oh my GOD me and my friend talked about this a few weeks ago and omg
Wooyoung would ...
Wooyoung with a butt plug would be so cocky at first, temptingly rocking his hips from side to side, displaying a pretty pink crystal butt plug in the shape of a heart.
He'd be lying on the bed with his chest and face down, the left cheek of his face resting softly against the sheets while the graceful curve of his spine arched.
Wooyoung would bite the corner of his lower lip, tongue darting out to wet the seam of it before biting down on the plump flesh, his back heaving just slightly from the ragged breaths of anticipation.
His eyes would lock onto yours, dark and unyielding with a hunger that made your breath hitch, palms sweaty and a familiar heat coiling in the depths of your stomach.
"Am I pretty?" he'd purr, his voice languid and laced with heat, the corners of his lips tugging into a faint smirk from seeing your reaction.
Wooyoung would make a show of it, forcing your blown-out, dazed eyes to follow every sway of his hips, every clench of his tight muscles against the plug. He'd moan, loud and unfiltered, brows furrowing from the intense pleasure of being full.
His thick, flushed cock would hang low, following the sway of his hips as beads of precum dropped onto the sheets, forming a dark pool of arousal glistening in the white sheets.
You'd groan at the sight, swallowing past a dry throat as you crawled slowly towards the man, the subtle heat of his fevered skin engulfing you while your heart remained a hammering thud against your ribs.
Wooyoung would giggle at your reaction, only to earn a sharp slap of your palm against the swell of his butt cheek, eliciting a loud, high-pitched whine crawling out of his throat in a desperate plea for more.
His cockiness would falter, melting into something needy and desperate, chest heaving as air escaped his parted lips in sharp, ragged gasps.
Your finger would curl around the crystal, slowly sliding it out by the fraction of an inch, the ring of Wooyoung’s muscle tightening, clenching around the tip in a desperate, needy response at the sudden loss of fullness.
With every slow, deliberate slide, a raw, wet squelch would fill the room, weaving through Wooyoung’s ragged breaths and the sharp, broken whimpers escaping his throat.
Wooyoung would cum just like that—your tongue flat and heavy against his stretched rim, lapping with purpose while you drove the plug back into his heat, your hand stroking his cock as your thumb dug firmly into his slit before allowing his release.
His whole body would lock up, leaving only the frantic stutter of his hips as he bucked into your hand, driving himself onto the plug and your tongue in a desperate bid to delay his release, every breath a fraying mess of broken moans and desperate, sharp whimpers.
because sometimes, actions don't speak louder than words
OT8 x F!Reader
♡ — synopsis: how do the boys talk to you while they're hittin that shit crazy style
♡ — warnings: crazy dirty talk. i plead the fifth.
♡ — notes: thank you so much for 4k followers! this is a small token of gratitude, and if you've been on my blog for long enough, dirty talk is my favorite thing on earth, so heres some things i think the ateez men would say to you lovelies in bed <3
⌞They have something to say to you ...⌝
Hongjoong
Condescending, teasing, dumbifying, talks to you like you’re stupid.
"Your job is to lie there and pretend that pretty little brain of yours isn't there."
"You think you have half a mind to give me orders? What's gotten into my sweet little girl?"
"I can feel your heartbeat through your cunt, baby, you're so alive it makes me wanna fuck you to death."
"Don't give up now, pretty, show me what else you can do with that mouth other than run it.
"You're cumming? So soon? Such a sensitive pussy, you'll be a slick wreck before I even get my dick in you."
"Pretty baby loves when Daddy fucks her to sleep, hm? I kinda miss when you use that voice to scream for me."
"Stupid cunt can't stop drooling all over the place. She can't help it, baby, huh? Can she? Fix your face and answer me, slut."
"You have such a soft body; we're gonna see how much it can withstand."
"I don't think you understand how much you've fucked up letting a man like me get his hands on you."
"You're such a good listener when you're all fucked out, pretty girl. Don't worry, drift off. I'll use you until I think you've had enough."
Seonghwa
Gentle, coaxing, intense, talks to you like if he’s too harsh, you might break.
"Six. You're going to cum for me six times. I'm gonna get you there, baby, let me take care of you."
"You're so close, honey, focus. god you're so beautiful, it drives me insane."
"I love how my fingers get you excited, how they reach places you could only dream of touching."
“Is my gorgeous girl gonna cum for me? Yes, you are; don’t be shy.”
“I don’t mean to be so deep, baby, but you’ll be okay. You can take me, you always do like the angel you are.”
“Deep breaths, yes, that’s it. Feel me everywhere. Focus on feeling good; that’s all that’s ever mattered.”
“Open that pretty mouth, honey; I wanna hear those noises you make when you’re overstimulated.”
"Don't float away from me, come on. Snap out of it. Only 2 more to go."
"Please, bunny its the only thing I want, it's the only thing I need. Let me see those eyes when you cum. Don't look away."
"I just can't help it, baby, can't you go for 7? Please? Good girls always go above and beyond."
San
Encouraging, drunk, prideful, much like he’s overtly proud of how well you handle him
"That's it, talk to me, let me know what spots I'm touching."
"Mmm, fuck babydoll, your tummy's so soft, you smell so fucking good... you're perfect."
"I know it's a lot, but you got it, look at you... deep strokes. Don't let your body run from me, stay right there."
"I'm gonna get as many orgasms out of you as I can, hold back, and I'll force them out of you."
"You're so pretty- mwah!- so cute when I hit you deep baby, you look so blissed out."
"You take my dick like a champ, sweet girl. mhm, and you make me feel so good."
"Shh, suck on my fingers, like that. You have to be quieter, or the neighbors will complain about you again. I don't know what their deal is because you sound gorgeous."
"Take what you deserve, it's all for you. It's all for you... I'm so proud of you, baby."
"I love when you moan with your pussy in my mouth. Tell me more, sweetheart, let me hear what I'm doing to you."
"Right there? Hm? Yeah, I know. I know but 'm gonna fuck my shape into this pussy. I'm sorry, I know, keep cumming that's it. I'm not done yet."
Yeosang
Quiet, demanding, straightforward, much like he knows what he wants and always gets it
"Let me fuck you on your stomach, I know you'll cum the whole time if I do."
"C'mon get a grip, you're drooling all over my pillow, we just started, sweetheart."
"Keep your eyes on me. What did I say? Don't you wanna cum? I won't make you cum if you don't look at me."
"If you keep pushing back on my stomach, I'll bend you over and make you be still. Don't test me, love."
"You're not in charge here, sweetheart, lose the attitude before I fuck it out of you."
"I could do whatever I want to you, and you'd still thank me for it, wouldn't you, angel? My grateful girl, feel me give you what you need."
"You know how to do it, don't act like you don't. Smart girls like you shouldn't need reminders. Play with yourself, I'll wait."
"Why am I not moaning? Because I'm busy talking to you, angel. Don't be rude. Take this dick and talk to your boyfriend. You can multitask."
"I know I'm fucking you slow, but it's the only way you'll feel each and every part of me in that cunt. Dragging out your orgasms makes this so fun, pretty."
"If you pass out, I'll just fuck you back awake, I promise, baby. You won't miss me too much."
Yunho
degrading, objectively, mockingly, much like he knows better than you.
"You don't get to decide anything. I do what I want, and you'll like it anyway."
"Aw, fuck baby... those marks are gonna turn such pretty colors against your skin. Yeah, you'll wear them proudly for me?"
"Stupid slut, willing to humiliate yourself for me? Fuck you're addicting."
"Every time I slap you, you clench around my dick. That's kinda fucked up, baby. If I choke you, will you cum so hard you piss yourself?"
"Oh, but you like it this deep, baby. I know you, you like having your cunt stuffed full and your head emptied."
"Oh, you're so sad, beautiful. I love when you're sad, cause I can fuck it out of you, fuck you till you're so empty and all you can think of is me."
