#dom!chan

"everything's almost ready baby, you should go get ready— ill finish this up and follow you yea?" he said but you had only heard half of it, an idea popping up in your mind like a light bulb.

"wait, can we do something first?" you said. eyeing your phone then eyeing him again with a mischievous look in your eyes.

"you are not making a minion's makeup look on me again you promised last time was the last time" he sighed out, knowing what you were about to say was just as ridiculous if not more.

"no its not that a promise!!" you laughed, naturally causing him to smile back at you

"oh yea? then what is it, hit me" he said crossing his arms, bracing himself for whatever little tiktok challenge you were gonna let him do.

"i want us to do push ups until failure" you said excited "push ups till failure? as in who will do more push ups? i think we both know who will win that challenge baby" he said, a cocky tone lacing his words

"no...i mean you will do push ups..."you trailed off. "illjustlieunderyoutillyoufail" you said in one go, nervous of what his reaction could be.

"you'll what? lie under me?" he laughed, the idea of you lying under him while his figure consumed you, going up and down on you making is cock twitch in his pants.

"pleaseeee" you pleaded "it'll be fun!!" you tried with words, saying anything just to convince him.

"it wont be the first or last thing u do just for a video" a laughed shaking his head, "make it quick then, baby" he said as you let out a a celebratory "yes!!" as you ran to lay the yoga mat on your bedroom floor, chan trailing right after you

you see, chan rarely ever let out moans or whines during bed, just the occasional groans when he was reaching his climax and whatever praises he would whisper in your ear. however, the times you heard him being all breathless was when he was in the gym, weightlifting, pull up, or whatever workout he was doing. his trainer would push him slightly past his limits. making him achey with pain and breathless and leaving you hot and bothered. and he noticed, he always did, which did nothing but boost his ego.

so here you were, phone propped on the wall with you lying on the yoga mat, your phone the perfect angle to catch everything. then he got into frame, muttering a "you're ridiculous sometimes you know that?" lauging as he positioned himself above you

then suddenly the air shifted. you definitely underestimated how small you'd feel and how big he would be above you, shirtless with his chest right infront of your face and his face a little bit above yours. you felt heat pooling to your stomach. and you definitely saw the lustful glint in his eyes, his easy demeanour from before into something filthy.

"so how many you want me to do, princess?" oh you knew you were gone. "a-as many as you can" your voice stuttering already, feeling your cheeks down to you neck starting to heat up.

"one...two...three" he started, going quickly from the get go. you got whifs on his musky cologne as he went up and down on you, the musky scent with the underlying sweetness that you'd grown so used to. you'd grown audibly breathless by the 10th push up.

he wasnt doing okay either, blood rushing to his cock as he felt himself get hot. the proximity between both of you was nothing he wasnt used to. but the suggestiveness of it all had him faltering. getting all breathy just as you liked. veins starting to get visible on his neck, a pink flush washing over his neck and chest

"e-eighteen" he stuttered. looking down at you for the first time to already see you looking up at him. your face just as flushed as his, your mouth parted as you let our ragged breaths.

by the twentieth push up, you felt his hard on graze your tummy every time he went down, you felt him linger just a millisecond longer to grind his cock against you.

"twenty-hah-twentyfour" that had done something to you, the sound of the slight whimper he let out spurring you on to grab his cock through his pants, his balance faltering as one of his knees hit the ground, looking down at you with a hungry look, pupils dilated.

"you knew what you were doing, huh baby?" he said breathless, using his position to start grinding into your palm. moving down to kiss and suck onto your neck, marking you up. making you let out noises freely now. feeling his hand coming down to get a hold of yours and pinning to your side as he leaned up to take off your shorts, nudging your legs open with his knee and slotting his bulge in between your legs.

"ohh—baby" he let out an actual moan at the feeling of your slick through the fabric of your panties. he tucked his face into your neck, suckling and biting onto your neck as you felt the tip of his cock poking your clit repeatedly. his pace sloppy and hungry.

"oh—fuckkk chan please!" you moaned broken, not sure what you were begging for.

"please what baby, i need you to use your words" he said.

"nghhh touch me p-please" you mewled as he stoped his grinding as he pushed your panties to the side, inserting his middle and ring finger without warning. his other hand lifting your shirt to grope and suck at your tits.

"oh fuck!" his fingers inside you were moving at a maddening pace. scissoring and curling at all the right spots. his thumb drawing messy circles on your clit. grabbing your propped up phone, flipping it to the back camra and zooming in onto him angrily fingring your drooling cunt.

"yeaahh there you go baby, all squirmy and wet for me yea? all just from seeing me get worked up for your little video?" he said loud enough for the mic to catch. putting the phone back and using his now free hand to pinch and twist your nipple, all still getting caught by the camera.

"yesyesyes—you looked so good above me, all muscles and sweat, gasping and moaning— oh fuck right there!" he went faster at your words. his hand leaving your tit and inserting his thumb into your open mouth. letting you suck on it before trailing it down and choking you with it. not too strongly but enough to send you moaning and gasping, getting even wetter under him.

you started showing the tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm. clenching around his fingers and letting out a string of incoherent verions of his name.

"p-please give me your cock, need to cum on your cock!" and just like that, he ripped his fingers out of you, making you whine at the loss of your orgasm, the twist in your stomach going down again.

"what a desperate slut, just for me yeah?" he leaned down to kiss you filthy. pulling away from you and holding your chin open letting out a filthy blob of spit fall from his mouth to yours before flipping you over "on your knees baby" he said, pulling you up as he lined himself up with your entrance easing, in with groan

he wasted no time, ramming inside you, Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. and for the first time he's letting out noises. the entire build up making his usual control falter, letting out whines moans of your name as you swallowed him whole.

Jus’ like that. Fucking ruin me—ohfuck!.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.

"harder? oh—ill go harder for you baby—fuck" he grabbed you by your hair, twisting it in his hand as he held you up, loud 'plap-plap-plap's echoing across the room with your loud mewls of his name and his groans.

"my little slut" he groaned, letting go of your hair as he landed a few slaps on your plump ass before "my—filthy—little—slut" punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips as you fell head first on the yoga mat, muffling your noises, which where—getting too loud— into the crook of your elbow, a tear falling from your eyes at the intensity of it all.

"aw~" he said with faux sympathy "dont cry baby, you knew what you were getting yourself into after all" he grabbed your hair again, lifting your head up. "dont hide your noises from me baby wanna hear every-thrust-little-thrust-noise.

you have lost all control. your brain foggy, losing all coherent thoughts. the only thing you can thing about is his name, how fast hes plowing into you, and your impending orgasm "fuucckk—right there chan" your eyes roll to the back of your skull

"look at you baby" he eyed your phone, showing a reflection of the position you were in. on your knees, ass up, shoulders on the floor as your fingers gripped onto the yoga mat, serving as the only thing grounding you as chan took you to heaven and back.

"yeaaah—hah—you're taking me so well baby. you gonna cum?"he said breathless. "yesyesyes m'gonna cum" you moaned, delirious

"go ahead then baby—fuck come for me" he speeds up, gripping onto your hips. your mouth fell into an O shape as you let out a silent scream as your orgasm washed over you

chan wasnt too far behind "fuck m'gonna" he couldnt even complete the sentence before letting out a filthy moan- throwing his head back, thrusting once, twice, before he spilled inside you. hips stilling against your ass as he painted your walls white.

he eased out of you, as a mix of both your cum came out of you, ruining the mat.

"you doin okay?" he asked, voice soft. kissing gently down your back "yea, m'fine." you smiled, looking to the side, grabbing your phone. holding it infront of you, your eyes hazy and your face fucked up. you held up a little peace sign, showing chan kissing down your back before stopping the video.

he went and got a towel, cleaning you up, saying "you better send me that video" you let out a tired giggle "only if you keep moaning for me like that" you smirked back at him

bonus: since you obviously couldnt post the video. even if you cut and edited it to death. so chan offered an alternative idea for a video when you finally went back on track for your plans to chill on his day off. and it works just as well.

a/n: my first request!!! i had sm fun writing this. ngl my brain lagged at first but i went with the flow. and yes i wrote the first part of the fic based on that vid i linked in the end

“He didn’t tell you where he was going?” she asked you, stepping over a patch of moss. 

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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“such a fucking brat,” chris groans, as a hand slaps across your ass, the sound reverberating throughout the room. your face flushes and warmth pools in your tummy, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to relieve the ache settled there. he has you naked, splayed across his lap, his left hand keeping both of yours bound around your back.

you were no where near begging or apologizing, yet. he had been spending so much time at the studio, recording and getting ready for their next comeback that you had barely seen him this month. every attempt for attention getting breezed over and culminating in you doing everything you knew would piss him off. 

three slaps come in quick succession, one to the left cheek, one to the right, then one directly in the middle. a high whine leaves your lips, as your hips wiggle for attention where you really want it. 

