WARNING : actual p*rn links (be careful what you watch, i am not responsible for your media consumption), 5 links for each member, anal, squirting, fingering, riding, LOTS of doggy, some really rough ones, throat fucking, sub! idol (mostly wooyoung lowk), overstim, edging, even more!!! be careful!!!
a/n : you MUST be logged into x (twitter) to watch
THIS WORK IS WRITTEN BY A MINOR, BLOCK IF UNCOMFORTABLE!!!
★ seonghwa. p ⋆·˚ ༘ *
perv! seonghwa loves watching your tits bounce while he fucks you <3
should've known those fishnets drive him fucking crazy 😵💫
he likes showing you off and playing with your cunt in front of the members
"you said you could take it, baby"
he thinks you look so pretty sloppily making out with his dick <3
★ hongjoong. k ⋆·˚ ༘ *
he's fallen asleep on the couch, again, so you decide to wake him up with a treat
just him.
"keep going baby, good girl"
he's got you bent over the couch in the studio- letting off some steam
it's only right to help his baby out after letting him use your ass, right?
★ yunho. j ⋆·˚ ༘ *
yunho makes you take his fingers before he stuffs you with his cock
it's halloween and yunho sent you this video, followed by a text that says "be ready."
this.
yuyu loves to see how far he can push his baby <3
he's so mean :( not stopping until you beg him to
★ yeosang. k ⋆·˚ ༘ *
splitting you open on his cock is his favorite past time
stupid boy should've kept his mouth shut, now he's getting his throat fucked
long distance christmas present
finally letting him cum after teasing for hours
in the dorm w college student! yeosang
★ san. c ⋆·˚ ༘ *
he loves making you squirt
he can't help but want to breed you, even when it's 5am and he's fighting with jet-lag
"nu-uh, baby, don't fucking run from it"
making out with your cunt
"how're you gonna take my cock if you can't handle my fingers, baby?"
★ mingi. s ⋆·˚ ༘ *
he loves when you get so brainless you suck on anything you can get your mouth on
you didn't believe your best friend when she said he would rearrange your guts
"keep that arch baby"
mingi gets off to a video of yunho fucking you (poly! yungi)
you're not selfish
★ wooyoung. j ⋆·˚ ༘ *
wooyoung loves a good fight for dominance even if he wins every time
he looks so pretty cumming on his tummy
pretty boy misses you on tour
wooyoung loves being sandwhiched between you and san
in which ,, things san does in your relationship that shows he’s really a gentle giant.
contains ,, more tooth rotting fluff, small smut, small angst (mention of death) bf!san, headcannons
gentlegiant!san who softly kisses you on your any exposed part on your body at random times, whether it being your shoulder, hands, arms, lips, etc.
gentlegiant!san who lifts you up if you’re too short to be seen in pictures
gentlegiant!san who picks you up and carries you around even if youre not taking pictures
gentlegiant!san who texts you “i love you” 50 times a day, just because he thought about you
gentlegiant!san who feeds you when youre sick, even if its just a small cough
gentlegiant!san who buys you flowers just because
– “I got you flowers baby” “why’d you do that?” “there has to be a reason???”
gentlegiant!san who has a crush on you, even tho you’re already together ??
gentlegiant!san who buys you stuff because he saw the way your eyes lit up when you looked at it
gentlegiant!san who refers to you as “mybaby” when talking to other people about you
gentlegiant!san who buys you flowers every monday, so you can start off your week with new flowers
gentlegiant!san who still blushes and gets all squishy when you compliment him
gentlegiant!san who goes so gentle with you when you’re having sex, just wanting to please his baby (but gets a little TOO into it n overstimulates you )
gentlegiant!san who admires you doing literally anything, you’ll look up and he’s looking at you with soft eyes and a small smile
gentlegiant!san who NEVER lets you open the door, or pull your own seat out if you’re with him
gentlegiant!san who gives you lil taps on the butt when you go to the gym with him and you get through your workout 🙂↕️
gentlegiant!san who loves seeing you and his family getting along (makes him wanna marry u even more )
gentlegiant!san who fixes your messy hair when you wake up in the morning
gentlegiant!san who kisses all over you to wake up when you sleep in
gentlegiant!san who acts like he loves whatever food you have even if he think it’s nasty, just to make you happy
gentlegiant!san who sandwiches your hands between his when it’s cold out
gentlegiant!san who eyes soften and smile widens when someone mentions you, or when you walk in the room
gentlegiant!san who loves you with every ounce in his body , your literally the love of his life
gentlegiant!san who finds you absolutely stunning( which can be shown all in his face when he looks at you ), and brags to people about you like your a goddess
gentlegiant!san who would never let you go, even on your last breath
a/n ,, AHH thank yall for the support on my last post 🥳 !! I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 !!
Sucking on yuyu's fingers while he fucks you quick and hard because he has a make up crew waiting for him just outside the door!!
OH GOODNESS the way his hips would smack against yours but he has to try and muffle the sound?? sighhh
ᢉ𐭩 ( jyh ) fem reader nsfw / swearing, established relationship, fingers/hands (all that good stuff), public sex (?), dirty talk, unprotected sex!
yunho had your thighs wrapped around his waist, hips moving faster than either of you could think. his cock plunged deep into your walls, hard and quick.
“mmph— yun—“ your whines came out muffled as drool dribbled down your chin and around his fingers. he groans into your neck before there’s another knock on the dressing room door.
