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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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when the bed gave up on life (hyung line)

ot8 reactions | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack | light smut warnings: language | suggestive content a/n : (testing new posts layout, it will probably change again idk) i always try to not write cliché gym rat changbin... but it has jokes potential so yeah lol. ✧ hyung line | maknae line

bang chan

“C’mere” Chan growls flipping you onto your stomach. You gasp, already dizzy “Holy shit-okay-aggressive!” “I said I’d make you feel it” he grunts, pressing into you, “so shut up and-” CRRREAK. SNAP. Silence. You’re on the floor. The mattress is sideways. A piece of the frame bounced. Chan’s still inside you “…Did the bed just die?” you whisper, stunned. He’s frozen. Still holding your hips. “I-I think I just alpha’d the IKEA out of it.” You collapse face first into the blanket, wheezing. Chan pulls out gently like he’s scared touching you will trigger another collapse. “I’m so sorry,” he says, horrified. “Are you hurt??” You look up with tears in your eyes...from laughing “You fucked us into poverty” He starts pacing. Still naked “I JUST WANTED TO MAKE YOU SEE STARS” “You did! But the bed saw heaven!” --- Five minutes later, you’re both wrapped in the blanket on the floor, drinking water and staring at the broken frame like it’s a crime scene. Chan sighs. “That was expensive.” You snort. “tell me about it” He looks at you, grins. “You still wanna finish?” You raise a brow. “On what the rug?” He shrugs. “Bet it won’t break.”

lee know

You’re clinging to the headboard. He’s behind you, low growling, full feral mode, hips snapping. “Don’t even try to run” he pants. “You wanted this.” You gasp “Min- the bed’s creaking-” He grips your hips tighter. “So are you. Guess which one I care about more.” CRRREEAAAK. SNAP. THUD. You drop. Flat on the mattress, now tilted at a cursed 45 degrees. Minho flops on top of you like a sweaty, breathless. Silence. “…Did we just fall?” You’re wheezing into the sheet. “THE BED BROKE YOU PSYCHO.” He slowly lifts himself off you, glancing around checking the crime scene. Then calmly : “…It was probably loose before we started.” You sit up, wild-eyed. “I literally heard you say ‘I wanna break you tonight.’” “I meant emotionally. That bed just had bad build quality.” “...Minho, one of the legs is across the room.” He shrugs. “That’s not my fault. That’s gravity. And weak screws.” You glare at him, tangled in sheets and shame. He wipes sweat off his chest with a smug little annoying smirk. “You’re welcome by the way.” “For WHAT?!?” “For the experience. You’re glowing.” "Oh my god" --- Later, you lie together on the mattress, which is on the floor now, panting and sore. You mutter “we need a new bed.” He hums, already falling asleep “...and it better be able to handle me”

changbin

It starts innocent enough... LIES. Sweat is dripping, you’re moaning, he’s muttering things like “You’re so tight,” “I love this angle” and “This is why I do leg day" (??) The bed is screaming. You clutch the headboard “It’s creaking-” “I’M CREAKING TOO BABY STAY FOCUSED—” CREEAAACKK. SNAP. BOOM. The bed dies. You both collapse mid-thrust like the mattress got drop-kicked by karma. You gasp. “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Changbin is hovering above you, wide-eyed, hair sticking up like he got electrocuted “…Did I break the bed?” You stare. “Are you asking me while you’re still inside me?!” He slowly pulls out, rolls to the side, and looks around at the hurricane damage. One bed leg is completely gone. A bolt rolled under the dresser. He exhales. “That’s kinda hot though.” You blink. “You BROKE our BED Binnie!” “I told you I was strong” You smack his arm. “This isn’t CrossFit! This was my peaceful coochie session!” He giggles. --- He grabs his phone. “Wait. Wait. I need a pic. I gotta show the guys.” “DON’T YOU DARE” He grins. “I’m putting ‘broke the bed during sex’ on my gym progress tracker.”

hyunjin

You’re on top, breathless, hair sticking to your forehead, hands planted on his chest. Hyunjin’s gripping your thighs, eyes rolling back as you ride him. “Fuck-yes...just like that, baby...” CREAAKK. SNAP. THE WHOLE RIGHT SIDE DROPS. You scream as the mattress collapses, pitching sideways. Hyunjin yelps, legs flailing as you both go crashing down mid-thrust. A full thud echoes across the room. Silence. Then his voice : “…WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” You’re tangled in blankets, still half on top of him. “DID YOU JUST ASK ME LIKE I PLANNED THAT?!” He stares at you with wide, scandalized eyes. “YOU WERE ON TOP THIS IS YOUR FAULT.” You sit up, offended. “I was riding you into heaven and the bed flopped.” He throws a hand up dramatically. “EXACTLY I WAS LITERALLY JUST LYING THERE BEING SEXY AND SUPPORTIVE.” You glare “supportive?? You kept yelling FASTER like I was a fucking engine!” He rolls off the broken half of the bed and flops onto the floor like a naked fish “The bed wasn’t ready for that kind of passion. I wasn’t ready. My ass hit the wood slats” You cover your face. “I think I bruised my knee.” --- 10 minutes later, Hyunjin is sprawled across the mattress on the floor “we need a new bed. And... knees.” You open one eye “You still came though.” He chucks a pillow at you.

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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⪩ 𖹭 ⪨

straykids ( bangchan ) lockscreens

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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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thinking about...

...Chan holding you steady.

163 words | smut | a continuation of @delulustardust's science request

Recent studies have shown that 83.3% of scientists agree that Chan's finger skills are S tier.

Look at the way he's holding the cylinder– two fingers inside, not too deep, just enough to keep it stable.

Exactly how he does with you, those same fingers hooked inside you, inside your cunt, keeping you still. Crooked just a few millimeters short of perfection while he rolls the hood of your clit back with the other hand.

Grinning at you wickedly before *tapping* directly on it, the intense shock of pleasure making your hips jerk. Biting his tongue in the side of his cheek as he does it again. And again. And again.

He's barely fingering you, really. You're the one moving your hips.

Like he doesn't know that every jerk of your hips– the way your body instinctively flinches away from too much sudden stimulation– corrects the crook of his fingers, pressing them right against you're g-spot.

Really your fucking yourself, he's just holding you steady.

banner by @saradika-graphics. taglist is open. @sthaay @bluesungology @chrizzztopherbang @avnche @kemkem33 @mikaelless @lvrgrl-xo @eevenus @furioussheepluminary @sheerfreesia007 @aasthamoon @amazinglystay @delulustardust @galaxy4489 @lil-bear08 @abby-loves-aphrodite @a-jazzy-bitch @minhooofr

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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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“fuck me” “say please”

idol!bangchan x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: smut, established relationship, one-shot

summary: "i just know you couldn’t live a day without my cock"– you and chan decide to see which one of you breaks first from not having sex.

warnings: creampie ⋆ oral (f) ⋆ kissing ⋆ thigh fucking ⋆ degradation ⋆ dom/sub dynamics ⋆ switch!chan and switch!reader implied ⋆ mentions of breeding ⋆

~ ~ ~

“you're definitely the needier one in this relationship, you know that, right?”, chan says, leaning on the kitchen and watching you make your tea.

you glance at him over your shoulder and scoff, “you’re joking, right?”

chan’s giving you an amused, cocky smile now. “you can’t have already forgotten how you were literally drooling over my dick last night and begging me to fuck you dumb”

“then what about the other day when you came in your pants just from eating me out?”

chan’s ears turn red as he stares down into his coffee mug but he’s refusing to give up. “–that was just because you wore that pretty underwear i like… i just know you couldn’t live a day without my cock stuffing your needy pussy ~”

“you’re deluding yourself now.” you sigh in fake sympathy, shaking your head.

and that’s how your little game of who would give in first, started.

a week has passed since then and things have been going fine... up until now. you're lying on the sofa all comfy, and you know you shouldn't have, but as soon as one thirst trap of chan popped up in your feed–you couldn't help yourself. after going down a long spiral of thirst traps of him, you finally put your phone down and try to calm down.

chan’s still in the shower, unaware of the extreme mental struggle you're going through. you close your eyes in an attempt to sleep but all you can think of is chan; his smile, his body rolls, his smirking face, his dimples– everything is playing on a loop in your head.

you stand up, walk around the room, touch the table, stare at the ceiling and pour yourself a glass of water.

the sound of the shower next door stops and soon chan’s walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. you avoid looking in his direction when he walks in, but you steal a glance when he’s turned away from you. his curly hair is damp and dripping droplets of water onto his neck that run down his back. his muscles flex slightly as he wipes his towel over the back of his shoulders.

you choke on your water in silence and desperately wish chan would just leave.

