vampzity

[vampzity]

YEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAWWWWWWWW

save a horse, ride a cowboy

chan’s look in the new bleep trailer has you thinking things that are far less than appropriate.

pairing: bang chan x reader wc: 1.4k tags: established relationship. porn without plot

🩷: you already know i had to hop on this as soon as i saw it. literally i RAN to google docs to make this as fast as possible

you’re curled up in bed, phone in your hands, trying to keep your face neutral—trying not to let your boyfriend know that the second he appeared on screen in a cowboy hat and layered chains, something in your brain short-circuited.

(it doesn’t work).

chan steps into the room—wearing exactly what’s making you lost it, much to your chagrin—just as you’re biting your lip, pausing the clip like that will somehow make you look innocent.

“what’s that?” he asks casually, dropping onto the bed beside you.

“nothing.”

he tilts his head. “mm. really?”

you shake your head quickly, but your cheeks are warm. you can feel his eyes on you, the way they linger, the little knowing curve of his mouth.

“play it,” he says, voice soft but leaving no room to argue.

your thumb hesitates, then taps the screen.

there he is again. thick silver chain dangling from where he has it caught between his teeth. the frame bears kind of look that should come with a health warning.

you glance at him. “it’s just the bleep teaser.”

“and you’re flushed because..?”

“shut up.”

he laughs quietly. “oh, i see. you like the cowboy thing.”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you didn’t have to.” his voice drops, and he leans in until his lips brush your ear. “you want to ride a cowboy, sweetheart?”

you swallow. hard.

he doesn’t wait for your answer—just shifts back against the headboard, spreading his legs a little, the faintest challenge in his gaze. “go on then.”

“chan—”

“hat stays on,” he adds, smirking while he slides off the cable knit. “so do the chains. i know you like them.”

your pulse trips over itself.

you straddle him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. the rough denim of his jeans brushes your thighs, the cold weight of his belt buckle pressing between you as his hands settle low on your waist.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something almost fond—but laced with amusement. “so eager to climb on and use me.”

you flush. “i’m not—”

“mm, but you are,” he cuts in, squeezing your hips just enough to make you rock forward over the ridge of his cock. “but it’s cute. my pretty girl, getting all worked up over a hat.”

he tips it lower over his eyes, the gesture slow, deliberate, infuriating. “go on, then. show me how badly you want it.”

your hands find his shoulders for balance, but chan’s grip on your hips is firm; controlling just how far forward you move, how much friction you get.

“don’t rush,” he says, voice almost a purr. “let me feel you get desperate for it.”

you bite your lip, shifting against him, and he tilts his head like he’s studying you. “already are, aren’t you?” his thumbs press slow, tight circles into your hips, guiding you into a slow grind over the outline of his cock.

the brim of the hat dips lower, shadowing his eyes, and the chains resting against his chest sway faintly with every movement. you can’t stop staring at them.

he notices. “what’s got you more worked up, sweetheart? the hat, the chains… or the fact you’re sat right on me like this?”

you try to answer, but it comes out as a breathy sound instead. chan chuckles. “aww, can’t even talk now? and we’ve barely started.”

with an easy shift, he unbuttons his jeans just enough to free himself, the heat of him pressing against your centre through thin fabric. his voice dips lower. “go on. sink down on me. you wanted the cowboy—now ride him.”

your breath hitches as you take him in, the stretch making your thighs tremble. his hands move up your sides, not to help, but to hold you in place once you’re fully seated.

“look at you,” he murmurs, smirk curling. “all snug around me, sitting pretty. you’re using me just like you wanted, aren’t you?”

you glare at him, but it’s weak—your hips already starting to roll.

chan leans back, watching every movement like it’s a performance made for him alone. “that’s it. take what you need, baby. you’re adorable when you’re this greedy.”

he lets you set the pace at first, soft praise slipping out between low groans—until your rhythm falters, and he catches your hips, taking control. the bed creaks as he drives up into you harder, the brim of his hat still tipped low.

“mm, there’s my girl,” he breathes, thrusts sharper now. “use me all you want. just remember—” he pulls you down until your chest is pressed to his, the chains branding a cool sting against your skin—“i’m the one letting you.”

his thighs flex beneath you, each upward snap of his hips stealing a breath from your lungs. you brace your palms against his chest, fingers curling into the skin stretched over his muscles, but it does nothing to steady you. chan is relentless now—driving into you with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly how much you can take.

“that’s it,” he hums, voice honey-sweet even as his thrusts make your body jolt. “ride me like a good girl. make it worth my time.”

the praise sinks into you, but the mocking lilt in his tone lights something hotter. you try to match his rhythm, but the power is his—grip on your hips makes sure of it.

“aww,” he drawls when you shudder around him, “my poor thing. you look so messy already… and we haven’t even started properly.”

the hat tips forward again, hiding the half-smile that tells you he is enjoying this far too much. “thought you wanted to use me. hm? now you’re just letting me fuck you, aren’t you?”

your nails drag down his chest in protest, but it only makes him laugh. “cute.”

he shifts, angling his hips so the next thrust has you gasping. he slows, teasing you with deep, measured strokes until you are whimpering into his shoulder. “say it,” he murmurs, “say you like being my pretty little cowgirl.”

you shake your head, embarrassment biting back the words.

his hand moves from your hip to your throat, tilting your chin up so you have to look at him under the brim of that damn hat. “say it, or i stop.”

the threat has you caving. “i like—i like being your… cowgirl.”

he grins, wicked and proud, and rewards you with a sharp upward drive that has your eyes fluttering shut. “good girl,” he breathes. “now, ride me properly.”

your thighs are burning, the ache in your muscles nearly matching the ache between your legs, but chan does not slow. the brim of that damned hat hides his eyes, yet you can still feel the weight of his gaze—steady, calculated, indulgent.

“look at you,” he drawls, tone dripping with mock-sympathy, “all worn out and you’ve barely done anything. thought my little cowgirl wanted to ride me.”

you try to keep moving, try to prove him wrong, but his hands clamp tighter on your hips. “mm… no,” he hums, holding you in place like you weigh nothing, “you’ve had your turn. now i’m going to show you how it’s done.”

the first upward snap of his hips knocks the air from your lungs. the next has you clinging to his shoulders, fingers slipping over his skin.

“ohhh,” he teases between thrusts, “so that’s what you needed? me doing the work?” his voice dips lower, his breath hot against your ear. “pathetic little thing. you’re only falling apart because i’m using you properly.”

you can’t even answer—each deep, brutal drive has you gasping, nails dragging down his chest. the chains at his neck bite cold against you when he pulls you flush against him, his chest rising with the effort of keeping his pace.

“that’s it. take it,” he murmurs, his tone softening but never losing that edge. you’re barely holding yourself together now, the pleasure flooding too fast to resist. you try to move, to do something, but his grip holds you exactly where he wants you.

“shh… let me,” he says, voice almost sweet, though the smirk curling his lips betrays him. “you just sit there and let your cowboy fuck you stupid.”

the brim of his hat dips forward again, shadowing the wicked glint in his eyes as he slams up into you one last time—hard enough to send you tumbling over the edge of your orgasm, shaking in his lap while his hands keep you exactly where he wants you.

your body sags against him, every muscle trembling, head lolling against his shoulder. the brim of his hat brushes your temple when he tips his head, voice dropping into something softer—still thick with satisfaction, but gentler now.

