#chenle headcanons

—huang renjun

renjun’s biggest problem? he thinks rationality fixes everything. so when the argument begins, he goes straight into explanation mode, arms crossed, voice even, expression unreadable. “i’m not attacking you. i’m just explaining why it doesn’t make sense,” he says, which somehow makes it worse. you’re emotional. he’s logical. it’s oil and water. the more upset you get, the more confusion flickers across his face, like he genuinely can’t grasp why you’re reacting that way. but then he sees it: the way you look away, shoulders tightening, eyes glossy. and something in him stops cold. his expression softens instantly. he uncrosses his arms, takes a step closer, voice dropping to something fragile. “hey… don’t cry. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. he pulls you into a quiet hug, one arm around your waist, the other stroking your hair. “i wasn’t trying to belittle you. i just… talk stupid when i care too much.” and he holds you until your breathing steadies.

—lee jeno

jeno is a logical-first, feelings-second kind of guy. and when you argue, you feel it more than ever. you’ll raise your concern and he’ll immediately respond with something like, “okay, but objectively—” and you want to scream. he doesn’t mean to be cold. he thinks offering solutions is being caring. but sometimes his explanations sound like he’s dismissing your feelings, even when he isn’t. when you snap, “can you stop being a robot for one second?” jeno shuts down. not angrily, just internalizing. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment like he’s recalibrating. when he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet, almost careful: “i’m not trying to invalidate you. i just don’t know how to handle it when you’re upset. i’m trying.” he sits next to you, hands clasped because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. “tell me what you need from me,” he says honestly. and once you explain it, he really listens and his whole demeanor shifts. “okay,” he says softly. “i can do that. i want to do that.” his effort is clumsy but genuine… and it melts you every time.

—lee haechan

haechan jokes when he’s nervous. which is the worst combination during an argument. you’re upset, and he keeps trying to lighten the mood, tossing out comments like, “okay grumpy, relax,” not realizing he’s pouring gasoline on fire. when you finally snap, his face falls — like he genuinely didn’t expect it. around the boys he stays composed, pretending it’s fine, but the second you’re alone, he’s unusually quiet. he keeps glancing at you, eyes softening with every second. “what did i do?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. and when you tell him he hurt your feelings, his entire expression shifts — guilt taking over everything. he moves closer, tucking himself into your space, arms wrapping around your waist from the side. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs into your shoulder. “i should’ve read the room.” he kisses your cheek, nose, temple — tiny apologies scattered across your skin. “don’t shut me out, okay? i hate when you’re upset and i can’t fix it.” and he doesn’t let go until you melt into him.

—na jaemin

jaemin gets quiet. painfully quiet. he isn’t cold, he isn’t annoyed — he’s hurt. he sits still, eyes lowered, thinking too much all at once. when you snap at him, he absorbs it silently, nodding once like he deserves it. “i didn’t know i made you feel like that,” he says softly, which somehow breaks you more. he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t defend himself. he just retreats inward, processing. you move away and he follows a few steps, not suffocating, but close enough to show he cares. “i don’t want us to fight,” he murmurs. “tell me how to fix this.” and when you do, he listens like you’re giving him sacred instructions. he reaches for your hand slowly, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “come here,” he whispers, pulling you into a slow, grounding hug. his chin rests on your head, and he holds you like he’s trying to calm both your hearts. “i’m not going anywhere,” he adds quietly. “even when we’re like this.”

—zhong chenle

chenle reacts fast. talks fast. argues fast. he’ll notice something tiny, as trivial as your mismatched socks, or your forgotten umbrella. he'll comment immediately without thinking. on a good day, you laugh it off. on a bad one, like today, it grates. when you tell him to stop nagging, he scoffs, “i’m not nagging, i’m helping,” without realizing how sharp it sounds. but the moment he notices you shivering in the cold, or your eyes watering, or your silence stretching too long — he stops mid-sentence. “wait. are you actually upset?” his voice softens in a way it rarely does. he shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “i’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes darting away shyly. “i didn’t mean to be annoying.” he holds your hand as you walk, thumb rubbing circles apologetically. “i just worry about you. too much, probably.” and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart wobble.