“stop squirming, or it’ll go from ten to twenty, brat,” he threatens, removing his left hand from yours to cup your jaw and tilt your face to look at him. when you wiggle your wrists, he gives you a look that tells you not to move a muscle. “if you move again, i’ll fuck this pretty little pussy before getting her ready for me, and you won’t be allowed to cum. do you understand?” he emphasizes by placing another harsh smack to your right cheek. 

“yes,” you mumble, trying hard to stay still. you’re not sure if he really means it, but the tone in his voice sends a shiver up your spine. 

“yes, what?” he growls, place a smack to each cheek. 

“yes, dad-dy. i un-understand,” you choke out, knuckles turning white as you clench your hands in to fists, trying so hard to listen.

“good girl,” he places one last slap to your cheek before whispering, “ten.”

he pulls you up to straddle his lap before grabbing you by the hair at your nape, dragging you in for a heated kiss. your lips part quickly, and he takes advantage moving his tongue against yours. he moves to pull away, nibbling on your bottom lip before harshly sucking it. a whimper escapes you and your hips grind down on his. the fabric of his boxers the only layer separating you from from feeling him fully, it drags deliciously against your clit. chris moves one hand to cup and massage your ass, as he kisses his way to your ear before lightly asking, “color?”

“green, so fucking green, daddy,” you practically moan, all you can think about is touching him. you’ve been wanting his attention for so long and you finally have it, but he still has your hands pinned to your back. “wanna touch you,” you add. 

he chuckles at your request, “oh baby, you know brats don’t get to touch, not without earning it.” he tilts his head to the side like he’s deciding how you’ll earn your reward, before he’s quickly pushing you to your knees between his legs and pulling his length out. “mouth only, baby girl,” he tells you, dragging a thumb along the curve of your jaw, before lightly tapping your cheek, “open.”

your mouth opens instantly, tongue flicking out to lick the reddened tip, moaning at the taste of him. your tongue drags down the underside and back up, paying special attention to the vein there. you swirl your tongue over the tip, before enveloping it in your mouth and sucking lightly, earning you a deep groan. the sound encouraging you to move further down his length, sucking and massaging him with your tongue as you do, bobbing up and down. 

“fuck, yes, pretty girl, just like that,” chris encourages you, threading his right hand into your hair, not taking charge, just resting there. when you look up at him, he’s already watching you, pupils blown wide and jaw clenched. you start moving along his length faster, wanting to push him over the edge, finally get to touch him. he throws his head back, moaning, and tightening his grip in your hair. 

“shit, such a good girl for me,” he praises, before gripping your hair harshly and thrusting his hips, in and out chasing his peak. “fuck,” he pants, moving frantically, pace faulty and hips stuttering. “take it, baby, swallow it all for daddy,” he groans before burying himself until the hair at his base is tickling your nose, cock spasming in your throat as he paints it white. he holds you there for a moment until you gag, then he’s pulling you off with a shudder. 

he takes a moment to assess your tear stained face, lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed, and those doe eyes that get you whatever you want from him. your chest is heaving, breasts bouncing as you try to suck in much needed air. he gives you such a loving look, it takes you by surprise when he lifts you off the floor and flings you onto the mattress, devilish grin taking over his features. 

he grasps onto the back of your knees and shoves your thighs open, bending down to hover his mouth over your soaked folds. he places a single kiss to your clit before pulling back, causing a whimper to fall from your lips. 

he just chuckles at your neediness, “hold your legs for me, baby,” he demands before pulling his hands back and allowing you to replace them. he moves his body up to nip and lick at your breasts, before sucking your left nipple in his mouth. he uses his hand to give the right attention, tugging, pinching and massaging it. he switches to the other side, lathering it with the same care as it’s sister. 

he pulls back, sitting on his knees, eyes roving over your body, so open and willing to take whatever he gives. his eyes slowly move down to your pussy, settled between your plush thighs. he moved a hand to run along your wet folds, brushing lightly, and dragging a moan from you. chris watches your face, as he pulls his hand back to slap it down directly on your clit. it elicits the most desperate whine from deep in your throat, and it has his cock thickening against his thigh. “knew you’d like that, you little brat,” he teases. 

“please, chris, please,” you finally beg, ready to say whatever he wants to here, anything to finally get him inside you. 

he places another slap to your pussy, “what was that?”

“please, daddy,” you quickly correct, mind already melting as he places another slap. each one sending tingles throughout your body, toes clenching. 

“there we go. what do you want, baby?” he praises, rubbing his fingers through your folds before raising it to his lips and cleaning them off, “fuck, so wet for me, taste so good, pretty girl.”

“need you inside me, please, daddy, so empty, need you,” you plead, pushing your hips toward him, pouting your lip and giving your best doe eyes. 

he moves to hover over you, grabbing his cock and rubbing it through your folds to coat himself in your slick. he taps the tip over your clit a few times, just hear your moan and whine for him some more. when he finally moves to line himself up at your entrance, he looks you in the eye before burying himself in one thrust, moaning as he watches your eyes roll back. 

“tell me how good it feels, baby, tell me how much you love daddy’s cock,” he groans, before pulling back to snap his hips back. 

“feels soooo goo-good, daddy, so full,” you moan, “please can i touch you, need it.”

“go ahead baby,” he answers, before burying his head in your neck and setting a brutal pace that’s slowly moving you further up the mattress. your hands fly to his back, marking it with angry red lines before moving one hand to grip his hair and pull, just the way he likes. the sound of skin slapping, both of your moans, and the squelch of your pussy fill the room. 

“god, perfect fucking pussy baby,” he litters you with praise in between groans, and picks up his pace. he pulls back to move you into a mating press, smooshing your breasts together, so he can watch them bounce. when he pushes in at the new angle, you can feel him hit that perfect spot inside, dragging a whimper from your mouth. you clench around him when he makes sure to angle at that spot every time. 

“right there, i’m gonna cum,” you moan and move a hand to grab his thigh, “don’t stop, pleaaaase,” your eyes are rolling back into your head and your thighs are starting to shake, as you feel your peak closing in.

chris slows his thrusts, “did you forget your manners?” he scoffs, “you were doing so good, baby, don’t disappoint me now.”

“i’m sorry!” you cry out, a tear slipping down your cheek, as you feel your orgasm fading, “please, daddy, wanna cum, need it so bad. please let me cum.”

a grin takes over his face, and his pace picks back up. he moves a hand down to your clit, rubbing circles, “cum for me, pretty girl,” he finally says.

“thank you,” you whine out, canting your hips to chase the release you so desperately need. your vision blurs white, pussy spasming around him, clenching and gushing around his length as your orgasm washes over you. you’re left moaning and gasping under him, as he continues to work you through it, slowing his hand on your clit.

“fuck, baby, pussy’s milking me, gonna — fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips staggering before stilling and filling you to the brim. he gives a few weak thrusts before collapsing on the bed, pulling you into his side. 

“stop being a brat when you want attention,” he chides, giving you one last slap to your ass before moving to the bathroom for a wet cloth.

“you love it,” you tease when he walks back into the room, satiated grin spread across your face.

he gently cleans between your thighs, placing a kiss there before rolling his eyes, “clearly didn’t punish you right.”

The pack house is silent, when you wake up, your throat parched, the dry winter air of the cabin making it impossible to sleep. You gently pry yourself from Felix’s sleeping arms in the nest, padding down the hallway in nothing but one of the kitten’s oversized shirts, you expect to find the kitchen empty.

Instead, you find Chan bent over his laptop at the kitchen island. He looks every bit the weary old man Seungmin calls him, shoulders broad and tense, his silver-flecked wolf ears twitching at the sound of your footsteps long before you even reach the counter. He is notoriously an insomniac, but you’ve never seen him in the wee hours of the morning,

His voice rumbling through the quiet room, deep and gravelly from disuse. “Couldn't sleep, princess?”

“Thirsty,” you whisper, stepping into the kitchen. You fill a glass with water, and wander into the living room, drawn by the low, flickering orange glow of the hearth. You sink onto the plush rug, staring into the embers and nursing your glass until your mind begins to drift, zoning out into the hypnotic flames.

You’re completely lost in thought when a heavy, familiar presence settles behind you. Chan doesn't make a sound as he reaches out, his large hands sliding around your waist to tug you firmly between his spread legs. He wraps his arms tight around you, pinning you against his chest.

You all but melt into his warmth, your head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. As you expose the line of your neck, he is quick to nuzzle into the sensitive skin.