'wet' is an understatement for what’s happened between your thighs; you’re soaking like a bitch in heat seeing a dick for the first time.

chan, being his usual cuddly self, comes over and hugs you from behind.

“baby, you feel a little warm. are you okay?”

“mhm” you nod. but the way you shiver when he speaks against your head isn’t convincing. his arm brushes against your breast unintentionally and you moan softly.

“ahh, my babygirl’s feeling horny, is she?” he runs his hands over your thighs.

you give in and lean your head against his chest, “mm~ yes, chan, i can’t stand it anymore.”

he grabs your chin so your face is inches from his. your lips brush his and you whisper, “fuck me.”

a gentle smile spreads over face and his voice is almost condescending as he replies, “say please.”

but something inside you won’t let you say it– maybe it’s your silly pride. so instead you say, “make me, chan.”

he bites his lip and easily moves you so you’re bent over the counter. he presses up behind you, placing open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he pulls down your panties and rubs your clit, fast and rough– enough for your legs to give out, leaving you slumped over the counter, gasping. he pushes your thighs together, shoves his cock between them and begins thrusting hard– each time, the tip rubbing against your swollen clit.

and then he pulls away from you, pressing down on your back so you can’t move.

“sluts like you with no manners don’t get what they want, mmkay? so be a good girl for me and say, ‘please, chan, fuck me and fill me up with your cum’- while spreading that cute ass. i know you can do it, sweetheart.”

as you reach a hand back to spread your butt, exposing your dripping cunt, you mumble against the cool marble of the counter, “mm, fuck, please, chan… please fuck me”

“almost ~ you forgot the ‘fill me up with your cum’ part” he places a hand over your neck.

you do as you’re told and say, “chan, i can’t– just, please fuck me- fill me up– breed this pussy, please please plea-” but chan’s already thrusting into you, hard. the truth is, he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have; his breeding kink isn't helping either. he couldn’t stop now, even if you begged him to.

“you’re so fucking warm and, shit, so tight around me… perfect– taking me like this.” he’s rambling from how good it feels to finally be inside you after an entire week.

you whine and tremble as you feel yourself about to cum. you can tell chan’s close from how his breathing has gotten ragged and his thrusts are getting sloppier.

“gonna breed this pussy ‘m gon’ fuck a baby into you-” chan mutters as you both cum.

he lifts you up so you're sitting, facing him on top of the counter. he pushes your thighs apart and sweetly kisses around your cunt. “ahh, chan, you don't have to– ‘s too sensitive”

“i’ll be gentle; just need to clean you up”, he says before licking into your folds.

later, after you’re both cleaned up, chan can't help reminding you that he was right about your little game.

“i knew you were gonna give in first. so dependent on my cock, aren’t you~” he cooes before kissing you softly.

you pull back, all defensive, “like you can say much– you came so fast”

chan laughs, “says the person who begged me to breed her.”

“that was just to get you to put it in, you pervert… you made me wait forever.” you reply stubbornly.

“fine, fine… just, how about we never do this kind of challenge again– it's torture.”

“mmkay~” you say, secretly a little relieved, “and also, don’t make me beg like that again.”

chan whispers right into your ear as he walks past, “but i know you liked it~”

you squirm and roll your eyes, not wanting to accept the part of you that would gladly beg for chan on a daily basis.

‘say please’, you hear his voice in your head as you scoff, remembering his annoyingly smug face from before– but you know you'll get him back for it sometime soon.

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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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chan + fem!reader • warning! slow burn sensual smut. use of aphrodisiac. soft dom!chan. oral(f receiving). dry humping. light kink (breeding kink implied). • 4,6k • m.list

Teaser ⟩ a candle lit during a power outage filled the room with a soft vanilla scent—completely unaware of the aphrodisiac hidden within. as the night grew warmer, so did chan’s need, his hands wandering with a desperate hunger he couldn’t deny.

the sound of rain tapping against the window pulled your attention away from your phone. It was pouring, like the sky was dumping buckets, and yet chan was still locked away in his studio. you didn’t want to go to bed without him, so you decided to wait—but his work was taking longer than expected.

a flash of lightning suddenly lit up the entire room, followed by a loud clap of thunder that echoed through the walls. you decided to check on him one last time, but as soon as your feet slid off the edge of the bed, darkness swallowed the room whole.

the power had gone out.

the house, already quiet, grew even more still, but the silence didn’t last long. footsteps made their way to your door, slow and steady, and moments later, chan stepped into the room—with the flashlight on his phone lighting his path.

despite how tired he looked, his lips curled into a soft smile the second he saw you. “I almost thought you cut the power just to stop me from working,” he teased lightly, stepping closer. he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead—and somehow, the simple warmth of his lips against your skin made the heaviness in your chest loosen for a moment.

“I guess it’s finally time to use those candles we bought,” chan said, his voice suddenly excited. you let out a quiet laugh—he always had a thing for scented candles, always talked about how those sweet, hazy scents helped him relax during stressful work nights.

you followed after him as he left the room, his flashlight guiding you to the kitchen. he rummaged through one of the drawers for a while—until he finally pulled out a few candles, smiling softly as he found the ones he’d been looking for.

lifting one up, he brought it closer to his nose, inhaling the familiar scent before handing it to you.

he watched you closely as you leaned in toward it. “like it?”

a soft vanilla aroma spread around you, not too strong, but enough to gently tickle your nose, and make your head feel just a little hazy. “mhm...yeah,” you nodded, meeting his eyes, “It’s already warming me up somehow.”

after lighting the second candle, chan joined you on the bed, the soft glow and warm scent wrapping around you like a blanket. you felt a deep sense of calm settle in, the room quiet except for the rain tapping gently against the windows.

a comfortable silence lingered for a while—

until you felt his hand resting over yours.

“you’re cold,” he said softly, pulling you closer to his chest. he guided your hand over his heart, fingers intertwining as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

In that moment, you both quietly thanked the power outage. as if the universe had turned everything off just to make room for this.

“your skin... it’s so soft.” his voice came out barely above a whisper. his thumb continued to caress the back of your hand in slow, almost reverent circles. but something shifted—like the gentle touch wasn't enough anymore.

his fingers traveled upward, brushing past your wrist with featherlight strokes, gliding along your arm with deliberate slowness. when he reached your shoulder, he paused for a moment—then changed direction, sliding down along your side until his hand slipped beneath your shirt.

the sudden contrast of his warm palm on your bare waist made you inhale sharply, your breath hitching in your throat. the scent of vanilla that once felt comforting now wrapped around your senses more densely, almost dizzying.

you blinked, realizing the drowsiness from earlier had completely dissolved.

and It wasn’t just you.

beneath your hand, you felt his chest rise and fall—uneven, shaky, like he was trying to suppress something. your eyes met his, and in an instant, his gaze dropped to your lips. “something...” he muttered, voice hoarse, thick with tension. “It’s burning inside me.”

a tremor rippled through him as he exhaled—

not from fear, but restraint. like he was fighting the instinct to pull you closer, to drown in whatever was growing between you.

you weren’t any different from him. the heat pooling between your legs was almost dizzying, making it hard to keep your body still. your senses felt heightened—like every breath, every touch, was amplified and humming under your skin.

chan noticed the way your body tensed beneath him, and without a word, he gently laid you back against the mattress, sliding on top of you with careful precision. his hands braced on either side of your head, framing your face in the flickering glow of candlelight. the shadows danced across his features, but it was his eyes that truly pulled you in.

