is embarrass me and call me stupid and act like a possessive boyfriend.” 

Chris’ stomach feels weird. He doesn’t like where this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the fact that you’re right, he’s nobody to tell you what to do. Especially, he’s nobody to tell you who you should or shouldn’t sleep with. It’s your body and your choice, and he has to respect that.

“I’ve already told you that I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time, too. I just don’t understand what you want from me. I asked you first, you said no. I asked Felix, you got mad. You told me it should be with someone I care about, I told you I care about you and you said it was different,” you ramble on, a few people look curiously at you as they pass by. “Like, seriously. You’re like that dog in the story we once read in the Spanish course we took.” 

“What dog?” Chris questions, confused, frowning. 

“The one who won’t eat and won’t let others eat either,” you explain. “Pun not intended,” you roll your eyes at him, “but really. It’s getting ridiculous. I’m a grown woman, Chris.” 

Chris’ mouth and lips move before he can even comprehend what he’s doing. The sentence leaves him so naturally it takes the both of you off guard. 

“Do you still want me to be your first?” 

Your eyes widen, legs almost nearly give in. Did you hear him right?

“What?” 

The damage’s already done. There’s no point in denying what he’s said. Chris does his best to calm down his nerves and swallow the thick lump in his throat. It’s make it or break it. 

“Do you still want me to be your first?” He repeats slowly, looking you in the eye. The straightforwardness takes you off guard. “‘Cause I’ll do it. If you still want me to be your first I’ll do it.” 

You look at him, trying to understand where all this is coming from. After all, he rejected you the first time you asked him. What changed now?

“You— I already asked you. You said no. How is that any different now?” 

Chris sighs. Technically, you’re right. But still, you don’t know why he turned your offer down in the first place. It’s not because he didn’t want you— quite the opposite, actually. 

“I said no ‘cause I didn’t want it to be an impulsive decision of you,” Chris explains. “I still think you should wait for the right guy. But you’re so stubborn and I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret with a random asshole that won’t treat you right.” 

“Chris…”

“But if you’re sure about this… if you want me to be your first, I’m okay with it.” 

You shake your head. Chris feels as if his heart has stopped beating inside his ribcage. 

“No.”

Chris blinks. His stomach drops.

“No?”

“You shouldn’t do it if it’s not something you want as well. I won’t force you. I couldn't bear to look at myself ever again knowing I made you do something you didn’t want.” 

Chris sighs. 

“It’s not because of that that I said no. I want you to be sure.” 

“I am sure. Why would I ask you if I wasn’t sure?” 

“I don’t know!” 

You stare into each other’s eyes for a while. Then, you both burst into a laugh. Everything is always so easy with Chris. That’s how you know you aren’t going to regret choosing him to be your first. The fact that you’d like for him to also be your last is another matter. 

“Alright. Then I guess this means we’re having sex.”

Chris’ eyes widen. 

“Now?” 

You can feel your cheeks becoming red, matching his face and ears. “No, no, not right now! I feel like we should sit down and talk about it first, before anything happens.” 

He nods. 

“Sounds like the right thing to do,” Chris says. 

—

Sit down and talk about it you do, that same night. Chris drives you home and you invite him in without any hidden meaning, of course. You’ve already agreed that it’s not happening tonight.

Even though you’re sure about your decision to ask Chris to be your first, you need to wait for other reason. First of all, you’re not wearing your sexiest lingerie. Secondly, your bedroom is a mess. Because if it were for you… you’d let him fuck you in this instant. 

He looks like the epitome of sex. With his hair falling in front of his eyes, his plump lips a bit red from all the nervous biting— and then the sexiest outfit he could ever choose (it’s just a pair of dark grey cargo jeans and a black tank top, but you have a crush on him and you’re horny for him).

“So you just want… to get it over with?” He asks, trying to understand how it’s supposed to happen. 

“I mean… it’s not like I want you to just come here, stick it inside and then leave,” you explain and for some reason you both blush at the implication behind your words.

“Mhhh, got it. So, like, you’re okay with foreplay and getting to know each other’s bodies first, right?” 

You nod. “Yeah. I want you to teach me all the basic stuff. Help me see what I’ve been missing out.” 

Chris wiggles his eyebrows jokingly. “Ohhh, so you want the whole Chris Bang Experience™️?” 

“Chris Bang Experience?”

“You forgot ™️.” 

“Is it really a thing?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, not convinced. 

“Of course it is, but not the point,” Chris dismisses the topic. “Back to us. Is kissing allowed?” 

“I mean— of course,” you reply. “I can’t imagine going straight to fucking without making out first. You know, a little touching over the clothes while we kiss, and then it escalates and… you know.”

It feels weird to think that you’re planning your first time with Chris in detail. Here, on your couch, going through every detail of how it’s going to be. It feels weird but also exciting and you cannot wait. 

“Alright, sounds good.” 

He smiles at you. You smile back, trying not to show how nervous and excited you are to do this. With Chris, of all people. 

“Do you… uh. It feels a bit weird to ask,” you chuckle nervously, not sure how to put the question. 

“You know I won’t judge. You can ask me anything.” 

Damn, Chris. He’s going to make your heart explode. 

“It’s a bit personal.” 

He pulls a face. 

“We’re literally talking about me taking your virginity.” 

He’s right. You shrug. 

“I, uh… do you… want me to shave? Down there, I mean… Do you have a preference?” 

His features soften. He sighs. 

“Okay, first of all. You always, always have to do what makes you feel the most comfortable. Got it?” You nod. “And then— promise me you’re never going to sleep with anyone who tells you how to keep your… intimate parts. Alright?” 

“Alright. I was just checking what your preferred…” 

“Confidence. My preference is confidence.”

It takes you off guard. He sounds sincere, and he is. 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. 

“Good. Just do what feels right to you. You want to shave? That’s okay. You don’t want to shave? That’s okay, too.” 

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Yes, choosing Chris was definitely the right choice. 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Chris smiles at you and your stomach hurts a bit. 

You stay quiet for a while. Chris’ words ringing in your ears. 

“Are you free next weekend?” 

Chris nods. “Yep. Wanna hang out?” 

Your gaze falls on your lap, where you’re nervously toying with your fingers. 

“I was thinking… maybe we could do it then.” 

“Ah.” 

He wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. Not that he’s disappointed of course. 

“Okay, sure. No problem,” he says after a while, after he’s shook the thought off his head before his brain could short circuit. 

“Alright. Is Friday okay?”

It feels so contractual for some way, and part of you doesn’t like that, but there’s the part of you that can’t wait to experience this with Chris that’s guiding you right now. 

“Friday sounds good.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

After a few awkward seconds spent looking nervously at each other, you break the ice. 

“D’you wanna watch something? I can make popcorn.” 

“Shall we rewatch Lord of the Rings?” 

“You know me so well.” 

—

It was supposed to happen on Friday, your first sexual encounter with Chris. 

And yet here you are, twenty four hours after you had The Talk™️, unable to stop thinking about how bad you want to jump him. Thankfully, there are the guys around since you’re having dinner all together, and that’s the only thing that’s stopping you. 

Chris is wearing a tank top and his usual grey sweats and there’s literal foam at the corners of your mouth, like a rabid dog. You feel like there isn’t an ounce of shame in your body right now. And he’s just over there, sat on the couch, being a nerd with Felix as they talk about the following event on their new favorite game they play together. Completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts running back and forth in your head, he is. Maybe it’s better this way. 

But then the boys start to leave. Seungmin has to work early in the morning, and Minho has his three cats to feed. One by one, everyone leaves. Except you. And Chris, since it’s his place. 

You’re helping him clean out his living room, putting away all that’s left on the table, putting bowls and cutlery in the dishwasher, looking at him with the corner of your eye, lingering a bit too much. 

This is sooo not good for your crush… At this point, you’re never getting over him. 

“You alright?”

Chris’ voice startles you. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He mindlessly places his hand on your hip and the horny alarm goes off inside your brain. It’s just a simple touch, something Chris has done thousands of times because he’s just a touchy guy who loves skinship, but right now, with the awareness of what’s going to happen between the two of you, it’s like it’s entirely different. At least, your body reacts to it as if it were different. 

“It’s okay. Was just thinking.” 

“About?” 

It would be very inappropriate to tell him how bad you want to pull down his sweats right now and… do what, exactly? You’ve never even seen a man naked in real life, what makes you think you’ll be able to please Chris? Maybe he could teach you, though… 

“Just stuff.” 

“Alright, be mysterious, then,” he giggles as he carries the last two empty glasses to the kitchen. 

If there’s anyone who can teach you, though, that’s Chris. A board pops up inside your brain, divided into two columns — pros and cons of asking Chris to teach you how to give pleasure to someone who has a dick. You can’t think of any cons when he’s dressed like that. Gosh, you are no better than a man, aren’t you?

“Can I suck you off?”

The glasses Chris was holding don’t make it to the dishwasher, because he drops them as soon as he registers what you’ve just asked him, and they crash to the ground with a loud noise, smashing into small pieces that end up everywhere. 

“What— fuck!”

“Oh my god, Chris! Wait, no, don’t move, you’re gonna end up cutting yourself. I’ll clean this up.”

Not the reaction you were hoping for, but what did you expect? Of course he’s surprised, considering your proposal literally came out of nowhere. You look over at him with the corner of your eye and catch him just standing there, pressed against the counter, the tips of his ears crimson red. He’s cute when he’s flustered. 

“You should really stop walking around barefooted,” you comment with a chuckle as you throw the smashed glass pieces into the trash can, making sure there isn’t any more lying around. 

“Yeah, you’re… right,” Chris scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed because your question is still hanging on somewhere in the air and none of you have addressed it yet. He decides to be courageous. “So. Uh. That. That came out of nowhere.”

You know what he’s talking about. 

“Uh. Yeah. Kinda.” Not really. “I just— I was thinking. It’s probably going to be a lot if we do everything on Friday, right?”

You can’t tell him his plain and boring outfit is actually driving you crazy since the moment you’ve walked into his house. You blame it on your ovulation for being so horny. Or maybe it’s all Chris. Who knows. 

“Oh— yeah. Yeah, sure. You do have a point. Um. Are you sure you wanna do it right now?” 

“Positive,” you crack a smile. “Unless you don’t wanna— that’s fine if you don’t—”

“No, no! I was just making sure you don’t feel like you have to do it, you know.”

“I want to do this. I want you to teach me.” 

Blood rushes south in Chris’ body. A timid bulge is now showing up on the front of Chris’ sweats. He shouldn’t be this horny over his best friend wanting to suck his dick. But you’re not only his best friend, are you? Technically, you are, but Chris has been crushing on you for the longest time now, so his reaction is kind of understandable. 

Plus, it’s so sexy to hear you admit you want him to teach you all this dirty stuff. 

That’s how you end up in Chris’ living room, on his couch, now shy and unsure how to start it. It’s much more complicated when you aren’t a couple but just two idiot best friends, you have to admit it. 

“So, uhm. How… how do I start?” 

“Do you want to make out a little bit first? You know, to ease the tension…”

That’s probably a good idea. That actually sounds like the greatest idea. Until you realize you’ve never kissed Chris. That can’t be awkward, though, right? Of course it’s gonna be awkward, a silly voice inside of your brain warns you, he’s your best friend! 

But you decide to mute that silly voice and just focus on Chris. There’s no time to rethink this, not when you’re so close to each other’s faces already. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” 

“Alright.”

Okay. The great news is that kissing Chris doesn’t feel awkward at all. The bad news is that kissing Chris doesn’t feel awkward at all. Not in the slightest. 

His lips are on yours and it feels like they’ve always been. Like you just stopped kissing him three seconds ago and now you’re back at it. Like you’ve done this a million other times before, when you’ve just kissed him once during spin the bottle. 

It’s different now. Now there’s an indecent proposal weighting on you both and much more tongue. And there’s also goosebumps all over your arms and legs and wetness pooling inside of your underwear. 

You feel Chris’ fingers intertwine with yours. And then he’s shamelessly moving your hand until it ends on top of his crotch, right where he’s rock hard. Oh god. You’re absolutely sure you’re going to melt when you squeeze him over the clothes and Chris lets out a breathy moan.

You pull away from each other and rest your forehead on Chris’.

“I don’t know what to do…” you confess, because it’s true — you have no idea what’s supposed to happen next. 

“You can do pretty much whatever you want,” Chris says. “You can touch it over the clothes just like you’re doing, there isn’t a right way to do this.” 

It makes you feel only slightly better. 

“Well, but what do you want me to do?”

Chris looks at you with dark eyes, pupils nearly fully blown. His face and ears, though, are still blushing. It’s a cute coincidence. You love him. You love him so much. 

“Um. Well. It’s— you can just— like this,” he moves your hand together with his, up and down, slowly stroking him over the thick layer of his sweats. “I like the teasing. Just a bit, though.” 

“Like this?”

“Yeah… yeah that’s good. Feels so good.” 

Chris tosses his head back, slouching on the couch and spreading his legs to let you touch him more comfortably. It feels good — you’re touching his dick and it feels so good, better than every other time someone has done this to him. 

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of Chris’ pretty face — nose scrunched in pleasure and lower lip caught between his teeth. It’s a pretty great reaction, considering you’re not really doing much. Maybe he will like it if you touched him some more? More directly, maybe?

You don’t warn him when you slip your hand inside his boxers, smirk satisfied when he lets out a choked moan. He opens his eyes to look at you, mouth hanging open as he watches your hand disappearing inside his underwear.

He’s hard and hot in your hand. And his skin is smooth and soft, in deep contrast with how hard he is. He throbs in your grip.

“Oh my—”

Only then you realize that you have no clue what to do next. Well, that’s not completely true. You’ve watched porn and read articles, so you know what you’re supposed to do. But it’s different now, because you have never done this before and you’re scared to fuck up and that he won’t like it. 

“I. Um. I don't know what to do?”

Chris smiles at you. He strokes your arm to comfort you. 

“It’s okay. Just try to move your hand the way you did before. Up and down. Oh yeah— yeah, that’s right— feels so good.” 

His arm swirls around your waist to pull you closer, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you stroke him nice and slow, enjoying the warmth of his skin against your palm. He sighs and grunts as you bring him pleasure. 

“Just— a bit tighter. Now— now try to swipe the tip with your thumb— Yeah, like that. That’s so good oh my—”

Only then it occurs to you that you still haven’t seen him naked. 

“Can I… I mean— can I pull your pants down?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

He helps you, hooking his own fingers in the hem of his boxers and sweats, dragging them past the curve of his ass and halfway down his thighs. His cock slaps on his abdomen with a thud, hard and thick. Your face heats up even more when you take in the sight of Chris’ member. It looks incredibly hot and aesthetically pleasing, not ugly like some of the dicks you’ve seen in porn.

He jolts when you wrap your hand around him again, startled and embarrassed he’s now fully exposed. He leaves tiny kisses on your shoulder as you stroke him. 

“Can I try sucking you off now?” 

He wails, sinking his teeth in your shoulder. By the way his cock throbs in your hand, you assume he liked your straightforwardness.

“Oh god. Yeah. Please.” 

He’s cute when he’s so flustered, but you can see it in his eyes that he wants it just as much as you do. 

“Uh. How do I— I mean. How do you want me?” 

God, Chris thinks he’s about to pass out. No no, he’s about to die. It’d be super weird, tho, wouldn’t it? To die on his couch, half naked and with his dick hard. He doesn’t want to become a ghost with an erection, that would be weird as fuck. Maybe other ghosts would even make fun of him. 

Why the fuck is he thinking about ghosts when you’re kneeling on his couch with his dick in your hand, asking him to let you suck him off? He’s just a fucking loser. 

“Um. I think— I think it’d be more comfortable if you were, you know, on your knees, maybe?” 

And, being the gentleman he is, even worries about your discomfort and hands you a soft pillow to put under your knees so that they don’t meet the hard floor when you do lower yourself in front of him. 

“Tell me what to do. Teach me.” 

Chris is way too far gone to think straight. 

Not only you’re knelt between his legs, beautiful as ever, especially when you’re looking at him with those eyes. Not only that — you’re also asking him to be your first, pleading him to teach you how to be the cause of his pleasure. That thought alone would be enough to make him cum right on the spot. 

Chris sighs, content, when your hands caress his inner thighs, when your lips start to kiss his tummy, your nose brushing the hair of his happy trail softly. 

Yeah no, he’s definitely going to pass out. 

“Just— use your hand. Like you did before. Yeah, like that,” he gasps when you start moving your hand up and down, “that feels so good. Can you— can you— um. Spit on your hand.” 

You look at him confused. 

“To get it wet, y’know.”

You don’t know, but trust him with whatever he says. After all, who knows better how to pleasure him than Chris himself? A bit uncertainly, you do spit on your palm, and immediately notice a difference when you go back to stroking him. 

Chris looks down at you, bites his lips so that unnecessary words won’t accidentally slip out. You’re so focused on giving him pleasure that you don’t realize how you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. 

“Now?”

“Oh. Okay, um. Now try to take it in your mouth. Don’t force yourself— just the tip is fine for now— oh shit.” 

Chris curses loudly when you take him in your mouth for the first time, tilts his head back and gasps when you suckle on his tip. Then, he forces himself to look at you. He has a feeling that he won’t be able to last long — maybe he won’t last at all. Of course he’s had his dick sucked before, but it’s different now, because it’s you, on your knees in the middle of his living room. That’s a sight he’d never thought he would witness.