“You smell like Felix,” he murmurs, a soft, deep coo vibrating in his chest that surprises even him. He nuzzles deeper into your skin, his tail giving a slow, heavy thump against the rug. “You smell like the whole pack. I don't ever want you to smell like anything else again.”

“Chan…”

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, his hands sliding down to your hips. “Stay. Be my mate. Our mate. Let us take care of you properly.”

Before you can answer, he flips you around to face him, pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling him. You feel the heavy, hot weight of him beneath his sweatpants.

“Just stay like this for a minute,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup your face.

He leans in, his lips finding yours in a slow, exploratory kiss that tastes faintly of the fire's smoke. It’s a soft, wet making out session, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips until you open for him, letting out a shaky breath that he swallows whole. As your tongues tangle, his hips grind up against you. The friction of his thick length through the fabric of his sweatpants is agonizingly perfect, teasing your heat until you're squirming against him.

He groans into your mouth, a low, vibrating sound that rumbles in his chest, his hands sliding down to grip your hips and anchor you firmly to his rhythmic, needy pace.

“You’re so responsive,” he purrs, his fingers digging into your hips to grind you down harder against him. “Imagine how you’ll look when I’m actually inside you. When I’m filling you up so deep you can’t think about anything but us.”

Chan reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, the sound of the elastic snapping loud in the quiet room as he shoves them down just enough to free himself. You gasp as his thick length springs free, and slaps hard against his lower stomach. He's already leaking, pearly pre-cum slicking off the head of his cock and onto his abs. It’s so messy… So lewd.

His hands find the thin lace of your panties, tugging them firmly to the side to clear a path. He grips your hips with a possessive, bruising hold, lifting you just enough to align you before guiding you back down. He spreads you open in a way that stings a little due to the lack of prep, your body tenses as he shushes you, pressing soft pecks to the corner of your lips. When he’s fully in, bottoming out against you, his tip presses firmly against that one spot. You clench around him, shifting your weight instinctively as you try to get comfortable, your eyes bleary with the overwhelming stretch.

“There she is,” he groans, his head falling back as he bottoms out. Instead of moving, Chan stays perfectly still. He keeps you anchored, his thick length filling you to the brink. He lets out a low, vibrating hum that resonates from his chest directly into yours.

“You’re so sleepy, princess,” he murmurs, his voice a warm caress against your ear. “So cute when your eyes are bleary like this.”

He doesn't let go, and he doesn't pull out. Instead, he shifts his weight with careful, dominant grace, guiding you both down. The move makes his cock shift deep inside you, the heavy friction drawing a small moan from your lips as you involuntarily clench around him. You end up sprawled together amidst the thick, fluffy rugs and the scattered blankets in front of the dying fire. He curls his large body around yours, keeping you pinned against his chest, his arms a tight, possessive hold.

“We should get some sleep,” he whispers, his nose nuzzling into the scent-marked skin of your neck. His tail gives a slow, heavy wag against the floor, the sound of the embers popping the only thing breaking the silence as you blink into sleep.

“Yeah, baby?” He set his headphones on the desk and smiled, watching as you made your way to him, ruffling his hair as you stood in front of him. “What’s up?”

“I have a request,” you whispered, both hands on Chan by now. One in his hair, buried in his golden brown curls; the other cupping his cheek. He melted under your touch, as he always did when someone else initiated skinship with him– he was always so used to being the one to reach out, and would visibly turn to mush when he was touched first.

You used it to your advantage often.

“Hyung,” you whispered, stepping forward. Even with his eyes closed, he felt you move– he spread his legs to let you stand between them, let his head fall to the side as you bent down to press a kiss to the side of his neck. He let out a shaky breath, hands trembling as they reached out to pull you closer. That was a good sign.

“Hyung,” you repeated with your nose buried in his neck. Chan hummed in response, his hand on your back bunching up the fabric of your hoodie– well, his hoodie, but he’d lent it to you several years prior, and you’d been the only one to wear it since. “Hyung, I want you to be my first.”

Chan didn’t seem to have a reaction. You pulled away, observing his face, watching as he slowly blinked his eyes open to look up at you. “First what? Kiss? I thought Felix was your first kiss.” You cupped his face with both of your hands, gently pushing his cheeks together to make him pout.

“You know what I mean. Don’t you?” Chan’s eyes slowly widened as he forced his lips into a frown.

“Honey, no.” Chan sighed, exasperated. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You stepped closer between his legs. You dropped one hand from his cheek to his chin, lifting it up with your thumb. “Can’t or won’t?”

Chan narrowed his eyes up at you. Grabbing your wrists, he effortlessly held your hands out of reach. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not right. I’ve known you since you were a kid.” You struggled against his hold, but soon gave up as Chan’s grasp tightened.

“Besides the point. I knew you when you were a kid, too, hyung.” You pouted down at him, pulling out all the stops to possibly get him to cave in. But you knew he was stubborn, unyielding– it would take a lot more to get him to agree to this.

“I was like three days away from turning eighteen, sweetheart.” Chan loosened his grip on your wrists just to squeeze them once more before letting go. “You were thirteen.”

“Thirteen and a half, hyungnim.” You corrected and pinched his cheek. Closing his eyes, Chan pressed his tongue against the inside of his other cheek, resulting in a slight bulge of the skin of his cheek. If he only knew how crazy that little gesture made you.

“Doesn’t make it any better. You were a child. It’s wrong.”

But Chan had let go of your wrists. He had his arms crossed over his chest, staring up at you, legs spread to let you stand between them comfortably. He hadn’t kicked you out of the room, he hadn’t cursed you out, he hadn’t pushed you away. Not to mention the unmistakable bulge in his pants directly in front of you.

“You’re hard,” you whispered, kneeling down in front of him. Your face was only inches away from the tent in Chan’s pants before he stood up, his chair shooting back behind him.

“Y/N.” You hated that tone in Chan’s voice. It sent shivers through your entire body. It took all the courage in you to look up at him, finding your leader looking down at you with the worst expression on his face possible– disappointment. Your heart sank as you fell fully to the floor, your legs bending on either side of you.

“Hyung, I’m–”

“Save it,” Chan muttered under his breath, covering his mouth with his hand, eyes shut. “I’m going to the toilet, and when I come back in here, you better be gone. Got it?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. Then, aloud: “Yes, hyung,” since his eyes were still closed.

Chan left you on his bedroom floor and didn’t look back. You didn’t want to test him, to see another look on his face that would haunt you for months. You picked yourself up and locked the door behind you as soon as you stepped into your bedroom, leaning back against the door.

Chan had been hard. There was no denying it. But he still had rejected you, still had said ‘no,’ still had refused your advances. But you had barely touched him– he couldn’t have gotten hard just from that. He wanted it. He wanted you. Surely.

“ will you dream of me? i'll always dream of you ”

He started avoiding you when he could. He stuck to his room at home and stayed in the studio as long as he possibly could every night. Whenever cameras were off, he was as distant as possible. STAYs would know something was up if he kept his distance on camera– those times quickly became the only chances you had to spend time with him.

“Hyung,” you whispered to him, the both of you cuddled on the couch behind Felix and Changbin playing Tekken. The four of you were in Stray Kids’s assigned room at Music Bank, waiting your turns to get your makeup done. The others had finished getting dolled up and were getting dressed out of the room.

Chan had made no indication that he heard you, so you pressed further. “Hyung~” Swinging your legs across his lap, you sat on top of him, circling your arms around his neck.

It was easy to fluster Mr. Bang Chan. The easiest thing any of the members could do. All it took was a touch or two, an inch of your skin touching his, a whispered promise of something more. You chose to do it all, on the couch behind two of your other hyungs, fully on camera for all of STAY to see– if the clip were to make it into the video, that was.

Both of you were wearing shorts, so the skin of your thighs was resting squarely across his knees. You could feel his skin under yours burning hotter than the core of the sun. Looked up, just to find Chan’s face burning just as warm. He was looking you in the eyes, his own blown wide. His bottom lip switched between quivering in an attempt to speak and being held back by his teeth.

“Do I finally have your attention, hyung?” You whispered, nudging your nose against his jaw. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know he was clenching it.

“We–” Chan’s voice got caught in his throat, being thrown into a coughing fit. Felix and Changbin were between rounds and Felix quirked an eyebrow up at Chan. You waved him off, shifting one hand to gently pat Chan’s back as he choked out coughs.

Once Felix and Changbin’s attention was back on the screen, you turned to Chan again. “What’s wrong, hyungie?” Under your breath, you whispered up to him, smiling as Chan met your gaze.

“Up. Now.” That tone again. Not fully disappointment, but just a couple paces shy. You knew better than to defy him.

Chan followed you up. Once he was certain the two of you were off camera, his hand was secured around your wrist. He yanked you out of the waiting room, past where Minho was getting his makeup done, into a staff bathroom. He shut the door behind you, locking it, leaning against it with his eyes narrowed up at you.

