amateur writer, avid reader. my blog will be centered around cravity (sfw + nsfw content). ot9, but my main biases are: allen, seongmin, hyeongjun, and wonjin.
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are you ok? Im just worried due to ur last post i hope ur okay
i’m okay, don’t worry!!!!! i just go inactive sometimes whenever i lose a) inspiration or b) motivation. i’m sorry that i worried you, and anyone else who cares ☹️☹️
2.7k words. succubus au, “man of god” au, afab reader. corruption kink, coercion?? he wants to all along, but understandably has his qualms. is it considered somnophilia if it’s a wet dream?? i’ll leave this warning anyway. allen’s a virgin, and about to finish seminary school. somewhat inspired by the fact that i attended catholic mass semi-regularly as a child.. enjoy :)
the slick sounds of your mouth working allen’s aching cock wakes him before the pleasure does. the instant panic he feels does nothing but harden him more, and you scent that; the twitch against your velvet tongue and petal-soft lips tells you more than his mouth manages to do. nearly letting out a coo to quell his fears, you comfort him wordlessly by bobbing your head a few times, swallowing him expertly deeper with no visible effort.
the whites of his eyes swallow near-black irises, lips fumbling uselessly over words, trying to make sense of the ones he wants to use. beyond cute, you think, watching him with growing interest. round cheeks flushed, he finally sputters a few words. “who..” he pauses, blinking and swallowing thickly, adam’s apple working up and down. “who are you? you’re not supposed to be here!”
sliding from his length with a lewd pop, you decide to humor him, your amusement palpable. “be where? you should be more specific..” you tease, tonguing over his slit and tasting his sweet, virgin energy.
fuck, it’s been too long since your last feeding, and your eyes nearly roll back at the taste. but, you have to remind yourself that you’re in complete control of this situation, this illusion. he tries, red faced, to voice his opposition, but he can only let out a soft groan in response, shuddering under your ministrations.
gotcha.
your tail lifts and sways behind you, the simpering cat who caught the mouse—eager to devour. when he catches a glimpse of your extra.. extremity, it takes only a second more for him to spot the horns sprouting from your skull. all of the pieces almost visibly slide into place, and his shaking hand thrusts out blindly for his bedside table. feeling for, and ultimately grabbing, the cool, tinkling beads of his rosary. he grips it, white knuckled, in both hands and begins to fervently pray. watching with eclectic delight as he moves from bead-to-bead, your smile only grows.
“our father.. w-who art in heaven, hallowed be thy n-name..” his white teeth chatter from the effort it takes to voice his prayer. hoping that someone, that God himself, would banish you from his sight.
not that you were wholly unpleasant to look at, nor was the sensation something of pain or mystery. allen.. touched himself quite frequently before giving his life over to the Lord. he saved him before, but where is he now? allen does want to be freed from this torment, yet, at the same time, deep down he hopes that the Father would decide to turn his face away.. just this once.
is that so wrong? it is, he knows it is, but something about you, about this, feels too much too good.
the human lets out a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut before he can witness you taking him to the hilt again. he very nearly curses, heaven forbid. “thy kingdom.. thy kingdom..”
you release him from the vacuum of your sinful mouth, practically purring as you encourage him to continue. running your hand up and down his spit-slick shaft, you tilt your head at him. “go ahead. thy kingdom, what?”
“come..” he rasps, throat dry, the word alone has him tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge. his abstinence has only made him more sensitive, and he doesn’t trust himself enough to win this battle.
as if you can sense his impending release (which you most certainly can), you free him from your grip entirely. allen curls up and inward, body protesting the loss of friction.
seeing this, you let out a cruel laugh, and he sobers in an instant. this little game that you’re playing needs to come to an end, for his eternal soul rests in the balance. not to mention the compromise of the sacred covenant he made with his Savior.
oh God..
“this can’t go any further!”