—park jisung

jisung panics during arguments. he hates raised voices, even slightly sharp tones. the second he feels tension, he starts stumbling over his words, eyes widening in confusion and concern. “wait—what did i do? i swear i didn’t mean—” he keeps reaching toward you and pulling back, unsure if touching you will make it worse. when you look away, his whole face crumples. “don’t… don’t be mad at me,” he says quietly, almost pleading. he sits in front of you, knees drawn in, trying so hard to understand. “just tell me,” he begs softly. “i’ll fix it, i promise.” and as soon as you explain, he exhales shakily and scoots closer, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “i’m really sorry,” he clings to you while he whispers. “i don’t want to lose you.”

you met chenle, when you were rushing to your second part-time job,fate seemed to have other plans. you crashed directly into a fancy black bentley parked by the curb, the impact wasn't huge. the dent, however, was definitely noticeable.

when the owner of the car appeared zhong chenle, you apologized, said you'd pay for this, with what money..? well chenle was intrigued. he stared at you as if he was scanning you completely raw. it almost feel like you were naked in front of him, he seemed amused, a faint smirk tugged on his lips, instead of looking angry, he looked suspiciously intrigued. he pulled out his phone, "give me your number," your eyes widened.

"my number?"

"so i can contact you later," he replied simply. "about the damages."

when chenle finally contacted you, you expected a repair bill or possibly a lawsuit, but not you sitting in front of him in a private dining room, and covered in luxurious silk dress you'd been given to wear by him.

this started as chenle using the dented bentley as leverage to force you out on dates with him. twice, or maybe thrice a week.

chenle spent money on you as if it meant absolutely nothing to him, he'd take you to the most expensive restaurants in the city, your closet slowly filled with luxury clothes, high-end makeup, gold jewellery boxes arrived at your doorstep.

chenle thought, it was natural, if something caught your eye, he'd buy it. if you mentioned wanting something once, it would somehow end up in your hands a few days later.

it was the fact that no matter how much money chenle spent, he still looked at you like you were worth far more.

chenle would, on a completely random tuesday afternoon, tell you to close your eyes before you could question him, he'd carefully fasten a diamond-studded necklace around your neck, he would gift you jewellery the same way most people gave flowers.

chenle would ask you to point at any building you liked, knowing there was almost no chance he wouldn’t buy it for you.

chenle could give you every luxury in the world, but what he truly wanted was the luxury of having you, feeling you, raw, unfiltered and bare.

chenle would clear out the entire VIP swimming area with a single call, just to fuck you in various places. he starts by bending you over the edge of the pool, his cock pushes into your warm walls first, stretching you open while his palm cracks across your arm, the sting shoots through you, making your walls clamp down.

he would groan at your tightness, spanking you again, harder. watching the red bloom across your skin.

chenle, then would pull out, and presses the thick head against your ass. he works himself inch by inch, the burn mixing with a deep, lewd pleasure you've never felt before.

chenle would flip you onto one of the lounge chairs next, spreading your thighs wide. this angle lets him grind deep into your ass, while his thumb circles your clit. you feel him everywhere, the stretch new and overwhelming. he leans down and, spits on your pussy before sliding to two digits inside, fucking both holes at once until you're sobbing from the intensity.

chenle, then lies his back on the wide daybed. his expensive pants shimmed down to his thighs, he tells you to climb on him. you sink dowm onto his thick length, taking him inch by inch, the diamond necklace swings between your bare breasts with every bounce. he watches your body move. the way your thighs tremble, the way your pussy drips onto the dark fabric of his pants.

chenle would grab your hips when you start to lose your rhythm and slams you harder. his free hand comes up and shoves two fingers into your mouth, you slightly taste yourself from the previous intrusion of your walls. he pushes his digits past your tongue, until you gag around them. tears spill instantly, your expensive mascara running in black streaks down your cheeks. he keeps his fingers there, making you gag and drool while you ride him, the wet sounds mixing with the slap of skin.

you come hard, squirting all over his pants. the liquid soaks through expensive material and he grins almost evilly. he flips you onto your stomach on the daybed, yanking your hips up. and drives back to your ass without mercy, "look how messy you are, doll." each thrust is a punishment and reward at once. his hand lands on your ass again and again, until your skin is hot and tender.

chenle pulls out, only to shove his cock into your mouth, making you taste yourself and him together. you gag around his length, tears flowing freely now. he jolts your head and fucks your throat until spit runs down your chin and drips onto the diamond necklace.

chenle would make you beautiful and doll you up just so he could be the one to ruin you exquiesitely and lavishly. the contrast of his tenderness and brutality keeps you floating. he kisses the tears from your cheeks even as he spanks you repeatedly, whispering how perfect you look ruined for him.

the expensive lingerine chenle bought for you was a pointless extravagence, it lies forgotten on the marble, straps torn, the real luxury being the way your body takes everything he inflicts. he knows you're just as fucked up as he is.