"Needy things like you need to be roughed up every once in a while, helps readjust that bratty attitude you like to get your way with."
"c'mon princess, tell me you love me. Tell me you love me, and I might kiss you. Would the bruises feel better if I kissed you?"
"Mm, I fucking love splitting this cunt open. So wet and so pretty, so beat up. What would you do without me?"
"You're learning so fast, baby, I bet you love that you can't cum without my permission. You are bound to me through your body."
Wooyoung
teasing, playful, bully-like, much like he finds your pleasure amusing
"C'mon say it into my mouth. 'Wooyoung...' like that. Let me taste my name on your tongue while I play with you."
"Good girl, good girl, yeah, you feel full? That's so cute, you have no idea all the things I can make you feel. i wanna drive you fucking crazy."
"You like when I whine for you. Pretty boy, pretty voice, yeah? You love being fucked by someone just as pretty as you."
"You're trembling, isn't that precious. Don't be so greedy, baby, I have all day to string you out."
"I know you're trying so hard for me to not cum, but I hate playing fair. I want you to fail. If I pinch your clit, will you fall apart?"
"Don't worry, I'll cover your mouth so you don't embarrass yourself. Yeah, there you go, now just focus on me hitting that spot."
"Let me see those pretty teeth you like to bite me with. Smile when I'm dicking you down, dollface, let me know that pussy feels good."
"You sure you don't like it when I make fun of you? My dick is so wet I keep slipping out. Mhm, I think someone likes being bullied."
"I love taking you against the wall. I can invade all your personal space, make you feel so trapped."
"I love it when you cum, and it makes me even fucking harder when I know you can't run from it."
Jongho
indifferent, lofty, careless, like he’s oblivious to the way he makes you feel
"I'm barely fucking you, and you seem so out of it. Don't tell me I've broken you."
"You don't know what's good for you, doll, c'mon let me do what I want. It might even feel good."
"You might be sore in the morning, but you're willing to make that sacrifice for me, aren't you, honey?"
"Hush, don't tell me you can't. No one wants to hear that, you can and you will."
"Why're you moaning so loud, hm? What if I grind into you? Will you quiet down?"
"C'mon, let's count, maybe it'll help you focus. Ground yourself, we've got a long way to go."
"You get so loud when I slap your clit, who knew you'd be so impolite. You hardly even fight, so pliant."
"You're mine. Your body does what I tell it to. Isn't that pathetic? So easily conditioned to me."
"Don't fight it, honey, cum. Let go so I can get back to teasing you until you cry. I love when you cry, it makes me so fucking hard."
Mingi
vulgar, unashamed, attentive, much like there’s no place he would rather be
"Oh, baby... feel every inch of me, arch that back, get me deeper. just like that."
"You're so small, I wanna crush you. You're so fucking cute, you make me lightheaded."
"I'm in your stomach? Oh, I'm sorry, baby. What if I pout? Will you forgive me? I'm so sorry. What if I pound that pussy harder, hm? How bout now, still mad at me, gorgeous?
"You're so warm around my dick... you're everything. Oh my fuck."
"Slow down? hm? Make me. Stop me, baby, you know what to do. I'm too heavy? not my problem."
"I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna take my time with you. imma give it to you the way you like."
"Don't tap, no running. You feel too good, baby. You hear how wet you sound?"
"Feel my hands, I got you. I'm holding you, baby; you aren't going anywhere. Ride it out for me."
"Moan my name properly, c'mon. You choke every time I fuck back into you; you're making me sad here, beautiful."
"I am being nice to you, mami. There's nobody nicer than me who can make this pussy cream all over your sheets."
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. DEAD DOVE DONT EAT. NON-CON. captive reader, age gap (san described as "old" with greying hair), dacryphilia, cunnilingus, fingering, overstimulation, piss kink (him drankin it), unprotected p->v. ♡masterlist + navigation !♡
Good girls get privileges. Good girls get to use the shower without Sannie watching them. Get to have snacks without asking permission. Good girls get outside time in the sun. Being a good girl means doing as Sannie says. "One more for me, baby," he moans against you.
You don't know if you physically can. He's stolen orgasm after orgasm from you just like he had stolen you away from the world. "San..." You whine, "please... no more."
He's been lying on his stomach between your legs for hours now, a pool of arousal and spit below you on the soft cotton sheets of his bed. Your cunt burns with overstimulation. Your legs are like jelly as they twitch. Your entire body is slick with a sheen of sweat. "One more," his fingers, previously idle inside of you, start curling and hooking into that special, swollen, spot inside of you.
He's been at it so long that you have to use the bathroom now, and you doubt he'll stop if you say anything. But it's either piss yourself or piss yourself with permission, so — "Sannie, I have to- to pee."
"Do you?" You can feel the sick grin on his face as he presses his lips to your abused clit, "maybe I should let you up..."
"Mhm!" You bite your lip as he speeds up his fingers, clenching around them to try and hold your bladder. The squelching is loud and lewd as he works your insides. "Sannie!"
"Or maybe not... What to do, what to do..." he trails on, laughing as you grip at his greying hair. "I know," he slams your hips back down as you lift them, glaring up at you deadly serious. "Piss in my mouth."
"You old fuc-freaking perv," you hiss as he pulls his fingers out quickly, getting a steady grip on both your hips. Good girls watch their language. "Let me up."
"Don't make me hold you down again. That's no fun." You fall flat at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. Good girls let Sannie play with them how he wants.
"That's so nasty," you try to change his mind, but it's made up.
"Good girls do nasty things. Earn back your privileges." You weigh your options — as if you really have a choice. His hand snakes around to your stomach and starts pressing just over your bladder, making the tears in your eyes slip down your face as you tense up. "Just let it go, baby." And let it go you do, sobbing as you relieve yourself into his awaiting mouth.
You're too busy being a mess of wrecked sobs to notice when he finally gets up, fisting his hard length as he watches you hug yourself for comfort after the humiliating act of pissing into your captors mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut as his shadow looms over you, blocking the low light of the lamp and casting you in his darkness while he situates himself above you. "See?" He moans deep in his throat as he sinks into your twitching heat, "being a good girl is easy."
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if you're too shy. i the sun. baby if it feels good.
author favorite similar: my heart belongs to daddy
i momentarily dragged myself out of my rut and this was the result. yes the title is based off poppy's song. yes there's blasphemy. ofc its not proofread, what are you nuts?
priest!yunho x f!reader
content: early 1800's setting, corruption, choking, begging, idolization, use of "father"
wc: 2k
thinking about yunho...
“f-forgive me!”
a deep, heavy nudge in your belly.
“again. like you’re counting.”
the confessional rattled with every movement; the small space felt like the wood was melting with your skin. hot and static, the air could snap from the tension.
you came to the church to speak with father jeong about the flower arrangements for the upcoming village wedding, which was always the rage every month, and your biggest profit week. arranged marriages were common, and there seemed to be one every few weeks. you always accommodated the flowers like the sweet girl you were. you had never gotten so lucky in the marriage mart, even though you are still somewhat "freshly bloomed" at a ripe twenty years.
it was raining, awfully so. it was rather late when you decided to stop by the church, but you had been out at the time, purchasing some more seeds at the market when the sky opened up.
and to be frank, the church was much shorter of a walk in comparison to home. so, soaked to the bone with your clothes sticking to you like cobwebs, you made yourself at home.
the cathedral doors shut behind you, heavy and rumbling, fading in with the angry thunder that roared beyond them. the air was stagnant, and it was so quiet you could hear the flickering of the candle flames below the altarpiece.
he heard the doors from his office, the familiar thud distinguishable from the thunder to him.
he was in no hurry, walking leisurely to the front of the church, and by the time he opened the door to the nave, you had already made your pretty little way up the altar steps, curiously poking your nose by the confessional.
“can i help you?” he bellowed. he didn’t really, but the echo in the room nearly sent your skin sliding off your neck.
you squeaked embarrassingly enough, whipping your body around speedily and meeting his low-set gaze in a panic. Tall, dark, a secret third thing.