“and why not?”
he only grips his rosary tighter, the glass beads bruising his palm serve to ground him as he comes down and back to reality. looking around his tidy dorm room, his eyes land on the open bible on his desk. “besides the obvious? do you even know who i am and where this is?”
slowly ascending his body, you perch yourself on his chest. he finds himself almost hypnotized by each move, and he doesn’t even flinch when you lean in close and grip his chin to bring his face back to yours. “i know exactly who you are, allen ma.”
your voice tickles his ears, his chest burning with a hidden flush under your heated gaze. he’s not sure he’s ever heard his name said that way, like it was the answer to everything.
letting him go, you give a soft pat to his warm cheek. he blinks in surprise, the evidence of his need protruding lewdly from the top of his slacks twitches and smears fresh preejaculate across your bare stomach.
allen shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. and, when he settles himself, brows furrowed in concentration, he uses the firmest tone he can muster. “in God’s name, i command you leave this place..”
you sneer, upper lip curling distastefully. “there is no God here..”
his blood runs cold.
whereas before allen had been solely focused on himself, he now becomes acutely aware of your state of undress. his eyes, unsure where to rest, dart down to your cleavage, your chest pressed flush to his dress shirt. he admonishes himself with a punishing bite to his lower lip before his eyes rush to the ceiling.
were you naked this whole time? it’s as if he’s a puppet on a string--his heart screams one thing, but his body disobeys and does another.
he tries weakly to roll out from under you, not really wanting to free himself but feeling the moral obligation and the weight of his decision. “my virginity belongs to the Lord. i took an oath, and i intend to see it through.”
oh my, he looks so serious, stony face set into stubborn determination. it’s hard to control the giggle that bubbles up your throat, so you decide not to. “you know this is a dream, right?”
the crease between his brows smooth in an instant, the fire in his gaze replaced with something like confusion. “what?”
“don’t you remember what you were wearing before you drifted off?” you supply, briefly glancing down with an impish gleam.
his gaze follows yours, unbelief melting away when he glimpses the starch white roman collar around his throat. the contrast between his hard cock sticking up from his black slacks, the very same he wears with his uniform every day, and his classy black dress shirt buttoned up all the way is nearly comical. the corruption of something so clean, so holy, is almost too much to bear..
but, it also embarrasses him in the best way. he covers his face, pink-eared and visibly uncomfortable. “do i really have to be in full clerical gear in this fantasy of yours?”
your lips pull up in answer, lethally pointed canines glinting in the moonlight. “yes.”
he scrubs the hand down his face, but says nothing more. grabbing each of your shoulders gently, he tries to peel you from him. “dream or not, it doesn’t change the fact that i can’t break my vow of abstinence.” no matter how bad he wants to.
“but, it isn’t being broken..” you say, your voice the very picture of innocence. “you’re in a dream, and outside of it your virginity will remain very much intact.”
he can’t help but wonder if maybe this is how adam fell. the serpent, through eve, shattered his weak resolve and tricked him into sinking his teeth into that fruit, and, with it, sealing the fate of man.
as if seeing the inner struggle brewing just beneath the surface, you hum, dragging a long, dagger-like nail down the center of his chest. “how about we start with a kiss?” you start, pouting your lips in fake understanding. “would that make things easier for you?”
allen’s mouth pulls into a thin line. he shouldn’t do this, he really shouldn’t do this. but, instead, he closes his eyes, practically hiding behind his lids. “yes.”
the admission has your eyes crinkling, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. when your mouths meet, the softness of his trembling lips takes you by surprise.
he moves them in a barely there caress, hesitating only a mere moment before leaning in fully. you greedily part yours to tilt your head and lick a fat stripe along the seam of his lips. his answering gasp gives you just enough time to deepen the kiss.
allen shudders when your hot tongue slides against his, a soft moan echoing inside your mouth. somewhere far off, you register the slide and clatter of beads before his hands are on the dips of your waist.
his hands and mouth are uncoordinated, but they move against you almost.. eagerly. your teeth drag against his lips, tugging at the lower one as you part.
he blinks groggily, searching your face for the reason for the pause. you simply grin at the innocent gesture. “oh, baby, was that your first kiss?” your question has allen’s face burning in shame. sputtering despite the fact that the answer was, no, no it wasn’t.
with that, you’re reaching down between your bodies and gathering the fresh pearl of precum that wells up at his slit with your thumb. he twitches under you, crying out softly as you work it over the length of him. you kiss the backs of your teeth. “you couldn’t keep from running that mouth earlier, but now you can’t form a single thought.” you pinch his warm cheek, giving his head a little shake. “what’s in that pretty little head of yours?”
his mouth works up and down dumbly, sweat darkening the chestnut roots of his hair. the room practically echoes with the wet sounds of skin-on-skin. to say he’s distracted is an understatement. “please.”
