#pc challenge

(This is a result of @astrayapple and me chatting about Chan’s thighs LOL)

The low buzz of the studio’s equipment faded beneath the heat simmering between the three of them. Han and Chan sat side by side in their chairs, the kind meant for long hours and late-night creativity, but tonight, they had a far different purpose.

Y/N knelt between them, the carpet soft against her knees, framed perfectly by their parted legs. Chan’s focus was split; his left hand moved deftly over the keyboard, adjusting levels and playing with the new song’s arrangement, while his right was buried in Y/N’s hair, guiding her with an easy, possessive grip. He barely looked down, but every subtle flex of his fingers set her pace, pulling her deeper onto his cock, then easing her back just enough to make her crave more.

She moaned around him, the sound swallowed by the music and the hum of the monitors. Every so often, Chan would pause his editing to let out a rough, approving, “Good girl,” before returning to the track, the contrast between his cool composure and his firm control making her ache. His thighs tensed on either side of her head, not trapping her, but reminding her she was right where he wanted her.

Next to them, Han watched, eyes dark, his own arousal obvious as he palmed himself through his jeans. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s cheek, his voice low and thick with heat. “You love the way he handles you, don’t you?” Han murmured, thumb stroking her lips when she surfaced for air. “Not even looking, but you’re still his.”

Y/N nodded, breathless, her lips slick and swollen. She let Chan guide her back down, savoring the weight of his hand on her head, the way his focus never really left her, even as he worked. Occasionally, he’d squeeze lightly, a gentle reminder to keep her mouth open, to take him deeper, to stay.

Han couldn’t wait any longer. He undid his jeans, freeing himself, and slid his chair just a bit closer. Chan’s hand loosened its grip, and Y/N turned, mouth eagerly wrapping around Han. Han hissed at the sensation, his hand tangling in her hair, his hips rolling up to meet her. “So fucking pretty like this, sweetheart,” he whispered, his praise a sinful melody. “You take us so well. Let us hear you.”

Y/N moaned, letting the vibration travel through Han. Behind her, Chan’s hand never left her head, fingers splayed in her hair. With his other hand, he continued to tweak the track, barely missing a beat. It made Y/N feel completely controlled, totally wanted her only job to please them, to take what they gave, to bask in their attention and praise.

After a while, Han’s breaths grew short, his words dissolving into broken groans as he spilled into her mouth. He stroked her jaw and tucked himself away, still watching, still hungry for the way she shivered at his praise.

Then Chan finally set his work aside. He tugged Y/N up, lifting her effortlessly and settling her in his lap, straddling his thick, sweatpant-covered thigh. The soft fabric pressed between her legs, and he bounced his thigh lightly, the friction making her gasp and clutch his shoulders. “Now, let’s see how much you want it,” he murmured, voice pure velvet as his hands steadied her hips. “Show me how desperate you are, baby.”

Han’s hands found her waist from behind, lips brushing her shoulder as he whispered more praise. Y/N moved, grinding down, Chan’s thigh flexing beneath her, Han’s mouth and hands driving her higher. The music faded away, replaced by their voices and her breathless moans, the three of them lost in the heat and hunger only they could create together.

Chan’s hands gripped Y/N’s hips, steadying her as she rocked on his thigh, the thick roll of his sweatpants pressing perfectly against the throbbing need between her legs. Every bounce sent a jolt of pleasure through her, the friction maddening, her breath coming in desperate, broken moans. His thigh flexed beneath her, muscles hard and unyielding, giving her exactly what she craved.

“Come on, baby,” Chan murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, thumb stroking her fevered skin. “Make a mess for me. Let me see how much you wanted it.”

Y/N’s head fell forward, forehead pressing against his shoulder as she ground down harder, chasing that sharp, dizzying edge. Han’s hands were everywhere, stroking her arms, squeezing her waist, his lips pressed to the curve of her neck, whispering filth and praise in her ear. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you need. You’re perfect, so fucking perfect like this.”

The room spun around her, nothing but the heat of Chan’s body, the relentless pressure of his thigh, Han’s encouraging hands and words. She let go, pleasure crashing over her in hot, shuddering waves, her cries muffled against Chan’s shirt as she soaked his sweatpants, her body trembling in their grip.

Chan held her through it, his own breath ragged, cock straining with need, the sight and feel of Y/N coming undone for him too much to resist. He shifted beneath her, lifting her off his thigh and guiding her back down onto his cock, still slick and swollen from her mouth. The angle was perfect, her legs shaking as he filled her, his hands strong on her hips, holding her in place.

