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goatgoesmbe · 4 months ago

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tw : sexual theme, stalking, 141 being a creep

A series : part 2 of Discord shenanigans

AO3

Word count: 2031

rated: E

Poly!141 x f!reader

The New Member

The server wasn’t meant for public in the first place.

It was just something quick Johnny made just to have a little corner to hang out when they were on leave.

They rarely used it at first, finding no reason to communicate outside of work, they were busy with their own life anyway.

That was, until Johnny started sending pictures of literally anything in his daily life. It started with scenery, dogs he saw during walks, and selfies. Soon enough, Simon joined in with his own blurry pictures, then Kyle’s award-worthy photography, and John who sent the most normal pictures of some nice views worth sharing.

Eventually, interacting through the server became so regular that they started using it when they got back on base too– They never talk about something confidential in it of course, they were still professionals after all.

The gaming session was Kyle’s idea (Well, actually it was Johnny but he couldn’t convince them to play among us), they started playing various FPS games before settling for the popular one.

Kyle played casually, Johnny played competitively (and sucked at it compared to the others), John played it rarely but was pretty decent at it, while Simon was effortlessly good at it (Which he was so smug about).

The members consisted of people they knew from their jobs, so imagine their surprise when there was a notification about a new member.

You.

They welcomed you in a friendly manner, showing no suspicion despite John telling Kyle to do a background check immediately. And oh do they like what they see.

Pretty thing that you are, messy hair, pouty lips, dark bags under your eyes that only made you look more adorable rather than off-putting, like a sleepy panda. You always wore comfortable clothes oversized shirts or hoodies on colder days while your legs were bare, sitting crosslegged in your gaming chair with a big plushie in your lap. Johnny wondered if you wore anything underneath which made them go silent. made them think.

Fuck.

It was illegal and immoral, but really– everything they had ever done was all of those things and more, so what’s a bit of hacking into the webcam of a bonnie thing like you? It was done for their own safety after all, keeping their secrets as members of a highly classified military task force. It was only normal for them to check for any individuals that got into their space. Just in case.

Sure, they could just drop it when they found out that you were just a harmless civilian, but they also learned that you were just a sweet thing.. they immediately took a liking to you, adored you, so of course they had to keep an eye on you because they wanted to make sure you were alright. Keeping a civilians safe was part of their job, right?

You live alone, which made sense as to why you have CCTVs around your place. Smart girl, looking after your security seriously. Adorable.

Was it creepy for them to have access to those CCTVs? They just cared about your safety is all, was it wrong?

Well, they didn’t really care if it was, they were in too deep already, addicted to watching you in your own world, from your pretty face looking adorable as you focused on the game you were playing, the chime of your giggle when Johnny sent something stupid, to the way those innocent eyes showed no suspicion when one of them slipped up.

“Not as bonnie as you ;)” Johnny sent one time.

“You don’t even know what i look like XD”

Fortunately, you were oblivious. But still, they need to be more careful in the future. Johnny had a limp the next day and his body was covered in marks that peeked from the t-shirt he wore. But from how he barely covered them and how he still had that smirk on his face, it looked like he would definitely do it again if it would have John sending Simon to punish him.

Watching you had become a group routine. When they weren’t in the same room, they just hopped on the hidden channel Johnny made just to ping each other whenever you were doing something that would pique their interest.

Kyle enjoyed watching you go about with your routine, waking up at noon, cooking up something simple for yourself before you lock into your PC to do your freelance job then hopped into video games. His favorite was when you did your skincare, hand went down to cup the bulge in his pants as he watched you putting on lotion all over your body. His eyes darkened at the thought of him doing it instead, sliding his hand up your legs, lathering them nicely, and perhaps sneaking an opportunity for a feel of your clothed pussy when he reached your inner thighs.

Johnny likes to watch your reaction whenever you two interact, relishing your flustered expression from his relentless flirting. He wondered if you would also be shy under him, squirming as you tried to hide your face while he took off your clothes. He would click his tongue as he pried your hands off your face and gripped both of your wrists in one hand before pinning them above your head, one knee lodged between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

John’s favorite part of your day was when you were working. Tongue peeking out slightly in concentration, your doe eyes shifted and looked sharper when you were focused. He was there when you were in an online meeting with your employer, even though noone noticed. As he watched you talk, he liked to imagine that you were working for him instead. Talking formally unlike how you usually were when you were talking to them, he imagined you calling him sir like how you called your current boss. The bastard that made you uncomfortable with the way he leered at you, making innuendos while you tried your best to keep the conversation professional. You poor thing, don’t worry, John will teach him a lesson or two about respecting you. And yes, he was a hypocrite since he was lazily pumping his shaft under the desk as he watched you doing your job.

Simon rarely said anything about it, but out of everyone in the server, he was a constant presence with how the view count never went below one. He wasn’t picky, he liked watching you doing anything, even when you were just sleeping, he’d fuck his fist messily at the view of you being so vulnerable and oblivious before shooting his cum all over the screen with your face displayed on it. He was the one who would ping the others to notify them when you were doing something he knew they would be interested in.

Like right now.

It had been a long week, you barely had time to do your hobby. Projects after project that got you awake until two am before a quick wink of rest until you had to wake up again at five. When you were looking forward to doing something fun but then finding yourself too tired to even play your favorite game. And then you’d feel bad for neglecting your hobby as you continued to be enslaved under capitalism.

You were tired, sleep-deprived, stressed, and pent-up. At times like this, you were glad that you worked from home. You couldn’t imagine yourself not snapping at people if you work in an office with coworkers. Couldn’t even find the energy to open the server these past few days since you didn’t want to interact with anyone.

So naturally, they would miss you. Naturally, they were very excited when Simon pinged all of them in the hidden channel.

The light in your room was dimmed, but they could see your figure just fine. Panting on the bed on your back, legs spread wide with your hand between them while your other hand was clutching a pillow which you use to hide your face.

John growled, fingers twitching as he thought of taking it off you so he could see what kind of expression you were making. Instead, he gripped Kyle’s dick as the younger man rolled his hips with the Captain bottoming out in his ass as they were both settled on the couch.

Johnny pulled away from Simon’s cock with a lewd pop. “She could fit mair than that..” he panted before Simon shoved his dick back in the scot’s mouth, gloved hand gripping at his mohawk.

His words got them zeroed in on your cunt which was stuffed with your fingers deep to your knuckles. Wet squelching noises combined with your needy whines echoed around the rec room from the cheap speakers as the stream was displayed on the wall from the projector. Johnny was right, you could take more than that. And from the way you desperately bucked your hips as you moved your fingers that fast, they could tell that you wanted to take more either.

“Does she not have a fucking toy?” Kyle groaned as he jacked off with the same tempo as your fingers as he continued to move in John’s lap.

“No” Simon responded curtly. He would know, he was the one who always kept an eye on you more than anyone else after all.

He knew you didn’t have a partner and never brought anyone home. You rarely go out and when you do, you’ll be back soon enough. A quick trip to the grocery stores or some shops, as shown by the trackers he put in your phone. Low possibility of you seeking out to anyone. Perhaps it was odd for some people but he wasn’t complaining, because he was only willing to share you with the men he trusted his life with.

You rarely pleasure yourself either, which made a moment like this more special. At first, he expected you to whimper out someone’s name, a crush they didn’t know about perhaps. Fortunately, that never happened. You seem content with yourself like this, eyes closed as you focus on the way you curl your fingers and grind your palm against your clit.

But they could tell you wanted more. They agreed that you deserved more. They could give you more.

Your whole body tensed, a shudder rippled through your body as heat built in waves. Breath hitching as you gasped, soft at first before breaking into a moan, raw and unrestrained. Fingers clutching at your pillow, muscles tightening as pleasure peaked, your back arching instinctively.

A flush spread across your skin, a sheen of sweat caught the light. Eyes fluttered to a close, lips parted, as a final tremor coursed through your body before you melted into the afterglow, breathless and trembling.

Yet, your cunt still clenched around your fingers as you pulled them out, like it didn’t want to let them go, because you still wanted more. You whined, and they groaned at the expression on your face. Unsatisfied, but too tired to do anything about it.

After a moment of gathering your jumbled mind, you got up and headed to the bathroom for a shower. And while they knew it was impossible, they wished you had a camera there too.

As the men chased their own pleasures, they thought to themselves about how they could help. You were physically nowhere near them at the moment, and they didn’t want to scare you by being too upfront in the server. Didn’t want you to know what they had been doing behind your back.

The next day, an onslaught of sex toy ads kept popping up when you turned on your PC. It obviously pissed you off at first (especially with how one appeared when you share your screen during a work meeting), but eventually it made you consider getting one. And if you got a transfer to your bank account in the same amount you spent on it right after, if you received four dildos instead of one, they totally had nothing to do with it. Nope, they totally didn’t send you the exact copies of their cocks.