“do you feel it too?” his voice was low, gravelly, as if each word scraped against the edge of restraint. his gaze was locked on yours, but there was a tremble in his eyes—not his hands, not his breath—just his eyes. he looked torn. like he was fighting something inside him—a need, an ache, that had started small but was now unbearable.

something was crawling under his skin, not just lust, but something deeper, something possessive… addictive. the scent, the warmth of you, the way you looked at him—it was undoing him slowly.

his fingertips hovered near your cheek but didn’t quite touch. the space between you buzzed with tension, thick and electric. It felt like…if you reached for him, just once—he’d give in entirely. but for now, he was holding on by a thread.

waiting.

needing your permission to fall apart.

you didn’t answer. there was a burning lump in your throat, like your body was reacting faster than your words ever could. so you simply nodded—just the slightest movement. but it was enough for him.

chan’s breath hitched, his chest rising in one deep inhale as he closed his eyes. something shifted. he moved slowly, his hand sliding down to your wrist. even that soft touch made your whole body flinch, from the sheer sensitivity that had taken over you. everything felt amplified. It was like every nerve was tuned to him.

he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, not harshly, but firm—like he needed to keep you grounded, like he was afraid you'd slip away if he let go.

then, he leaned in. you felt his breath ghost across your neck, hot and slow—and your own breath stuttered in your chest.

“my heart’s racing,"

he whispered, voice nearly cracking under the weight of it. his eyes were shut, his lips barely grazing your skin as he breathed you in. “I feel like I’m touching you for the first time…”

the brush of his nose against your neck made your thighs press together, a quiet plea your body whispered before your voice could.

“chan…” his name slipped out, soft and broken—barely a breath. but even that was enough to draw a low, guttural sound from deep in his throat. you heard the muttered curse under his breath, thick with restraint.

he lifted his head. his eyes met yours—blazing, dark, desperate.

and there it was.

a single bead of sweat rolling down his temple, catching the flicker of candlelight as it fell. but you knew. that heat wasn’t from the room. It was from him. from whatever it was coursing through his veins, setting him on fire.

he leaned in closer, one hand planted firmly beside your head, the other still wrapped around your wrist like a lifeline.

“I can’t—” his voice cracked, low and wrecked. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

just after those last words left his lips, chan leaned in and captured your mouth with his. the kiss was messy—rushed, almost desperate. he moved like he was chasing something he couldn’t quite reach, each press of his lips followed by a shallow breath, only to dive back in like it still wasn’t enough. his hands didn’t move much, but his mouth said everything; hungry, breathless, wanting.

when the kiss finally broke with a soft, wet sound, his lips didn’t stop. they traveled down to your chin, then dipped lower to your neck. you felt him there—teeth grazing the skin, a delicate bite that sent a wave through your body. his breath was scalding hot against your throat, so vivid it made your pulse thrum louder. you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into him completely, silently offering your body up to be explored. and he did—like he’d waited too long for this, like he wasn’t just touching your skin, but claiming every inch of it with reverence and quiet hunger.

his hands were restless, moving with a clear intention. before you knew it, they slipped under your shirt. the moment his fingers brushed over your already stiffened nipples, a low, satisfied sound escaped his lips.

he pulled back for a second, just enough to create distance, though the pressure below was already starting to ache. his hand found yours, guiding it slowly down—right to where he was hardest.

"can you feel that?" he whispered, voice barely audible yet full of desire. the second your palm cupped the heat of his arousal, he shut his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath that trembled between control and need. you nodded silently in response. "good," he murmured, lips curling just slightly. "now come here."

within seconds, you were straddling his lap, the heat of your body settling right over his aching length. the thin layers of clothing between you did nothing to dull the friction—if anything, it made everything worse. chan’s hands gripped your hips firmly, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. he pulled you against him, grinding you down with a desperation he could barely contain. a guttural sound rumbled from his throat, low and raw. "f-fuck—" he choked out, his voice ragged.

the pleasure shot through him like lightning, overwhelming and fast and almost too much. the way your weight pressed down on him, how your heat aligned perfectly with his swollen arousal—it was driving him insane. for a second, he thought he might actually come undone right there, just from the pressure, from the way you fit against him like that.

every breath he took was heavy, laced with need. his head dropped against your shoulder as he muttered, “fuck, why does this feel so... intense?" for a moment, he seemed lost—like he couldn’t quite place what was happening to him—but the hunger in his eyes said it all. he didn’t want to stop. not now. not ever.

he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to stop. every time your clit brushed against his hardness, a sharp pulse throbbed deep inside you, demanding more. you couldn’t hold back, your hips began to move slowly, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence.

chan clenched his jaw, fingers digging harder into your hips as if trying to anchor you down. your name slipped from his lips, not as a plea but almost like a reprimand—like you were doing something you shouldn’t, and he was supposed to warn you.

"If you keep going—" he warned, voice low and strained, "I’m gonna... come right here, in my pants."

gross, chan thought, a flash of embarrassment prickling through him at the idea of coming just from the friction—without a single finger inside his pants. but his body didn’t care.

It was too warm. too damn hot.

every piece of fabric on him suddenly felt heavier, like a suffocating weight pressing down, making it impossible to think clearly.

chan’s pre-cum seeped slowly through the fabric, warm and slick, pooling in places that made it impossible to think straight. his breath was shallow, unsteady as a bead of sweat traced a slow path from the curve of his neck down to his collarbone. he inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself, but his mind was already consumed.

his hands slid from your hips up to your shirt without hesitation, gripping and pulling it up. you raised your arms to help, your bare skin coming into view, heart pounding against his gaze.

a shaky breath escaped him as his eyes locked onto your chest. unable to resist, he took you beneath him again, his gaze never leaving your breasts. fingers toyed with the edge of your shorts, exploring with deliberate intent while his lips descended to your skin.

he licked your nipples slowly, tasting, teasing, then bit gently—soft enough to make you shiver but sharp enough to mark the moment. every sound you made, every subtle reaction of your body, was etched into his memory, fueling his hunger all the more.

his lips traveled downward, tracing a slow path to your stomach. he glanced up at you, eyes dark and intense, before murmuring a gentle command, “lift your hips, baby.”

you obeyed without hesitation, helping him pull your shorts and underwear down together. his hands reached your inner thighs, urging you to part them just for him.

a deep sigh escaped him as his eyes took in the glistening wetness, illuminated softly by the flickering candlelight. you caught the subtle swallow he tried to hide, the raw hunger barely contained beneath his calm exterior.

then he leaned down, fingers sliding out slowly from your slit to feel just how wet you were. his two thumbs gently parted your lips. he didn't care how messy or soaked you were. he wanted more. a slow drip of spit slid down, warm and deliberate, and at the touch of his breath, your hips jerked involuntarily.

chan bent to the spot where his saliva had landed, dragging his tongue over you in a slow, hungry lick from bottom to top. a satisfied sound rumbled deep in his throat as a subtle vibration pulsed through your pussy, sending shivers that echoed deep inside you.

his tongue lingered around your entrance, circling it with slow, deliberate motions, tasting you like something forbidden and sacred. then, as if the need consumed him whole, he buried his face deeper between your thighs, like he wanted to disappear inside you.