His breathing becomes short and quick as you suckle on the tip of his cock, your fingers wrapped around the rest of his length. It’s clear that you’ve never done this before, and that’s exactly what’s driving Chris crazy, especially when you look at him with those eyes while your mouth is full of him. He stretches his hand to run his fingers through your hair, thumb brushing your scalp with delicacy. 

“You’re making me feel so good,” he breathes, fisting a pillow until his knuckles turn white. “Shiiit, I won’t last. Just try— try bobbing your head a little? That’s— oh. Oh, that’s it. That’s it.” 

Of course you’re not able to take much of him in your mouth, and you’re nowhere near being a pro at it, but it’s enough. Your mouth is warm and wet and your cheeks are so red — Chris think he’s gonna burst into flames any second now. 

You have a feeling he’s not telling you what he really likes fearing he’ll make you uncomfortable. Maybe you should be a little bit bolder. You pull back, and Chris is about to ask what’s wrong, if he’s made you uncomfortable somehow, when you take his breath away by running your tongue along the underside of his cock before taking him back inside your mouth. 

It feels as if Chris’ soul has left his body. It takes him off guard. His toes start to curl, his head’s spinning violently. 

“Oh. Pull off. Baby, I’m— I’m gonna cum. Baby. Baby.” 

You don’t pull off. Instead, you moan around him at the pet name. He’s never called you that before.

Chris comes with a choked sound, abs and whole body contracting and spasming as he empties himself in your mouth. You swallow it, surprising both Chris and yourself. It tastes… weird. You’re not sure you like it. But it was definitely worth it, since this way you got to see Chris’ orgasm face and know what he sounds like, and it’s an experience worth dying for. He drapes his arm over his face as he takes some time to regain his regular breathing. 

“Come here. Come here.”

He helps you off your knees, slides his pants back up and pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you rest your head on his chest. You can feel his heart racing in his chest, and you snuggle closer. He kisses the top of your head lovingly.

“Was I good?” 

“Good? You— it was amazing.”

“Really?” You pull back to look at him. He’s not lying. 

“Mhmh,” he holds you tighter. Maybe it’s a bit too intimate, but giving the situation neither of you seems to mind it. “It was really, really good.” 

You stay like that for a little while. Your cheeks heat up at the thought that you can still taste Chris in your mouth, a bit salty and bitter at the same time. You’re not sure you can ever move on from sucking Chris’ dick. God, what are you even gonna do after he fucks you?

“C’mere. Lemme give you a kiss, yeah?” 

He’s barely able to press his lips on yours when the doorbell of Chris’ apartment rings, startling the both of you. 

“What the fu— who the hell is it at this time?” 

It’s a little over midnight. It’s a bit odd. You shrug, kind of mad that you got interrupted right when Chris was kissing you, but also worried. You hop off Chris’ lap, and he fixes himself quickly before heading to open the door. 

Felix. 

“Hey, sorry mate, I just left my phone here and—”

Felix seems surprised that you’re still at Chris’. The two of you are red in the face and look suspicious. 

“Did I… interrupt something?” He asks, eyebrows raised and curious eyes scanning both you and Chris looking for clues. “You look… I dunno. Weird.”

“No!” Chris quickly says, and Felix looks even more suspicious, narrowing his eyes at the two of you. “I was just— you know, about to drive Y/N home. It’s pretty late.”

You know it’s just an excuse Chris came up with and that he’s not actually serious. You know it, but Felix doesn’t. 

“Aw, no problem. I can drive her home since I’m already here. Don’t you have to wake up early in the morning?” 

You look at Chris, Chris looks at you. Felix looks confused. 

“Uh, yeah. But really, it’s no problem, I can drive her home.”

“Nah, it’s alright, mate. I’m going home anyways, it’s no big deal. You should probably sleep, you look tired, mate.” 

Uh. This is awkward. 

— 

You’re in the driver’s seat of Felix’s car when your phone vibrates with two new texts. It’s Chris. 

chris ♡: btw i didnt want u to leave so soon 🥲

chris ♡: felix is such a cockblock omg

And then one more. 

chris ♡: btw i loved what we did… kinda blew my mind 

you: just ur mind??? 👀

chris ♡: *gasp*

you: lol 

you: but im happy that u liked me sucking ur dick :)

chris ♡: stop!!! 🫣 im shy!!!

you: yeah shy lol 

you: but yeah i kinda didn’t want to leave either 🥹

chris ♡: maybe next time we could hang out just the two of us haha 👀

you: u say that as if we never hang out wtf

chris ♡: yeah but like 

chris ♡: i kinda want to yk…

chris ♡: reciprocate 🫣

you: oh!!!

chris ♡: did i just make things super weird? haha

you: no no 

you: ur good

you: its just

you: wasn’t expecting that 

chris ♡: is that a yes or…

chris ♡: haha

you: yeah ofc

you: its a yes :)

chris ♡: :) 

you: i can’t believe we r talking about this while im in felix’s car lol 

chris ♡: 💀

chris ♡: its a bit funny tho he was so clueless haha

you: lmao he has no idea what he’s almost walked in to 

chris ♡: lol 

chris ♡: u home yet?? 

you: we r almost there 

chris ♡: good :) 

you: why??

chris ♡: dunno, thought we could play genshin for a bit?

chris ♡: or r u tired?

You smile to yourself, and you suddenly can’t remember anymore what you were so scared of. He’s still the same Chris, you’re still the same you — you sucked his dick, so what? He’s the same loser of your best friend — trapped inside an insanely hot body, yes, but still your goofy Chris. 

you: i just got home! 

you: lemme change and i’ll log in asap :)

chris ♡: :) <3

—

It’s like nothing has happened between you and Chris. 

You see him again on Tuesday morning over breakfast, Jisung and Changbin are also there and it’s not awkward, not even when they leave to go to work and there’s only you and Chris left at the coffee shop. You hang out like you usually do and Chris tells you about the new character he finally unlocked in the game he’s currently obsessed with, and you show him a picture of that really cute plushie you wanted to get but was sold out at the store you went to. You finish your coffee and it’s all good, you don’t act like you sucked his dick. 

The fact that neither of you could stop thinking about it, though, is a whole other story. 

“I’ve got to go to work in a bit, but maybe we can hang out tonight?”

“You mean hang out or… you know, hang out?” 

Chris drops his phone onto the table. He swears under his breath, but is relieved to find out the screen isn’t cracked. 

“I’m just kidding,” you laugh, “you should see your face.”

“I hate you.”

“You looooove me.”

“No I don’t,” he raises his middle finger at you. 

“Oh, fuck off!” You laugh, and he bursts into a laugh too. 

You talk about video games, the book you’re currently reading, the series he’s watching. You talk and talk and talk until you both lose the notion of time. 

“It’s not weird, is it?” You blurt out all of a sudden, taking him off guard. 

“What’s not weird?” 

“That I… uhm… sucked you off the other day,” you lower your voice so that only Chris can hear you. 

His face turns red violently. 

“Now you’re making it weird!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because!” 

“Says the one who literally sexted me when I was in the car with Felix!” 

Chris’s eyes widen.

“I did not sext you,” he argues. “I was just being a gentleman. I was making a proposal.” 

“A very indecent one,” you smirk. “Alright, Mr. Sexter, time for me to go to work.”

“Do not call me that!” He whines. 

You chuckle. 

“Alright, I’ve teased you enough. Dinner at mine? There’s this new place that opened a few weeks ago and I really want to try it. Minho said they make the best jiaozi in the world.” 

Chris nods. 

“Alright.”

— 

At seven p.m. he’s in front of your house, at nine p.m. you’ve just finished eating and at ten p.m. he’s between your legs, only half undressed. Ready to have my dessert, he had joked, and you both had cringed after. 

And now here he is, sweet Bambi eyes looking straight into yours, his thumbs hooked in the loops of your jeans. You’re nervous, but in a good way. 

“Can I?”

You bite your lip, nod slowly. Chan lets out a shaky breath as he fully realises he’s about to pull your pants down and see you naked. It should be at least a little weird, right? Except it isn’t to Chan — he feels incredibly excited, more than he’s ever been with anyone else before. 

“Alright.” 

You arch your back, lift your body so that he can easily pull your jeans down and past the curve of your ass. He’s seen you in a swimsuit, so it’s not that big of a deal to find yourself in your underwear in front of him. 

It is, however, a big deal, when he hooks his thumbs in the hem of your panties. You suck in a breath when he locks eyes with yours and slowly drags the piece of cotton down your trembling thighs. 

“Oh my God—” you squeak, covering your red face with both of your hands, suddenly very aware of the situation you’re in. 

“Hey. Relax,” Chan says, “it’s just me.” 

Yeah, that’s kind of the whole point. 

You squeak again when you feel his hand on your knee, his thumb caressing your skin. 

“We don’t have to do this.” 

“Huh?”

Your eyes, wide open and full of emotion, stare right into his, comforting and warm as always. You feel like a ship through the most thunderous storm — Chris your lighthouse, your piece of peace.

“It’s okay if you changed your mind. We don’t have to go further.” 

You shake your head. 

“I didn’t change my mind… it’s just— ‘m nervous,” you smile at him. “You’re the first to ever see me naked.”

A shiver runs down Chris’ spine. God. He is the first. He is the first. How is he supposed to recover from the realization that he is the first man to ever strip you down naked and touch you and eat you out? Not to mention that you want him to fuck you. Maybe he shouldn’t be so turned on by this…

“You still want me to be?”

Your eyes widen. Is he really asking you that? 

Then you realize he doesn’t know about your big, fat crush on him, and that you once literally dried the battery of your clit sucker to the thought of him after he’d showed up to your place with a new haircut. You want him. You’ve wanted him. You don’t think there’s another galaxy, another universe, in which you’ll never want Chris in any possible way you’ll get to have him. 

“Yes. I trust you.”

He finally makes eye contact with your intimate parts, sucks in a breath at the sight. He feels like he is the virgin right now. He looks at you. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring at him, heart beating so fast you think it’s only a matter of time before it leaps out of your chest. What if he doesn’t like you? Physically, you mean. Maybe you should’ve worn some other kind of underwear, something sexier. Maybe he doesn’t think you’re attractive, like, at all. 

You’re forcefully pushed out your own self-sabotaging train of thought by Chris himself, who licks a long stripe all along your cunt, before letting a mouthful of spit land right where your clit is. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp out, holding your breath. 

That’s even better than your fucking toy. Chris’ tongue is wet, and hot, and it’s his tongue that’s licking you right between your legs and you think you’re actually about to pass out. 

“Are you alright?”

You nod. “I’m fantastic.”

Chris kisses your pussy all over, trying to figure out where the magic spot is. When you bite your lip and whimper, he knows he’s found it. He flicks it with his tongue once, twice, three times, and your body falls limp on the bed as you bathe in the feeling of Chris on you. 

He moans as he wraps his plump and wet lips around your clit and starts sucking, toying with it using his tongue, all whilst looking at you, completely at his mercy. He uses his two fingers to spread you open for him, his mouth never detaching from your clit as he suckles on it, trying to focus on every single one of your micro reactions to what he’s doing. 

You look down at him, where he’s eating you out into tomorrow, and the realization that it’s your best friend and your all time crush lying between your legs right now, makes you want him even more than you already do. However, you don’t want to rush it and ruin it all by having sex with Chris today, even though you feel ready and want him. But, selfishly, you don’t want any of this to end so soon. 

Chris takes your hand, intertwines your fingers, then guides it into his already disheveled hair. You tug at it when his tongue runs all over your cunt once more. His strong, buff arms keep you pinned down the mattress when you squirm a little too much. 

“Channie…”

He fucking grunts. 

He grunts, munching at your pussy, as he pins you down using just one hand on your stomach, his other hand ending up between your legs. His fingers form a v shape, spreading you out for him, as he sucks on your clit as if his life depended on it. His eyes flutter shut as he feels you coming onto his tongue. 

Apart from you, the four walls of your bedroom and a quite large collection of plushies and figurines displayed about everywhere in your room, no one has ever heard the sounds you make as you come. Chris feels blessed as his ears take in the little, quiet yet desperate whimpers that escapes your lips as your pussy throbs onto his tongue as you come. You pull his hair as you do, and Chris moans against your pussy. Your grip on his hair loosens, and Chan laps up at your orgasm, before emerging from your thighs. Your stomach does a teeny tiny backflip at the sight of his chin glistening with your wetness, evident proof that this is not one of your many wet dreams about your best friend, no — this is all true. 

“How are you feeling?” Chris asks sweetly, looking at you whilst caressing your thigh gently. 

“Feels like I’m floating,” you giggle. 

Chris wipes the residual of your cum off his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, then drops next to you. He’s painfully hard, but won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to pressure you, but he’s been grinding on the bed the entire time and he’d nearly busted when he’d found out how you taste. 

“How was it?”

You roll onto your side to look at him. Your lower half feels just a little bit cold considering you’re only naked from the waist down. 

“Amazing. I didn’t know it could feel this good,” you sigh. “Even better than my toy,” you think out loud.

Okay, maybe that’s TMI… Of course, your little slip-up doesn’t go unnoticed by Chris, whose brows raise in surprise. 

“You what now?” Surprised. “Nah, nah, nah, don’t hide from me. You have a toy? Like— a sex toy?” 

“Shut uuuuup,” you whine. “You promised you’d never judge meeee.”

Chris chuckles. 

“But I’m not judging you, I’m just curious. Didn’t know you had a toy. Perhaps is it a giant dildo?” 

“I hate you,” you grumble. 

“I’m kidding. What is it, though? I really am curious.”

You sigh, accepting defeat. You know your best friend, and he won’t drop the topic anytime soon until you reveal the juicy details. “It’s a clit sucker.”

Chris’ cock throbs, desperate for attention. The thought of you, all pretty and alone in your big bed, using a toy on you to get off, is making his brain go absolutely crazy. He wants to use it on you. He wants to hold the toy and press it on your clit and make you cum like that. He wants to hear those pretty moans once again as you come for him. 

“Oh wow. Better than a clit sucker, huh? That’s a new compliment,” he says. “Can I see it?” 

You furrow your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Just wanna know who my rival is.” 

“Alright.”

Chris’ arch nemesis lies in the second drawer of your nightstand, hidden among your socks. It’s small and discreet, easy to hide, but it does its job amazingly and you would be absolutely unbearable without it, given that the little plastic angel protects your sanity. 

“Here’s the reason why my sanity hasn’t collapsed yet,” you announce, holding the toy for Chris to see, “a.k.a. your rival, I guess.”

Chan looks at the small object with curiosity in his eyes. He knows how it’s supposed to work, but, admittedly, it’s the first time he’s seen one in real life, so he has questions he wants answers to. 

“And how does this work?”

You press a small button on the back of the toy and it starts to vibrate weakly. There’s a tiny hole on the bottom, and Chris guesses that’s the part of the toy that’s supposed to end up on your clit. 

“Pressing the button it increases the sucking motion of the toy. It’s really great. There are days in which I’m more sensitive and even the weakest mode does the trick.” 

Chris watches the tiny silicone toy in awe. He wonders how many times you’ve used it, in which positions, and what did you fantasised about whilst using it. He feels like the biggest perv for having such impure thoughts about his best friend, who is not as innocent as he thought. 

“Can I say something? Feel free to tell me to shut up if it makes you totally uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chris’ fingers come to wrap around the toy, feeling the low buzzing sensation on his own skin. “Is it weird that I really want to see you while you’re using it?”

Your whole neck and face heat up at Chris’ confession. 

“I really wanna see how you get off…”

Chris, without even realising it, had started palming his cock over the thickness of his sweats. When your gaze falls to his lap, you become aware of the massive tent between Chris’ legs. Is it concerning that you feel the urge to suck him off? 

“I have an idea…” you mumble, unable to stop thinking about how good Chris felt in your mouth the other day, as you tried your best to take him down your throat. Big and hot and heavy just for you…

“I’m all ears.”

“We can get off at the same time?” You suggest. “I’ll show you what works for me and you’ll show me what works for you.”

Chris nods, agreeing to your very interesting proposal. “Sounds perfect…” he hooks his fingers in the waistband of his sweats and boxers. “But I gotta warn you, I probably won’t last.” 

“It’s okay. I’m usually very sensitive after I’ve just cum, so it probably won’t take me long either.”

Chris smiles, dragging his sweats and underwear down past the curve of his ass and his balls. His cock springs free, slapping on his tummy with a heavy thud. There’s dark, curly hair at the base, a bit longer than it was the last time you’d seen his dick, plus his balls look really full and heavy and the sight makes your mouth water. Chris wraps his own fingers around his length, an action that comes natural to him, and you try to focus on his every movement, so that the next time you touch him you’ll be better. 

After turning the toy on, you realize you’ve missed an important step. You turn it off again, about to roll onto your side to open the drawer once again, but Chris’ voice interrupts you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Lube. I don’t really like it when it’s dry. Too much friction.” 

“Just give it to me.”

Chris takes the toy in his hand, brings it close to his mouth. The next thing you know, he’s letting a generous amount of spit fall right onto the hole of the toy.