“yunho? are you ready?” the stylist asked softly, not even realizing what was occurring on the other side of that door.
he stifles a moan, “j-just a minute!”
your lips wrap around his thick fingers as you continue to suck on them, trying your best to swallow back your moans.
yunho looked down to where his hips met yours—your clit swollen and puffy from how hard he was thrusting. your arousal dripped down him and onto the couch.
he groaned deep in his chest, low and quiet. “such a good pussy, baby. you like being fucked like this? my fingers in your mouth?”
you nodded your head quickly, too afraid to speak.
his other hand came to grip your hip, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise there. he pulled your hips against his, fucking into you harder.
you gasped, throwing your head back in pleasure. “oh f-fuck—“
his fingers slipped from your lips, now wrapped around your chin as he made you look at him once more.
“yeah?” he smirked. “gonna cum with the crew right outside? probably listening to those pretty moans?”
that only pushed you closer to the edge, your pussy clenching around him as he teased you. he shuddered, his head dropping against your shoulder again.
“we’ll be waiting when you’re ready, yunho.” the stylist spoke again suddenly. “are you okay?”
“f-fine!” he stuttered out. “i’m fine.”
you clenched around him again—purposely—feeling his hips stutter.
“oh, you little—“ he huffed out a laugh before grunting into your skin, his length reaching deeper as he continued thrusting.
˶ˊᜊˋ˶ : hoped you liked this ! ^^ tried my best to tailor it to your request
when they make you repeat yourself mid-sex [ateez x fem!reader]
“What was that?” They heard you. They just want it again.
ateez (separated) x fem!reader | various settings | power play
Genre: smut
Warnings: explicit sexual themes, pwp, dominant/submissive dynamics, choking, bondage (improvised restraint), oral (male & female receiving), fingering, p in v, , hair pulling, breath play, semi-public sex, wall pinning, manhandling, dirty talk, teasing, praise kink, possessive behavior, overstimulation, switch dynamics, creampie, unprotected sex (nooohhh)
wc: ~550 words each
a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve written smut… i’m a little rusty, so please go easy on me :(
masterlist
✧ seonghwa
You’re already trembling when he lowers himself between your thighs again.
The room is warm. Dim. Sheets tangled around your legs. There’s still a thin sheen of sweat across your skin from the last time he made you come, your chest rising unevenly, body hypersensitive.
Seonghwa notices everything. He always does.
He presses a slow kiss to your inner thigh first. Then another. Unhurried. Patient. Like he has nowhere else to be.
“Hwa…” you breathe, half-warning, half-plea.
He hums softly against your skin and continues, deliberate and maddening. Every touch measured. Every movement precise. He isn’t rushing. He isn’t chasing. He’s savoring.
Your hips tilt instinctively, the friction against his mouth making your stomach twist.
His tongue darts out, tracing every fold, circling your wetness, lapping, flicking, teasing. When he finds your clit, he sucks it in, slow and wet, warm, until you whimper. You squirm, fingers twisting into the sheets.
“Seonghwa, too much, stop!” you whisper faintly, trying to push his head away, though your hips betray you, lifting instead of pulling back.
He pauses. Slowly, he lifts his head. His hair falls slightly into his eyes, gaze calm. Composed.
“Say it properly,” he murmurs.
The words are soft. Devastating.
You swallow. Your body is still pulsing from where he left you moments ago.
“Do you really want that?” he asks quietly. Not mocking. Just steady. “If you want that, say it again.”
Your head shakes before you can stop it. He watches you closely.
“Words,” he says.
When you hesitate, the absence of his touch is immediate. Noticeable. His hand leaves your thigh entirely. The loss makes your breath hitch.
You try to push him again. Frustrated. Desperate. He doesn’t give in. Instead, his thumb lazily traces your clit up and down, slow, coaxing an answer through pleasure.
Your body spasms at the touch, hips jerking instinctively.
“Tell me,” he repeats.
You squeeze your eyes shut, flushed, overwhelmed by the need twisting low in your stomach.
“Keep going,” you whisper.
He doesn’t move, thumb still teasing.
“Properly,” he insists, his grin audible in the vibration of his voice.
Your voice breaks a little this time. “Keep going, please.”
The faintest chuckle escapes him, warm and satisfied. Not cruel. Just pleased that you said it. That you chose it.
He lowers himself again without another word. This time he doesn’t drag it out. His patience dissolves into something hungrier, movements faster, less restrained. One hand pins your thigh open as he focuses, relentless now, messy in the way he rarely allows himself to be.
His tongue dives back in, sucking, swirling, teasing every sensitive nerve. Your hips grind down, desperate for friction, and he parts just long enough to look up at you, smiling.
Then he’s back, tongue plunging deep again, and with one hand, he slides two fingers inside you. In and out quickly, curling, hitting every spot that makes you cry out.
Your back arches off the mattress, a sharp cry leaving you before you can swallow it.
And above the sound of your breathing, you hear him murmur softly, almost to himself,
“That’s what I thought.”
✧ hongjoong
The studio smells like warm wires and something faintly metallic. It’s past midnight. The hallway lights are off. Only the soft glow from his monitor spills across the room.
You’re sitting on his lap. Straddling him in his chair, one of his hands still resting lazily on the armrest like he hasn’t fully decided this is happening.
His dick presses into you through his jeans, hard and impatient, and your hips shift instinctively, rolling against him. Your hoodie is half off your shoulders. Your fingers curl into his shirt, wrinkling it.
“Joong,” you murmur, breath warm against his ear.
He hums, distracted. Or pretending to be.
Your hips move again, slow, testing. Sliding down, pressing fully, grinding. His jaw tightens just slightly.
You lean closer. “Touch me.”
He tilts his head. A slow grin on his lips.
“What was that?”
You know he heard you. His eyes are sharp now, completely focused. The cursor on his screen blinks unattended.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Touch me,” you repeat, softer this time. Almost shy.
He studies you like you’re a track he hasn’t decided how to mix yet. One hand slides from the armrest to your waist, thumb brushing just beneath the hem of your hoodie.
“Clearer,” he says gently.
You swallow. “I want you to touch me.”