“What do I need to do to get you to start behaving, hm?” Chan crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side as he leaned back against the door. You were completely trapped. You’d be glad– if it weren’t for the faint hint of anger behind Chan’s deep brown eyes.

“Fuck me,” you contested. “Fuck me, and I’ll behave.”

Chan closed his eyes and nodded down at the ground. Then: slowly, calculated, took a step towards you. He kept taking steps towards you until your back hit the sink. He pressed his body against yours, pinning you against the marble digging into you from behind.

“Why me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. Yours were locked on his chest, the tantalizing inch of skin visible between his collarbones. It didn’t last long, avoiding him. Less than two seconds had passed since Chan had spoken up before he grabbed your jaw in his grip. The air was punched out of your lungs instantly.

“Hyu–” You attempted to protest just for Chan’s hand to shift up, covering your mouth fully. He forced your face up to look him in the eye.

“That’s better,” Chan cooed, gently squeezing your face in his hand. “Look me in the eye when you speak to me, ‘kay?” Fuck, did he sound hot like this. If you had any less self control, you’d be rock hard trapped between Chan and the sink.

He soon let go of your face and you felt yourself involuntarily following his touch. You grabbed his wrist and brought his hand back to your lips, pressing it against your mouth, kissing his palm with your eyes fluttering closed. You could feel his pulse under your fingers, racing too fast to be safe or healthy. You kissed up his palm to his wrist, up his arm, pulling him closer.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Chan’s face just inches from yours. He stared up at you with his lips slightly parted, eyes flitting between your lips and eyes, as if he couldn’t decide what to zero in on.

“Why you?” You repeated his question, leaning down to nudge his nose with yours. “You, because you’re the only one I trust. You’re the only one I want to take my virginity, hyung.”

Chan made a choked noise and pulled back, covering his reddening face with his hands. “No, no, ‘m not–” He shook his head, retreating as far back as he could. As soon as his back hit the door again, he let out a punched whine. “Wouldn’t Innie be better? He’s only a year older.”

You sighed and leaned back against the sink. “I don’t want him to be my first. He’s a little too freaky for me.” Chan laughed, peeking out from behind his fingers.

“And I’m not?” He sounded a little defeated, as if he was upset at the implication.

“Every single other member said you were the most vanilla of them all,” you mused. “So… No, you’re not.”

“You–” Chan sputtered, covering his eyes with his hands again. “You talked about me with the kids? You talked about my sex life with the kids?”

“More like all of your sex lives,” you argued. “I think every single one of you has fucked everyone else. I feel left out.”

Chan still couldn’t look you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I didn’t– We didn’t– Fuck.” He rubbed circles into his cheeks with his palms, then covered his mouth and nose with his hands to look you in the eye. With his voice muffled, he continued: “We didn’t want to include you when you made no indication you wanted more. ‘M sorry. I would’ve–”

“You wouldn’t have done anything,” you interrupted. You could see Chan’s face fall even with half of it covered. “You’re the one rejecting me, even now, when I’m coming directly to you.”

“Then, let me rephrase.” Chan squeezed his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath behind his tented hands. “The others would’ve helped you to not feel left out. I’m sorry we excluded you for so long; if you ask any of them, I’m sure they’d–”

“I don’t want any of them, hyung,” you interrupted again. Chan just sighed in response, parting his hands to push against his cheeks, rubbing his face. “I just want you,” you repeated.

“I said ‘no,’ honey.” Chan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry. But, no.”

“Then why were you hard?” You pushed, stepping closer. Chan clenched his jaw and braced himself against the door as you took another step. “Why did you just do that earlier? Flirting with me? Putting your hand over my mouth? Staring at my lips?”

By the time you finished asking your questions, you were standing directly in front of him, almost like how Chan had you pinned against the sink just minutes before. At least you had the decency to not press your body against his like he’d done.

“Y/N.” Chan scolded you, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “No.”

“I’d believe you if you meant it, hyung,” you whispered, cupping his cheek with your hand. He instantly melted into the touch as his eyes fluttered shut, nuzzling his cheek further into your palm. “See?” You chuckled under your breath, rubbing circles into his cheek with your thumb.

He let out a soft whine at the feeling of your skin against his. “Y/N–”

“You know I always do what you ask,” you continued. Chan slowly opened his eyes to look up at you again. “You know I listen to you. But I know you’re just doing what you always do.” Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, confused, and you rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know, honey. Enlighten me.”

“You never put yourself first.” Chan instantly sighed, his head falling to look down at the floor beneath himself. “You never let yourself have what you want. You put everyone else first and you never once think about yourself. Am I wrong?”

“You’re–” Chan hissed, clenching his teeth together. “You’re not wrong,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“What do I have to do,” you whispered as you lifted his face by his chin, “to get you to say ‘yes’ to me?”

You had never seen that expression on Chan’s face. He looked… well, pathetic was the nicest way to put it. He looked like he’d shatter if you said anything even slightly mean. “I don’t know.” Chan’s voice cracked and his eyes instantly flooded with tears at the lump in his throat. “I don’t know, Y/N.”

You cupped his face with both of your hands, thumbs catching the tears as they escaped. “Tell me you want me, and I’ll do the rest. Say you want this, and you won’t have to worry anymore or avoid me.”

“I want you.” Chan sniffed, blinking hard. “I want this. I’m sorry I– I’m sorry. I want you.”

You had kissed Chan more times than you could recall. Living with him, it was near impossible to go a full day without your lips touching his own at least once. But, now, it held too much weight to kiss him fully. Instead, you pressed your lips to his forehead, trailing kisses down his nose, leaving one to both of his cheeks.

“Come to my room tonight.” You kissed the shell of his ear and he shivered. “Please.”

“I will,” Chan responded instantly, chewing on his bottom lip as you pulled away. “I promise. But wha–”

A knock on the door behind Chan had you both jumping out of your skin. Chan’s arms shot to wrap around your waist as he pushed himself away from the door.

“Hyung? Y/N-ie? Are you in there?” Minho. He must have seen you and Chan walk by earlier.

“Y-Yeah, we are,” Chan responded, his arms still secured around your waist. Minho groaned on the other side of the door.

“I don’t wanna know. But it’s Y/N-ie’s turn to get his makeup done, so get out.”

You heard him walk away from the bathroom and turned to Chan– his face was scarlet red.

“Come on,” you chuckled. “Let me go, I gotta get ready, hyung.” Chan blinked rapidly as he realized he was still clinging to you and let go, giving you space.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll see you–” Chan bites his bottom lip and looked up to you. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight, hyung.” With one last kiss on his cheek, you unlocked the staff restroom and gave Chan one last smile before you went off to the room where Minho had been.

“ when it seems hard to breathe let me know what you need i'm always here for you ” 

Chan kept sneaking looks at you. In the waiting room, after you’d gotten your makeup done and he was waiting for his turn. Backstage, when every member was dressed (finally) and ready to go on stage. Even during the performance, when you were in front of him on stage, when he thought you wouldn’t notice. But his eyes lingered on you even when you were looking.

Stray Kids’ stage was the last of the day. Not even five minutes after you’d left the platform, everyone was ushered back on for the announcement of who had won. You didn’t have a chance to talk to Chan during that break, but it didn’t seem to matter. The second you were back on that stage, he was right behind you.

But he knew better than to be too affectionate. He didn’t hug you from behind like he usually would, but instead placed his hands on your hips and squeezed to the beat of the music booming through the overhead speakers. Chan pressed his lips to the back of your neck– not fully kissing, just resting his lips there and breathing in your scent softly.

Stray Kids won Music Bank that day. You could feel Chan’s smile against your skin. He still didn’t let go of your hips, and followed you with his hands glued to your waist as you walked across the stage to stand with the others to accept the trophy.

“Someone’s clingier than usual~” Felix giggled as he hugged you from the front. Sandwiched between the Aussies, you chuckled back.

“You have no idea, Lixie-hyung,” you whispered as he pulled away. “Be glad you aren’t going to be at our place tonight.” Chan giggled into your neck and wrapped his arms around you– tight, not tight enough to hurt, but just enough for you to know you weren’t getting out of his hold anytime soon.

Felix’s eyes narrowed as he looked between you and Chan, slowly putting the pieces together. A flash of recognition behind his eyes, followed by the cheekiest smirk he could muster. “Fucking finally.”

“ won't you fall for me like i fell for you love so strong, sing along ”

You missed living with everyone. It was hectic, the nine of you living under one roof, four or five people to a room– you had been at least lucky enough to live in the room of four, so everyone had their own bed instead of someone stuck on the floor like the other room. Everyone had had little to no privacy; one bathroom for nine young men shouldn’t have been legal.