You’ve read about how saliva is actually the worst thing you could use to replace lube, but you suppose it wont make much of a difference if you’re only planning to use it on an external toy that doesn’t involve penetration of any kind, so you figure it’s alright. 

When his hand comes between your legs, toy pressed on your clit, you shiver, trembling like a leaf. 

“You like it like that?” He rhetorically asks, because he’s not oblivious to the way your eyes roll in the back of your head at the contact the toy makes with your pussy. 

“I guess you do.” Cocky, sarcastic. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss out a laugh. 

“Oh, you will. Soon, baby, I promise,” he smirks. 

His eyes staring into yours, tender, soft, despite what he’s saying and what he’s doing. You’re making a mess on the sheets. He’s even more beautiful right now, hair all messy, cheeks flushed, forehead shining with sweat… how is that even possible? 

He slips his strong arm under your neck, pulls you closer. Your faces only a couple of inches apart. You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him and melt into that kiss. You want to kiss him so bad. 

“Chris, I’m—,” you gasp out. I’m in love with you, you want to say. I’ve been pathetically in love with you for years, you stupid idiot! 

“Close already?” 

“Mhhm.” That would do. 

“Good. Cum, babygirl.” 

You hold onto him for dear life as you come with a cry, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving behind red marks on the pale flesh. It lasts seconds, it lasts hours. But never too much. 

“We… we were…” 

“Huh?”

“We were supposed to do it together, you idiot,” you sigh, as your legs finally stop shaking from an earth-shattering orgasm. 

“Are you that curious to see me jerking off?” He chuckles. 

You swat his chest. “You’re impossible.” 

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Look at me babygirl.” Then, his eyes move down, where he’s touching himself. 

Slowly, like someone who knows what he’s doing, with the expertise only he can have with his body. His cock looks beautiful, flushed pink at the tip, a gracious bead of precum threatening to slip and wet his tummy. Would it be weird if you… gosh, you want to taste him so bad. 

His movements on his cock are swifter now, a few grunts come out of his throat. 

“You like watching me?” 

“Mhhm…”

It’s hot. Incredibly so. 

“What are you thinking of?” The question slips past your mouth before you can stop it. 

He smirks, bites his lip. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking of?” You nod. “I’m thinking of your lips, babygirl,” he swipes your lower lip with his thumb, eyes boring into yours. “How sweet they are… how beautiful they looked the other day, wrapped around my cock. How you swallowed my cum like a good girl…” 

It makes you shiver, the way he’s so… direct with words. Dirty. Explicit. But how can you blame him when you’re thinking about the same stuff? 

“I can do it again if you want…”

He smiles, bites his lip. 

“You wanna suck my cock again?” A smirk.

“Mhhm…”

“Go on, then, babygirl. Take me in your sweet mouth.” 

— 

On Friday, the designated day for your first time, you get your period. Right moments before Chris rings your doorbell. Huh, what a timing. 

“We can’t.” 

Is the first and only thing you say as soon as you open the door, even though he knows the code and could’ve let himself in. He looks at you, a puzzled expression on his face. 

“We can’t what?”

“Have sex,” you say with a huff. “I got my period, like, ten minutes ago.”

He looks at you, trying to decipher if you’ve just lied to him because you don’t want to sleep with him anymore or if you’re serious. In the end, he opts for the second scenario, because you’re visibly irritated. 

“It’s alright,” he says, closing the door behind his buff figure. “We can still hang out. D’you want me to grab some chocolate at the convenience store?”

“You do know that not all the people who menstruate love chocolate when they’re on their period, right?” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah, but you do. So? Chocolate?”

“…. yes, please.”

Everything’s easy with Chris. It’s always been this way. 

—

And like the most beautiful things one can experience in life, it happens spontaneously, your first time. No plan, no designated day, no matching panties and bra set, no nothing. Just you and him and a nice day out in the hot spring sun. Chris’ hand on your thigh had you trembling like a leaf, even if he was just telling a joke a little too emphatically. 

You then realised just how much you love him, and decided that it was the perfect moment. That you needed him. You told him so, he nearly choked on his water, but he, too, thought it was the perfect moment. 

Which brings you here. In your bedroom, naked with Chris between your legs for a second time, just with different intentions this time. 

Chris looks you in the eye, trying to catch even just a glimpse of uncertainty, of regret, and he’s ready to stop. But he finds none. You’re sure. And it should probably be weird, right?, even just a little, but it’s not. It’s not weird that he’s between your legs, naked, ready to take your virginity like you asked him to. It should be weird, but it’s not. 

“Are you sure you’re sure?” 

“For the millionth time, Chris, yes. I am sure.” 

“Just making sure,” he shrugs. “Tell me if it hurts, or if you’re uncomfortable or whatever, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

He grips himself steadily, firmly, checking for the third time that the condom’s on properly. Then, you feel his tip prodding at your slit, ready to enter you any second now. 

You feel his hot breath on your mouth, his nose gently caressing yours, his fingers in your hair as he first presses himself inside of you. It knocks the air out of your lungs. 

It’s true, it’s happening. 

“Hurts?” He asks, concerned. 

“No, not at all,” you reassure him. “Feels perfect.” 

He enters you ever so slowly, making sure not to overwhelm you with his presence in your tightness. He bottoms out, finally, and you feel complete. It feels perfect, he feels perfect inside of you. 

He pulls out and you whimper at the loss. You miss him instantly. 

And he obliges at your unexpressed plea, immediately entering you once again. This time, an unexpected pain washes all over your lower region, it feels as if you pulled a muscle or something. Chris notices something’s up from the way you scrunch your nose and hiss.

“Did I hurt you?”

He’s so sweet. 

“I’m okay,” cupping his cheek. “It feels weird. But I don’t want to stop.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhhm.”

He pushes inside even more slowly than before, not missing one of your reactions and micro expressions. He’s so damn close and at the same time it’s not enough. You can feel him, touch him, breathe him, but you still want more. 

“More… please.” 

He begins to move, propped on his elbows which are resting on each side of your face. It knocks the air out of your chest for a good couple of seconds, but it’s the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced so far, and you’re excited for more. You want to keep making love to Chris for ever. 

You inadvertently clench around his length and he hisses. 

“Sorry.”

“You… you have no idea how you feel wrapped around me, babygirl.” 

It makes your heart flutter. 

“And you have no idea how you feel inside of me… I feel so… full.”

He twitches, and you feel it. 

“You can’t say things like that to me,” he admonishes, but you know he’s not being serious. 

“Why not?”

“Because… I’m trying so fucking hard not to bust a nut this fucking second,” he admits. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He moves inside of you, thrusting and pulling back and then thrusting again, gentle, never rough, even though a part of you wishes to make him lose control and let him do whatever he wants with you. Maybe… maybe another time, if you’re lucky. 

“Tell me… tell me what to do. Teach me.”

A shiver runs down Chris’ spine. 

“Dear god, babygirl,” he drops his face in the crook of your neck. “Fine. Okay. Alright. Just— hook your legs around mine, hm?”

You oblige. He feels even closer now. 

“Good girl,” he praises. “Now try to move your pelvis as if to meet my movements.” 

“Alright.”

“Yeah, like that… feels good, doesn’t it?” 

It feels even better than you thought it would. You still feel a bit sore, yes, but it’s much more pleasant now that you’ve grown accustomed to it. Plus, Chris is being so gentle and sweet… you could never regret asking him to be your first. 

“Can we… can we kiss?” You timidly ask. 

Chris smiles sweetly at you, and without providing an answer, he presses his lips onto yours in a chaste kiss that turns hot and indecent mere seconds later. He intertwines your fingers, asks you to pull his hair as he fucks you. 

“Feels nice?”

“Feels so good, Chris,” you moan, hips meeting his halfway. “Never thought it could feel like this.”

You wonder if it’ll ever be the same with other guys. Probably not, because you’ll never love someone as much as you love Chris. 

“Me neither.”

Chris gets more desperate now, but he’s still so desperately trying not to lose control. You wonder how it’d be like if he just gave in to his impulses. He hooks his arm under your leg, spreads you wider for him, and you sigh. It feels amazing. 

 “You’re amazing, babygirl,” he moans, sinking deeper into you. Deeper and deeper, making you feel every inch of his cock that’s hot and throbbing just for you. “Never want this to end.”

It makes your heart flutter, even though he’s probably just saying that because it’s just sex. Amazing, yeah, but just sex. 

He moves like he knows exactly what he’s doing, stimulating a certain spot inside of you; yet, it’s not enough to make you finish, and he knows it. “Spit,” he demands, albeit sweetly, his fingers close to your mouth. 

You obey, and his lubed up fingers immediately find your puffy clit that’s aching for some attention. It makes you cry out in pleasure. All your life, you’ve been constantly told how men are selfish in bed and they only care about their own pleasure and never the woman’s, but you knew Chris wasn’t like the others. It was obvious since the start. 

“Chris— I’m—”

He smirks, moving his skilled fingers faster. 

“Go on, babygirl. Finish on my cock. Cream it like the good girl you are,” he incites you, and who are you to deny him such pleasure?

You cum on his cock with a cry, feeling yourself pulsing and throbbing down there, as he continues to push inside of you looking for his own release. Finally, he empties himself inside the condom with a low grunt, then collapses on top of you. 

“You did so good, babygirl…” 

He rolls onto his back, dragging you together with him, your head now resting on his chest where you can feel his pounding heartbeat. 

“Was it okay? Did you like it?” He asks. 

You raise your head to look into his warm eyes. “It was perfect,” you say and your heart skips a beat, “thank you.” 

He kisses you, unexpectedly. 

You stay like that for minutes that feel like hours, hugging and kissing, forgetting there’s a world, a life outside of your bedroom. Until you’re brought back to reality by an unexpected thunder, anticipating a violent storm. 

“Shit, it’s really pouring down outside, isn’t it?”

“Mh… looks scary.” 

“Cup of tea and a movie?” He suggests. 

“Yeah, but shower first.”

When you sit on the bed, you hiss at the contact your lower half makes with the mattress, a very present soreness reminding you of what happened mere minutes before. There, on the bedsheets, a small pool of dried up blood. He looks between his legs, the condom is reddish. 

“Shit… did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, babygirl.” 

You shake your head as a no. “No, no, you didn’t,” you smile at him. “You were perfect.”

It’s a mystery how you ended up in the shower together with Chris, but you can’t complain about that, especially with how sweet he acts towards you. You look at him as if he hung the moon and all the man did was take your virginity. And you can’t complain either when, just an hour later, you’re cuddling on the couch, your comfort movie playing softly in the background as you share your favorite and warmest blanket. 

It would be the perfect moment for a love confession, but you’re too much of a coward for that. 

—

You don’t like the way she’s looking at Chris. Like she’s trying to mark her territory, like she’s hunting and your dear best friend is her target prey, grabbing his arm with her perfect blue eyes, flawless skin and high-pitched laughter. No, no, you don’t like it in the slightest. Now, Chris is totally oblivious that you’re dying of jealousy, of course, so he’s reciprocating the girl’s explicit attentions. It makes you sick. 

Chris… your Chris… with someone else. You need air, you need to breathe. 

From the other side of the room, Chris notices something’s up. You look uncomfortable, shifting in your seat, not making eye contact with any of your friends, biting at your fingernails… Something happened, he’s sure of that, but… what exactly? Did someone say something? Are you okay? He needs to know. 

“You okay?” 

It startles you, his voice. You zoned out completely, and didn’t notice he’d excused himself to the girl and immediately came to check on you. 

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“You suck ass at lying, and you know that,” he remarks. “Now, what happened?” 

“I’m okay, Chan, just go back talking to that girl.”

Chan? You never call him Chan. Chris, Chrissy when you want to tease him, but never Chan. 

“Why would I go talk to her when you’re here and you look uncomfortable?” 

“I’ve been here the whole night and you didn’t care.” 

Chris frowns. 

“That’s not true. I just went to grab something to drink and Scarlett came up to talk to me.” 

“Scarlett.” You huff. 

Now Chris is confused. Why exactly are you mad and why is it such a big deal that he was talking to that girl? 

“Yes, Scarlett,” he repeats, as confused as before. “Are you mad at me, did I do something?” 

You shrug. 

Yes and no. Chris is allowed to talk to anybody he wants, so why does it bother you so much? Because you’re in love with him, hello? And Scarlett is so… different than you. If Chan likes her, it means he could never like someone like you. Right? 

“Come with me,” Chris says, grabbing your hand and exiting the place. He doesn’t want to discuss this matter in front of his and your friends. It’s something that somehow feels private. “Now,” he starts once you’re all alone, “tell me what I did to make you mad.” 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” you give him the side-eye, sounding like a jealous girlfriend even to your own ears. “You begged me to go out and then spent half an hour talking to Scarlett,” you put emphasis on her name. 

He looks at you as if he had a whole different person in front of him. 

“Ignoring you? Wha— I— Ha! Ignoring you!” He’s in disbelief. “I just went to grab a drink!” 

“And talked to Scarlett for half an hour. You didn’t care that I was sitting all alone waiting for you to come back.” 

Have you gone crazy?, Chan thinks. 

“All alone? The guys are there! And your girlfriends, too!” 

“Yes, but I was waiting for you!” 

It makes Chris’ heart skip a beat or two. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it, even though he doesn’t know precisely what he did wrong. “Really, I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean to.” 

You seem to come to your senses, realizing that maybe you overstepped a boundary or something. 

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You have the right to do whatever you want, it’s just that I…” 

Stop it!, a voice inside your head screams. Stop right there! Are you crazy? You want to confess that you got jealous? And then what, maybe tell him that you’re in love with him? Stop! 

And all of a sudden, confessing your feelings seems the only right thing to do. 

“You…?” 

All the courage suddenly leaves your body, but the damage is kind of already done. 

“I got… jealous, I think.” 

“Jealous?” He repeats, heart fluttering inside his ribcage. 

“Hmmh.” 

“You’ve got no reason to be jealous,” he smiles at you. “You know you’re my favorite person in the whole world.” 

You miss his lips and the way they felt pressed on yours, mere nights before, when you were wrapped around him tightly, and he was inside of you. You miss that closeness, that intimacy. You want him desperately, and not just for sex. The good, the bad, the easy and the hard times. 

“Careful what you say, Chrissy,” you chuckle, “you might end up making me fall in love with you or something,” your joke hiding a bigger truth. 

His head snaps up, eyes bore into yours. 

“Would that be too bad?”

“Huh?” 

“If you fell in love with me. Would that be so horrible?” The world pauses. You freeze, heart pounding louder and louder in your ears. “Never mind,” he says after a while, your silence being too much for his hurt pride, for his shattered heart. 

Of course you could never love him, what was he thinking? 

He runs inside before you can even try to stop him. You run after him, but once you reach him he’s already sitting with the guys, and you do not want to make a scene in front of them or shout out a love confession in the middle of the club. You take your place next to Chris, and it’s obvious he’s avoiding you at this point. 

“Chris…” you tap him on the shoulder, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. He’s too embarrassed, you can tell by the tips of his ears that are flushed pink. “Chris…” 

You gather up all the courage in your body for what you’re about to do next. 

Shifting in your seat, you whisper in his ear. “It wouldn’t be horrible at all.” 

He whips his head to meet your eyes, see if you’re serious or if it’s another cruel joke. But no. The light in your eyes confirms that it’s true. He asks you silently, with his own eyes, if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. You grab his hand from under the table and smile at him as you nod. 

“Can we go outside? I need to kiss you real bad,” he whispers in your hair. 

—

“Open your wallets, ladies and gentlemen,” Minho says, cocky as ever, tilting his head in the direction of the closest window. “Ten bucks each, which means… one-hundred and twenty bucks total.” 

Someone protests, others groan in frustration, some of the boys try to argue that he wasn’t playing fair in the first place, because everybody knew the two idiots were in love with each other. 

“So much scene for ten bucks,” Minho huffs. “You’re just sore losers. The bet wasn’t if the two dummies outside were in love with each other or not. The point was whether they were going to kiss tonight or not. And I won.”

“How come does he always win?” Jeongin asks, confused. 

“Guys, look! Ew, that’s disgusting, they’re practically eating each other’s faces at this point!” Jisung comments. 

“Do you think they know we can see them?” 

“Of course not, pabo.” 

“I think they’re gonna fuck,” your girl friend blurts out. 

“Nah, they won’t.”

“Wanna bet?” Lee Minho says.

“Fuck you!” They all scream in unison. 

— 

You never want to stop kissing Chris, but you have to at some point, if you don’t want to die from asphyxia. Both his and your lips are al red and swollen from the kisses, his cheeks flushed pink and yours equally as hot. 

“Take me home,” you whisper on his mouth. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re not done with me yet,” you bite your lip. “You taught me how to have sex… now it’s time for you to teach me how to make love.” 

Chris thinks he’s about to melt. 

Holy shit. 

“Taxi!” He shouts. 

— 

♡

You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.

With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.

You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.

-

The room is totally spinning.

You are totally spinning.

You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.

You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.

They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.

"What?" you almost bark at them.

"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.

"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.

Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.

"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.

The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.

The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.

"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.

"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.

Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.

Shrugging, you make your way to your room.

Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.

One, two, three...

And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.

"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.

Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.

"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.

"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."

"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.

"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.

"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.

"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.

"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.

"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.

"Well, the six of us got some money together."

"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.

"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.

"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.

"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.

You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.

