#entangled | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mybiasisexo · 10 months

Text

Entangled - Part 7

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader

Chapter Warnings: Language | Smut

Word Count: 8.2k

Author Notes: 🤠. now I know y'all see the warning lmfao yes we are here 🤷🏾‍♀️. This is the longest chapter so far, which I think is deserved since it took me fifty'leven years to write 😭. This chapter was a bitch, and I am SO GLAD its over!!!

In the time I spent loligagging, I made a series playlist!!!! EXO's Let Me In is like the perfect theme song for both this chapter and the series in general I think. Its what inspired me to finish the chapter. Can't believe we're getting new exo in 2 weeks ❤️!!! They bout to do it again!!!

Also, question, has anyone noticed that Chanyeol has never said Yerim's name? No one has pointed it out and so this is me doing so 😂

This is my first time ever writing smut so I hope it's good. Our couple is still a mess lmfao but I'm still rooting for them and I hope you are too. ENJOYYYYY~ 😉 And I hope I never take this long to update again 😭

(And as always, if youd like to be tagged lmk!)

Chanyeol’s head snaps up in shock. “You just said yes, right?”

You nod reassuringly, fighting an amused smile. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

He studies your face for a moment, probably searching for any reluctance or doubt. You know there’s nothing of that to find, but you patiently stand there and let him figure it out on his own.

You know when he believes you, because a rather pleased grin lifts a corner of his mouth, revealing the cute dimple in his cheek. In the past, you’d poke it whenever it was in poking range. He’d always make a dramatic show of complaining everytime you did, but you knew he secretly loved it, the overgrown baby.

He draws you back to the present by turning around and leading you to his room, bouncing with each step. You follow tentatively behind, wondering what you just got yourself into.

Your heart races as he scans the key. The little click from the door unlocking sets off your nerves. He opens the door and motions you to enter first. You take a centering breath before crossing the threshold, but your shoulder ends up brushing against Chanyeol’s torso, and the contact ignites sparks of electricity to shoot throughout your body. Chanyeol shivers, as if he feels it too.

Once inside, you don’t really know what to do, so you just stand there. Chanyeol enters after you, walking past your frozen frame, making sure to avoid touching you again. The door closing behind you completely traps you inside, and the room quickly fills with a tension so thick you feel it weigh down your shoulders and lungs like humidity. Breathing becomes a struggle, only made more difficult as Chanyeol decides to pull off his jacket, tossing it over a chair. He starts rolling up the sleeves to his elbow and all you can do is watch, transfixed. Your mouth floods with saliva you can’t swallow back down quick enough, and you’re sure you’re going to start drooling from the show he’s putting on.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He asks. It snaps you out of your hyper focused stare. You refocus, blinking up at him as if coming out of a daze. He gives you that same dimpled grin from earlier, and it’s enough to knock some sense back into you. He definitely knows what he’s doing.

You purse your lips, but finally bend down to take off your shoes, and lean against the wall by the door, trying to keep as much distance from Chanyeol as the small room allows. You put your hands behind your back, trapping them against the wall with the weight of your body in an attempt to keep them restrained to fight the urge to do something foolish–like reaching out to give into the long overdue temptation of tracing the veins bulging out his exposed arms. In your current situation–stuck in a hotel room with your ex fiance you’re not completely over–you can admit that you miss him. Dear God, you miss him so fucking much. If there is anything this wedding has shown you, anything the past couple days have proven, it’s that you can’t be left alone with him. You can’t escape your past.

In need of a distraction, you take in Chanyeol’s suite as you slip out of your heels. Unlike Sehun’s and your rooms, Chanyeol’s is small. A standard kitchenette spreads across the right wall, with a dresser beside it, a flatscreen television hovering above it. The left wall has one door that you assume leads to the bathroom, a full length mirror beside it. The back wall, just like the rest of the suites, is made up of windows. A massive king sized bed takes up most of the room in the middle, the headrest leaning against the windows. His room is pretty much your sleeping quarters with a kitchenette in it.

A silence fills the room as you take it in, still heavy, but not awkward. The tension building between you both has many layers. There’s the tension of years of separation. You’ve missed so much of each other’s lives, so many milestones and stories you have to share and catch up on. But, that can’t be done until you address another source of tension–the hurt. You’ve both been hurt by the other, and there is nothing–not even friendship–until you unpack that pain. Unfortunately, the last layer of tension is the one you’re finding the most difficult to ignore, and that’s the attraction. Obviously, you still want the man before you. This weekend has tested you, and you failed–numerous times. And now that you are truly alone with him, you know it’s only a matter of time before you completely lose yourself in all the old feelings being near him brings.

You’re still trying to avoid the man before you, finding his presence extremely overwhelming, but he makes it hard with the heat of his attention warming your cheeks.

Exasperated, you say, “can you stop that?”

“Stop what?” He asks in confusion, voice deeper than his usual bass–a clue to his inner thoughts.

“Staring,” you clarify, finally gaining enough courage to meet his gaze. He holds it, expression intense, reflecting the longing rolling off you in waves.

“I can’t help it,” he reveals. His voice is quiet, but strained, holding back what little control he has left. “I just… can’t believe you’re really here. That….” Now, he grows shy. He ends your staring contest, opting for the lush carpet instead as he tugs on his earlobe, face turning pink. “That you’re in my hotel room. I feel like I’ll blink and you’ll be gone.”

A gentle gasp leaves you, and you have to push harder against the wall in hopes the physical pain will give you some semblance of control, because his words have your resolve crumbling. He notices your stiff form and narrows his eyes. He misinterprets your guard, not realizing that it’s for his sake more than your own. Hurt colors his expression, assuming you want the distance between you both.

“I won’t keep you for long,” he says, voice dejected. “I just….”

“Just what?” You ask.

“Wanted to apologize. For last night.”

“You remember?” You ask skeptically. He was really drunk and, well, a lot happened in a short amount of time. A lot that definitely needed to be unpacked if you wanted to move on… or forward, or whatever it was you wanted out of this interaction. As of this moment, you aren’t sure. Closure, you suppose. Yeah, being able to say everything on your chest, and being able to understand the choices Chanyeol has made since the break up.