.

.

He wonders when you’ll arrive…

You were supposed to be here already. To save him from his friends and their incessant banter.

As Chenle watches the rain droplets running down the restaurant window, he suddenly wishes he never told you to go ahead and have your shopping day alone in the district. He brought you to his city and yet, you weren't even here to enjoy it with him.

But you had pleaded so prettily…

“It's not like I’m going away for good Chenle, I promise I'm just going to shop in the district for the day,” You were already interlocking your van cleef bracelet around your wrist (a bracelet that he bought) and Chenle had watched from his post sitting at the desk. The hotel room was already littered with Chenle's wires from the various gadgets he had set up. His PlayStation was plugged in the moment you two checked in.

“Besides, I'm sure you'll want to enjoy your day off before you're tied down with schedules for the rest of our stay here. Mark said promo in China would be no joke.”

Chenle had spent the morning of his day off consumed by a new video game, but at the sound of your departure, he lowered his headsets and swivelled in his chair to watch you. His eyes glazed over the sundress that hugged your body with my trepidation and much suspicion. His headphones hung lazily from his neck.

“Who’s taking you shopping?” He hoped his inquiry sounded less like a crazed control freak and more like innocent questioning.

A knowing kind of smile had blossomed across your face then as you stalked towards him with your hands behind your back.

“Why?” you tucked a stray braid behind your ear as you neared him, “You jealous?”

Chenle's body immediately tensed when you plopped yourself on your lap.

“Don't be stupid,” he hid behind his usual snark but you could feel his tense muscles shift underneath you. "We have dinner tonight with the others." He was significantly smaller in stature compared to the volume that accentuated your curves but his hands wrapped tentatively around your waist all the same. Chenle's eyes were wide as he looked up at you and his hands held a slight tremor as they rubbed feather light circles on your hips.

“Where did you even buy this bracelet?”

You froze on top of him. “uh, church-”

“They sell van cleef necklaces at church?”

“W-Well..." you swallow thickly, your arms encircling around his neck. "It was a sale! Yes, a church sale, the money's going to charity! Praise the lord-”

“The only charity my money is going to is to you.” he buries his face into your neck and you squirm when he wiggles his finger into your side, eliciting a wave of giggles.

“Who's taking you shopping?” He asked again.

“Well, you are, Chenle,” Your words barely registered in his fogged up bain because you were bending down now, and your lips were tickling the side of his ear as your left hand drifted down his clothed torso, “This is my first time in Beijing,” Your whispers sent the boy hurtling into that very primal part of his brain that was only filled with one thought and one thought alone.

“You want me to have a good time, don't you? That's why you invited me?” Chenle's brain had been reduced to mush and his grip on reality was fumbling by the minute. All he could think about was your hand lining his boxers.

“Yea-” his voice cracks and he lifts his hips ever so slightly, trying to steer your hand to the right place, “You want me to have a good time on this trip right?”

You were absolutely diabolical. Watching his eyes flutter shut as the Beijing sun drifted through the curtains, extenuating every needy twitch along his visage.

In complete vulnerablility he said, “Yeah,” he whispered again, “Fuck, I’ll give you anything, I’ll do anything, just… carry on-” The smirk on your face grew until you were swiping your palm over the hard bulge in his sweatpants only momentarily before you drifted your hand to his left pocket. The little amount of contact was enough to have Chenle raggedly exhaling as his hips stuttered and a rash shiver wracked through his spine.

You sit back up again, on your haunches, still seated on his lap with his wallet dangling from your fingers.

“Shopping allowance, please and thank you,” You hand him the wallet with a cheeky smile and a bowed head.

Chenle rolls his eyes, turning his head to stare out at the Beijing metropolitan beyond. His whisper is starkly incredulous as he mumbles a quiet “This Girl…”

“Quick,” you had urged, now bouncing in silent anticipation as you waited for him to hand over what it is you needed. In that very second, Chenle's hand digs into your hip. “Don't do that,” his fingers dug into your hips, immediately stopping your excited bounce, “Or you’re really not going shopping,”

In hindsight, Chenle should have perhaps withheld his card and forced you on this dinner with friends. However, he also couldn't deny the very suspicious ache in his gut that curled and coiled during these times when you needed him. It makes his head dizzy with lust.