He fucked up into her slowly, savoring every gasp that left her lips, every flutter of her spent body around him. “You feel that?” he rasped, teeth dragging over her jaw. “So tight, so wet for me. My good girl.”

Han stroked her hair, watching the way Chan unraveled beneath her, both of them lost to the rhythm and the heat. Y/N clung to Chan’s shoulders, meeting his thrusts, wanting to give him everything, to be everything he needed.

It wasn’t long before Chan’s control snapped. With a shuddering groan, he pulled her down hard, burying himself deep as he came, spilling inside her, his hands shaking as he held her close. He pressed his forehead to hers, whispering her name, a string of praise and love slipping free with every breath.

For a long moment, the three of them stayed tangled together—sweaty, breathless, utterly spent. Han pressed kisses to Y/N’s shoulder and Chan’s cheek, his arms wrapped around them both, anchoring them in the afterglow.

Chan finally broke the silence, voice soft, full of affection and pride. “You were perfect for us. Always are.”

Y/N smiled, blissed out and sated, still perched in Chan’s lap, Han’s arms around her. In the quiet thrum of the studio, surrounded by their heat and praise, she knew she was exactly where she belonged.

(If you have seen the hot jester on Insta, this is the result LOL)

Moonlight washed over the tangled sheets of Prince Yeosang’s chambers, playing over bare skin and disheveled velvet. Y/N knelt astride Yeosang’s lap, her jester’s uniform open, bells jingling wildly as she rode him, hips rolling, hair tumbling into her face. Yeosang’s crown sat askew, his hands gripping her waist, guiding her movements, both of them drunk on the thrill of their secret.

They were so lost in each other that the creak of the chamber door barely registered until it swung wide and a gasp split the air. Y/N froze, mouth parted around a moan, as Sir Seonghwa appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat at the sight: his prince buried inside the jester, their bodies slick and trembling with need.

For a heartbeat, shame and hunger warred on Seonghwa’s face. But Yeosang’s gaze met his, dark and commanding, his voice rough: “Don’t just stand there, Seonghwa. Close the door and come here.”

Y/N’s pulse thudded in her ears as Seonghwa obeyed. He set his sword aside, his armor clinking to the floor, stripping down to bare, eager skin as he approached the bed. He knelt beside them, his hand trembling as he tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, lips brushing her temple. “Are you sure?” he murmured, voice deep and reverent.

Y/N turned, grabbing his hand and guiding it to her breast, her own mouth hot on his. “Yes, Seonghwa. Please…”

He kissed her gentle at first, then greedy as Yeosang thrust up into her, making her gasp into Seonghwa’s mouth. Seonghwa’s hands were everywhere: stroking her thighs, squeezing her ass, pinching her nipples through the open tunic. Yeosang’s grip tightened on her hips, the prince’s voice a low growl in her ear: “Let our knight taste you, love.”

With Yeosang still inside her, Seonghwa knelt between Y/N’s trembling thighs. He licked a hot, wet stripe up her center, tongue swirling around her clit as Yeosang rocked her back onto his cock. She cried out, the bells on her costume jingling in frantic rhythm as Seonghwa devoured her, one hand gripping her thigh, the other reaching up to twist her nipple.

Yeosang leaned back, watching with a lazy, hungry smile as his knight licked and sucked the jester to shuddering, gasping release, her thighs clamping around Seonghwa’s head as she came with a sob. Seonghwa didn’t let up, licking her through the aftershocks as Yeosang fucked her slow and deep, the sounds of wet heat and moans filling the air.

When Y/N was boneless and trembling, Yeosang pulled out. Seonghwa rose, his cock flushed and leaking, and Yeosang guided Y/N onto her hands and knees, bells jangling. Seonghwa slid into her from behind with a low groan, filling her with one firm thrust, while Yeosang knelt before her, guiding his cock to her lips.

“Take us both, darling,” Yeosang commanded, voice thick. Y/N moaned, mouth stretched around Yeosang as Seonghwa fucked her from behind, the knight’s hands gripping her hips, his thrusts hard and relentless.

She was lost in sensation: the taste of Yeosang, the relentless pressure of Seonghwa filling her, the heat of their hands and mouths roaming her flushed skin, the frantic sound of her bells echoing off the stone walls. The two men murmured praise and filth in equal measure, their voices tangled with her desperate cries.