“Trust me, the boys refused to let me forget.” he grumbles. That brings out a rare chuckle from you. They really are Team You, and are incredibly insufferable about it. You can only imagine the things Sehun said to him. You should probably add that to your list of things to apologize for.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says. “But they let me know I made a complete fool of myself. and that I…. That I kissed you?”

The tips of his yoda ears turn an endearing shade of red, letting you know that he’s embarrassed of his actions from the night before. You can’t help but wonder if he knows what he said to you. If he can recall begging you to take him back.

You nod in confirmation and he winces. The red in his ears drag down to his neck.

“I crossed a line. You’ve been very clear on where you stand when it comes to us and I ignored that. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Very clear, huh? You aren’t sure yourself where you stand, but it’s obvious Chanyeol has misread a few things if he thinks he knows how you feel about him. Cause right now? Right now, disappointment floods you at the thought of him redrawing that damn line in the sand. Especially since he thinks he’s doing it on your behalf.

It’s a way out, a way to keep things at the distance you’re at now, but you have to be honest–to the both of you.

“Yesterday,” you start. “You told me you were using Yerim as a way to stay away from me.”

He turns away in shame.

“The truth is, so was I.”

He turns back to you in shock, and his whole body visibly zeros in on you with laser focus, not wanting to miss anything that leaves your mouth.

It has your skin prickling, but it’s not unwelcoming.

“Because the moment you were back in my life it was like you never left, and that terrified me. It still does. It feels wrong.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just takes you in, digesting your words, comparing them to the facts he has deduced for himself.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, which all seem so silly now. “I don’t know. I’m overwhelmed, I think. With the wedding, seeing you again, hurting Yerim… it’s been a lot.”

A lump starts growing in your throat, and you really don’t want to bawl in front of your ex, but it looks like that’s where you’re headed.

“It’s been hard for me too,” he shares, reciprocating your honesty. “And seeing you today? It nearly killed me.”

“I’m so sorry, Chanyeol,” you push past the thickening ball of tears. And you mean it. Even though you can say that he has made choices that have left you just as broken as yours have made him, there is no denying that you are the catalyst of those decisions. That’s why you fought so hard to not be affected by him bringing Yerim, why you reigned your friends in whenever they started ganging up on him. You know you’re just as much of a villain as you are a victim.

His jaw works. “I was in a wedding, but it wasn’t mine, and you were right there! It felt like the sickest form of torture. Afterwards, I only felt empty, like something was missing and…I’m scared it’s gone forever.”

He takes in the room, as if he’s searching for that piece he’s lost. and he looks just like he did when you first saw him today. You see the despair he feels, the regret, the crushing weight of finality. He’s coming to terms with this reality of his, coming to terms with the fact that he’s lost you for good.

He’s misread you again.

You’re still conflicted, but what you know for sure is that you hate his expression, hate seeing him in any kind of pain. Needing to soothe his suffering, you admit more of your truths, trying to get him to see exactly where you’re at. “I had to leave the reception early because I couldn’t watch them any longer.”

Your voice brings Chanyeol back, melting most of the misery off his face. A wave of relief washes over you and urges you to continue. “I tried, I really did. I wanted to be just as excited as everyone else was, but it seemed the more I wanted to make myself feel joy, the more miserable I felt. I didn’t want to ruin this moment for Junmyeon and the others, so I left. My plan was to just mope in my room, but then you were in the elevator with me, and I realized….” You take a deep encouraging breath and close your eyes before confessing, “I realized I didn’t want to be alone after all.”

The silence comes back, but it’s a bit louder this time with your admission hovering between you.

You’re dying to see his reaction to your words, but you’re too embarrassed to check.

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity when Chanyeol finally speaks. “So, you do feel the same way. I wondered…. Thought I was the only one who felt this…this bitterness.”

His choice of words has your head snapping up in surprise. It’s now that you realize the real reason why you took up Chanyeol’s invitation, why once in his presence you didn’t want to be alone anymore. You came here for comfort. You know that he is the only person who completely understands what you’ve been going through mentally since getting that cursed invitation. You briefly wonder if this is right. If it’s okay to run into the arms of the man whose heart you broke, because it’s a heartache you share. You both understand each other’s pain. It’s a comforting revelation to you, but you’re not sure if it is to him.

All the same, you’re going to relish in it.

“I feel it too,” you reveal. “That could’ve been us, Chanyeol.”

“That should’ve been us,” he corrects.

And then he’s taking a step towards you.

“But I got cold feet,” you admit, hoping that will stop his advances.

It doesn’t sway him. He takes another step. “You did.”

“And then you took back the ring.”

His face pinches. Still, he takes yet another step. “I did.”

“And then you brought Yerim here,” you continue.

Another step. “And then you told me you hated me.”

Confusion washes over you at that, not remembering what he’s referencing. Although you can think of many reasons why you would tell him that. “I did?”

“You did.”

“Okay, but then you kissed me.”

He’s now a breath away, staring at your lips at the reminder of the intimate act, not an ounce of regret in his features. “I did.”

“And now we’re here,” you let out in a woosh.

“And now we’re here.”

You haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the problems plaguing your relationship. You have at least five questions for him, and you’re sure he has even more for you. Sehun was right, a talk needs to be had if you want to move forward, but your body has other plans. People always say it’s a battle between the heart and mind, but no one ever brings up the body’s plight. Your body yearns for his. The close proximity is enough proof, with the way you instantly relax against the wall instead of pushing into it. Your hands are finally freed from their cage, falling at your sides.

Half of you, the more logical part of your brain, still wants to put up a fight. You know you should shove him away, create that distance in hopes to clear your mind. But, the truth is, you’re tired of fighting. You’ve been doing that all weekend; it’s exhausting and isn't working. You want to shut your brain off, want to just give into all your urges, and forget. You want to forget the pain of seeing Chanyeol with another woman, forget the way it broke your heart more than you thought it could break, forget your role in all of this. Actually, you want the opposite. You want to remember. Remember all the good times with Chanyeol. Remember everything about him that made you fall so deeply, that even after years of separation, you still haven’t been able to move on from him.

So, no, you don’t want to fight anymore. Not tonight. You want him, you never stopped wanting him, and that’s a battle you’re willing to lose, especially with the way he seems to be silently urging you to give into the energy surrounding you.