“please what?”
allen licks his dry lips. “i need more.”
using the same hand that grips him, you drag the blunt head through your slick. the moan expelled from his lungs is enough encouragement to barely dip him inside, slipping out again to circle your entrance.. teasing him.
“yeah? thought you couldn’t?”
he throws his head back, dual sensations of frustration and exasperation overwhelming him. does he have to ask for it explicitly? any drop confidence he had before fizzles out before it can truly spark.
before he can even whine his discontent, the succubus finally, finally, finally gives him what he needs. his relief comes as you press down, the tight entrance of your cunt giving brief resistance before opening up to welcome him all the way in.
his mouth gapes in a silent moan, eyes squeezing tightly shut. heart pounding wildly, head echoing with the sound as he spares a peek in your direction.. daring to crack one eye, and then both.
you’re sin incarnate. tits pushed up into his face, nipples hard. the thought of taking one of them between his teeth is a flash through his mind.
his hips surge impossibly deeper, the broad head of his cock pressing a lewd kiss to your cervix. taken off guard by his sudden movements, your head falls to the crook of his neck, burying your face there. as your hips bounce down into his, your tongue traces along the seam of his dress shirt.. following it to the hollow of his throat, dipping in and tasting the salty-sweet sweat that collects there.
for someone who was so adamantly against having you here, allen stays remarkably silent after you start riding him. his hands on your waist working you up and down the length of him, your cunt hugging him nice and tight. then, before you can do anything to stop it, you are moving effortlessly through the air.
allen lifts you easily, dropping you onto the bed with a satisfied glint in his eyes, lining his cock back up with your entrance and driving it inside. a squeal of delight leaves you, your nails raking down his back and tearing his nice shirt into ribbons—all held in place by that goddamn collar.
as if he can read your mind, one of his hands comes up to unbutton and wrench the ruined shirt from his body. letting it hit the ground without a care. your warm hands explore the freshly unveiled expanse of skin, exploring every curve and ridge of him. he allows you to indulge yourself, but he hardly waits a moment more before he’s sliding desperately in and out of you. excited by your hands on him and the intoxication of having you wrapped around him.
your head falls to the pillow, biting down on your lips, hard. you’re surprised by this human, this supposed man of God. sure, you had confidence in your abilities, but he’s done a complete 180 and seems to be more into this than you could’ve imagined.
and he’s good, you admit, really good.
allen’s able to maintain a consistent rhythm for a surprising amount of time before his pace begins to change and falter. his brows wrinkling as his hips slow to roll and grind into yours, a few small moans leaving him as he presses wet kisses across your jaw. too sensitive to fuck into you harder.
your heart flutters at the small gesture, but you must stay focused on the task at hand. you can feel his energy swell, and you know he’s close.
allen, although embarrassed by his lack of stamina, knows it’s only natural. and, with the way you’re squeezing his cock, his comfort comes in knowing you’re close too.
spurred on by his impending climax, your body winds tight as your end nears. rocking your hips against his desperately, needing to feel him.. to collect his energy, you correct yourself.
as allen begins to topple over the edge, your mouth collides with his. white explodes behind his eyes as he fills you to the brim.. years of pent up frustration coming to fruition.
breaths are exchanged in the dark as you both lay there, panting and still connected in the most intimate way.
when even the breaths are silent, allen finally regains enough energy to open his heavy eyes.. finding you already staring at him. your eyes filled with a strange, uncharacteristic sadness.
allen opens his mouth to speak, to ask you what’s the matter, but he’s suddenly jerked awake.
“hey!!” he calls, voice froggy with sleep. “what the fuck?” the words are sour in his mouth. where could you have gone?
moving to sit straight up in bed, his head whips around.. yet, you’re nowhere to be found. the only evidence that remains of your presence comes in an embarrassing wetness in the front of his sleep pants, and a dull ache in his chest.