Seonghwa’s hand reached around to rub her clit, fingers fast and rough. “You’re perfect,” he panted, “so fucking perfect for us.” Yeosang’s hand tangled in her hair, holding her steady as she sucked him, his own hips stuttering as he neared the edge.

Y/N came undone, sobbing around Yeosang’s cock as pleasure ripped through her, her body shaking between them. Yeosang spilled in her mouth, groaning her name, while Seonghwa thrust deep and shuddered, filling her with his release.

They collapsed together on the tangled sheets, sweat-slicked and out of breath, Yeosang’s crown hanging off the edge of the bed, Seonghwa’s armor forgotten, and the jester’s bells ringing soft as a secret in the dark.

Y/N padded quietly into the kitchen, skin still tingling from the night’s revelations. She spotted Chan at the counter, his back to her predictably bare. Smirking at the opportunity, she crept up behind him and delivered a playful smack to his exposed ass.

Chan jolted. “Oi! What was that for—” He turned, eyes widening as he took in her lack of clothing, his train of thought derailed instantly.

Y/N just giggled and opened the fridge, grabbing two water bottles for herself and I.N. As she headed out, she called over her shoulder, “That’s for corrupting the maknae.”

Chan burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the apartment as Y/N sauntered away, water bottles in hand, leaving him speechless and thoroughly entertained.

Y/N straddled Hongjoong’s lap, San’s huge hoodie barely covering where they were joined. Hongjoong worked, headphones on, his hand resting on her bare thigh as she leaned against his shoulder, fighting sleep.

The studio door eased open. San entered, taking in the sight of Y/N warming Hongjoong, the hoodie riding up her hips. Grinning, San walked over and kissed her, his hand sliding under the fabric to tease where their bodies met. Y/N squirmed, making Hongjoong finally look up, startled.

San laughed quietly, fingers still stroking. “So, Y/N…got room for one more?”

Hongjoong’s surprise faded into a smirk, and Y/N’s drowsiness evaporated in the rush of heat between them.

(I smile every time I look at this know how can you not?)

The luxury boutiques sparkled, but Chan’s focus was split between helping Y/N find joy in new clothes and keeping their five-month-old daughter content in the baby carrier strapped to his chest. Chan handled the baby with practiced ease, rocking and soothing her, insisting Y/N take the day for herself and Ji-won. “You deserve it,” he told her, “and I’ve got our little one tonight.”

Y/N let herself unwind, laughing as she and Ji-won tried sunglasses and picked out shoes. Ji-won, still a little wary, watched Chan’s gentle care from a distance his suspicion lingering, but curiosity growing every time Chan winked or made a goofy face at the baby.

At dinner, Chan kept the baby nestled in his lap, bottle in hand, feeding her with a quiet competence that made Y/N’s heart ache in the best way. “You two relax,” Chan said, “tonight is for you.” For the first time in months, Y/N was able to focus on her son, listening to his stories, teasing him about school, and watching the lines of worry soften on his face.

After dessert, Chan cleared his throat and reached into his jacket for a small, worn watch box. He slid it across the table to Ji-won, who blinked in surprise as he lifted the lid and found a handsome, classic watch inside.

“It’s one of the first watches I ever bought myself,” Chan explained, his voice low and sincere. “I wore it all through my twenties. It means a lot to me.” He hesitated, watching Ji-won’s face. “When I had my first son, I always thought I’d want to pass it down to him someday. I want you to have it, Ji-won. And if you ever have a son of your own, maybe you’ll pass it down too.”

Ji-won stared at the watch, turning it over in his hands, the weight of the gesture settling in. He looked up, searching Chan’s face for any hint of obligation or performance, but all he found was quiet, genuine hope.

Y/N reached across the table, squeezing Ji-won’s hand as Chan smiled softly, the baby now sleeping soundly in his arms. Ji-won finally nodded, fastening the watch on his wrist, something shifting, something letting go.

That night, surrounded by city lights and the gentle hum of family, Y/N saw it: a new trust being born, stitched together by choice, patience, and the kind of love that meant showing up day after day, year after year.

(MY FIRST BLONDE SAN!!!)

The mirrored walls and soft lighting of the luxury boutique made Y/N feel just a little out of place, but San seemed perfectly at home, his hand warm and steady at the small of her back. Glass cases glittered with designer jewelry, and mannequins in velvet and silk lined the walls. Y/N’s eyes lingered on a flowing dress in the window, but she shook her head, moving on.