“i’m sorry, father!” you bowed your head respectfully. “i hope i didn’t startle you. i wanted to ask more about the flowers you requested for the wedding arrangement. if you don’t… mind?”
you hadn’t thought you were rambling, but maybe you were. you tend not to mind yourself. father jeong seemed rather distracted.
his gaze was trained low, pupils branding holes onto your thighs. your sheer linen dress dripped with rainwater and clung to the soft, bare skin beneath. the beautiful color seeping through the wet window, the candlelight catching the shape of you.
god, he couldn’t look away.
you had no clue what was going on with him or what he was thinking. the uncertainty in your voice made something in his blood shift.
“—ther?”
sound reentered his world. yunho blinked once, twice. he slowly dragged his eyes up your body, taking his sweet, selfish time until his eyes locked with your confused ones.
“yes?” he smiled, tilting his head like a dog that’s gotten caught digging a hole under the fence. his voice was much lower now, carrying with it a warm feeling in your stomach that screamed at you to… offer something.
“the arrangements?” you question softly, your voice meek. you take a small step back, and your shoulder brushes the confessional.
his eyes move like lasers to where you grazed the wood, and you see something in his head click. and like a switch flipped in his mind, he straightened and offered his hand to you politely.
“of course we can talk!” he replied loftily, and you slowly reached out your hand. his, cold and large, slid up your wrist and pulled you closer before enveloping your hand when he had you a foot away.
“i would love nothing more than to discuss it with you.” his cadence slipped, and his thumb stroked ever so lightly over the top of your knuckles.
discussing became teasing, then persuasion, and you weren’t sure what to call the last thing, but if there was a word for it, you’re sure to have forgotten it by now.
you remembered the word “please.”
“sin” was a hard one to forget. “father,” and “forgive” were top contenders you reached for the most.
every now and then you’d let a little “god” slip, and yunho would waste no time in digging his nails into your scalp where his fist was buried in your frizzy hair, seething behind his teeth with a venomous groan as he shoves his cock so far up into you it it makes your nails drag hard enough against the splintery, fragrant wood you nails split and your fingertips began to bleed.
“to me.” his command falls from his mouth angrily, enveloped in a low moan. “talk to me. beg me for forgiveness, baby. i’m the only one who’ll be willing to give it to you.”
he had you chanting it like a mantra, legs spread, feet planted on the floor. your damp and cold dress bunched at your hips, your soft legs shaking in pleasure.
the fingers of his right hand curled deep into your hair, his other hand cupped around the front of your throat, pulling you back into a beautiful arch.
the confessional door was locked tight, trapping the heat of the moment and the desperate pleas inside. you could feel the zipper of yunho’s pants scraping against your bare skin each time he filled you up again.
powerful, deep strokes, slow and intentional, he unraveled your body in that confession. you had drool and tears all over the valley of your breast where he ripped open your bodice in a scary kind of hunger.
your collarbones and neck littered in pretty dark marks, footpaths left in the wake of his mouth. he had no mercy.
your moans poured out into the empty nave, your sad voice bouncing off the red velvet pews and against glass-stained walls.
his pretty pink tip repeatedly caught against that ridge deep in your cunt that made you feel like he was trying to pull you apart from the inside out. the veins that ran up his length grazed your walls as they tried to suck his dick back in each time his thrusts retreated.
his growls made your eyes roll, each thrust of his cock purposeful and long, leaving no spot untouched. his hand on your throat pulled a little more, craning your head back a little more until you could see his face.
the flimsy white collared shirt he was wearing was half unbuttoned, giving you a beautiful view of the top of his stomach where his body rolled with each drag in your pussy. it shot your sensitivity up tenfold.
“o-oh mmf-my god-“
yunho cleared his throat loudly and bottomed out, keeping still as he slowly rotated his hips to circle his tip over that spot so perfect it made you almost smile in bliss.
his nails in your scalp slowly retreated, letting your head fall forward and limp against the wooden wall with a thud. you choked and sputtered, and yunho bit his tongue trying to restrain himself when your pussy spasmed around him.
“listen, and listen well, sweetheart.” he leaned his head down and pressed such a soft, sleepy kiss against your neck, trailing it down your shoulder. his free hand played with the fluffy sleeve of your dress, ghosting up your arm and up the side of your neck.
“god is not here.” he whispers in a cold, yet soft tone. “it’s you, and me.”
you were swimming in his voice, lost in the baritone waves of it, you hardly noticed the hand trailing up your arm had cupped over the other he had on your throat, and only when he pulled your head back with the strength of both of his arms by your fragile little neck, did it register with you that there might be chance you would not make it out of here on working legs tonight.
he leaned down and pressed his lips flat against your ear, and his hips began to move again. loud, heavy slaps began to fill your ears as yunho wasted no time and fucking you just the way he believed you deserved. not such an angelic little flower girl anymore.
“so do us a big, bigggg favor, sweetheart, and tell father yunho how good you feel. convince me to forgive you, and i might let you cum.”
with every thrust, he changed the angle until he found the best one to pound your g-spot into oblivion, so his balls would smack against your slippery clit with every stroke.
your moans broke and choked, your voice faint and breathy from the hold his hands levered on your throat. it bobbed against his palm, and it made his dick twitch inside of you.
“beg me.” he bites, sinking his teeth into your earlobe.
you spit the words out around a shaky moan. “forgive me!”
“again.” he pulled your head back further, his voice teetering on something dangerously possessive.
“f-forgive me!”
“prettier.” he knew how to make you sound prettier. he let up the grip on your neck just long enough to let him bite your jaw and shove his dick into your stomach in one long thrust.
“forgive me!” your voice was clearer, whinier, and he had forced such a pretty moan out of you, he needed this to over so he could get some more sounds out of you with some experimenting.
“that’s it, baby.” he groans, picking up his pace earnestly. “keep it up, run that throat raw for me.”
with every thrust, you whimpered helpless cries for forgiveness, the evidence of your bliss wracking each syllable. yunho gnawed on his bottom lip, his grin teasing and lusty as he watched your ass bounce off him.
your words blended, and your syllables slurred the more and more he chipped at parts of your brain. the filling drags of his cock inside of you, forcing your calves to lock up.
yunho pulls your neck up until your back is flat against his chest, your head hanging back over his shoulder, your eyes glued to the ceiling of the confessional.
one hand remained cupped over your throat, the other slid up under your dress until his huge hand palmed flat over your lower stomach, keeping your torso up and leaving a warm pressure on your belly, forcing you further back on his dick.
you groan loudly as he begins to fuck you hard and steadily, smiling against your heated ears.
“c’mon, baby, you wanna cum? let’s cum, yeah?” he teases you with a playful lilt in his voice. “begged so pretty for me, i almost think you deserve it.”
you nodded at nothing in particular, blind to the way endless slick rivered down your inner thighs at the thought of yunho letting you cum.
he never even confirmed what color roses he wanted for the wedding. it seems you both got somewhat distracted.
your orgasm was blinding, but enough that yunho could feel your breathing halt from the inside out. he praised you with a deep laugh and a sharp thrust.
“that’s right, baby, cum all over it. i’m gonna make you get on your knees and lick up your mess off that expensive velvet you’ve ruined with this nasty cunt.”
he drags his hand on your stomach down and lands a slap on your clit, and your body jerks.
your mouth moves before your brain can protest.
“i love you!” you cry, perhaps in that moment, mistaking him for god.
he did not miss a beat, falling back into a slow rhythm of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm. “aww, you love me, baby? that’s cute.” he lets go of your neck, and you fall forward again, catching yourself on your hands against the wall.
he lands a slap against your ass as he slips his soaked cock out of your warm pussy.