Next (soon)

A/N: I remember someone saying 'How are you gonna get a guy if you never leave your house' and this is my answer to that also, this series was supposed to be fun silly online friends story, so idk what happened here, I swear the story wrote itself I had nothing to do with it

open taglist : @partiallysame, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @sweetlike-sugarplum, @mordacioust, @boogeysmoth, @little-mini-me-world, @sxnshinebxcky, @lady-red-night-1234, @theycallmevalen, @z-wantstowrite, @c-moon20-12, @glitteryarcadefart, @purple-snowfox, @shylahstarzz, @mestrecadumaverick, @thereofrin, @crappity-craps-crap, @rottensage, @sirbonesly, @shinebright2000, @kittygonap, @savas-q1, @just-pure-trash, @sheep-from-rad, @wolfbc97, @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly, @lucienofthelakes

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 5 days ago

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So, here's the thing.

Despite the Barovia Tour Group's fairly decent acquaintance at this point - and despite the fact that we've saved each other's lives numerous times now - all of the bullshit that we deal with on a daily basis of being, you know, in Barovia has put a bit of a stopper on doing things like talking about where we're from. It just doesn't seem relevant when you're doing things like fighting werewolves and purging ghosts from old manors, you know?

So, in the midst of failing to entertain our escort to the castle in any noticeable way (Sorry ESCHER, not all of us are bards!!!!) Wyn decided to forgo any more stilted attempts to service him with new songs/stories/interesting tidbits of info from the outside world, and instead leapt upon an opening in the conversation that our wizard gave to probe him more about his history. See, she had done this once before at the beginning of the game, to the whole group, in an attempt to glean a little more information about the people she was traveling with, and the wizard in particular had been a little cagey about it. She had let it go at the time since they were all so new to each other, but after almost dying together and with a solid four hours of travel to fill, surely THIS time he would relent?

And he did! He told us about his childhood, how he grew up traveling the Sword Coast around Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep. He told us about the people that he lived among, who were merchants and performers and tinkerers and musicians and con artists, who sort of glommed together over time because traveling alone is difficult and those are the sorts of livelihoods that got more out of not sticking around in one place. He told us about how he learned how to read people, how he got comfortable with fast-talk, how he eventually developed a scheme to earn his living by doing card readings to tell people's "fortunes." He told us about how he started to get good at it. And then really good. And then unnaturally good, which eventually put him on the path to learning magic.

And then, he pulled out a box.

Now, a little background in case you haven't kept up with my increasingly unhinged updates about this campaign: our wizard Tobias is, with the greatest possible love and affection, a self-assured, flippant, dry-humored, pompous little asshole. He is outrageously confident, as flamboyant in his spellcasting as any wizard you have ever known, and his tendency to crack wise at the slightest opportunity has gotten him (and sometimes us) in plenty of trouble. Oh, he's ridiculously kind, and makes a concerted effort to help other people without even the most minute of hesitations, but MY GOD is he full of the kind of casual confidence that most people can only dream of.

So it was maybe the shock of Wyn's life to have him shyly hand her that box, and to pull it open and find that his divination instrument - the fundamental tool of his trade, the thing that has nearly single-handedly supported him through adulthood and through the horrors of Barovia so far - was a battered deck of standard issue playing cards that a teenage version of himself had scrawled, with cheap inks and the artless determination of a 13-year-old on Deviantart, into tarot cards.

This man that Wyn met when he arrogantly tried to one-up a fellow fortune-teller - who casually flaunted his magic so much that it nearly got him killed in our first encounter with the Countess, who regularly tells the rest of the party that he's the strongest/smartest/most well-equipped one among us all and only seems to be MOSTLY joking - does all of his work with a battered old playing card deck that the barely-not-a-child version of him tried valiantly to make into the "right" tool. For someone who exudes so much competence, so much confidence, how vulnerable must that have felt? How easy would it have been to just tell the tale and move on, without exposing this particular little tidbit? What did that mean, that he chose to do it now, after being allowed to duck their scrutiny before?

Eventually, when Wyn finally managed to smother the absolute blistering riptide of fondness that had torn open in her chest, she handed the cards back, offering to help paint new ones if that was something he wanted. Tobias accepted. Said that he'd really like that, actually.

Wyn's thinking that maybe she'll start with The Sun.

It's late but y'all remind me to tell you about what happened in Curse of Strahd today because on one hand we did absolutely nothing except show up to the castle for dinner.

On the other, Wyn got to learn a bunch of stuff she didn't know about her fellow travelers, including something about the wizard that made me so overcome with fondness that I had to get up and walk away from the table.

#hush frenchy #the barovia tour group #i need a curse of strahd tag #it seems so exceedingly stupid that I poured so much time into detailing this interaction when it took like. five minutes irl #but you know how sometimes a scene gets lodged in your brain and you can't help but dissect it down to the marrow? yeah #more important things absolutely happened in that session. we learned even MORE about our artificer!#but something about that fucking tarot deck...idk. idk. it got to me #also if you saw me post this earlier no you didn't LMAO #the draft automatically switching back to post...evil...

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leriexoxo · 25 days ago

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Vocal Training

Sunbae! Chan x Reader

Tags: smut 18+, corruption kink, studio sex, desperate begging, sunbae!Chan, subtextual innocence, loss of control, secret relationship, possessive Chan, aftercare, dirty talk, voice kink, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, overstimulation, begging kink, recording booth sex, Chan’s studio

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: You were supposed to just get some help with your vocals. That was it. Nothing more. Chan offered to coach you, one-on-one, in the safety of his studio—and you told yourself it didn’t mean anything. He was older. Wiser. Always calm and steady in a way you’d never learned to be. You didn’t expect the compliments, the touches, the subtle tests to see how far you’d let him go. And you definitely didn’t expect the day he finally broke you open in the booth, kissed you like you belonged to him, and made you beg to be ruined.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

A/N: This was requested by @rosequartsz, Enjoy 😉 Happy Birthday!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first time you sat on his lap, it wasn’t on purpose.

There were only two chairs in the studio that night—one behind the desk, the other pushed into a corner and buried under a pile of hoodies, empty plastic bottles, and an old guitar strap. Chan had offered you the good one, naturally, but you’d been too focused on the demo he was pulling up, the way he always hummed along even when he wasn’t trying. You leaned closer to watch his screen, one knee on the armrest, and somehow—without thinking—you just… perched.

Right there.

Right on his thigh.

He froze beneath you. Only for a second. Just long enough to make you glance down in confusion, your wide eyes meeting his.

“Oh—sorry,” you started to move, but his hand landed on your waist like it belonged there. Firm. Warm.

“It’s fine,” he said. Quiet. Almost strained.

You were too innocent to read the way his throat worked when he swallowed. Too sweet to notice the way his fingers tightened, just slightly, before he released you. You thought it was nothing—just Chan being polite. Chan being dependable. He always was.

You stayed on his lap the whole session.

—

After that, things didn’t change immediately. He still treated you like a kid. Still smiled at you like you were too soft to touch, too pure for his world of brutal hours and burn-out. You were only Jeongin’s age, barely debuted, and always apologizing for your mistakes. It was cute. Almost too cute.

But you kept coming back.

You’d text him after practice with breathless, excited questions about vocal warmups. You’d sit beside him in the cafeteria, wearing those ridiculous oversized sweaters with sleeves that swallowed your hands. You called him “Channie” like it meant something holy.

And maybe it did. Maybe that’s why it drove him fucking insane.

You didn’t notice the shift at first. You were still babbling about key changes and melody lines when he started watching your lips more than your form. Still curling up beside him on the couch when his fingers began curling into fists to keep from touching you. You didn’t see how his jaw flexed when your skirt rose mid-thigh. You didn’t hear the way his breathing changed every time you asked him to “show you how it’s done.”

And you definitely didn’t know what you were doing the night you asked him this:

“Oppa, can I ask you something kinda weird?”

He looked up from his laptop. You were in the corner of the room again, legs tucked under you, wearing a tank top and shorts you definitely didn’t own last month. His gaze dropped before he could stop it. He didn’t answer right away.

“…Go ahead,” he said.

You twirled a pencil between your fingers. Bit your bottom lip. God.

“How do you, like…” You laughed, nervous and sweet. “How do you seduce someone?”

Silence.

The kind that made the air in the room feel thicker. Heavy.

You didn’t know it, but something in him broke the moment you said it.

He closed his laptop slowly, carefully. The hum of the monitors was suddenly loud in the quiet.

“You’re joking,” he said flatly.

You giggled. “Kind of?”

But your eyes were curious. Your lips glossy from that stupid cherry balm. Your knees bare and bent toward him like you didn’t even realize what position you’d put yourself in.

“Why are you asking me that?” he asked, voice lower now. Controlled.

You shrugged. “You just… seem like you’d know.”

There it was again—that innocence, all tangled up with something so casually dangerous.

And you had no idea.

You didn’t know why you asked him that.

The words had just come out—half a joke, half something else. Something sticky and curious and reckless. You hadn’t expected him to react the way he did.

Chan stared at you for a second too long. Not in the way people did when they were thinking. Not even in the way he looked at the screen when he was editing vocals—focused and zoned out and kind of tired. No. This stare was heavy. Charged. Like he was seeing something he shouldn’t.

Like he was trying to decide what to do with it.

He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

“You shouldn’t ask questions like that,” he said, almost under his breath.

Your stomach flipped. You weren’t sure why.