San noticed. “You liked that one,” he said gently, already signaling to a sales associate. “You should try it on.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at the price tag before laughing nervously. “San, it’s beautiful, but—”

“It’s for you,” he insisted, smiling widely. “Let me do this.” His voice was soft but so certain, the kind of certainty she’d always admired in him.

Eun-Byul watched from a nearby chaise, chin in hand, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Omma, Appa’s right. You always tell me not to settle for less than I’m worth.” She grinned, teasing. “Maybe you should listen to your own advice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but let San and the associate coax her into the fitting room. She emerged a few minutes later, the dress hugging her perfectly, the fabric whispering against the marble floor. San’s breath caught; Eun-Byul snapped a secret photo of his awestruck expression.

“You look stunning,” San said, voice thick with pride.

Y/N flushed, smoothing her hands over the silk. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up.”

“Then let’s play,” Eun-Byul chimed, already collecting shoes and a statement bag for her mother to try.

They spent the afternoon drifting from boutique to boutique, San happily carrying the growing stack of glossy bags, Y/N trying on pieces she never would have picked for herself, and Eun-Byul offering both sharp critiques and genuine compliments. Y/N’s protests faded with every new find, laughter bubbling up each time San pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “You deserve it.”

That evening, the three of them sat in the warm glow of their favorite restaurant, the day’s treasures tucked safely beside their table. San reached into his pocket, pulled out a small velvet box, and slid it across to Y/N. “One last thing,” he said, eyes shining.

Y/N opened it to find a delicate gold locket. Her breath caught as she snapped it open and saw a tiny photo inside of San, Eun-Byul, and herself, arms around each other, grinning wide and happy.

“Now you can carry us with you wherever you go,” San murmured, voice full of love.

Eun-Byul beamed, leaning in as Y/N blinked back tears, her heart full to overflowing. Surrounded by laughter, luxury, and the two people she loved most, Y/N knew this was the memory she’d treasure above any dress or diamond: a family, shining and together, captured forever in gold.

I traded with @astrayapple and asked her for a HyunChan drabble idea. These are the photocards that she makes on her Etsy shop. Here is her post to see what she is selling. These are such high quality, too!

Chan lounged against the headboard, sweat-slick chest rising and falling as he watched the scene unfold with a low, approving growl. Hyunjin was on his knees between Chan’s thighs, lips swollen and eyes glassy from sucking Chan off, hair mussed from where Y/N had raked her fingers through it. The blush staining Hyunjin’s high cheekbones was a perfect match for the delicate lace panties and sheer camisole clinging to his long, trembling frame Y/N’s choice, and Chan’s demand.

“Look at you, pretty thing,” Y/N purred, circling behind Hyunjin. With one hand, she tugged the hem of the panties higher over his hips, exposing more of his smooth skin. Her other hand tangled in his hair, pulling his head back to expose the slender line of his throat. Hyunjin whimpered, hips rolling back in search of friction, desperate under their attention.

Chan’s hand curled around Hyunjin’s jaw, fingers rough, his voice a dark command. “Beg for it, princess. Show us how much you want to be ruined.”

Hyunjin’s voice was wrecked, breath hot and desperate. “Please, Daddy, hah please Mommy, I need too—”

But Y/N was already moving, sliding her hand between Hyunjin’s thighs,  sliding underneath the lace, her touch relentless. Hyunjin’s back arched, the camisole riding up, every inch of him trembling and needy. Chan reached down, stroking Hyunjin’s cheek as Y/N stroked his cock, her words a whisper against his ear: “Good girl. Let go. Make a mess. We’ll take care of you.”

Hyunjin shattered for them; every sound and shudder was claimed by Chan’s possessive touch and Y/N’s feral, hungry play, a perfect, beautiful mess between them both.

I traded with @jinsankitten, and she gave me the idea for this drabble.

Y/N’s head throbbed as she lay bundled in bed, a fever simmering under her skin. She’d stayed up all night making friendship bracelets, carefully threading beads in purple and white for the BTS concert next weekend. Now, thanks to her late-night dedication, she was sick, and chaos had descended on her apartment.

San burst in first, arms overflowing with plushies. “You must be surrounded by comfort!” he declared, layering stuffed animals until Y/N was almost invisible under the pile. “San, I’m burning up,” she protested weakly, but he just nestled a bear beside her cheek, beaming with pride.

