…because I’m obsessed with him and his lips.. Like actually addicted…
Genre: Fluff, Smutty/Suggestive content MDNI 18+
Warnings: obsessive thoughts, language, public kissing, suggestive behavior, oral fixation, face-sitting, overstimulation, praise kink, daddy kink, spitting, fluid play, crying during sex, degradation kink (light), fingering, explicit sexual content, possessiveness, and overall pure filth
SFW
• You catch yourself zoning out while he’s talking—not because you’re not interested, but because you’re tracking every movement of his lips.
• He smirks when he notices. “Eyes up here, babe,” he’ll tease, and then bite his bottom lip just to punish you more.
• You’ve kissed him in public just because he looked too good mid-sentence. No warning. Just lip-to-lip like you were starving.
• His lips always taste like something—mint gum, peach juice, a little bit of sin. You don’t even care what. You just want them on yours.
• He kisses you slow. Not teasing—just deep, warm, consuming. Like he wants to imprint the shape of your mouth on his soul.
• Sometimes he’ll talk while brushing his lips against yours and it turns into a challenge. “What? Can’t focus with my mouth this close?”
• You once got so flustered watching him eat a popsicle that you had to physically leave the room. He noticed. He laughed. You suffered.
NSFW
• His lips dragging down your stomach? Lethal. He takes his time, leaves wet little kisses until you’re squirming, then smirks, “So needy already?”
• The first time he went down on you, he stayed down there long enough for you to lose count, long enough to make your thighs ache long enough to ruin your ability to walk straight.
• He doesn’t just eat you out—he devours you. Moaning like you’re his favorite meal, sucking your clit with those pillowy plump lips until you’re a mess beneath him.
• He talks into you with his mouth still on you. “You’re so fucking wet, baby… so sweet. You gonna cum again for daddy right?” And you do. Every. Single. Time.
• You’ve literally cried because of how good his mouth feels—tears down your cheeks, legs shaking, smiling through it proud of the mess he’s made.
• He loves when you ride his face. Grips your thighs, pulling you down, letting you grind on his tongue while he groans like he’s in heaven. “Don’t stop. Use me baby.” Like you were ever gonna stop.
• He’ll spit on your pussy just to watch it drip, then lick it back up slowly with his eyes locked on yours. Filthy. So filthy.
• After he makes you cum, he kisses you with your taste still on his lips, whispers, “Taste that? That’s mine.” You moan into his mouth.
• He can make you finish with just his lips and a couple fingers, whispering, “One more, yeah? You’ve got one more in you.” And you always do—even if you’re sobbing through it.
• Sometimes he doesn’t even fuck you. Just pins you down and uses that mouth until you’re trembling, breathless, and wrecked beyond words. Then kisses you like he didn’t just ruin your life.
he’s still out cold when you wake up, tangled in the sheets like he’s part of them. soft morning light cuts through the blinds, painting golden bars across his bare face, the slope of his shoulders, the teeth-shaped bruises down his neck.
last night still clings to him- damp curls sticking to his forehead, faint pearls of sweat glittering against his throat. he’s sprawled out, one arm slung over his head, lips parted like he’s still moaning for you in his dreams.
you ache everywhere, but you feel good. fucked-out and warm and full of him in a way that lingers. you should get up, should shower, should maybe even let him sleep off the afterglow of last night. but instead, you just… look at him.
he’s too pretty like this.
his face slack, lips parted, soft breaths moving his chest in gentle waves. he looks like a painting. and maybe it’s the way the sheets have fallen low on his hips, or the memory of how he moaned for you last night, but your thighs press together under the covers and your mouth starts to water.
you shift a little, careful not to wake him, and trail your fingers down his stomach- just watching the way he reacts, even in sleep. the way he twitches under your touch.
you don’t even mean to take it further, but you just need a taste. just need to feel him on your tongue again.
you let your lips brush over the head of his cock, featherlight, just to see. and the sound he makes- barely there, breathy and soft- makes something in you snap.
you settle between his legs, pushing the blankets down just enough to breathe, and take your time with him. slow, almost lazy. kitten licks along the underside of his length, soft kisses to his thighs, tongue tracing where you bit him the night before. he’s already half hard from your teasing, shifting slightly in his sleep, brows twitching like he’s trying to chase the feeling in a dream.
you wrap your lips around him again, a little deeper this time. hands sliding up his stomach, nails just grazing. you hollow your cheeks and let your spit drip down, working him nice and wet, savoring how heavy he feels on your tongue. it’s not even about getting him off yet- it’s about tasting him. letting your mouth worship him like he deserves.
and that’s when he gasps awake.