You tried to laugh it off. “Come on, I’m just curious.”

He didn’t smile.

“I’m not the person you should be asking.”

“Why not?” You tilted your head. You knew you were pushing. Maybe that was the point. Maybe you wanted to know how far you could go. “You’ve probably had, like, tons of experience, right?”

His eyes closed for a moment. Just a blink, but slower. Like he was exhausted all of a sudden.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

You shifted where you sat on the little couch, trying to lighten the mood. “So that’s a yes?”

Chan exhaled—sharp and short, more of a sound than a breath. Then he stood up.

For a second, you thought he was going to leave. That you’d actually annoyed him. But instead, he crossed the room and stopped right in front of you, arms crossed loosely over his chest, head tilted down.

“You think seducing someone is a game?”

The words came out so quiet. So smooth. It made your skin tingle.

You blinked up at him. “N-No?”

“You think it’s just… lip gloss and eye contact and giggling like that?”

“I wasn’t—” You stopped. Realized you were giggling. Shit.

Chan’s mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smirk. Or a growl. You couldn’t tell.

He crouched down, suddenly eye-level, forearms resting on his knees. He looked at you like he was studying something—like he was figuring out whether you were real or some kind of trick.

“You want to learn how to seduce someone?” he asked, lower now. Softer.

You nodded. Barely.

He leaned in a little more. You could feel the heat of him, smell that clean, rosy scent he always carried—like skin and sweat and cologne that cost more than your rent.

“Then here’s your first lesson,” he murmured. “You don’t go asking men like me to teach you.”

You swallowed. Your throat felt dry.

“Why not?”

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips. Then your knees.

Then back up.

“Because,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “I’d stop teaching real fast.”

You stared at him. Words failed you.

He rose to his full height and stepped back, rubbing a hand over his neck like he was trying to shake something off.

“I’m gonna get some water,” he said, almost too casually. “You should go home soon. It’s getting late.”

And just like that, the moment cracked.

But it didn’t vanish.

It lingered—thick in the air, hot in your chest, humming between your thighs.

You watched the studio door close behind him. Your heart was pounding. Your hands trembled as you picked up your phone, pretending to scroll.

You weren’t sure what had just happened.

But you wanted to do it again.

—-

Chan didn’t text you for three days.

Which wouldn’t normally mean anything—he was always busy, running on fumes and three hours of sleep—but this time it felt different. You’d grown used to the casual replies, the quick “want to practice tonight?” or “you eating?” texts that came with no warning but always made you feel strangely warm.

Now, nothing.

No emoji-laced messages. No late-night memes. Not even a reaction to the video you posted of your new vocal practice.

It bothered you more than you wanted to admit.

When you finally saw him at the company building, he looked—fine. Tired, maybe. Sweaty from practice. But when you waved, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, you.” He said it softly, but his eyes flicked behind you—checking if anyone else was around.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked.

His brows drew together. “No. Why would I be mad?”

You fidgeted with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “You’ve been kind of… distant.”

Chan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not you. I just… think we should cool it with the late-night practices for a bit.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Oh.”

“Not forever,” he added quickly, voice a little too gentle. “You’ve been doing great. You’re killing it. I just think you don’t need me hovering all the time anymore.”

You stared at him. That wasn’t what this was about, and you both knew it.

“Is this about what I said?” you asked, a little quieter.

He didn’t answer.

You took a breath. “Because I was kidding, Channie. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

His jaw tensed at that.

“You didn’t make anything weird,” he said. “I did.”

That stung.

He noticed.

“I just think it’s better if we keep some distance. You’re… pure. You’re new to all this. And I don’t want to mess that up for you.”

You didn’t know what to say. There was something in his voice—something tight and controlled, like he was clenching a muscle too hard.

He smiled again. Gentle. Fake.

“I’ll still help with your vocals. Just… not at night, okay?”

You nodded, but your chest felt cold.

And your curiosity?

Burned hotter than ever.

—

It took another week before you went back to the studio.

You told yourself it was innocent. You just wanted his input on your new harmony lines. It wasn’t about that moment. It wasn’t about the way he looked at you, or how your skin still tingled when you remembered the sound of his voice dropping low beside your ear.

You knocked on the studio door anyway, heart racing.

He was sitting at the desk, hoodie loose around his shoulders, hair pushed back with a headband. When he looked up and saw you, something flickered across his face.

You couldn’t tell if it was dread or desire.

“I thought we agreed—”

“I brought coffee,” you cut in quickly, holding up the bag with a small smile. “And I need your help.”

He stared at you for a second. Then sighed.

“Come in.”

You set the drinks down beside him and slid into the chair, pretending not to notice the way his hand twitched when your knees brushed. You opened your notebook, flipping through pages.

“I wrote a new verse,” you said. “I think it could use some warmth. Like that thing you always say about emotional resonance?”

He nodded slowly. Said nothing.

You pressed play on your recording, humming along softly with the playback. He listened in silence.

When it ended, you looked at him.

“Well?”

His eyes were already on you.

“You’re improving.”

“Only improving?”

He hesitated. “You sound… honest. A little more raw. Like you felt it.”

You bit your lip—just enough to get his attention. “Maybe I was thinking about you.”

You meant it as a joke. Almost.

He didn’t take it that way.

“Don’t.”

The word hit the air hard and fast. You blinked.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t flirt with me.”

The room went quiet. Your pulse jumped.

“I’m not,” you said—too soft, too fast.

Chan stood up suddenly, pushing back from the desk. He walked to the corner of the studio, then stopped with his back to you.

“You don’t understand,” he said quietly. “You think you’re playing a game. You think it’s harmless.”

You stood, too. “What if I do understand?”

He turned slowly. His eyes met yours—and they weren’t soft anymore.

“Then you should leave.”

Your heart kicked against your ribs. But you didn’t move.

You stepped forward instead.

“Channie,” you whispered. “What would happen if I didn’t?”

His hands clenched at his sides. His throat bobbed.

Then, finally, voice low and dangerous, he answered:

“Then I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

You didn’t flinch when he said it.

You didn’t back away. Didn’t apologize. Didn’t break the eye contact, even when the air between you got heavy with something thicker than silence.

So when Chan stepped toward you—slow, measured, eyes locked to yours—you didn’t move. Not even when the space between you vanished.

He was so close now you could see the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. The outline of every thought he wasn’t saying etched across his face.

You’d never seen him like this. Not guarded. Not careful.

Just… watching.

He reached out—slowly—and his fingers grazed your cheek. Not a full touch. Just enough to test.

You exhaled—too sharp.

“You want to play grown-up, huh?” he murmured, thumb brushing along your jaw. “Want to act like you know what you’re doing?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. He didn’t wait for an answer.

“Let’s see, then.”

He stepped around you. Close enough that his chest brushed your back as he circled behind you. His voice was still low, soft enough that it felt like it sank straight into your skin.

“If you really understood what you were asking for,” he said, “you’d be nervous right now.”

“I am nervous,” you whispered.

“Not nervous enough.”

His fingers slid down your arms—not quite holding you, just ghosting. Just enough to make your breath catch.

“You’ve got no idea what it means to really seduce someone. You think it’s about looking pretty and biting your lip.” He leaned in, his breath warm on your neck. “But it’s not.”

He let the silence stretch, thick and pulsing.

“You wanna know what seduction is?” he whispered.

You nodded.

“Then let me show you something.”

He moved in front of you again—close enough that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the heat radiating off his body. His eyes searched yours for a long moment.

Then he reached for your hand.

Gently. Carefully. Like you might pull away.

You didn’t.

He brought it up—slowly—and pressed it against his chest, right over his heartbeat. His skin burned through the fabric of his hoodie.

“You feel that?” he said. “That’s what you’re doing to me without even trying.”

You swallowed, lips parting.

His hand stayed over yours, holding it in place. “Now imagine what would happen if I stopped trying, too.”

Your pulse jumped.

“I’m giving you one chance,” he said. “Tell me to stop. Say it, and we go back to normal. You walk out that door, and I forget this ever happened.”

He held your gaze.

“But if you don’t…”

You couldn’t breathe.

“If you don’t say it…” His voice dropped an octave. “Then I’m going to keep showing you. Until you’re not just pretending anymore.”

His hand on yours tightened just enough to ground you. Just enough to make you dizzy.

You didn’t say anything.

And you didn’t move.

The corner of his mouth twitched—just slightly.

“…That’s what I thought.”

His fingers slid from your hand to your wrist—holding you there like a question. Not forcing. Not demanding. Just… waiting.

Waiting to see if you’d flinch.

You didn’t.

Chan’s thumb brushed against your inner wrist, dragging slowly across the pulse point.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

You were.

Not from fear. From anticipation.

He leaned in—closer than before—and tilted his head, speaking softly into your ear.

“I’m not going to forget this, you know.”

His voice. God, his voice. It wasn’t just deep—it was intimate. Thick. Low and smooth like it was meant to curl around your spine and melt into your skin.

“I don’t want you to,” you breathed.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. You couldn’t read the expression in his eyes—like he was still deciding whether this was wrong or just dangerous.