Mingi appeared next, wielding a hairbrush like a microphone. “Local entertainment is here!” he sang, launching into a dramatic BTS cover, his goofy expressions and wild dance moves sending Y/N into a fit of giggles despite her cough. “Rest up, you need to make it to the concert!” he insisted between verses.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Felix was determined to be the MVP. He’d roped Seungmin into helping make soup. “She needs to get better!” Felix declared. But vegetables were flying, the broth was suspiciously thick, and Seungmin was frantically googling ‘how to fix burnt soup’. “Felix, you can’t just add more water!” Seungmin cried as Felix dumped in another cup.

Back in the bedroom, San and Mingi had devolved into bickering. San wanted to add more plushies; Mingi wanted to serenade Y/N with another song. Felix finally arrived, triumphantly holding a lumpy bowl of soup, Seungmin in tow, looking traumatized. “Soup’s ready, love!” Felix grinned.

Y/N, sandwiched between plushies and laughter, watched her boyfriends argue over who could make her feel better. The bracelets for BTS sat finished on her nightstand, a reminder she’d get there, especially with these idiots by her side.

I traded with @moonlightpirate, and she approved this idea that @jinsankitten and I came up with.

Y/N flopped onto the couch beside Mingi, pouting dramatically. “If Seonghwa tries to stuff one more vitamin in my mouth, I swear I’m going to turn into a multivitamin gummy.”

Mingi snorted, trying to hide his laughter behind a pillow. “You know he just worries about you. He can’t help it; there's a reason why everyone calls him mom / mother.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t need to be tucked in with a lecture about hydration. I just want to eat ramen and watch drama reruns in peace.”

Unbeknownst to them, Jongho was lingering in the hallway, earbuds out and curiosity piqued. He caught every word, a smirk slowly spreading across his face. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his phone and started typing a message to Seonghwa.

A few minutes later, Seonghwa appeared, arms crossed and brow raised in mock offense. “So, I’m mothering you, am I?”

Y/N’s cheeks went pink. Mingi looked like he wanted to melt into the sofa. Jongho sauntered in with a grin, utterly unapologetic. “Hey, I only believe in transparency,” he said, shrugging.

Seonghwa just shook his head, but his eyes softened as he plopped beside Y/N, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “If you’d rather not be taken care of, just say so. But you’re still getting your vitamins.”

Y/N groaned, Mingi giggled, and Jongho looked far too pleased with himself as Seonghwa pressed a vitamin bottle into Y/N’s hand, mothering, yes, but with a smile that made it impossible to resist.

The late afternoon sun bathes the room in golden light. Y/N sits cross-legged on the bed, gently stroking Chan’s hair as he lies stretched out with his head in her lap, deep in puppy space. Chan wearing a pair of fluffy wolf ears perched atop his head and a grey tail plug nestled inside him, completing his soft wolf look. His oversized grey sweater with pink paw prints on the palms, grey thigh-high socks with black bows, and a black collar with a gold ring at his throat.

The door opens quietly, and Seungmin steps in, visibly stressed. Y/N notices right away and pats the bed beside her. “Does my other pup need to turn his brain off too?” Y/N asks softly.

Seungmin nods, but instead of joining her immediately, he goes to gather his gear: brown fluffy puppy ears, a matching brown tail plug, a cozy brown sweater, and brown thigh-high socks. He returns to the bed, holding a soft blue collar for Y/N to fasten. She smiles, fastening it gently around his neck, the blue a bright contrast against all the warm brown.

As Seungmin settles in, Chan looks up at him with wide, puckered lips, silently begging for a kiss. Y/N laughs, stroking Chan’s hair. “Chan really did miss you today,” she teases. Seungmin smiles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Chan’s lips, earning a blissful sigh.

Time passes in soft, golden comfort, but Seungmin is still restless, his gaze distant and hands fidgety. Chan watches him sleepily, sensing the unease. Y/N notices immediately, rubbing Seungmin’s back and pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re having trouble getting into puppy space, aren’t you, pup?” she murmurs.

Seungmin nods, cheeks flushed, glancing between Chan and Y/N. Y/N tips his chin up, her tone playful and commanding. “I think I know what’ll help you turn your brain off, puppy. Why don’t you eat your Master out? That always helps, doesn’t it?”

Seungmin’s restlessness melts away, excitement sparking in his eyes. He glances at Chan, who gives a sleepy, supportive grin and scoots over to make space. Y/N laughs softly, brushing her fingers through Chan’s hair and cupping Seungmin’s cheek. “See? Even wolfy thinks you deserve your treat.”