——
allen enters the shiny, wooden confessional.. he finds almost an easy comfort in the sickly sweet incense that fills the cramped space, and in the relative anonymity the lattice screen provides him.
or at least he did.
he never used to like going as a child, two tiny fists hammering against his big brother’s back as he carried him slung over one shoulder; he never saw the importance of telling someone his sins. it felt far too private. and it was not until he started seminary and learned how liberating it can truly be, and that feels like a lifetime ago.
now, taking a seat on the wooden bench, he nervously runs his sweaty palms down the length of his thighs to dry them.
this is like any other confession. just like he’s done time and time again: confess, pray, and sin no more.. except this time it feels different. something about the air feels almost sharp and foreboding as he sits there in front of his priest, his mentor and confidant.
after a long pause, sharing polite silence as allen collects his scattered thoughts, he clears his throat. “bless me, father, for i have sinned. my last confession was three weeks ago..” he begins, voice small.
2.7k words. succubus au, “man of god” au, afab reader. corruption kink, coercion?? he wants to all along, but understandably has his qualms. is it considered somnophilia if it’s a wet dream?? i’ll leave this warning anyway. allen’s a virgin, and about to finish seminary school. somewhat inspired by the fact that i attended catholic mass semi-regularly as a child.. enjoy :)
the slick sounds of your mouth working allen’s aching cock wakes him before the pleasure does. the instant panic he feels does nothing but harden him more, and you scent that; the twitch against your velvet tongue and petal-soft lips tells you more than his mouth manages to do. nearly letting out a coo to quell his fears, you comfort him wordlessly by bobbing your head a few times, swallowing him expertly deeper with no visible effort.
the whites of his eyes swallow near-black irises, lips fumbling uselessly over words, trying to make sense of the ones he wants to use. beyond cute, you think, watching him with growing interest. round cheeks flushed, he finally sputters a few words. “who..” he pauses, blinking and swallowing thickly, adam’s apple working up and down. “who are you? you’re not supposed to be here!”
sliding from his length with a lewd pop, you decide to humor him, your amusement palpable. “be where? you should be more specific..” you tease, tonguing over his slit and tasting his sweet, virgin energy.
fuck, it’s been too long since your last feeding, and your eyes nearly roll back at the taste. but, you have to remind yourself that you’re in complete control of this situation, this illusion. he tries, red faced, to voice his opposition, but he can only let out a soft groan in response, shuddering under your ministrations.
gotcha.
your tail lifts and sways behind you, the simpering cat who caught the mouse—eager to devour. when he catches a glimpse of your extra.. extremity, it takes only a second more for him to spot the horns sprouting from your skull. all of the pieces almost visibly slide into place, and his shaking hand thrusts out blindly for his bedside table. feeling for, and ultimately grabbing, the cool, tinkling beads of his rosary. he grips it, white knuckled, in both hands and begins to fervently pray. watching with eclectic delight as he moves from bead-to-bead, your smile only grows.
“our father.. w-who art in heaven, hallowed be thy n-name..” his white teeth chatter from the effort it takes to voice his prayer. hoping that someone, that God himself, would banish you from his sight.
not that you were wholly unpleasant to look at, nor was the sensation something of pain or mystery. allen.. touched himself quite frequently before giving his life over to the Lord. he saved him before, but where is he now? allen does want to be freed from this torment, yet, at the same time, deep down he hopes that the Father would decide to turn his face away.. just this once.
is that so wrong? it is, he knows it is, but something about you, about this, feels too much too good.
the human lets out a harsh breath, squeezing his eyes shut before he can witness you taking him to the hilt again. he very nearly curses, heaven forbid. “thy kingdom.. thy kingdom..”
you release him from the vacuum of your sinful mouth, practically purring as you encourage him to continue. running your hand up and down his spit-slick shaft, you tilt your head at him. “go ahead. thy kingdom, what?”