And yet, you missed it. You missed seeing everyone every day. It was easy enough to invite a few of them over, but near impossible to set up anything with every member. At least the new dorms had placed you with Chan– hell had opened up and invited you in when you had been placed in the cuties’ dorm instead of Chan’s when the group had been split in two.

For the first time since moving in with just Chan and Jeongin, you were glad you didn’t live with anyone else. You didn’t make it two steps into the shared apartment before Chan had his lips on yours. He devoured you like you had been cooked specifically to his tastes, explicitly to please his taste buds. Maybe you had been.

Chan pressed deeper and deeper. You weren’t nearly strong enough to fight back, so you let him consume you. You let him press into you, stepping back a step at every press of his tongue against yours.

“Baby,” Chan gasped against your lips to catch his breath. You didn’t know when it had happened, but you were pinned down on the couch. He had walked you backwards, through the foyer, past the kitchen, into the living room. “Baby,” Chan repeated, his heated breath fanning across your lips. “I need you.”

You giggled. “Here?”

Chan pressed his lips to your neck, nudging his nose against your jaw. “Please. I can’t wait any longer. I need you, now.”

You sighed, pretending to be upset, “You’re going to take my virginity on the couch? Where Ayen-hyung could walk in and see us?”

He froze. Chan lifted up out of your neck and looked at you with the guiltiest expression you’d ever seen. “Shit, I– I forgot, I’m sorry, let’s–” Chan scrambles up and rubs his face like he was putting on moisturizer. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, honey, I–”

You laughed and stood up in front of him, cupping his face in your hands. “Hyungie, it’s okay, I’m joking.” Chan melted in your arms and buried his face in your shoulder.

“Still, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“I would’ve let you fuck me in that bathroom, hyung.” Chan barked out a laugh– you could feel his face warming up against the skin of your shoulder. “I mean it! I’d let you fuck me anywhere. But I wanted to do it right. To have my first time with you in the comfort of our own home.”

Chan pressed his lips to yours. Again, just like before, he pushed and pushed deeper. He led you to your bedroom, closed the door behind him, guided you to lay on your back. Chan kissed your neck softly, fleetingly, like you’d bruise if he used the slightest bit of pressure.

“You can hurt me,” you whispered. Chan’s lips froze against your pulse point. “I know you wouldn’t, actually,” you continued, “but you can be rougher with me. The others said you were gentle even at your roughest. So I trust you.”

Chan huffed against your neck. “I hate that you talked to the others about my sex life. About what I’m like in bed.” You wriggled under him, trapped completely under his weight.

“I just wanted to know what it’d be like ahead of time. I didn’t want to go in blind,” you explained softly, resting your hand on the back of his head, buried in his curls. “You wouldn’t have told me anything if I’d asked you, anyways.”

Chan whined into your neck. “I… I guess you’re right. But I don’t know– What did they say about me?”

“Do you want to know what all of them said? Every single one of them?”

Chan just whined again. “You talked to ALL of them? Y/N-ie…”

“Ok, to be fair,” you whispered as you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, “I talked to Minho and Jisung separately, and they offered up the information. Then they apparently told Felix, who obviously told everyone else. I didn’t ask anyone outright, they came to me instead.”

“But you still listened to what they said.” You didn’t need to see Chan’s face to know he was pouting.

“I’ve wanted your dick in me since I was– what, sixteen? Yeah, I listened.”

“You’re going to kill me. You know that, right?”

“You can die after you’ve fucked me. Okay?”

Chan sank his teeth into your neck and you felt your heart skip far too many beats to be healthy. You made a noise you didn’t know was possible– to your own ears, it sounded like a wounded cat. You didn’t want to know how pathetic it sounded to Chan’s.

“Deal.” Chan pressed his lips gently against where he’d just bitten, which you swore was an open wound by now. “But I won’t fuck you until you’ve told me exactly what the kids said about me.”

“Minho and Jisung had the same things to say, since, I mean,” you hesitated and took a deep breath. “A threesome? I never would’ve pegged you as the type.”

Chan giggled and pressed one, two, three– four kisses to your neck, before replying: “Wasn’t the first, won’t be the last.”

Something deep within you ignited with that answer, but you buried it deeper down. You would deal with that another time.

“But. Yeah.” Taking in a deep breath, you continued. “They said you were so sweet and gentle. That it kinda made them self-conscious about how, like…” You trailed off, trying to find the right phrasing. “Their word was ‘brutal,’ if I remember correctly. You made them feel bad about how… ‘brutal’ they usually were with each other. Minho said they were only gentle and soft with each other for a month after hooking up with you because you showed them how nice it was just to be tender.”

Chan was oddly silent. He hadn’t made a sound as you were speaking, and hadn’t said anything in the full minute since you’d stopped.

You waited another minute with your fingers running through his curls before you spoke up. “Hyung? You okay?”

Chan hummed into your neck. “Just… Keep talking. About the others. Please.”

“Changbin said you’d stop every couple of seconds to check in with him.” You giggled, ruffling his hair. “You’d stop and be like, ‘Are you okay,’ and ‘Is this okay,’ and ‘Can I do this,’ on and on and on. Like Changbin didn’t want to eat you alive in any way possible.”

He whined in response, mumbling into your neck. “It was his first time, too. I didn’t want to do anything wrong.”

“How many people’s virginity have you taken, Channie-hyung?” You teased, gently tugging at his hair.

“No comment.” He bit down again on your neck– thankfully, in another place. You pretended like that wasn’t the last straw to make you rock hard under the fancy pants the stylists had put you in. “What did Seungmin say?”

“He didn’t say anything, really. He said he couldn’t recall anything because he fell so deep into subspace with you. He said he’d never felt so comfortable before to just let go.”

Chan nodded and peppered kisses to the second wound he’d left on your neck. “I thought he’d be a brat, but he was so sweet. He took it so well.” Your cock throbbed. You knew Chan was a dom, but hearing him say things like that– fuck. It did something to you. “And Hyunjin?”

“He said he begged you the entire time to be rougher. And you just got one percent rougher, never enough, never what he wanted.” You paused, trying to remember exactly what Hyunjin had said. “Then he said something, like, that you were always a perfectionist but you couldn’t seem to perfect fucking him; that you’d push him in the studio but not in bed, and he should’ve just gone to Changbin instead. Then you fucked him into the mattress and he was limping for a week.”

Chan’s face was burning as strong as a flame– you could feel it through the fabric of your shirt. “And Jeongin?” He asked, his voice quiet.

“Innie-hyung said you were so flustered. Kinda like you are now. That it was so hard for you to actually get started, but when you did…” You scrunched up Chan’s curls and kissed his head again. “He said it was the best sex of his life.”

Chan let out a long sigh. “He’s just saying that. He doesn’t mean it.”

“Oh, no, he means it,” you assured him. “He said he couldn’t get it up for three months without thinking of you.”

Chan made a sound like he’d been punched. “C-Come on, he didn’t say that.”

“He did, I promise,” you whispered, watching Chan as he pulled up out of your neck. His face was redder than you had ever seen it, and you had been there when he had gotten drunk the night of the last survival show episode and had fallen asleep in Brian’s lap. “You can ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“I will never speak to him again,” Chan joked, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I think I’m okay with what they said. I thought it’d be worse, but, yeah.”

Chan was hovering directly above you, his lips only centimeters from yours. “You didn’t ask about Felix. Hyung, you didn’t forget about Felix, did you?”

He shot up off of you, tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. “Fuck,” he giggled and slowly rose to his feet, flustered at his own reaction. “I, uhm, don’t need to know what he said. It’s okay.”

“He said,” you started, ignoring him. “You were such a good boy for him. He said–” Chan jumped forward to push his palm against your mouth, but you caught his wrist just in time. “He said you sobbed and begged for his cock and you only sobbed more once he finally pushed inside of you. He said you were tighter than anyone he’d ever had.”

Chan collapsed onto the bed next to you, defeated. “I think I want to die now. Sorry, I don’t think we’re having sex. I can feel my life ending. It was nice knowing you.”

Laughing, you cuddled into his side and laid your head on his shoulder, ear directly above his heart. You’d never heard a pulse that quick. “If you die before I do, I’m killing myself the same day. You’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Chan huffed. “I’ll kill you if you kill yourself.”

“That makes two of us, then.” You pressed a kiss to his chest. His heart only raced even faster. You were starting to be genuinely concerned for his health. “Hyung, are you–”

“I need to fuck you in the next five minutes or I’m going to explode.”

You laughed and sat up, throwing your shirt off onto the floor. “Then have me.” You didn’t need to tell Chan twice.