His smile deepens, not mocking. Just pleased.
“Good,” he murmurs.
He doesn’t rush. Like you didn’t just climb into his lap because you couldn’t wait any longer.
One hand slides down to your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you shiver, guiding your hips against him. His other hand slips under your hoodie, cupping your breast, thumb brushing over the peak.
Your movements stutter for a second.
“You get impatient,” he says quietly. “And then you forget how pretty you sound when you ask.”
You roll your hips again, frustrated at the way he’s dragging this out.
He exhales, finally letting his forehead rest briefly against yours. The patience cracks just a little.
“Say it one more time,” he whispers. Not teasing now.
You don’t hesitate this time.
“Please.”
That does it. His hands tighten. He finally gives in the way he wants to, not rushed, not reactive. Controlled. Decided. The chair shifts slightly under your movement as you grind against him harder.
Outside the studio, the building is silent. Inside, he kisses you like he’s signing his name on something he owns.
✧ yunho
You shouldn’t be doing this on the couch. That’s what makes it worse.
You’re sitting on his lap, back pressed to his chest, legs parted just enough for him to fit between them comfortably.
You’re soaked, already slick from the heat building between you. His middle and ring fingers slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm that makes your breath catch every few seconds.
The slick sounds between your legs are obscene, and Yunho grins, eyes dark, clearly loving every one.
He tips his head over your shoulder, watching as his fingers pull out, spread you open, then sink back in, filling you perfectly again. His other hand slides higher, big palm warm and possessive on your chest, kneading the warm skin there.
His middle finger teases your nipple over your thin tank top, one strap threatening to slip from your shoulder with his eager movements.
He’s holding you like he likes to. Like you belong exactly where you are. His bulge presses hard against your lower back, reminding you of how much he’s craving you.
“Yunho…” you murmur, head tipping back until it rests on his shoulder.
He laughs softly against your ear. Teasing. Unbothered. Like you’re not seconds from falling apart. You press a kiss to his neck, just under his jaw. He hums at that, rhythm never faltering.
“We don’t have long,” you whisper.
Yeosang said he’d be back soon. Any minute. The front door could unlock at any second.
“Relax,” Yunho says easily. “I’ve got you.”
You roll your hips, impatient, trying to get him to move faster. He doesn’t. Instead, he grins, watching the way your breathing stutters.
“What was that?”
You huff softly. “Go faster.”
He tilts his head. “Hm? I didn’t catch that.”
You know he did. The smug curve of his mouth gives him away.
You shift again, desperate now, trying to guide his hand with your movement. His fingers press deeper for a second and you gasp. You clench around him reflexively.
That makes him laugh properly.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “Easy.”
“Yunho,” you whine, more urgent this time. “Fuck. Faster!”
He pauses just long enough to make you regret snapping at him.
“You’re bossy today,” he says lightly.
You buck your hips again, not even pretending to be subtle anymore. That’s what does it. His teasing expression softens instantly. Gone. Replaced with something warmer. Hungrier.
“Okay,” he murmurs.
His rhythm changes. Quicker now. Less playful. More focused. His fingers work you expertly, curling and pressing, coaxing every shudder, every gasp from your lips.
You feel him through your clothes, his cock straining against your back, moving with you, desperate to feel release.
You cling to his forearm as the couch shifts under you. He leans forward, teeth grazing your neck before he bites down gently, right where he knows you love it. Saliva damp against your skin. Your body reacts immediately.
“Yunho, I’m—”
“I know,” he whispers against your skin.
It builds fast after that. Too fast. Your thighs tense, breath breaking apart in sharp little sounds you’re trying desperately to keep quiet.
The release hits hard and sudden. You gush around his fingers, coating them as you clamp down. A shudder runs through you as you press back into him. biting your lip to muffle the noise.
Then, the front door unlocks. Both of you freeze.
Yunho bursts into quiet laughter, breathless and disbelieving. “Perfect timing.”
You scramble off his lap, trying to fix your clothes while he grabs your wrist, dragging you down the hallway toward his room.
“Move, move, move!” he whispers, still grinning.
The bedroom door clicks shut just as footsteps echo from the entryway. You collapse against his chest, trying not to laugh. Yunho presses a quick kiss to your temple.
“See?” he murmurs. “Told you I’ve got you.”
✧ yeosang
The bathroom is thick with steam. Water slides down tiles, down skin, down the sharp line of Yeosang’s shoulders. His hair is darker like this, slicked back, droplets clinging to his lashes.
You press into him first. Your mouth finds his collarbone, then the curve of his neck. You kiss him there. Slow. Open. Your hands drag down his chest like you’re mapping him.
He inhales softly. His fingers hook into your waist, pulling you flush against him. Water rushes between your bodies, heat building despite it.
“Let me take care of you,” you murmur against his throat.
“What?” he asks, not moving his gaze from you.
You kiss the corner of his lips. Then his jaw. Then back to his mouth, slower this time.
“I said,” you whisper, breath warm against his skin, “let me take care of you.”
He hums faintly, like he’s distracted. Like the water is too loud. Like your voice can’t possibly carry through all this steam.
His eyes never leave your lips. His hands slide down your back, squeezing your ass gently, possessively. The other traces up your spine, nails grazing lightly. You shiver.
“Did you say something?” he asks, tone innocent.
You glare at him. He raises one eyebrow. You lean in closer, almost on your toes, water cascading between you.
“Yeosang,” you whisper directly against his ear. “I want to take care of you.”
Silence.
He studies your face carefully. Not teasing now. Just watching the way your confidence flickers under his gaze.
“Say it clearly,” he says softly. “So I don’t misunderstand.”
Heat climbs your neck despite the water. You inhale.
“I want you to let me suck you off.”
There’s no hesitation in you now. Only hunger.