“come..” he rasps, throat dry, the word alone has him tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge. his abstinence has only made him more sensitive, and he doesn’t trust himself enough to win this battle.
as if you can sense his impending release (which you most certainly can), you free him from your grip entirely. allen curls up and inward, body protesting the loss of friction.
seeing this, you let out a cruel laugh, and he sobers in an instant. this little game that you’re playing needs to come to an end, for his eternal soul rests in the balance. not to mention the compromise of the sacred covenant he made with his Savior.
oh God..
“this can’t go any further!”
“and why not?”
he only grips his rosary tighter, the glass beads bruising his palm serve to ground him as he comes down and back to reality. looking around his tidy dorm room, his eyes land on the open bible on his desk. “besides the obvious? do you even know who i am and where this is?”
slowly ascending his body, you perch yourself on his chest. he finds himself almost hypnotized by each move, and he doesn’t even flinch when you lean in close and grip his chin to bring his face back to yours. “i know exactly who you are, allen ma.”
your voice tickles his ears, his chest burning with a hidden flush under your heated gaze. he’s not sure he’s ever heard his name said that way, like it was the answer to everything.
letting him go, you give a soft pat to his warm cheek. he blinks in surprise, the evidence of his need protruding lewdly from the top of his slacks twitches and smears fresh preejaculate across your bare stomach.
allen shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. and, when he settles himself, brows furrowed in concentration, he uses the firmest tone he can muster. “in God’s name, i command you leave this place..”
you sneer, upper lip curling distastefully. “there is no God here..”
his blood runs cold.
whereas before allen had been solely focused on himself, he now becomes acutely aware of your state of undress. his eyes, unsure where to rest, dart down to your cleavage, your chest pressed flush to his dress shirt. he admonishes himself with a punishing bite to his lower lip before his eyes rush to the ceiling.
were you naked this whole time? it’s as if he’s a puppet on a string--his heart screams one thing, but his body disobeys and does another.
he tries weakly to roll out from under you, not really wanting to free himself but feeling the moral obligation and the weight of his decision. “my virginity belongs to the Lord. i took an oath, and i intend to see it through.”
oh my, he looks so serious, stony face set into stubborn determination. it’s hard to control the giggle that bubbles up your throat, so you decide not to. “you know this is a dream, right?”
the crease between his brows smooth in an instant, the fire in his gaze replaced with something like confusion. “what?”
“don’t you remember what you were wearing before you drifted off?” you supply, briefly glancing down with an impish gleam.
his gaze follows yours, unbelief melting away when he glimpses the starch white roman collar around his throat. the contrast between his hard cock sticking up from his black slacks, the very same he wears with his uniform every day, and his classy black dress shirt buttoned up all the way is nearly comical. the corruption of something so clean, so holy, is almost too much to bear..
but, it also embarrasses him in the best way. he covers his face, pink-eared and visibly uncomfortable. “do i really have to be in full clerical gear in this fantasy of yours?”
your lips pull up in answer, lethally pointed canines glinting in the moonlight. “yes.”
he scrubs the hand down his face, but says nothing more. grabbing each of your shoulders gently, he tries to peel you from him. “dream or not, it doesn’t change the fact that i can’t break my vow of abstinence.” no matter how bad he wants to.
“but, it isn’t being broken..” you say, your voice the very picture of innocence. “you’re in a dream, and outside of it your virginity will remain very much intact.”
he can’t help but wonder if maybe this is how adam fell. the serpent, through eve, shattered his weak resolve and tricked him into sinking his teeth into that fruit, and, with it, sealing the fate of man.
as if seeing the inner struggle brewing just beneath the surface, you hum, dragging a long, dagger-like nail down the center of his chest. “how about we start with a kiss?” you start, pouting your lips in fake understanding. “would that make things easier for you?”
allen’s mouth pulls into a thin line. he shouldn’t do this, he really shouldn’t do this. but, instead, he closes his eyes, practically hiding behind his lids. “yes.”
the admission has your eyes crinkling, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. when your mouths meet, the softness of his trembling lips takes you by surprise.
he moves them in a barely there caress, hesitating only a mere moment before leaning in fully. you greedily part yours to tilt your head and lick a fat stripe along the seam of his lips. his answering gasp gives you just enough time to deepen the kiss.