He wished he didn't let you go.

Despite the hushed cacophony filling the Dim Sum restaurant, Chenle cannot help but think his table is the loudest of them all. Haechan and Jeno’s back-and-forth does nothing to allay that slight trickle of embarrassment that crawls up the back of Chenle's neck and he lightly rubs his face with both hands, wanting nothing more than to sink into the restaurant's leather seats. He raises his phone, perfectly content with tapping away at his social media while they bickered around him.

"You're gonna cover our bill.” Jeno says very sternly as the bottom of his beer glass hits the wooden table. His lips are pursed as he swallows his drink, but his eyes are dead serious. “Jaemin covered it in Copenhagen.” Jeno's finger prods at his chest hidden under a thick fleece sweater, “I did Rotterdam. You're covering the bill, Haechan.” Jeno rarely had to say anything above an unreasonable volume, and Chenle was much the same in that regard. When Jeno said something the first time, people usually listened. He rarely had to speak up for a second time but Chenle supposed that was why God made Haechan. To infuriate Jeno.

Chenle sinks further in his seat as he immediately scrolls into your chat. He types his ‘Where are you?’ with the urgency of a broken man and he frowns when you don't respond within the immediate minute.

Chenle did not like that.

He much preferred you when you were messaging him compulsively, especially when the two of you found yourselves apart.

Your text arrives, but not soon enough.

[17:21, You] Are you having a good time, baby?

[17:22, Chenle] No, Haechan and Jeno are acting like hooligans in front of everyone and Jisung thinks I don't notice him leaning over my shoulder to read this text.

Chenle looks up at the boy next to him, a very unimpressed deadpan painted across his face.

[17:30, You] Tell Jiji I say hi

[17:30, Chenle] No.

“Tell her I said Hi back,” Jisung whispers. He winces, not even a second later, grabbing his arm and lightly cradling the spot where Chenle just shoved him.

“Ah!” Haechan hollers from across the table, “Kids, no fighting-”

“Focus on paying the bill.” Jeno mumbles.

Chenle doesn't look up from your chat as his hands suffocate the little digital box. He's breathing heavily, suddenly uncomfortable with this little hypothetical crush you have on Jisung. He knew you were joking to piss him off. You knew that he knew you were joking to piss him off, but Chenle still rolls his eyes anyway. He tucks his chin into his hoodie as he grumbles.

[17:39, Chenle] I'd seriously rather be here with you

[17:40, You] Aww babe I miss you too

[17:40, Chenle] How much?

[17:41,You] Like… Alot, Idk?

[17:42, Chenle] Show me

[17:42, You] Show you what?

[17:43, Chenle] How much you miss me

[17:44, You] i'm still trying on dresses if you wanna see

Chenle's eyes widen slightly as a zap of excitement strikes through his stomach. He quenches his dry mouth with his beer.

Meanwhile, this round has continued to go unpaid with Haechan, ever the stubborn bull.

Almost immediately, a Facetime call lights up his screen and Chenle immediately rises from his seat, scooting out of the booth and heading straight for the bathroom.

"Okay, well I don't feel like paying for anyone's food," Haechan folds his arms in defiance and juts his nose up to the sky, all while turning his head very smugly.

It's the last thing Chenle hears before he's answering your facetime as he slinks into one of the bathroom stalls.

His phone is lowered, his brows furrowed in frustration. All of that eases away however, the second your face is projected onto his screen. From the mess in the background he can see you're back at the hotel.

The way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you should've been incredibly embarrassing but Chenle doesn't care, because you've propped the phone on a shelf, giving him a more-than-perfect view of the dress you were trying on.

“How’s my little monster doing?” You ask distractedly as you zipped up the dress. Chenle wishes he was there to help you zip it back down. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend wasn't in the business of appearing like a lovesick puppy. He only leans his back against the stall as he says, “Where are you? I thought you'd be here by now?”

“You actually believed I'd willingly want to have dinner with your friends?” You give him an unimpressed look as you throw your braids over your shoulder, admiring the cocktail dress in the mirror.

“There's only so much flirting from Jaemin I can handle, Chenle-”

“Jaemin's the reason you ditched m- wait.” Chenle murmurs distractedly as he brings the phone closer to his face. You watch with a smirk as he says, “Turn around.” You do as he says, turning slowly to show him how this particular design snuggly around your curves. His breathing is heavy.