His jaw tightens. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip. He leans down and bites your lip gently before releasing it, just enough to make you gasp.
“You should’ve said so,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to ask like you’re unsure,” he adds quietly against your skin. “If you want something, you tell me. And I’ll decide,” he finishes softly.
You hold his gaze. Something shifts in his expression.
His hand slides to the nape of your neck, fingers threading into damp hair. He pulls you into a deep kiss, sudden and consuming. It’s not slow this time. It’s hungry. Teeth brushing. Breath stealing.
You melt into it.
He breaks it just as quickly. No warning. His hand leaves your neck and moves to your shoulder instead, firm now. Then he presses, gentle, guiding you down.
Your knees bend under the water. Tiles cool beneath your skin as you sink down in front of him. Water runs down his chest, over his stomach, dripping from his fingertips.
He stands tall, chest rising and falling heavier than before. He doesn’t look away. Not once.
His hand slips into your hair, loose but possessive. Not forcing. Just anchoring you there.
“You wanted to take care of me,” he says quietly.
You glance up through wet lashes, and this time, you lick your lips on purpose. His grip tightens just slightly.
“Go on.”
Your hand wraps around him, stroking once from base to tip. Heat slicks your fingers as you trace him slowly, deliberately. Then your tongue follows, licking along the length, tasting him.
He lets out a low sigh, muffled against the water.
When you finally take his tip between your lips, his hand on your hair presses lightly, urging you deeper, guiding every movement.
A groan slips past him. He leans forward, forehead resting against the cold tile behind you, caging you in. Your head tilts with the push, a small gag leaving you as he hits deeper. Your hands clutch at his thighs.
And Yeosang? He doesn’t rush. Just watches you. He loves when you take care of him. He just likes to make sure you really mean it.
✧ san
San kisses you like he’s memorizing you. Slow. Intentional. Like this is sacred.
It’s only the third time sleeping together since you started dating, and everything still feels new. His hands explore carefully, reverently. He praises you between breaths.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs against your mouth.
His lips trail down your jaw. Lower. “You’re perfect.”
He says it like he means every word. And you love it. But tonight the sweetness makes something restless coil inside your stomach.
He’s inside you, slow and steady, every thrust gentle. You push against his lower back, urging him to go faster, but he hums against your neck and keeps his pace. Making you feel good without scaring you off.
Buy you want more.
You don’t think. You just speak.
“Can you… San, I—I want you… Can you tie me up?.”
He stops. Completely. The rhythm vanishes. The warmth leaves you when he pulls out slowly, withdrawing with a softness that feels like distance.
Panic flares instantly. You messed up. You try to close your legs, instinctively retreating, but his hands snap to your knees before you can, holding you open.
His breathing changes.
When you look at him again, he looks different. Still San. But darker, hungrier. His eyes search your face carefully. Not angry. Not confused. Assessing.
He shifts closer, one hand leaving your knee to cup your cheek gently. His thumb brushes under your eye like he’s grounding you.
“Baby,” he says softly. “Look at me.”
You do.
“Did you mean that?” His voice is low, steady. “Or did it just slip out?”
There’s no mockery. No edge, just patience, waiting for you to answer.
You swallow. “I meant it.”
He studies you a second longer.
“You’re not saying it because you think I want to hear it?”
You shake your head quickly. “No.”
His thumb strokes your cheek once more.
“Then tell me,” he murmurs, almost tender. “Tell me what you want. Clearly. So I know you mean it.”
Your heart pounds, but you don’t feel scared. You feel safe.
“I want you to tie me up,” you say, stronger now. “Please. I need you to use me.”
His pupils blow wide. A slow, dangerous smile curves his mouth.
“There you are,” he whispers.
Something in him ignites. He exhales sharply and scrambles off the bed, dropping to his knees to search the floor. His slacks are half-tangled near the nightstand. He grabs them and pulls the belt free in one smooth motion.
When he climbs back onto the mattress, there’s no hesitation. He guides your wrists above your head carefully, checking your expression before looping the belt around them and securing it to the bedframe. Not too tight. Just enough.
When he’s done, he sits back on his heels and looks at you. And you feel exposed in a way that makes your pulse skip.
His hands travel slowly from the belt at your wrists down your arms. Over your shoulders. His knuckles brush your cheek softly. Down your throat. Across your chest. Lower.
Until his palms settle on your thighs, spreading them gently.
“So pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice low. Dangerous and adoring at the same time.
His thumb traces your jaw.
“You tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”
You nod.
His expression softens just a fraction. The sweet San still there beneath the heat. But when he leans down again, pressing his body over yours, there’s nothing hesitant about him anymore.
“You should’ve told me sooner,” he whispers against your lips.
And then he thrusts back in, harsh and fast. Your back arches instinctively, a loud gasp tearing past your lips as you tug at your restraints above your head. San chuckles teasingly, watching the way your body responds to him.
And the way he smiles after that? You know you’ve just unlocked something you’re never going to stop craving.
✧ mingi
The headboard knocks softly against the wall with every snap of his hips. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, towering over you. You’re on your hands and knees, sheets tangled beneath you.
Mingi’s hands are firm on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to leave warmth behind, his rings cool when they first touch your skin and then warm almost instantly.
He’s holding you against him so firmly you feel like you could melt and he wouldn’t let you fall. He pulls you back every time you try to crawl forward, grip firm enough that you feel it in your bones.
“Stay,” he pants. "Don't run away from me."
The sounds he makes are low and wrecked. Like he’s already halfway gone. You love it.
You turn your head slightly, hair falling over your cheek. “Harder.”
He laughs breathlessly. “You’re insatiable.”
He gives you exactly what you asked for. Harder. Rougher. His grip tightens, dragging you back with each thrust so your body jolts forward and back in his control.