“now go lie on your back out on the aisle floor.” he instructs with a shake in his voice, like he was holding back. like it was taking every fiber of his being not to snatch you up by your throat and fuck you like an animal that knows it’ll be dead by morning.
and like injured prey, you follow obediently, only praying he’ll let you cum again, with a meek and hopeful, “yes, father.”
he rewards your enthusiastic obedience with a gentle, animatic pet under your chin and the softest of smiles.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔ FLESHLIGHT, FLESHBRIGHT ⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
using a fleshlight on atz! (m!reader)
unfortunate souls: ot8
synopsis: scenarios in which you use a fleshlight on the teezers
before you dive in! 3.2k, nsfw hcs, transparent fleshlights bc they’re freaky, masturbation, overstim, edging, cuckholding themes for seonghwa's, chestfucking for yeosang’s (but no true chest desc – just implied his are bigger than urs lol but fairly vague)
took me three centuries to churn this outttt.... anyways this is relatively gn but seonghwa's section makes specific mention of you being his boyfriend (so ive, as per usual, labeled it m!reader). not proofread, im finishing this up at 1:50am </3
(also shoutout @/yeonlymine for her ateez fleshlight post (f!reader fyi) i came across a few months back ... neuron rearrangement from that wooyoung section loovvvveeeeee the way she characterized him)
HONGJOONG .𖥔 ܁ ˖
he’s sitting in the studio late into the night, hair unkempt, breathing ragged as the ferocity of your movements intensify. his jeans are bunching around his upper thigh, ass threatening to touch the leather of his seat, clammy hands sticking to the material like melted gum.
you’re perched behind him, comfortably draped over the top of his black swivel chair, curve of your arm cascading down into his lap. you’ve been at this for roughly 20 minutes now, initiated on some ‘stress relief’ bullshit. but hongjoong’s eyebrows are furrowed so hard he’s probably going to get a headache afterwards.
owns a fleshlight — was trying to keep it a secret from you, his sober mind regarding masturbation as a solitary act
when you find it (you were cleaning) (cleaning his room specifically) (transparent? really?), you try your damndest not to bring it up, knowing for certain he’d kill you as soon as he got the chance
so you spring it on him: crawl into his studio while he’s working (late as usual), ask some questions about what he’s doing to throw him off when you start for his fly
and hongjoong loves when you come to the studio just to play with his dick, you know that. so it’s the perfect way to catch him off guard, get his dick out, get it aching with a few tweaks of your wrist, and then submerge it in silicone
literal hot fucking mess — noisy, cut-off, choking on his own whimpering; unable to get out more than a syllable
his eyes remain squeezed shut the entire time, like he’s imagining it’s actually you, not some toy — incapable of looking at you, head thrown back like he’s trying to get away (and yet, he doesn’t pull you off, doesn’t tell you to stop)
starts grabbing at you towards the end, grip bruising where it strangles your wrist; “i’m— i’m gonna c— cum— gonna cum— cumming—!”
has enough sense to almost toss his soundboard off his desk before his hips keen and he’s geyser-ing all over his jeans, over the seat cushion, nearly spilling on the floor; slumps back on the chair and for a solid 4 second you think you've fucking killed him; takes a full minute to come to and suddenly he's scolding you
would still prefer you around him than a toy (but you know it’s because he’d have more control over himself with his hands grounded on your waist)
SEONGHWA ⋆˚✿˖°
seonghwa ordered you to look at him the entire time he was sheathed in the picture-perfect toy, and you were anything but disobedient. you don’t quite remember what got you in this situation in the first place, but you’ll have to think of it quick, because if seonghwa asks you and you don’t have an answer, you’ll be at this all night.
and there’s nothing that ticks you off more than seonghwa making noises over some stupid fleshlight when he could’ve been fucking into your hole. your mouth. shit, you’d rather him use your hand if that’s what he really wanted—anything. worse yet, you’re the one with the fleshlight in his hand.
owns a fleshlight, has a nice little case for it so it doesn’t collect dust.
for backup purposes primarily—if he has to use it, that means you’ve been neglecting him and ur a horrible boyfriend and you should be ashamed
and now he’s clenching his jaw while he listens to a voice memo you sent him a bit ago, the fleshlight taking the brunt of his cock
the following night, seonghwa asks you to come to his room, which you do. you weren’t really prepared for the sight of him naked on his bed, but you’re not one to complain
however, you are one to complain when he asks you to fetch something from his drawer and it’s a toy.
you’re still clothed as you angle the fleshlight for his cock to pierce, your lip pursed as he slides in with practiced ease, making the same exact sounds he would’ve made had it been you instead of silicone
groans about how soft the plastic feels, how it sucks him in so readily, how it feels like it was molded to the shape of his cock; “so good for me. knows just how to take me.”
looks you dead in the eyes when he’s halfway there, hair sticking to his forehead: “d’you have a preference, honey? throat or some other hole? which would you rather replace this toy with?”
he’s not cruel, though—comforts you after he’s filled the fleshlight, assures you he’s not actually upset; allows you to cockwarm him while he rests his eyes—an offer you readily jump at
YUNHO ༄.°
he lays himself back on the bed, arms up and cushioning his head in addition to the pillows below. you’re hovering over him, straddling his long body, his legs drifting past where you’ve grounded your knees. him way too relaxed and you way too high-strung.
yunho should be grateful he found the toy as quickly as he did, or that he had one in the first place, because the strength of your grip around it is bruising (and at this rate you would’ve gladly subjected his dick to it).
the normalest about his fleshlight habits. except i lied because his favorite thing to do is use it when he sends you voice memos while you’re conveniently in public
“hey, babe. you coming home soon?” he asks in the sweetest voice he can manage, sound of his lube-slick dick stretching out the plastic as background music
worse yet, he won’t bring it up unless you do it first. you’ll find him lounging on the couch watching tv like he hadn’t sent you personalized audio porn a few hours ago
“where’s your fleshlight,” you ask (but it’s said with the force of a demand) one day after he accompanied his voice memo with a picture (one that really emphasized his long fingers and flushed out cock). he’s blinking up at you like he has no clue what’s got you so tense.
you’re annoyed with the way he so easily pulls his cock out for you to torture, laid out on the bed like there are no hard feelings, his smile candid as he pumps himself from chub to upright
grinning like an idiot the whole time, staring right at you, eyes darting across your pretty face like he’s enamored—he can’t believe what’s happening to him
gets so delirious from the whole ordeal he starts laughing, cannot help himself, just like how he can’t help the way his body squirms and bucks into the wetness of the toy
doesn’t do anything he knows would make you snap at him, until he’s finally seeing your hand shake from continued effort, your shoulders beginning to slack—wraps his fingers around the base of your neck, pulling you closer so he can smile into your fidgeting lips
that’s how he finishes—your lips locked, eyes shut as your hand renews it’s speed, yunho’s spidery digits taking a firmer grasp of your upper spine as he cums onto his shirt, both of you too preoccupied by each other’s mouths to really care
YEOSANG ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
you don’t really remember who brought it up first. maybe it was because you joked about fuckable his tits were (you called them tits) (yeosang looked around the room with a hand over his mouth like there was an audience ready to laugh) (cocked his head like it was a challenge)
he’s straddling your torso, strong thighs trapping you in place (not like you’d move anyway). his veiny hands lay flat against your ribcage, fingers splayed out on either side of the fleshlight, which he’s situated above your sternum. the rock of his hips knocks the air out of your lungs, the pace slowly but surely picking up.