Then he cupped your cheek—so gently—and ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Open.”

Your lips parted instinctively.

His thumb dragged down, slow and deliberate, wetting itself along the inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He watched you, eyes fixed on the way your lips stayed open just a beat too long.

“Good,” he murmured. “You’re listening.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Your whole body buzzed like it had been rewired.

He stepped in closer again, crowding you slightly, like he needed your attention narrowed down to only him.

“Lesson one,” he said, voice low. “Seduction isn’t about what you show. It’s about what you hold back.”

His fingers brushed down your arm again. Slower this time. His palm settled lightly on your waist—just warm contact, nothing filthy yet, and it still made your breath stutter.

“You don’t give it all away at once,” he continued, “You let them wonder. You make them want.”

His hand slid from your waist to your hip.

“And you never…” his fingers dipped just slightly lower, “…ever touch first unless you’re ready to be touched back.”

You froze.

But you didn’t pull away.

Chan’s gaze dragged down your face—lingering on your lips, your neck, the flushed skin rising above your shirt.

“Can I?” he asked.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Yes.”

His hands found your thighs—warm, steady—and he tugged you gently toward the studio couch behind you until the backs of your knees hit the edge. You sat without thinking.

He stayed standing, eyes dragging over you like he was seeing you for the first time. Then, slowly, he dropped to his knees.

Knees.

Chan knelt in front of you.

His hands settled on your knees, thumbs stroking soft circles there. Not pushing them apart. Not yet. Just resting. Just waiting.

“You want me to touch you?” he asked, voice almost too soft to hear. “Tell me.”

You hesitated—but not because you didn’t want it.

Because you’d never said anything like this out loud before.

“I want you to touch me.”

“Where?”

Your face burned.

He leaned in again, whispering against the inside of your thigh. “Use your words.”

You swallowed hard. “Between my legs.”

His hands inched upward, fingertips skimming over your skin, dragging the hem of your shorts with them.

“Say it,” he murmured.

You closed your eyes. “Touch me between my legs, Channie.”

He hummed—a low, satisfied sound that made your core throb.

Then finally—finally—he pressed the heel of his palm right where you needed it.

You gasped. Your thighs twitched under his hands.

He looked up at you, eyes dark. “That’s the reaction I want. Not just pretty words. Not just teasing.”

He started rubbing slow circles, firm and steady, watching your every twitch and moan like he was studying you.

“Lesson two,” he said, voice thick now. “You learn more from pressure than from touch.”

Your breath hitched.

“Feel that?” His fingers pressed just a little harder. “That’s what it feels like when someone really wants you.”

You whimpered, unable to hide it.

“And I haven’t even taken your clothes off yet.”

Chan worked you open slowly—still on his knees, still fully clothed—like he had all the time in the world and wanted to feel every second of your unraveling.

His hand moved in firm, perfect circles, pressing between your legs over the thin fabric of your shorts. You were soaked already, thighs shaking, fingers digging into the edge of the couch.

“I haven’t even gotten under yet,” he murmured, eyes on your flushed face. “That alone making you this wet?”

You nodded helplessly.

He gave a dark chuckle—like he’d known, but needed to hear it.

Then he slid his fingers under the waistband, dipping past your panties.

The first proper touch was a shock—direct, confident, nothing shy about the way he parted you with two fingers and found your clit immediately. You gasped, body jerking, and he grinned against your thigh like he’d been waiting for that sound.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “So warm.”

His fingers kept moving—teasing, exploring, pressing just right—and the tension built so fast it scared you.

“I—Chan—” you gasped. “Wait, I think I—”

“Let it happen.”

You shook your head, breath ragged. “I’ve never—no one’s ever made me—”

His eyes locked on yours, sharp with something wicked.

“You’ve never come before?”

You shook your head, lips trembling.

His whole expression shifted—like something inside him snapped loose.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “No wonder you keep looking at me like that.”

His fingers changed pace—less teasing now, more deliberate. Faster. Filthier. You cried out, hand flying to his wrist, but he didn’t stop.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered.

You tried. God, you tried.

Your legs trembled, muscles seizing, mouth falling open as everything in you tightened to a breaking point—and then—

You shattered.

Silently at first. Then with a choked moan as your first real orgasm hit you like a fucking freight train. It was overwhelming. Too much.

Chan didn’t stop right away. He slowed down, coaxing you through it with soft circles, his free hand bracing your thigh to hold you open while you writhed under his touch.

When you finally slumped forward, trembling and breathless, he kissed the inside of your knee.

You were still dazed when he stood, wiping his fingers with a tissue before reaching down and hooking both hands under your thighs.

“Wait—what—?”

“I’m not done,” he said, lifting you clean off the couch.

He lifted you so easily it felt unreal—like your body didn’t weigh anything in his arms. Your breath caught as he crossed the room with you, eyes dark, mouth set in something determined and dangerous.

The door to the recording booth clicked open. He carried you in and kicked it closed behind him with a heavy thud.

Then he turned, leaned you against the padded wall, and just… looked at you.

You were still shaking.

From the orgasm he’d pulled out of you minutes ago. From the way his hands never stopped roaming. From the look in his eyes now, like he wasn’t sure whether to worship you or break you.

“Do you have any idea how sweet you feel?” he asked, voice rough, lips brushing your ear.

You swallowed hard. “Chan…”

He pulled back to look at you, and the heat in his gaze made your knees weak.

“I’m trying to be patient,” he said. “But watching you fall apart like that…”

He dipped his head to your neck. Kissed it. Bit it, just enough to sting.

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

You blinked up at him—flushed, dazed, aching.

“I—” You bit your lip. “I want you…”

He tilted his head. “Want me how?”

Your face burned.

“I want you to—” You hesitated, thighs pressing together. “To fuck me.”

His mouth twitched into a dark smile. “Say please?”

You flushed deeper. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Channie,” you breathed, voice trembling. “Please fuck me. I want you inside me. I want to feel it. I want to feel you.”

He exhaled through his nose, slow and sharp, and you felt the shift in him—like the last thread of restraint had finally snapped.

“Good girl.”

He set you down only to spin you around, pressing you face-first against the booth wall. You gasped at the cold surface, hands bracing yourself as he yanked your shorts and panties down your thighs in one smooth motion.

Then he dropped to his knees behind you.

You felt his breath first. Hot against your bare, soaked heat. Then his mouth.

You cried out when his tongue dragged over your folds—wet, eager, messy. He groaned low in his throat, hands gripping your ass, spreading you open wider so he could fuck you with his tongue until your legs buckled.

“Still so fucking tight,” he muttered between licks. “So perfect.”

“Chan—please—” Your voice cracked. “I need it, I need it—”

He stood behind you again, and you heard the rustle of his jeans, the soft slap of skin as he stroked himself.

You turned your head, panting. “I want it. I want you. I can take it, please—”

“You better hold on,” he said, voice dark. “Because I’m not stopping once I start.”

You nodded, desperate.

Then he lined up—and slid in.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t cruel. It was perfect.

Thick, deep, stretching you so full so fast your knees almost gave out. You choked on a gasp, both hands flying to the padded wall, trying to steady yourself as he bottomed out with a low growl.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel that?”

You whimpered, back arching. “Yes—fuck, yes—”

He pulled back and slammed into you again—harder this time—and your moan echoed off the walls.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” he said through gritted teeth. “Walking around all innocent. Pretending you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” you sobbed.

“Bullshit.”

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you—slow, deep thrusts that dragged along every nerve ending you had. He filled you so completely you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only feel.

“I should’ve made you beg earlier,” he groaned. “The way you sound when you’re desperate? Fucking unreal.”

You clenched around him—tight, pulsing—and he hissed, slamming into you harder.

“Say it again.”

“Please,” you cried. “Please, Chan, don’t stop—don’t ever stop—”

“That’s it,” he grunted. “Let me ruin you.”

And he did.

He fucked you deep and filthy, hips slamming into the backs of your thighs, hands everywhere—your waist, your hair, your throat. His mouth found your shoulder, biting down as you started to come again, your body seizing around him like it couldn’t stand the pleasure anymore.

“Fuck, that’s it, come for me—so fucking tight—shit—”

You screamed into the wall as you shattered around him, sobbing his name, body shaking like it couldn’t hold the heat anymore.

And he followed—hard.

He buried himself to the hilt and groaned deep in your ear as he came inside you, thick and hot, his hips jerking with every pulse.

You collapsed against the booth wall, legs trembling, breath ragged.

Chan stayed there for a moment, forehead resting against the back of your neck, both of you panting.

Then he pulled out slowly—gently—and turned you around to catch you before you fell.

His arms wrapped around you.

And for a long, quiet second, he just held you. Pressed his lips to your forehead. Let your heart slow against his.

“You’re never gonna look at this booth the same way again,” he whispered.

Your legs were jelly. Your mind was somewhere far away. Every inch of your body throbbed with the echo of what just happened.

Chan held you up effortlessly, arms wrapped around you like he didn’t trust your knees to hold. He kissed your temple, slow and warm, and whispered, “I’ve got you.”