“there we go… all done,” he murmurs, one broad hand smoothing up your spine, the other still holding you secure in his lap. “look at you. all used up. barely even breathing properly.”

you make some faint, broken noise in reply—nothing coherent. it earns you a quiet laugh, warm against your hair.

“my poor little cowgirl,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. “all that big talk about riding me, and now you can’t even sit up straight.”

his hand drifts down, stroking over the sore curve of your hip, grounding you. “just stay here for a bit,” he says, easing his tone into something like a lull. “i’ve got you.”

the catalogue

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[vampzity]

thinking of taking some time to work on a halloween event ! i have some fics written that would work best for it that i might save until then!

plus it might boost my motivation to write again.. would you guys want a halloween event?

i would so be open to some ideas & requests for it !

[vampzity]

guess who’s seeing enha today !!! after almost 5 years of stanning i finally get to see them live im so excited 😝! (if yall didn’t know, im jay & sunoo biased)

[vampzity]

i literally fell off the face of the earth i’m so sorry lol

my motivation is literally in the dumps but i’m trying my best to write here and there !

how are yall?

[vampzity]

Are you taking requests?? Please do nsfw alphabet for Felix 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I begg

unfortunately i am not taking requests since im super busy and have no motivation to write atm 🥲💔 but im trying to get back into the swing of it !

[vampzity]

atz year 2, NO RAIN🙂‍↕️ i miss them already

[vampzity]

seeing ateez sunday YIPPEEE!

praying for no rain this time… 😾

[vampzity]

chat i’m literally head over heels for this girl & we’re not even official yet >.< i adore her with my whole heart

[vampzity]

OH THIS WAS SOOO GOOD UGH

Love Awaits -Han Jisung

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Pairings: bf!jisung x fem!reader

Summary: after months of not seeing each other you decide to surprise him by laying on his hotel bed~

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m and f), creampie, crying during sex, possessiveness, soft dom!jisung, begging (verbal), praise kink

Cosmos: be prepared for a request/draft spam as I'm bored and off work today <3 I apologize for my inactiveness

my library!

The hotel bed was still made when you got there, barely touched. A messy heap of stage clothes sat folded on the armchair, and his tour backpack leaned against the wall like it had been dropped in a rush. You sat there for a long time, curled in the center of the sheets, heart pounding, trying to believe you were really here. That it was really happening. That you were going to see him again, tonight.

You’d booked the flight two weeks ago. Jisung hadn’t known. He’d FaceTimed you the night before the concert, yawning and tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie, slumped in that same chair. He told you he missed you. That he was trying to stay strong, to not cry anymore over how much he wanted you beside him. You almost told him. Almost ruined the surprise.

But now, hours later, you were lying in his bed. Alone. Waiting. Nervous, breath shaky with anticipation, the hum of his voice still playing in your head.

“I want to hold you so bad. Can you pretend I’m with you tonight?”

You’d pretended for long enough.

The keycard slipped into the door sometime after midnight.

You froze.

His footsteps padded inside slowly, the soft thump of sneakers kicked off and dropped somewhere near the bathroom. A sniffle. Then a voice.

“Lights are off… weird.”

You pressed your hand to your mouth and sat up, breath caught in your throat.

“Wait—” Jisung’s voice cracked. “No way…”

He flicked on the lamp.

And then it hit him.

He stood in the doorway, utterly still. His hoodie hung off one shoulder, his mask still dangling from one ear. For a split second, he didn’t speak—didn’t even breathe.

Then his knees buckled slightly as he dropped his bag and whispered, “...Baby?”

You smiled through the thick burn behind your eyes. “Hi.”

He rushed to you like he didn’t trust his own legs. His hands were in your hair, on your waist, cupping your face like he couldn’t decide where to touch first.

“You’re here—you’re here—you’re fucking here—”

You laughed wetly. “You’re real.”

Then he kissed you.

And god, he kissed you like he’d been dying. Like he’d been empty for months and didn’t realize how bad it was until now. His lips were soft, but his mouth was frantic—open, desperate, trembling. He made a little whimpering sound when your hands clutched his hoodie and dragged him down on top of you. He climbed onto the bed without thinking, straddling your hips as he cradled your cheeks and kissed you deeper, longer, wetter.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours and his breath shook as he whispered, “I’m gonna fucking cry.”

You wiped his cheek gently, your thumb catching the tear that had already started falling.

“Me too,” you whispered.

He sniffled and laughed and kissed your jaw like he couldn’t stop. “This doesn’t feel real.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks,” you said. “I missed you so much, Ji.”

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice cracking. “I couldn’t even touch myself without crying. I kept trying to pretend it didn’t hurt being away from you, but—” he trailed off, and his lips trembled again. “I’m gonna lose it. I love you so much. I can’t even—”

You kissed him quiet, lips molding to his, soft and warm. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, let your body arch into his, clinging as much as he did. He was everywhere, all at once—hands brushing your arms, slipping under your shirt, holding your waist like he needed to anchor himself.

Your voice barely came out. “Then show me.”

Something broke in him.

He kissed you again—slow, reverent, trembling.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take my time. Just… let me have you tonight. Please.”

You nodded, gasping when his hands pushed your shirt up over your head. He peeled it off carefully, like you were something delicate, something he’d never get to touch again if he messed this up. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you. You were braless under the fabric, and he reached out with both hands to trace up your sides, eyes flickering between your face and your chest like he couldn’t pick which was more sacred.

He leaned in, kissing softly along the curve of your breast, breath shaking. “Still mine?”

“Always.”

“Then let me worship you.”

You barely had time to respond before he lowered himself between your thighs, eyes locked to yours, like he wanted permission to breathe. You nodded, already breathless, and his lips found your inner thigh.

Jisung kissed slow. Savoring. His mouth traveled up the inside of your leg, leaving a messy trail. Then he pulled your shorts and underwear off in one careful motion, holding your hips like he’d waited his entire life for this exact moment.

“God,” he whispered. “Look at you. You’re already wet—fuck, baby…”

“Been wet since you walked in,” you whispered, breath hitching as he blew warm air across your folds.

“Don’t say that. I’ll cum just from this.”

Then his mouth was on you.

And nothing else existed.

His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, sliding through your folds, teasing your clit with gentle circles. His hands kept your thighs spread, thumbs brushing your hips while he worshiped you with his mouth like he wasn’t just trying to make you cum—he was trying to say I love you with every stroke.

You cried out, hips twitching.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured into your skin, kissing your inner thigh before diving back in. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make up for all the time I wasn’t here.”

You nodded desperately, threading your fingers into his hair, trying not to cry from how good it felt—how intimate it was.

When his lips latched around your clit and he sucked softly, your hips jerked. He groaned, tongue flicking fast, chasing every sound you made.

“I’m—close—Ji, I’m—”

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “Please, baby. Want it so bad.”

And you did—hard.

Your whole body shook, legs clamping around his head, and he moaned into you like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He licked you through it slowly, helping you come down with soft kisses and warm hands.

When he crawled back up, his mouth was shiny, his lips swollen.

You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on him, moaning softly when he whined into your mouth. He trembled in your arms, still hard against your thigh.

“I wanna make you feel good too,” you whispered.