your moans came out louder, less controlled. your chest rose and fell rapidly, the heat overwhelming, his mouth relentless. there was a rhythm to his tongue, steady and calculated, but maddening—perfectly torturous.

when he finally pulled back for just a moment, you saw it—the glistening shine on his lips, your wetness coating him like proof of his obsession. he looked wrecked. chest heaving, pupils blown wide. and then, in a rough growl that came from deep in his throat, he muttered, completely undone "you're dripping… fuck, you're soaking my face."

and still, his fingers dug into your thighs like he never wanted to let go, like your taste was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"come on my face, yeah?" he asked in a single, ragged breath, his voice cracked open with desperation. his eyes —those eyes— never left yours, dark and heavy with hunger, dragging every last bit of restraint out of you. something stirred deep inside you at the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he’d ever crave. everything already felt too much, too warm, too intense...and his gaze made it impossible to hold on.

and despite asking, he didn’t wait for an answer.

he dove back in. tongue relentless, lips messy, completely lost in the taste of you. your hands found his hair, fingers curling, hips moving without thought. the pressure in your core tightened, unbearable, unbearable, until—

your breath shattered.

It hit all at once, like a wave crashing through you, body seizing as you cried out, a broken moan torn from your throat. he didn’t move an inch, didn’t ease up, not even as you came. Instead, he groaned into you, deeper than before, letting your release coat his face. you could feel how soaked he was, how wet everything had become —his mouth, his chin, the noises he made— obscene, low, needy.

when he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen and glistening, jaw tight like he was barely holding it together. he looked up at you like he’d just been baptized, completely wrecked. “you’re so beautiful when you fall apart for me.”

he whispered—his voice low, reverent. the corners of your lips lifted ever so slightly at the praise, a breath of calm wrapping around you both, if only for a heartbeat.

but then you felt it—his bulge, twitching and throbbing beneath the strained fabric of his pants, pressed firm against your thigh. that quiet moment shattered in the heat pooling between you.

a soft grunt left his lips, and he pressed his forehead to yours, breath hot and uneven. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t keep these on,” he muttered, almost to himself. desperation dripped from his voice.

he pulled back just enough to shove his pants down with shaky hands, underwear following fast, revealing just how painfully hard he was. his cock sprang free, flushed, veined, the tip glistening from how worked up he’d been just from pleasuring you.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled, voice tight and raw. “I’ve waited long enough…”

he lined himself up, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance—hot, leaking, throbbing with the kind of need that made his breath catch. his eyes fluttered closed for a second, fighting the urge to just sink in all at once.

but he didn’t. he couldn’t. not when you were looking up at him like that. not when every shaky breath of yours curled around his ribs like a soft plea.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” he whispered, voice thin and trembling. “wanna feel every inch of you…”

one hand gripped your thigh, anchoring himself, while the other gently caressed your cheek—his thumb brushing over your lips like he was grounding himself through touch.

and then, so slowly it made your breath hitch, he pushed in. just the tip.

a low moan spilled from his mouth, half-choked, needy and raw. “fuck—so warm… you’re gonna ruin me already” he murmured, barely above a whisper, like the words weren’t even meant to be heard.

he paused, panting softly as he tried not to lose himself right then and there. his fingers dug into your skin as he pressed in a little deeper, inch by inch, reverent, almost shaking. he whispered again, like it still hadn’t fully hit him. “feels too good…”

his hips trembled, not from movement, but from restraint. every time he sank deeper, it was followed by a quiet, desperate sound—something between a sigh and a moan—like your body was unraveling him second by second.

chan stayed still inside you for a moment, not daring to move. his fingers gently caressed the softness of your hips, forehead resting against yours, breaths tangled in the warm space between. chest to chest, skin slick with sweat, the silence around you was only filled by your shared, shaky exhales.

the candle’s flickering light danced lazily across the walls, casting golden shadows that curled and slid along chan’s back. every time the flame wavered, the glow would shift, revealing the tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles strained from holding back.

you had just come undone from his mouth—your body still trembling, overly sensitive. so when he slid into you, slow and deliberate, the stretch was overwhelming. your eyes fluttered shut, lips parted with a breathless gasp. the fullness was too much. too intimate. too good.

he noticed.

"too much?" he whispered, his voice strained, as if he was barely holding himself together. “fuck. you’re so tight, I can feel everything…”

his own sensitivity showed all over his face. his brows were furrowed, lower lip caught between his teeth. he’d been waiting—aching—for this, and now that he was finally inside, every second was electric. but he still didn’t move. his hands just roamed over you softly, and he leaned into your neck, breathing you in.

“just… let me stay here for a second,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. “I can’t move yet, I’ll fucking lose it.”

your chest was rising and falling quickly, body still buzzing with leftover waves. the pressure between you both was intense—almost unbearable in the best way. his breath grazed your skin as he clung to the moment, buried in you, not even fully inside yet, but already trembling from the closeness.

and then—the candle flickered again, the flame making a soft crackling sound just as chan began to move. carefully. gently. but with something trembling beneath the surface, something desperate.

he pulled out slowly, barely halfway, just to ease back in again, deeper this time. the stretch burned just right, your walls fluttering around him, still soaked and pulsing from before. you gasped, hands gripping his arms, fingertips sinking into the muscle like you needed something to hold onto before you lost yourself again.

“c-chan,” you whimpered, voice shaking. “too deep…”

he froze instantly, chest heaving against yours, clearly affected by the sound of your voice—by the way you said his name. his hand found your jaw, tilting your face to look at him.

“tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, breath warm against your lips. “I’ll stop—fuck, I’ll stop if you need.”

but you didn’t want him to stop. not even close. you shook your head, a soft breathless, “don’t,” escaping your lips.

that was all he needed.

he rolled his hips again, still slow, but firmer now. every thrust was calculated, intentional. he wasn’t slamming into you. no. he was feeling everything. memorizing everything. letting himself get drunk off the tight heat around him, the way you clenched every time he pushed a little deeper. the candlelight flickered again, briefly illuminating his flushed face, the raw emotion in his eyes.

“oh my god..” you breathed out, arching your back, your body moving to meet his rhythm without even thinking. he groaned softly, lips ghosting over your collarbone. “you feel so fucking good… fuck, baby, you're perfect—just like that, yeah?”

his thrusts grew slightly faster, a little deeper with every push. you felt everything. the wetness. the fullness. the way he pulled out almost completely before sliding back in with a soft, desperate sound caught in his throat.

“please,” you whispered, voice cracking. he looked up, eyes wild and glassy, breath caught. “what do you need, sweetheart?” he asked, barely able to speak through how much he was holding back.

“you. just—don’t stop.” and he didn’t. his rhythm built slowly, pressure curling deep inside you with every thrust. he reached places that made your toes curl, your eyes roll back. each movement was rougher, needier. controlled at first—but clearly unraveling.

“you’re taking me so well,” he murmured into your skin. “so fuckin' tight around me… it’s driving me insane.” you moaned his name again, and it nearly broke him.

your body trembled beneath him, every thrust pushing you closer to that dizzying edge. your nails dragged down his back, leaving faint red trails he wouldn’t mind seeing the next morning. “chan— fuck— I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby,” he gasped, voice cracking as he tried to keep his pace steady—but it was slipping. “I feel you. you're so close… I can feel it.” his hips snapped forward harder now, rhythm reckless, losing any restraint he had left. the slap of skin meeting skin echoed louder, messier, more desperate. his breath stuttered against your neck as he muttered broken praises—"so good," "so tight," "my pretty baby taking it all"—like a prayer on repeat.