His cock drives deep, filling you completely. He angles his hips just right, each hit brushing against your cervix, making your back arch deeper, tilting yourself into him with every thrust.
The room fills with skin smacking, broken breaths and the bedframe shifting beneath you.
He’s close. You can feel it. His rhythm grows heavier. Less teasing. More desperate. Then you whisper it.
“Choke me.”
He falters. Not fully stopping, but enough that the pace stutters.
“What?”
He stops inside you. He needs to steady himself. Mingi's chest brushes your back as he leans down, broad frame engulfing you completely.
His hands leave your hips. One braces beside your head. The other combs your hair away from your face. Gentle. Careful. He needs to see you. Needs to make sure he heard right.
You feel him pressing even deeper, and a whine escapes you, eyes closing, eyebrows furrowing as the sharp ache mixes with pleasure.
Mingi presses a kiss to your temple, soft, almost an apology. His fingers hook under your chin, lifting your face slightly so he can catch your eyes.
“Say that again,” he murmurs, not teasing now. Just caught off guard.
“Choke me.”
That’s all he needs. His expression shifts instantly. His hand slides from your jaw to your throat without hesitation this time. Big palm wrapping around your neck.
“You trust me?” he asks roughly into your ear.
You nod. Mingi gifts you a slight squeeze that makes your breath hitch and your hips press back instinctively, clenching around him.
He pulls you up against him in one smooth motion, your back flush to his chest, both of you upright now. One arm braced around your middle to keep you steady, the other still holding your throat.
The new angle makes you gasp. His grip tightens just a little as he resumes his pace, deeper now, faster. His mouth drops to your shoulder, teeth grazing your skin as a low groan spills out of him.
He likes this. The way you asked. The way you demanded.
Your hand clutch at his forearm, feeling the flex of muscle under your fingers. The other slides to his nape, twisting through the long hair there, keeping yourself steady.
Your breathing turns shallow. Not panic. Not fear. Just that dizzy edge of surrender that makes your head spin.
He squeezes again. Just enough to make your pulse flutter beneath his palm. And he smiles against your shoulder when he feels it.
Mingi loves when you take control. Even when he’s the one holding you up. Especially then.
✧ wooyoung
The party noise outside the bathroom door is loud. Laughter. Music. Someone shouting for another round. None of it matters.
You’re sitting on the countertop, the faucet pressing into your side, cold and inconvenient. You barely register it. Not when Wooyoung is standing between your knees, your underwear on his pocket, eyes lit up like he’s about to commit a crime and enjoy every second of it.
He unbuckles his belt slowly.
You roll your eyes. “Hurry up, Woo.”
He laughs under his breath. “Bossy.”
But he does hurry. The metallic sound of his belt slipping free feels indecently loud in the small space. Your pulse kicks up. You lean forward slightly, impatient.
“Seriously,” you whisper. “Hurry.”
He steps closer, crowding you. His hands slide to your thighs, squeezing once before pushing them wider.
“You’re the one who dragged me in here,” he murmurs.
“Don’t make me regret it, just fuck me already.”
The words barely leave your lips before he moves. He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t tease the way he usually would. One hand tugs his zipper down. The other wraps around himself, stroking once, fast, slick.
Then he presses in. Hard. No prep. Just him, filling you in one sudden, decisive thrust. The sting makes you whine sharply, a sound louder than you meant it to be.
His hand flies to your mouth instantly.
“Shh,” he breathes, eyes wide for half a second.
You both freeze.
Outside, someone knocks against the wall, laughing. Wooyoung’s gaze flicks back to you. The smirk returns. He stays still for one long beat, his palm warm over your lips, his forehead almost touching yours.
“What were you saying?” he asks softly.
He starts to move again. Slow at first. You try to answer, but your words melt into his hand, muffled and useless.
His grin widens. “Oh, I can’t hear you.”
The pace picks up. Not frantic. Controlled. The kind that makes your thoughts scatter. Your head tips back, and it knocks lightly against the mirror.
The sound is small, but in this room, it feels explosive.
Wooyoung’s smirk disappears instantly. His hand drops from your mouth and slides behind your head, palm cushioning between your skull and the glass. Protective without breaking rhythm.
The teasing melts into something darker. More focused. He leans in closer, lips brushing your ear.
“No, really,” he says, voice low now. “Say it.”
Not mocking anymore, commanding.
“Fuck me, Woo!” you gasp, repeating yourself as you cling to him.
His eyes flash at the sound of it.
“Finally got it out, huh?” he murmurs, smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s my girl… exactly what I wanted to hear.”
His mouth drops to your collarbone, teeth grazing, tongue soothing after. His free hand slides lower, palm pressing over your lower stomach, thumb drawing circles on your clit.
The bathroom fills with the sound of your breathing and the quiet, relentless rhythm he’s set.
Outside, the party keeps going. Inside, Wooyoung holds your head steady like he’s the only thing keeping you from shattering against the glass. Bratty. Reckless. But the second it matters, he loves taking care of you.
✧ jongho
The city hums below you. Lights blink in the distance, cars sliding through the dark like quiet comets. The balcony is high enough that no one can see up, but the open air makes everything feel exposed anyway.
Your palms grip the cold railing.
Jongho stands behind you, solid and unshakable, chest pressed to your back. His mouth is against your spine, breath hot where the night is cool, his dick filling you perfectly.
He hasn’t looked at the skyline once.
One arm stays firm around your middle. The other slides lower. His fingers find your clit, making your knees tremble. But he keeps you upright easily, like you weigh nothing.
Your body responds instantly, hips rolling back against him without thinking, pressing him in deeper.
Slowly, the arm that’s around your middle slides upward, hand tangling in your hair, not yanking, just keeping you exactly where he wants you. Bent slightly forward over the railing, heart racing at the height, the adrenaline of being watched.