He gasped when you pushed him gently onto his back, straddling his hips. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, face already flushed. You leaned down and kissed his chest, then his stomach, slowly making your way lower.

“Baby—fuck—I’m not gonna last—”

“Let me take care of you,” you said, voice soft.

You took him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip first, then sinking deeper, your hand working the base. He cried out and grabbed the sheets, thighs trembling.

“Too much—too good—baby, please—”

You moaned around him, and that nearly broke him. His hips bucked, and he whimpered.

“Stop—please—I wanna cum inside you. Please—please—please—”

You pulled off, kissing your way back up to his face. “Then do it.”

He flipped you onto your back, shaking hands finding your hips, eyes still glassy with awe.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “Can I…?”

You cupped his face. “Jisung. I’m yours.”

He slid in with a trembling breath, slow and careful, his forehead pressed to yours as your bodies joined for the first time in months. You felt every inch, the stretch and fullness making you both gasp softly, clutching each other tighter like you were afraid the other might slip away.

He bottomed out with a quiet whimper, arms wrapping around your back as he sank into the cradle of your hips.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You feel like… you were made for me.”

You stroked his hair, lips brushing his ear. “You’re perfect, Jisung.”

He whimpered again, shivering above you. “I missed this. Missed you.”

You kissed him, softly—then again, deeper. Your lips barely left his as his hips started to move.

It was slow. Deliberate. He rocked into you like he had all night, like he didn’t want to rush a single second. His thrusts were smooth, rolling, dragging his length deep each time with wet, quiet sounds between your thighs. And every time he moved, he whispered something into your skin.

“You’re so tight. So warm.”

“I’m not gonna last long, baby—feels too good.”

“I wanna stay inside you forever.”

Your fingernails dragged lightly down his back. You arched into him, wrapping your legs higher around his waist.

He gasped as he sank deeper, the new angle making you both moan. “F-fuck, princess—oh my god…”

You cupped his cheeks, eyes meeting his. “Jisung—look at me.”

His eyes fluttered open, red and glossy. “Yeah—yeah?”

“You’re mine. You always will be.”

His face crumpled.

He kissed you desperately, sloppy and breathless, tears slipping quietly from the corners of his eyes. He moaned into your mouth as his hips picked up just a little more pace—still slow, but now with more urgency. His thrusts grew needier, wetter, your bodies pressed so close you could barely breathe.

The squelch of his cock inside you, the way he whimpered every time your walls fluttered around him—it was too much.

“I wanna cum inside,” he whispered. “I need it, baby. Please.”

You nodded, clinging tighter. “Do it. Fill me up, Jisung. Please.”

He groaned at that—like the words broke something in him.

He buried his face in your neck and started fucking you harder, faster—his hips slapping softly against yours, the bed creaking with the motion. Your name spilled from his lips like prayer.

“You feel so good—so fucking good, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” you begged, nails digging in as your own climax built again. “Inside—fill me up, Ji—please—”

His whole body tensed.

“Baby—fuck—I’m cumming—!”

He moaned your name as he pushed in deep and stayed there, cock throbbing inside you. You felt him spill—so much—hot and warm and thick, painting your insides as he trembled in your arms. His breath hitched with every spurt, and he sobbed once, overwhelmed by how full and close everything felt.

You came with him.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—your whole body tightening, legs locking around his hips, voice cracking as you fell apart beneath him. You clutched him like a lifeline, barely able to breathe, whispering his name as your walls fluttered around him.

He didn’t pull out.

He couldn’t.

He collapsed on top of you, still buried deep, both of you panting and sweaty and a little teary. His arms wrapped tight around your waist, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, brushing it back gently as he kissed your shoulder over and over.

“I love you,” he whispered against your skin. “So much. I don’t think I can breathe without you anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” you whispered back. “I’m not leaving.”

You stayed there for a long time—he didn’t move, didn’t pull out, just laid there, inside you, soaking in everything.

Eventually, he shifted slightly, face still tucked against your throat.

“Did I cum too much?” he asked softly, breathless.

You laughed, stroking his spine. “You definitely did.”

He groaned. “I’m sorry. I just… fuck, I needed you.”

You kissed his temple. “I needed you too.”

He slowly pulled out, and both of you winced at the mess.

His cum dripped from you instantly, and Jisung let out a breathy, broken noise. “That’s so hot I might pass out.”

You swatted his chest. “Clean me up first, then pass out.”

He giggled, soft and sleepy, grabbing tissues from the bedside and tending to you with careful hands. You could tell he was still shaky—emotionally and physically. He kept pausing just to press a kiss to your thigh, your stomach, your cheek.

Once you were clean, he pulled you into his arms under the covers, wrapping around you from behind like a koala. His face was buried in your hair, his breath warm on your neck.

“Don’t let go,” he murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Promise me this wasn’t a dream.”

You turned in his arms, facing him. His hair was a mess, eyes heavy with sleep, cheeks still pink.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him again. Long. Slow. Final.

“It’s real,” you whispered. “You’re mine.”

His voice cracked again. “Say it again.”

“You’re mine.”

He exhaled, a soft, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m yours.”

You both fell asleep like that—naked, warm, full of each other, tangled under hotel sheets with tear stains on your cheeks and his love all over your skin.

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[vampzity]

“You’re so handsome when you look up at me like this.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling it glide between them with ease. Yeosang let out a soft moan, his hand trailing further up your thigh.

“Anything to make you happy.”

He pressed his lips against your thighs as you felt his hands slip into your underwear. With every kiss he left, gave your blood a rush. Yeosang tugged at the band slightly, his eyes softening as he silently begged for you. You met his pleading eyes, nodding as you began to pull the underwear down. You watched as his face lit up with excitement, almost like he won the lottery— which in a way, he did.

You leaned up against the counter, feeling his hand lift your leg and toss it around his shoulder while he kept your other leg grounded to the floor. Once again, you raked your hand through his hair, watching as he lifted the hem of your nightgown.

“Need you so bad, Yeo.”

You felt his hand come up to spread your lips slightly, your cunt glistening right before him. A soft moan escaped you as he grazed his tongue over your entrance. He dragged it slowly, carefully, just enough to collect your taste.

You threw your head back in response, your fingers tangling through the mess of his brown locks. You pushed his bangs back, admiring the way his tongue flicked at your area. You felt his fingers slide into your entrance, moving in and out of you slowly as his lips kissed your bud.

“Fuck Yeo..”

His free hand held onto your leg, his thumb massaging your thigh softly as he lapped up your taste. It wasn’t long before he grew tired, lazily dragging his tongue along your slit. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed onto his hair, making him whimper out slightly as the a sudden tug.

He met your harsh eyes, your grip tightening along the scrunch of his ponytail.

“Tired already are we?”

He didn’t respond, only bringing his finger up to poke at your entrance. You took a deep sigh, still holding onto his hair as he pushed another one into you.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” His fingers curled inside of you, making you moan slightly.

“Be good boy and make me cum, yeah?”

Yeosang nodded, wincing as you continued to pull his hair. You pushed your cunt onto his lips, feeling his tongue tease at your sensitive bud while his fingers played inside you. You watched him squirm underneath you as he desperately tried to create some kind of friction in his pants.

He whined and he groaned, panting like a dog as you rode his face carelessly without giving him a moment to breathe. You tugged his hair harder, watching him yell out as your juices dripped down his bare chin.