“you’re squeezing me—fuck, just like that—don’t stop, please don’t stop—” his voice cracked on the last word, and his hand slid down between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. “let go for me, sweetheart. wanna feel you come on me again. need it.”

your legs wrapped tighter around his waist instinctively, pulling him impossibly close as your climax finally crashed over you—sharp, electric, overwhelming. you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew, body spasming beneath him, and he nearly collapsed from the way you pulsed around him.

“shit—fuck—” he groaned, losing rhythm entirely as you clenched down, milking every last bit of control out of him. he buried his face in your neck, breath hot and ragged, hips stuttering.

“where do you want it, baby?” he rasped, voice barely holding together, needy and frantic. “tell me. please."

his rhythm turned frantic, deeper, rougher, chasing the edge with all the restraint of a man starved. your body was still trembling from your orgasm, oversensitive, twitching with every thrust—and he could feel it. feel how you clenched around him, how your walls fluttered, inviting him in deeper, tighter.

“shit—baby—” he hissed, voice cracking into a moan. “you’re gonna make me—fuck—”

he barely managed to lift his head, his gaze locking with yours, pupils blown wide, lips parted and trembling. “wanna come inside,” he breathed. “let me… wanna fill you up. need to—fuck, I need to.”

you nodded, barely coherent, breath catching. “yes, please… inside, chan.”

that was it. he let out a raw, guttural sound—somewhere between a sob and a growl—as he sank deep and stilled, buried to the hilt. his body tensed above you, head dropping to your shoulder as his hips twitched through the release. warmth flooded into you as he came, wave after wave, chanting your name like a lifeline.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, breath shaky. “fuck.. I’m so deep in you… you take it so well. you’re meant for me.”

you could feel every throb, every pulse of him inside, and it only made you cling tighter. the air was thick with the sound of your breaths, your heartbeats syncing, bodies tangled, still trembling from the intensity.

after a moment, he raised his head, kissed your temple with a soft hum. “you okay, baby?” he whispered, voice hoarse and full of warmth.

and god, despite the sweat, the mess, the ruined sheets—everything felt perfect.

the air felt heavier now—not from lust, but from the silence that came with release. the rhythm had slowed, and so had time. your skin buzzed with the aftermath, oversensitive, warm, kissed all over with sweat and love. chan collapsed beside you with a soft groan, still catching his breath, hand reaching for yours instantly, fingers locking like it was instinct.

neither of you spoke for a few seconds. just… breath. the kind that came from letting go too much and feeling too much.

he nuzzled into your shoulder, hair damp, his voice barely a whisper. "you okay? was that… too much?" you shook your head softly, too blissed out to form words. so instead, you turned, tucked your nose under his chin, and let out a hum—content, safe, full.

“I can’t believe we actually—” he started, then cut himself off with a sheepish laugh. you felt it rumble in his chest before he said, “I think I literally begged you to come on my face. that—uh. that happened.”

you burst into a breathy laugh, your body jolting slightly from the sudden movement. “yeah, you were kind of…” you paused, pretending to think, “feral.”

chan groaned and covered his face. “nooo, don’t remind me. that damn candle or whatever was in that incense—pure evil.” you looked over. the candle on the desk flickered innocently, as if it hadn't just witnessed the filthiest hour of your lives.

“It’s still going,” you teased, “should we be scared?”

“we should file a restraining order.” he deadpanned.

but then, he got quiet again. and his hand came up to trace slow circles on your side, his voice barely a breath. “but seriously… you’re so beautiful when you fall apart for me.” the words hit different now. no lust behind them. just warmth.

and for the first time since it all started, your eyes met in the dim candlelight—no tension, no rush. just two people wrapped up in each other, sweaty, tired, and impossibly soft.

If you enjoyed it, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments and see a reblog! thank you so much for your support!

taglist: @velvetmoonlght @laylasbunbunny @inishij @m-325 @itvenorica124

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mayumirawr · 2 months ago

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BANG CHAN ♡ CHILL 5-STAR DOME TOUR IN JAPAN

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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・❥ SYLUS P LINKS!

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: some twt links for my mafia daddy sylus!!!

a/n: in order for these to work , you have to have twitter downloaded and an account that you're logged in on. enjoy<3

- he's just so cruel :(

- fingering in the tub is his idea of aftercare

- he spent money on that vibrator.. he expects you to use it

- what happens after he begs you to sit on his face

- you didnt tell him you wouldnt stop?!?

- eepy morning sex :P

- subby!sylus who?!

- princess kinkkkkkk

- you're begging him to pay attention to you

- drunk on ur taste

- having you on his lap is his favorite thing ever

- 👅

- spankings with meanie!sylus

- you just like the feeling of him in your mouth

- he let you be on top

- he'll let u do whatever u want to him when he's needy

- his toys are way too small

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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when the bed gave up on life (hyung line)

bang chan

lee know

changbin

hyunjin

⤷ main m.list ❟

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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channie dom aud please… 🥹🥹

DOM CHAN AUDIO

Mdni!!!!

Dom Chan letting you press a vibrator onto his tip for the first time <3

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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i had some NASTY thoughts earlier so im gonna leave them here,

Chris is the type to pull out almost completely until just his tip sits inside, and then pushes back in at an agonizingly slow pace. he's not even rough with it, he just loves the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so perfectly that he wants to relish in it.

Jisung is the type to barely even pull out because he's soooo pussy drunk and obsessed with the way you suck him in like he's meant to fit inside you. He's barely even pushing into you because he isn't pulling out almost at all, he's just humping you with his cock sitting inside and yes, he's a whiny mess.

Jeongin is the type to pull all the way out and leave you empty for a few seconds before pushing back in until he's buried balls deep in your walls. He'll do it hard, too. Hard and fast. And he'll do that over and over until his patience snaps and he has to fuck into you like it's his lifes purpose.

alright back to your daily schedule LOL

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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⍣ ೋ cw: explicit sexual content, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mdni

thinking about bangchan when he makes you cry during sex for the first time.

it’s accidental, at first — he’s just fucking you through your third orgasm, slow and deep, moaning into the crook of your neck while his cock drags against the sore, slick heat of your cunt like he wants you to feel every twitch, every throb, every thick pulse of his cock as he fills you up all over again. your body’s trembling under him, oversensitive and aching, but he doesn’t stop — just presses his palm flat against your lower stomach, groaning low at the way he can feel himself inside you, the way your walls spasm around him like they’re trying to milk him dry. your breath catches, hips stuttering, a hiccup of a moan escaping you that sounds too close to a sob. he slows. looks down. and fuck — you’re crying. lips parted, eyes shining, tears slipping lazy and hot down your cheeks as your body writhes under his like it doesn’t know whether to run or take more. and god, he should stop. he knows he should stop. you’re clearly overstimulated, wrecked and ruined and stuffed so full of him that your poor pussy can’t decide whether it loves it or hates it — but your cunt is still clenching, still sucking him in, and all he can think is: you’re crying cause of how good it feels. you’re sobbing beneath him because your body can’t handle the way he’s giving it to you — slow and deep, filthy and loving, all praise and filth knotted together while he fucks you like he wants to stay buried inside you forever. and it breaks something in him. flips a switch he didn’t know he had. because now he’s throbbing inside you harder than before, cock thick and leaking as he grinds deeper just to feel your tears roll hot against his cheekbones when he kisses you, just to hear you choke on another moan like the pleasure is too much for your body to bear. he didn’t know it would feel this good. didn’t know seeing you fall apart for him like this would make him lose his mind.

thinking about bangchan after he realizes he’ll never fuck you the same way again.

because now he needs it. now it’s not enough to just make you cum. now it’s not enough to hear you moan or whimper or even beg — now he needs the tears. the red-rimmed eyes and shaky hands. the little hiccup in your throat when your body starts tipping over the edge again, the flutter of your overstimmed cunt around his cock when you sob into the sheets cause you can’t take any more but still spread your legs wider for him. he chases it now — slower, deeper, filthier — keeps you pinned beneath him with one hand curled around your hip or splayed low on your belly, fucking you in steady, cruel strokes until your voice starts to crack. he kisses you through it. tells you how good you are for him, how pretty you look when you cry, how proud he is of your body for taking him so well — even as you fall apart beneath him, tears soaking the pillowcase, thighs trembling from how many times he’s made you cum already. and the worst part? he can’t even come anymore unless you cry. he’s tried. but it never hits the same unless you’re sniffling into his chest, whimpering his name like it’s the only word you remember. it’s like your tears validate him now, like he can’t trust he’s fucked you good unless you’re weeping for it — and it fucks with his head, because he loves you. he loves you. but when he sees your bottom lip start to tremble and your voice falter on a broken little “chan, please—” it makes his cock twitch so hard it hurts. he used to fuck you to make you feel good. now he fucks you until you cry, because that’s the only way he knows you need him. because nothing else makes him feel more wanted than the sound of you falling apart for him, again and again, until you don’t even know how to breathe without his cock inside you.