“fuck… baby…”
his voice is wrecked, rasped raw from begging your name, and it sends a ripple of heat straight between your thighs. he barely opens his eyes, but his hands find your waist like they always do- needy and sure, like his body remembers even if his mind is still catching up.
“come here,” he murmurs, tugging you up, shifting you until your thighs are straddling his face under the covers.
you laugh softly, breathless, but you listen- because of course you do. because when xayden asks like that, voice thick with sleep and lust, there’s no such thing as saying no.
you adjust your position carefully, still bobbing your head, now angled across his chest with the blanket draped over both of you. and the second your pussy brushes his lips, he groans like it’s the first inhale after drowning.
he licks into you like he needs it. like he needs you. tongue slow at first, savoring your taste, then firmer, hungrier, pushing his face deeper between your thighs. your rhythm falters for a moment- dick slipping from your mouth as a gasp escapes you- but he grips your ass and pulls you back down with a low, desperate sound.
“don’t stop,” he mumbles against your cunt, already breathless, “wanna feel you… wanna taste you while you suck me off…”
his words make your whole body pulse. you sink back down on him, sloppier now, spit-slick and aching, your own moans muffled by the weight of him on your tongue. he’s leaking for you, so sensitive it makes his thighs twitch under your hands.
he alternates between licking and sucking, tongue dragging from your clit down to your hole, then back up again like he can’t decide which part of you he loves more. he makes the filthiest noises under you- wet, obscene, shameless. and when he sucks on your clit just right, your hips buck and you choke a little around his cock, which only makes him groan louder.
his hands roam constantly- gripping your waist, squeezing your thighs, sliding up your sides under the oversized t-shirt you forgot you were still wearing. he’s not in a rush, and neither are you. it’s messy and lazy, drawn out and overwhelming and so perfect- tangled limbs and sleepy moans, both of you drowning under the blankets in each other. your legs tremble over his shoulders as he licks deeper, and you feel him throb in your mouth at the sound of your whine.
his hips start to stutter under you, and you can feel it- feel how close he is by the way he breathes, the way his hands tighten, the way his tongue gets just a little more frantic between your legs.
“baby,” he whines, voice muffled against you, “gonna cum if you keep going like that…”
OMG! I ALREADY DISCOVERED YOUR WORK AND IM JSGDIDJAHSHSGSJSJDDJSJD IM GOING CRAZY!!!! YOU WRITE FOR ALL(H)OURS???? REALLY????? CAN I FILL YOUR ASKS ABOUT THEY?????
OMG HI ANON!! YES OFC<3 IF U WANT U CAN ALSO SIGN OFF WITH AN EMOJI IF U WANNA COMEBACK LATER AND ILL OFC WRITE IT<33 IM SO GLAD U LIKE MI WORK!!
hi! can i ask for an on:n fic (bottom reader) where he teases reader after seeing reader's reaction during one of his sexy performances? :3
— lights down low
on:n (all(h)ours) | male reader
warnings: smut, bottom reader, sub reader, dirty talk
The stage lights still hummed with heat, the air buzzing with the residual energy of the show. Staff members moved quickly, wrapping cables, checking gear, while the members of ALL(H)OURS filtered offstage, flushed and riding the high of performance.
(y/n) stood just off the side, trying his best to focus on his clipboard. But his hands had gone still the moment Jihwan’s solo began.
That dance break.
The way his shirt clung to his sweat-damp chest. The sharp pop of his hips. The slick drag of his fingers across his tongue before he rolled them down his body.
It was too much. Too deliberate. And then he locked eyes with (y/n) during the final pose and smirked. Like he knew.
Fifteen minutes later, (y/n) found himself pressed into a dark backstage corner, heat still prickling across his cheeks. Between a locked storage room door and a stack of black stage crates, Jihwan stood in front of him, towel over his neck and a half-finished water bottle in hand.
“You were watching me pretty closely,” Jihwan murmured, voice low and amused. His lips were still pink and swollen from the stage.
“I was just doing my job,” (y/n) mumbled, trying to look anywhere else. His voice betrayed him, thin and dry.
Jihwan leaned in a little closer. “Oh? Because it looked more like you were imagining things. Dirty things.”
He took a sip of water, then let the bottle fall from his fingers, forgotten. “Should I be flattered or show you what it’s like up close?”