“Sound so desperate, Yeo.” you breathed heavily, your cunt still slamming against his face.

“Fuck, harder.. please don’t stop.”

He obeyed— his tongue working tirelessly against your cunt. You begged, pleaded, pulled his hair harder and harder with every flick he dealt to you. His chin was soaked, glistening with your slick and hands messy from toying with you.

Within minutes you finished all her his face, practically drowning him with your slick. You felt your legs grow weak as he quickly moved to hold you upright. You wanted him to stop— you begged him, but he wouldn’t. He was hungry, eager, licking up every last drop of you.

You met eyes with him for a second, his forehead shiny from the bit of sweat that rolled down it. Yeosang’s eyes softened, giving you a soft puppy look as he sucked on your clit softly.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

He smiled softly, kissing your thighs as his thumb massaged your bud. Your hand was still wrapped around his ponytail as you watched him squirm, still desperate for some kind of friction.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” You gave him a sly look, watching his face glow red from embarrassment as he stopped squirming.

“You want me to touch you, is that right?”

Yeosang nodded quickly, wincing at your firm hold of his ponytail. You chuckled to yourself, pulling your leg off of his shoulder and letting go of his hair. You held his chin up to look at you, moving the hair from his eyes. You walked over to the bed, reaching into the drawer for a moment. You pulled out a choking collar and sat into bed, holding it out in front of him.

“Come and let me put this on you baby, I’ll make you feel better.”

💌: OUUU i loved this idea and had sm fun writing it !! im trying to be more active so expect some more short drabbles coming soon hehe

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★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill out the form here !

[vampzity]

if saja boys were real i fear my soul would’ve been taken instantly… 😗

[vampzity]

chat. i told the girl ive liked for a while that i had feelings for her … and she felt the same…. WE CHEERED💔

[vampzity]

When will you open your requests ;(((

i’m not sure ! i’ve been so busy working 8 hr shifts 5 days a week it gives me no motivation to write sometimes 💔 so i don’t wanna keep ppls requests waiting 🥲 i’ve been trying to write here and there tho!

i’m so sorry to anyone who’s waiting for my requests to open :(( i’m not sure when i will open them back up honestly.

[vampzity]

oh these pics have me acting up and it’s not good for my bias line….… MIND YOU hes on my bias line…

[vampzity]

saw this comment on a tik tok of bangchan.. will insert here…. the gears are turning …..

[vampzity]

hi pookies i just wanna come on here and say ofc sending hate to others is never okay !! no one should have to deal with excessive hate just bc their life comes before this little app.

though i also wanna say if anyone ever feels that i came at them some kind of way, or i ever made them feel uncomfortable or just overall horrible when defending someone else PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know! it’s never my intention to hurt someone else’s feelings when it’s undeserved ! :(

i ride or die for my people on here but of course things happen and i have a hard time interpreting the way things should be read, so that’s completely on me as i’m trying to get better with it!

once again pls don’t hesitate to reach out to me! i’m very understanding and more than willing to apologize! all i ever want is for this app to be a place where ppl can come together to read stories and make friends🖤

[vampzity]

GAHLEEEEEE THIS WAS GOLD

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗋 ᝰ.ᐟ

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽!)

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗋!𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇, 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 18+, 𝗌𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄 / 𝗌𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉 (𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 19, 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌 27), 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗆/𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 (𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒, 𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗋/𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖾 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼, 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾/𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗂𝗑, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽, 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗅𝗍, 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾.

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗈𝗋. 𝖺 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾, 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖼𝖾, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖼𝗈��𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗀𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖺𝗀𝖾: 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀-𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗈𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝖽𝖾. 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗍. 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 6650

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝗆.𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍!

a/n: i posted twice tdy, i know its late sorry! yeonjun: "last to kiss looses." love you guys! <3

you weren’t sure what you expected walking into your first real internship. a small office, maybe a friendly staff, maybe someone older who’d treat you like the clueless college student you were. you didn’t expect christopher.

the first thing you noticed was that he didn’t smile. not when you greeted him, not when he introduced himself as the senior executive assistant, not when he handed you the orientation packet and walked you through your role. he wasn’t rude. just... exhausted. closed off.

his voice was low and even, deep enough to echo faintly in your chest.

c: “you’ll be assisting me directly for now. your supervisor hasn’t returned from leave.”

you swallowed hard, nodding, not trusting yourself to speak. he glanced at you, then at the name tag on your lanyard, and back again.

c: “you’re nineteen?”

you nodded again.

c: “fresh into undergrad?”

you: “second semester.”

his expression didn’t change, but something in his tone did.

c: “don’t try too hard to impress people. just learn. this office burns through interns when they get too ambitious.”

you weren’t sure if it was a warning or a compliment, but either way, your stomach flipped.

that was the beginning.

he didn’t ask personal questions. he didn’t like when you asked any, either. you learned quickly to only speak when spoken to. he’d give you notes to summarize, emails to proofread, errands to run, but he’d never say more than he needed to. still, you watched him. closely.

the way he leaned on the desk with one hand in his pocket. the way he rolled up his sleeves. the way his jaw flexed when someone called his phone and he didn’t answer. there was always this... tension around him. like a thread pulled too tight, waiting to snap.

you stayed late one night during your second week, hoping to prove you could keep up. the building was nearly empty by the time you returned the filed documents to his desk.

he was standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. his voice was low and sharp.

c: “i said, i’m not doing this right now.”

a pause.

c: “you don’t get to call me and act like this is normal. it’s not.”

his knuckles were white around the edge of the desk. you froze.

c: “i told you. we're done, sana.”

sana. that was the first time you heard her name out loud. you backed away before he noticed, heart hammering. the door clicked shut behind you.

after that, something changed.

he wasn’t mean, but he was colder. snappier. he’d mutter under his breath sometimes, throw folders onto his desk hard enough to make you jump. but he never raised his voice at you. just everyone else.

you picked up the slack, staying past your assigned hours, quietly cleaning up the messes he didn’t have the energy to handle.

you told yourself it wasn’t because of the way his gaze lingered on your hands as you typed. it wasn’t because he started letting you sit beside him instead of across. it wasn’t because he said your name softer than he said anyone else’s.

you just... wanted to help.

one morning, he didn’t show up until noon. you were already at his desk, organizing reports he’d left in chaos the night before. when he walked in, sunglasses on and a coffee in hand, your breath hitched.

his tie was loose. his hair was messy. he looked exhausted. you stood.

you: “morning.”

he didn’t answer right away. just stared at you for a long second, then sighed.

c: “you’re early again.”

you hesitated.

you: “you didn’t finish these yesterday. thought i’d get ahead.”

he moved past you, slow and quiet, setting down his coffee.

c: “you don’t have to take care of my shit.”

your chest squeezed.

you: “you’re not the easiest person to work under.”

he glanced up.

c: “under, huh?”

your cheeks flamed. he didn’t laugh, but something about the smirk twitching at the corner of his lips made you want to sink into the carpet. he tapped the stack of papers you’d organized.

c: “thanks.”

it was the first time he said that to you. your throat felt tight. you kept hearing things.

sana’s name would pop up when he left the room, usually in whispers. a few coworkers joked about the “soap opera” happening in the executive wing, others avoided the topic entirely. you didn’t ask. you didn’t want to seem nosy.