You want to remember.

Chanyeol wants to as well, because he lifts one of his hands to cup the side of your face, thumb gently rubbing the plush of your bottom lip. You always seem to end up like this–asking for distance, yet closing it everytime.

The contact is as much familiar as it is foreign. He’s touched your face a couple times already during this trip, but this time it feels new, like it’s the first time he’s dared to.

His skin on yours throws you back into the past, back to before you ruined everything, when you both were unabashedly in love, and it wasn’t complicated.

He takes you in with wonder. “My Melody.”

My Melody. There it is. His nickname for you in its entirety. It’s so tenderly said, it only further pulls you deeper into nostalgia. You are the melody of his life–that’s what he always said, and that’s why he gave you the name. Even with just Mel, you understood the implications of the name, knew that you still had possession of his heart, no matter how hard you wanted to ignore it. You are his melody, always and forever.

The fire that has been idling within you explodes, becoming a forest fire and burning what little restraint you have left. You want to be his Melody, want to prove to him that you’re still deserving of the title. Damn near desperate, you wrap his tie around your fist and use it to yank him down and press your lips firmly against his.

He yelps in surprise, but is kissing you back with just as much fervor, sighing with the sweet relief of finally having you like this. He lets you pull his lips apart, sliding your tongue into the cavern of his mouth to prod his own. His hands grip your waist almost painfully as he tilts his head to the side to get better access. It doesn’t take long for him to overtake your dominance, shoving your tongue back into your mouth, with his right behind, needing to be inside of you, somehow someway.

A grunt leaves him, the noise putting every inch of your body on high alert. Your nipples stiffen and a warm pool gathers in your panties. The need to have him closer, closer grows stronger with every sound that leaves his sinful lips.

If there is one thing Chanyeol hasn’t seemed to forget, it’s the effect he has on your body. As if to prove just how in sync you are, he cups the back of your knees and lifts you up so that you can wrap your legs around his narrow hips. He pushes you roughly against the wall, using his body to hold you up. Fingers crawl from your knees, up the sides of your thighs, and slither underneath your dress. He stops before he hits your hips, curling his fingers into claws to rack his nails back down the trail they just took, leaving pink lines in their wake. Your head falls back from the dull pain, enjoying it just as much as the pleasure. Chanyeol rewards you with wet messy kisses to the column of your exposed neck.

“Fuck,” he growls against your warm skin. The sound does wonders to your nether regions. You shiver, getting lost in the feeling of your chest rubbing against his with every uneven breath you both take.

“Missed you so much, My Melody.” Chanyeol groans. “I need to show you. Please, let me show you how much.”

“Yes,” you whimper, tugging at his hair in an attempt to pull him back to your mouth. “Fuck, Chanyeol, yes.”

His lips meet yours again, but this time they’re short, almost playful, pecks.

His hands run over the land of your body, reacquainting himself with you. His inquisitive fingers discover the zipper at the back of your dress, and he plays with it.

“May I?” He asks, voice now deepened with desire. It takes everything in you not to just tear every article of clothing separating the two of you.

Instead, you settle on a whimpering, “please.”

He smiles into your mouth and takes hold of the zipper, pulling it down at a painstakingly slow pace. Your beautiful gown falls off your shoulders, but you don’t break the kiss or make any move to help him remove it until he has it unzipped completely.

It’s only when he has it zipped as far as it will go that you finally pull away, giving him a full view. He’s already staring at your chest, licking his lips in anticipation. A swell of pride fills you, knowing that you are the reason for the hungry expression on his face. Eager to please him, you shimmy your shoulders, the action causing the fabric to slide off and gather at your lap, exposing your top half fully to him.

“No bra?” He finally breathes after taking a moment to appraise you, transfixed.

“You couldn’t tell?”

His eyes flicker up to your face in a heatless glare, gaining a victorious smirk from you.

“I was a bit preoccupied by your tongue, I fear.”

“Well,” you lean your face closer to his. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He matches your wicked grin before–not breaking eye contact–placing a tender kiss to one of your breasts. You bite your lip at the sensation, fighting the urge to moan. He leaves another kiss to your other breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the nub. Your head falls back again, hips circling with want.

A hiss leaves your swollen mouth as he scrapes his teeth over your rigid nipple, apologizing for the pain with a kitty lick. Never one to play favorites, he cups the other breast not currently in his mouth, rolling your erect nub between his thumb and forefinger.

You poke out your chest for Chanyeol to devour, and dig the heels of your feet into the base of his back, needing to feel the pressure of his want for you against your building heat. You both seem to like that, if your matching moans are any indication. He switches breasts, sucking the other one into his mouth. You cradle the back of his head, holding him against your chest, closing your eyes as you succumb to the pleasure only he’s able to give you properly. As if to confirm this, Chanyeol slips a hand into your dress, over the band of your underwear, to caress the heat between your legs. You jerk in surprise, gasping at the sensation. His answering chuckle is dark, a warning of what is to come.

“So eager,” he murmurs, dripping lips tickling your slippery chest. “So wet. I’ve barely touched you and can tell. Did you miss me that much, Melody?”

Slightly embarrassed, you want to order him to shut up, but the truth is that you did miss him that much, and are damn near desperate to have him fill you up.

“Don’t tease me,” you beg in a needy breath.

“But I’m so good at it.” He grins against your neck, back to giving sloppy kisses.

“Two can play that game,” you warn before grinding against his growing hard-on. He sharply inhales and is quick to put a stop to it, hands going to your hips, halting your actions. You groan in frustration, needing to get off.

“No.” His voice is shaky with barely contained control. He pulls back, giving you a steady look. “Tonight is all about you.”

You want to ask what the hell he means by that, but then he’s wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you over to the bed, dropping to his knees on the floor so that you’re able to sit on the edge of the mattress. Your dress is bunched up to your mid-thigh, and Chanyeol takes advantage of that, pulling one of your legs up to rest your calf on his shoulder. He places a tender, lingering kiss right above your knee and gathers the end of your dress, rolling it up to bunch it in his hands at your waist. With every new inch of skin he exposes, he leaves another tender kiss upon your flesh. The sensation has your breath trembling.