He reached behind you, tugging his shirt off in one fluid motion, then gently helped you step out of your rumpled clothes. When he slid his shirt over your head, you leaned into his chest, still trying to catch your breath, the scent of him wrapping around you like another blanket.

“Too much?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, cheek pressed against his skin. “No. Just… never felt like that before.”

He hummed, proud and gentle all at once. “Good. You shouldn’t have to settle for anything less than that.”

He helped you sit on the little bench in the corner of the booth, kneeling in front of you like earlier—except now he wasn’t teasing. He was checking. Fixing you.

You watched him silently as he used a soft wipe to clean you between the legs, careful and slow even though you winced from the tenderness. His brows furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

You shook your head again. “You took care of me.”

He glanced up at that. Smiled softly. “Yeah. I’ll always do that.”

You believed him.

He stood and tugged his pants up, then crouched to help you dress again too—every zipper, every button, like it was part of some sacred ritual.

After you were both dressed again, he pulled you into his lap, back against the booth wall, arms wrapped tight around you. His chin rested on your shoulder.

For a while, you just sat there. Let the silence hold you.

“Are you gonna regret this?” you asked eventually, voice barely above a whisper.

His answer came instantly. “No.”

You turned your head to look at him, heart pounding.

“I should,” he added, brushing his nose against your cheek. “But I don’t. Not even a little.”

You bit your lip. “So what now?”

He gave a crooked little smile. “Now,” he said, “we’re going to pretend nothing happened.”

You blinked.

“In front of the others,” he clarified, brushing a thumb across your lower lip. “In public. Around Jeongin. Especially around Jeongin.”

Your laugh came out small and breathy. “And in private?”

“In private,” he murmured, voice dipping low, “I’ll keep teaching you.”

You shivered.

He kissed your jaw, soft and slow. “You’ll keep begging.”

Another kiss. “And I’ll keep wrecking you.”

You moaned quietly, already aching again.

“But for now,” he said, tightening his arms around you, “you’re gonna let me hold you.”

You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into his chest.

Outside the booth, the studio lights hummed. Somewhere in the distance, a phone buzzed. But in here—in Chan’s arms—it felt like time had stopped. Like something real had started.

Maybe it was the beginning of a mistake.

Maybe it was the best secret you’d ever keep.

But for now, it was just the two of you.

And neither of you planned to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: Hi guys! Sorry I disappeared for a few days, a lot was happening irl but i am back though! I want to expand the “unknown number” fic into an ot8 series (if you haven’t read it yet then check my masterlist under bang chan) please let me know what you think, its gonna be the same concept but random af story lines 🤭

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8

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angelfishe · 6 months ago

Text

𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ( 𝐇𝐒𝐑 )

>> hsr men x reader

Character : Dr ratio, Gallagher, Sunday, aventurine, argenti, blade, Dan heng, Mr reca, Jing yuan, gepard, luocha, welt and boothill.

May contain NSFW content

⚠️ Minors do not interact please ⚠️

Edit 1 : due to some grammar error I make, I change some of the words for my mistake

Dr ratio switch in my heart, there's always two outcomes when it comes into smashing, one of you guys are gonna lose and drain while the other one basks in light and happiness, and after smashing he will return back into his studies or he will teach you about his new theories while you just lay their exhausted. Or the other outcome where you win, his face would be covered in red and you would occasionally tease him while he muffled a shut up with his exhausted voice.

Gallagher immediately made your favorite drink for you after the deed was done, and sometimes when the bar is empty and no one would be seen. You and him would sneak into the back to have your break time together. He would compliment how amazing you were and how he wants to do it again but both of you have shifts in the bar so you guys have to continue it later on.

Sunday would be a blushing mess, even before him joining the astral express he would have some knowledge about intercourse but have never experienced it, but when you came along you have open his eyes into a new world of pleasure, during a session you would occasionally kiss the piercing on his wings and that would cause him to blush and cover his with his wings. And right now he's very much wishes to learn more about this new world.

Aventurine, very much love to tease you. He would put unnecessary bets so you and him would do it, every time he wins a game he would say you are his grand price after a big game. He would be smirking the entire time after finishing. Originally I like the idea of him actually being nervous of initiating intimacy due to his past but you made him feel secure and complete he completely learned how to open up. And when you kiss his mark he would immediately ingulp you in a big hug seeking your comfort.

Argenti, would praise you non stop about how beautiful you were and everything about you. He would start to worship you similar to how he worships idrila one time during a climax, he thought he saw the light and fully convinced you were the reincarnation of idrila. The bed would be covered with rose petals and both of you are lying there, he with a satisfied smile while you with a tired look .

Blade, he pretty much doesn't know how to initiate aftercare with you but he tried his best. He would wipe you with a warm cloth around your body making sure you're comfortable in any position although cannot say the same thing about your body after being twisted and moved into different positions during the entire duration of the time. He would also bring your favorite food. Pretty much sure he can go for more than another round but doesn't want to exhaust you. Even worse when his mara struck is awake you won't be walking anytime soon.

Dan heng, would brew tea for both of you making sure you are comfortable. Making sure your comfortable and warm by using the pillows of the astral express and when he's in heat you and him would stay in his room for a week with food being delivered into your rooms the best part of the archives that it sound proof making sure no one knows your business and during intimacy he would let his vividyahara self out because his comfortable with you in his true form.

Mr reca would praise you about your performance and immediately start clapping after the deed was done. Would make love scenes inspired by you guys or record to watch over and over again. He said it's a masterpiece on how both of you guys move in sync as well how angelic your voice is. Would write about a Script describing how perfect you were during intimacy. As well as talking about his new movie ideas with you during finishing or aftercare.

Jing yuan, would immediately fall asleep and give you a death grip hug. His hair is disheveled and sleep with a satisfied look as if he just finish having the best time in his and when you wake up he would be admiring you as if he had been admiring you for hours and if there's ever work the day after, he would arrive a little late due not wanting to leave you or would go to work not without leaving a note and a goodbye kiss on your fore head there's food and tea ready for you to wake up. He's very clingy post intimacy.

Gepard, a blushing mess, even tho his the captain of the silver man guards he is a total puppy in the sheets very much and you treat him with so much love and caress his body with so much love he would explode any second if not, would be very red in the face and shy. He so cute, he would not initiate intimacy in public but you would usually visit him to drop his lunch and it will always end up him a blushing mess and tired.

Luocha, a Disney princess, his hair spread along the sheets with his hand over his head and breathing heavily. Even in this state he would still be very beautiful like a flower, would initiate after care by healing your bruises if he ever went overboard. Would bring you hot water for your throat after being exhausted and stretched. Would leave kisses around your body.

Welt, this old man. Very clingy after intimacy would hug you 24/7 as well sometimes being awkward sense he doesn't know how to react. He would be very disheveled after intimacy and would initiate cuddling. He doesn't want to let you go after you guys came together this is perfect for him. A perfect scenario and perfect dream.

Boothill, right back at ya partner, you guys know the song saves a horse ride a cow boy well that's him. Every time if he wants Intimacy he would put his cowboy hat on your head and that's to give you the idea of what he wants. You are his reward and sun for him. After intimacy his hard drive would be overstimulated and you would be wearing his cowboy hat.

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luckystay · 7 months ago

Text

𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣

words count: 7k

Relationships: bsf!bangchan x fem!reader x bsf!hyunjin

Synopsis: after years of friendship, you're shocked to learn your best friends aren’t gay, and are in-fact attracted to you.

Warnings: smut with plot, mutual pining, threesome (mfm), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), heavy sexual tension, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light manhandling, praise kink, mild jealousy, mentions of insecurity, alcohol consumption, and swearing.

(Minors, please do not interact!)

A/N: again did not proofread, also i'm having so many issues writing smut any advice can help.

Chan was the first person I spoke to on my first day at university. I still remember the way he approached me—this energetic, smiling guy who exuded confidence, a kind of confidence I couldn’t even imagine having.

At first, I thought maybe he was just being polite, trying to make the nervous girl feel more at ease. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t the case. Chan wasn’t just friendly—he had this way about him that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. It wasn’t something he tried to do; it just came naturally. We clicked immediately, and by the end of our conversation, I found myself laughing at his jokes, sharing stories, and feeling a sense of comfort I hadn’t expected.

After that, I didn’t really have to make any more friends. Chan took care of it. He introduced me to his friends, and just like that, I found myself a part of a whole new group. Felix, with his sweet nature and infectious laugh, Jisung, who always seemed to know how to make me laugh no matter how exhausted I was, and then there was chan’s roommate Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was different. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated at first. He was... well, he was hot—too hot, actually. Tall, effortlessly cool, with an air of quiet intensity that seemed to draw people in. Honestly, I thought he was out of my league. Every time I tried to talk to him, I’d stumble over my words, my face flushing under his steady gaze. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious whenever he was around, like his confidence only highlighted how awkward I felt.

But all that changed when I started spending more time with them. Chan, being my main friend, and Hyunjin, being his roommate, meant I was bound to be around him a lot.