but every time chris leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, you wondered if she was the reason for the dark circles under his eyes.

you hated that it made you feel better.

three weeks in, you were officially assigned as his assistant. no more shadowing. no more transitioning. just you and him.

he told you after hours, leaning against the filing cabinet with a beer in his hand.

c: “i requested you.”

your heart dropped.

you: “me?”

he nodded.

c: “you’re not afraid of me. most people are.”

you stared at him.

you: “should i be?”

he tilted his head.

c: “depends what you want from me.”

you laughed nervously.

you: “guidance? a good recommendation?”

his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

c: “you’ll get both if you survive me.”

you couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a promise.

when he started drinking in the office more often, you stopped questioning it.

he never got drunk. not around you. just... looser. more honest. when he offered you a sip one night while you worked late, you took it.

your fingers brushed. your skin tingled. he noticed. he always noticed. but he never said a word. not yet.

you started recognizing the pattern.

mornings were fine. quiet, efficient, all business. by mid-afternoon, the mood would shift. he’d close his door more often. snap at phone calls. take longer in the break room.

by the time sunset hit, he was someone else. not unkind. just… unraveling. you heard more of his conversations than you should have.

not on purpose. sometimes he left the door cracked open. sometimes you walked in without knocking. sometimes he just forgot you were there, tucked behind the filing cabinet or organizing reports near his desk.

you never meant to overhear. but you did.

c: “you’re the one who said we needed space, sana.”

c: “don’t act like this is some big betrayal. i didn’t lie. you left.”

and sometimes:

c: “i don’t want to do this right now.”

c: “no, not here. not with her here.”

you hated that part. with her here.

you were just his assistant. you weren’t supposed to matter. but sometimes it felt like you did.

you started dressing nicer for work.

just subtle things. tighter skirts. softer makeup. letting your blouse dip a little lower when you leaned over his desk. you told yourself it was for confidence. but when his gaze dropped to your mouth during meetings. lingered at your thighs when you sat too close, it felt like more than that.

you knew it was wrong. you knew he was vulnerable. you knew he wasn’t single, not really.

but it felt good to be looked at like that. especially by him.

the company dinner came at the end of the month.

everyone had to go. formal attire, small talk, networking. chris hated it. you knew he would before he even said a word. but he showed up anyway.

he wore all black. button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, silver watch glinting at his wrist. his hair was pushed back. he looked like sin.

you wore red. tight. too short.

when his eyes found you across the room, you felt it like a spark behind your ribs. you didn’t sit together. but his gaze never left.

it was near midnight when you left.

he offered you a ride. you said yes. he didn’t talk in the car. not until the second red light, when his hand clenched around the wheel.

c: “you looked good tonight.”

you swallowed.

you: “thank you.”

another beat of silence.

c: “didn’t like the way they were staring at you.”

you turned toward him.

you: “who?”

c: “everyone.”

he didn’t look at you. just kept driving. jaw tight. fingers twitching. when he pulled into his building’s parking garage, you blinked.

you: “this isn’t my dorm.”

c: “i know.”

you didn’t say no when he asked if you wanted to come up. you didn’t say anything at all.

his apartment was clean, but not lived in. like someone who didn’t spend much time inside his own head. the couch was too stiff. the lights were too low. there was a bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter, half empty.

he poured two glasses. handed you one. you sipped. then he spoke.

c: “she cheated on me.”

you froze.

c: “sana.”

your mouth opened, nothing came out.

c: “months ago. i didn’t tell anyone. didn’t want them to see me differently.”

you set the glass down.

you: “why are you telling me this?”

he leaned back against the counter, tilting his head to look at you.

c: “because you look at me like i’m still worth something.”

your breath caught.

you: “you are.”

he stared at you. long. slow. eyes dark.

c: “don’t say that.”

you: “why not?”

he stepped closer. the room shrank around you. your heart thudded. he whispered:

c: “i wanna kiss you.”

it wasn’t rough. not at first. his hand curled behind your neck, fingers firm but gentle. his lips pressed into yours like he’d been thinking about this for weeks and didn’t want to mess it up.

you gasped when his tongue slid against yours, and he swallowed the sound.

his other hand splayed across your waist. you felt small under him, delicate. he kissed you like it meant something. like you weren’t just his intern, or his assistant, or nineteen. you kissed him back like you forgot all the reasons you shouldn’t.

c: “tell me to stop.”

he whispered it against your mouth. desperate. scared. you didn’t, shacking your head. he kissed you harder after that.

your back hit the counter. his hand slid under your blouse. his fingers were warm against your bare skin, calloused, slow.

c: “fuck.”

he said it like a prayer, like a warning.

c: “been trying so hard to be good.”

you whimpered when he pulled your dress down.

you: “c-chris..”

hearing you call his name broke him.

his hands were everywhere. tracing your waist, your thighs, the soft stretch of your stomach. he dropped to his knees like he needed to worship you. like this was some holy thing. he kissed your skin slowly, reverently. lips brushing over your hipbones, your inner thighs. then he looked up at you.

c: “you want this?”

you nodded, dizzy with it.

you: “please.”

he smiled. not smug. soft.

c: “good girl.”

and then his mouth was on you. you cried out, head thrown back, hands in his hair. he was relentless. slow, thorough, lips curling around your clit with practiced skill. you’d never felt anything like it.

when you came, you shook. when he stood, his lips were shiny with you. he kissed you again before you could speak.

c: “gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

you believed him. he didn’t fuck you that night. not all the way.

he fingered you open on the couch. two thick fingers stretching you slowly, working you through another orgasm while you sobbed into his chest.

c: “too small to take me yet.”

he said it gently, like a promise.

c: “we’ll fix that.”

you nodded, breathless. you didn’t ask what this meant. you didn’t ask about sana. you just fell asleep on his couch, in nothing but underwear, aching between your legs.

when you woke up, he was gone. but his jacket was draped over you.

he didn’t look at you for two days.

he still spoke to you. short, clipped phrases, voice flat and professional. but his eyes never met yours. not in meetings. not in passing. not even when you knocked on his door and set his coffee down beside him like always.

you thought maybe you’d imagined it.

maybe the whiskey, the late night, the way his mouth felt on your thighs. maybe it was all just some consequence of him breaking apart. maybe you were a placeholder. something easy. something young.

but on the third day, everything changed again.

you stayed late finishing a report someone else was supposed to do. he’d sent a single text at 6:42 PM: c: “still in the office?”

you didn’t answer. not with words. you knocked gently on his door a few minutes later. he didn’t say anything, just gestured for you to come in. he was alone. lights dimmed. jacket off. you sat down across from him, heart thudding.

you: “i wasn’t sure if you wanted me to-”

he cut you off.

c: “i haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

you blinked.

you: “what?”

he leaned forward. forearms on his desk. voice low.

c: “you.”

your breath hitched.

c: “how tight you were around my fingers.”

your thighs clenched. you looked down.

c: “the way you begged.”

he stood slowly, rounded the desk. your whole body tensed as he came to stand behind your chair.

c: “you’re too young for this. you’ve never had someone like me.”

you: “b-but i want it..”

he bent forward, lips brushing your ear.

c: “then get up.”

he didn’t take you to the couch. this time, he bent you over his desk. your palms were flat against cold wood. your skirt pushed up over your hips. panties peeled down so slowly it made you shiver.