You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.

"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.

Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.

He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.

He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.

Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.

His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.

You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.

He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.

You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.

You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.

Hello,

my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.

I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.

Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.

"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.

A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.

My cutie!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.

"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.

"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.

You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.

"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.

You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.

You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.

"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.

Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.

It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?

Maybe even more important, why?

After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.

Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!

"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.

Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.

"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.

"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.

Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.

Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.

Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.

"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.

Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.

It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.

Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."

Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.

"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.

"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.

You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.

"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.

-

It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.

You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.

Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.

"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.

"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.

For some reason, you think he might be frowning.

"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."

The doll is quiet.

"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.

"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.

After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.

As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.

It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.

It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.

Maybe it was just in your mind.

Yeah, probably.

Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.

"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.

"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.

"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.

"Feeling territorial, are we?"

"N-no!" you blush instantly.

"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.

You sigh and make your way to your room too.

"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.

As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.

You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.

"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.

Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.

"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.

You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.

Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.

For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.

You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.

"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.

Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.

Oh no.

Your favorite shirt is gone.

You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.

Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.

You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.

"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"

"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."

"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.

"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.

Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.

You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.

Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.

"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.

He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.

"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.

It was only the beginning.

A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.

You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.

You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.

Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.

Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.

It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.

Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.

In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.

Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.

Seungmin.

Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.

After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.

Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.

"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.

"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.

"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.

You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?

Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.

He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.

"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.

His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.

His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.

You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.

You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.

You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.

"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.

You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.

Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.

This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.

You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.

You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.

"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.

"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.

"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.

You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.

"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.

Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.

"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.

You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.

There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.

With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.

"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.

"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.

After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.

Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.

You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.

All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.

It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.

Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.

You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.

A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.

Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.

For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.

You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.

You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.

And you were right.

Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.

You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.

He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.

He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.

Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.

The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.

I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.

"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.

A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.

Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.

He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.

Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.

He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.

Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.

He loves you.

So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.

He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.

-

Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.

With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.

You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.

"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.

You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.

Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.

He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.

His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.

"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.

"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.

You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.

"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.

"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.

"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.

"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."

"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.

"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."

"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.

"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.

"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.

"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.

"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.

He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.

Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.

You held him tighter, making him melt into you.

Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.

"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.

"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.

"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.

"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.

He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.

All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.

"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.

He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.

You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.

Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.

"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.

"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.

You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.

"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.

"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.

The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.

He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.

Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.

Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.

When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.

"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.

He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.

He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.

Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.

"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.

"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.

"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.

"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.

"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.

"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.

He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.

"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.

All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.

You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.

You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.

You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.

"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.

"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.

You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.

"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.

You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.

"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.

"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.

Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.

You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.

His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.

"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.

"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes." you say, breathless.

Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.

"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.

"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.

"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.

Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.

You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.

Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.

"What the fuck?!"

"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.

"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.

"I woke up-"

"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.

"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.

"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.

"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."

"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.

"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.

Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.

"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.

Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.

"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.

"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.

"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.

Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.

He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.

Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.

As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.

All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.

The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.

Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.

After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.

"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.

"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.

"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.

"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.

"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.

"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.

-

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.

He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.

"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.

"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.

"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.

You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.

You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.

Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.

"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.

You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.

You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.

"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.

It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.

Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.

You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.

You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.

You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.

"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.

Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.

Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.

"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.

He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.

"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.

"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.

"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.

Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.

He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.

You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.

When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.

"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.

Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.

"Let it." he begs.

"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.

"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"

"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.

"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"

"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.

"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.

"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.

"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.

"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"

"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."

"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.

"But-"

"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.

"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.

But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.

Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.

With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.

As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.

The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...

Clinging to her sweatshirt, both of your hoods up, you shrugged and hopped over a puddle, taking her with you. “Nope. He usually does, if he’s got work or something, but he disappeared. Didn’t even stop at the corner of Wattz and Fallon’s.”

Pouting, she gave you a glance, her glittery eyeshadow gleaming in the warm glow of the ancient street lights. “He always stops.”

Copying her face, you mumbled, “I know. He always stops.”

“Maybe,” she sang, swinging your arm around, skipping a few times, “He’s surprising you.”

A gentle roll of your eyes made her giggle. “Cute, but he’s not surprising me,” you said, looking up at the grey, almost black sky. “Something’s up.”

Yuna’s curious eyes followed yours, squinting at the abyss that lived above you. “Like what, has he been okay?”

“I think so,” you sighed, scouring the sky. Letting go of her, you spun around and walked backwards, eyes pointed up. “He would tell me, though. He’s always told me.”

Burying her hands in the pocket on her front, she asked, “Told you what?”

Furrowing your brows, you shook your head and turned around, hooking your arms together again. “Nothing. It’s nothing, he’s fine, he’ll call me.”

A gentle smile bled onto her cheeks. “He’ll call,” her voice lilted, a cutesy song, “He likes you.”

Groaning aloud, dramatically, you knocked into her side, nearly pushing her into the constant flood of water that flushed down the curbs of Jiangshi. “Let it go,” you muttered, “He said it once. We said it once.”

Yuna wiggled her brows, leaning into you, her lips almost grazing your cheek. “And you guys have been ignoring it since!” She jumped on her feet. “Get to it!”

Scoffing, you shot her a glare. “There is nothing to get to, Yuna. It’s… complicated.”

“How?” Bouncing her knees once, dragging her feet, she droned on, “You guys have known each other for so long, you’ve been friends for so long, you’ve both had feelings for so, so, so long, you should’ve never been just friends in the first place.”

“We’re just better this way,” you said quietly, looking back up into the clouds. 

She blinked at you, then tipped her chin backward. “What the hell are you looking at? It’s Jiangshi, it always looks the same. Dark, raining, miserable.” 

Tugging her closer to you, for warmth, for comfort, you averted your glare to the ground and shrugged loosely. “Nothing, just… looking for the moon.”

Pushing your apartment door open with your sneaker, you stepped in, flicked on the yellow lights that buzzed to life and flickered occasionally, and stripped yourself of your wet clothes. Shoes first, you kicked them off by the door, leaving them there to dry next to the other three pairs in your rotation of Jiangshi weather safe shoes. Pulling your hoodie off from the bottom, you turned the corner into your smaller bedroom and threw it in the hamper next to the bathroom door, doing the same to your jeans, slipping yourself into sweats to shield you from the Jiangshi cold. 

Pulling your hair back, your socked feet took you into the kitchen that ate up half of the space with the living room. Yanking open cabinets you pulled down a mug and some kind of tea your aunt sent you to the city with. She told you it helped ward off colds and different sicknesses one could catch from the dreary weather. It tasted good, though an acquired taste at first, cinnamoney, some peppermint, a bit of warm and cool all at once, a type of sensation that began to help you sleep after you became accustomed to it. It would knock you out all night, nothing could wake you up.

Turning the water on the stove, you leaned against the counter and folded your arms over your chest. Pictures lined your cabinets, polaroids, strips from photobooths, photos on printer paper, all full of friends, a few of you and your aunt, most of them you and Chris…

His wide, real, genuine smile, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. The sunshine in Jiangshi. Your sunshine. You couldn’t help but smile too, every time he would. Even looking at the photos, you felt it in your cheeks. Comfort. A constant in your life that moved all the way out here with you, two people not knowing where the hell they were going in life, but knowing that they needed to do it together.

Jiangshi’s been good to you both, school rocked, you fell in love with your classes, your professors, but for Chris, it changed his life entirely. 

You knew him, deep down to his core, he’s never belonged anywhere more than he has in Jiangshi. Up in Iloa, a dry city full of stuck up assholes, you both found a place you belong here, but Chris, he found family. 

It was hard to not feel jealous, a lot of his time he used to spend with you, he now gave it to the friends he’s made, the family he’s found, and as much as you understood, as much as you knew he needed it, it hurt. 

Your constant became an every now and again. A ‘maybe I can, let me just see what Minho is doing…’. You became a filler in his life, someone he’d come to when everyone else was busy. 

You’ve met his friends, seven of them all with the same sharpness in their features, the puppy in their eyes, the literal warmth radiating off of their bodies– God, you’d hate to be stuck in close quarters with all of eight of them at once, testosterone aside, the body heat, you’d suffocate. You can hardly handle sitting too close to Chris on the couch.

They were a great group of guys, Chris has told how they’ve taken him in, how much they’ve taught him, the confidence they’ve fed him… He found his place. He found his pack. 

But, that used to be you.

You were his pack. Words spoken to you back home in Iloa under a new moon, embracing the utter calm before the storm.

The feelings were new, though they’ve been buried within both of you for years. Neither of you expressed feeling more until a month ago. In his car, parked down an alleyway in the rain, housing a pizza while the CD he burnt for you played on repeat in the background of your giggles and endless chatter. Somehow the pizza box ended up on the floor of the backseat, somehow you crawled over the console, somehow you wound up in his lap, and somehow, someway, he had kissed you.

It’s been weird since then.

That night, one that made you feel things you’ve never felt before, the look in his eyes, the flash of gold brand new to either of you, something he’s never done, or been able to do, something shifted.

Something changed.

And though he hasn’t been avoiding you, that night hasn’t ever been talked about since it happened, but he wasn’t exactly making an effort to see you.

Pouring the boiling water into a mug, tea leaves swirling in the ceramic before settling to the bottom, you hooked the handle around your fingers and started for the couch, tiptoeing, being oh, so careful to not spill a drop on the floor–

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You spilled more than a drop.

Leaping backward, tea splattering over the floor, body taking a screenshot, you nearly tossed the mug onto the counter, spilling even more tea over the linoleum. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled, wiping your hands on your sweats, checking them for burns, unable to process what had just happened.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Spinning around, eyes wide, your door shook with the force it was banged upon.

Doors didn’t open in Jiangshi, not after you were already inside. Once inside, you stayed inside. Anyone who came with you stayed inside as well, no strays allowed. 

“It’s me, let me in!” Except one. “Please,” his voice broke, his accent thicker than ever, and… was he slurring his words? “Fuck, I can’t…” The sound of him moved away from the door, the shuffling of his feet heard on the wood of the landing outside.

Stepping closer, you shouted, “Chris?”, and heard him gasp.

Then, the hair on your arms sprung straight up, a chill shot down your spine, and your ears were pierced by the disgusting sound of sharp nails on metal. Dragging. Digging. Carving their way into the doorframe. 

Covering your ears until he deemed himself satisfied, you grabbed onto the doorknob and held it tight, peering out of the viewer you could only see the top of his head. Wet, stringy blonde hair pushed backward, his head hanging forward, down, his shoulders rising and falling significantly, heaving air through his lungs. He looked like himself, just tired. And soaked.

Both hands were pressed to either side of the door, waiting. 

Patient.

And when he lifted his head, a shock shot through your nervous system.

Bright, burning golden eyes glowed in the dark of night, his sharp canines extended in both rows of gorgeous teeth, his lips parted, brows pulled together, distraught, somewhat hurt… Actually hurt. A gash on his bottom lip greeted you after his tongue swiped over it, red staining his teeth. On his arms, scratches upon scratches, not deep enough to worry, but enough to discipline. 

Your heart squeezed between your lungs. This has happened before, a fight with one of the guys, one he cowered away from after learning his place, where he stood, and he came to you, and you patched him up. You took care of him, and he slept on your couch, and he sipped that special tea.

That night his eyes didn’t glow. That night his canines weren’t growing, and retracting, and growing again, nor did he have the need to dig his nails into absolutely anything, they never even made an appearance even after his moans and groans in protest of the sting of you cleaning his wounds. 

“I can’t let you in,” you said softly, keeping your voice steady. 

Tilting his head sideways, squeezing his eyes shut, nose scrunching, he muttered a fast and quiet, “Yes-you-can.”

Glancing at the locks on your door, one on the handle and two security hooks inches above it, you moved slowly and latched them both, doing your utmost best to not make a sound. His nails creased the metal of the doorframe and your whole body cringed. Peering out at him, he tipped his head back and whined. More animal than anything. 

“Don’t, don’t,” he breathed, pushing from the door, digging his hands in his hair. His elbows were just as scuffed as the rest of him. His black t-shirt, filthy. His dark ripped denim jeans, filthy. “Don’t use those locks, let me in, please.”

“Chris, I can’t, you know that,” you said, your tone gentle.

His head tilted again, the other way, a sharp movement that made his eyes shut once more, like the sound of your voice triggered him. Watching him stagger backward, you can see that he’s more bulky than his usual form, his muscles bulged in his sleeves, his chest threatening to rip through the fabric. The curve in his back, the slightest hunch, the bend in his knees, ever so small, but there.

“What is happening, the moon isn’t full,” you said, and he winced, teeth baring, teetering forward, not in control of himself, slamming against the door, his claws digging into it. Jumping away at the force, you withheld the yelp in your throat, knowing that if he heard you, and you were scared, he’d never forgive himself. Leaning back into it, laying a hand over your chest, you peered through the viewer. “Where did you come from?”

He lifted his head. The glow of his eyes had gone back to normal, sweet caramel chocolate swirl a relief to see. Gasping for air, his teeth having not retracted just yet, he shook his head. “Minho’s,” he mumbled.

“Why did he hurt you?”

Chris clenched his jaw and swallowed, tightening his brow, humming to himself as gold began to course through his irises. “Mmm’he didn’t,” he mumbled, loosing a breath, some sort of smile gracing his pretty lips, a flash of Chris, your Chris. “I hurt him,” he admitted, trying to laugh, “I can’t… control this right now.”

Throat tightening, you took a breath. Minho. “So, he what? Set you free? Fought back, lost, set you loose on the city? Great leader you’ve got there.”

He growled.

Oops.

Teeth shooting out, eyes flashing red for all of two seconds, he threw both fists at the door and shouted. “Keep his name out of your mouth!”

“Chris!” Raising your voice although it shook, you shifted your hands to your belly, holding onto yourself tight.

A whine ripped through him, a pathetic gasp to follow. Face contorting in anguish, he collapsed onto the door, laying his cheek to it. “M’sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean that, I can’t- I can’t-”

Pressing yourself to the door, you sighed. “Can’t control it, I know, it’s okay, Chris.”

Moving faster than humanly possible, he shot straight up, eyes aglow with gold. You heard his hands, his palms brush over the door, no nails to follow. Gaze darting around, searching, his brain logging things impossible to you, his nose scrunched and he groaned. 

“He sent me here.”

Your eyes went wide. “W-Who did? Minho?”

Chris swallowed, eyes narrowing, nose twitching with a frown of his lips. “Yeah,” he whispered, and you heard his hands move around the door. “There was nothing he could do for me.”

Appalled, you scoffed and tapped your fingers on the door. “And, there’s something here I can do for you?”

He looked directly at the viewer, startling you. “Yes,” he whispered. He blinked, the gold dimming. Slamming his palms on the door, he walked backward a few steps and shook his head. “No, what the fuck,” he mumbled to himself, dragging his hands through his hair and over his face. “No, no, no. Tell me to leave,” he said, walking back up to the door, “Tell me to leave, right now.”

“Chris, you’re hurt, and you’re not okay, I can’t just-”

He slammed his hands to the door, harder than ever, the vibrations moving through the metal, moving through you. “Tell me to leave! Now!” His scream, it should’ve scared you, should’ve been the red flag, but the gold of his eyes, the gold you saw that night in his car, on his lap, his hands on your waist, little space between you, between kisses…

You put the tip of your finger on one of the locks.

One little slide and it would come undone.

Chris tightened his jaw. “What are you doing?”

Incredible how you made no sound, yet he could hear you.

Golden eyes glanced into the viewer, glanced at you.

Pushing with your finger, you let the chain clang against the doorframe, and watched him berate with himself once more. Somewhere between man and wolf, his consciousness fist fighting for control and losing miserably. 

“Don’t. Don’t, please, don't," he mumbled as your finger moved on top of the second lock. “If I can smell you through the door, I won’t be able to… Don’t do it. Tell me to leave.”

Your whisper made him moan. “You won’t hurt me.”

His fists hit the metal. “That was before…”

“Before, what?” You slid the second lock open, and he sighed, his teeth sharpening, his eyes burning brighter, the sounds he made growing louder. 

“Don’t open the door,” he begged, “Please, I can’t… I won’t be able to stop. I know I said let me in, don’t listen to me. Do-not-listen-to-me.”

The last lock ticked, and he snapped. Eyes pointed at the handle, body on alert. So still it was as if anyone could walk by and not see him. 

You’ve never felt more like prey in your life.

But, why did it feel… good?

Twisting the handle, he didn’t move. He didn’t move until you pulled the door all the way open. He barely got a look at you before he curled into himself, pressing his hands to his face, over his eyes, over his nose. Collapsing backward, he fell against the doorframe and groaned so loud it rang in your ears.

“Chris,” you whispered, and he shot you a glare, clawing his hands at his sides, no nails in sight.

Eyes burning gold, he scrunched his nose and took a step into your apartment, slamming the door behind him. Large, bulky, strong. Much, much bigger than you. Though he looked himself, he most certainly was not himself. With one heavy step toward you, almost a charge, you leapt back some and he hurled himself into the kitchen. The dramatics. Throwing himself over a counter, burying his head in his hands, he groaned, body and muscles twitching, trying to move, his consciousness holding his own.

“...alone, leave it alone, can’t, can’t, can’t…not right…why’d he make me do this…smell, the smell…” 

You made out every other word of his grumbles. 