His rhythm turns heavier. Less measured. Every thrust hits deeper. He’s close. You can feel it in the way his breathing roughens against your skin. In the way his grip tightens just a little.
“Come inside me,” you breathe into the night.
The words float into the dark. He doesn’t react at first. Just keeps moving. Steady. Deep. Focused.
“Again,” he grunts against your shoulderblade.
No smile. No teasing. Just the command.
You arch back into him, voice cracking with need.
“Jjong,” you gasp, voice shaking. “I want you to come inside me... fill me up.”
He exhales sharply against your back. That’s all the confirmation he needs.
His fingers press harder, circling with intent now, pushing you toward the edge with him. His thrusts lose some of their precision, turning almost sloppy with how close he is. But he never stops. Never pulls back. Never breaks the rhythm.
He listens to you. He does exactly what you asked. He wants to make you happy.
When he finishes, it’s quiet. Controlled. A low sound swallowed against your skin as his grip tightens in your hair for a second while he spills deep inside you.
You come seconds after him, forehead nearly touching the railing, the city lights blurring beneath you.
Your walls clench around him, juices mixing, slick and warm. His hips keep moving through it, slower now, drawing your release out like he refuses to let it pass too quickly. His hand doesn’t leave you. His body doesn’t retreat.
He pulls out slowly. Only then does he finally lift his head from your back.
The sudden emptiness makes you whine. The cool night air hits your heated skin, and you feel the warmth of him linger, a faint trail of him slipping down your thigh. The contrast makes you shiver.
His hand immediately steadies you at the waist. He turns you around gently, far softer than he handled you seconds ago. One hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
His expression has changed. The edge is still there, but the fire has settled.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice even. Calm. Watching you closely.
You smile at him, still catching your breath. “Perfect.”
Only then does his mouth curve slightly. “Good.”
He leans down and presses a firm kiss to your forehead. Soft and protective. The city keeps glowing below you. But up here, in his hands, you feel completely steady.
⤷ ゛when they masturbate while thinking about you - scenariosˎˊ˗
٠࣪⭑ ot8!ateez x afab!reader
٠࣪⭑ synopsis ╰┈➤ where each ateez member can't get you out of their filthy head, so they resort to pleasuring themselves
٠࣪⭑ word count╰┈➤ 4.6k (total); 500-600 per member
٠࣪⭑ cw ╰┈➤ masturbation (mdni!), members are lowkey perverts, explicit perverse thoughts [including mentions of face sitting, squirting, implied dom and sub dynamics, p-in-v, overstimulation, fingering, creampie, cum swallowing, cheirophilia, degrading, spanking, oral sex (m & f receiving), praise, body worship, begging], whimpering, mentions of pornographic material
٠࣪⭑ a/n ╰┈➤ vaguely proofread so lmk if i missed a tag
ᯓ seonghwa
Normally Seonghwa wasn’t the type of person to frequently jerk off, especially to a friend such as you, but all he could think about today was your thighs. His gaze raked up and down your skin when he saw you today in those tight little shorts, your thighs spilling out of the denim fabric when you sat close to him on that bench. What started out as a wholesome trip to go eat ice cream, ended with Seonghwa laying on his bed with his throbbing cock in hand.
God, he wanted to lick cum off your legs so bad. That was all that could run through his dirty mind as he touched himself while his sticky, nude body clung to his silk bed sheets. He only had his boxers down at first as his hands gently stroked himself, but the nastier his thoughts became, the more clothes he stripped from his body. By now, his voice went from pathetic moans to him throwing his head back on his sheets and groaning your name. His hands were already so filthy from his fluids coating his balls and his trembling thighs. He was already on the second round, and he didn’t plan on stopping soon.
He didn’t need to turn on porn or look at images of you to cum when the clear image of your legs were burned into him; your legs would’ve been dangling off his shoulders while his cock fucked every nerve in your tight little pussy. He could already see the picture of your folds clenching around him while he was spreading your hole open. You wouldn’t have been nude; Seonghwa would’ve wanted to keep your top on so he could focus on ripping your pants off with his eager hands. Before he would’ve bit your panties off, his tongue would’ve already been down at your clothed core making your legs squirm.
You’re so fucking beautiful, he would’ve muttered into the soft flesh of your thighs after you squirted on him, placing wet, hot kisses on them. Damn you for ordering vanilla ice cream today, and damn you even more for not not stopping it from melting and dripping onto your bare thigh. He wanted to lick it off you just like how he was now imagining him swallowing cum he would’ve licked off of your weak, trembling legs.
He wouldn’t have given you any time to recover before he would devour your pussy like an hungry animal. The grip his hands would’ve had on your plush thighs would’ve made you scream his name. How beautiful your screams would’ve sounded while your sensitive folds felt his lips quivering every time he moaned. It would’ve been sinister; the sound of his salivating tongue and your slick, accompanied with both of your moans, would’ve created such a profound volume.
Such an imaginative brain he had, for the sound alone made Seonghwa’s cock throb harder. Once he ejaculated, his hands fell to the bed sheets. He was ashamed. He knew he was so pathetic for jerking off to his friend that he thought he had a minor crush on, but he supposed that it was just going to be his dirty secret to hide.
ᯓ hongjoong
Hongjoong was so excited to work with you, an upcoming artist, on a developing project. He’d seen how beautiful you were on your social media, ashamedly stalking the page a few times, but he never expected his jeans to feel tight suddenly after listening to a song demo you sent him. This was bad; you were supposed to come to his studio the following day to discuss the demo he was now listening to. Except, he kept replaying the same 20 seconds of your voice in his headphones. The same singing voice that, to Hongjoong, felt like you were seducing him.