c: “you trust me?”

you nodded. you felt his hand slide down the length of your spine.

c: “you’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

you: “y-yes, chris.”

the moan he let out was soft. dangerous.

c: “say it again.”

you: “c-chris..”

c: “fuck.”

his fingers were slick with your arousal before they even reached your entrance.

c: “so wet already. you like being used like this?”

you nodded, whining when he pressed a finger inside you. he curled it. you gasped.

c: “i should’ve known.”

he added a second.

c: “knew you’d be tight.”

you: “i-i want more.”

c: “more? princess, this is just the warm-up.”

you whimpered when he pumped them harder. you were dripping. soaking his hand, trembling against the desk.

c: “you can barely take two. how’re you gonna take my cock?”

your breath caught.

you: “i’ll do anything. p-please.”

he growled low in his throat.

c: “you’re gonna have to learn.”

you nodded frantically.

he made you get on your knees next. face pressed into the carpet. ass in the air. skirt bunched at your waist. he stood behind you, watching. you heard him unzip. you didn’t dare look.

c: “you sure?”

you: “please..”

his hand slid between your legs again. he was so careful. so slow. his cock pressed against your soaked folds, rubbing up and down, not quite entering. just teasing. just warming you up.

c: “you’re tiny, princess.”

you moaned.

c: “need to get you used to it first.”

and then the tip pushed in.

your jaw dropped. no sound came out. he stayed still.

c: “breathe.”

you tried. you really did. he was thick. so thick. stretching you in ways you’d never felt before.

you: “chr-”

c: “shh. doing so good.”

he pushed in another inch. then another. your hands clawed at the carpet.

you: “it’s t-too big.”

c: “you can take it. i know you can.”

he didn’t move too fast. didn’t rush. he coaxed your body to open, whispering praise the entire time.

c: “good girl.”

c: “that’s it.”

c: “taking me so well.”

when he bottomed out, your body was shaking.

c: “fuck, baby.”

he pulled out slowly, then slid back in. you sobbed. from pain and how full you felt. how completely he owned you in that moment.

c: “tightest pussy i’ve ever felt.”

he started to move. slow strokes. dragging himself out, pushing back in just a little deeper each time. your voice was broken.

c: “not done yet.”

he reached around to rub your clit, smirking when your hips jerked.

c: “there you go.”

you came hard. nearly collapsed. but he didn’t stop. he pulled out with a wet sound, then lifted you up. turned you to face him, legs spread over his desk now. you were dripping down your thighs, wrecked, shaking.

c: “gonna do that again.”

you: “i-i c-ca-”

c: “you can. you want to be mine, right?”

your eyes fluttered.

you: “yes..”

c: “then take it.”

and you did. again and again. he made you come twice more before he finally let himself go. pulling out to finish across your stomach, moaning your name like it meant something. when it was over, he cleaned you up gently. kissed your lips softly. then whispered:

c: “next time, i'll go deeper.”

you nodded, dazed. you were already addicted. it started happening after hours. always after hours.

he’d wait until the rest of the office cleared out, until the halls were quiet, until you were the only one left organizing files or rewriting emails for him. then he’d lock the door. close the blinds. take off his watch and roll his sleeves up.

c: “up.”

he’d nod toward the desk, and you’d climb up without hesitation. thighs parting, eyes wide, waiting. his fingers always came first. then his cock. never all the way. not yet.

c: “you’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

you: “yes, chris.”

c: “good girl.”

he was careful. methodical. like he was building you into something. like every stretch, every thrust, every orgasm was part of a process you didn’t fully understand. but you trusted him with it anyway.

by the third week, he was fitting half of it in.

you could feel the difference. your body wasn’t fighting it anymore. he’d murmur praise the whole time, his voice dropping into that rough, low register that made your stomach flip.

c: “you’re learning so fast. tight little pussy starting to open for me.”

sometimes he’d have you ride just the tip while he watched. hands on your hips, guiding you.

c: “that’s it. bounce. just like that.”

you’d moan through your teeth, thighs trembling, trying to please him.

you: “am i doing good?”

and he’d always answer the same way:

c: “you’re perfect.”

you started needing him.

not just the sex. not just the stretch and the pressure and the mind-numbing release, but him. the way he spoke to you. the way he touched you after, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face. the way he held you against his chest and breathed in the scent of your skin like it grounded him.

he was still seeing sana. sort of. you didn’t ask. he didn’t explain.

but sometimes you saw her name flash across his screen during late nights. he never picked up. just stared at the phone, jaw tense, before setting it down again. you told yourself it didn’t matter. but sometimes, it did.

friday came faster than usual.

you wore a tight navy dress, one he hadn’t seen yet. you felt his eyes follow you from the printer to his desk and back again, burning holes in your skin the entire time.

by 6:30, the office was empty.

you waited for the lock to click. it didn’t. he stood up slowly, eyes still on his monitor.

c: “we’re going to the conference room.”

you blinked.

you: “what?”

c: “now.”

he didn’t give you time to respond. just grabbed his laptop and started walking. you scrambled to follow.

the conference room was bigger than his office. softer chairs. darker windows. a long mahogany table that echoed slightly when you set your palms against it. he closed the blinds. then turned to face you.

c: “take off the dress.”

your breath hitched.

you: “here?”

c: “you want to learn how to take my cock or not?”

your thighs clenched at the tone. rough. low. almost mean. you stripped fast. no teasing this time. no slow peel. just pulling fabric over your head and letting it fall to the floor. you didn’t wear a bra. his eyes dropped.

c: “on the table.”

you hopped up. legs spread. he knelt between them.

c: “gonna make you come first.”

you gasped when his mouth hit your clit. no warning, no buildup, just suction. he licked and licked until you were grabbing the edge of the table, legs shaking, hips bucking.

you came in record time. and again. and again. he only stopped when your thighs started twitching, eyes glassy, lips parted in disbelief.

c: “now you’re ready.”

you barely registered the sound of his zipper.

but you felt him.

the stretch was deeper tonight. more intense. he pushed in slow, watching your face, waiting for any sign of resistance. there was none. you were soaked. ruined. ready.

you: “chris, fuck-”

c: “you’re taking more of me than ever.”

you looked down. you weren’t even halfway.

you: “i-i want it all..”

his eyes darkened.

c: “you can barely handle this.”

you: “i’ll do anything..”

he pulled out, flipped you over. bent you face-down over the table, one hand on your lower back to keep you in place.

c: “then hold still.”

he pushed in again, slowly, inch by inch. the angle was brutal. deeper, sharper. you were moaning uncontrollably, legs trembling, nails scratching the wood.

c: “this what you wanted, baby?”

you: “yes-”

c: “stuffed full in the office like a little fucktoy?”

you sobbed.

you: “chris, i-”

c: “say it.”

you: “i-i’m yours..”

he groaned like it broke something inside him.

c: “fuck, i know.”

he started moving faster, hips slapping against your ass, cock dragging over all the spots that made you see stars.

c: “my assistant. my good girl. my tight little princess.”

you were crying, coming again, babbling into the table.

he didn’t stop.

he didn’t stop until you went limp, wrecked, dripping down your legs, begging for mercy. he pulled out just before he finished. jerking himself over your back, panting, moaning your name.

then silence.