allen shudders when your hot tongue slides against his, a soft moan echoing inside your mouth. somewhere far off, you register the slide and clatter of beads before his hands are on the dips of your waist.
his hands and mouth are uncoordinated, but they move against you almost.. eagerly. your teeth drag against his lips, tugging at the lower one as you part.
he blinks groggily, searching your face for the reason for the pause. you simply grin at the innocent gesture. “oh, baby, was that your first kiss?” your question has allen’s face burning in shame. sputtering despite the fact that the answer was, no, no it wasn’t.
with that, you’re reaching down between your bodies and gathering the fresh pearl of precum that wells up at his slit with your thumb. he twitches under you, crying out softly as you work it over the length of him. you kiss the backs of your teeth. “you couldn’t keep from running that mouth earlier, but now you can’t form a single thought.” you pinch his warm cheek, giving his head a little shake. “what’s in that pretty little head of yours?”
his mouth works up and down dumbly, sweat darkening the chestnut roots of his hair. the room practically echoes with the wet sounds of skin-on-skin. to say he’s distracted is an understatement. “please.”
“please what?”
allen licks his dry lips. “i need more.”
using the same hand that grips him, you drag the blunt head through your slick. the moan expelled from his lungs is enough encouragement to barely dip him inside, slipping out again to circle your entrance.. teasing him.
“yeah? thought you couldn’t?”
he throws his head back, dual sensations of frustration and exasperation overwhelming him. does he have to ask for it explicitly? any drop confidence he had before fizzles out before it can truly spark.
before he can even whine his discontent, the succubus finally, finally, finally gives him what he needs. his relief comes as you press down, the tight entrance of your cunt giving brief resistance before opening up to welcome him all the way in.
his mouth gapes in a silent moan, eyes squeezing tightly shut. heart pounding wildly, head echoing with the sound as he spares a peek in your direction.. daring to crack one eye, and then both.
you’re sin incarnate. tits pushed up into his face, nipples hard. the thought of taking one of them between his teeth is a flash through his mind.
his hips surge impossibly deeper, the broad head of his cock pressing a lewd kiss to your cervix. taken off guard by his sudden movements, your head falls to the crook of his neck, burying your face there. as your hips bounce down into his, your tongue traces along the seam of his dress shirt.. following it to the hollow of his throat, dipping in and tasting the salty-sweet sweat that collects there.
for someone who was so adamantly against having you here, allen stays remarkably silent after you start riding him. his hands on your waist working you up and down the length of him, your cunt hugging him nice and tight. then, before you can do anything to stop it, you are moving effortlessly through the air.
allen lifts you easily, dropping you onto the bed with a satisfied glint in his eyes, lining his cock back up with your entrance and driving it inside. a squeal of delight leaves you, your nails raking down his back and tearing his nice shirt into ribbons—all held in place by that goddamn collar.
as if he can read your mind, one of his hands comes up to unbutton and wrench the ruined shirt from his body. letting it hit the ground without a care. your warm hands explore the freshly unveiled expanse of skin, exploring every curve and ridge of him. he allows you to indulge yourself, but he hardly waits a moment more before he’s sliding desperately in and out of you. excited by your hands on him and the intoxication of having you wrapped around him.
your head falls to the pillow, biting down on your lips, hard. you’re surprised by this human, this supposed man of God. sure, you had confidence in your abilities, but he’s done a complete 180 and seems to be more into this than you could’ve imagined.
and he’s good, you admit, really good.
allen’s able to maintain a consistent rhythm for a surprising amount of time before his pace begins to change and falter. his brows wrinkling as his hips slow to roll and grind into yours, a few small moans leaving him as he presses wet kisses across your jaw. too sensitive to fuck into you harder.
your heart flutters at the small gesture, but you must stay focused on the task at hand. you can feel his energy swell, and you know he’s close.
allen, although embarrassed by his lack of stamina, knows it’s only natural. and, with the way you’re squeezing his cock, his comfort comes in knowing you’re close too.
spurred on by his impending climax, your body winds tight as your end nears. rocking your hips against his desperately, needing to feel him.. to collect his energy, you correct yourself.
as allen begins to topple over the edge, your mouth collides with his. white explodes behind his eyes as he fills you to the brim.. years of pent up frustration coming to fruition.
breaths are exchanged in the dark as you both lay there, panting and still connected in the most intimate way.
when even the breaths are silent, allen finally regains enough energy to open his heavy eyes.. finding you already staring at him. your eyes filled with a strange, uncharacteristic sadness.
allen opens his mouth to speak, to ask you what’s the matter, but he’s suddenly jerked awake.