He pressed you into the bed underneath him and visibly melted as you let out a quiet whimper for him. Chan slipped an arm under your back, holding you against him as he peppered kisses to your neck. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered into your shoulder, licking and biting small marks into your skin. You always had bruised easily, which Chan knew all too well. For once, you were thankful for the abundance of turtlenecks in your closet.

“Hyung,” you gasped at a particularly harsh brush of his teeth against your skin. “Hyung, ‘m so hard, please, hurts–” Chan licked a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe, pressing a kiss to the skin behind your ear.

“How do you want me to make you cum, baby boy?” Dragging his lips down your body, he pressed kiss after kiss from your ear to your stomach.

“Thought–” Your voice got caught in your throat as Chan sucked a mark into your hip. Praying that he didn’t feel your cock jump in your pants, you continued: “Thought you needed to fuck me in the next five minutes or you’d die. What happened?”

Chan chuckled into your lower stomach and pressed kisses lower and lower. “I said I’d explode, not die. Get it right, honey.”

“Well, sorry,” you huffed, “I can’t think too great when my dick is hard enough to bend metal.”

That was the worst thing you could’ve possibly said. Or maybe the best– it was hard to decide when less than a second after you said it, Chan’s hand was on your dick.

“Hyung–!”

“Shh,” Chan kissed the waistband of your boxers, peeking out above your pants. His hand palmed you through your pants, expertly undoing the button without having to look. Unzipping your pants and sinking his teeth into the fabric of your boxers, he pulled down your pants and underwear with ease. “So, so pretty, baby.”

Within seconds, you were completely naked with your head propped up by pillows– just in order to watch Chan as he wrapped his hand around your aching cock. “Hyungie…” You subconsciously tried to cover yourself with your legs, but Chan pinned your thighs down.

“Do I need ankle cuffs, little one? Are you not going to behave for me?” You whimpered and let your legs drop and relax, chewing on your bottom lip to prevent any more embarrassing noises from escaping. Chan smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of your cock. “Good boy.”

“W–Wanna cum on your cock, please,” you begged. Chan nodded and pressed another kiss to your tip, a kiss to each of your balls, a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“Where’s your lube, pretty?” It took all the strength in your body to fumble with the nightstand next to you, attempting to open it yourself. Chan chuckled and slipped off of the bed. He slapped your hand away to open the drawer himself and pulled out a personal bottle of water-based lube, unopened. “Hm? Do you not use lube?”

You hesitated to answer. If you told him the truth, he might stop everything there. He might not want you anymore. “I just, uhm.” You wracked your brain for an excuse, a lie that Chan would actually believe. “I finished the last one last night, mhm.”

Chan was already between your thighs again, spreading your legs apart to settle between them. “You’re a horrible liar, Y/N,” he hummed as he slowly opened the bottle. “Are you going to tell me the truth, or do I have to force it out of you?”

You covered your face with your hands. Fuck. Chan would know if you lied to him again. May as well take the chances of Chan possibly not wanting you anymore versus him doing whatever he thought would force the information out of you.

“I’ve never used lube,” you confessed. Prayed he wouldn’t ask more.

Chan just laughed. “Hm, so you leak enough that you don’t need it when you jerk off?”

“Y-Yeah.” It was the truth. But that didn’t make it any less embarrassing to admit.

“What about when you use a toy? Or finger yourself? Do you just use your pre?”

Fuck. There was no way of getting out of it. “I, uhm…” You took a deep breath, grounded yourself. “I don’t.”

Chan had been coating two fingers with lube when you responded and he immediately stopped. “You don’t?”

“I’ve never…” Again, you hesitated. He already stopped. He could stop everything.

Like he could hear your thoughts, he placed his clean hand on your thigh. “Hey, honey, please. Talk to me, okay? I need to know this.”

You nodded, face still covered with your hands. “I’ve never had anything inside of me. Not even my finger. I was too… Nervous to try. I haven’t tried.”

At some point, you didn’t know when or how, Chan had wiped his hand clean of lube. He sat you up in bed, propped you against the headboard, and sat in front of you. You’d never been so self conscious– sitting naked in front of your leader, your oldest hyung, your biggest crush for as long as you could remember, all while he was fully dressed. In your bed. At an ungodly hour of the night.

“Y/N,” Chan started, slowly. “I don’t think we should do this.”

Your heart sank. There it was. You had known this was going to happen, you had known he was going to stop everything, you had known he wouldn’t fuck you if he had known how much of a virgin you really were. 

This wasn’t going to happen. You should’ve known. You shouldn’t have held any hope, you should’ve–

“But I still want to.” Chan’s voice brought you back. “I still want to,” Chan repeated, sitting closer to you. “Because you want this. I know you want this. And I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be with you. So I still want to. Do you forgive me for still wanting you?”

You lunged forward and hugged Chan with all of your strength. Giggling, he let you push him down, your bare body laying atop his entirely clothed body, not even a sock discarded. 

“I need you naked, now,” you breathed out between kisses to his face, “or I’m going to die from embarrassment.” Chan giggled again and kissed your nose.

“Yes, sir. Get off of me, and I’ll put on a show, yeah?”

Chan did just that. You propped yourself against the headboard again, and with a playful wink, Chan began to take off his clothes. One button after another, achingly slow, his shirt was finally on the floor after the longest minute of your life. You’d never seen anyone take off their socks before their pants– but, hey, Chan was perfect enough to overlook that small fault.

But he took a little too long to undo his belt. Then even longer to unbutton and unzip his pants. He froze at the foot of your bed, thumbs dipped into the waistband of his pants, eyes locked on the comforter adorning your bed underneath you.

“Hyung?” You asked softly. He still didn’t budge. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“I…” He trailed off, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. Then, after a minute of quiet mumbles: “I’ve never shown you my dick.”

It was in that moment that you realized that too, for the first time. You had seen every other member’s– well, member– in showers, or accidentally walking in when someone was changing, or that time Hyunjin had needed advice taking dick pics, or the time Felix had flashed you during Mafia to try to make you laugh. But you had never seen Chan’s. He was notorious for walking around without clothes on, but he was never without his boxers. You had never seen his dick.

“That’s okay,” you assured him. It didn’t matter. His size didn’t matter. You wanted it inside of you regardless of what it looked like. “I don’t care.”

“No, I, well…” Chan brought a hand up from his pants to cover his mouth, then his eyes, then to rub his temples. “It might be easier just to show you.” He took off his pants and underwear with one dip of his thumb under his boxers, throwing them aside. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen him do, and his face had just been between your thighs minutes ago.

But you weren’t given the grace to admire the sexiness of his swiftness for very long. Your eyes had been following his hands, and they stayed focused on his hands until– oh.

Chan was big. Like, monstrously big. So big that you couldn’t possibly imagine it fitting inside of you, and Felix had told you that thing about two racoons on your 20th birthday. Chan couldn’t possibly fit inside of you. There was no way in hell.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chan whispered, scratching the back of his head. “It’ll fit. I just… Need to prep you for a while. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“I think you’re as thick as my arm, I’m pretty sure it’ll hurt.”

Chan’s face burned bright red. “It won’t. You heard first-hand from the others. I didn’t hurt any of them, did I?”

“Well, I–” You couldn’t think of a good enough comeback. Your voice was stuck in your throat as you watched Chan wrap his fingers around his cock, pumping twice. You watched in awe as he stiffened slightly, coming to a horrifying realization: he wasn’t hard. “Hyung,” you finally managed. “Hyung, you’re going to actually kill me if that goes inside of me.”

Chan paused, a flash of fear behind his eyes. “We can stop. We don’t have to do anything. I don’t mean to pressure you.”

You found yourself nodding, agreeing with him– before thinking about it for another second. Yes, you were scared. You’d never had anything inside of you before. But this was Chan. Your Chan. You trusted him more than anyone, anything. You knew he’d be gentle.

You had to have your first time someday. You had always wanted it to be Chan, and there he was. Why in the world would you say ‘no’ when you’d come this far?

“I don’t want to stop,” you responded after a minute of contemplation. “I want you. Just… Gentle. Please.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Chan whispered back. Within seconds, he was on top of you again, pressing his lips to your neck. You smiled and rested your head back on the headboard.

“You kiss my neck an awful lot,” you teased. “Are my lips just not as enticing?”

Chan pulled away from your neck and lifted your head up by your chin. “I’m trying to leave as many marks as possible.” He kissed your nose, then pressed his lips to yours– held them there, smiled against your lips, whispered: “The kids need to know you’re mine, and only mine.”

“So you can fuck them, but I can’t?” You whispered back against his lips. He kissed you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.

“Exactly. Good boy, you’re starting to get it.” Chan kissed down your chest, pulled you down to lay on your back, settled between your legs.