“I look good, right?”

In classic Chenle fashion, he skirts past your fishing for a compliment to directly say, “That looks expensive.”

“But I look so pretty.”

“Take it off-” there's an urgency in his voice that fuels you with an immense sense of power. You knew it was a good dress. It's better than good. The manner in which the sweetheart neckline dipped was anything but innocent, and you knew Chenle would like it.

“Why don't you come take it off for me?”

A wispy curse drifts out of his mouth as he throws his head back against the wall before he says. “I'll be there soon.”

Chenle is rushing out the bathroom as he pockets his phone, carelessly swerving past the other tables in search of his own.

The bickering has yet to cease. He's so happy you're saving him.

“And where are you going?” Renjun asks with a frown on his face.

“The hotel.” Is all Chenle says as he slips on his letterman jacket. Below him, Jisung blushes a deep red, Having clearly understood the implication of Chenle's words.

"You're a child."

"I'll be a child." Comes Haechan's rebuttal, "A child that's not covering the bill-"

Chenle observes this as he stands before the table, ready to head out.

"Jesus, stop being kids!" Chenle finds his voice somewhere amongst the rubble of the conversation. "'I’ll cover this round, just stop fighting, God-”

Chenle's hand is already reaching into his denim jeans, patting idly for his wallet.

“Would you look at that,” Jeno says, sending Haechan the deadliest glare he could muster, “An actual adult.”

“Doesn't Chenle's dad like… Own the city?” Haechan deadpans, “So I expected him to pay anyway-”

This statement only brought about a fresh conflict, which Chenle disrupts with his slightly deflated interjection.

“Uh… guys…” One by one, they all snap their eyes towards him and Chenle's shoulders sag. A sheepish kind of smile crinkles Chenle's eyes.

“One of you are gonna have to cover the bill- I don't have my card,”

“Why don't you have your card?” comes Jisung's interjection before Mark slips in, “That's very irresponsible of you-”

Chenle was already giving them a farewell salute before turning his back on the table.

He's typing hurriedly across the screen of his phone, already ordering an Uber.

“Just charge the bill to my room,” he tells the man stationed at the front of the house. They exchanged the necessary details before he's off.

-

You know how Chenle got when it comes to money. You know how he got when you spent it. More specifically, when you spent his. You're not sure where that kind of desire came from, perhaps from some part of his brain that wanted to take care of you.

Since you last spoke, you've been seated idly on the bed with jittery nerves, your nails tapping against the water bottle. The relics of your shopping spree sit idly in the corner and you watch yourself idly in the mirror. It's a floor-to-ceiling that sat directly adjacent to the bed.

You're nervous. That much is clear. Bubbling just beneath the surface, however, is sheer excitement.

The ice cold water flowing down your throat had done little in quelling the heat that had ignited along the expanse of your skin. Everything feels too tight suddenly. This tiny cocktail you had slipped into, suddenly feels like a fucking torture chamber. Even your braids feel tight in their high ponytail. You need to get rid of it.

[18:03, Chenle] Open the door

You've already zipped the dress down when his notification flashes across your screen. Your feet are muted against the carpet as you open the door.

Your boyfriend stands on the other side of the threshold, dressed in his simple grey sweatpants and letterman jacket. A single gold chain glimmers from the fluorescents.

“We answer the door naked now?” He raises his eyebrows, hair damp with rain as he asses you in nothing but your lace underwear.

“Well I was undressing when you arrived-” Your words immediately drown under the weight of the kiss that Chenle crashes against your lips. He immediately crowds you by the doorway, pushing the door shut with his foot as he pushes you up against the wall, his tall frame hunching over yours. His hands greedily sink into your hips and his jaw is tight as he peppers kisses everywhere.

He kisses you desperately, and fervently, it barely registers when he's pulling away.

“Thought I told you to keep the dress on.” He's rubbing dizzying circles against your cheek as you look up at him with hazy eyes.

He wanted to fucking eat you alive.

“You were taking too long,” you pat his hand still firmly on your cheek, “Take your shoes off.” You lightly coax him out of his sneakers before smiling up at him with your lopsided swollen lips and smeared lipstick. Your hand interlocks into his as you lead him deeper into the apartment and he follows like a limp piece of skin, a helpless puppy with no sense of direction other than your safe navigation. “You have lipstick on your face,” You giggle before leading you both deeper into the hotel suite.