Before (y/n) could process that, Jihwan’s mouth was on his. Hot and fast. A kiss that tasted like peppermint and adrenaline. Jihwan’s hands came down on his waist, strong fingers curling through the fabric of his shirt to pin him back.
“I saw how red your ears got when I licked my fingers,” he whispered, lips brushing over (y/n)’s jaw, warm and teasing. “You’re so easy to read, hyung. It’s cute.”
“Jihwan.. Someone could see..” (y/n) started, breath catching.
“Let them,” Jihwan growled. “You like it when I dance dirty, don’t you?”
He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he spun (y/n) around so his front hit the wall, hands braced flat against the cool surface. Jihwan pressed in behind him, his cock already hard and firm against the curve of (y/n)’s ass.
“God,” he groaned, grinding slightly, just enough to make his point. “You drive me crazy.”
His hand snuck beneath (y/n)’s waistband, fingers wrapping around his cock like it belonged to him. (y/n) gasped, hips jerking forward.
“No holding back,” Jihwan whispered into his ear. “I want to hear everything.”
His pace was maddening, slow strokes with just enough pressure to keep (y/n) on edge. The other hand moved lower, tugging at the waistband, pushing it down until his fingers found bare skin. He didn’t hesitate. Spit-slicked fingers teased at (y/n)’s hole, slipping one inside, then another, working him open with practiced skill.
“I was thinking about this,” he breathed. “The way you’d squirm. Beg. Maybe even cry if I take my time.”
(y/n) whimpered, head falling forward. “Jihwan, please…”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
That was all it took.
Jihwan pushed in with one steady stroke, deep and smooth, stretching him wide. They both moaned at the contact, Jihwan’s breath catching as he bottomed out.
He didn’t wait long. His hips set a punishing rhythm, driving into him again and again, hands gripping his waist to keep him steady. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the enclosed space, masked only slightly by the hum of backstage equipment.
“Look at you,” Jihwan panted. “Already falling apart. You feel so good around me.”
Each thrust hit deeper, harder, making (y/n)’s legs tremble. The teasing was gone now. This was pure need.
“You want me to cum inside you? Fill you up like you were made for it?”
“Jihwan!”
With a final groan, Jihwan slammed into him one last time and came, hips jerking with every pulse. (y/n) followed soon after, crying out as he spilled into his own hand, body twitching from the release.
Silence settled between them, broken only by their heavy breathing.
Then, Jihwan leaned in and kissed the back of (y/n)’s neck, soft and lingering.
“I’ll be thinking about that every time I dance now,” he whispered, smiling against the skin. “Hope you’ll be watching closely again, hyung.”
can i request a masami fic where reader is like constantly thinking about masami and trying to be soooo normal about it but is actually kinda obsessive but they do end up together somehow and then reader figures out masami matches his freak and they fuck nasty about it 🤭 thank uuuu
— freak like me
masami (all(h)ours) | male reader
warnings: smut, bottom reader, power play, switch dynamics, rough, throat grabbing one time, mutual obsession
(y/n) had a problem. A tall, dark haired, sharp-tongued problem with silver piercings and a smirk like he knew what you dreamed about at night.
Masami.
It was stupid how often he thought about him. The way he rolled his eyes during interviews. The cocky tilt of his head when he danced. How effortlessly he took control of a room like everyone else was just background noise.
(y/n) hated him for it.
Wanted him for it.
Thought about him too much, too hard, too often.
And Masami knew. That was the worst part.
He caught the way Masami’s eyes lingered just a beat too long when they passed each other backstage. The way his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip when (y/n) spoke a little too softly, like he was imagining what (y/n) sounded like underneath him.
But nothing ever happened.
Until tonight.
They were alone in the practice room, after hours. Just them and the mirrored walls. Masami’s tank top hung loose, exposing collarbone, sweat, muscles. His joggers rode low, teasing the sharp lines of his hips. He looked like sin.
(y/n) was trying not to stare. He failed.
“You gonna keep undressing me with your eyes or just say what you want, (y/n)?” Masami said lazily, running a hand through damp hair.
(y/n)’s jaw tensed. “You wish I wanted you.”
Masami stepped closer, their chests almost touching. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmured. “You’ve been looking at me like you wanna ruin me.”
“And you look like you’d let me.”
Masami grinned. “Let you?” He grabbed (y/n) by the collar and pushed him hard against the mirror. “You’ve got the wrong idea, sweetheart. I take what I want.”
(y/n)’s breath hitched. just for a second, but he shoved back, slamming Masami against the mirrored wall in turn. “Then take it,” he whispered.
And just like that, they snapped.