he helped you up gently. held your body close, rubbed your spine while you caught your breath. then:

c: “you took almost all of it tonight.”

you blinked up at him, still dazed.

you: “r-really?”

he smiled. cupped your cheek.

c: “next time, we go all the way.”

your heart stuttered.

you: “next time?”

his thumb brushed your lower lip.

c: “you’re mine now.”

it started with the phone call.

the one you overheard when you were supposed to be finishing a report. you heard his voice through the closed door. low, familiar, the kind of tone that always made you feel like you were standing too close to something dangerous.

c: “sana.”

his voice was stiff, strained, like he was already exhausted. this wasn’t a good sign.

you tried to ignore it. really, you did. the soft thud of his voice as he spoke to her, the way he asked if she was “coming by later,” and then the awkward silence that followed.

you’d heard that kind of silence before. it was always there when they were struggling. always there when he was torn between his career and his relationship. you hated that you knew it so well. hated that it still made your stomach drop to hear his voice soften just a little when he mentioned her.

your phone buzzed on the desk.

c: “can you come in here?”

you swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before you stood. your legs felt heavy as you walked to his office. when you stepped inside, he was already sitting behind his desk, phone set aside. his eyes flicked to you immediately.

c: “come here.”

you hesitated, but only for a second.

he looked different.

not just the tiredness in his eyes, but something more. something darker. when you stepped close enough, he reached out to pull you into his lap. you tensed, and for a split second, you thought he might say something about her. you thought he might mention her name again.

but he didn’t.

his hands were rough against your thighs, making you shiver.

c: “you’re distracted.”

you blinked. 

you: “what?”

c: “you’ve been avoiding me.”

his fingers dug into your skin. your breath hitched as you tried to pull away.

you: “i hav-”

c: “don’t lie.”

his voice dropped an octave. harsh. possessive.

c: “you’re distracted. you’ve been thinking about her, haven’t you?”

you flinched.

you: “no.”

he gave you a pointed look. 

c: “don’t lie to me.”

the words hung between you like a challenge. an accusation. you weren’t allowed to lie anymore.

his grip tightened, pulling you flush against his chest.

c: “i can feel it.”

you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat. there was no hiding from him.

his lips were barely an inch away, his breath warm on your cheek.

c: “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you: “yes.”

his hand slid under your skirt, and you shivered. he groaned at the softness of your skin. 

c: “i can’t let you go.”

his thumb stroked over the waistband of your panties.

c: “let me have you.”

you: “chris, please-”

he cut you off with a harsh kiss. deep. possessive. you melted into him, hands gripping his shirt, gasping as his lips trailed down your neck.

c: “let me mark you.”

your heart raced.

you: “mark me?”

he nodded, his teeth grazing your ear. 

c: “make sure you know you belong to me.”

his mouth slid down your collarbone. the pressure of his lips was intense, bruising, and you moaned quietly.

c: “tell me you’re mine.”

you: “i’m yours.”

he groaned, hands sliding under your dress. he pushed your panties to the side with one swift motion, his fingers slipping between your folds. you gasped as his thumb circled your clit.

c: “so wet already.”

he pushed a finger inside you. then another. slowly, teasingly. you moaned, hands gripping his shoulder as he stretched you.

c: “you want me to fuck you?”

you nodded desperately.

you: “please, chris, please.”

he pulled his fingers out slowly, leaning back just enough to watch your face. 

c: “no more games.”

he unbuckled his belt, and you watched, heart pounding, as he pushed his pants down, revealing his thick cock.

he pushed you back onto the desk.

c: “on your back.”

he wasn’t gentle anymore.

he pushed into you hard, making you gasp. he didn’t wait for you to adjust. he just took what he wanted. took you.

c: “so fucking tight.”

he fucked into you relentlessly, hips slapping against yours with every thrust. the desk rattled beneath you. his hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head.

c: “tell me you’re mine.”

you: “i’m yours..”

he groaned, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper.

c: “you’ll always be mine.”

his cock slid in and out of you at a punishing pace, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. you couldn’t think. couldn’t breathe. couldn’t do anything except feel. his mouth claimed yours again, swallowing your moans as he fucked you harder.

c: “say it again.”

you: “i’m yours, chris..”

he cursed under his breath. 

c: “good girl.”

he came inside you, the heat spreading deep in your core. he groaned, his body shaking as he pulled out slowly, keeping his eyes on you. you barely had time to recover before he pulled you up into his arms, his lips soft on your forehead.

c: “you’re mine, baby. always.”

you closed your eyes, a feeling of contentment spreading through you. the ache between your legs, the feeling of being filled. all of it yours.

but in the back of your mind, something lingered. a fear, maybe. a doubt. the phone call. sana. the way he looked at her name. you wanted to push it down. ignore it. but it was there. and you didn’t know if it would ever go away.

you were trying to pretend nothing was happening.

trying to go back to being just his assistant, just the girl in the pencil skirt who brought him coffee and took notes and smiled when he made a joke during meetings.

but it wasn’t that simple anymore.

not when you had marks on your thighs that only he could’ve left. not when your panties were still damp from the way he’d fucked you over his desk last night. not when you could still feel the ghost of his lips at your neck every time he passed behind you.

he wasn’t pretending either.

he’d stopped hiding it. completely. he was always watching. always close. hands on your lower back when no one was looking. brushing his fingers along your thigh under the table. calling you into his office for things that could’ve easily been an email. just so he could watch you squirm while he sat behind his desk with that knowing look. and then there was today.

the first time it happened in public.

the office had been buzzing all morning. a new project. senior managers from another branch visiting. you were tasked with helping prepare the pitch deck, which meant sitting in on a lot of meetings you normally wouldn’t.

which meant sitting across from him.

it was the longest you’d gone without touching in days. you thought maybe it would be okay. that you could keep your cool, be professional, not let what happened last night cloud your judgment.

but chris had other plans.

he watched you the entire time. every time you looked up, his eyes were already on you. when you shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together discreetly, he tilted his head. when your pen slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor, he watched you bend to get it like he’d imagined it a hundred times. and when you sat up straight again, cheeks flushed, heart racing. he smirked.

you wanted to scream.

you thought maybe that was it. that he was just teasing you. that he was trying to push your buttons. until the meeting ended. and one of the managers. some guy from out of town, a little too friendly, a little too bold. approached you while everyone filed out.

him: “you’re chris’s assistant?”

you nodded, polite smile in place.

him: “i have to say, they didn’t mention you were this pretty.”

you blinked. awkward. flustered.

you: “um. thank you-?”

he leaned in a little. 

him: “you free for lunch?”

you opened your mouth to decline, and then you saw him.

chris.

watching from the doorway. his expression was unreadable. but his jaw was clenched. his hand in his pocket. his eyes locked on the two of you like a threat. you turned back to the other guy.

you: “i have a meeting.”

him: “oh?”

you: “with my boss.”

you felt chris move before you saw him. he was behind you in a second, his hand firm at your waist, his voice calm but cold.

c: “she’s not available.”

the guy blinked. 

him: “right, of course. no worries.”

chris didn’t say another word. just waited until he walked away. then leaned in close enough to graze your ear.

c: “come with me.”

you barely made it to his office before he slammed the door shut behind you. you didn’t even get a word out. his hands were on you instantly. spinning you around, pressing your back to the door, mouth crashing into yours like he couldn’t wait another second.