“Smell?” you questioned. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

Snapping his neck, he glared at you. Pure wolf. “You smell.”

Blinking, lips parted with an afterthought, you scoffed. “Excuse me?” Taking a hand to your hoodie, you lifted it to your nose. Soft lavender. “I changed when I got home. If anyone smells, it’s you, wet dog.”

He tried a smile, still bent over the counter. “That’s what you smell?” Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Keep it that way,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“...Because.”

“Because, why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you said so?”

He pounded his fists into the counter, standing up to full height, shoulders rolling back, asserting every bit of dominance. “Just listen to me.”

Every muscle in your body that had tensed since he first knocked on the door had seemed to relax. “Okay,” you whispered, and he whined, collapsing back over the counter. “Chris, what’s happening?”

His nails sprung out, hands grasping the linoleum for stability. “Tell me… to leave,” he muttered into his beefy bicep, voice low, gravely.

“No, Chris, what the fuck, I am not telling you to leave, there is something wrong and I’d rather you be here with me, then out there-”

Pushing himself off the counter, he stumbled backward into the stove, clawing at his t-shirt. Breath ragged, he shook his head with vigor, his brows pleading with you in a language you didn’t understand. “You don’t have any idea what’s happening,” he grumbled. 

Glancing around your apartment, you held out your hands and let them fall to your thighs. “Do I look like I know?”

In three quick paces he was in front of you, looking down at you, centimeters from your face, body heat wrapping around your throat, your lungs, your middle, your core. Breathing through his nose, his golden eyes fluttered shut and he sighed, shakily, jaw squaring, body stiffening, throat contracting…

Turning away from you, he hurried a step into the living room and folded himself in half over your couch, more unintelligible moans and groans falling from his lips. 

“Chris,” you opened your hands once more, following behind him. Whirling around, he grabbed your wrists and yanked you into him, wedging you between him and the sofa. Towering above you, his thighs pressing into yours, broad chest impenetrable– you were stuck. “Chris.”

Taking your trembling voice for what it was, he rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning into you, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Your body,” he whispered, chills erupting down your arms, your legs, “Begs to be bred.”

Gasping, wriggling in his grasp, you cursed your legs for how they pressed together, for how your body seemed to react. He moved slow, pulling his lips, his hot breath from your ear and the expanse of your neck, looking down at you with warm glowing eyes. Alluring. 

Gazing up at him, his sharp features, you whispered, “I-I’m… I’m…”

 “Ovulating,” he spat through his teeth. His voice, broken, gritty. “Fertile.”

Sucking in a breath, a warmth spreading under your skin that had his chest heaving, you whispered, “And, you can, you can-”

He curled his lip, leaning into you. “Smell it.”

“Right,” you breathed, and he parted his lips to drink it in, a soft growl on his tongue, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “And… because you can… You want to-”

His eyes flickered to yours. “Fuck you.”

A barely there whimper fell out of you, and he started to smirk. “You’re in heat,” you stated, and he ran his tongue over his teeth, his canines, his consciousness slipping further and further away the longer he stood this close to you. Gulping, your own consciousness telling you to run from this, the pull of his gaze and the warmth of his body and the strength in his grip and the promise of receiving a piece of him you’ve wanted for oh, so long now…

“That’s why Minho sent you here,” you whispered. He didn’t bother to listen now, hearing you’ve got it all figured out, he stared at you, sized you up, a plan in his head he set in stone long ago written on his smug face. “You told him that-” “That I love you,” he whispered, a peek of him coming through, “Yeah, I did.”

“You lo…” The words cut off with a breath, your own breathing on manual now, and not because of the beast that was about to make you his dinner. Going limp in his hold, body weight falling onto his chest, you shook your head in tiny. “Chris… We said we’d go slow.”

He tilted his head to the side, a minute movement. You weren’t sure who spoke, or who you were speaking to, or if he could hear you clearly, if he could think clearly. “Can’t.”

His body wrapped around you, the heat, the persuasion of his eyes, everything else melted away.

“You don’t speak to me for like a month, and now you-”

Strong hands wrapped around your jaw, tipping you back. A flash of gold washed over you just before he brushed his nose over yours, his gaze falling to your lips. Warm air trickled from between his lips, down your neck, the blaze burning over your skin, down your chest, over your arms, your middle, between your legs, a brazen forest fire, uncontainable, one that twisted every thought with a devilish whisper of you want this…

Barely pursing his lips, he kissed you gently. A miniscule roll of his lips onto yours, entirely chaste, and you kissed him back just the same, a barely there push of lips against his. Inhaling deeply, a flutter in your heart, you took in the scent of something sweet, a soft flower, nothing too sharp like lavender, or poignant like rose, just, soft. 

Comfort. 

Allowing it to put your mind at ease, reminding yourself that this was Chris, the boy who spilled his feelings to you in a jumbled mess of words that half made sense, the boy who has always smelled this soft, the boy who has shown you his other side countless times and has never once ever hurt you… You stretched your arms over his chest, looping them around his neck, parting your lips to deepen what he’d been afraid of, sliding your tongue over his bottom lip– He ripped himself away from you.

All of your weight rested on him, when he jumped across the living room you had to catch yourself on the couch he’d been pressing you to. Sucking down air, startled by how he moved, breathless from how long he’d been kissing you, you whirled around and threw your hands out at your side. 

“No,” he snarled, resting his back against the wall across from where you stood. Digging his fingers through his hair, he couldn’t look at you. His body tried to charge for you, though. “No, it’s not happening.”

Resting your hands on the cushions, you pressed your fingers into them. Gulping, you drug your eyes up and down his form, over every bulging muscle, every heave of his chest as his mind and body went to war, the ragged breaths tearing through his full, plump pink lips delectable as ever, the obvious bulge in his jeans he couldn’t deny if he tried.

Every sigh made your skin crawl.

Every twitch of his hips pooled saliva over your tongue.

Every flash of gold he beguiled your eyes with soaked your panties.

He moved far from you, but you could still smell him.

Soft, fresh clean laundry, a clear spring day, the first gust of air stepping into an ice cream shoppe.

Your muscles tensed.

Squeezing your legs together, bending at the knees, you furrowed your brows and clawed at the couch cushions, the sound triggering him to snap his neck in your direction, eyes focused, ears pointed at the sound. From your fingers to your lustrous gaze he studied. He stood up straight, head cocking to the side ever so slightly. Curious.

Body on absolute fire, the need wedged within your thighs unbearable, humiliating, you clenched your jaw and watched as he attempted to retract his claws, his teeth.

But, his eyes, burning as bright as the need coursing through your veins, like your feelings fueled their glow, gave birth to their very existence, they knew you were empty.

You’ve never felt it more than in this very moment, unable to recall the last time you ever did feel it. 

Chris whispered with a scrunch of his nose, “I can smell you from here.”

“I can smell you, too,” you whispered back, and he raised a brow.

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

He took a steady breath. “Wet dog?”

Biting on your bottom lip, you blinked and gave him a smile. “Delicious.”

“Shit,” he sneered, spinning around, pressing his hands to his face. Prowling around the couch, tiptoeing behind him though he could hear every move you made, you smoothed your hands over the expanse of his back and trembled at the knees, something resembled a quiet whine slipping through your lips. “Don’t look at me anymore,” he said, then whispered, “Why did he tell me to come here?”

“Because I need you to fill me,” you breathed, and he shot straight up, hands pressing to the wall. 

Scent thicker behind him like this, every thought of what if dissipated, the only one left behind is that of a thought you kept for yourself late at night, what it would feel like to have your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped inside of you. 

The sweetness grew tenfold. 

“Chris,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his middle, clinging to his back, a mere koala hanging off of him.  

More than a want, more than a need, your body craved him.

Taking a hand from the wall, he placed it over yours on his chest. Heavy, hot, strong.  “It’s different,” he grumbled, shaking his head, letting it hang. “It won’t be me.”

“Yes, it will be,” you begged, pushing yourself against him. 

Holding onto your hands, he turned and pressed his backside to the wall, tugging you into him. Nose to nose, he thinned his lips and shook his head. “You’re already close to halfway gone. Do you hear yourself? This isn’t you, it’s the-” 

Gold pulsed in his irises as you clenched around nothing, his voice tickling your skin.

Snapping his mouth shut, he groaned to himself, attempting a deep breath. Leaning into you, his lips close to yours that you tried to catch and he wouldn’t let you, he whispered, “If I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

“That’s fine, that’s-”

He spat, “At all. Until I’m done, until my body is satisfied, until it knows you’re…”

The breath that pushed through your lips made him break his gaze, glaring elsewhere in the room. 

“Bred,” you whispered. His breathing grew heavier, every exhale waltzing with a soft grunt that made you want to shove your hand in your pants. “This never happened before, why now?”

Chris’s throat tightened, his hands tensing around you. Shrugging, he mustered up the courage to look at you with a heavy sigh, “Because, it clicked. We’re it.”

Lips tipping up, you slid your hands down his front. “No shit, I can feel it.”

Catching your wrists before they slid too far, he groaned and pulled them up to his chest. “I can tell.”

“And now you have to give me a baby,” you whispered.

Throwing his head back, he just about roared, his groan echoing against your walls, gold eyes shining brighter than they have all night. Gripping your wrists with a vengeance, he peered down at you, gold like a siren song luring you into bed. “You tell me to leave, we can get through this. Let me go, and we’ll-”

“No.”

He flashed you all of his teeth, his canines, and glared at you. “No?” 

Narrowing your eyes, lowering your brows, trying to hold onto him as tightly as he held onto you, you said it again with a snap of your jaw. “No!”

Grunting, he pushed off of the wall and towered over you, walking you backward through your living room. “Did you hear me? What I said?” Excitement flooded your senses, sugary sweets lingered in the air, his heat fogged your windows. He paused in the doorway of your bedroom. “If I start… I won’t be able to stop.”

You wanted him everywhere, his size, his teeth, his strength. Sideways, in your bed, over the back of your sofa, on the kitchen counter, naked, sweaty and making a mess of each other, unable to get enough, utterly famished, and you needed him to pump you full, milking himself dry, as many times as it’d take, you were his to ruin, to claim. 

Your body gave you away, it was as if he could read every thought.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do,” he whispered, voice quiet. He knew he’d lost. 

You needed him inside of you yesterday. Pressing your thighs together, smiling as his nose twitched, you rose to your tiptoes and brushed your lips over his cheek. “But, you do.”

Wrenching his eyes shut, he grasped the doorframe. Breathless, he admitted, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” you whispered, kissing his cheek, dancing a hand over his chest and thundering heart. “You could never hurt me. I know you won’t. I want you.” He opened his golden eyes to your innocent smile. “Please?”

Arms engulfing you, he picked you up effortlessly, tossing you back onto your bed made with a plush grey comforter and about a hundred pillows. Through a laugh, you bounced on the mattress and sat up on your elbows, reaching one hand out for him to grab, but he opted for your ankles. In the dark, his eyes burned bright, his expression turning from one you knew to one that pierced through you, into you, deep.

Pulling you toward him by the ankles, you giggled and hummed as your hips met, circling yours against him, grinding into him. He laid over you, his feet firm on the floor, taking your forearms in his, laying you backward on the bed, pinning you down. Jaw clenched tight, he stared at you, his breath shallow and quiet. Nose just grazing your skin, he moved with caution, sizing you up, gaze eating you alive and examining you like he wasn’t sure you were good enough.

Breath tickled your neck, his nose and his chin nudging you gently, a predator stalking his prey. 

In the quiet of your bedroom his soft grunts of contentment rendered your brain dizzy, every release like he pushed a finger inside of you, bringing you closer to the edge without even touching you. His tongue drug up the side of your neck, the faintest touch, tasting you, his groan melting into one of your own, a heavy breath caught between your bodies. Aside from his hands, his hips pressing into yours, he didn’t touch you, but his teeth did, soon after his tongue teased beneath your ear.

Arching into his chest, sucking in a breath, the tips of his canines drug over your neck, Chris pressing them into your skin below your chin, his entire jaw almost locking around your throat. If he finished shifting, he’d fit your neck between his teeth easily, too easily. Even now he’d be able to rip into it, his fangs seemed to grow sharper the longer he toyed with you.

Your shaky breath startled him, the push of air making him cower backward, his head dropping and his shoulders rising, his hands pressing yours further into the mattress. His shoulders had widened some, his form larger, every muscle bulkier, thicker, veinier. You could feel the claws on his fingers digging into your arms, just as sharp as his teeth that now poked out over his pink lip.

The final form before the last.

Exhaling through his nose, the breath heavy and hot, his glowing eyes stared into yours. 

He didn’t blink. 

He didn’t move.

An apex predator.

One as smart as he was strong, as beautiful as he was rough.

He could kill you, right now, and he’d make it quick, a simple task for a monster of his size, his intelligence, but as his golden eyes finally blinked, and cotton candy wafted through the air, the sturdy jaw that’s clamped down and ripped through a plethora of nothings you care to remember, it softened. His lips parted, and both sets of teeth poked through, a gentle growl sneaking out of the depths of him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shook with every sigh, your hips desperately ground against his. Lifting your head, coming nose to nose, you whispered, “Chris?”

Grizzly breath poured over you, your man now more creature than ever. Voice rough, scratchy, so deep that it vibrated inside of you, he forced the words out of himself. “M’still here.”

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your nose side to side over his. “I’m-”

He pushed down on your arms, knocking you back on bed. Throwing his head down to your chest, his back curved and he groaned, loud, you’re certain you heard a crack. 

Gasping, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away. 

This was it.

Panting, a whine escaping with every breath, you attempted to melt into the mattress, unable to even contemplate how you were going to get out of here. “No,” you whispered, listening to him groan, listening to him try to fight it. You’ve been through this before, you’ve both tried everything, there was no fighting it. “Don’t, Christopher, please,” you babbled, shaking your head, “Don’t. It’s me… it’s me. You won’t hurt me, you won’t, you love me. I love you, you can’t…”

He’d stopped moving. When, you weren’t sure. 

Shutting yourself up, you held your breath and opened your eyes, looking down at him. Back still curved, eyes still golden, teeth pointed, he stared at you through his lashes, laying over your belly, watching you. You didn’t dare to say more, nor did you think to move. His glare had softened, his breathing evened out, the shift was incomplete physically, still somewhat man, but the way his eyes darted back and forth between yours, to your lips, back to your eyes…

He’d gone feral mentally.

And he moved with the pace and strength of an animal.

Letting go of your arms, he grabbed the waist of your sweats and pulled, ripping them to shreds and throwing them to the floor. Holding your breath as he climbed onto the bed and crawled over you, two sizes too big, you laid flat on the mattress, eyes wide as he grabbed the collar of your hoodie and pulled, lifting you with it, ripping the cotton off your body like he was shredding mere paper. 

Letting you flop back on your comforter, he crawled a little higher, his thighs straddling your shoulders. Reaching between his legs, he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up to your pillows, his thighs now caging yours to the bed. Like a ragdoll he moved you, you were certain he could move mountains in this state. 

Quiet sounds left him, ones mixing with the power of your breaths with each of his movements, his purrs curious, and satisfied thus far with himself. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he didn’t press, but he tipped your chin upward, meeting your eyes with a small smile, sitting on top of you tall, too big, intimidating. 

You wanted him to crush you.

If everything else got bigger…

“You wanted to get fucked,” he grumbled, tilting your head side to side. “Naked under all that?”

A quiet whine slipped from your throat, making him wince. “I-I was home for the night, I didn’t…”

He pushed your chin back further with the back of his hand, his fingertips pressing to the sides, dizzying your head further. “I don’t wanna hear it. You were aroused when I showed up,” he growled, dropping down on top of you, his lips ghosting yours, “Were you gonna touch yourself tonight?”

Trying to breath, your airflow restricted, gazing up into his golden glow, you whined, and nodded.

He smirked. “You do almost every night, don’t you?” Dipping his tongue out, he licked the seam of your lips, huffing as you nodded again, trembling under his grasp. “I know you do,” he whispered, and your eyes went wide, your brows flipping over. “So cute,” he grumbled, fingers squeezing your neck. “You forget I can smell you, when you’re horny, when you’re ovulating, when you’re bleeding, when you’re desperate for someone to take care of you, don’t think I don’t know what you think about when you’re making yourself cum on your fingers.”

Writhing beneath him, you whispered, “You.”

Chris grinned, dimples blessing his cheeks, canines pressing into his lips. “Acting all innocent when you meet me in the morning like you weren’t imagining me on top of you while you were three knuckles deep the night before.” He nodded behind you. “Moaning my name into these pillows? Huh?” He smirked and drug his tongue over your jaw. “Can’t let the neighbors hear you, yeah?” 

“Chris, I-”

He didn’t let you finish. Straightening his brow, he released your neck and reached between his legs for your hips, pulling you out from under him. Sitting on his knees, he scooped his hands under yours and pushed you backward before he gripped your thighs and lifted you onto him. Gripping the sheets, nearly shouting his name, you looked up at him from the pillows and whimpered. He had you bent in half with your feet locked behind his neck over his wide shoulders and his head between your legs, holding you up with his body. 

Fingers pressing into the curve of your thigh, the dip of your hips, the round of your ass, he fluttered his eyes shut and took a long breath, an inhale of pleasure and a warm exhale of power over your slick, your body shaking in his hold. 