To my surprise, I started to see a different side of Hyunjin. The intimidating vibe? It wasn’t really who he was. He had a sense of humor—quirky, odd even, but adorable. Once he felt comfortable around me, he let his guard down, and I found myself enjoying his company more and more. He wasn’t the aloof, untouchable guy I’d once thought he was. He was just Hyunjin—relatable, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

All throughout university their dorm room became my unofficial home. i’d spend hours there—study sessions that turned into late-night talks, long gaming marathons, and movie nights that always ended with one of us falling asleep in some awkward position on the couch.

We became this inseparable trio. We went through heartbreaks together, laughed over drunk nights, celebrated wins, and comforted each other through the lows

Slowly but surely, my feelings for Hyunjin evolved. He wasn’t some crush anymore—he was my best friend. Over time, I stopped thinking about him in that way entirely.

I knew both Hyunjin and Chan were hooking up with people now and then, but we had this unspoken rule in our friendship: unless it was serious, we didn’t talk about it. That part of our lives stayed private, and I was okay with that. It wasn’t something we needed to discuss, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Eventually, though, I settled on an assumption that made everything easier. The way Hyunjin and Chan were with each other, so effortlessly close and affectionate—it just made sense. They had to be gay, right? That explained the mystery, the privacy, everything. And honestly, it was fine with me. I wasn’t interested in either of them like that, and they didn’t seem interested in me. Our bond worked perfectly the way it was.

Or so I thought.

Now fresh out of uni, we found ourselves navigating adulthood together. Jobs, bills, responsibilities—it was a new world, but at least we had each other. Moving in together felt like a natural extension of our bond. Splitting rent made financial sense, but beyond that, we weren’t ready to let go of the dynamic we’d built.

The house wasn’t huge, but it had just enough space for the three of us to feel at home. It was chaotic at times, sure—Hyunjin’s half-finished art projects scattered across the living room, Chan’s endless work-from-home setup that seemed to expand every week, and my collection of books and mismatched mugs taking over the kitchen. But it worked. It always did with us.

living together now was... different. They weren’t just my friends anymore; they were men. And men like Chan and Hyunjin? They were impossible to ignore.

Physically, the changes were obvious. Chan’s broad shoulders and steady presence commanded a room effortlessly, while Hyunjin’s sharp jawline and lean, athletic build seemed designed to draw attention. They moved with purpose now, their every gesture confident and deliberate. But it wasn’t just how they looked—it was how they treated me.

In university, we were a chaotic trio, all equals in the chaos of growing up. But now? Now, they treated me like I was something precious.

Chan, always the dependable one, had become a protector in ways that felt heavier, more deliberate. He’d steady me with a hand on my lower back when we crossed busy streets, or hold open doors without a second thought. When we walked home late at night, he’d position himself closest to the curb, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure I was okay.

Hyunjin, for all his teasing, had a subtle gentleness that made my breath hitch. He’d help me carry groceries without being asked, his hand brushing against mine as he took the heavier bags. When I complained about how sore my shoulders were after work, he didn’t hesitate—just walked up behind me, warm hands massaging out the tension.

their touches were what really undid me.

It wasn’t like before, when their hands would land on my shoulder or ruffle my hair in passing. Now, every touch lingered. Chan’s hand on my waist as he guided me through a crowded room felt possessive in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Hyunjin’s fingers brushing a stray hair out of my face felt more intimate than it should have been.

And it wasn’t just the touches—it was how easily they did it, how natural it seemed for them to manhandle me in small ways. Chan would reach over me without warning, his chest brushing my back as he grabbed something off the top shelf. Hyunjin would wrap an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer on the couch as he teased me about some show we were watching.

It was maddening. I’d tell myself it didn’t mean anything, that we were just friends. But the truth was; having two ridiculously attractive men treating me like this? Protecting me, touching me, looking at me the way they did? It was impossible to ignore the heat that simmered beneath the surface.

And the worst part? They didn’t even seem to notice what they were doing to me. To them, it was all so casual, so natural. But to me, it was intoxicating. Every brush of their hands, every low chuckle, every whispered “you okay?” left me more confused and yearning than ever.

Tonight, I’d slipped into a cream-colored sweater, paired with a black mini skirt that showed off a teasing amount of leg. It wasn’t like I’d dressed up for any particular reason; Felix and Jisung were coming over for dinner, and I wanted to look nice. Simple as that.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

The kitchen was filled with the rich scent of garlic, onions, and herbs. hyunjin stirring something on the stove. His broad shoulders filled out the fitted black shirt he was wearing, and the veins in his forearms flexed as he moved the spoon in lazy circles. When I entered, the sound of my footsteps seemed to grab his attention. His eyes flicked up, scanning me from head to toe before settling on my face. It was quick, but it wasn’t subtle. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped, the look lingering just a moment too long on my legs before lifting back up. His lips curled into a smirk, just a little, and I felt my heart race.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too casual.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I shrugged. “It’s just dinner.”

I crossed the space between us, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His broad frame cast a shadow over me, and I instinctively tilted my head back to look up at him. He was taller than I remembered—taller, broader. The way his body seemed to fill the space made it hard to breathe for a moment.

“Thought I’d see if you needed help,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice was a little shakier than I wanted. I knew I had no idea how to cook, but standing this close to him made my mind scramble for anything to say.

“Help?” he repeated, his smirk deepening, his voice almost teasing. “You don’t even know where we keep the knives.”

“Not the point,” I shot back, hoping my words sounded more confident than I felt. My hands were already a little clammy, and my stomach twisted in knots.

Before I could say anything else, I felt a warmth at my back, and the unmistakable presence of Chan, who had entered quietly. His hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, his fingers just barely grazing my skin, and I froze.

Chan was wearing his usual jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest in ways that made it hard to look away.

“Stealing her already?” Chan’s voice was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something I couldn’t quite place. His fingers lingered for a second longer, just enough to make me painfully aware of how close he was. I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

“Wasn’t stealing,” Hyunjin responded, still holding my gaze, his voice casual but there was that underlying heat again, like he knew exactly what was going on. “She just knows I’m the best cook.”

I shifted slightly, crossing my legs without thinking, trying to hide the sudden flutter of heat I felt coursing through me. Chan’s hand didn’t leave my back, his touch light but somehow heavy all at once. I tried to focus on the conversation, on the joke they were making, but it felt almost impossible. The tension in the room was thick, and it felt like both of them were acutely aware of how close we were, of the way my body responded to them.

“Don’t steal her for yourself just yet,” Chan teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “We still need her to taste-test.”

I managed to force out a laugh, but it felt weak compared to the way my body was reacting to their proximity. The casual banter, the touches, the way their eyes lingered—everything felt too intimate. It was as if the friendship we’d built over the years was beginning to blur, and I didn’t know how to pull away from it.

This is not how friends should feel towards each other right?

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as always, you were seated between Hyunjin and Felix, with Chan directly across from you, you couldn’t escape the charged atmosphere no matter how hard you tried.

The first real jolt came when you reached across the table for the salt shaker. It had been sitting just out of reach, and without thinking, you leaned forward to grab it. Before you could touch it, two hands moved toward it simultaneously—Chan’s from across the table, and Hyunjin’s from beside you.

Hyunjin’s arm brushed your shoulder as he leaned over, the scent of his cologne filling the space between you. He reached it first, but the motion brought him close—too close. You were painfully aware of the way his body crowded yours, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the table for a moment.

“Got it,” Hyunjin said softly, his voice carrying an almost teasing edge as he passed the shaker to you. His fingers lingered just a second too long against yours, and when you looked up, you were met with his dark, unreadable gaze.

Chan cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You glanced across the table to see him watching the exchange with an expression that was... difficult to place. There was no annoyance there, just something thoughtful, like he was curious.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly adjusting in your seat and trying to shake the warmth creeping up your neck.

As the meal continued, the little moments piled on. Hyunjin’s knee brushing yours under the table, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair when he leaned over to speak to Felix. Chan’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, each time you glanced up from your plate. Even Felix, with his sweet, innocent charm, seemed to sense the tension in the air, his eyes darting between the three of you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Finally, Felix leaned in closer, nudging your shoulder gently. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Do you still have that cream? The one for sore muscles? My neck’s been killing me.”

The request caught you off guard, but you nodded quickly, grateful for an excuse to escape. “Yeah, I think it’s in my room. Come on, I’ll grab it for you.”

You pushed your chair back, standing up and smoothing your skirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way Chan’s gaze followed you, lingering just a beat too long. Hyunjin’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to read something in your movements.

The moment you stepped into your room and closed the door, Felix turned to you with an expression you didn’t entirely expect. His usual warm smile was replaced with something sharper, something knowing.

“Alright,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Spill.”

You frowned, genuinely confused. “Spill what?”

Felix arched a brow, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. “Don’t play dumb. What’s going on with you three?”

Your stomach flipped, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “Nothing’s going on. What are you even talking about?”

Felix’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of gentle concern. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” you asked, pulling open a drawer to search for the cream.

Felix sighed, stepping closer. “The way they look at you. The way they act around you. It’s like... it’s so obvious. I don’t know how you’re so clueless.”

You froze, your hand hovering over the drawer’s contents. “Felix, they’re… you know. They’re gay.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Felix let out a low, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer. “you’re so far off.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to face him fully. “What do you mean? They’re gay. I’ve known them for years, Lix. They’ve never once mentioned being into girls. Not once. And the way they are with each other…” You trailed off, your voice losing conviction under Felix’s knowing stare.