thinks you seeing what toys he uses is too incriminating
regards masturbation as a primarily private practice—closest you’ve gotten is him jerking off in front of you just to get himself ready
the whole chestfucking thing happened weeks ago—you don’t even remember cracking the vulgar joke (yeosang did)
so when he pushes you down on his bed, weight of his tongue still tingling on your own, poking out of his unbuttoned pants, you’re confused when he reaches for his nightstand
even more so when you see him take out a see-through fleshlight, but you don’t really have time to ponder the possibilities cuz he’s placing the toy atop your sternum and fishing himself out of his briefs
and soon he’s rutting into the silicone, you below, taking the brunt of the thrusts; his knees sit right outside your arms, effectively securing you—one hand on the toy, another fisting the pillow beneath your head
and you’re breathless—quite literally. he’s staring right at you as he humps, the head sometimes poking out if he goes deep enough, pausing momentarily to let the precum bead and eventually drip onto your skin
your shirts bunched up by your throat, like a shameful necklace, and you have to physically stop yourself from letting your mouth hang open
yeosang finishes on your chest, his arms close to trembling as he holds himself upright, looming over your heaving form (once he comes to he’ll ask if you’d like to switch)
SAN ⟡ ݁₊ .
san’s hand is crushing your shoulder, to keep you in place, to keep your lips against his, but also to steady himself. the wet, sloppy sounds resonating throughout the bedroom are half from you moving your hand and half from san’s hips jerking upwards with both intention and mindless spasms of his fucked-out cock.
but he keeps going—mumbling about how he just needs one more, that he can take it. and he’s came so many times already, spilling out and soaking your enclosed hand, that it’s going to smell like his spunk for days even after you use scented soap.
owns a fleshlight (translucent and tinted purple), but doesn’t use it very frequently — “i have you ♡” he sings, hands wrapped around your waist, tone sickenly saccharine
would sometimes make a cameo in videos he’d send you when you left him alone for too long; his face barely visible save for his slack-jaw, focused on his tensed stomach and the pretty little toy he’s pretending is you
it’s your idea to be present the next time he uses it, though he makes a bit of a fuss, whining about why he can’t just use you; forgets all about it once the toy’s around him and you’re snuggled into his side, kissing at his jaw
sensitive to a fault, whimpers as it sheaths him, but desperate to remain focused on the action (eyes threatening to close from the sensations, mouth hung open—gaze locked all the same)
your original plan was just one orgasm—watch from beside him, mouth at his neck in encouragement. but it’s never that simple with san. you’re a bystander to his self-induced overstimulation, to his gasping, to his momentary twitch and spurt before he’s bucking at renewed speeds: “one more. please, i need it.”
and by his third one he’s begging for you to hold the toy instead. you oblige—don’t realize it’s a trap until you switch his hand with yours and suddenly san’s reaching for you
has his arms wrapped around your neck for the last round, open-mouth moaning down your throat like it’ll muffle the sound; thrusting harshly if your movement stills, threatening to fuck the silicone toy right out of your grip
and he comes a final, fourth time—laving at your tongue, close to head-locking you when his arms tense, eyes lidded but zeroed in on your equally flush face
still prefers having you on his cock, and will suggest you go one more time so he can feel you instead (you adamantly refuse) (...maybe in half an hour)
MINGI ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
mingi on top of you could mean a multitude of things: a) he’s riding the shit out of you, b) he’s fucking the shit out of you, c) he rolled over in his sleep and now you’ve got five seconds of oxygen left before you blackout
he had a habit of wanting to fuck right before bed. you didn’t really mind—indulged him most nights, usually ending in the best sleep of your life. but some nights he gets home a little too late, and you’re halfway to dreamland when he starts pawing at you like a cat in heat. but leave it to mingi to have a workaround.
owns one — usually uses it before bed after a hard day of working if he can manage the energy (helps him wind down—knocks out right after he cums, barely able to muster up the strength to clean himself; sometimes just licks his hand clean and calls it a night)
you’re laid in bed, on the precipice of deep sleep. you hear the bedroom door squeak open, hallway light briefly illuminating the dark space as you assume mingi’s arrived to take his rightful place at your cozy side.
and that he does, sneaking under the blanket after changing out of his outdoor clothes (aka shucking them all off and climbing into bed in his briefs)
he presses a wet kiss to the back of your neck as he spoons you, making you purr—pressing back into him, burying yourself in his broad chest
not even a minute later mingi’s mouthing at your pulse, something solid rutting into your ass
“mingi—,” you groan, voice caked with fatigue, muffled by the pillow so the syllables of his name are mashed into a singular, pained sound. i’m too tired, is your reply to his cockhead poking you
one second he’s begging you for access, the next he’s crushing you beneath him, chest flush with your back, the fleshlight situated between your thighs
it's probably the roughest he’s been with you in a while, his hot panting hitting the shell of your ear as he humps you hard enough to make your breath catch and the bed frame shudder
your body is tingling by the time he’s finished, a frantic hand dipping down to catch his own spurts of cum. the hand disappears behind you, and you’re frozen stiff as you listen to him clean his fingers
WOOYOUNG ⋆⭒˚.⋆
you’re both upright on the bed, wooyoung’s fingernails digging into the fabric of your shirt. his heads tilted downwards, damp forehead almost connecting with yours, watching his cock slide in-and-out of the see-through toy. watching you pump him into near-insanity, deliberately in the motions, the arcs.
and yet, despite it all, he has the nerve—the gall—to gaze up at you. eyes lidded, boring into you. the smile playing at his lips is faint yet wicked all the same. daring. you’ve got the toy, you’re controlling the speed, but all his face says is ‘try me’.
owns a fleshlight, not secretive at all about it (sends you vids of him fucking it, will let himself “be caught” using it, totally chill with leaving it out n’ about—both used and unused)
but, depending on his mood, he’ll say shit like “why would i use that when i’ve got a perfectly good toy right here?” and then proceed to either grope or slap your ass. or both.
and you “catch” him once again — completely naked on his bed, resting back like it’s all chill and cool, hand tucked under his head while he fucks into his fleshlight (you knocked) (he’s catching your wandering eyes as soon as you walk through the door)
so you play along with his stupid fucking game — plop down on the bed (much to his delight) and watch
he’s squirming almost immediately, just to get on your nerves, shimmying himself into a more voyeur-friendly position; one foot perched firmly on your thigh, other thrown out wide so you can see everything
and of course he ends up getting what he wants, because everyone’s weak to wooyoung. that’s how you end up breathing in his moans, hand gripping the fleshlight like you want to crush this stupid fucking dick, your face dangerously close (pun intended) to his smug one
you’d started completely dressed, ending up disheveled from wooyoung trying to genuinely rip your clothes clean off your body (he did not succeed, leaving you with a rumpled shirt and the neckline stretching over your shoulder)
“you like me like this, huh? you’re such a fucking pervert,” he says as he lets out a porny moan, bucking upwards and aiming for you as his cum spurts out and over the translucent toy. glances you up and down: "you gonna clean that up? or should i?"
JONGHO ❀˖°
if you wanted to play with his dick, you could’ve just given him a regular ol’ handjob. or sucked him off, y’know. nothing this mortifying (though he’d never outright let you know that). especially if you were going to end up on your knees anyway.
jongho’s sat at the edge of his bed, you peering up at him from the carpeted floor below, hand steadily stroking him, a fleshlight separating the warmth of your palm from his thick cock. your eyes are wide, searching, taking in every subtle twitch or contortion of his face.
owns one. feels no need to tell you about it. masturbation is private to him, not something he really cares to share; he’ll palm himself in front of you to tease, but expects you to actually jerk him off
so you asking him if you can use a fleshlight on him bring him pause—why would you wanna do that when you can just jerk him off like normal? but you’re flashing him this look (and promising him he can do whatever he wants next time)
you’re situated like any other night: on your knees, gazing up adoringly at jongho; him seated, dick out, your hand wrapped around him. it’s just that a toy’s been added to the mix
his eyebrows are furrowed in effort, like he’s trying to hold back the groans bubbling up in the back of his throat. and the twist of your hand is trying its hardest to wring them out
in the sweetest voice you can manage, you assure him, it’s okay to give in. jongho makes a face at you, halfway to a scowl. then he stares, flitting across your facial features for a few silent, foreboding seconds
“shit,” he mutters before laying back on his elbows and letting out a well deserved, full-body shudder—you’ve won.
jongho spends the rest of the time sighing into the near-quiet of his bedroom, save for the wet sound of his cock in the fleshlight; you now standing so you can better watch him come apart, still trying to salvage his pride
at one point, you ask if he’s okay with you climbing over him (he twitches in response, cum beading out of the toy, but tells you to fuck off) (you don’t push, decide instead to sit besides him for better access)
when he cums, it's like nothing you’ve ever seen before; subdued, yet powerful the way he twitches. his last chance at fleeting dominance manifests in the rough seizing of your hand, demanding you to still. and you do, peppering kisses across his abdomen. jongho murmurs softly in response (he pulls you up to his face and you realize the murmuring is actually a warning of what’s to come "next time")
I literally have, in my intro post at the bottom, a link to multiple posts about how she lied to me, about me, and to the people around her. She is a problem.