Tightening around nothing, a plea, a beg for him to give you something, you pushed your head backward, grabbed fistfuls of sheets, screwed your eyes shut and shouted, barely recognizing yourself, “Chris, please, give it to me!”

You’re met with gold for but a second before his tongue dips into you and your eyes roll back, your toes curling. 

Finally.

Whining as his warm muscle drug through your arousal, you gasped as he clamped you down to his chest and abused your clit. Tongue swirling, flicking, teasing, lips smacking, pulling, sucking, teeth nudging, never hurting– he moaned into you, golden eyes admiring you falling apart at his mercy, his cock growing harder with every cry of his name. Plunging his tongue into your entrance, he took one thumb to your clit and pressed, and twisted, and pressed again, tongue fucking you, every smack, every squelch, disgusting… It brought you closer. You’ve never been sprung so close to orgasm so fast, ever.

Sappy sweet wrapped around you, warped your mind, furthered the ecstasy pulsing through you, the heat searing through and out of your body. Chris, nothing but Chris, you couldn’t think of anything else, the world washed away with the rain pelting your windows, you couldn’t hear any of it, the wind, the howls outside, all that was left– Chris, his whimpers of pleasure, his thrusts against your back, his cock, heavy and full of cum that you needed inside of you…

His to use, his to fill, his to breed.

You were his. The gold in his eyes spoke to you, telling you exactly that. You were his. You’d never need anyone else ever again, he was yours. 

Thrashing against him, impetuous wails filling the air, wracking the walls, this wasn’t supposed to feel this good. You could stay here forever, bent upward, pinned to his chest while his tongue made love to your pussy and his cock speared you in the back.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, reaching to grab onto his thighs, your nails digging into his muscle. “Chris, god, please, don’t stop, M’gonna cum!” 

Circling your hips, grinding on his tongue, he growled and your body went still. Blinking up at him, he wrapped both arms around your thighs and pulled you tighter to him, baring his teeth, eyes pointed. Tongue pressing to your clit, he leaned over you, pushing you into the mattress as he furthered his assault, working faster, quicker, moaning louder, listening to you, and then, one of his hands dropped to your throat.

Fingers squeezing the sides, you went silent, lips parting, a breath caught in your lungs. Going dizzy, every thought fuzzy, the only whispered mantra falling from your lips Chris, chris, chris… Hips pressing up against him, vision searing white, you arched off of his chest and cried. Thighs closing him in, you shook violently, and he kept going.

Reaching up for him, fingers tangling in his hair, you tried to push him off, but the glare he shot down to you sent you retreating. Trembling, your entire body vibrating, the sounds that came out of you were pathetic, embarrassing, you couldn’t take it, it was too much, he needed to stop, your walls were tightening, your second orgasm stared you in the face, and he needed to get inside of you.

You said it all out loud, a mess of words strung together in some form of incoherent babbles that made him snicker. 

“You don’t even know what you want,” he grumbled, holding onto your thighs as he moved backward and dropped you down to the mattress. He reached behind him for the collar of his shirt and pulled it off of himself, his hair a mess on top of his head. Crawling backward on top of the pillows, you pulled your knees into your chest and watched him, your bottom lip lodging between your teeth.

Shaking, aftershocks like waves washing through you, you tried to take deep breaths.

For what, you weren’t sure.

Chris unfasted his pants and pushed them down his hips, tight boxers escaping as well, his thick, long, eager cock springing up, tempting you. Lips parting, you ogled his leaking tip and licked at the corners of your mouth. Heart thundering, your breathing shallow, you gulped and looked up at him, smug as ever.

Tongue dragging over his bottom teeth, pressing to his cheek, he lowered his chin. “Come here.” His golden eyes had gone dark, burning deeper, persuading you utterly submissive. With a meek shake of your head, the size of him intimidating, he narrowed his eyes and growled. “Gonna make me say it fucking twice,” he raised his voice, lunging for one of your ankles, dragging you in front of him quick with a yelp, “I said, come here.”

Palms pressing to your thighs, he spread you open and laid over you, his lips locking with yours, the taste of you still on his tongue. Moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip to your entrance, the sheer difference in size making you both shudder, you threw your arms around his neck and closed your eyes.

“Tiny thing,” he muttered in shared air, dropping his head to peer between your bodies. Nudging your hole, he bared his teeth with a snarl feeling you close up. Taking his lips to your ear, he kissed your lobe and whispered, “Relax.” Holding onto him tighter, you could only whimper. Brushing his lips across your cheek to kiss you slowly, he hummed against your lips and whispered, “Let me in.” 

“Chris.”

“Shhh,” he soothed, touching his nose to yours, “Look at me,” and when you listened, he smiled, and the gold calmed you. 

A blanket of comfort. 

Warmth. 

Chris. 

A gentle waft of the earth after it rained passed through the air. Your legs spread backward as you gazed up at him, lifting your chin to give him a kiss, taking an involuntary long deep breath as your eyes fluttered shut and a pressure grew between your legs. His head dropped to your shoulder with an erotic whimper, and as the smell of rain dissipated and the facade of the gold broke apart, you clamped yourself around him and cried out.

He had sunken into you entirely, the stretch so unbearable it felt good. Big, bigger than anything you’ve ever had, bigger than what you were even expecting, god, you couldn’t breath, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t do anything but try to breathe, but even then, he thrust into you and knocked it right out of your lungs. 

He was splitting you right in two. 

And with how he writhed and grunted against your neck, he wasn’t giving you any time to attempt to adjust.

Pistoling into you, drinking up every string of moans that flew from your lips, he wore a pinched brow, his teeth clenched, his pink lips curling. Pressing his forehead to your cheek, to your neck, to your chest, he nuzzled his head against you, his hair, his chin, and when he wasn’t spreading his scent, he was dragging his tongue over your neck, over your lips. 

His own pathetic grunts washed over you, the look in his eye not a lick conscious, not a care in the world for how he gripped onto you so tight that his fingerprints were branded into your skin, or for where his teeth went and how hard they dug into your shoulder, or for the press of his nails, in your hips, your belly, your thighs, your ankles…

The bed creaked, moving faster with each thrust, he folded you backward, clawing at the mattress beside your head. Golden eyes glowing brighter, his hips snapped and snapped, the sound of your skin smacking almost as loud as your wails, your cries for more, your cries for him.

He invaded every sense, took over every little signal in your brain, became the one and only thing you needed, the one and only thing you wanted–

“Cum inside me,” you choked out, dragging your nails over the expanse of his back, not doing nearly as much damage as he’d done to you. He growled into your neck, thrusting even faster, so you cried out, voice broken, disgustingly desperate, “I need it, Chris, I’m so empty, wanna be full of you, fuck it into me, breed me, baby, please!”

He roared, pushing into you to the hilt, folding you in half, his legs stretching behind him. Pulsing into you, he moaned so loud the walls shook, and you felt it.

You felt it.

You never can feel it.

You’re not supposed to.

That’s not something that happens, you don’t feel it.

He pumped you full, and you felt it, and he kept cumming, twitching inside of you, soft, weak whimpers hiding in the back of his throat. A sticky warmth he spurted up into you, your belly growing hot, a buzzing within you, calming you. Your body shook, and you tightened around him.

Laid on top of you, a sweaty, panting mess, Chris stirred, propping himself up on his elbows, his head laid in your neck. Groaning with a lazy thrust of his hips, he lifted his head, and you sighed.

He was still hard.

His eyes were still gold. 

His teeth were still pointed.

He released a breath and whined. “M’sorry.”

Before you could get out a word, he moved in a flash, pushing himself off you, grabbing onto your waist, flipping you over face down without slipping out of you. Holding onto your hips, he pushed one hand to your back and arched you into the mattress, letting his hand slide down further to grab onto your hair, yanking your head back. 

Without warning, he picked up where he left off, quick, short snaps of his hips, harder and harder. “Thought you’d get away with one,” he grumbled, splaying his palm across your asscheek with a slap before he dug his nails into your skin. Laughing as you yelped, keeping you in place with a tug on your hair, he shook his head. “Need at least three to get a bitch fucking pregnant.”

Squeezing him tight, eyes rolling backward, his words spurred you on, your second orgasm impending, seconds from snapping. 

“Look at what you’ve fucking done to me,” he groaned. The bed frame wracked against the wall. “You’re nothing but a hole to fuck, a womb to fill, walking around like you have no fucking idea what I have to go through every fucking month, did you know that?”

Through babbled moans, you managed, “No.”

He bent himself in half, his lips brushing your ear, his cock curving up into you. “Better fucking learn. A pretty fucking face with a tight fucking pussy, fuck. How pretty you’ll be full me? This one’ll stick, yeah? You want that?”

Tongue pressing to your bottom lip, entirely fucked out and dumb, you moaned out, “I want it.”

His teeth grazed your neck, his voice spiraled you straight over the edge. “Then take my fucking cum.” Arching back into him, your head pressing to his neck, body writhing, splaying out on the mattress, you cried out his name and he smiled. “Good fucking girl,” he growled with feral thrusts of his hips, pressing hot kisses to your shoulders, “Baby likes getting fucked dumb, huh?”

“Yes,” you whispered, breathless, limbs unable to hold yourself up anymore.

Chris took his arms under you and lifted you up, laying you over his chest, the way he fucked into you– immpossible.  Sliding one hand down your middle, he toyed with your clit and snickered as you thrashed. “More,” he moaned, sliding his tongue over your neck, “You’re so fucking wet, I want more, make a mess.” 

The sheets under you were ruined. Leaking around him, his cock, his hips, covered. Your thighs, adorned by the mix he fucked you full of… Any more and you’d have to rid of the mattress.

The twist of his fingers and the snap of his hips pushed you over again, for the third time, a silent scream forcing its way out of you, all control you had on your body entirely lost. Limp in his arms, he praised you and laid you down headfirst, his bodyweight on top of you. Clinging to you, desperate grunts in your ear, he thrust into you twice and pushed. Like he wanted to split you in half, spurting into you, warmth filling you, everything going fuzzy.

He kept cumming.

He couldn’t stop. 

Pressing chaste kisses to your cheek, to your shoulder, to your back, he shook, and he kept cumming. Whimpers of your name fell from his lips, a sweet song keeping you somewhat grounded, but then you were moved, and you were under him again, and he had you flipped wrong ways down on the bed, and he tried to kiss you, and his teeth were digging into your shoulder, and he pinned your wrists above your head, and he brought you to orgasm again, one that hit you like you’d been plunged under water, drowning in ecstasy, and he wouldn’t stop, and he couldn’t stop, and you made him cum again, your belly so bloated, so full, so good for him…

“...back to me, baby,” you heard him whisper.

Blinking, still in the darkness of your bedroom, you swallowed, or tried to, your throat like sandpaper. Sitting up, every muscle in your body groaned, and a pair of warm hands wrapped around you, pulling you back into their lap.

“Lay down,” he whispered, lips pressing to your temple. 

Turning your chin, blinking away the blur in your eyes, you looked up at him and his soft smile and felt your throat tighten. “Chris,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he breathed, smoothing his hands down your arms, over your thighs. He had dressed you, you were in new sweats and a big tee. He’d thrown on a grey pair he kept over here in a random drawer. “You feel okay?” His brown eyes were laced with worry, his brows pulled into the center of his forehead.

No teeth.

No impossibly wide shoulders.

No golden glow.

Just Chris.

Sliding a hand over your belly, you lowered your brows and mumbled, “I feel…”

He sighed, dropping his head, his forehead on yours. “I know.”

His pointless shame made you smile. “How many times did you…”

“Five,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

A laugh caught on your lips. Gazing up at him, you scoffed, and he twisted his brow, confused.

“What?”

“Five times,” you laughed, “I thought I was fertile, it took five times!?”

Chris rocked backward, gasping, half a laugh escaping him. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

Laying a hand to his bare chest and his beating heart, his body heat enough to make you sweat, you took a deep breath. “Guess not,” you giggled. Silence wrapped around the two of you for a moment, your gazes saying everything that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Breaking the quiet, you smiled. “You love me.”

He rolled his eyes and tipped his chin back, dragging his tongue over his teeth before it pushed into his cheek. “Yeah, well, you love me, so what are we gonna do about it?”

Blushing, you took your hand to his cheek and gave his dimple a pinch. “What are we gonna do about what we just did?” He took a breath and nodded, grabbing a hold of your hand, giving your wrist a gentle kiss where marks from his nails were evident. “We can’t have a baby right now, Chris.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You have more of that tea your aunt gave you?”

“In the kitchen cabinet next to the stove,” you whispered. “That’ll fix it?” With a simple nod he moved out from under you. Rolling onto your side, your body unhappy, you watched him start for the door. “How do you know that?”

He licked his lips and shrugged, the quietest, “Minho,” coming out of him.

You wheezed, falling into hysterics, and he cowered with a grin. “You bastards!”

He hurried out of your bedroom with a shout. “I love you!”

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“i can,” he insists on a warble. jisung’s sticky-wet cock drags across your sticky-wet thigh. he’s so close to where you need him but still so far, bumping your swollen clit or catching in the crease of a spread thigh in his many attempts to fuck you while he’s fucked. your hole pulses like it’s hungry, searching for a snack. “hyung, i can. baby, baby, i can, just-”

jisung’s palms flatten against the mattress on either side of your head, his hips tremble as he adjusts his stance where he’s sandwiched between you and his hyung. your greedy hands slide up his toned arms and a shiver wracks his frame. he eases closer on his knees, his cock kissing a tender fold of your labia before it finally puts sweet pressure on your hole. your fingers squeeze his shoulders then; pleading eyes locked on jisung’s, your breath catches in your lungs in anticipation of that delicious slide home.

the steady press of jisung’s cock crown parts your lower lips, and minho looms like a threatening shadow, grinning toothily over jisung’s shoulder.

you don’t have time to fret over what you’re sure he’s planning because it happens before you can, hazy, dick-drunk brain catching on a second too late — his hands tighten on jisung’s waist and he fucks deep in one single thrust, grinding so slowly into him that your own legs tremble where they’re bent because you know what he must be feeling.

in a perfect world, the sudden buck of minho’s strong hips would pop jisung right inside of your cunt. in a perfect world, you’d be filled to the brim the way jisung is, fucked deep and full like you ache for.

but the press of that beautiful cock is gone as soon as it came, minho’s mischievous hips rutting so purposefully that it makes jisung slide back up your pussy instead of in, hugged between slick, swollen lips and gliding over your clit in some semblance of an apology. you wail, chin quivering, and jisung follows yours with his own.

“didn’t i tell you?” minho huffs. blue-black hair bounces with his thrusts, sweat beads at his temples. his ears are red, red, red, and the clap of his hips sounds like sin. you follow the rhythmic pop of his pecs with bleary eyes, vision clouded in the corner by the sweaty tips of jisung’s hair as he pants and whines above you. “you just don’t know how to fuck, do you, jisungie?” minho shakes his head and addresses you next, tutting his tongue. his expression is full of sweet faux pity. “oh, honey, i’m sorry. our bug only knows how to get fucked.”

“ha-a-aaa,” jisung moans, and that’s all he can say. his hips rabbit then, a seesaw of movement that quickens the slide of his leaky cock over the sopping seam of your pussy while still managing to plow himself on the tip of minho’s thick cock, all while you haven’t even taken an inch.

“it’s-” you start. you want to kick your feet, you want to beat your fists against the mattress. your eyes are starting to sting, chin quivering again as your stomach tightens hard, like your body is trying to make you cum on its own. “it’s not fair! it’s- jisungie can get- but i can’t- it hurts, please!”

jisung’s weight nearly drops on you then. you can feel the flutter of his lashes on the clammy skin of your neck, his eyes squeezed shut as he presses frantic kisses there to soothe you from his own accidental actions. his hand determinedly slips between your bodies to reach for his cock and put himself inside to give you what you want, but minho catches his arm with a growl and pins it back against the mattress.

you try then, surely minho can’t see what you’re doing with jisung’s pretty body in between you. your own shaky fingers dip across your stomach and down between your legs, searching, until fingertips brush a bulbous head and angle it in the right direction. your tongue sticks to the side of your mouth in concentration, a throaty grunt leaving your lips, but minho’s stern, unfaltering gaze suddenly stops you in your tracks.

when he looks at you like that, you know you’re cruising for a punishment. it’s worth it this time, you think, the idea of jisung’s perfect cock sitting snug inside the grip of your aching cunt feels worth a spanking or a ruined orgasm when you least expect it.

“jisungie, look. you’re mistreating our baby.” how can a voice so sweet be so condescending?

jisung’s ruddy face pops up from its hiding place between your shoulder and neck. his eyebrows furrow, he pouts. his heavy, full balls mash against your cunt when he undulates his hips, miscalculating for the umpteenth time in an attempt to guide himself inside without his hands. there’s a sloppy kiss pressed to your lips, another and another until you’re opening your mouth for his pink little probing tongue. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, almost inaudible where the words are pressed into your mouth. “i’m trying, baby, minho’s- hyung is mean, i can’t, he won’t let me-”

you both gasp loudly at the sudden movement, at the surprise change of position when it happens. you’re looking up at jisung until you’re not, his body bounces lightly as he’s roughly manhandled onto the bed beside you. jisung snivels in your ear, achingly empty now as you’ve been all night.

minho takes jisung’s place between your legs. the snap of him removing his used condom floods your ears, the opening tear of a new packet next. he slides the new condom snugly down his throbbing cock and polishes it in his fist.