“I don't care-” Chenle says, before immediately setting his eyes on the myriad bags sitting idly in a corner. All sorts of labels were affirmed on the cardboard faces of each bag and Chenle looked back at you. You at least had the gall to appear sheepish, wrapping your arms around your exposed stomach like a child awaiting her scolding.

“Who possibly needs this many clothes?” There's a scolding edge to Chenle's voice as he shakes off his letterman jacket. He walks closer towards you. Your heart rate picks up as you avoid eye contact. Choosing instead to keep your gaze on Chenle's chest, which, almost far more harrowing, is being covered by a thin compression shirt. He looked borderline edible.

Your panties are drenched at the very sight of him.

The frown on Chenle's face is teasing, as he locks his hands behind his back, only waltzing closer and closer. His eyes narrow.

You're tripping backwards onto the bed, appearing even smaller underneath a looming, Chenle. He must be drunk.

You're tilting your head up at him, “How much did you and your friends have to dri-”

“Are you already wet?” That sentence alone allows you to conclude quite quickly that Chenle and his friend did, in fact, have a lot to drink. He licks his lips before descending on you until he's hovering slightly above you with his single chain dangling just above your head. There was no concrete way to deal with confident, drunk Chenle, you just sort of, had to take it all in stride until he was sober enough to be embarrassed about his forwardness.

You try to wiggle yourself out from under his frame but Chenle was already beginning to leave wet kisses on your neck, licking and sucking at the skin while producing the most obscene sounds known to man. He groans when he slots his hips between your steepeled legs. He lowers his hips to yours, dragging his clothed dick along the surface of your cunt and you moan involuntarily.

"Greedy, Greedy girl," he whispers, still burying his head between your neck as he humps against your clothed core. Your hips stutter upwards on their own accord, your jaw locked far too tight.

"Spending all my money like that-" he scolds, shaking his head in dismay.

"M'sorry," his snickers has your lips forming into a small pout.

"You're not sorry," his lips are inches from yours, "You're just gonna do it again-"

"-and again, and again..." you bio at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.

Chenle's arms grow weak. "Shit-" he lets his hand slip between your legs as he continues with his face buried in your collarbone, exposing you to the fresh, oceanic scent of his shampoo as his lips begin to lick over your clothed breasts.

“I need you wet-” he mumbles, “Don't think I can waste time on foreplay tonight, pretty girl.”

You unconsciously lift your hips higher, immediately mystified by his ministrations. A slight gasp wrenches itself from your throat when your cunt meets his spindly fingers.

“Chenle-”

You're lying supine on the Clarifornia king bed and Chenle hovers above you. Fully clothed while you're almost naked. His hand is digging into the sheets beside your head as he hovers over you. Chenle's body acts as a great big shield, hiding you away from the city lights bleeding through the floor to ceiling windows.

“Condom,” you begin to say but your words are already escaping you and you're drifting off into fuzzy, foggy subspace. “Le- we needa-”

He shuts you up with a small peck on the lips, unbeknownst to you, he's already pulling his cock out and positioning the head right at your weeping entrance. “It'll be quick.” he says with a second kiss, “I'll pull out, I promise.” He's already swiping away your panties, exposing your weeping cunt to the warm air.

“B-But you're intoxicated- holy fuck!” He slowly eases the head of his cock through your folds and the lubrication from both your arousal aids in making the process less painful but certainly not less uncomfortable. “F-Fuck-’

“I'm your boyfriend,” Chenle breathes out as he pushes his cock further in, “You're not exactly taking advantage of me.”

Unable to stop himself from slamming his cock in, Chenle winces at the tight grip your cunt has him in. He needed this so fucking badly. He needed your warmth, your presence. The world seemed completely and utterly meaningless when you were there to provide meaning for him.

“Fuck, you're so tight, you're so tight, so, so tight-”

You're a whimpering drooling mess underneath him, with your head rolled to the side, eyes half lidded in ecstasy as Chenle made avid use of your body with his deep strokes that only grew more and more rough. “Fucking, fuck-”

“J-Just like that, - please don't stop-'' your breath is knocked out of you the deeper he goes and the discomfort quickly bleeds into pleasure. A pleasure so profound you're arching your back for him, forcing his cock deeper. Chenle's grunts turn into a slew of tiny, pathetic whimpers and you unconsciously squeeze around him as he bullies his cock further and further into your soaking cunt.