“They’re not gay,” Felix said gently, his tone almost pitying. “Bisexual? Yeah, sure. But gay? Not even close.”

The words felt like they didn’t compute, like Felix had just told you the sky was green. “No way,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not,” Felix said, his voice soft but firm. “Look, I’ve known them longer than you have. And trust me, if you paid even a little attention, you’d notice the way they look at you.”

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, your chest tightening. “They don’t look at me any differently than they look at anyone else.”

Felix’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? They’re constantly looking at you like you hung the moon. Hyunjin can’t go two seconds without finding some excuse to touch you, and Chan? The way he watches you when you’re not looking? It’s... intense.”

You felt heat rush to your face, your heart racing as you tried to process what he was saying. “That’s just how they are. They’re affectionate guys. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Felix tilted his head, giving you a look that was both skeptical and amused. “Affectionate, sure. But this? This is different you cant convince me otherwise. I’m not saying they’re in love with you or anything—” he paused, reconsidering. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to sit down on the edge of your bed. “Felix, this is insane. They’ve never said anything. Never even hinted at anything.”

Felix sighed and crouched down in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees. “They’re careful, okay? They don’t want to scare you off. But as someone who’s been watching this dynamic for years, I’m telling you—you’re not seeing the whole picture.”

You stared at him, your thoughts spinning. The years of friendship, the countless nights spent together, the laughter, the teasing touches, the moments you’d brushed off as nothing more than camaraderie. Could he be right? Had you really been that oblivious?

Felix straightened up, offering you a small, encouraging smile. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t dismiss it so quickly. Pay attention. You might be surprised.”

After the guys left, I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, Felix’s words looping endlessly in my head. They’re not gay. His voice echoed with conviction, and I felt ridiculous for letting it get to me. But I couldn’t stop replaying every touch, every look, every little thing that now felt heavier with meaning.

A soft knock on my door made me jump.

“Hey,” Chan’s voice came through, quiet but warm. “We’re hanging out in the living room. You coming?”

I hesitated before swinging my legs off the bed. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

When I padded into the living room, both of them looked up, Chan holding a beer, Hyunjin sprawled out on the couch, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. He’d swapped his shirt for a tank top, and the sharp lines of his collarbone and shoulders caught my attention for a second too long.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Chan teased, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

I sank down between them, their bodies close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off them.

“Sorry, I wasn’t much help earlier,” I murmured, picking at the hem of my sweater.

Hyunjin waved it off, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. But... you okay? You seemed distracted.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, glancing between them. The weight of their gazes felt different tonight—intense and questioning, like they were trying to read me.

Chan leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind me, his fingertips brushing my shoulder as his thumb started absentmindedly tracing small circles against my sweater.

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” Hyunjin added, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair, still slightly damp from a shower, fell into his eyes as he tilted his head to look at me.

My cheeks burned. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“Tired, huh?” Chan’s voice was teasing, but his hand dropped lower, grazing my upper arm now. “Or did Felix say something?”

I froze, my pulse quickening. “Why would you think that?”

Hyunjin sat back, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “You tell us. He had you alone for a while, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t say anything,” I rushed out, but my voice betrayed me, shaky and uncertain.

Chan’s hand stilled against my arm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. “Liar,” he said softly, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

Hyunjin leaned closer, his knee brushing against mine. “If something’s on your mind, you can tell us, you know.” His voice was low, smooth, and impossibly distracting.

I could feel the tension thickening in the room, their presence overwhelming. Chan’s touch lingered, Hyunjin’s closeness making it hard to think straight. They weren’t pushing, not exactly, but the way they looked at me—like they knew I was holding something back—made it impossible to escape the weight of Felix’s words.

They’re not gay. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, one I prayed they couldn’t see.

“I think…” I started, my voice quieter than I intended, “I think you two are… not what I thought you were.”

Hyunjin leaned in a little, and I could feel the weight of his gaze as it bore into me. “What do you mean?” His voice was still low, that calm authority I’d come to recognize from him.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet their eyes. My chest tightened, heart pounding in my ears. “I thought… I thought you guys were just… you know, gay.” The words rushed out before I could stop them, leaving me exposed.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating. Chan’s gaze flickered to Hyunjin for just a moment, his expression unreadable, before it landed back on me. He spoke, his voice low but steady. “Is that really what you think?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was searching for something.

“Yeah,” I blurted out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’ve seen the way you two act around each other, and… I figured I, or any girl, must’ve been the last thing on your mind.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened, the intensity of his usual gaze replaced by something else. He glanced at Chan again, who responded with a slight twitch of his lips—barely noticeable, but enough to make me feel like I’d just said something monumental.

“That’s what Felix told you, huh?” Hyunjin’s voice was calm, like he was probing for more. “What else did he say?”

I felt my voice tremble as I tried to process what was happening. “He said… you weren’t gay. And that… you were both into me”

The room was quiet for a moment, thick with anticipation. Hyunjin’s lips parted, and this time, he did speak. His voice was low, smooth, and tantalizingly close as he leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath ghosting across my skin, I had to let out a sharp exhale.

“Felix was right,” he said, his words slow, almost deliberate. “But I think he missed a few details.”

Chan didn’t move, his hand still resting on my arm. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again, that made my breath catch.

“You’re not wrong,” he said softly, his voice low and deliberate. “But maybe you’re looking at us the wrong way.”

Before I could respond, Hyunjin’s hand brushed against my thigh, light but deliberate, sending a jolt of heat through me. “You think we don’t notice how you look at us?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, almost a whisper. “How you press your pretty thighs together every time we get close?”

I couldn’t speak. The silence between us was thick with tension, the heat from their bodies so close to mine almost suffocating, but I couldn’t pull away. Not when their eyes were on me like that, not when their words were making everything inside me ache with anticipation.

Chan smiled, but it was different this time. There was no teasing, no joking. It was raw, and real, and it made my heart race even faster. “You thought we didn’t notice, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ve just been waiting for you to say something.”

The silence stretched, heavy and electric. My breath caught in my throat as Chan's gaze dropped to my lips, his fingers still brushing against my cheek. I didn’t move, couldn’t move, pinned by the sheer intensity of his eyes.

“Can I?” Chan asked softly, his voice rougher now.

I nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought.

And then his lips were on mine—warm, soft, and so much gentler than I expected. The kiss sent a jolt through my entire body. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his touch firm but careful, as if testing the boundaries.

Before I could even process the sensation, I felt Hyunjin move. His hand left my thigh, but only so he could tilt my face toward him, his fingers light under my chin. My lips barely parted from Chan’s when Hyunjin leaned in, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was deeper, more urgent, but just as intoxicating.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, every nerve ending on fire. They moved with practiced ease, like this was something they’d thought about—planned, even. Chan’s hand stayed at the nape of my neck while Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of my jaw, grounding me in the surreal, overwhelming moment.

When they finally pulled back, I was left breathless, caught between them, my head spinning.

“You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this,” Chan murmured, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

Hyunjin smirked, his thumb grazing the corner of my lips. “And we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the room was heavy, and then suddenly, it snapped. Hyunjin stood abruptly, his dark eyes flashing with something unreadable. Without a word, he walked out, heading toward his room.

Chan lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking back to me as I sat there, frozen and flustered. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk, the kind that made my stomach flip.

“feel free to join,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, before turning to follow Hyunjin.

My breath hitched, my heart racing as I sat there for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not to move. The warmth of their touches, their words, lingered on my skin, pulling me out of my daze.

I stood on shaky legs, hesitating for only a second before following them down the dimly lit hallway. The air felt charged with anticipation, every step amplifying the pounding in my chest.

When I reached Hyunjin’s room, the door was ajar, and the sight that greeted me knocked the air out of my lungs. Hyunjin was already sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the soft light casting shadows over the sharp lines of his chest and arms. His gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead.

Chan leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not going to stand there all night, are you?” he teased, his voice a mixture of warmth and challenge.

I swallowed hard, stepping inside, my movements hesitant but drawn by a force I couldn’t fight.

Hyunjin shifted, patting the space beside him on the bed, his lips curving into a lazy grin. “Come here,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, and I felt my legs move before I could think.

Chan shut the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the quiet room as he joined us.

As I crossed the room, my steps unsteady, Hyunjin’s gaze never left mine. When I reached the bed, his hand stretched out, fingers brushing lightly against mine before he tugged me closer.

“Sit,” he murmured, his voice deep and low, and I obeyed, settling on the edge of the bed. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiate toward me, and the proximity made my heart pound harder.

Chan moved to stand nearby, his presence commanding as always. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin that distracted me for just a moment too long. He noticed, of course, because Chan noticed everything, and the small smirk tugging at his lips told me he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement, “I think you’re making her nervous.”

Hyunjin’s hand trailed deliberately under the hem of my skirt, the warm press of his fingertips against my thigh making my breath hitch. His touch wasn’t rushed; it was languid, teasing.