Once his lips touch the joint of your hip and thigh, right beside the place you want him most, he yanks your dress back down, dragging your panties down with it.

You don’t even realize what he has done until you feel his breath at your now exposed cunt.

“Wait–”

He doesn’t give you enough time to process what is happening before he’s licking a swipe up your center. The feeling of his tongue causes you to gasp so loud, you wince at the sound of your own voice bouncing off the walls.

Chanyeol’s eyes roll to the back of his head as the taste of you coats his tongue. “My memory hasn’t done you justice. You taste so fucking good, Mel. I need more.”

He holds your hips down and dives in for more. You moan and fall back, hands gripping the bed sheets for dear life as Chanyeol proceeds to eat you out like a man starved.

He gives your clit a quick suck and you cry out, hips jerking as the bundle of nerves are activated.

“Oh.” He chuckles to himself. “How could I forget? That always gets you, huh, Baby?”

“Ch–Ch….” You can’t even speak. You knot one of your hands into his hair. Despite the vice of your grip, you make sure to gently pull his head back to where he was, to finish what he fucking started.

“Didn’t think you’d give in this quickly,” he murmurs, ignoring your increasingly aggressive pulls as he places a tender kiss onto your swollen clit. You gasp, tender as all hell. “I thought you moved on already? Why you begging me, Baby?”

“Don’t be an ass—" Your sentence turns into a gasped moan as he runs his tongue up your core, briefly slipping his tongue into your hole shutting you up quickly. You tilt your head back, so that you’re staring blankly at the headboard, being transported to a different dimension.

“Please,” is all you can say, desperate enough that you forget Chanyeol’s teasing words, begging as much as you need to get what you need.

“Of course, my love.” He’s so quick to please. “But, you have to watch me make you cum.”

It takes you a moment to gather yourself, but you’re able to pull yourself up by the elbows. As soon as you catch the vast darkness that has become of Chanyeol’s eyes, you feel a fresh batch of arousal pool at your entrance. Chanyeol instantly notices, what with his tongue inside you. He moans in delight, his unwavering gaze flaring with determination.

The vibration of his deep baritone is almost enough to unlock your orgasm. Your mouth falls open, struggling to take in oxygen. Your chest heaves, sweat coating your body in a sheer layer, all signs of an impending explosion.

Both your legs now rest on Chanyeol’s shoulders, and he takes advantage of it, running his hands up and down the face of your thighs as he gives your clit quick teasing sucks. Despite wanting to watch you watch him make you cum, he can’t help but break eye contact, closing his eyes in indulgence as he loses himself in you.

It’s fucking hot, the pleasure getting you off gives him. He once told you how he could spend hours with his head between your legs, and you know from experience how true that statement is.

Finally, he latches onto your bud completely, and his eyes fly open. It’s his finishing act, and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of you coming undone above him. He sucks hard and relentlessly, humming loudly to get vibrations to tingle and activate your nerves.

You curse. Hands again curling around the poor sheets as your body stiffens, almost painfully, as your orgasm builds, builds, builds. Chanyeol watches, unblinking, determined to see you come undone, and that is enough encouragement to have you combust.

With a loud yell of his name, you come. Your hips roll uncontrollably, and Chanyeol matches them, lips never leaving your center. He rides your wave with you, refusing to let go until you’re at your limit.

Black dots start to obstruct your vision, and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t get off of you, so you tap his shoulder quickly. He understands immediately, and unlatches himself from you with a loud pop, allowing you a respite. He can’t resist giving in one more time, placing a brisk kiss to your entrance, which causes your hips to jerk from the overstimulation. Once he’s retracted himself fully, you go limp, heaving as you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” is all you’re able to get out, wiping sweat off your forehead.

You check on Chanyeol and catch him watching you, biting his lip in an attempt to hide—and fail—his prideful grin. “Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs at that.

“Are you done already, Mel?” He asks, deep voice teasing.

Half of you wants to say yes, to wave your white flag in surrender. This is the hardest you’ve cum in years, since the last time Chanyeol was in your bed.

He may be teasing, but you know that if you tell him that you are, in fact, fucked out now, he wouldn’t protest. You can see it now: he’d clean you up and curl up behind you. You’d feel his raging boner, but he’d assure you not to worry about it, kissing your bare shoulder as he throws the thin sheet under the davul over you both, lulling you to sleep.

But that’s not how you want the night to end.

You want Chanyeol over you—in you. You want to see his face when he climaxes, watch the way he loses himself from the feel of you, and by the hope in his eyes, you know what he wants you to choose.

“Take off your pants and fuck me,” you order, voice already scratchy from overuse.

His lips curl dangerously. “That’s my girl.”

You expect him to follow your demand and strip, but he surprises you by spreading your legs apart, exposing your drenched private to him.

“What are you doing?” You question suspiciously, not really up for another round of his mouth. You are far too sensitive to go through that again.

“I have a feeling you’re not used to me anymore,” he murmurs. That cocky grin back on his face.

You scoff.

All humor leaves his form as he gazes down at you, and it makes you swallow back the snarky remark on your tongue. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That vulnerability you saw during the wedding is back, aging him backwards. You know that he’s talking about more than just your long-neglected cunt, and that makes your throat thicken and burn.

“Is that okay?” He asks. You can only nod in confirmation.

His smile turns shy, and he’s glancing down at your core, fingers tickling your entrance. That shyness disappears completely when he slides his index finger into you.

You shift uncomfortably, always having to adjust to having something inside of you.

He swallows thickly, watching the way his finger glistens against the light ahead everytime he pulls it out in awe. He adds his thick middle finger into the mix and you gnaw on your bottom lip, legs widening, allowing him more access. Your cursed hips meet his slow thrusts on their own accord.

“You like that?” He asks, voice a whisper. Eyes flicker briefly to yours, catching the seductive way your eyelids hood over, and he curses under his breath. Your expression is enough of an answer for him.

“Kiss me,” you breathlessly demand. Without hesitation, he’s leaning over your shivering body to slot his lips between yours, honoring your request. The new position shoves his fingers deeper, caressing your g-spot, making you moan and groan into his mouth. He swallows each noise greedily, curling his fingers to enhance your pleasure. Your kisses are sloppy, your lips sliding off of each other with how wet they are. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it only makes you more wet.