His hands were already slowly unzipping his jeans in his chair, his head reclined back and eyes softly closed. He hadn’t even touched himself yet, but he was already being noisy with his whimpers as he imagined you being the one unzipping his pants. He was too lazy to push his pants all the way off, so he kept it above his knees. The stain he saw on his boxers was already getting larger; damn, how could he already be this easy?
He needed you in front of his chair, donning only the low-cut shirt he saw on one of your posts and a slutty skirt. While your voice looped in his headphones, he imagined you climbing onto his lap, your legs straddling him. You would’ve kept your back arched, your bare, damp pussy grinding against his bare thigh, kissing him delicately on his neck while you purred explicit fantasies in his ear. Imagining this already had Hongjoong’s cock twitching in his boxers.
He took his time as he unveiled his cock from the damp cloth. It sprung up; this would've been a great seat for you, Hongjoong thought. The sweat was already dripping down his body. Fuck, he was getting too hot. The shirt he wore became fully unbuttoned by his free hand while his other hand stroked himself. He felt guilty for being so devious, yet he never once slowed down the tempo of his hand.
The once quiet studio that only housed the sound of keyboard clicking and scarce groans was now filled with the yearning producer’s pleading whimpers and begging. He just couldn’t stop thinking about your voice that tasted like velvet in his ears. His tip couldn’t stop oozing precum, especially while he was envisioning you riding him in that skirt that vaguely covered your ass. If only you were here, he’d have his free hands roaming all over that, giving it tender squeezes. He knew your skin would’ve felt so plush. Shit, he was bound to cum soon.
Please let me fill you up. Please, I need to stuff you, he would’ve cooed in your ear with gentle croaks. No, you would’ve wanted him to be louder than that. No one was in the studio with him so late at night, so he could be as loud as he wanted to be. He begged loudly, his hands now pleasuring himself at increased tempos. He couldn’t handle it anymore; his cock pulsated the more his sticky fingers jerked himself off.
When he finally came, he opened his eyes and sat in disappointing silence. He hesitated, but he paused the looped recording of your voice. He felt shame for committing such a vile act and imagining you in such positions. If your voice was enough to make him cum, he was afraid of what your presence was going to do to him tomorrow.
ᯓ yunho
Of course Yunho accepted your invitation to go roller skating. It was the perfect opportunity to get even closer to you even if he knew it wasn’t a date. What he didn’t expect to happen, however, was you spontaneously grabbing his hand in yours while he struggled to skate on the rink. Granted, you were only just trying to help him so he didn’t fall on his ass, but Yunho couldn’t shake the image of you grinning up at him so cheerfully as you commented on how big his hands were in yours.
Nor could he shake the image of you lathering his fingers with your tongue. Yunho stared at the lewd sap that varnished his fingers. He had spent his night with you, and you only, in his mind while pleasuring himself to you. Now, sitting at the foot of his bed, the thought of stopping his sinful act crossed his mind, but the longer he stared at his varnished hand, the more he was enticed to continue.
His hand returned to his length that was dripping in his lust for you. He already came once, but he couldn’t cease his lewd imaginations. The sounds of you whimpering every time he would have stuck his finger deeper down your tongue fueled his lust and desire. Your face, the face you would’ve made, with puffy eyes and tear soaked, maroon cheeks, was something he wanted to fuck senseless. He wanted those tears streaming down your face and soaking the bed sheets while his fingers stuffed themselves in every hole on your body.
He felt so disgusting. Such an unconventional way he wanted to fuck you, he thought. Of course, none of this stopped Yunho from continuing his fantasy from playing out. He imagined the skirt you wore today; it wasn’t short by any means, but it was still easy access for him. The length of the skirt didn’t matter if your skirt would’ve been pooled down at your hips as his fingers pumped inside of you.
You're taking my fingers so well, don’t you think so? Good sluts like you deserve a reward, he would’ve hovered over you examining your pleading face as his thumb drew circular patterns on your outside folds. He would’ve heard your pretty voice beg for him to slide another finger in so he could continue to fuck your tight little pussy. Damn, he was already about to cum again and he wasn’t finished thinking about you just yet. His sap was gushing out of his tip and flowing down his length at the thought of you below him while he sat in between your trembling legs as you cried out to him softly. He would’ve been so proud of himself for being the sole reason you weren’t able to speak a coherent word.
It was more than Yunho could take; his explicit imaginations were too much for him. He hadn’t ever imagined such a graphic and detailed plot, especially not concerning you. He was pleasuring himself so hastily that it was becoming difficult for him to catch his own breath, and when Yunho came all over himself, he stilled himself on his bed and ran his clean hand through his hair, processing what he had just done.
He couldn’t bring himself to go for a round of this; though, he was slowly losing the shame he developed. Instead, he physically ached from how aggressive he jerked himself off. He couldn’t believe it; he had been so shy around you before, but all it took was him jerking off to you twice for him to stare at his phone on his desk, wondering about all the ways he could ask you on a date.
ᯓ yeosang
It was humiliating how hard Yeosang was right now. Or rather it was more humiliating why he was hard. Considering he had just gotten back from seeing you briefly at his apartment, it was jarring how he was now at his desk with his sweatpants pooled at his knees. He stared at it, the growing and twitching bulge in his boxers, and then he glanced up at his lotion on the desk.
And it was all because you encountered his dog at his front door. All you wanted to do was drop off something he left at a friend's house, but his dog jumped on you as soon as he opened the door. He felt shame for conjuring up such perverted thoughts over you calling his dog a “good boy.” Maybe he shouldn’t open up your social media and touch himself to you while you imagined you called him a “good boy”, but who else was going to take care of this issue?
Initially Yeosang hesitantly peeled off his boxers. After some scrolling on your account and witnessing all of the posts up of you in tight, body framing clothes, his hands were already lathered in his lotion. Unlike how he was behaving before, Yeosang was loud, desperate, and perverse. “Good boy”, he whimpered to himself repeatedly with his half lidded eyes staring down at a picture of you on his phone.