WHAT THE HELL DID I DO I JUST USE THIS APP TO READ AMAZING FIXS BRO 💔 "fuck you too" no FUCK YOU STINKY HOE?? Got an issue come say it to my fucking face instead of adding me to your petty fuck you list because you got called out for being a snarky cunt x
No cause this is how I feel like, you're 19. You're legally a grown adult but you're acting like a child. It's been so long since I've even thought about her but she clearly still thinks about me. If she has problems then she needs to come to me and say that shit like girl, get a grip. Odd ass behavior
I literally have, in my intro post at the bottom, a link to multiple posts about how she lied to me, about me, and to the people around her. She is a problem.
WHAT THE HELL DID I DO I JUST USE THIS APP TO READ AMAZING FIXS BRO 💔 "fuck you too" no FUCK YOU STINKY HOE?? Got an issue come say it to my fucking face instead of adding me to your petty fuck you list because you got called out for being a snarky cunt x
No cause this is how I feel like, you're 19. You're legally a grown adult but you're acting like a child. It's been so long since I've even thought about her but she clearly still thinks about me. If she has problems then she needs to come to me and say that shit like girl, get a grip. Odd ass behavior
I literally have, in my intro post at the bottom, a link to multiple posts about how she lied to me, about me, and to the people around her. She is a problem.
WHAT THE HELL DID I DO I JUST USE THIS APP TO READ AMAZING FIXS BRO 💔 "fuck you too" no FUCK YOU STINKY HOE?? Got an issue come say it to my fucking face instead of adding me to your petty fuck you list because you got called out for being a snarky cunt x
I literally have, in my intro post at the bottom, a link to multiple posts about how she lied to me, about me, and to the people around her. She is a problem.
WHAT THE HELL DID I DO I JUST USE THIS APP TO READ AMAZING FIXS BRO 💔 "fuck you too" no FUCK YOU STINKY HOE?? Got an issue come say it to my fucking face instead of adding me to your petty fuck you list because you got called out for being a snarky cunt x
1. “She's been dragging all of my moots into drama that could have been solved in within five minutes”
2. “But she got into a relationship and I told her I was taking a step back from our friendship so she can focus on her and her bf and she went off on a fuckin nut about it”
“Made a huge deal over and went to all of my closest moots”
This was the only thing I believe I had texted any one of her moots about the whole situation. If the person I sent this to wants to get involved, pls lmk and I'll name you.
“Hii, I know we only ever interacted a few times but I know that you're close with Lexi and IDK if this is rude but I wanted to ask if you had any sort of like... Idea why Lexi is... Like IDK she said she isn't mad but her posts seem like she is”
Not only that but.. I went off my nut?? Babes here are the SS of me trying to talk to you and you ignoring me. Make it make sense🤔🤔🤔 remember, YOU went public about it first.
3. “She is a poser, she's also one of the ones who have been taking my content, and trying to be me in general”
Here are 2(two) screen shots of me giving you credit for this idea AND a 3rd (third) SS of me giving you credit AFTER you blocked me.
Second post coming soon with more SS
Edit: These lies that she was spreading about both of us, they aren't a fucking joke. The lies she was saying could very much have followed us into our real lives and been detrimental to us. All because she decided to lie for no good reason. This is so much bigger than Tumblr drama. She could have genuinely ruined a life and she doesn't care.
⌇warnings: lil plot, smut, explicit nsfw, hormonal mood swings, crying/sobbing, ovulation horny desperation, p in v, oral (f!receiving), discharge eating (he's a greedy boy in this!!), fingering, body worship, begging, dirty talk, light choking, creampie, overstimulation, clingy needy behavior, messy, slight bleeding post-sex, affectionate aftercare, comfort sex, teasing, soft dom/sub vibes, slow soft orgasm, casual humor, soft praise, san is so bf here
⌇tysm for all the love on my recent works, it means the world--so here's a sannie one for yall <33
The rain had been coming down for hours. You watched it trickle down the glass, grey sky split with flickers of pale lightning every so often, the house dim except for the kitchen light left on above the sink.
The sound of the storm had long since faded into background noise, white noise for the ache growing in your stomach.
It wasn’t the cramps that had started it, not really. It was the need.
You were ovulating. You knew your body like clockwork. Your skin was flushed, your nipples stiff under your shirt for no reason, and the ridiculous amount of slick between your thighs had you changing your underwear twice today already.
But that wasn’t the worst part; the worst part was how empty you felt.
Three weeks. That’s how long it had been since you last saw him. Since you’d last touched him. Since you’d heard that particular rasp in his voice when he pressed you into the mattress and told you how sweet you were when you cried.
Now he was finally coming home.
You curled your fingers around the warm mug in your hands and tried not to squirm on the couch. Tried not to think about how the crotch part of your sleep shorts was already damp. Tried not to think about how your body didn’t just miss him, it was screaming for him.
You wanted him, not just for the way he touched you, but because you needed the quiet comfort of having him near, his presence like a tether to hold you steady.
You didn’t hear the key turn, you only heard the door click open.
Then a warm voice, familiar, hoarse with exhaustion and soaked in affection.
“Baby, I’m home.”
The mug slipped from your fingers and clattered onto the coffee table, sloshing tea across the surface. You shot up from the couch without thinking, and the second your eyes met his across the living room, you ran.
San caught you mid-jump, arms wrapping around you like instinct. You crashed into him with a breathless laugh, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.
God, he smelled like the rain, leather and laundry, and just a hint of sweat.
“I missed you,” you whispered into his shoulder. “I missed you so fucking much.”
“I missed you more,” he said, setting his bag down and squeezing you tighter. “Every day. Every city.”
You could feel it already, the tension pulling taut between you, like a bowstring straining under pressure.
He leaned back slightly to look at you. You must’ve looked a mess, skin flushed, lips bitten, your shirt rumpled and sleeves pulled down over your hands. His eyes softened.
“Hey,” he said, voice lower now, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lied. But the tremble in your voice gave it away.
He tilted his head. “Come here.”
You followed him quietly to the couch, legs shaky, throat tight. The moment he sat, he pulled you onto his lap, your knees straddling him as his hands cradled your waist.
“Tell me.”
You hesitated. “I’m… hormonal.”
His brows rose just a little.
“Not in a sad way. Just my body’s going nuts. And I’ve been alone and stressed and horny for like three days straight.”
San’s expression shifted fast. From concern to heat in a heartbeat.
“Oh,” he said, voice dipping lower.
You bit your lip. “It’s not even the sex part—I mean, okay, it is, but it’s also just how empty I feel. I keep crying at dumb things. I almost cried over a pothole earlier. A pothole, San.”
He grinned. “Baby…”
“It’s my fucking ovulation window. And it’s making me feel like a crazy person.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around you, chest rising and falling against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured after tour. You’re probably tired, and I’m just—” Your voice broke slightly. “I’m just really needy right now.”
San leaned in, forehead resting gently against yours.
“You think I wouldn’t want to take care of you?” he whispered.
You blinked at him. His eyes were darker than before, his hands sliding up and down your sides in slow, grounding motions.
“I know this body,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I know what you feel like when you’re ovulating. I can smell it on you, baby.”
You shivered, his voice was like molasses now, deep and slow.