“Undress me,” he orders into your mouth. His dominance makes you unconsciously clench around his fingers. He smiles, taking great pride in turning you on. You go for his tie again, deciding to discard it first. Sliding it off of him, you toss it quickly out of sight, knowing him well enough to know he’d use it later, and you don’t want to lose any of your senses tonight.

You’re still heavily making out as your hands go to unbutton his dress shirt. Once it’s open, he pulls both away and out of you long enough to yank the opposing fabric off, as well as the undershirt he has on underneath. Completely shirtless, he grabs your hips and tosses you further onto the mattress. You yelp as you’re airborne, landing onto the pile of pillows in a huff. He crawls over to you. Boldly, you observe him. His body is just as sculpted as it always was. Golden collar bones protrude so delicately, you want to sink your teeth into them. Honestly, his whole torso is untouched with any blemishes, and your mouth waters with the urge to disrupt that, to paint his empty canvas with hues of blues and purples and pinks and reds and yellows.

“Eyes up here.” His voice is right above you, closer than you are expecting, and you pull away from his chest, up to those big and bright eyes of his that shine with a mixture of humor and lust. A very alluring combination.

He grins boyishly at you before sinking three fingers slowly into you, filling you up so good you mewl, latching onto his shoulders to keep yourself from falling into the pile of pillows behind you.

The only thing that can be heard is the sound of his fingers entering and re-entering your wet pussy. If it wasn’t so damn pleasurable, you probably would find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

“You’re sucking me in,” he says in awe.

“Because I want you, Yeol,” you whimper.

“You want me?” He repeats, like he doesn’t believe it. You find his skepticism a bit exasperating, since he has his fingers knuckles deep in you and what not. Part of you knows that you deserve his reluctance. His feelings haven’t really been in question. It’s always been you drawing the boundaries.

Now is the time to break them completely.

“So much.” You reassure, despite barely being able to speak. To further prove yourself, you run a palm over the bulge currently tightening his pants and he hisses, a shudder violently ransacking his frame. Encouraged, you undo his belt, unzip his pants, and pull them down until his dick springs out. You haven’t seen many penises in your life, but Chanyeol’s is the only one that you have ever deemed beautiful. Everything about it is perfect. Perfect length, perfect girth, perfect shade of pink. Even the way the veins rain down to the base is lovely. The head locks its eye with you and you lean forward, giving into the urge to run your tongue flat over it, licking the pearl of precum sitting precariously on the slit.

He hums in satisfaction, hips unconsciously bucking forward, asking for more.

You glance up at him, questioning what he wants you to do, but he gives you a quick shake of his head. The hand that’s not knuckles deep in you cups your chin, and he leans down, placing a sweet kiss unto your needy lips.

“I want your pussy more than your mouth right now.”

“God,” is all you can say. He smirks as he pulls away, drawing his hand out of you. You’re quick to snatch his wrist. He gives you a questioning look and now you’re the one to smirk as you bring his soaked fingers to your just as wet mouth, running your tongue along his middle finger before slipping it into your mouth, sucking it clean. You refuse to look away, moaning around his appendage. His mouth falls open at the feeling of you sucking on him. His dick is so close it brushes your arm every time it twitches from you hollowing your cheeks. Once his middle finger is clean, you move onto the others, giving them the same treatment. Chanyeol’s free hand wraps around his member, slowly milking it as he watches you intently with clenched jaws.

Finally, you suck all three fingers clean of your essence and release his index finger with a loud pop.

“Such a nasty girl,” he says, both amazed and turned on.

“You haven’t even seen the half of it, Sweetie.”

“Show me,” he urges.

Eager to please, you flip yourself over onto your hands and knees, poking your ass out to him like a cat in heat. You flip your hair to one side, peeking over your shoulder to see Chanyeol finally strip himself of the rest of his clothing, zeroed in on your drenched pussy, open and ready for him.

He strokes himself as he climbs behind you, preparing to enter you.

Right as the head of his cock presses against you, he stops and falls back on his knees.

You groan in protest.

“I don’t have a condom,” he reveals, voice dripping in regret.

That’s enough to have you pausing. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t plan on having sex during this trip.”

“That’s a relief, I guess,” you grumble. An awkward silence fills the air, neither one of you really knowing what to do now. But then you remember.

“It’s okay,” you reassure, reaching back to run your fingers delicately over the ridges of his stomach. It hardens under your touch, and his dick bounces, brushing against your folds, and you have to bite your lip to hold in a moan. “It really is. I’m on birth control. We’ll be fine.”

He’s still unsure, gazing down at you apologetically, so you lean back a bit, rubbing against the tip of his member. That’s enough to spur him on and he’s back on his knees, lining himself up with you. You shudder in anticipation as the head of his cock rubs against your throbbing entrance.

“Relax, Baby,” Chanyeol coos. He lays his hand on your back, coaxing you to do as he says. You haven’t even realized how stiff you’ve gotten until you feel his palm. Under his hand, you let go, sink deeper into the mattress, arch your back out. It’s only then that he slowly pushes himself in.

You both groan in unison at the sensation.

When he’s about half way in, he pauses, giving you time to adjust. It stings a bit, and you’re grateful he’s able to read you well enough to know you need a moment. He’s a patient fellow, leaning down to drape himself over you and shower distracting kisses up and down your spine. His hands rub comforting circles on the bones of your hips before languidly trailing up your sides to massage your dangling breasts. You lean into his touch with a satisfied moan. The action has you slipping a few more inches of him deeper into your hot core.

A growl rips from his chest, teeth scraping against your shoulder blade, hands curl into claws at your chest, squeezing your tits so hard you yelp in pain.

“Sorry!” He apologizes in a breathless rush. “Sorry. I just–uuuugh fuck. Just give me a second.”

He goes completely still on top of you, the only thing moving is his chest as he struggles to regain control.

That’s the last thing you want him to do.

You want him to lose himself entirely in you. Want him to give in completely to his desires.

“Babe,” you call.

He doesn’t answer.

You try again. “Yeol, you don’t have to hold back. I want you. I’m ready. Please.”