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ride | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

synopsis: you’re ovulating and want to ride chan.

genre: straight smut homie

word count: 3.2k

warnings: [MDNI!] explicit sexual content, softdom!bangchan, pet names (baby, sweet girl, angel), mating press (for like 2 secs, no intercourse), oral (f rec.), piv sex, unprotected sex (don’t try this at home!), allusions to STI testing and birth control, creampie, the slightest amount of breeding kink + overstimulation in the end, chan wants to play, he’s so in love, ugh he’s such a sweetie, a feral sweetie

reader notes: written with afab reader in mind. reader has breasts and a vagina (more like wap). all characters are consenting and over 18 yo.

۶ৎ 𝑙𝑒𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒 ࿐ wrote this bc i’m also ovulating and want to ride chan.

“Already so hot for me, hm?”

Yes. You were. And you were nearly bare beneath Chan’s heavy gaze if not for your cute, little panties, the crotch soaked through, practically translucent, enough to wet the touch of whatever—whoever—dared to feather over the fabric adorning your sacred, seeping hole.

Chan has you spread before him on his sheets at the edge of his bed, one leg stretched out to rest delicately on his naked shoulder, the other pushed to your chest, your foot dangling over his hand pressing into the plush back of your thigh.

You were a dream come to life below him, the wettest dream composed only for the eyes of a man like him, too far past the pathetic cognitive confines of a teenage dirtbag. You were a fallen angel on his sheets, and all Chan could do was relish in how gone you were, how hot and wet and desperate you were, just for him.

He licks his bottom lip and lets his heavy, barely open eyes wash down your body, drinking in the mess he’d made of you—he hadn’t even touched you yet.

You’re basked atop the luscious pool of sheets, eyes dark and chasmic, begging into his dark chocolate orbs for his hands, mouth, and cock to ravish you. Your cheeks are flushed, hot with need, and your lips swell, pink and wet from what felt like centuries of making out before Chan had you in your current state. Your mouth parts to let the string of quick, deep breaths wisp out of your thoracic limits, heightened from the soft arch of your back. Your breasts heave with respiration, nipples pebbled against the comfortable coolness of the room, pleading to be pinched and sucked.

Chan’s eyes wander down to the cloth between your legs, and the sight wreaks him. Your panties are ruined, lucid with slick that seems to gush out of you sans constraint, the never-ending patch diffusing throughout the cotton.

God, Chan loved you like this, loved your desperation and obedience and wetness for him the few days a month you were in heat. It gave him a chance to really provide for you, give you everything and anything you needed to cool you off until you were whining to go again. Every month, he was ready, aching to make his baby feel so, so good.

He feels searing blood pump into his cock, hardening his rod against the already taut fabric of his sweatpants. He slowly peers back into your eyes and catches a familiar glint that tells him you can’t wait any longer. There’s a mellow smirk accompanying his heavy-lidded eyes, a simple mask to help him ignore how all he wants to do is fall to his knees and pout his lips over your clit for the next hour.

“This is okay?” He’d already asked more than once, but it was never enough for Chan.

You writhe beneath him and softly moan. “Yes, Chan.”

The fingers dancing over your ankle leisurely feather down your leg. “What do you need, baby?”

Your hips writhe, and you whine. “Need you inside, Chan, please.”

He hums, the pads of his fingers now running across the back of your thigh, leg still stretched out near his head.

He’ll give it to you, and gosh did he want to do you in good. He wanted you gushing under him, mumbling incoherently from the luxurious pressure of his thrusts, but Chan also wanted to play, just for a little. He wanted to see how far he could string out his sweet girl’s desperation until she was begging for exactly what she needed.

He pushes down on your leg, rendering it a matching pair with its twin, and leans into you. His hands cage you under him near your waist, the heat of your supple skin fogging over his fingers. The back of your legs rest against his hard, broad body, sculpting you into a mating press.

Chan nuzzles his nose against yours. Both your eyes have succumbed to the weight they bear, whispering to a close before your lips mold into the other.

He kisses you softly, granting you just enough pressure to push you into overdrive. Your hands fumble up his shoulders, finding purchase in his hair, gripping tight. You tug him closer, greedier. A groan, low and guttural, vibrates out of him and trembles down to your core.

His hot mouth sucks up your bottom lip, lets it swell in his mouth, coats it with his spit. It rolls back out when he feels your heat squirm against the curve of his cock.

Chan pulls himself from the warmth of your face. He wants to watch your brows scrunch, watch your wet lips pout when he grinds the hard curve of his length into your clothed cunt.

It’s too much and not enough, like the first breath of air when you resurface from underwater. He’s so hard, and his cock rubs just right, deliciously over your clit. You press your head into the mattress, your hands clutch at his hair as you try to meet the agonizing motion of his hips. You pout and mewl up at him.

He smiles, wicked and smug. Then kisses you, slow and sweet.

Chan’s plush lips flutter down your jaw and neck, ghosting over your breast before he sucks your hardened nipple into his blazing mouth. You moan, bucking up against the ghost of his now absent hips.

His tongue flattens over your peak, covering it with a glistening sheen. He sucks and circles and flicks before he sucks hard off of you with a pop, wasting no time fastening his lips back to your skin to kiss down to the only clothed part of your body.

Chan wants to play, wants to take his time pushing you to a release, but he feels a ticking in the pit of his own abdomen, and he knows he won’t last much longer without giving you exactly what you needed, so he slings his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugs.

The lacey band slides past your hips, past the level of your cunt when the crotch latches off with a resisting damp stick. A thin string of your slick stretches out to the wet splotch on your panties, drooping down onto the sheets when the fabric raises too far up your thighs and clears your feet.

Chan’s hand smooths your thigh onto his shoulder, while the other works near the base of the bed to bunch your panties into a ball of fabric that is soon to never return to your underwear drawer.

You're a sight for the books, art fit for museums beyond human capability. Now that you were completely bare beneath his gaze, slick, glistening proof of your arousal drooling onto the plush cotton towel he’d (thankfully) laid out just for you, Chan thinks—no, he knows—he’ll have to ravish you. And he’ll do it by fucking all of the pretty thoughts he has about you straight into your core.

Your seeping pussy coaxes him in, the sight calling his lips to gently kiss over your thigh, each press a brand of affection seared into your flesh. He’s already half-drunk on the scent of you.

And God, the scent. It’s divine. Heady and thick and achingly familiar. It wraps around him, makes his head light, his cock throb against the too taut seam of his pants. His tongue darts out to taste the air, to imagine what you’d feel like on it, and the moment his mouth finally hovers over your heat, he has to exhale a slow, ragged breath through his nose to keep from burying his face in you like a starved man.