“hey!!” he calls, voice froggy with sleep. “what the fuck?” the words are sour in his mouth. where could you have gone?
moving to sit straight up in bed, his head whips around.. yet, you’re nowhere to be found. the only evidence that remains of your presence comes in an embarrassing wetness in the front of his sleep pants, and a dull ache in his chest.
——
allen enters the shiny, wooden confessional.. he finds almost an easy comfort in the sickly sweet incense that fills the cramped space, and in the relative anonymity the lattice screen provides him.
or at least he did.
he never used to like going as a child, two tiny fists hammering against his big brother’s back as he carried him slung over one shoulder; he never saw the importance of telling someone his sins. it felt far too private. and it was not until he started seminary and learned how liberating it can truly be, and that feels like a lifetime ago.
now, taking a seat on the wooden bench, he nervously runs his sweaty palms down the length of his thighs to dry them.
this is like any other confession. just like he’s done time and time again: confess, pray, and sin no more.. except this time it feels different. something about the air feels almost sharp and foreboding as he sits there in front of his priest, his mentor and confidant.
after a long pause, sharing polite silence as allen collects his scattered thoughts, he clears his throat. “bless me, father, for i have sinned. my last confession was three weeks ago..” he begins, voice small.
how do you think woobin would react if you squished his (face) cheeks while riding him?
hey, darlin! i think woobin would be totally endeared by it. a small thing like that would probably take him out of the heat of the moment. not in a negative way, though. you’d literally witness the furrow in his brow, all the tension, dissipating.
his entire face, his eyes especially, softening as he allows his cheeks to be squished and prodded by you. and he’ll let you for a moment, but then he’ll turn his head to catch you off guard with a kiss to your palm.. letting his lips linger for a moment as he watches you thoughtfully—before eventually curving up in a smug smile.
just fyi, he’s going to try and fluster you, just like you tried to do to him. woobin knows exactly what buttons to push, and he’s good at it, too. if you try to retaliate or act out, however, his patience only goes so far. push him and he’ll flip you faster than you can beg for forgiveness. the choice is entirely yours 💋
gagging. seongmin. with. your. panties!!!!!!!! prodding them deep into his mouth with your fingers.. listening to all those pretty little noises as he closes his eyes and tries to taste your sweet cunt. soaking the fabric hanging from his mouth with his saliva as he sucks and licks the seat of them under your watchful gaze. humping your pillow (maybe even your thigh), and giving you a show. trying with all of his might to convince you to let him drink it directly from the source.
virgin!childhood friend taeyoung x popular!cheerleader reader.. you make a pact to get taeyoung laid at a party over the summer, but he seems to find something wrong with everyone you introduce him to. it’s not until you get a little tipsy and start flirting with the star quarterback that you understand why he’s being so picky 🤍
how do you think woobin would react if you squished his (face) cheeks while riding him?
hey, darlin! i think woobin would be totally endeared by it. a small thing like that would probably take him out of the heat of the moment. not in a negative way, though. you’d literally witness the furrow in his brow, all the tension, dissipating.
his entire face, his eyes especially, softening as he allows his cheeks to be squished and prodded by you. and he’ll let you for a moment, but then he’ll turn his head to catch you off guard with a kiss to your palm.. letting his lips linger for a moment as he watches you thoughtfully—before eventually curving up in a smug smile.
just fyi, he’s going to try and fluster you, just like you tried to do to him. woobin knows exactly what buttons to push, and he’s good at it, too. if you try to retaliate or act out, however, his patience only goes so far. push him and he’ll flip you faster than you can beg for forgiveness. the choice is entirely yours 💋