Your voice is a broken plea by the end and it seems to do the trick. It’s a struggle, but Chanyeol is able to straighten, hands gripping your hips for balance. With a guttural grunt, he snaps forward, shoving the rest of his dick fully inside of you. His thrust jolts you forward, and you fall face first into the pillows. Yes, god, yes. This is what you’ve been missing, this is what you have been so desperate for.

He curses under his breath in what you can only describe as a whine. “Needed you for so long.”

His strokes are aggressive and relentless. He uses your hips to impale you onto his dick over and over again at a hard and steady pace. He hits that spot every time he bottoms out, the head of his cock brushing against you in a way that’s got your eyes rolling and thighs shaking.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you and his name leaves your swollen mouth in whiny protest. He ignores you, simply wrapping his hands around your ankles to yank your legs out from under you, making you rest onto your stomach.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“What you asked,” he replies, giving your ass a quick smack before maneuvering himself around you. He shifts his legs, moving them so that they’re caging your own. The new position forces you to close your legs, pressing them firmly together. He falls forward, sinking all of his weight on top of you.

“Oh!” Now this is what you’re talking about.

“I thought so.” His voice is a growl in your ear. One of his arms goes around your neck like a necklace. Your head slots perfectly into the dip of his elbow, and you think it’s the perfect pillow. It’s a fleeting thought, what with him sliding his throbbing cock back into you, fucking you like he never stopped. The new angle is actually insane. With your legs closed, you feel even more full of him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he uses his knees to make the bed bounce, the momentum of the mattress doing most of the work for him. The headlock he has you in adds just enough pressure to get you light headed, cutting your airflow, and adding to your pleasure. Your vision doubles and you’re sure your eyes are crossing, but you don’t even care how crazy you look right now, all that matters is the feeling of Park Chanyeol all in and around you. He whispers the nastiest things into your ear, letting you know how good you feel, how much he likes it, what it’s doing to him. His voice is as much an aphrodisiac as everything else, and with him using it to talk filthy like that, you’re not sure how much longer you will last.

He shoves his dick fully in you and keeps it there, rotating his hips to grind deeply into you. He’s right on your g-spot, the pressure makes your eyes flutter, mouth fall open, so lost in the sauce your brain is short circuiting.

“I missed being buried inside of you,” He huffs into your ear. “Missed hearing the little noises you make.” His nose goes into your hair. “You take my dick so well, Baby.”

You’re a moaning mess underneath him, taken over by lust, and he can tell. Giving another one of his now signature chuckles, he licks the shell of your ear and blows on it, his unwavering hips still rolling deep into you.

“I. Want,” you huff between strokes. “To. See. You. Yeol.”

You blink and you’re on your back. Lost in a daze, still stumbling to catch your bearings when his lips are sliding over yours. You gather yourself enough to match him, needy and desperate for more. His tongue sweeps over your lips and you whimper.

Hands cup your face, and he’s breaking off the kiss. A thick string of saliva dangles between you both as he pulls back, breaking off to fall onto your chin. He appraises you, taking in every centimeter of your face with an expression that’s got you dizzy and shaking.

He runs a thumb over your cheek. “I love you like this,” he whispers. “Utterly fucked out. Drunk off my dick–off of me. You’re the most beautiful when you’re a mess like this.”

You get hit with a wave of fondness. Feeling sentimental, you run the tips of your fingers over his jaw, smiling weakly. “Fuck me, Chanyeol.”

The adoration in your tone and expression and touch has Chanyeol chuckling, but he doesn’t deny you. He pulls one of your legs up to his hip, giving him access to enter you again. You’re so slick with arousal that it’s effortless at this point. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before, it slides down your buttcrack, coats the inside of your thighs and the patch of hair on Yeol’s pubic bone. It’s all his fault. Park Chanyeol is a sex god, and it’s been so long you forgot, but he is going to remind you right now.

This position is more intimate than the others and immediately you notice the difference. Both his hands and eyes stay on your face, refusing to look anywhere else as he begins to thrust into you at a pace some would probably deem too slow, but is perfect for you. It makes it so that you can feel him, and he can feel all of you in turn. You’re both breathing into each other’s mouths, but don’t kiss. You don’t speak either, the only sounds are heavy breathing and the slick sound of connected sex. Your stomach knots, and at first you assume it’s your next orgasm, but realize in terror that it’s something else entirely. No, it’s the awakening of an old feeling you haven’t felt in years. It builds quickly, overwhelming you with its urgency, smarting your eyes.

Chanyeol groans, finally breaking off the eye contact as his head falls into the crook of your neck. Again, he puts his full weight on you, and you wrap your arms and legs around him, dig your feet into his lower back, encouraging him to go deeper, to go faster. He obliges, and a moan falls from your mouth with every snap of his hips.

The new position brings his body to your attention, and that gorgeous neck of his that you’ve been eyeing since you first saw him is now the pick of the litter. You’re quick to latch onto his shoulder like a leech, sucking up the bone of his clavicles and base of his neck, anywhere your lips can reach. The sensation adds a bit more gas into the fire, making Chanyeol’s movements rougher.

“Mmm, don’t stop doing that,” he purrs. “I want everyone to know what we did tonight.”

His words only make you suck harder and he swears under his breath, picking up speed.

The new speed is getting the job done. You growl as you start to feel your actual orgasm bloom to life.

“I’m gonna cum,” you inform him in a breath, hands roaming his body, wandering down to squeeze his plump ass.

Hearing that only urges him to continue what he’s doing. God, he’s such a good listener.

“That’s right, cum on my dick.” he encourages. “I need you to, Baby.”

He shudders, and you know he’s close as well. He dips his head to rest his forehead against yours, searching deep into your eyes.

“Come with me.”

You latch onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he rocks into you. You swear everytime he hits your spot he pierces your heart as well. Over and over, stroking at those dusty heartstrings of yours.

Orgasms are a lot like sneezes. Your chest heaves, mouth falling open to swallow as much oxygen as you can as you brace yourself for your release. Your fingers turn to claws against Chanyeol’s skin and he cries out. For a moment you think he beat you to the chase, but his thrusts are unrelenting. He refuses to break eye contact, taking you in with wonder, not wanting to miss a thing.

That sweet lost look on his face is what does it for you.

You cum hard. Your mind shuts off, overwhelmed with how good you feel as your orgasm hits you, running throughout your body in blissful waves.