Clothes ripped, hands everywhere. (y/n)’s shirt hit the floor, followed by Masami’s joggers. They were bare-chested, breathing heavy, lips inches apart, cocks hard and leaking between them as they fought for control, grabbing, grinding, biting.
Masami was first to take the upper hand.
He grabbed (y/n)’s wrists and spun him toward the mirror, pressing his chest against his back, grinding up against him with a slow roll of his hips. “Been dying to see you fall apart,” he rasped into (y/n)’s ear. “Gonna make you look at yourself while I fuck you.”
(y/n) hissed, but didn’t resist, not yet. He watched Masami through the mirror, lips parted, eyes hungry.
“Condom,” (y/n) said, voice low and shaky. “Bag.”
Masami grabbed it, tore one open with his teeth, and sheathed himself. He spat into his palm, slicked his cock, and dragged it between (y/n)’s cheeks. “This what you wanted, huh?” he taunted. “Me inside you, fucking you raw against the glass?”
(y/n) gritted his teeth. “Stop talking and do it.”
Masami slammed in. No warning.
(y/n)’s knees buckled, his hands slapping against the mirror as he let out a strangled sound, half pain, half pleasure. Masami didn’t stop. He gripped (y/n)’s hips and fucked into him hard, fast, brutal. His breath was hot against (y/n)’s neck, teeth scraping skin, leaving bruises just to mark him.
“You feel so fucking good,” Masami groaned. “So tight around me. Bet you dream about this, don’t you?”
(y/n) couldn’t answer. Could barely think. His reflection looked desperate, mouth open, eyes glassy, back arching with every thrust.
Masami reached around to stroke him, rough and fast. “Gonna come just like this. Like a needy little slut.”
And (y/n) did, shuddering hard, choking out Masami’s name, body clenching around his cock.
But he wasn’t done.
The second Masami pulled out, (y/n) spun around, grabbed him by the throat, and pushed him down to the floor.
“My turn,” (y/n) panted, pupils blown wide. “You think you’re the only freak here?”
Masami smirked, challenging. “Show me.”
(y/n) straddled him, tore the condom off, and gripped his cock, still wet and twitching. He spat on it, stroked it once, then sank down in one smooth, brutal motion.
Masami groaned, hands flying to (y/n)’s hips.
“Don’t touch,” (y/n) snapped.
Masami chuckled, breathless. “Controlling little bitch.”
“You like it.”
(y/n) rode him hard. Hips snapping, body flexing, head thrown back in pure, filthy bliss. Masami bucked up beneath him, teeth clenched, eyes locked on (y/n)’s chest as he bounced, sweat-slick and moaning.
“I knew you were like this,” Masami rasped. “Knew you were just as fucked up as me.”
(y/n) leaned down, lips brushing his. “Takes one to know one.”
And then he kissed him, hot and open-mouthed, biting at his lip, just as Masami came with a desperate groan, pulling (y/n) down with him.
They collapsed together, breathing hard, tangled limbs and bruised skin and matching smirks.
Finally, Masami muttered, “I told you I’d take what I wanted.”
……because I am violently obsessed with those sexy, veiny, strong arms. They look like they were made to hold me down and ruin me, and I lose my mind every time I see them.…
Genre: Fluff, Smut MDNI 18+
Warnings: Explicit sexual content Dom/Sub dynamics, Daddy kink, Consensual choking, Strength kink, Manhandling (lifting, pinning, fucking against surfaces), Hair pulling, Thigh riding, Degradation and praise, Tear licking, Restraint, Power play, Rough sex, Oral, Fingering
SFW
• He’ll stretch and flex without even realizing it, and you’ll just stand there in complete silence, staring like he’s your Roman god. “You good?” he asks with a smirk. No. You’re not.
• He casually picks you up sometimes. Just. Lifts you. Carries you to the couch, to the bed, wherever. “You’re light,” he says. No big deal. Meanwhile, you’re short-circuiting.
• You asked to feel his biceps once and now it’s a routine. His smug little “Wanna touch, baby?” before flexing? It makes your knees weak every time.
• When you’re out in public and he wraps an arm around your waist, you lean into him way too easily. You live for it. You crave being held by him like you belong to him.
• He wears sleeveless tops around the house and it’s rude. Just big-ass arms and veins and that effortless strength while he’s doing the most mundane shit—washing dishes, opening jars, stretching—and you’re losing your mind in silence.
