#shoutout to skz code for the inspo

[whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan]

🎱 I wish I could’ve been sweet, but you made me do this… 🎱

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smut

✎ Summary: A game of pool quickly became something else, and now you have to deal with the consequences.

✎ CW: Bondage/restraint, biting, blood, a little touch of consensual non-consent, another touch of predator/prey, fingering, unprotected sex, (rough) nipple play

✎ Word count: 2,126

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“I told you…” he begins.

The room is silent again, except for soft thumps of dress shoes on hardwood, plastic ceiling fan blades slicing air, and deep, unsteady exhales.

“I told you what would happen if you talked back to me, didn’t I?” Chan asks.

His big hands are tucked away in his pockets as he circles the pool table. He walks slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes on the floor. He hasn’t looked at you in minutes.

“But you… and that mouth,” he says, stopping at the end of the table to roughly plant his hands on the wood. “That fucking mouth of yours…”

Murky eyes stare directly into yours now. But they’re not his usual syrupy brown, no, they’re almost completely black. And the way his upper lip twitches is different, too. He’s angry, and he’s hungry for something dark.

He places a knee on the table and hoists his body up, moving his hands forward onto the felt. Then he’s on all fours, slowly crawling toward you, bound and gagged at the center of it all.

Pool balls surround you, and he’s careful not to let them get in his way. When he finally reaches you, he leans in close, letting his hot breath coat your cheek.

“The rules were very simple,” he hisses. “Be good, and you’d get rewarded.”

He lowers his big, pink lips to your neck and kisses gently.

“But, be a bad girl…” he hums into your skin. “And you’d be punished. Isn’t that right?”

Your “yes” is muffled by the ball gag, but it’s clear enough.

“So… what punishment do you deserve for talking back to me? For not showing me one of your pretty tits when I asked you to… when I told you to?”

His big fingers lightly wrap around your neck before traveling down, down to your chest, where he fiddles with the cup of your bra.

“Well, I think I definitely get to see them now. Maybe even pinch, maybe even bite a little… don’t you think?”

The moan that travels up your throat is born from a mix of excitement and fear.

He reaches behind you to undo the clasp, then uses the available slack to lift the bra up and over your head so the cups rest on your back. Your arms are tied from the elbow down, so there’s no hope to remove the garment completely.

“Ahhhh,” he breathes, marveling at the newly exposed flesh in front of him before gripping one nipple between finger and thumb. “So perky, so hard…”

He twists the raised nub with the pads of his fingers slowly, keeping his lips on your neck and sucking gently at first. But then they pull back and teeth pinch the thin skin, drawing a soft grunt from behind your lips.

“What was that, princess?” he asks. “Want me to bite you more?”

Your tiny yelp could signal yes or no, but you aren’t entirely sure which. And he doesn’t seem to care one way or the other.

“Bite your tits? Oh, I can definitely do that.”

And before you can even make a sound, his teeth close on the skin above your nipple, biting hard enough to leave a mark. Then he shifts to the left and does it again, but even harder this time.

He pinches and pulls at the nipple still between his fingers as his mouth finds the other, first circling it with his tongue before baring his teeth once more and biting down roughly.

Another groan is stifled by the gag, and you can do nothing to help or hurt the situation except pull at the shirt wrapped around your arms.

“Mmmm,” he moans around your breast. “You taste so good. Let’s see if I can make you bleed.”

He bites again, then again, then again, before you hear a tiny crunch and feel a sharp sting.

“There we go…”

Just a few drops of blood seem to satiate him because he sits back and releases his hold on you completely.

“Oh, my love,” he says and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before rubbing his thumb back and forth on your cheek. “I wish I could’ve been sweet. But you made me do this…”

He rotates you so he can untie your arms, but you’re not completely free from your restraints just yet.

“Arms up.”

You lift your arms over your head, and he wraps the shirt around your forearms once again. There’s barely time to take another breath before his hand drops to grip your neck tightly, and he forces you onto your back. Billiard balls don’t allow you to lie flat, but that doesn’t stop him from pressing you into the table.

“Comfortable?” he sneers, but he knows you’re not. He knows your face, and the lowered brows, wrinkled nose, and tightly closed eyes are more than enough for him to interpret.

“Here… let me help.”

He reaches beneath your back and grabs a ball, the black 8, and holds it above your face.

“Hmmm, but what do we do with this now?” he asks himself. “We have to put it down somewhere, don’t we?”

The cold ball touches your chest right as his voice cuts off. Guided by his firm hand, it rolls over your ribs and up the mounds and back down again, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

He hums and sighs as he directs that ball around and down, past your stomach and your hips to your thighs, before coming back up again and following the same path down. Like a pendulum swinging back and forth but shortening its distance on each trip. Just biding time until it finally settles at its equilibrium.

“I wonder if I could fit this inside you,” he wonders aloud, his eyes filled with curiosity and mischief staring at your bare skin.

Chan places the ball safely on your stomach before spreading your legs and inserting a finger, then two, then three.

“Hmmm, already so wet, so ready. If only I could bury my cock in you instead…”

He adds a fourth finger and spreads them, seeing just how far you’ll stretch for him. The wicked grin that spreads across his lips just then must mean something good.

