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chanshoesunite · 2 years

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Chan wants to record your moans for a song

GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 2.6k Author’s Note (Author Hare): This is my 500 follower hug for y’all inspired by two prompts given to me by my favourite reader of all times, Author Tortoise. Maybe you can guess what they are! WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), unsafe sex (wrap it up, kids), slight dirty talk, Chan calls reader a slut (but in a very loving way)

You unlock the door, enter the flat and kick off your heeled ankle boots, balancing two bags of takeout as you do. Having successfully completed that task, you dump them on the floor and shrug out of your coat as your obligatory “honey, I’m home” call stays unanswered. You smile to yourself – you’d expected that; it means that your boyfriend is still so focused on creating music, he forgets the world around him. That is also the main reason why he got you a key to his flat – more than once had you been standing in front of the door, waiting for him to open it for you, and he simply hadn’t heard the doorbell, lost as he was in his creative process.

You’re still in your work clothes – a black dress (that might have screamed “overdressed!” to some people, but you are aware that being overdressed is a concept created by people who don’t want women to feel beautiful every day), stockings and bright red lipstick – as you make your way through the hallway with the sashimi you’ve picked up at Chan’s favourite place to treat him for dinner.

You knock on his studio door, but the gesture is again futile – through the glass door, you can see that he’s wearing massive headphones and can’t hear anything that’s not blasted through those. You take a moment to watch him – he is clad simply in a black oversized shirt, his hair a dark mess as if he’d dragged his hands through it a hundred times today while looking for words and melodies to match in ways that you find to be positively magical. Elbows on his desk, his gaze is turned towards the ceiling as he vibes with the music, nodding to the beat, critically analysing something he has created. It’s so incredibly attractive, the way he is so focused on and passionate about his work, your heart is full just looking at him.

The song seems to end because Chan looks down and catches your eye. He gives a little start – after all, he thought he was alone in his flat until a few seconds ago – and then a glowing smile takes over his face. He waves to you in an almost childlike gesture, and you mirror his smile as you enter the studio. Chan pulls the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck before putting them on the desk. “Hey, baby girl,” he greets you happily, rolling back in his swivel chair and patting his thighs. “Come here!”

You oblige, sitting in his lap, your legs dangling over one of the armrests as your arms come to rest on his broad shoulders. You lean in to kiss him, and though you mean it only to be a peck, your kiss lasts a little longer and feels a little more heated than your average welcome back kiss. “Hi,” you whisper, smiling, as you pull back eventually.

Chan’s eyes are fixed on your red lips, but eventually stray as they take in your dress. “You look beautiful,” he pronounces, his hand sliding down the skirt of your dress and coming to rest on your knee. “Did you have a good day?”

You nod emphatically, your curls bouncing as if supporting your claim as you recount your successful day at the publishing company where you work. “The presentation went very well. The boss was ecstatic and said I’ll get to manage more of the marketing campaigns since I’m doing such a good job.” You nod to the takeout bags. “I got us some sashimi to celebrate.”

Chan’s face, which had lit up at the news, now takes on an even more enthusiastic expression. “I’m so proud of you, baby, those are wonderful news! I’m so glad your boss can see how dedicated, hardworking, and talented you are! And I’m happy I get to celebrate with you. Thanks for bringing dinner.” He nuzzles into your neck, and you giggle, feeling giddy at his euphoria.

“Thanks for being such a hype boy, babe. And how was your day? How is the new album coming along?” You glance at the computer, where Chan has obviously been busy mixing a sound file. Chan shrugs. “Ah, you knaur.” He’s trying to sound non-committal, but you know that he cares deeply. “I’m trying to write a new unit song. Hyunjin is in it, so it needs to be racy.” He winks at you. “Another hoe anthem, you mean?” Your boyfriend bursts out laughing. “Something like that. Do you want to hear it?” “Sure!” You always love listening to early versions of songs – it is intriguing to watch Chan decide what to keep and what to cut, what to put on demos – and then listen to the final product as it is released. The process is fascinating, and you love being a part of it, even if you’re only a spectator.