“I love you!”

The phrase is thrown out into the room, startling you. It takes you a moment to realize it’s your voice confessing into the night. Tears pool and tumble down the corner of your eyes, pouring down your temples in hot trails. “God, Chanyeol, I love you!”

His thrusts grow sloppy, and then he’s spilling into you. Filling you up with hot bursts of his seed that nearly send you into another orgasm.

Then, he falls on top of you, exhausted, and it’s quiet as you both try to catch your breath. He kisses your tears away and you sniff, closing your eyes at the sweet gesture. Your orgasm takes all your energy with it, and your eyes grow increasingly heavy. It’s an effort to fight your lids. You can’t even move your body, it’s sunken into the sweaty sheets, becoming part of the mattress.

Chanyeol pulls out of you and you let out a discontent whine, feeling his absence and not liking it.

“I know, baby,” you think you hear him say, but it’s hard to concentrate on anything right now that’s not trying to stay awake. He gets off the bed. You attempt to speak, but can’t find the energy to move your lips, so your words come out in a discombobulated mumble. He replies, you hear him, but god bless you both, can’t understand a word of it.

The bed dips under Chanyeol’s returned weight and then your legs are being pulled apart and something warm and damp swipes between them. Chanyeol says something that you, again, miss, losing your battle against sleep.

Your eyes are closed by now so you just relax into the pillows and give into slumber….

series m.list | main m.list

previous chapter | next chapter

taglist @byunparklimchoi, @defloey @notyuji (if you don't want to be tagged lmk 😅)

#chanyeol scenario #chanyeol scenarios #exo scenario #exo scenarios #chanyeol oneshot #chanyeol oneshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #chanyeol drabble #chanyeol drabbles #exo drabble #exo drabbles #chanyeol #entangled

61 notes · View notes

bearlytolerant · 6 months

Note

Sooooo, are you still taking writing prompts? What about a Starborn PC (aka Shephard) heading into Nishina station and Sam can’t figure out what the hell she’s so worried about? I’m heading in there NG 6 and it’s just such emotional whiplash, depending on how you play. Sweet Jesus, the angst/comfort/smut potential….😁

Love your fics so much, thanks for sharing!

Fandom: Starfield

Pairing: Sam Coe x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2135

🌟Note: Contains Main Story Spoilers🌟

the world can wait

You’ve done this before. More than once. It’s not complicated but it is tedious. Worth it to save both realities again and again. Shifting between the sterilized facility with robot defenses and its survival horror counterpart, complete with alien monstrosities. You make quick work of it all, overriding the obstacles blocking your way to get to the lab. To the artifact.

Only this time, Raphael’s body in the sterilized reality doesn’t contain the slate that’s needed to save everyone. Padding him down, you check every pocket, sleeve, boot, anything you can find. But there’s nothing.

“Shit, Raph, where’d you put the damn slate?” The search spreads wider.

You rifle through lockers and under desks and chairs. You even check the bathroom. Maybe he dropped it behind the toilet? But it’s nowhere to be found and time is ticking. Shifting back to the reality colored apocalyptic horror, you find Raphael, alive and well.

“Hey, do you have the slate?”

“What slate?” he asks and his confusion has your stomach in knots.

“The one with the degaussing instructions.”

“I don't have that.”

If only you’d taken time to memorize it. The regret pools in your gut. Learning the hard way, again.

With a sigh, you thank him and head back to the sterilized reality. At the very least, you can save this version. But new questions arise in your head with the turn of events. Is it a mercy to leave Raph, protecting him from the crushing weight of being a sole survivor? Or will he slowly starve to death, coming back for you in another universe, angry and vengeful?

There’s no time to dwell. You make your choice. Scientists over Raphael.

You disengage every power interlock as quickly as you can. Power down the central control and grab the artifact.

Spinning and swirling and swimming in a sea of stars, the unity touches your mind, showing you the latest thread spun in your particular tapestry of fate.

You wake up, only one thing on your mind.

Sam.

Did this new decision cause a disruption or a disconnect? Will you leave Nishima and find him standing just outside the facility where he said he’ll be?

How badly is this world fucked?

Panic rises, festering and oozing out through your sweating palms. You fret and fumble, stumbling your way back to the main entrance. You don’t even bother to check up on the scientists. They’re obviously fine. Their thank yous roll off your back as you pass them by. You see the exit.

The door hisses and it feels like an eternity before they pull apart enough for you to squeeze through, eyes searching for the place he should be.

“Sam?” You call, your voice dry, rough and cracked.

But he’s not where you left him.

Your heart races. You’re mumbling “no” under your breath, over and over again, like a penitent sinner. Pleading with the heavens, and bargaining with the stars.

“Sam!” You scream.

His name is a choked back sob burning at the back of your throat.

“You better be here,” you croak, eyes searching the horizon and all the places around you.

He shouldn’t be back at the ship but what if he is? What if he’s safe? A glimmer of hope. You need to see. Need to know.

You take another step forward, the tears drying as you tell yourself that he’ll be there.

But then that little worm named worry inches in, whispering to you, what if he isn’t? Then you’ll have to explain to your crew mates. Explain to Cora.

Oh, no—Cora.

You slump to your knees, the voice of worry growing louder. A cacophony of horrible what-ifs brings your heart rate up so high your hands are shaking. You can’t go back to the ship without him. You can’t—you won’t. You know you haven’t searched everywhere. There's one last place before you’ll give in and go to the ship, to face whatever might be waiting there. So you turn around, retracing your steps back to the facility, heading up the stairs and toward the cliff edge. You pass by a tree on the right and pause to watch as the sky awakens in an ambient peach glow. It’s beautiful but it’s not Sam. You hang your head, hopeless.

“Oh Sam,” you whisper to yourself. “Where are you?”

A hand on your shoulder has you reeling around, gun in your hand.

“Whoa, whoa! You alright there, darlin,?”

Sam.

He’s okay. He’s okay! The weight lifts off you and just one look into his baby blues is enough to carry you down from that panic driven high.The air is breathable again as you toss your gun aside, throwing your arms around Sam’s neck. You cling to him, fingers grasping at the bare skin of the back of his neck, tears flowing freely down your face. “Where were you? I looked everywhere and you weren’t—you weren’t—“

Then your hands are on his cheeks, fingers to his lips as your eyes map out the entirety of his face. You wrap your arms around his midsection and squeeze, ear pressed against his chest. His heartbeat is a steady thrum inside your head.

He holds you tight, smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Shh, I’m right here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

“I thought I’d lost you.” Again.

“You haven’t lost me,” he says. “I’m here.”

He gently removes your hands from his neck and holds them, studying your face.

You grasp his hands tightly, and bring them to your lips. One kiss for each knuckle and one kiss for each scar. Then you flip his palms over and kiss those too.

The lines of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. “You okay? Need to talk about what happened in there?”

You shake your head. You’d rather forget it all.

“I just—I need you.”

“Okay,” he says in his familiar and calming drawl. He presses his lips to your forehead. “Okay.”

You lift your chin, searching his eyes. Drink up his soft and gentle smile. Then you kiss him. Deep and devoted. His tongue slips into your mouth, hands roving your body, urgent and insatiable.

You back him against the nearby tree, out of sight for anyone that might come along. No one will, though. You’re confident of that. It’s just you and him and the wide expanse of land meeting sky embracing the two of you in a morning haze.

Your fingers are undoing his belt buckle and his hands slide up your back, to your shoulders and then cup your face. His eyes are askance of your audience.

“We don’t—you don’t have to do this.”

“It’s not a matter of obligation. But of want. Of need,” you tell him.

It’s a matter of finding some solace in the sighs you can invoke. You want to hear him, revere him, touch him. Immerse the entirety of your essence in him.

“Who am I to protest then?” he says with a chuckle.

How you’ve missed that. Missed him. Those few moments without him were just minutes but felt like days—no millennia.

His belt buckle loosens. Button unsnaps.

You relish in the soft zip mixed with the quiet hush of wind at your ear, kneeling before him as the supplicant pilgrim. He’s already shirking out of his jacket, tossing it on the ground beside you. Your fingers inch under the hem of his shirt, exploring the skin of his body and brushing over the hair of his belly. Sprawling hands out to his sides, finger pads pressing into the black inked tattoos, you rest your forehead against him.

Three deep breaths and you’re grounded for a moment.

One of his hands pets your head, soothing and calming before you press your lips to his belly button. Plant a plush path of kisses down to the elastic of his boxer briefs. Then you dip your hand past the band, tugging, and freeing his cock. Gently you massage his balls, while wrapping your other hand around his length. You pump once, careful not to pull the sensitive skin.

He murmurs something sweet, calls you darlin’ as you slide your hand down his shaft. You lick your lips as you eye his excited cock, bobbing slightly and eager. You kiss the veins and make use of your tongue, testing and tasting. Having a bit of fun.

With satisfaction, you envelope him with your lips.

He shudders under the sudden shock of warmth from your mouth; a flood of sensations to his nerves. You draw him in deeper, massaging him as you delight in his tip touching the back of your throat. You pull free, with a smack of tongue to lips while releasing his balls. A string of saliva catches fractals of light as you swipe it from your bottom lip, glancing up to meet his adoring eyes.

“You’re a sight to behold,” he says, voice deep and gravelly.

He doesn’t realize that he’s the true sight to behold. But you will show him. Show him that he’s all that and more.

You close your eyes, those words washing away all that worry. Lips pressed to his tip, you open your mouth wider to be filled with the entirety of him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck. Your other hand, snaking around his ass and gripping, steadies you as he hisses a profanity.

His hand has slipped from your head to the back of your neck where he holds you tenderly. Though his cock twitches and hips jerk, begging to thrust, he remains self-controlled.

Your own arousal heightens under his strained moans and self suffocated cries. And you take more of him. More of those muffled sounds and praises that keep tumbling out of his mouth with every lick of your tongue. Every languid drag.

You quicken the pace, driven by the urge to please him and a bit of precum spills. You withdraw, lapping it up with a lewd swipe of your tongue.

Stealing another glance up at him, his eyes are closed, head falling back against the tree bark and that self control wavers with a desperate, “please,” and squeeze of your neck.

You oblige happily, losing yourself to his shudders and sighs. Ravishing his length in your mouth, setting a rhythm that pushes him to the precipice, guides him to the edge. His nails dig into your shoulder as you draw him in and out of your mouth. One great sigh and the grip of his hand loosens. Salt and warmth slide down your throat and you still your lips, gently sucking the remainder of his spend.

You swallow each and every last drop. With one last suck before release, his hands pull you away, drawing you up to his lips as he bends over you. Kisses you, urgent and besotted. After a few moments lost in the taste of one another, you break apart. Breathless. Come together again in a desperate embrace. Suspended in time, the sky brightens to almost blinding within the next hour. You never want to let him go. But the others will start to wonder. Unless—

“We should get back,” you say. “We need to check on the others.”

“Why?” Sam asks, tucking himself away and adjusting his pants. He buckles his belt.

“I had to do things differently this time—in Nishina. It’s why I was so worried I couldn’t find you. I was terrified something happened and—what if that something happened to the others—to Cora.” There’s that little flutter of panic again.

“Shh,” he says, pulling you back against his chest. “They’re alright,” he reassures.

“How do you know?”

He pulls away, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezes. “I’ve already checked in on them through the comms. They’re okay. We’re all okay.”

You can feel the moisture in the corner of your eye but you wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your forehead, then your cheek. Finally your lips. “Immensely and totally.”

And you know this in every fiber of your being but it is a relief to have it spoken. After everything.

You snatch up his jacket from the ground and dust it off. Hold it open as he stuffs an arm in, shirking it back on. Taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it once.

“I love you Sam Coe, and when we get to a quieter place, I’m going to spend a whole day showing you just how much.”

“Holding me hostage for a day, then?”

“Make that a week.”

With a chuckle and squeeze of your hand, he says, “I’m all yours, darlin’.”

And together you find your way back to the ship.

#bear replies #bear writes #prompt fill #sam coe x reader #starfield spoilers #starfield fanfic #entangled #smut #also this is my first time posting a gen reader fic so I hope it’s okay #and I hope this suits your prompt well enough #thank you for the prompt and the sweet compliment

42 notes · View notes