With Chan curled up close, Seungmin eagerly settles between Y/N’s thighs, hands gentle but needy as he presses kisses up her inner thighs. Y/N sighs, threading her fingers through Seungmin’s hair, her other hand resting on Chan’s head. Chan hums, nuzzling into her side, then glances up at her for permission. Receiving a soft nod, he shifts, dipping his head under Y/N’s shirt. His breath is warm against her skin as he uses his mouth on her breast, tongue swirling and lips teasing her nipples, puckering them up, while Seungmin’s mouth works skillfully on her pussy, making her hips jerk.

Y/N’s breath grows ragged, her praise tumbling out in soft, affectionate words as the sensations build Seungmin’s devotion and Chan’s eager affection, drawing out the sweetest sounds. Both pups bask in her approval and closeness, the room filling with warmth as worries fade away in the golden light.

Y/N paused at the bedroom doorway, pulse quickening at the sight that greeted her. Seonghwa sat upright at the vanity, legs pressed together, wrapped in a pastel pink sweater and a black skirt that rode high on his thighs. Black thigh-high stockings, each topped with a pink bow, hugged his legs, completing the delicate, feminine look.

Yeosang sat on a low stool directly in front of Seonghwa, knees nestled between Seonghwa’s. He leaned in close, his grip gentle but firm as he held Seonghwa’s chin, carefully sweeping shimmering pink shadow over his eyelids. The rest of Seonghwa’s makeup was already perfect: glossy pink lips, rosy blush, and a hint of highlighter catching the light.

“Eyes up for me, pretty,” Yeosang murmured, his voice a low caress. Seonghwa obediently tipped his chin, lips parting in anticipation, every inch of him radiating submission and need.

That’s when Yeosang caught Y/N’s reflection in the mirror and grinned. “Miss,” he said smoothly, “isn’t he beautiful tonight?”

Seonghwa’s gaze flicked to the mirror, cheeks flushed and eyes pleading. “Miss… do you like it?” he whispered, thighs squeezing together under his skirt as Yeosang finished the last careful sweep of pink.

Y/N’s lips curled in a dark, approving smile as she stepped inside, letting her eyes drink in the vision before her. “You’re breathtaking, Hwa. And Yeosang, you’re doing such a good job making him pretty for me.”

Yeosang’s hand slid down to Seonghwa’s knee, squeezing softly. “He’s been the perfect doll for me, Miss. So patient and obedient.”

Y/N’s hand slipped into her pocket, fingers curling around the remote. “That deserves a reward, don’t you think?” she purred, pressing the button.

Seonghwa gasped, his whole body jolting as the butt plug vibrator came to life inside him. His hands gripped the hem of his skirt, knuckles white, as a quiet, desperate whimper spilled from his lips. “Miss—!”

Y/N crossed the room, her presence electric as she leaned in to whisper, “Show Miss how good you can be, baby. Let Yeosang finish making you beautiful while you take it for me.”

Yeosang smirked, brushing a thumb under Seonghwa’s trembling eye. “Keep still, angel,” he husked, “or Miss will only turn it up.”

Seonghwa’s breath came in soft, broken moans as Yeosang’s skilled hands finished his makeup and the relentless buzz inside him pushed him closer to the edge, all while Y/N watched, her gaze burning with pride and anticipation.

Y/N slipped quietly into the apartment, following the faint sounds to the bedroom. Through the open door, she paused, taking in the scene unfolding between her partners.

Seungmin knelt on the bed, brown puppy ears flopping as he shifted, his oversized sweater barely skimming the tops of his thighs. His hands, hidden in soft paw gloves, rested obediently in his lap. A plush tail plug peeked out from under the sweater. Cream thigh-highs hugged his legs, and the purple collar at his throat caught the light, leash held securely in Han’s hand.

Han’s voice was low and soothing, coaxing Seungmin deeper. “That’s it, good boy. Let go for us, Min. No thoughts, just puppy brain. You’re safe here. Just a sweet, dumb pup for me.”

Seungmin’s cheeks were flushed, eyes hazy and adoring as he gazed up at Han. As Y/N entered, Han’s lips curled into a smile, acknowledging her presence without breaking the spell. He gave Seungmin’s leash a gentle tug to get his attention, then reached out, thumb brushing softly over Seungmin’s bottom lip.

“Open,” Han prompted, voice gentle but commanding.

Seungmin obeyed instantly, mouth parting. Han slid his thumb between Seungmin’s lips, and Seungmin latched on, eyes fluttering closed as he suckled. The gesture was grounding, pushing Seungmin further into that safe, obedient puppy space.