“You’re flushed. Warm. You keep rocking your hips like you’re not even aware of it.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, humiliated by how true it was.
“Don’t be,” he said, brushing your hair back gently. “I think it’s hot.”
Your breath hitched.
“I want you exactly like this,” he said. “Soft. Needy. Out of your mind.”
He kissed your neck low, slow, and purposeful. His hand slid down between your thighs. Pressed softly.
You whimpered.
“You’re soaked,” he muttered, groaning. “Fuck. I’ve barely touched you.”
You couldn’t breathe.
“I’m gonna take care of you, baby,” he whispered. “Gonna give your body what it wants.”
You whimpered against his shoulder. The second his fingers pressed against the thin cotton of your shorts, your body shuddered.
San cupped you fully, his palm broad and heavy, and rubbed a slow circle. You felt how embarrassingly slick the fabric had gotten, and the groan that left his chest was hungry.
“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” he murmured. “Let me make it better, sweetheart.”
You nodded.
“Need you to say it, baby.”
“Please,” you whispered. “Touch me. I can’t take it anymore.”
He laid you back gently on the couch, pulling the throw blanket under your hips to cushion you.
His lips kissed down your throat, your collarbones, your chest. Slow, slow, slower, until his fingers caught the waistband of your shorts and peeled them down.
Then there it was, the second your panties came off, San paused. His breath caught. You were dripping, inner thighs damp, the whole couch faintly scented with your arousal.
“Oh, baby…” he exhaled, sinking to his knees between your thighs. “You’re so ready for me.”
He spread your legs wide, running his thumbs through your slick, parting you open.
San dropped to his knees between your thighs like a man possessed.
He spread you open with both hands, thumbs gliding through the slick that coated your folds, wet and glossy, stringing between your inner lips and soaking the blanket beneath you.
He let out a guttural groan. “Fuck. You’re not just wet, baby… you’re creamy.”
You flushed hard, hips twitching. “I told you—ovulation makes me—”
“You think I’m complaining?” He slid one finger through your folds, slow, collecting the thick mess coating you. When he pulled it back, it glistened, cloudy, slippery, stretched like honey between his fingers.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he brought that finger to his mouth and sucked it clean.
Your stomach dropped. He moaned.
“Tastes like you need to be filled,” he growled. “Sweet. Warm. Fucking ripe.”
“San—” you gasped, breath catching as he went back for more. He dipped two fingers in this time slow, twisting, curling deep, and when he pulled them out coated and dripping, he held them out to you.
“Open,” he whispered.
You hesitated, cheeks blazing, but obeyed.
He slid his fingers into your mouth and you sucked them instinctively, tasting yourself thick on his skin.
Salty, slippery, overwhelming. San watched with blown pupils and a smirk so filthy it made your toes curl.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Taste what your body’s begging for. You feel it, don’t you? That emptiness. That ache?”
You whimpered, clenching down hard around nothing.
He licked another trail up your thigh and groaned again. “Fucking leaking for it. Dripping down your thighs like your pussy already knows what’s coming.”
Then his mouth was back on you, hot, hungry, greedy. Tongue plunging deep, lips sucking the slick straight from your entrance as if it was the first thing he’d eaten in days.
“You’re making so much of it,” he panted between licks. “You want me to fuck it all back into you, don’t you? Fill you so full it leaks out for hours?”
“Yes,” you choked, writhing. “Please—please, I need it.”
“You’ll get it, sweetheart,” he growled. “But not until I’ve tasted every drop this perfect body’s made for me.”
You broke. Your orgasm hit hard, your body seizing as you clenched around his fingers, thighs squeezing, a loud sob tearing from your throat. You could barely breathe.
The wave dragged on and on, slick pouring out of you, making your inner thighs stick to the blanket.
San kissed you through it. Soft, open-mouthed kisses across your stomach and chest as you came down. His fingers stayed inside you, slow and gentle.
“Hey, hey. I’m right here,” he murmured, tucking your head under his chin. “You don’t have to hold anything in.”
You melted into him again, boneless and trembling...
A tear slid down your cheek before you even noticed you were crying, and San brushed it away without a word.
Your body sagged forward into his chest like you’d been unstrung. Every part of you pulsing and soft, skin too tight for how much emotion buzzed underneath.
You clung to him, breathing him in. Clean sweat, worn cotton, a hint of his shampoo still clinging to the ends of his hair.
Your brain was already slipping into that hormone-drunk haze, the kind that made your ribs ache just from being held.
You barely registered when he started undressing. A shirt peeled over his head, jeans sliding low over his hips.
It was all just movement and warmth and comfort, the room spinning gently while you floated at the center of it.
By the time his clothes hit the floor, you were blinking up at him with glassy eyes, lips parted, thighs pressed together, pliant like your body had already decided what it needed from him before your mouth could ask.
But you did notice the way his cock brushed against your thigh, heavy, thick, already leaking.
You whined.
“Still want me?” he asked, sliding two fingers back into you, checking how open you were. “Still this needy, even after coming so hard?”
You nodded, voice wrecked. “Please, San. Please, I need it deep.”
He kissed your knee. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
You were about to promise when he pushed in. Slow, stretching, deep. You both groaned in tandem, your cunt clenching down like he belonged there. Which, truthfully, he did.
“Fuck,” he whispered, folding over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other on your hip. “You’re so tight.”
“I can’t help it,” you cried. “You feel too good. It’s too much.”
“I know, baby,” he cooed, starting to move—long, grinding thrusts that made your whole body jolt. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
His pace quickened. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He fucked you deep, not hard yet, but the angle had your toes curling. Every time he bottomed out, your body tried to take more.
“You want me to ruin this pussy, don’t you?” he growled.
“Your hormones are driving you crazy. You’re clenching like you never want me to leave.”
He grabbed your throat lightly, pressing just enough to make you gasp.
“You want me to come inside you?” he rasped. “Want to feel me leak out of you for hours?”
“Yes, San—please—don’t pull out—”
That was it. His control snapped.
He fucked you harder now—loud, wet slaps of skin on skin, your moans broken and desperate. Your second orgasm hit without warning, your body convulsing, nails digging into his back, sobs escaping as he stuffed you full, over and over and over again.
He came right after, you felt it when he spilled.
Thick, hot, flooding you. His hips stuttered, voice cracking in your ear as he pressed as deep as he could and stayed there.
“Shit,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “So full. You took all of it, baby.”
You didn’t realize you were bleeding until after. Not much, just a faint smear on the inside of your thigh, red-pink and mixed with cum. San noticed it first.
He immediately slowed.
“Hey—hey, you okay?”
You nodded, you felt dazed and fuzzy, just sensitive everywhere.
“Hurts a little,” you whispered. “But in a good way.”
As he pulled out, the mess was immediate. His cum mixed with yours, leaking in thick strings down your thighs, soaking the blanket beneath you.
San paused, staring, chest heaving.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Look at that.”
You glanced down and your face flamed at the sight. The discharge from earlier, now laced with thick streaks of white, clung to your folds like your body was still trying to keep him inside.
He didn’t move for a second—then dipped back down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered. “It’s dripping out already.”
You squirmed, thighs twitching, too sensitive to do anything about it.
Then he licked it up.
One long, slow drag of his tongue from your hole to your clit, scooping up the mess like it was his reward.
You whimpered. “San—”
He moaned into your cunt. “Don’t worry. I’ll clean you up my way first.”
You hid your face in your hands, torn between embarrassment and the slow curl of heat returning to your gut.
“You’re obsessed,” you whispered.
He smirked, licking his lips. “Damn right I am. You think I could watch my cum dripping out of you and not taste it?”
He was already grabbing a warm towel, muttering apologies as he kissed your temple.
“But still, I should’ve slowed down sooner,” he said softly. “You’re so sensitive right now. I wasn’t thinking.”
“You were perfect,” you whispered.
He was careful with the cleanup. Gentle between your thighs. Talking to you the whole time.