“Look at this mess, baby,” he mumbles, heavy eyes flickering up to catch yours through the haze. “Gonna suck it all out of you, yeah?”

And then, he licks.

The flat of his tongue starts from your dripping entrance and slides up to your clit in one long, sinful drag. You jolt with a sharp inhale, thighs twitching on his shoulders as your head falls back with a low moan. He hums against you, savouring every inch of the taste, the warmth, the overwhelming slick. His nose nudges your nub, lips parting to suck your clit into his mouth like it’s the sweetest fruit.

Your hands are threading into his hair, tugging without thought. Chan groans deep into you, the vibration making your spine curve off the bed.

He eats you like it’s the only thing that matters. His tongue flicks and flattens and circles and dips, teasing your entrance just enough to taste the flood of slick before returning to your swollen, needy clit. His soft lips wrap around it, suctioning onto you so hard, pulling cries and whimpers from your throat like he’s conducting you with every movement of his mouth. Your angel voice serenades him with a melodic blend of pleas and his name.

“Mmm, please, Chan—please please please.”

He moans at your voice, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he lets himself sink into the rhythm. Suck, flick, lap. Over and over. Every sound you make is a reward, every roll of your hips a command he obeys. And when your thighs start to clamp around his head, twitching, your hips trying to rock into his face, he succumbs to your needs.

He wants you to ride his mouth. Wants to feel you fall apart against his tongue.

His hands slide under your ass, tilting your hips up, and he dives in deeper. His tongue thrusts into your soaked hole, curling, then returns to your clit. His spit mixes with your slick, a wet, messy potion painted across his chin and lips.

Your sound is broken, wreaked, gasping out his name, your moans pleading for a release. Delinquent hips roll into him, chasing after a high that was just one step out of your reach.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow. Because he knows he has you right where he wants you. So, he just groans low and needy into your cunt and tightens his grip as you finally writhe into bliss.

Your thighs lock around his head, your entire body bowing into the orgasm that crashes through you in high tides. You’re clenching, fluttering wildly as your slick gushes against his tongue, and Chan drinks it down, groaning like he’s in heaven.

He is in heaven.

He holds you there through every aftershock, licking you gently now, soft and slow, kissing your clit with the kind of affection that makes your thighs quiver and your core clench again, helplessly sensitive.

When he finally pulls back, your slick adorns the lower half of his face, glistening in the low light. He kisses your inner thigh one more time, eyes still heavy with his own desperation.

“Did so well, angel, so perfect,” he murmurs, voice thick and ruined.

And you?

You're his masterpiece of a mess, panting like you just surfaced from the deep.

Eyes dark and dazed, Chan hovers above your body. He’s not sure if he should crawl away or curl into you.

But you make the decision for him, because even through the waves of release, the high hadn’t ebbed. Not fully. Not with the excruciating stretch of his sweatpants still tented between your legs. Not with the weight of his adoration still anchoring you both to the bed.

You find the edges of his jaw with your fingertips, still quivering from how he wrecked you, and Chan leans into your touch, a planet to the sun.

“I want to ride you,” you whisper.

It’s not a question. It’s not even a request. It’s a tethered need, soft but unrelenting, looped around both your hearts and tugged tight.

Chan’s breath halts.

He swears something stutters in his chest. His eyes flutter open, and for a second, he’s a man stripped of every coherent thought. Just nerves lit like fire and a heartbeat so loud it rattles in his ears.

“You…” he starts, then trails off, his voice wrecked and low. His throat bobs. “You wanna be on top?”

You nod slowly, brows knit like this is something fragile. Sacred.

It is.

Because it’s not just about wanting control—it’s about trust. And Chan has never felt so honored to give and receive it.

He presses a kiss to your wrist. Then your palm. Then the center of your chest, where your heart still dances from the work of his mouth.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay, baby. Take me.”

He shifts under you, careful, soft, pulls off his sweatpants and boxers in one go, leaving his thick, aching length pulsing and flushed and glistening against the lower valley of his stomach.

You crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, and Chan’s hands instinctively settle on your hips. His head falls back against the pillow, the cords of his neck tight with restraint. He looks at you, his angel made of moonlight and the answer to every unnamed prayer he’s ever breathed through grit teeth in lonely hours.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he swoons, a mellow confession.

Your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the way his abs twitch under your touch. His cock jumps when you slide your slick folds along the base of him, and Chan swears under his breath, knuckles blanching as he grips your hips tighter.

The glide is slow, indulgent. It was your way of savoring him. You rub against him, your clit catching the ridge of his tip each time you rock forward, and Chan’s breath punches out of him in stuttered gasps. His eyes never leave your face—kiss-swollen lips, dreamy dropping eyes—even as his hips buck helplessly under you.

“Fuck,” he groans, eyes fluttering. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

With tests negative and your eggs surrendered to the control of coloured pills, you brace your hands on his chest, and he watches you—every breath, every flicker of pleasure across your face—as if it’s the most exquisite art.

And when you finally sink down, slowly, divinely, the bare heat of you enveloping him inch by tremoring inch, Chan moans so deeply it sounds torn from his soul.

His eyes sew shut. His hands grip your thighs like he’s afraid he’ll float off the earth if he lets go.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just breathes. Shudders.

Then, softly, “Fuck—please.”

You move, slow at first, and Chan meets each motion with a gentle rock of his hips.

It’s consuming, the way your warm, gummy walls slide against his hardened rod, the way he disappears into you with each grind of your hips. The remaining potion of your arousal and his spit gush over his bare tip and dribbles down his length.

And your face—fuck, it was going to ravish him, ruin him far past the limits of your cunt. Pretty pout merged into an oh, eyes barely open before they shut tight. You were godly.

You ride him like you’re claiming him, and Chan surrenders to you.

His hands roam your body, thumb brushing over the curve of your breast, then gripping your waist. His gaze stays locked to your being and nothing but, drinking in the little gasps you spill, the arch of your back when you angle just right, the way your walls flutter around him when he groans your name.

There’s nothing more beautiful than this, than you above him, owning him, loving him, making him unravel piece by piece.

The way you move on him is poetry turned to flesh.

Each roll of your hips is a verse, each sigh a stanza, and Chan is completely spellbound, caught in the cadence of your body, unwinding the syllables of your name under his breath.

He’s close.

Gosh, he’s been close since the second you sank onto him, but now, the pressure wraths tight and hot at the base of his spine, every nerve lit like a fuse, and Chan knows he doesn’t have much longer until he’s helplessly falling apart for you.

So, he brings a thumb to your nub and presses a slow circle into it.

You mewl and clench around him, soft and fluttering, and his hips jerk. His head presses back against the pillow with a low, desperate groan.

“Baby,” he pants, voice rough, thumb still working into you, “I’m not gonna last—”

“I want it,” you whisper, almost boarding on a breathless mewl. “Want you to come inside.”

And it’s over.

Chan’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, his whole body tightening beneath yours. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring himself to the moment, his thumb coaxing you into your second orgasm until you're twitching above him, eyes shut tight, mumbling his name in a high sob.

And then, he’s spilling into you, hot and thick and endless.

His mind whites out. His breath stutters. He feels like he’s burning and being saved all at once.

You don’t stop, not yet.

You keep moving, riding him through every wave of it, milking him with slow, deep grinds that draw out his pleasure until it teeters on overwhelming.

“Fuck,” he chokes out, his voice wreaked, “just like that—oh god, angel, I’m yours—”

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest as you finally still. He’s still twitching inside you, still pulsing weakly, his cum leaking out in slow, sticky drips that smear where your bodies press together.

It’s messy. Intimate. Utterly undone.

And Chan has never loved anything more.

His lips find your shoulder, your neck, your temple. Kisses soft as the air after a storm, trying to say everything his tongue is too ruined to form.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, dizzy with adoration.