“You’re oddly possessive with me, hyung. Do you have something to tell me?” You felt Chan’s lips curve into a smile against your stomach. He kissed your skin there before lifting up to look you in the eye.

“You belong to me. You’re not allowed to have sex with anyone besides me. Get it?”

You would usually contest; but with the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn’t imagine ever defying him. So you nodded, saying: “Yes, sir.”

Chan seemed satisfied with that response. He kissed both of your inner thighs as he guided your legs apart so he could comfortably lay between them. “Are you ready, darling?” Chan held back a chuckle as he saw your cock jump at the pet name.

“I’m ready, hyung,” you whispered back. Chan kissed your thigh and grabbed the lube again– coated his pinkie finger with it, leaned down to kiss your hole softly. God, you’d never felt something like that before.

Then he pressed his finger inside of you. He stopped with just his fingertip inside, then trailed his free hand up to find yours. Chan squeezed your hand in his, rubbed patterns into the back of your hand with his thumb. “Ease up, my love,” Chan whispered. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. This was strange, weird, foreign– to have something inside of you this way. Odd, but… Pleasant. It felt good. It felt good because it was Chan.

Chan let out an appreciative hum and pressed his finger in deeper. You could feel the ridges of his skin, his fingernail jarring but somehow comforting, his knuckles easing your rim open more as they pushed inside. He eased it back and forth, pushing in slightly deeper each time, squeezing your hand softly at every rock of his hand.

“I– I think you can do more,” you breathed out. Your voice had never been so small, so uncertain, so raw. You let out a pitiful whine as Chan pulled out of you, pulling his hand out of yours as well. “Hyung…”

“Sorry, honey.” Chan sounded like a kicked puppy. He probably looked like one, too– but you couldn’t muster the courage to open your eyes to check. “It’s hard to lube up with one hand. I’ll hold your hand again in a second, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you repeated his words. “Yeah, okay.”

Before you knew it, his hand was in yours again. You braced yourself as you felt a finger at your rim again, this one slightly thicker than the last. But your eyes were still closed, and you didn’t have the strength to change that, so you took a deep breath and eased up, loosened your body for him. For Chan.

He pushed the unknown finger into you and your breathing stopped. It was a massive stretch, and Chan’s finger was barely inside of you yet. He must’ve sensed something was wrong, because he stilled his finger. “You okay?”

You nodded, gasping for air as you slowly got used to the intrusion. “Yeah, sorry, just–” Slowing your breathing, you calmed yourself down: In, hold, out. In, hold, out. “Big. It’s big, hyung.”

Chan squeezed your hand and kissed your inner thigh. “I know, honey. You said you could take more, so I tried my middle finger. Is it too much?”

Shaking your head, you squeezed his hand back. “No, no, it’s okay, just wasn’t prepared. Didn’t know what to expect. ‘M okay.”

Chan kept his lips against your inner thigh, pressing soft kiss after kiss. “You’re doing so well, my baby, so perfect,” he whispered as he pressed his finger deeper into you. Your eyes shot open at the burn, looking down at Chan between your thighs.

Fuck. Chan was always so beautiful, disastrously so. But between your thighs, he looked prettier than you’d ever seen him. His eyes closed, his nose resting against your thigh, his lips pressed to your skin. Maybe it was a good thing that you had said you wanted to cum on his cock– if he wrapped those lips around your dick for even half a second, you probably would cum instantly.

He looked so beautiful.

“Hyung…”

Chan instantly lifted his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he made eye contact with you. “Honey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Crying? You weren’t–

Then you heard a tear fall onto the pillowcase under your head. And another.

A third never fell, because Chan was pressing his lips to one cheek and his clean hand was wiping the other. “It’s okay, I’m here; It’s okay, my baby, my everything,” he whispered, his lips pressed to your cheek. You laughed once you realized his finger was still inside of you.

“Hyungie, I’m okay,” you assured him. “It doesn’t hurt, I’m okay.”

You felt Chan’s pout against your cheek before you even heard it in his voice. “Then why were you crying…?”

Chan was the worst at taking compliments. He loved being praised about his work, or his performances, or his songs– but any praise about his looks or voice or personality would have him shutting down.

You considered lying for a second or two, before you remembered earlier when he had immediately called you out for not telling him the truth. “I didn’t even realize I was crying,” you admitted. “I think I was crying because you looked so pretty. You look,” you corrected, “so pretty. You’re beautiful.”

Chan’s finger twitched inside of you. Again, and you had lost count of how many times it had happened, you felt Chan’s face burn red with his blush. “Thank you,” he whispered under his breath. “You make me feel pretty.”

“I do?” You asked, breathlessly, as Chan pressed his finger deeper into you. You hadn’t even realized it wasn’t fully inside yet. “How do I make you feel pretty?”

“I don’t know, it’s like…” Chan trailed off. He was still moving his finger inside of you, rocking it back and forth, letting you get used to the stretch. It was funny, to have this heavy of a conversation, without either of you mentioning how he was still stretching your ass open. “The way you look at me,” Chan continued after a few seconds of pressing his finger as deep as it could go. “I only see that look in your eye when you see, like, a cute puppy. Or the cherry blossoms that one day in Japan. You look like you’re on the verge of tears; your eyes get all glossy, but you smile like you’ve just won ten League games in a row.”

“And I always look at you like that?”

“Only when you’re not actively policing your expression, yeah. Usually you look at me like that.”

Chan didn’t give you a chance to reply before he pressed a second finger at your rim. You tried to stop his hand from pushing in further, but at some point he had pinned both of your arms above your head. How that had happened without you being aware, you had no idea.

“Do you know the color system, honey?” Two of Chan’s slick fingers rubbed circles around your rim, pressing against it at every rotation of his wrist.

“Yeah.” You held your breath. You knew he was asking in order to know your color, so you answered before he asked himself: “Green, hyung. I’ll tell you if that changes.”

“Good boy.” Chan kissed your cheek again before pressing a finger into you and curling his fingertip to stretch your rim. The breath was punched out of you and you quickly sucked in another breath through your teeth. “You’ve got it, baby, it’s okay,” Chan assured you as he slid a second finger into your stretched rim.

It burned. An ache spread from between your legs, up to your chest. It wasn’t a horrible pain– you’d definitely felt worse. But this was Chan. He wasn’t going to hurt you. It was going to be worth it.

So you toughed it out. Sat with the pain as he eased you into taking two fingers. Then spread them wide to help accommodate a third finger. And a fourth.

A part of you cursed the other members for not telling you about this. Most of them had bottomed for him, right?– At least, that’s what it sounded like from what they had told you. Were all of them used to taking monstrous sizes like Chan? Felix, you knew, wasn’t a stranger to it. But he hadn’t bottomed with Chan.

You hadn’t been prepared for all of this, well, preparation. Maybe it would have been nice to know beforehand– to know you’d be lying on your back for twenty minutes as Chan slowly fingered you open. Your cock was still aching, throbbing for more– it hadn’t softened even slightly.

“Are you ready, honey?”

Blinking your eyes, refocusing, you found Chan kneeling between your legs. He’d slipped a pillow under your hips, propping you up high enough for him. And– fuck– he was hard. At least an inch longer than before.

You didn’t feel like you were ready, even if your body physically was. This would change everything. Could you even look Chan in the eye again after this? Knowing what his cock felt like inside of you? Would that change be worth this?

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Chan was at your ear again, kissing your cheek. Kissing your nose. Kissing your lips. “I promise. It’s going to be okay. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you,” you replied instantly. You didn’t even need to think about it first. Never needed to, not with Chan. Every single one of you trusted Chan with your lives. You could trust Chan with your virginity. “Green, hyung.”

Chan pressed his hands to your asscheeks and spread them. Again, a strange feeling, having his hands on you like this. But you brushed it off– his fingers had just been inside of you, after all. “I can see you clenching, honey,” Chan cooed. “Loosen up. It’s just me.”

It was just Chan. It was just him. It was just your childhood crush, the leader of your group, the man who had given you a job and a career and this life. It was just Chan.

You eased up. Chan praised you, leaning down to kiss your nose, then your lips. “You’ve got this,” he assured you.

You were about to respond before you suddenly felt it at your rim. Chan’s cock was thicker than all four of his fingers combined– but he had spread them out, eased you open, stretched you out. You could do this.

When Chan pressed inside, you saw heaven. You’d always figured heaven was different for every person, and that belief was confirmed in that moment: your heaven was the face Chan made with only the tip of his cock inside of you. His lips were slightly parted, his tongue right at the front of his mouth, peeking out slightly. You could tell he was fighting his smile, but he wasn’t fully conscious enough to stop the corners of his lips from curling up. His dimples dug into his flushed cheeks, his ears bright red. Chan’s eyes were half-lidded, focused between the two of you, gaze boring a hole into where your ass and his cock met. His perfectly trimmed eyebrows furrowed, glints of makeup still sticking to his eyelids.