Chan reaches around you, and you turn to face the computer, leaning back against his broad chest. His left hand slips around your waist, securing him against you as he starts the song. Immediately you know why this song is meant for Hyunjin; it is a dark-sounding RnB track that seems to continue the tradition laid down in “Red Lights” and “Taste”. There is an almost hypnotic organ melody that reminds you of church, but in a distinctly unholy way as it is paired with lyrics such as “I know that we shouldn’t, but I want to”. Chan’s voice on the demo carries the song without difficulties, and it’s positively captivating; breathy whispers and slight vocal fries add to the sexy tone of the song.

You feel the mood in the room shift, anticipation making room for arousal. You shiver in Chan’s arms listening to it, and you feel your boyfriend shift beneath you before he presses a kiss to your neck. “Do you like it?” he breathes into your ear, and the air against your neck tickles you in a decidedly not innocent way.

You nod, releasing a breath you don’t know you’ve been holding. “It’s definitely racy,” you agree, your breath hitching as Chan continues to kiss your neck while the song moves into the second verse. You can feel him smile against your skin.

“It’s almost as if hearing my voice singing it is doing something to you, baby girl. It must be like me getting dirty thoughts when you wear lipstick like that,” he almost purrs, gently biting your earlobe as his right hand finds your breast, teasing it through the cloth. A tiny gasp escapes you, and even though the music is still playing, it doesn’t slip Chan’s attention. “God,” he almost growls. “Your moans would sound so good on this track.”

That one sentence causes you to groan again, and Chan’s hand slips from your waist downwards, under your dress and directly into your panties. He gasps at the wetness he finds there and starts stroking you softly, maddeningly, but not in any way that could actually do something for you except tease you further. “Does it turn you on that much, baby girl? Hearing me sing a naughty song, knowing I wrote it thinking about your body? Do you like the idea of me recording your moans, putting them on the track, having the fans wonder who got so horny just listening to the demo version? You’re such a little slut, baby.”

At the word slut, he pushes a finger into your pussy, and this time, your moan is anything but quiet as you throw your head back. The song comes to a close, ending, just as it started, with the organ melody, and the only thing you can hear is Chan’s finger sliding into you and the two of you breathing heavily.

“So,” he drawls, almost sounding bored but of course he’s anything but as his thumb comes to circle your clit. “What do you say?” You meet his eyes as he glances down on your face, still hypnotized by your lipstick. “You know,” you rasp. “Your song is so hot I wish I could fuck it, but I can’t. So I will fuck you instead.” You watch as Chan’s pupils dilate, and the growl that escapes his throat as he claims your lips is almost feral. Well, you know what you do to him, and you have him exactly where you want him.

“Turn on the mic,” you breathe as you pull his hands off you. In a quick gesture, you grab the hem of your dress and discard it onto the floor, standing in front of him in just your stockings and black underwear, lasciviously leaning against the desk. “Let’s see how good these moans sound.”

He seems to contemplate your words for a few seconds before he takes a step closer and, his eyes never leaving yours, leans forward to push a few keys on his keyboard. This right there, this silence before the storm, this uninterrupted eye contact, might be one of the hottest moments you’ve experienced in a long time.

Chan is on you in a second, hoisting you up onto the desk as he kisses you deeply. Your hands grab for the hem of his t-shirt, greedily pulling it off to feel more of his skin. Chan’s meanwhile busy opening your bra, and in his impatience, he has to fumble for a bit to get it off you.

“Eager?” you tease against his lips before biting down, eliciting a groan from him. “You have no idea, baby girl,” he admits as he finally gets the offending garment off. He lets it carelessly fall to the floor, already focused on nothing else but your naked breasts resting against the palms of his hands. He kisses you deeply as he strokes your stiff nipples, his erection pushing against your scantily clothed pussy as he stands between your spread legs, trying to still be closer to you than he already is.

You cross your ankles behind him, helping him in his endeavour, and you both gasp as he grinds against you. “Off, off, off,” you breathe, gesturing to both his sweatpants and your underwear. Chan smirks. “Who’s eager now?” he asks, nipping at your collarbone. You roll your eyes playfully. “Who has written a song about fucking me?” He seems to consider that for a second. “Fair point. Move your hips for me, will you, baby girl?”