“Oh, we could definitely get this in you,” he muses. “Tuck this right up inside your tight pussy. Would you like that?”

You only stare blankly in response, unsure if you would or not. Probably… but…

“But that wouldn’t be much fun once it’s in,” he decides. “We need something to…”

He roughly pumps all four fingers in and out in time with his words.

“Make. You. Whine.”

Just then, something behind you seems to catch his attention, and his eyes start to glow in the light. He hops off the table and quickly returns to your side, pool stick in hand.

Your eyes widen once you realize what it’s for, and every single muscle tenses in fear. You mumble incoherently, forgetting the safe word in the heat of the moment. But it’s enough, because Chan’s excited expression immediately turns to pure panic.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, holding your cheek in one hand and undoing the gag with the other. “I would never hurt you, you know that, right?”

The gag falls to the table and is quickly replaced by his mouth. He wets your chapped lips with his tongue and kisses gently before pulling back.

“I love you. We don’t have to do that, okay?” he whispers. “Do you still want to…?”

You nod slightly, and he smiles and kisses your nose. Chan drops the cue stick on the ground and sweetly kisses your hair before unbuttoning his slacks and dropping them and his boxers to the floor.

He climbs back onto the table and settles on his knees. His hands work at untying the knot around your arms, then he places his hands on either side of your head.

“Maybe you’ve endured enough, yeah?” he says, stroking your hair. “Maybe it’s time for me to just… adore you.”

He lifts your back and scatters the balls so you can rest comfortably. Then his fingers gently run along your side — soft enough to tease, but hard enough to avoid making you ticklish.

It’s been so long since you felt his loving touch, and you can’t help but moan softly. He takes those sighs as cues for where to apply more pressure as he goes, though he knows exactly where to head.

Two fingers enter you gently, and he exhales between lips spread into a pleased grin.

“Oh, my girl…” he whispers. “I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

His crooked fingers leave as fast as they came and grip your ass instead, lifting your hips off the table. The balls of your feet instinctually find the felt and prop up your lower body while he positions himself between your thighs.

“Ready?” he asks, his leaking cock less than an inch away from where you need it the most.

You nod and look down to watch as he slides in. His eyes squeeze shut as more and more of him disappears inside you.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Oh, oh my…”

His grip on your hips tightens as his pace increases, faster and faster, until he’s pounding in and out of you so quickly you can barely catch your breath between strokes.

He angles your hips up just a little more to hit that perfect spot with every thrust, and you can’t help it. Your thighs start to quiver, making your whole body unsteady. Chan may be strong, but even he’s struggling to maintain a decent pace and keep you still.

“I’m… gonna… flip you… ok?” he exhales between strokes.

And then he does — with unexpected ease. He rotates your hips and holds you upright until you can support yourself on your hands and knees, then he sinks into you again.

The sound of skin slapping against skin is even louder from this angle, loud enough to drown out both of your moans. And though you can’t hear him, you know he is.

You can feel his groans and sighs as they vibrate from his throat, through his chest, down his arms. Like the energy transfers from his fingertips to your hips, igniting fire in your veins.

“Chan… nie…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Gonna…”

“You close?” he breathes, barely getting the words out. “Hold on.”

He pulls out and flips you onto your back again.

“I wanna… see you,” he explains between shaky inhales. “You’re so… beautiful.”

You feel his fingertips on your glistening cheek, and his honey eyes hold your gaze as he fills you up again.

Chan presses his pillowy lips into yours and moans into your mouth. And, god, his sounds are so delicious.

He plants his elbows on the table on either side of your head and laces his fingers together above you. He’s not tossing you around anymore. And he couldn’t move even if he wanted to, not with your arms encircling his neck and your legs tightly wrapped around his hips. This is it.

A few thrusts later, you’re there. And he’s close. He can feel you clench around him, and that tightness, that pressure. A few more pumps into that wet heat has him unraveling, too, and he breaks the kiss to try to form a cohesive thought.

“Fuck. You’re, you’re. F-fuck. You’re so… perfect.”

He empties himself deep inside you as he speaks, but it’s not enough. You need his lips, his mouth, to possess him completely.

You raise your neck to connect lips once again, and he returns the favor with passion. His kiss is so intense, so deep, like he’s trying to claim you and keep you right back.

“I’m yours,” you pant into his lips.

“I know,” he exhales, returning the air to your lungs. “And I’m yours.”

Mouths reattach as you ride out your highs, and the give and take continues well past the aftershocks. You just can’t get enough of his mouth; you could do this forever.

Minutes pass, and you can feel him shrink between your legs. Of course, neither of you could give a fuck. Wrapped in each other’s limbs like this is everything — absolutely everything.

Chan finally pulls back to breathe after who knows how long, and his swollen lips immediately pull into a warm smile.

“I love you,” he whispers once, then again. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His smile, his love is so infectious, you’d return it even if you weren’t already drowning in raw affection for him.

“I love you,” you whisper back. “Thank you.”

Somehow, his smile widens even more, and you swear you see a thousand sunrises, a million stars, a billion fireworks exploding in his eyes all at once.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he lightly strokes your cheek. “Everything for you.”