“hyung is mean? ah, han jisung. if hyung was mean would he show you this? would he teach you how to do it correctly?” minho’s knees bracket your hips, the backs of your thighs rest over the thick tops of his. you’re trembling with how bad you want it, want whatever minho’s going to do to you, whatever lesson he’s going to make of you. he’s still jerking his cock when he presses the head to the tender give of your hole. “keep your eyes right here, right on this pretty cunt. watch how it’s done.”

he gives you his tip first, pauses there to smile sweetly at the wide gape of your mouth before he slides in all the way, balls deep, lifting up in his knees to grind his lower stomach into your throbbing clit.

it’s glitter and gold, and you reach for them both. you entwine your fingers with jisung’s, grip minho’s elbow for dear life as you’re finally fucked into the mattress.

jisung is propped up on his elbow, gaze intense and locked on your fucked open cunt just like minho told him. he licks his lips. he’s pressed so close beside you that he rocks with your movement. the hand not holding yours reaches to pull your leg back. it slides under the sweaty dip of your bent knee, pulling you further apart for minho to fuck and for him to watch.

minho hisses then, his chin ducked so he can watch himself fuck you sloppy too. his eyes are wide, his brows furrowed.

Still, that didn’t keep him from fantasizing. Constantly, shamelessly, unhingedly.

He’d never known what it felt like to have warm walls wrapped around his cock. Never heard those broken whines girls in hentai would make— unless he counted the ones he accidentally let out when he edged himself too long. His hand was simply never enough, no matter how many times he convinced himself he could “recreate the pressure.”

The bottle of lotion and box of tissues on his nightstand weren’t even hidden anymore— they sat like holy relics beside his gaming PC, ready for immediate access the second he closed League and opened incognito mode.

Porn never fully satisfied his craving though, he always wanted more. Even the best JAV compilation or doujinshi fan dub couldn’t compare to the real sickness consuming his brain: you.

You, with the glossy Instagram that he scrolled through like it was the damn Louvre. You, wearing micro bikinis in pool selfies with captions like ‘hot girl summer’ while he rots in bed, sweating and crying at the curvature of your ass.

You, biting your glittery, gel pen in class, leaning across the desk to ask for help, accidentally flashing a glimpse of cleavage so dangerous it made him pause mid-equation like he got hit with a stun grenade. Stalking your Instagram, seeing you in the tiniest baby tees and mini skirts. It was the perfect gooner material.

He’d stroke himself under the covers while biting a t-shirt to keep quiet, muttering your name between gasps like he was summoning a spirit. Fantasies playing out in his head that ranged from soft and romantic— like kissing you breathless during office hours— to completely feral, like bending you over his anime pillow while you called him “pretty boy” and ruined his life.

It didn’t help that you flirted with him now.

That you asked him to tutor you.

That you sat so close during study sessions he could sense your perfume from a mile away and taste the salt from the fries you always stole off his plate.

You laughed at his jokes, called him cute, even once said he had “nice hands,” and he nearly evaporated on the spot. Had to excuse himself to the bathroom with a boner and a prayer.

Every night ended the same. Him, fisting his cock in pathetic desperation at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole, whispering ‘please’ like a man on the verge of religious enlightenment.

And every night, after he came all over his own stomach, out of breath and guilt-ridden, he’d sigh dramatically and say,

“I’m going to die alone. I know it. I’ll be the guy with the Zero Two body pillow and the unopened condom pack from 2017 that he keeps in case of a miracle.”

He did not, under any circumstances, expect you to be that miracle.

Never in a million years did he think he’d actually have a chance, let alone be dating you. You were just too perfect. The literal girl of his dreams.

Popular. Gorgeous. Cool in the kind of way that made any and everyone want to be around you without knowing why. You had that magnetic charm about you, an easily contagious laugh, a confident stride when you walk, and that dangerous habit of licking your lip gloss mid-sentence like you were in a CW drama.

And yet, somehow, here he was, currently horizontal on his bed, shirtless, breathless, with you on top of him wearing his oversized Bleach t-shirt and not much else, grinning like you’d just won first place in a science fair and a dance battle.

“Are you glitching?” You asked, poking his cheek. “Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in?”

“I- uh- w-what? No- yes? No.” He stuttered like every word had just magically left his vocabulary, he was definitely malfunctioning.

You laughed, head dropping onto his bare chest as he laid stiff as a board, arms hovering midair like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you even now. Even after dating you for a whole month.

“A month,” he whispered, still stunned by the timeline. “That’s like… thirty days of you voluntarily being seen with me.”

“Thirty one,” you corrected, lifting your head to smirk down at him. “Don’t forget the bonus day where you kissed me in front of the vending machine and the entire basketball team clapped.”

“I thought I was going to throw up.”

“You looked like you did throw up.”

Jisung covered his face with both hands and groaned.

God, he still didn’t know how this happened. When you had asked him to tutor you in stats, he assumed you were just kidding— or high. But you weren’t. You’d actually shown up. You’d flirted, sat on his lap one time when all the seats were taken at the library, and then acted like it was no big deal while his soul left his body.

And now here you were. Straddling him. Teasing him. Literally wearing his t-shirt with the anime print on it and calling him “baby” in the kind of voice that should be illegal.

“You’re so tense, Sungie,” you murmur, lightly dragging your fingers down his chest. “I know you like it when I touch you. You make these cute little gasps like a baby bird.”

“I-I don’t sound like a baby bird,” he mumbled, absolutely sounding like a baby bird.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Chirp.”

Jisung squeaked.

You lost it, giggling into his neck while he covered his blushy face with a pillow. “Oh my god, stopp- why are you like this- why did you choose me,”

“Because you’re smart, and sweet, and you get all flustered when I call you hot. And because,” you sat up again, hips rolling ever so slightly and watching his pupils blow wide as you rocked against his clothed erect, “you say things like ‘This is just like my fanfic’ under your breath and then deny it.”

He groaned at the sudden friction, arms falling limp at his sides. “You heard that?”

“Babe, I hear everything. Like right now, I can hear how bad you want me to ride you.” You bit your lip, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace as you continuously grind on him.

Jisung whimpered. “Okay. I- this is really happening, right? This isn’t like, some kind of VR dream or like a… cursed hentai plotline where I wake up and you’re actually a sentient toaster?”

You blinked. “What the hell kind of anime are you watching?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind, pretend I didn’t say that..”

You kissed him then. Slowly. Tenderly. Like you had all the time in the world and like you couldn’t believe your luck either. Because yeah, you were the cool girl, but Jisung was the first guy who actually listened when you talked. Who remembered your favorite boba order. Who’d stayed up until 3 am tutoring you and still walked you to your dorm with sleepy, nerdy affection twinkling in his eyes.

So yeah, you were gonna roast him forever— but you were also gonna ruin him tonight.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, reaching down to tug his sweatpants lower.

Jisung was in the midst of catching his breath like he’d just run a marathon. “Y-yeah?”

“After I make you cum, will you tell me all about the sentient toaster anime?”

“…Maybe.”

+

“Okay,” Jisung panted, curling into your side like a baby koala clinging to its mother, “that was better than every hentai I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted into his shoulder. “High praise coming from the man who owns a $300 body pillow.”

“She was limited edition!” He quickly defends himself.

You playfully roll your eyes, kissing his flushed cheek. “So are you, Sungie. So are you.”

And yeah, Jisung still thought he was going to die a virgin once upon a time.

But now, wrapped in your arms with kiss marks littering his neck and your laughter still echoing in his ears— he was just really, really glad that he’s been proven wrong.

+

The moment you straddled Jisung and kissed him again, something shifted in the room.

And not just him having an outer-body experience for the sixth time in an hour.

You pulled back from his lips to look around, and the first thing you said was, “Okay, I have to say it- your room is the most aggressively virgin-coded space I’ve ever been in.”

“I told you not to look too closely!” He whined, burying his face into your neck as you giggled and craned to inspect the chaos surrounding you.

“Let’s see…” you started ticking things off on your imaginary list. “Anime wall scrolls? Check. Neon RGB light strips that make your room look like a gaming dungeon? Check. Is that Hatsune Miku in a glass case next to middle school spelling bee trophies?”

He groaned. “They’re collector’s items—”

“You were runner-up in 8th grade and you framed it.”

“I peaked early, okay?!”

You laughed so hard you fell forward onto his chest. “I love you.”

He froze. “Wh-what?”

You blinked. “I said I love you.”

He looked like you’d just offered him a lifetime supply of ramen and also stabbed him in the heart.

“…I love you too,” he whispered, barely getting it out before he hid under the covers.

You tugged the blanket back down just enough to see his red face. “Hey. Don’t hide. I wanna see you. Look so pretty when you blush.”

“PRETTY?!” He yelped.

You nodded in confirmation, brushing hair off his forehead. “Mmhm. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Especially like this- messy hair, pink cheeks, all breathless under me…”

He made the most broken noise you’d ever heard.

His hands gripped your hips like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying not to crush you or himself with how desperate he felt. His eyes were dark now, glazed and locked onto your every move as you slowly ground against the bulge in his sweats.

“This is real, right?” He meant to ask that in his head but blurted it out instead, voice slightly cracking. “This is really happening?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Feels pretty real to me, baby.”

At this point Jisung was spiraling.

Not just emotionally. No, that happened daily.

This was a full-system shutdown.

You’d tugged your shirt off without warning and smiled down at him like it was the most casual thing in the world, and now his hands were hovering awkwardly mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he had permission to touch you or if he was being Punk’d by the gods of horny delusion.

Your skin. Your smile. Your fucking tits.

And worse— worse— as your fingers brushed through his messy brown locks and your thighs shifted over his hips, his brain suddenly screamed,

‘I can’t believe I’m about to get pussy before Jeongin.’

Jeongin, his slightly cooler, slightly taller, still-a-virgin roommate who had three rotating Discord kittens and a suspicious amount of cologne but somehow still never scored.

Jeongin, who walked around shirtless after push-up sessions and said things like “it’s not rizz, it’s charisma” unironically. Jeongin, who once said “I want my first time to be passionate and respectful” but also accidentally downloaded a virus trying to pirate a hentai dating sim.

Jisung had always assumed if one of them was gonna make it out of virginhood first, it’d be the guy with the Uzumaki clan symbol tattooed on his ribs and a social life.

But no.

It was him. Han Jisung. The guy who owned a limited-edition anime titty mousepad and squeaked like a kettle when a girl touched his arm. And now? You were grinding up against him slowly, teasingly, and he was barely clinging to reality.

“Y/n,” he whimpered, clutching your waist like you’d float away. “Can I- can I eat you out? Pleasepleaseplease.”

You blinked rapidly.

“…You wanna—?”

“So bad,” he choked. “I think about it all the time. Like in class. And when I watch those ‘how to’ videos online. Like, the diagram ones, not the porn ones, though I watched those too- but like educationally! For science!”

You stared blankly.

He was sweating.

“Okay,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re really cute when you beg, y’know that?”

He nearly ascended.

You barely had time to giggle before he flipped you gently onto your back, hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down between your thighs like a man on a mission from God. His hands trembled as he slid your shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of your soaked panties.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “It’s real.”

You snorted. “What were you expecting? A hologram?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “I was starting to believe you were some kind of high-level succubus sent to punish virgins.”

You cupped his flushed face. “Wouldn’t be the worst punishment.”

And then he locks in— eyes meeting yours as he sticks his tongue out, licking a long, fat stripe across your clothed slit. Soft. Slow. As if he was trying to memorize you with his tongue, the heat of it makes you jolt. He’s not just tasting you— he’s learning you, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue like he’s trying to decode you one flick at a time. Every motion is precise yet hungry, like he’s writing a love letter in Morse code directly to your pussy. His glasses slipping adorably down the bridge of his nose, solely focused on pleasing you.

You gasped at the feel of him against you, the pressure of his mouth sent heat curling low in your belly, it was torture. Too much and not enough. You needed to feel him without the barrier of soaked lace clinging to your folds, and he must’ve read your mind, because he groaned like he was the one being denied. He kissed your pussy like he was thanking it, mouthing over your clothed core before dragging open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, leaving your skin slick with spit and bites to your inner thighs. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, everything about him felt so warm.

His teeth grazed you— playful, hungry— and your hips twitched as he whispered something nasty under his breath, half to himself, half to your cunt. By the time he slid your panties down, your thighs were trembling, tossing the flimsy fabric aside carelessly, like he didn’t care where they landed, only that they were gone. Then he buried his face between your legs like you’d been starving him for his entire life.

His tongue slipped between your folds, hot and greedy, lapping up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He flicked up and down with obscene precision, wet, messy, relentless— his nose bumping your clit as he moaned deep in his throat, like he needed this, like the taste of you could make or break him. You were soaked, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, and all he did was keep eating like he was trying to crawl inside you with his tongue.

You were loving the way it feels, every bit of you being hit with electricity. Your fingers tangled in his hair the second his mouth met your pussy, gripping tight, yanking just enough to make him groan into you like he was grateful for the pain. He never slowed down. If anything, it made him hungrier, tongue flattening against your slit before flicking up again, sloppy and fast and fucking filthy.

“God- fuck, you’re so messy,” you gasped, thighs twitching around his head. “You like that? Being my dirty little mouth toy?”

He moaned. Moaned. Into your pussy.

Nodding obediently, even as you tugged harder, grinding him closer. His glasses were long gone, hair disheveled, chin dripping with spit and slick as he slurred out something unintelligible against your clit. His tongue working overtime like he was trying to spell your name in cursive with every flick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, words caught in his throat. “I could live here.”

You threw your head back with a laugh— and then a sharp gasp as he got bolder, messier, more desperate. His hands kept you spread, his tongue curling and licking and worshipping like this was the only chance he’d ever get. He was sure that he’d jizz his pants just from giving you head— sure it’s pathetic, maybe even tragic. But he couldn’t help it. You were just too hot, too perfect, too fucking unreal, and the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your thighs squeezing around his head, it was better than anything his fist or filthy imagination had ever given him.

Your fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding onto him for anchorage. He looked up at you with glassy, pleading eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal and rosy cheeks. “Tell me I’m doing okay? Please? I read five articles about this. I practiced on a peach.”

You gasped. “You practiced on what?!”

“Nevermind. Just- keep calling me pretty. I swear I’ll die happy right here.”

You tugged his head back down, voice ragged and ruined.

“Then make me cum, pretty boy.”

And he did.

Like a man with something to prove.

Like a nerdy little virgin who had just found his true calling.

Your eyes closed shut at the feeling, falling apart at the seams. Every stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. You suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, all you saw were flashes of white invading your vision, cumming so hard that you almost saw stars. You cried out, high and broken, hands grasping at his head as you came hard against his mouth.

Jisung moaned through it— loud and messy— tongue never letting up, licking you through every twitch, every gasp, every last jolt of overstimulation until you were tugging at his hair for dear life and gasping for air. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded, face absolutely drenched, and smiling like he just beat the final boss of his entire life.

Somewhere in the past twenty minutes between Jisung nuzzling your thighs like a man starved and moaning like he was the one cumming, you had apparently blacked out, transcended the mortal plane, and been reborn as a puddle of girl.

Now, you lay sprawled across his unmade bed, fully clothed from the waist up and violently ruined from the waist down, chest heaving, eyes wet and glassy, one sock half-off your foot like a casualty of war.

And Jisung?

Jisung was cuddled up beside you like the world’s horniest golden retriever, chin resting on your shoulder, looking so smug and soft it was almost offensive.

You could still feel the ghost of his tongue between your legs.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” You croaked out, blinking up at the ceiling like it had answers.

Jisung tilted his head innocently. “What, that? Nah. I just… researched. A lot. And I… uh, practiced on a fruit.”

You turned your head slowly. “Was it the peach again?”

“…It might’ve also been a mango. For tongue agility. But I named it after you, so it was romantic!”

You tried to snort, but it came out as a wheeze. “I can’t feel my legs, Jisung.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead like he hadn’t just destroyed your entire nervous system with his mouth.

“I feel like I just unlocked a secret side quest,” he victoriously cheered. “‘Satisfy hot girlfriend until she sees God.’ Bonus XP for oral stamina. Am I your favorite now?”

You blinked at him, still fighting for air. “I don’t even know my name right now. You’ve ruined me.”

Jisung squeaked and tucked his face into your neck, practically vibrating with joy. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You should. I saw the afterlife. It was just a video game buffering screen.”

He laughed, then rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real. Your thighs are real. I had a girlfriend and head privileges all in the same night. I feel like I need to call my mom.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late. She deserves to know her son peaked.”

You smacked him lightly with the nearest pillow, still grasping for air, still dazed.

And then he smiled at you— so big, so genuine, so sickeningly in love that your tired heart clenched.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y’know,” he mumbled, brushing hair from your face. “Just say the word.”

You looked at him, the boy with anime figures on his shelf, lotion still on his desk, and love in his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m returning the favor.”

Mindlessly reaching into his sweats, the second your hand wrapped around his length, you froze.

“…Jisung.”

“H-huh?”

You gave a blank expression. Looking down. Looking back up.

“This is- you’re.. how is this even—?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he cried. “IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE, I’M ONLY 5’7!”