You hum, cheek nuzzled into his hair, and Chan closes his eyes, his whole body still twiching, but grounded now by the feel of your heartbeat against his.

“I mean it,” he whispers, thumbing lazy circles into your spine. “You’re everything.”

When you finally shift off him, Chan’s hands follow you instinctively, always touching, always holding. He props himself up on his elbows, watching with simmering greed as his cum slowly drips from between your thighs, glossy and slow.

He almost can’t stop himself when two of his fingers scrape his hot seed back up, pressing the coated pads against the opening of your hole. You squirm with a soft mewl.

“It’s spilling out of you,” he breathes, his voice is threaded with awe. “Wanna stuff it back in you, baby. Can I?”

You nod, eyes hooded, pout parted with wisping breaths.

“Words, angel.” His own are broken, eyes so soft, so full of all the love and admiration known to humankind.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And that’s all Chan needed to hear before he’s gently laying your precious body against the sheets and leisurely replacing his fingers with himself, pushing into you softly, grazing your walls slowly, fucking his cum back to your core with love for your surging through his vessels and bones and nerves.

Both your bodies twitch, overstimulated, your eyes glassed over with threatening tears pooling at each of your squinting corners.

Yet, Chan wouldn't have wanted it any other way, simply because it was with you.

৬ৎ 𝑙𝑒𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝘰𝑠𝘵𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒 ࿐ whoever you are reading this, you are beautiful.

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mayumirawr · 3 months ago

Text

͏ ͏ . ˙˖ ͏ ͏᱖ ͏ ͏ WHEN YOU DON'T KISS THEM ꒰´ ꒳ ` ꒱♡

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 gn!reader, cw: kissing, fluffy fluff, they’re hella dramatic, pet names, not proofread :P

CHAN

Confused puppy mode activated. He blinks at you like you’ve just told him you hate puppies and sunshine. “Wait… you don’t wanna kiss me? Like. Right now?” He immediately checks his breath. Sniffs his shirt. *“Did I do something?” When you teasingly shake your head and walk away, he dramatically collapses onto the couch like he’s in a K-drama. “So this is what heartbreak feels like…” Literally pouts for the next ten minutes. Will not stop staring at your lips. Once it goes on for that long he Starts offering kisses to inanimate objects. “Okay fine, I’ll kiss this pillow instead. It never betrays me.” Bonus: the second you kiss him later, he perks up like nothing ever happened. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” Smug and clingy for the next hour. You’ve created a monster.

MINHO

Immediately squints at you like you just challenged his entire existence. “...You must be joking.” Proceeds to act like you just committed a crime against the state of Minho. Fake gasp. “After everything I’ve done for you? Dramatically flops onto the bed, face down. Mumbles something about betrayal and ungrateful partners. Ten seconds later, peeks up: “Was it my eyeliner? Be honest.” Lowkey offended, highkey teasing. Will start threatening your plushies. “If you don’t kiss me in five seconds, Mr. Bunbun gets it.” Refuses to let you live in peace until you give in. Starts hovering near you with his cheek out like: “You could fix this right now. Just saying.” If you still don’t kiss him, he pouts and goes quiet for a whole… five minutes. Then casually brushes his fingers against yours and mutters, “...You’re lucky I like you.”

CHANGBIN

Visibly malfunctions. Stares at you like his world just crumbled. “Huh?? You’re joking. That was a joke, right?” Looks around like he’s on a hidden camera show. “Did I not flex enough today? Is that why?” Pulls out his phone, turns the front camera on. Stares at himself. “No way someone this cute is getting rejected right now.” Dramatic™ but clingy: follows you around the room, hands behind his back like a lost duckling. “I’m not saying I’m upset. But my heart? Yeah, it’s broken.” Tries puppy eyes. Then arms-crossed-pouting. Then both. If you keep refusing just to tease him, he gasps and goes: “Wow. Betrayal. This is worse than when Felix ate my last dumpling.” Eventually sulks in a corner… until you sneak a kiss on his cheek. Perks up immediately: “You still love me. I knew it.”

HYUNJIN

Gasp. Actual gasp. Like hand-to-chest, Shakespeare-level shock. “You’re refusing me? Me?? The most kissable man alive?” Stares at you in disbelief like you just said you don’t like art or dogs. Immediately gets extra dramatic. leans against a wall like he’s in a tragic romance movie. “So this is what unrequited love feels like…” Paces around the room dramatically whispering, “Why? Why me?” May or may not fake faint into your arms. “I’m going to write poetry about this betrayal.” Pulls out his sketchbook and scribbles something that looks suspiciously like a broken heart with your name in it. BUT the moment you offer a kiss later, he puts the drama on hold so fast. “Oh? You’ve come to your senses? I forgive you.” (Still makes you kiss him three times to make up for the heartbreak.)

HAN

Instantly gasps like he’s been shot. “WHAT DID I DO?! Tell me right now. I can change.” Drops to his knees in the middle of the room. “Is it because I ate your last snack? I’ll buy you ten more. Just please kiss me.” Dramatic? Yes. Clingy? Also yes. Starts listing reasons why he deserves a kiss. “I’m cute. I’m loyal. I only cried twice this week.” 100% will try to trick you into kissing him. “Hey, what’s that on your cheek?” When you turn to face him he puckers his lips. When you still refuse, he fake-wipes a tear. “This is worse than that time my mom forgot to pack my juice box.” Crawls under a blanket burrito-style and mutters, “I’m going to disappear from society.” …until you give him a kiss and he immediately pops up like, “Okay I’m healed. You’re forgiven. Let’s make out.”

FELIX

At first, he thinks you didn’t hear him. “Wait, love… did you… did you miss the part where I asked for a kiss?” You say no. He gasps. Visibly stunned. Looks personally victimized. Places a hand on his chest like, “my freckles are crying right now.” Looks up at you with the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “But I baked you cookies last week…” Might dramatically flop onto the floor with zero warning. “This is the end. This is how I go. KISSLESS.” Starts muttering in his deep voice: “No more sunlight. No more hope. Just vibes and heartbreak.” Will start offering you bribes: “One kiss = one Aussie accent moment.” If you give in, he lights up like the sun. “YAY! I mean… ahem thank you, my love.” If you don’t, he pouts and writes “RIP me” in your notes app.

SEUNGMIN

You say no and he just blinks at you. “Okay.” Totally calm. Deadpan. Turns back to his phone. You think he doesn’t care. He’s so chill it’s suspicious. But five minutes later, you realize… He’s suddenly so petty. “No, I’m not sharing my fries. People who withhold kisses don’t get fries.” Starts fake-laughing at memes on his phone louder than usual. “Wow. This meme gave me more affection than SOME people. Keeps glancing at you, unimpressed. “You had one job.” If you try to kiss him later to make up for it, he leans back with raised brows. “Ohhh, so now you want to kiss me?” Acts like he’s in negotiations. “I’ll consider it… for a price.” But one kiss and he melts instantly. “Okay fine. I guess I am cute enough to forgive.”

JEONGIN

Freezes. Just freezes. “Wait. Are you serious?” Squints at you like you just said you don’t like baby bread. “Do you know what you’re missing out on?” gestures to his own face “Premium. Kissable. Visuals.” At first, he acts like he’s too cool to care. “Tch. Whatever. I didn’t want one anyway.” Five minutes later: “I could’ve been kissed… but nooo… someone had to be heartless.” Starts sending you dramatic selfies captioned: “Unkissed. Unloved. Unbothered.” Tries to guilt trip you with his pouty face. “Even Seungmin would kiss me right now.” Eventually starts following you around whispering “kiss me kiss me kiss me” like a cursed ringtone. When you finally kiss him? “Took you long enough.” But his smile is so big he gives himself away in two seconds.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @queenofdumbfuckery

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