you moaned into the kiss, hands in his hair, pulling him closer. he groaned when you tugged, hips pinning yours against the wood.

c: “he touched you?”

you: “no.”

c: “he looked at you.”

you: “i didn’t do any-”

c: “you let him talk to you.”

his tone was dangerous. jealous. possessive.

you: “i said no.”

he exhaled roughly. fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

c: “you’re mine.”

you nodded. breathless. his hand slid under your skirt.

c: “say it.”

you: “i’m yours, chris.”

he didn’t waste another second. he pulled your panties down roughly, letting them fall to your heels. his fingers stroked through your folds and he cursed under his breath.

c: “fucking soaked.”

he undid his pants quickly, not even bothering to sit down. just pushing your thighs apart and lifting one leg around his waist as he lined himself up.

you: “someone coul-”

c: “don’t care.”

he pushed in, slowly but firmly.

you gasped. the stretch always burned at first, but it was addicting. you’d been craving it all morning. he pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in. you cried out, hands scrambling for purchase against his shoulders.

c: “say it again.”

you: “i’m yours- i’m yours, fuck-”

he fucked you hard against the door, his thrusts deep and punishing, one hand gripping your hip, the other around your throat, just enough to remind you who you belonged to. his teeth grazed your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

c: “no one else gets to touch you.”

c: “no one else gets to look.”

c: “you’re mine to ruin.”

you came with a broken moan, your body shaking in his arms. he wasn’t far behind. his hips stuttered, his breath caught, and then he was spilling inside you. pulsing, groaning, holding you still as he filled you up. you slumped against him, panting. his hand stroked down your back.

c: “i need everyone to know.”

you: “know what?”

his voice was low. dangerous.

c: “that you’re off limits.”

you left his office fifteen minutes later.

hair fixed. dress straightened. your panties balled up in his pocket. and when you passed the same manager in the hallway, he barely glanced at you. but you felt it. chris’s eyes on you from the corner. his stare, hot and hungry, never letting go.

you should’ve been more careful.

you should’ve taken your time packing your bag, should’ve avoided the elevator that late in the evening, should’ve texted him before heading back up to the office. but you didn’t.

you were the last one there. the building was mostly dark. a few floor lights still buzzing with that fluorescent hum. you just needed your charger. and maybe a few minutes to breathe. but when the door to his office cracked open, when you saw that warm light spilling out onto the hallway carpet. you knew you weren’t alone.

you pushed the door open slowly. and there he was. chris. sleeves rolled, tie loose, shirt open just enough to show the deep ridge of his collarbone. he didn’t even look surprised to see you.

c: “knew you’d come back.”

you hesitated.

you: “i forgot my charger.”

he stood up slowly. walked around the desk. the air changed when he looked at you like that. not annoyed, not amused but calm, heavy, intense.

c: “sit.”

you blinked.

you: “chris-”

c: “what did i say?”

you obeyed. your thighs pressed together automatically as you sank into the leather seat. your heart was pounding already, but you weren’t scared. you were anticipating. he stood in front of you, arms crossed, his voice dangerously low.

c: “you’ve been avoiding this.”

you swallowed hard.

you: “i haven-”

c: “don’t lie.”

he knelt down slowly between your legs, resting his hands on your knees.

c: “you’ve let me fuck you, tease you, fill you halfway.”

his fingers crept higher.

c: “but you’ve been holding back.”

your breath caught in your throat. you knew what he meant. the size training. the way he’d stopped himself from going all the way every time. the way he’d make you beg, then pull out when you got too tight. because he was too big, and you weren’t ready.

but now…? now his hands were curling under your thighs, tugging you closer.

c: “no more excuses.”

c: “you’re going to take all of me.”

your core pulsed at his words.

you: “chris…”

c: “don’t worry.”

his voice softened. his hands smoothed up your sides.

c: “i’ll make it fit.”

he kissed you slow, tongue sliding against yours, patient but possessive. he took his time undressing you. undoing each button like it was sacred. peeling your shirt off, unclipping your bra, dragging your skirt up until it bunched at your waist.

c: “so pretty like this.”

you watched with wide eyes as he unzipped his pants, freeing his thick cock. hard, already dripping. intimidating. you licked your lips. he caught the movement.

c: “you want it?”

you nodded. breathless.

you: “please..”

he laid you down across the couch, parting your legs slowly, kissing each thigh before pulling your panties off. he was gentle at first. two fingers. then three. working you open, coaxing slick from you with every soft curl of his wrist. he watched your face the whole time, making sure you weren’t overwhelmed.

c: “you’re doing so good.”

you moaned, eyes fluttering.

c: “gonna take me so well, baby.”

he lined himself up. his tip pressed against your entrance, and you gasped at the stretch already and he hadn’t even pushed in. you clutched at his shoulders as he slid in inch by inch. slow. thick. deep.

you: “s-shit, chris-”

he kissed your cheek, whispering against your skin.

c: “breathe, baby. i’ve got you.”

you tried. really. your body was trembling already, walls fluttering around him, and he wasn’t even halfway. he paused, rubbing circles on your hips.

c: “you okay?”

you nodded, nails digging into his back. he smiled. dark, proud.

c: “that’s my girl.”

he kept going. inch by inch, stretching you wide. your walls burned, your breath hitched, your legs shook. but you didn’t stop. and neither did he.

you: “i-its too m-much.”

c: “all the way, princess. just a little more-”

when his hips finally met yours, when he bottomed out completely, you almost sobbed. you were so full, you couldn’t think. couldn’t breathe. your body felt like it was on fire. he didn’t move. just kissed your forehead, nose, lips.

c: “you did it.”

c: “you took all of me.”

you moaned, your voice trembling. he smiled against your skin. 

c: “you were made for me.”

when he pulled back and thrust in again, the air left your lungs.

you: “chris-!”

his rhythm was slow. deep. precise. every drag of his cock felt like he was reshaping you, molding you around him.

c: “gonna fuck you just like this. every day.”

c: “train you to take it better. deeper.”

you cried out as he hit a spot so deep it made your vision blur.

you: “i c-ca-”

c: “you can. and you will.”

he pressed your knees up, folding you under him, pushing even deeper. you sobbed out a moan, tears slipping down your cheek.

c: “that’s it. cry for me.”

c: “you love it. being full. stretched. ruined.”

you were shaking. you came hard. full body, overwhelming, the kind that made your limbs go numb. and he kept fucking you through it.

you: “too much- chr- i’m gon-”

c: “do it.”

c: “cum on my cock while i fill you up.”

he groaned as your walls clamped down, and then he was spilling inside you, deep and messy, his body shuddering as he collapsed over you. both of you panting.

both of you wrecked.

he didn’t pull out right away. he just held you. kissed your jaw, your shoulder, your chest. his cum was dripping down your thighs. you didn’t even care. his voice was quiet against your temple.

c: “you’re mine now.”

you nodded. whispering it back.

you: “yours.”

c: “no one else gets to touch you.”

he smiled. soft. but there was something in his eyes. that hunger, still there, even now.

c: “i’m not done with you.”

you knew that already. because this wasn’t just a one-time mistake. this was possession.

and he wasn’t letting you go.

© 𝗌𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒𝖾: 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽. 𝖱𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀/𝗆𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽. 𝖳𝗋��𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽.