Tangled (A Stray Kids x Reader Dirty Fanfic)

Part 8 - The Sin

Bang Chan sat down heavily in his chair, one hand covering his mouth and the other wrapped around his own waist as if he was hugging himself. He sat like that, staring at your torso, for what seemed like a year. Your shirt hung open and the evidence of the kind of time you'd spent with Minho and Jisung covered your chest and stomach. There were bite marks and finger bruises running from shoulder to hips, interrupted only by your thin bra. "It's nothing," you said in a small voice, shrinking under his gaze. "All consensual."

He exhaled and looked at you frankly. His face was a mask of concern and - something else just under the surface. He finally spoke. "Are there - are there more?" You blushed. "I guess there are a couple of other sore spots," you murmured, unthinkingly running your hand over your backside. He blinked several times, then leaned forward and put his hands on your hips, turning you around. "Show me," he said again, his voice huskier this time.

Resigned, you closed your eyes and began to pull your skirt and stockings down, stopping when he gasped, your clothes gathered just below your ass. "I know what it looks like," you stammered, "but really it was - " your voice caught in your throat when he knelt behind you and lightly traced the blue outline of Han's belt with one finger, letting his palm slide across your bruised bottom. "I can't believe this," he breathed, standing up. You turned to face him and were confronted with two facts - Bang Chan's gorgeous face was unreadable, and his cock was very, very hard.

It was going to burst the zipper on his pants. Your jaw dropped, but he didn't react at all. "I had no idea my boys could do... that." He looked a tiny bit proud then. He wrapped his arms around you and put his lips close to your ear. "It's usually me."

Had you heard him correctly? You trembled hard in his arms, but he just tightened them around you. You knew if he wanted to, he could probably squeeze the life right out of your body. Instead of murder, he chose to reach around your body and gently pull your skirt and stockings back up. When you winced at the pressure on your bruised ass, you felt his cock jump against you. Clearing his throat, he pushed you an arms length away and began buttoning up your shirt, not acknowledging the situation in his pants whatsoever. You just stood there, not sure what was happening, studying his flushed face. Once you were buttoned up, he looked directly into your eyes with a small smile and nod. "I guess you're perfect, huh?"

You remained speechless. Perfect for what? He turned and grabbed your wine glasses, handed you yours, and you both drained them in one gulp. "I'm going to pour us one more. And then," he sighed deeply, "you are going home." You looked at him, confused. Once your pants were down, you assumed you were there for the night. "What is going on?" you said under your breath, and his face dropped as a pained expression crossed it. "You need to recover." You were half relieved and half disappointed. It would not be the worst thing in the world to spend the night finding out what exactly he meant by " it's usually me", but you were certainly sore enough to breathe a sigh of relief, too.

He watched the thoughts cross your face and licked his lips. "I need you at full power this week. The start of a tour is always tough, and you're going to be busy capturing it all on film. As much as I'd love to..." his voice trailed off and he kissed you - on the cheek! - then hurried over to the bar to grab the wine, filling your glasses almost to the rim. "Look. I'm calling you a cab. I want you to go home and rest. Don't answer any calls from any of the boys, especially not those two. I want you to get a full night's sleep, pack, and be ready to get on the plane the day after tomorrow." He pressed his palm down on the front of his pants, crushing his hardon, fruitlessly trying to make it leave. He smiled slightly as he noticed you watching closely. "Don't worry. I'll introduce you later."

In half an hour he was putting you in a cab.

On the ride home, you went over the conversation you'd had with him after the "discovery". Chan had led you to the couch, sitting you next to him and putting a pillow in his lap. He'd asked if you were truly alright, and if you had any regrets about the previous night or joining their tour. He wanted to make sure you understood your special position - that you were to be traveling close to the group, as photographer and friend to everyone, but that friendship could involve sex - no strings attached, of course. He'd promised you that you were in no way obligated to "play" with anyone, or play rough, and that if you did, there would always be a safe word. They all knew it; it was the same one Minho gave you.

He wanted to know if you'd ever played that rough before, to which you answered that there had been some light bdsm with your most recent ex, though in truth it didn't hold a candle to what you'd experienced in idol hands. And even that didn't measure up to some of your wildest fantasies, but you left that part out. You tried to be frank and open with him, since it seemed like he was doing the same for you, but didn't think he needed to know the depth of your desires. Thankfully he didn't ask for further details, and you didn't give him any.

The main thing he wanted you to understand was that he was the leader, and his word was law. Things had to work that way, for everyone's safety, and he expected everyone - you included - to tow the line.

The cab pulled up to your building and the driver refused your $10 tip, saying, "Your boyfriend already gave me an extra $50." Ha! Boyfriend. You found your keys and made it into your apartment, feeling the exhaustion finally hit your body as you locked your door behind you. You stripped off your clothes and climbed into the shower. It seemed to take forever to wash your hair, you were so tired. You had been on edge for almost all of the past 48 hours, with little sleep. You wrapped yourself in a towel and went to the kitchen, digging around for aspirin, which you took with giant gulps of water. Wine, you thought ruefully, knowing how it dehydrated you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a knock on your door. Who's this now, you wondered, tiptoeing over and looking out the peephole. Your heart leapt a little, but you groaned. Han Jisung was waving at you with a worried smile. You'd just been able to stop thinking about him, and damn if he wasn't back.

You opened the door quickly and ushered him in before anyone else saw you in a towel. "Han, what are you doing? You can't be here!" He shook his head. "I know, I know. Dear Leader informed me that I was in trouble and to leave you alone tonight, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. He can see who we call on the phone bill, so I figured a quick cab over here was the smartest way to check in." "I'm fine, Hanji, just really tired. If Bang Chan finds out you're here..." Han cut you off by laying two fingers on your lips. "Don't even. It would be bad. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I just want to... to be honest, I really just wanted to stay with you tonight. Minho is passed out in his room and everyone else has gone back out but Chan." You didn't answer, just thinking about how much trouble it might cause.

Quickly changing the subject, he looked at you almost sheepishly. "Chan said we went overboard with you. I feel terrible. I wish you had stopped us." You looked at him quizzically. "I never said that." Han stepped closer to you and gently took the edge of the towel wrapped around you, pulling it open, and let it drop to the floor. He covered his mouth with both hands, his eyes wide. "Why does it look so much worse today??" he cried. "Bruises look worse the second day," you reassured him, picking up the towel and wrapping yourself up again. He looked dejected, and was silent for a moment, then quietly spoke. "I'm sorry."

You shook your head, putting a hand on his face and giving him a quick kiss. "There's nothing to be sorry about. You should probably go, though." He whined a little and looked at you plaintively. "Can I just sleep here with you? I promise I won't try anything, scout's honor." He held up two fingers cutely. You looked at him sternly. He sighed. "I will leave if you want me to. I don't want to get you in trouble with Chan. But... I give really good massages, and I make a mean breakfast." His bright, hopeful smile cracked your resolve. "Okay, but no massage. Just sleep. And maybe breakfast." you said simply, taking him by the hand and leading him into your bedroom.

You dropped the towel, laid down and pulled the covers over you, then watched as he quickly undressed, almost glowing in the moonlight coming through your window. You held the sheets up so he could climb in beside you, and turned on your side facing away from him. He snuggled up to you, kissing your shoulder and putting an arm around your waist. "Good night, good girl," he said softly, and with that, you were asleep.