“You're making such a big mess, you know that?” You could feel it. Your wetness was seeping into the linen underneath you and all you could do was whimper silently, bottom lip protruding as you took every bit of everything he had to give.

“Quick,” he keeps whispering in his light-as-a-feather voice, “Y-You want me to fill you up, huh?” Chenle's mind is completely clouded with lust and ruts into you deeper and deeper, his pelvis brushing against your puffy clit.

“You wanna sit here with my cum leaking out of your cunt baby-” You're gasping, trying to wriggle your torso up.

“Chenle! You said you wouldnt-”

“For the fantasy, baby,” he places a reassuring kiss against your lips before parting those lips as he hits a particularly deep spot inside. “I-Its for the fantasy baby, relax.” You're both breathing into each other’s mouth. The coldness of his chains hits your chin in intervals and you're both sure that you might die of overstimulation. “You're so much work, you know that? So much fucking work-”

“Chenle I'm gonna cum-” You could feel your orgasm wanting to snap and your words only spurred him on quicker, “Fuck, me too-”

“Oh God, you feel so good,” His eyes were squeezed shut, so completely lost in his own pleasure that he barely registered you slipping into your own orgasm. All Chenle could feel was your cunt tightening around him before he nearly spilled inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh- fuck-” Chenle's clumsily grabs ahold of his cock already spurting cum before he's milking the rest out over your stomach “Jesus- FUCK!” it was the loudest you ever heard him and your chest rises and falls as you watch Chenle make a complete mess of you as if you truly were nothing more than an object. His object

“F-Fuck,” Chenle slumps over beside you but not before dragging you in by his side. It's like he wanted to live in your skin.

“I can't believe you came inside me.”

“you’re too pitchy” “too high” “no it’s off” again and again and again and again. his voice rang in your head as you sang the line. you heard the mic turn off once more and you looked to chenle who was sitting behind the glass, watching you. “do it again.” he said, making you suck your teeth. “im taking five” you mumbled, slipping off the headphones and leaving them on the mic. “yn i said ag-“ “im taking five!” you yelled back, walking out of the booth and slamming the door. 

outside sat your bandmates, who had been seeing everything through the glass of the door. chenle came out of the room, glaring at you. “why the fuck would you just walk out. get back in there yn” even his voice was annoying you now, maybe he was too pitchy. “i’ll get back in there when you get off your high horse!” you replied, voice getting louder. whatever conversation everyone else was having died down to look at the two of you. 

“what are you even talking about yn” he furrowed his brows, matching your tone. “you’re fucking targeting me! i didn’t need to record that line fifteen times chenle!” you groaned out, frustrated over what he was doing. “face it yn, you’re not as good as you think!” he spat back, words laced with venom. “are you fuck-“ “enough! both of you!” jeno called out, standing up to walk in between the two of you. 

“you’re both saying things you don’t mean” he glanced at you then chenle. you rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to speak up but he stopped you. “20 minutes in the closet, both of you.” he pointed his head at the storage closet and you both groaned. “whatever” chenle mumbled, going over to the closet and shutting the door. jeno looked to you, gesturing his head and you sighed, heading into the closet. 

the band had rules, one of them being if two people were arguing too much they'd have to spend a certain amount of time in the closet. the rule originated because during your early days everyone was at each others throats. it was helpful sometimes, but right now the last place you wanted to be was confined somewhere with him. 

things between you and chenle was always complicated, both of you were the main singers of the band and sometimes it caused some issues, but lately it seems as if it’s gotten worse. when you first joined the band you had a small thing for him, but that went away quickly after you saw him sucking some other girls tongue. you kept your distance but for some reason he kept pulling you close to him. 

in pulling you close to him you began spending more time with him. most of it being writing songs, you would write a piece of music and then pass it to chenle as if it was this secret language only the two of you knew how to read or translate. things were good, but then they blew up. 

the breaking point was him telling rolling stones that in no way shape or form were you his muse. it stung, knowing someone you wrote songs with could just toss you to the side for his own gain. so you did the most sensible thing, invited the rolling stones reporter to a rager and got high out of your mind with him, in an attempt to prove you were chenles muse. 

that blew over quick because you were on all sorts of drugs and the reporter instead called chenle to take you home safe, after chenle arrived at the party you had no idea what happened since you blacked out. ever since chenle had been treating you like you were the bottom of the barrel and this was just the tip of the iceberg. 