“You did so good for me,” he murmured. “Such a pretty girl. Always so sweet when you’re all soft like this.”
You whimpered when the towel grazed your clit, and he immediately soothed you with a kiss to the cheek.
“I’ve got you, baby. Just a little more, and I’ll get you in the bath.”
Once he was done, he helped you into the bathroom, set you in a warm soak with Epsom salts, and sat beside the tub rubbing circles into your calf.
“You’re always like this when you’re ovulating, huh?” he said, smiling gently. “All needy and messy and desperate.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, flushing.
He leaned in and kissed your nose.
“I fucking love it.”
You splashed a bit of water at him with your toes, but your body was too wrecked to hold a proper pout. When he stood and started peeling off his shirt again, you blinked up at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting in. You think I’m letting you float around in here alone?”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the weight of the day and of him made the thought of being close again too tempting to resist.
He climbed in behind you, easing your back into his chest with a contented sigh. The water shifted around you both, warmer with his skin against yours.
The sound of his heartbeat against your back slowed, each thud syncing with your breathing.
His body stayed wrapped around you, chest flush to your spine, arm curved protectively over your middle like he was afraid you'd slip through his fingers.
San didn’t move right away, he just let you breathe. And you were so grateful because you didn’t have the words yet.
Your body was limp, trembling in the comedown, your thighs sticky with sweat and slick and the warm, wet mess he’d left inside you.
But your chest was tight too, overwhelmed. You blinked, and tears welled again. This time, not from overstimulation, not from pain.
Just from everything. It was too much and not enough, you missed him, needed him, you had him, and it still didn’t feel like enough.
He kissed your shoulder softly.
But eventually, the bath cooled and your skin started to prickle.
He helped you out first, wrapped you in one of his shirts, dried your legs with a towel so gentle it made your eyes sting again.
“Couch?” he murmured.
You nodded, lips too soft and sore to bother forming words. He led you there with a hand at the small of your back, settled down with you tucked between his legs again, a blanket thrown loosely over both of your bodies.
“Hey…” he murmured. “You okay?”
You nodded against the couch pillow, but your throat burned.
Then your voice cracked, so small. “I think I’m gonna cry again.”
“Oh, baby…”
He turned you gently, shifting so he could face you. One hand cupped your cheek, the other sliding up your side, grounding you.
You were blinking fast, tears falling for no reason you could name, and San just held you through it, no judgment, no questions.
“Come here,” he whispered, gathering you into his lap. “S’okay, let it out.”
You curled into him like it was instinct.
“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you sniffled, nuzzling his neck.
“I just—everything feels so much. Like my body’s on fire, and I want you again, but I’m tired, and I love you, but I also want to scream, and—”
“I know,” he said instantly. “You don’t have to explain it. Hormones are insane. You’re feeling everything at once, and I’m just glad you’re telling me.”
You breathed shakily, nose pressed to his damp skin.
“You’re not mad?”
He chuckled, warm and breathy.
“Mad? Baby, I’m honored I get to hold you like this. I love this part—when it’s just us. After everything. When you’re all soft and sleepy and honest.”
You bit your lip, more tears spilling. “You’re too sweet to me.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “You deserve all of this. I mean it.”
He kissed the top of your head, then your forehead, then your damp cheeks.
You curled tighter into him, arms around his neck. “Don’t leave again.”
He smiled against your temple. “You know I have to. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m here. All yours.”
You relaxed with a shaky exhale, and you felt it again.
A pulse low in your belly, a flutter of need, small but insistent.
You whimpered, shifting against his thigh. San froze, then pulled back just enough to look at you, brows furrowed, lips parted.
“…you’re turned on again?”
You blinked, ashamed. “I can’t help it. I think my body’s just—”
He kissed you before you could finish, not hungry or desperate. Just slow, lazy, and familiar.
Then he smirked. “We don’t have to move.”
He slid one hand between your thighs, easily, your folds still soaked, slick still leaking from your entrance.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered. “You’re dripping down your thighs. I think you really do want a second round.”
You whined, burying your face in his chest. “We can’t. I’m so sensitive—”
“Shh,” he whispered, stroking you gently. “No pressure. Just let me touch you. I’ll be soft this time. No thrusting, no roughness. Just slow circles… like this.”
He rubbed his fingers in slow motion against your clit, barely-there pressure, but enough to make your hips twitch. You squirmed in his lap, helpless, lips falling open.
Your voice was small. “That feels so nice…”
“I know, baby,” he whispered. “That’s all I wanna do. Just give you this. No more tears. Just good things.”
And he kept rubbing, gentle and warm and hypnotic. Your breathing grew heavier, head tipping back against his shoulder as he coaxed you into it.
No demands, no commands. Just yes, baby, good girl, let go for me again.
You came with a soft gasp, legs trembling, toes curling, arms still locked around his neck. This time it didn’t hurt, it just eased something. A calm orgasm, full of warmth and release.
After, he kissed your temple again. “There she is.”
You were silent for a moment—then you mumbled, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this emotionally insane and also completely at peace.”
San laughed quietly. “That’s love, baby.”
You huffed a teary, dazed laugh, then whispered against his collarbone:
“Next time you’re on tour and I’m ovulating, I might die.”
He held you tighter.
“Next time, I’m flying you out.”
You didn’t even register that you were crying until San thumbed another tear from your cheek.
“I got you,” he whispered. “That’s it. Let it all out.”
Every nerve felt raw and stretched thin under the weight of too much pleasure, too much closeness, too much him.
At some point, he cleaned you up again. Grabbed a warm cloth and murmured quiet little things like he always does.
You’re okay, I’m right here, just breathe for me, baby, as he wiped you down and slipped one of his shirts over your head. The soft cotton dragged over your hypersensitive skin like a second set of hands.
Just you in his arms, half-buzzed, cheek pressed to his collarbone as he settled the two of you into the cushions. The night air through the window was cool; his skin was warm against yours.
He curled behind you and draped a new throw blanket over your bodies, pulling you into his chest like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space.
“All clingy and messy and fucking desperate.”
You groaned, flushing. “Hush.”
He leaned in and kissed your nose. “My favorite love.”
His heartbeat thudded against your back, slow and steady. You let yourself sink into him, body heavy, brain soft. All of it, the wreckage of pleasure, the gentle care, the calm after, wrapped around you like a cocoon.
A few minutes passed before you mumbled, “…I didn’t even realize it was ovulation week at first.”
San tilted his head down. “You’ve been on the red zone of that app since Wednesday.”
You blinked. “You checked my period app?”
He huffed a laugh. “Babe. You made me download it so I’d stop offering you milkshakes when you’re cramping.”
“…Right.”
You reached for your phone and pulled up the app.
Sure enough: Cycle Day 17. Fertile Window.
A bubble popped up with a cutesy message: 🩷 “You may be extra sensitive, sensual, or emotionally intense today!”
You snorted. “They forgot ‘will sob uncontrollably while getting railed.’”
San peeked over your shoulder. “Oh, I’d swipe right on that.”
Another notification popped up, this time from your group chat.
woowoo:
bitch are you okay??
or just too full of dick to respond???
joongie:
at least confirm you’re ALIVE you were ghosting us mid-tour and now radio silence???
mingithingi:
when u coming back? imy
You started typing through a laugh.
you:
alive. sore. not sorry. imy2 also tell wooyoung i hope he steps on a lego
San took your phone, added:
san:
don’t worry. she’s hydrated, stretched, and fully taken care of. she doesn’t miss u mingi.
Then he tossed it back onto the coffee table and tucked his face against your neck, one hand sliding under your shirt to rest on the warm skin of your belly.
“You good?” he murmured.
You shook your head yes, “Just wrecked.”
“Wanna cry some more?”
“Dunno, maybe.”
“I got you.” He kissed your shoulder. “Always.”
The ovulation app chimed softly in the background, like it knew exactly what it had done.
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