NSFW
• You’ve begged him to choke you with one hand. He never does it rough without asking, but when you say, “Please, daddy,” in that ruined little voice? Oh, he squeezes. Just enough to feel his grip, to make you gasp, to make you wetter than you thought possible.
• His strength kink is real. You’ll be pinned, lifted, tossed, fucked against walls like you weigh nothing. “Look at you—so fuckin’ helpless when I’ve got you like this.”
• He growls when he fucks you. Not moans—growls. Deep, guttural, possessive. Especially when he’s behind you, one hand gripping your hair, the other flexing against your throat. “Daddy’s got you. You’re not going anywhere.”
• Riding him with your hands on his chest? Forget it. He’ll grab your wrists, pin them above your head, and start fucking up into you, arm muscles flexing like it’s a show. “You wanted to feel how strong I am? Then take it.”
• He’ll pull you into his lap like you’re nothing, wrap those arms around you, and make you grind on his thigh while he kisses your neck. “You gonna cum just like this for daddy? Come on, make a mess.”
• He loves watching your face when he uses just his fingers and his mouth. One thick arm across your hips to hold you down, the other making you fall apart. “Can’t even run, huh? Daddy’s too strong for you.”
• You once said “I want you to ruin me,” and he smirked so fucking slow and replied, “Baby… that’s all I ever wanna do.” And then he did. For three hours. With those arms flexing above your head while he fucked you into the mattress.
• When you cry for him—shaking, gasping, completely fucked out—he licks the tears off your cheeks while he keeps going. “That’s it, sweetheart. Be good and take it. Let daddy wreck that pretty body.”
• Sometimes he doesn’t even let you touch him. Just holds you down with one hand, your legs trembling, your moans breaking, while his other hand works you over. “Look at that. So fucking desperate. You love being daddy’s toy, don’t you?”
…because I’m violently obsessed with everything about him and THAT face card. Like, the “stare at him mid-conversation and forget your name” kind of obsessed.
Genre: Fluff, Smut MDNI 18+
Warnings: Explicit sexual material, Oral sex, Riding, Multiple orgasms, Hair-pulling, Dom/Sub dynamics, Overstimulation, Implied unprotected sex
SFW
• Sometimes you catch yourself just… sighing when you look at him. He’s too pretty. Like unfairly pretty. He’ll tilt his head and say, “What?” all soft and confused, and you’ll just blink and go, “Nothing… you’re just really, really beautiful.”
• His laugh is your favorite sound in the world—light and breathy, like it sneaks out of him. And when he covers his mouth while he laughs? You’re gone.
• Running your fingers through his hair when he’s sleepy is the best thing in the world. He’ll make those soft little humming noises and press his face into your shoulder like he never wants you to stop.
• “You treat me like I’m fragile,” he teases when you cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead. You just smile and go, “That’s because you’re precious.” He blushes every time.
• He’s always touching you—resting his chin on your shoulder, grabbing your hand, leaning into your side—and you love it, because it gives you an excuse to brush his hair back and kiss his temple.
• If you compliment him out of nowhere, he gets this shy little grin and tucks his chin down, hiding behind his sleeve like he can’t handle how much you adore him.
NSFW
• You’ve pulled him in by the hair before just to kiss him harder. He moaned into your mouth and said, “You like my hair that much?” You didn’t answer. You just pulled again.
• He lives for being between your thighs. You could pull him in by the hair and ride his face for hours and he’d still look up at you with wet lips and say, “More?”
• “You’re gonna cum for me again, right?” he’ll ask, licking slow circles around your clit like it’s a dare. Then he’ll suck, deep and filthy, and you always break.
• He moans when he eats you out. Like he can’t help it. Like the taste of you makes him lose his mind. “Fuck, baby… you taste so good. So sweet for me.”
• You’ve literally sobbed on his mouth. Like full-body shaking, tears running down your face, while he keeps licking you through it with a hand on your lower belly saying, “That’s it, let it all out.”
• He loves when you grab his hair while he’s fucking you. The tighter you pull, the harder he goes. “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you like this? So desperate for me.”
• Sometimes he won’t even let you touch him—just lays you out and goes down on you for so long you forget what it’s like to breathe. “Not done yet,” he’ll mumble with his mouth still on you, “You’ve got more in you.”
• You’ve sat on his face before and he literally pulled you down harder. “Don’t be shy now. Use me,” he said, and then started grinding his tongue against you like he needed it to breathe.
• He’ll lick you clean after every orgasm. Every. Single. Time. Even when you’re twitching and whimpering and trying to close your legs. “Come on, baby. Let me have it. I’m not done with you yet.”