“Am I?” he murmured, his voice low and muffled as he buried his face into the curve of my neck. The warmth of his breath and the slight scrape of his nose against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch despite the overwhelming heat flooding my chest.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said again, though this time there was a warning in his tone, his amusement still evident. He stepped closer, standing beside the bed where I sat perched on the edge, barely holding myself together.

Hyunjin only chuckled against my neck, his lips grazing my skin briefly as his fingers traced small circles against my inner thigh. “What? She doesn’t seem to mind.” His voice was pure velvet, laced with mischief.

my eyes darted to Chan, his steady gaze locking with mine. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at me, something that made my stomach tighten. Without a word, he reached out, tilting my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze.

“Is that true?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against my jaw. “You don’t mind?”

“I…” My words faltered, a soft moan slipping out before I could stop it. Hyunjin’s lips had found the sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through me. The combination of his warm breath and the light nip made my head tilt involuntarily, giving him more access.

“Hmm,” Hyunjin hummed against my neck, the vibration of his voice making my breath hitch.

Chan’s hand on my face tightened slightly, drawing my attention back to him. His dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing over my cheek as if to steady me—or maybe to steady himself. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, despite the chaos Hyunjin was causing on my neck.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I shook my head, though the flutter in my chest betrayed the truth.

Chan stepped closer, towering over me as he leaned down, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “use your words princess,” he said softly, his voice dropping an octave.

Uncomfortable? That was the last thing I felt.

“You’re not,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible, and Hyunjin’s fingers squeezed my thigh just slightly in response.

Chan chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a seat beside me. Now I was between them, their warmth encasing me, their attention so focused that it felt like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You’re shaking,” Hyunjin observed, his tone softer now, a stark contrast to the heat in his eyes.

“I’m not—” I started, but the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me again.

Chan leaned in closer, his hand joining Hyunjin’s on my other thigh. “really?,” he said gently, his touch steadying me even as it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

Hyunjin captured my lips in his with a fervor that made my breath hitch, his hand tightening on my waist as he pulled me flush against him. The kiss was hungry, every movement sending sparks through my body as his fingers trailed along my side.

Before I could process it, Chan was there too, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw as his lips found the curve of my neck. He moved slowly, deliberately, his breath hot against my skin as he kissed a path to my collarbone.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed, one gripping my thigh while the other cradled the back of my neck, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. Chan’s hand brushed over Hyunjin’s on my leg, their touches overlapping, leaving me trembling under their attention.

“Perfect,” Chan murmured against my neck, his voice low and full of approval as he pulled back just enough to look at me. “You’re perfect.”

Hyunjin’s lips left mine, his dark eyes meeting Chan’s for a brief, heated exchange before he leaned in close; his teeth grazed the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Chan’s lips were on mine then, softer but no less intense, his hand slipping beneath my sweater to rest on my breasts, his thumb brushing my nipples. Every touch, every kiss, felt like I was being unraveled piece by piece, leaving me entirely at their mercy.

Hyunjin’s hand slid further up my thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of my underwear as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Not like you at all.”

Chan chuckled softly against my lips, his hands steady as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down in the middle of Hyunjin’s bed. The new position had my skirt riding up higher, and I could feel the intensity of their gazes as they both stood looking at me.

Hyunjin knelt in front of me, his hands spreading over my legs as he pushed them apart slightly, his gaze flicking to Chan before meeting mine. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, the gentleness of it making me shiver.

Chan moved behind me, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him. His lips found my neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin.

The heat between us was almost unbearable. Hyunjin’s fingers finally pushed aside my underwear and started stroking where I wanted him the most, and I let out a soft gasp as his lips followed.

Chan’s grip on my waist tightened, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let go. Let us take care of you.”

My hands found their way into Hyunjin’s hair, tugging slightly as his mouth worked magic on me. The sound of his quiet chuckle against my skin sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I felt Chan’s lips curve into a smile against my shoulder; as he pushed hyunjin’s hand off my clit and replaced it with his own.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—the way their touches overlapped, how their breaths mingled with mine, left me utterly undone. Hyunjin glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Look at you,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan’s free hand slid under my shirt, his fingers picking at my nipples. “She’s sensitive,” Chan murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying a note of awe that made my heart race even faster.

My head tipped back against Chan’s shoulder, a soft moan escaping my lips as Hyunjin’s tongue and chan’s fingers were making me see heaven.

Chan’s lips pressed against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue, leaving a burning trail of sensation in his wake.

My body arched, every nerve igniting as waves of pleasure coursed through me, sharp and all-consuming. My nails dug into Hyunjin’s scalp, and his name left my lips in a breathless cry. His grip on my hips tightened, grounding me in the overwhelming sensation as his dark eyes bore into mine, filled with pride and hunger.

“That’s it,” chan murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “cum for us princess.”

And I did, my breath came in soft gasps, my body still trembling as the rush of pleasure faded into a warm hum.

Chan’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face toward him. His eyes were heavy-lidded but soft, his thumb brushing my jaw as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this.” He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his lips exploring mine as though he had all the time in the world.

Hyunjin pulled back finally, licking his lips like a hungry man. “Don’t think we’re done,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. His dark eyes roamed over me, taking in the sight of me flushed and breathless. “this was just the begining.”

“lie down, baby” chan demands, as he moved from behind me.

As I did, the guys started taking off their clothes urgently. And I couldn’t help but stare; they were gorgeous and they knew it.

Chan immediately layed on top of me, trapping me between his arms, his body hovering over me, and I realised just how big he actually was, from the corner of my eye I saw hyunjin get next to me in bed his grin was sharp, his fingers brushing over my calf with deliberate slowness as he settled beside me. “You’re in for it now,” he teased, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan didn’t waste a second. His lips were on mine, his cock pressing down on me, heavy and unyielding, I needed him so bad. His kiss was hungry, claiming, and I couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped my lips as he deepened it.

Beside me, Hyunjin’s hand roamed my body, his touch electrifying against my skin. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “You sound so sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear.

Chan pulled back slightly, just enough for me to catch my breath before he entered me without a warning, as I let out a gasp. I felt utterly full of him.

Hyunjin’s mouth followed a slow, teasing path down my neck, his fingers now splayed possessively against my tits. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and I couldn’t stop the arch of my back as the tension built between us.

Chan’s thrusts, were precise and passionate. “You drive us insane, you know that?” he growled against my lips before capturing them again.

Hyunjin chuckled low. “oh she knows exactly what she’s doing,” he murmured, his voice like silk, his touch anything but gentle as he made his intentions clear.

They weren’t taking their time anymore—they were claiming me, and I was powerless to resist.

each thrust was sending waves of pleasure through me, making my thoughts scatter. Chan’s breath was hot against my lips as he muttered, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Hyunjin’s hands were everywhere, his fingers tracing fire over my skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You like this, don’t you? Both of us making you our own?” His voice was low, teasing, and it only heightened the ache pooling in my core.

I couldn’t respond, my voice caught in my throat as Chan’s pace quickened, his grip on my thighs firm and possessive. Hyunjin smirked at my lack of words, his hand cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “we spent years thinking about fucking you like this, you’re ours now” he murmured before his lips captured mine in a kiss that was just as consuming as Chan’s touch.

The build was maddening, chan’s relentless rhythm pushing was me to the edge. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, my nails digging into his skin as I felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core. “Chan,” I gasped, his name spilling from my lips like a plea, my body trembling beneath him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice rough with need. “I’ve got you.”

The release hit me like a tidal wave, my body arching as pleasure flooded every nerve. My cries filled the room, and Chan followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as his own climax overtook him. He pressed his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling, his weight grounding me as I came down from the high.

Before I could fully catch my breath, I felt Hyunjin’s hand slide up my leg, his touch firm yet tantalizing. “Don’t think I’m letting you off that easily,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He was on me in an instant, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that reignited the fire in my veins.

“Turn over,” he commanded softly, his voice holding an edge of authority that made me shiver. Chan shifted, moving to the side to make space as Hyunjin positioned himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips. The anticipation was electric, and when he finally pushed into me, it was slow and deliberate, drawing out a moan that left no question about how much I wanted this.

“You’re stunning like this,” Hyunjin rasped, his movements starting to quicken, each one sending fresh sparks through my body. “I’ve been dying to have you like this.”

Chan, still close, leaned down to kiss me, his hand brushing the hair from my face as Hyunjin took control. I’m drooling at this point, and my legs were shaking due to the overstimulation.

the room was filled with my moans and hyunjin’s grunts, who was trying his best to last as long as possible.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned, the pressure on his cock making him go completely insane.

Eventually, he gave up, letting himself cum at the same time as me.

"Fuck," he breathed out, pulling out of me. He layed between me and chan.

"You did well, love," hyunjin whispered, making me smile despite how tired I was.

#bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #kpop smut #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #kpop fic #bang chan hard hours #stray kids drabbles

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miyukisu · 5 months ago

Text

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

#blue lock #blue lock smut #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #shidou smut #shidou x reader smut #shidou ryusei smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x reader smut #bllk #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock shidou #blue lock x you #bllk x you #shidou x you #♪ ── luvr.fm // works

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