You help him pull your panties off and take the liberty of pulling down his sweatpants and underwear in one go, letting his girthy cock spring free. Chan appreciates the view for a second, seeing as you’re only wearing stockings now. “You’re the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen,” he declares in a raspy voice, and it only adds to your need. You make to touch him, but Chan easily catches your wrist and pins it to the desk with his hand. You actually whine at that. “Please, don’t tease me,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his length stretching you out deliciously.

Chan’s smile is wolfish. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you want.” And before you can protest any more, he lets go of your hand, pulls you to the edge of the desk and guides his cock into your pussy. Your gasps mix with his broken moans as he slowly pushes in. Chan pauses, but only for a moment – both of you are far too turned on to take this slow, and even though the height of the desk isn’t perfect, the newness of the location adds a level of spice to the encounter.

He starts thrusting into you, fast, hard, causing the desk to shake beneath you. You scramble to push the keyboard to the side, falling back onto your elbows as Chan’s punishing pace throws you off balance. You stare up at him: his hair sticking to his forehead, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his neck, the muscles in his arms playing as he holds onto your hips with a ferocity that might result in bruises. You give yourself over to your sensations: the cold desk below you, the sound of skin slapping against skin, Chan’s steady groans at the pleasure you give him, his big cock positively railing your wet cunt.

You grab onto him, pulling yourself back up and clinging to his broad shoulders, wanting to be even closer to him, feel his breath on your skin. “You feel so good,” you moan into his neck, biting his shoulder lightly. His retaliation comes in form of a thrust so powerful that it punches a loud groan out of you.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot, making me take you in my studio,” he gasps as he pushes into you again and again, relentlessly. “You’ll sound so good on this song, and it’ll be our little secret, but at the same time everyone will know. Everyone will know that only I can fuck you so well, make you make the hottest little noises, make you fall apart on my cock.” He slips a hand between you and starts stroking you to make sure the falling apart can actually happen, but he knows your body well enough to have you panting and at the edge of your orgasm within minutes.

“You’re such a good girl, making the most beautiful noises. Tell me, baby, who’s making you feel good? Say it. I want to hear it.” Pushing against him, trying to get closer to the delicious friction, you gasp, “You, Chan, only you can make me feel like this!”

You can feel Chan’s concentration slipping, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he seems determined to make you come first, so he redoubles his efforts stroking you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, how you’re a good little slut for him, taking him so well, how you’re made for this, made for him, how no other pussy could ever feel this good.

“Come on, baby girl, be good and moan for me and Hyunjin.” For some reason, that and a well-timed thrust does it, and you come on Chan’s cock with a loud, drawn-out groan, your pussy spasming wildly around him so he follows you over the edge mere seconds later. He crushes his lips to yours once more, and you make out as he spills into you, and continue to do so as you both slowly come off your highs.

A few moments later, you break the kiss to lean against his shoulder, still enclosed in his embrace. “That was a really nice entrée,” you declare, and Chan chuckles. He is quiet for a few seconds. “Are we gonna pretend you didn’t come the second I mentioned Hyunjin’s name?” You know he is teasing you, so you decide to go along. “Well, maybe you should invite him over some time?” Slowly, gently, you push against him so can slide out of you. You can feel a dribble of come making its way out of you and onto Chan’s desk, but that looks like a him-problem.

Chan clutches his chest in mock-terror. “Am I not enough for you?” You shake your head. “Oh baby, you’re sometimes more than I can cope with,” you say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you grab your underwear. “But in a good way. The best, really.” Chan slides an arm around you, stabilising you as you slip on your panties. “I’ll take it as a compliment, then.” He glances at the takeout bags. “Dinner?”

You nod. “Have you turned off the mic?” Your boyfriend turns around to check the equipment. He curses. “Oh naur, it seems like it was off the whole time!” He catches your eye as you slip on his t-shirt, and there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess we’ll have to do this again soon…”

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