Y/N settled beside Han, her hand stroking Seungmin’s head, fingers threading tenderly through the hair around his floppy ears. “Good pup,” she cooed, reinforcing Han’s praise. “You’re doing so well for us. Such a happy, dumb puppy.”

She let her fingers linger, then gently cupped Seungmin’s cheek, her voice soft but commanding. “Speak for us, pup.”

Seungmin’s eyes fluttered open, lips parting as he obediently let go of Han’s thumb. He let out a soft, earnest bark: “Meong-meong!”

Han’s mouth curled in approval, giving Seungmin’s leash a fond tug. “Good boy.

Y/N smiled, stroking behind his ear. “That’s our good puppy.”

Seungmin’s whole body seemed to melt, leaning into their attention, every bit the cherished pet, obedient, adored, and blissfully content between his two doms.

Yunho’s gloved hand encircled Y/N’s neck, the cool leather a stark contrast against her heated skin. He stood close in front of her, eyes locked on hers, his grip just tight enough to keep her present, trembling, and completely under his control. His free hand rested at her waist, grounding and steady.

Directly behind her, Jongho pressed in, the crisp fabric of his suit brushing her bare arms and the solid heat of his body anchoring her in place. His hands slid confidently up her thighs beneath the hem of her skirt, fingertips teasing the edge of her panties. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Hold still for us, baby.”

With deliberate slowness, Jongho hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and began to ease them down, letting the fabric glide across her hips and thighs. The panties fell to her ankles, leaving her skirt bunched around her waist. The vulnerability set her nerves alight, every inch of exposed skin hyperaware of their touch.

Jongho’s hands returned to her hips, large and sure as he drew her back against the hard line of his body. He left one hand possessively splayed over her lower stomach, just underneath the fabric of her skirt, while the other slid lower, gently coaxing her thighs apart. His fingers found her heat, stroking softly, teasing her folds as she gasped under Yunho’s unwavering gaze.

Yunho’s grip on her neck flexed, drawing a soft whine from her lips. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice a low, velvet threat. “Let Jongho touch you. Let us hear you.”

Jongho’s fingers slipped between her folds, working her with slow, skillful precision, his breath warm against her ear. “So responsive,” he murmured, his tone thick with pride. “You love being surrounded by us, don’t you?”

Yunho leaned in, brushing a kiss over the corner of her mouth, his gloved thumb pressing lightly under her chin, tilting her head up. “You’re ours,” he whispered, his words sinking into her skin as Jongho’s touch sent pleasure spiraling through her body.

Held in place between Yunho’s commanding presence and Jongho’s expert hands, Y/N gave herself over to them completely, her skirt rucked up, every sense consumed by their dominance and devotion.

Thank you to @jinsankitten for the idea for this one! <33

The car hummed quietly, music playing low, but the real tension was in the back seat. Hyunjin sat beside y/n, nerves and anticipation written in his posture. y/n’s glance was anything but innocent; when she leaned close, her breath warm against his ear, Hyunjin’s jaw clenched, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Maintaining eye contact, y/n let her hand trail slowly over Hyunjin’s chest, feeling his heartbeat, then down across his waist to his lap. Her intentions were clear. Hyunjin’s breath hitched, lips parting as he tried to stay composed, but the hunger in y/n’s eyes made it impossible. She shifted, her movements slow and deliberate, every touch heightening his anticipation.

From the front seat, Changbin caught their interaction in the rearview mirror. A slow, knowing grin spread across his lips. “Looks like someone can’t help themselves,” he said, voice laced with dominance. “Hyunjin, keep your eyes on me. y/n, don’t stop unless I say so.”

Hyunjin gripped the seat, knuckles white, as y/n’s lips and tongue traced over his jaw and collarbone, leaving him breathless and trembling. Changbin’s voice guided them, low and commanding: “That’s it. Just like that. Don’t let him off easy.”

IN, unable to ignore the heat rising in the car, finally pulled over and parked, breathing in shaky gasps. He glanced at Changbin, pupils wide. “There’s no way I can keep driving with you three like this,” he admitted, voice rough.

Changbin reached over, squeezing IN’s shoulder, then let his hand settle firmly on IN’s thigh, thumb stroking slow circles. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, tone a mix of command and comfort. The touch grounded IN, easing his tension as Changbin’s hand moved to take out his cock to give him relief.

In the back seat, y/n continued to go down on Hyunjin, her lips and tongue leaving him gasping, while Changbin’s dominance infused every movement. The car’s heat thickened, every moan and shudder amplified by trust and connection. Four voices mingled together, sharing pleasure and comfort, the world outside fading until only their warmth and anticipation remained.