You had thought he was beautiful before, but– this? This was something else. If you had any bit of strength left in your body, you would have taken a photo. But there was no way you could be normal about possessing a photo like that: you would make it your phone wallpaper, frame it, print it out into a photocard and place it into your phone case, iron it onto your pillowcase and kiss it goodnight every night. Yeah– probably a good thing that your phone was across the room.

Chan pressed deeper in and you heard heaven. He was vocal in the gym, so you knew what his moans sounded like– but, fuck. Hearing them in this context for the first time… You vowed that you would do anything in your power to keep hearing him make those noises.

So you clenched around him. Chan fell forward with a weak whimper, hands finding purchase on your chest to ground himself. “F-Fuck, Y/N,” Chan choked out. “Honey, please, loosen up, you’re gonna kill me–”

“Did it on purpose, hyungie,” you whispered. You watched as Chan’s gaze darkened; his eyes narrowing, grimace morphing into a faint smile.

“I see,” he breathed out. You relaxed– he wouldn’t do that to you. It wasn’t fair to torture him like this. “You’re going to regret that.”

You jutted out your bottom lip and teased: “Mm, doubt it, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Chan clenched his jaw. “True. But I might do something worse.”

“Something worse?” You chuckled. “What could be worse than hurting m–”

He pressed his hips forward and bottomed out inside of you. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch as Chan grounded himself– then smiled down at you. “You okay? Aw. Poor little thing.”

With the last bit of air in your lungs, you attempted to protest, but couldn’t get more than half a syllable out at a time. Coughing, shaking, trembling– you finally caught your breath. “You’re so fucking evil.”

Chan laughed. “Don’t test me right now, honey, I can make this so much worse for you.” You whined and reached forward, palming at his hand.

“Sorry, sorry, ‘m sorry, please don’t.”

Chan smiled and interlinked his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your nose, whispered against your lips: “Told you that you could do it. I’m completely inside of you, Y/N.”

You kissed back, burying a hand in his hair to hold him down against your lips. “I love you,” you whispered between kisses, voice barely there. “I love you so much. Thank you.”

A tear fell from Chan’s cheek to yours and he kissed you like it would be the last time. “I love you, too. So much.”

With his lips on yours and his hands on your cheek and waist, he started moving his hips. Rocking back and forth between your legs, his cock felt like it reached deeper and deeper every time his hips met yours. Heaven was real, and you didn’t need to die to get there. All you needed was Chan in your bed.

Neither of you lasted long. At some point, Chan moved his hand from your hip to your cock, and you came almost immediately. As soon as your cum coated his fingers and the whine left your lips, Chan lost it. He picked up the pace and began thrusting shallowly, chasing his release, breathing into your mouth like you were his only source of oxygen.

“Gonna cum,” he whimpered and slowed down. “Where– Where do you–”

“Inside,” you breathed against his lips. “We’re both clean. Please, need to feel you. Need to be full. Please, hyung.”

If Chan was anything at all, he was eager to please. He pressed his lips to your lips and his hips to your hips and came.

You decided then and there that the at the next possible chance, you wanted Chan to fuck you again. At any possible chance, really, for the foreseeable future. Being filled with Chan’s cock was already impossibly pleasant, but being filled with his cum, too– it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You finally understood the others’ praises. Sex with Chan was incomparable.

“Was that okay?” Chan whispered after he’d finally caught his breath. “Are you okay?”

“I– ‘Was that okay?’ Are you fucking with me?” Chan pulled out of your neck and frowned down at you.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t last long, I can go again in a minute, just–”

“Hyung.” You scolded, cupping his cheeks with your hands. “Hyung, that was the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Shut the fuck up.” Chan laughed, held back a sob, kissed your forehead.

“Thank god. You had me scared for a second.”

He pulled out of you and kissed your cheek as you whined at the sudden emptiness. Chan laid on the bed next to you, pulled you into his chest, and kissed your scalp. “My baby,” he whispered into your hair, “was it everything you had hoped for?”

You nodded, pressing your face in between his pecs. “Yes, hyung. Everything and more. Thank you.” Chan ran a hand through your hair, resting his lips against your head.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you more,” you replied instantly.

“I love you most,” he teased.

“If you love me most, then let me fuck you next,” you teased back. Chan giggled.

“Okay. Let’s go, then.” Chan shot up and grabbed the lube from the foot of the bed, coating his fingers. “I’m ready if you are.”

You had been mostly joking. But seeing his eagerness, whether genuine or just for the bit, made you slowly start to harden again.

You snatched the lube from him and poured probably way too much onto your fingers. Chan watched you, fond as ever, as you settled between Chan’s thighs.

“Do you trust me?” You asked, chewing your bottom lip as Chan spread his legs for you to kneel between them.

Chan smiled, resting his hands behind his head.

“More than anything. Do your worst.”

You stood there letting the water run through your wavy hair, which became greasy cuz of the sweat. Then after a few moments of relaxation you got your conditioner out and started to scrub it onto your scalp using your scalp scrubber that you got from Amazon, for just 9$ nd it works wonders. A big fat steal tbh. You scrubbed it onto your hair, also using it as a head massager since you're stressed about your finals you got going on in your university. Singing as you scrub your head with the conditioner, you suddenly feel two muscular arms wrap around you. You jumped cuz you got scared. "Relax darling, It's me", you felt your heart slow down knowing it's just your boyfriend from next door and not a random creep. "What are you doing here ??" You say trying to get a glimpse of his face since you can't quite see him cuz he's behind you. "Came to eat dinner darling~ But you I like dessert first..~" He says while peppering your neck with sweet kisses. You left your pussy throb,"You came through the front door ?" you say keep your scalp scrubber aside on the shampoo holder. "I came through the window, I missed you uk ? Cuz of your finals I can't even see my baby often" he pouts cutely. You turn yourself around to just see him pout like a cute lil child. "Your so cute chan" you giggle. He starts to kiss the front of your neck now that you're facing him. "Mm.. missed me that much ?" You say running your hand through his slick blonde hair. "Yes Y/N, I need you", he said in such a moany voice. You slid one of your hands down to his dick, stroking him, damn he's rock hard. Chan groans next to your ear as he buries his face into your neck. "Let me help you with ur little satiation", you get down on your knees and come face to face with his dick. You stroke him a couple more times and then take him in your mouth, only 3 inches could fit from the 6 inch dude so you had to use your hands as well. Chan was trying his best to stay quiet knowing that your walls were indeed not soundproof, he took your slightly conditioned hair into a make-shift ponytail and guided you as you sucked him off.

 After a few minutes of sucking your hot boyfriend, he came in your mouth, and you got on your feet and kissed him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. As you guys kissed his hand went behind your thigh, slightly squeezing your ass and slapped it, letting you know to jump so that he can carry you. You obey and jump and wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. You feel his excitement poke you down there. You pull back and say "I just sucked you off and you're already hard ?" You say in a teasing tone, "You just bring it out of me when you look so hot in front of me baby", He smirks as he rubs your entrance with his dick, you whine as you want him to stop teasing and just shove his dick in. But he wants to take his sweet time since he hasn't seen his beautiful girlfriend in a while. "Chan stop teasing", he smirks "Ask nicely, then i might give it to you", He's such a tease istg "Chan c'mon we both know how badly we want this", okay you were right so he thrusted up and pushed you slightly down so that his whole manhood was buried in you. You were about to moan but he kissed, swallowing your moans. He starts out slow but then picks up his pace, going rough, just how you like it. But you mother knocks at the door "Dear, make it fast, the neighbors are going be here any minute now", you thought he's stop fucking the living shit outta since ur mom just came but no, instead he went faster, "Answer you mom baby, it's be rude if you don't", he said whispering into your ear. "Y-yes m-ma.. n-gh.. I-I'm almost d-done", you say trying to sound as slick as possible. "You okay hun ? You sound weird", your mom asks confusedly. "Y-Yes.. i-i'm fine.. jus- shit.. just h-hit my foot", your mom bought it and told you to be more careful and  just left. "Good job baby", Chan stated as he kept going. “Nghh.. baby f-fuck i’m gonn-”, “Come for me, y/n”. With Chan’s motivation and his deep thrusts, you cum so much even Chan notices that you never came this much. Soon after Chan follows and comes deep in your pussy, “Keep that cum inside ye.. Want you to be filled with me till I fill you up again” Authors Note: Hiee!! This is my first ever story hope you liked it! Feedback, recommendations and suggestions are very much appreciated <3 🫶🏻 © [2025] @hyunjinlosthisamericano. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.