You stared at him like he just told you he had a second life as a Marvel superhero.

“Oh my god, I just assumed you’d be, like—”

“Average?!” He gasped, scandalized.

“No! I just- I mean- look at you! You’re this cute little nerd with anime socks and a keyboard with cat ears.. how are you packing all this?!”

You were in utter disbelief, there’s no way your sweet, stammering little boyfriend had been walking around with a dick that big and had no idea what kind of weapon he was carrying. Just raw, untapped dick potential— XL stats on a man who still apologizes when his knees crack too loud. Poor baby had been lugging around a whole third leg, and didn’t even know the first thing to do with it ;(

He simply shook his head, fully tomato red now, flailing beneath you like he was about to spontaneously combust. He watched you like he was afraid to blink. You pumped him once, slowly, watching him shiver under your touch. His lips parted. His back arched. You hadn’t even gotten started and he already looked completely ruined.

“Can I ride you?” You asked sweetly.

He nodded so fast his head could nearly fell off. “Yes. Yes, oh my god, yes- please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“I’ll uninstall League right now if you ask me to—”

You giggled as you rolled the condom down over him, letting his hands greedily grab at your thighs. He was panting, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, like his brain was overheating just from the anticipation.

Then you finally lowered yourself, sinking down onto him, gradually, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jisung mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, staying in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in utter paradise.

And he made the sound.

Like his soul physically left his body, floated into the air, and gave you a salute on the way out.

“F-fuck.. you’re tight, I can’t—” he clutched your waist, eyes fluttering. “I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go.” He desperately bucks into you, wanting to feel more movement from you.

You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jisung threw his head back against the pillow from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to burst on the spot.

You leaned down and give him a chaste kiss. “Best way to go, huh?”

He nods vehemently. “Please don’t stop. Ever. I’ll cancel my Crunchyroll subscription for you. I’ll stop buying figurines. I’ll even delete my Genshin account.”

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned helplessly as you continuously rode him like your life depended on it, breath hitching with every drag of your hips. He was so sensitive, so overwhelmed with it all that he couldn’t stop moaning into your mouth, mumbling broken, incoherent things like, “You feel soso good,” and “I can’t believe I get to have this,” and “Am I still breathing? No? Cool.”

You kissed down his jaw, showing no signs of stopping. You knew this was going to be one of those moments you’d both play on loop in your heads for a long, long time. “Still pretty, baby.”

He pants out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You simply keep moaning as you kept bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you, going even deeper. Your eyes reaching the back of your skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and showering him with endless compliments.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Ji.” You were a broken record at this point, nothing but your whines and his grunts filling the room. You felt tense, your clit was throbbing, the pressure build up making you dizzy. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you for a second, the way your tits bounced through your shirt, the way your long acrylics dug into his skin, he wasn’t even sure how he was still alive.

This was better than any of those fake scenarios that he’d absentmindedly create in his head, better than finally beating a level that he’d get stuck on for hours. He was in pure heaven, and he felt his high approaching any minute.

“I-I think ’m gonna cum,” he desperately choked out, rocking into you like a dog in heat.

Jisung was wrecked beneath you. Hands fisting into the sheets, mouth agape, his eyes rolling back every time you sank down fully and clenched around him.

“Fuck, please- please, I-I can’t,” he whimpered, voice shaky, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. His stomach tightening with every motion, trying so hard not to lose it.

You leaned forward and cupped his face, riding him a little harder, the slap of skin soft but steady. “You said you could take it, baby,” you whispered, voice syrup-sweet. “You begged for this.”

“I know, I- just- pleaseplease can I cum?” he panted, nearly on the verge of tears. His voice was raw, wrecked, like every second you didn’t let him was a cruel punishment. “’m so close, I’m- I’ll be good, I swear, just let me.. please—”

You seal his lips with yours, just to quiet the begging, grinning against his mouth as his hands fumbled for your hips again. He moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching helplessly under yours.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you beg,” you airly chuckled, pulling back just enough to look down at him. His eyes were wild, glazed over, the pretty sounds he made were like music to your ears.

“Th-thank you,” he sobbed, the gratitude in his voice borderline ridiculous. “’m gonna- I’m- oh my god—”

And with that, he finally let go. Releasing every last drop of his seed into the condom, muscles tensing up, gripping you like you were his only tether to reality. He looked down to see your arousal creating a white, creamy ring around the base of his thick cock, almost about to cum again just from the mere sight alone. Your legs felt like jello, you were weightless, collapsing onto his sweaty, sticky chest as you try to catch your breath, brain all foggy in your post-coital daze.

You didn’t expect him to cry.

Okay— not, like, full sobbing. But a little misty-eyed? A little “what did I do to deserve this?” A sparkle in his gaze as you lay draped across his chest, both of you blissed out and glowing in the soft, RGB-lit afterglow?

Yeah.

He was trying so hard not to sniffle.

“You okay, baby?” You murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw.

Jisung nodded, eyes wide and glassy. “I just… I thought my first time would be like, awkward. Or disappointing. Or I’d accidentally sneeze into someone’s mouth and get banned from touching boobs forever.”

You laughed against his skin. “Definitely didn’t happen.”

“No,” he grins, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “this was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined in my head. Better than my first SSR pull in Genshin. Better than when I tried the seasonal spicy chicken ramen and lived.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “That’s a pretty long list of victories to beat.”

“You’re the only victory that matters.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned playfully, “who is this smooth man and what has he done with my sweaty, anime-obsessed virgin boyfriend?”

He huffed, burying his face into your hair. “He’s still sweaty and obsessed with anime. He just… also happens to be madly in love with you.”

You smiled into his chest.

“Also,” he added, completely deadpan, “I think I saw the shadow realm.”

You snorted. “When?”

“When you said I was pretty and grabbed my—” His voice cracked. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t say it. My ancestors are watching.”

You giggled, shifting to lay next to him and intertwining your fingers with his.

And for a while, it was just quiet. Safe. His hand slowly brushing over your side. Your heartbeat syncing with his. The faint whir of his PC fan still spinning in the corner because, of course, he never actually shut it down.

Then he jolted upright suddenly, as if he remembered something urgent.

“Wait.”

You blinked up at him, amused. “What?”

He slid off the bed, naked except for one, singular sock and scurried to his cluttered desk. You watched, dazed and curious, as he fumbled with drawers and cracked open a cabinet that definitely shouldn’t have had food in it.

Finally, he turned around triumphantly. Holding out a white, rectangular box.

“Pocky.”

You stared. “…Seriously?”

“I always imagined I’d give my girlfriend Pocky after her first time with me,” he said solemnly. “Like a weird little anime reward.”

You sat up and grinned. “You are a weird little anime reward.”

He climbed back into bed beside you and opened the box, pulling out one, white chocolate-dipped stick and offering it with both hands like it was a sacred gift.

You bit it gently from his fingers.

“Mmm. You’re such a good boy,” you purred with a playful smile, “giving me snacks after ruining me.”

He short-circuited. Almost choking on his own Pocky. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope so.”

You kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then— just to mess with him— you whispered, “Still thinking about how big you are, by the way.”

Jisung made a noise so high-pitched it could only be heard by dogs. He flopped face down into the sheets, flailing helplessly while you laughed and straddled his back.

“You have to stop saying things like that,” he muffled into the pillow.

“Why?” You asked sweetly, brushing his hair back. “You’re my pretty boy. I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He peeked up at you, still pink, still glowing.

“…Promise you’re mine too?”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, soft and slow.

he’s right though, you both know he is. you tighten your stomach again, clenching down on his big cock once more just to see the look on his face, that wide-eyed wonder, a sliver of that pretty pink tongue dragging across equally pretty lips. chan squeezes your thighs, your waist. you can hear the sound of his feet rustling restlessly on the sheets.

chan’s hips buck up to meet yours and he huffs, huffs again. the soft squelch of your sopping cunt and the clap of sweaty skin is more beautiful than any song he could ever make. he would know — he’s tried. there’s no amount of sensual gasping he embarrassingly records or creaking bedframe samples that could compare to the music you make together.

his lip curls. every time you lift up on your knees, his eyes lock on the most wonderful sight. a sweet little ring of cream right around the base of his cock, sticky and tangy. his mouth waters.

“you’re torturing me, butterfly,” he breathes. sweet torture. beautiful, blissful agony.

it makes you laugh, some cute little menacing giggle that scares him half to death. chan’s brain almost leaks out through his ears when you lift up onto your tiptoes and brace your palms behind you on his thick thighs — you see it happen, watch his mouth widen and his eyes flutter closed at the first roll of your hips in your new position. you’re not sure how long you can keep this up. your calves burn, your hips ache even with chan’s deft hands now cupping the globes of your ass to help your movements. he’s so fucking deep like this, it feels like a lifetime before you lift up high enough to reach the tip of that ruddy cock.

your elbows almost give out when you lower yourself down onto him again. your clit buzzes, so wet and hot and sensitive that the cool air of the room is almost too much to bear.

“‘s it good for you?” you ask. there’s sweat dripping down your forehead and catching on your lashes. you flutter them, and chan’s hips rut upwards. “da- daddy, do you like me like this?”

your voice takes on a pleading tone, rising at the end into something frantic. you fuck him that way too, frantic, desperate, bouncing on your toes and grinding your hips despite the burn in your legs. all that does is spur you on — the burn hurts good, the strain just means your hard work is paying off.

“feels- ngh! feels fucking unreal. baby. baby, baby i love you like this. love you, love when you- when you use me, use me to feel good. yeah? you like it too, yeah?”

your head bobbles in some poor excuse of a nod. you squeeze your fingers into the meat of his thighs and he groans. he’s sweating there, your palms aren’t much better, your grasp is slipping. the crack of his palm onto your bouncing ass pulls a shocked squeal from your lips. chan grabs the fatty skin he just hit, rakes his own nails from where the pain is blooming all the way to the pudgy skin of your hip. he wants an answer — you know better than to leave your daddy wanting.

“sorry, sorry- feels- oh, chris, feels too good that i can’t-! feels so good, love using you like this, daddy.”

he’s pink all the way down his chest, strawberry pink from forehead down. his ears are turning such an alarming shade of red at the sight of your pussy eating up his cock that it does something dangerous to you, pride rearing it’s lion-maned head knowing you’re still able to get him blushing bright despite your years together. it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve been with each other since, chan still looks at you in amazement just as he did the first time.

you curl forward then, incapable of leaning so far away from him any longer. your toes pop as your knees settle back on the mattress, and your shoulders slink as chan’s arms wrap tight around your back. there’s nothing like it — nothing like the press of your slick chests together, nothing like his nose bumping yours when he goes in for a deep, slow kiss. it’s magnetic.

“baby, you’re just sucking me in.”

it sounds like a purr, so sensual and sleepy, breathed right underneath your jawline. chan kisses you there; he sucks branding kisses into your skin, laps hotly at your beading sweat.

you’re sucking him in because it’s where he belongs. you’re sucking him in because your hole is his to play with, a stress toy, a warm home to relax in just for your daddy.

“oh, sweetheart,” he whimpers. were you talking out loud? you must have been. there’s no other explanation for the way chan’s hips rut listlessly into yours and those pretty, plump lips begin to babble. “daddy’s- daddy’s baby, daddy’s fucking baby. fuck, i- nnnuh! ohmygosh, i wanna- i wanna cum for you, i wanna make you proud and cum for you. need to- fill- fill you up, yeah, yeah- gonna. gonna. you’ll- take it? you’ll take it for daddy?”

you began nodding the moment he opened his mouth. you’ll take whatever he gives you. you want it, you’ve earned it. you’re so fucking close that the feeling of him cumming inside you must be enough to get you there too.

“please,” you sob. your fingers curl into his silky hair. “please, inside! please give me your cum. i want it- i want it, daddy, please let me have it!”

one of the most insane things about daddy!channie is that he can punish you without force and it works. he doesn’t spank you, or let his anger get the best of him and fuck your cunt until it’s sore. no, no. he knows you’ll enjoy being used like that. so punishing you often looks like this: one hand gripping your hip. his hand holding his cock between your pussy and panties, tip barely brushing against your clit with every little movement of his hips. and he ate you out and stopped just before you could cum so your cunt is all nice and messy and wet for him.

you try to push him away because he's been at it for so long, alternating between fingering your cunt, eating you out, and rubbing his cock against the slick lips of your pussy. every time you get close to coming he stops. his teasing is just enough to make your eyes all watery from the stimulation, and he’s just attentive enough to leave you hanging every time  you get close to the edge.

"too much, daddy, 's too much..."

"c'mon. be a good girl for daddy, yeah?"

he pushes your hair outta your face and grips your chin, thumbing across your jaw. "i know you can, baby." and if channie says you can then you can! so you lie there and take it like his good girl. that’s all he wants, is for you to realize that you’re still his good girl even when you’re being punished. good girls don’t act out and break rules.

that realization makes you mutter out an "i'm sorry, daddy."

chris doesn't stop as he responds. he knew you’d get there eventually, all it took was a little bit of coaxing. "sorry for what, babygirl?"

"for acting out earlier..."

"yeah?" he muses along, both hands gently resting on your hips. he finally stops rutting his cock against your pussy. he lets a hand trail down to your clit, slipping in between your soaked panties to rub circles on your clit. "gonna apologize to daddy properly?" 

you nod, and it takes you longer than it should to force the words out of your mouth. he's got you half dumb with all his teasing. "i'm sorry for acting out daddy."

chris smiles. he’s got a soft look on his face as he leans down to kiss your lips. "that's my girl." he praises, and sits back to admire the mess in your panties, the dazed look on your face, and the way your hands untangle themselves from the blankets to ask for his.

there's no hesitation on his end. all he wanted was for you to learn your lesson. it looks like you have. he can never resist you for too long. his hands grab yours, his thumbs trace soothingly against the back of your hand. 

"daddy," you murmur and look into his eyes. his attention shifts from your hands to your face. chris is so attentive with you. he’s also so amused by your apology. it’s what he wanted, but it never fails to make him giddy and proud. 

"what is it, baby?"

"can i cum... please?"

chan laughs. "nobody was stopping you, pretty girl." he definitely was, but you guess he’s right. he never said you couldn’t cum. he just stopped before you ever had the chance.

you think for a moment before asking another question.

"can you make me cum?" that’s an entirely different question. smart girl.

he can’t resist you. but he can't immediately reward you with whatever you want. what’s the point of punishing you if he’s just going to reward you immediately after? 

compromise. that's his specialty.

"you're gonna cum on my fingers or daddy's not gonna help you at all. understand?"

you frown, but nod. "i understand, daddy" you know him better than to ask for more, especially after you pissed him off. and he makes you cum so hard you're unable to do anything but lie there for a good minute afterwards.

maybe he did reward you a little too thoroughly… oops.

and aftercare with him is so so sweet too. he makes sure you're all clean, that you have food if you're hungry, water regardless of if you're thirsty or not, that you're cozy at his side. he can't keep his hands off you, can't stop praising and checking up on you.

he says things like: "you're such a good girl f'me... always such a good job."

"wasn't too much, was i? no... not too rough?"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab keeps gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab hug gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab

"Gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab, gnab, gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab...gnab gnab gnab Gnab $120 gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnabod gnab gnab Gnab gnab $20 gnab gnab guys," Gnab roll gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "Gnab gnab $40. GNAB gnab gnab gnab $120 gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab."

Gnabp

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab glgnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnabod gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.”

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab, GNAB gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab.”

Gnab, gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab…?”

“Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab,” Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“Gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab.” Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

“GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.” Gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, gnab gnab means Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, "GNAB...GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gears gnab gnab gnab gnab "GNAB gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab...Gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab--" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab: gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab neighbor gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab 'gnab,' GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab,"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab Gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab? Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab, gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab,"

"Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab--"

"--GNAB gnab,"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB--GNAB--" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab Gnab Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab--

"...gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gna...gnab?" Gnab gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"GNAB gnab, 'Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.'" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

Gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab."

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab gnab?"

Gnab. Gnab. Gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab,"

Gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab?"

Gnab. Gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab?" Gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab? Gnab?" Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab, GNAB gnab--" Gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab--Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab gnab gnab--"

"Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab! Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab-gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB. Gnab. Gnab."

"GNAB gnab gnab, Gnab. GNAB gnab, gnab. GNAB gnab--" Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB--" Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab.

"Gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab! Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab!"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab! Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab--"

"Gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab...?" Gnab gnab.

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. "Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab...gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB...gnab gnab...gnab gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab, gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab gnab, Gnab gnab--"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab."

"Gnab. Gnab,"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab? Gnab gnab none gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab?"

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab. GNAB gnab GNAB gnab gnab, gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab."

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab," Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, "GNAB gnab gnab. GNAB gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, Gnab. Gnab GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab-gnab gnab gnab gnab--"

Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab--gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab--gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, GNAB gnab--" Gnab, gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"--Gnab gnab gnab gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab Gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab,"

"GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, GNAB gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab...gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab...gnab."

"Gnab gnab gnab gnab," Gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab." Gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab gnab gnab Gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab "gnab gnab" gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab-gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

Gnab, Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab.

"Gnab, Gnab," Gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab, gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab gnab. "GNAB gnab gnab,"

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