Mingi settled into the armchair, gently guiding Y/N onto his lap. Her dress slipped up as she straddled one of his thighs, the cool press of his body against her bare skin intensifying the rush of anticipation. Mingi’s hands steadied her hips, his voice a velvet whisper in her ear, “Trust me, you’re safe.”

He brushed her hair aside, lips tracing along her neck before his fangs grazed her pulse. The moment he bit down, heat flooded Y/N’s body, the venom sending waves of warmth and longing from her neck all the way down to her crotch. Instinctively, her hips rolled against Mingi’s thigh, the friction delicious and overwhelming, every nerve heightened by the pleasure in her veins.

Across the room, Jongho watched, his gaze dark with hunger. He moved closer, kneeling beside the chair. Jongho’s hands slid up Y/N’s torso, one large palm cupping her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. His thumb brushed over her sensitive nipple, coaxing another breathless moan from her lips.

Jongho then gently took her hand in his, raising her arm so her wrist was exposed. He pressed a soft kiss to the delicate skin, locking eyes with her as if asking silent permission. When Y/N nodded, breathless and moaning, Jongho’s fangs sank into her wrist. The sensation was sharp and quick, then swiftly replaced by a new, dizzying wave of warmth and pleasure, mingling with the heat already flooding her body from Mingi’s bite.

Mingi’s strong arms held her steady as she found a rhythm, his thigh flexing beneath her, encouraging her movements. “That’s it, good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. With his mouth still at her neck, he drank slowly, savoring the taste of her and the way she trembled in his hold.

Jongho’s touch grew bolder, fingers teasing and exploring as he continued to support her, his other hand still caressing her fondling and pinching her breast, his lips lingering at her wrist as he drank. The combination of Mingi’s bite, the friction against his thigh, and Jongho’s attentive hands and fangs sent Y/N spiraling, lost in a haze of warmth, pleasure, and the deep, supernatural bond tying the three together.

With both vampires still feeding from her, their hands and mouths encouraging her, she felt herself teetering on the edge. Mingi’s voice rumbled against her skin, low and commanding, "That’s it, good girl. Let go for us." Jongho echoed him, his own tone soft but insistent, "You’re doing so well. Cum for us, sweetheart."

Their words and touch guided her through the overwhelming sensations, helping her chase that final wave of release as they drank, their praise and presence driving her higher until she finally tumbled over the edge, screaming and moaning their names as her orgasm crashed through her and they held her close while she trembled.

When the vampires finally drew back from their bites, Jongho pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, while Mingi’s lips lingered at her neck. They held her close, grounding her as the last waves of heat faded, leaving her dazed, breathless, and utterly cherished in their arms.

Afternoon sunlight spilled across the bed, turning everything golden. Y/N posed atop the rumpled sheets, the red and black lingerie hugging her curves. She stretched, the delicate fabric highlighting every line of her body, her gaze soft as it met Hyunjin’s behind the camera.

Hyunjin’s eyes lingered on her, his grip steady as he framed each shot. Every photo was a keepsake, something to carry with him when he left for tour in a few days. “Beautiful, love,” he said, voice gentle. “Let me see those eyes.”

Y/N shifted, the sheets slipping as she arched closer to his lens, a small, longing smile tugging at her lips. Hyunjin lowered the camera for a moment, drinking in the sight of her this moment, just for them.

He reached out, brushing her hair back and tucking a strand behind her ear. “These will help,” he murmured, lifting the camera again. “But nothing compares to you, love.”

Y/N smoothed pink dye through Seonghwa’s hair, her gloved fingers massaging his scalp in slow, gentle circles. Seonghwa closed his eyes, a soft hum of contentment escaping his lips as he relaxed into her touch. “You have magic hands,” he murmured, peeking up at her with a teasing smile, eyes shining with affection.

She leaned in to make sure she didn’t miss a single strand, the scent of dye mingling with the warmth between them. Seonghwa’s hands slid down to her hips, his fingers gripping gently as he tugged her a little closer. “You’re making it hard to sit still, you know,” he whispered, his voice low and full of meaning.

Y/N laughed, cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and excitement. “If you keep moving, it’ll be streaky,” she warned, trying to sound stern, but her voice was soft.

Seonghwa just grinned wider, his grip tightening as he pulled her between his knees, dyeing forgotten for a moment as he pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist. The air between them buzzed with anticipation, the simple act of coloring hair turning into something much sweeter.