you weren’t sure what made you more mad, chenle targeting you or the lyrics, oh those lyrics. ‘more fun to miss than to be with’ one of them read. the words burned into your head like a cow being branded, was it about you? chenle handed you the lyrics to the song as if it was some big joke and you were the butt of it. what could it even mean. 

you sighed, reaching in your pocket for a cigarette then lighting it. chenle glanced at you then rolled his eyes. “put it out” he mumbled, he leaned against the wall, now looking at you, crossing his arms. “no” you replied back, blowing the smoke into the small confined space the two of you were in. “yn im serious, put it out.” he said once more, this time speaking up clearly. 

you held eye contact with him and rolled your eyes, letting the cigarette fall then stepped on it. you two stood in silence for a minute until you couldn’t take it anymore. “what the fuck were those lyrics” you said, glancing over at him. chenle gave you a look and hesitated before speaking. 

he pushed himself off the wall making him closer to you. “do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” he looked in your eyes, he was mad. it wasn’t that hard to tell he was pissed at you but for some reason this had something else behind it. “what?” you breathed out, eyebrows furrowed looking up at him. 

“you were high out of your mind in a house full of people who didn’t know you, so tell me,” he moved closer to you, making your back hit the wall as you stepped backwards. “do you have any idea how dangerous that was for you?” he repeated the same question but now his tone was softer, almost as he was.. worried? no, he couldn’t be. 

“stop acting like you care chenle.” you said, your words hanging in the air as he stared back at you. he still had the same frustrated expression on his face as he looked down at you. for a second you thought he would kiss but instead he backed away, leaning against the wall opposite of you. “i do care yn” he finally said, crossing his arms. 

there was a heavy silence in the air after chenle spoke, you were too angry to get the words out. so you stood there, the words stuck in your throat and too angry to even bother speaking. he cared? if he cared so much then why would he lie to the reporter? why would he say that you weren’t his muse when he would slip you songs he wrote about you in the middle of the night, unable to sleep? why would he even write with you to begin with? were you just a game, for him to earn more money with the band? 

“if you care so much chenle then why did you lie to the reporter?” you finally got the words out. he looked up, eyebrows furrowed now. before he could speak you did. “why would you say that im not your muse?” you stood up straighter now, his expression still the same. “why would you say that not knowing how it would affect me? did you just want to make more money? and not even bother caring about who you hurt in the process?” you continued, your tone still harsh. 

now chenle stopped trying to speak up, letting you talk. “you wrote songs about me. about how much you wanted me and wanted to have me. so was it all just a game?” you looked in his eyes, tears brimming in your own. “because if it was i can just leave chenle, and i wont come back so tell me if i was-“ he cut you off by kissing you. 

unable to hear your words anymore chenle kissed you. he held your face in his hands as he kissed you slowly. you could’ve pushed him off, told him to fuck off but instead you let your heart take over and you kissed him back, holding him by his neck. the kiss got faster as you backed up against the wall, chenle now caging you. 

it felt like so many words were unspoken through the kiss, everything the two of you had been holding in was now being let out. the kiss started slowing down, you swore you could feel every crack on his lips, as well as the soft taste of the coffee he drank. chenle pulled back, both of your faces flushed and lips a light shade of red. you look up at him, breathing unevenly. “does that answer your question?” his voice wasn’t above a whisper, but he could be heard loud and clear. 

one thing led to the next and you and chenle were back in the recording booth, where you started. “okay, so we’ve had our extended five, are we all good now?” johnny spoke into the mic as you slipped on your headphones. “all good here” you spoke clearly into the mic and glanced at chenle. he watched your every move, how you sat on the stool and flipped through the lyrics. “yeah i’m good” he finally said making johnny smile and clap. 

“alright, then let’s get started” he said, smiling. johnny counted you down and you began singing the first verse, hoping that after that in the closet, chenle would finally approve. this time, you got through the first verse without chenle cutting your mic. finally, johnny cut your mic right before the pre chorus and you glanced over at chenle who simply smiled. he leaned in to push the button for you to hear him, “good as always yn” he said, making you smile as well. he leaned back in his chair, smiling right back at you. 

no one knew how you and chenle made up but one thing was for certain that the kiss would be happening a lot more now. 

taglist : @kisseudoll @hyuckworld @lqfiles @cupidhoons @ronniee-26 @bywonyo @aerifim @17ericas @polarisjisung @sunghoonsgfreal

dream taglist