His whimpers never stopped; the whimpers and pathetic whines he expressed appeared as if he had never touched himself before. Yeosang may have never jerked off to you before, but it was not foreign for him to vaguely ponder about you having absolute control over him. He would’ve gone on his knees for you and done anything you wanted him to do, anything for you to call him a “good boy”. The image that really had his cock throbbing in his hand the most was his tongue all in your tight pussy, sloppily cleaning out the fluids that dripped out of you. He could feel your hand entangled in his shaggy hair, thrusting yourself into his mouth all while you would moan his name.
The desk chair was rocking and creaking now. It was almost as loud as Yeosang’s strained whines that echoed throughout his entire room, hell, possibly his entire apartment. He struggled to be quiet, but how could be when he was nearly drooling over himself like a dog because he couldn’t tongue fuck your pussy?
Am I being a good puppy yet? Please tell me, I wanna be good for you, he rehearsed that line in his head several times as he imagined his trembling fingers groping your plush thighs as he ate you out ravenously, pushing his salivating tongue further inside your sensitivity. He wanted to taste your lewd cream glossing over his mouth as you came onto his wet lips. He wanted to feel your plump thighs mesh in his hands as you struggled to stand and keep your composure; he’d never been so sure of anything until now.
Yeosang underestimated how much he was going to cum. When he did, it sprouted all over the surface of his desk, staining some of his phone screen. The irony was not missed; he had tried so hard to remain pure and tame around you, yet now his own semen was on his phone screen while your pictures were displayed. Damn, if calling his dog a good boy was already enough to make him behave like this, then he should be wary when he sees you again.
ᯓ san
You were yammering about something mundane. Something that was initially interesting to San. As soon as you began eating your popsicle, however, he zoned out on everything except the icy rod moving in and out of your mouth after every sentence.
“It’s crazy, because you know I’d never do that to her.” In. Out.
“But it’s all good, who needs a friend like her anyway.” In. Out.
“You know what I mean?” In. Out.
You had stared up at him with those innocent, oblivious eyes, your popsicle hanging loosely in your grip. His gaze kept switching back and forth between your lips and the popsicle, unsure on where he should focus his gaze at. It was just the way the melted ice glossed on your lips and on your fingers. The longer he stared, the deeper his imagination ran, and the quicker he had to get home.
And when he did, San immediately locked himself in his room, despite already living by himself, and fidgeted with the bottle of lube in his grasp. He was so horny, so riled up, that he could barely open up the bottle with his trembling fingers, which frustrated his already pent up lust for you.
His other hand trembled around the button of his jeans, the fabric tense around his groin. The article of clothing fell down to the ground and the lube from the now opened bottle coated his throbbing length.
He wasted no time; he already had the image of you sucking his dick clean off the moment he saw you with that popsicle. All of his fantasies about you were disgusting. He imagined his fingers entangled in your hair, controlling every movement and the tempo at which you gave him head. He would’ve made you go deep. So deep that his tip would’ve slammed against the back of your throat.
It was foreign for San to immediately start jerking himself off so viciously, as he’s already hurt himself before because of that in the past, but the slow tempos he was so used to weren’t stimulating enough. Fuck, he was pleasuring himself so fast. The beads of sweat drew down from his temples and his neck almost as fast as his precum from his tip. But he wasn’t done yet. He hadn’t gotten to think about all of the degrading names he would’ve called you as you went down on him.
You’re taking this dick just like a whore. You’re fucking filthy, he continued to grunt in between his teeth to himself, imaging you on your knees in front of him with your hair in his tight grip. His actual hand, in contrast to what he was saying, quivered on his bed post, the sweat exuding onto the worn wood. He was dangerously close to cumming all over his legs, that also were now shaking and draped over the edge of his bed.
The fluid squirted and flushed over his legs. He cringed at himself for allowing himself to lose composure so fast. Despite the tough talk he talked, he whimpered all too submissively at the sight of him cumming. San allowed himself to sit at his bed for a second to catch his breath. His shirt was not only soiled with his lustful fluid but with sweat that stuck to his dewy skin.
On top of that, he, unexpectedly, developed a cramp in his wrist. He shouldn’t have done this. It was wrong and it hurt himself, but San couldn’t help but not care about such things at the moment. Especially not when he knew he was going to text you to come over to his place after he cleaned himself up.
ᯓ mingi
Mingi watching your titties bounce while you straddled his lap wasn’t something he had the pleasure of doing, but he thankfully had a vivid imagination.
Where did he get the idea to sit at his desk while his hand was gripped tightly around his cock as he attentively watched porn on his desktop? Well, you made the decision to stretch while wearing the shortest crop top he has ever seen you wore; and because he was already being a pervert and eyeing your body up and down, he caught sight of your lacy bra cupping each one of your breasts for a brief moment. Despite the lewd thoughts he constantly thought about you, Mingi was not the type to ogle so intensely until now.
His fingers trembled among his computer mouse as he searched for the right woman that favoured your face and body. Normally he wasn’t this picky about what content he watched, but it didn’t hurt to get an accurate representation.
Bingo. Mingi’s search proved to be worth it. The thumbnail of the video displayed a woman who could’ve passed as your doppelganger from afar. Of course no time was wasted after that discovery. Not while his hand was already discarding his tight sweatpants off of his legs.
His room was so dirty. Precum oozing down his length accompanied the sound of wet slapping and sweet, pleasurable moans from his monitor. Mingi’s dick was already solid hard at the mere thought of you, but being able to touch himself while he dreamed of fucking your tight hole as you sat on his dick almost made him cum completely out of his mind. Fuck, he was jerking himself off so disgustingly. So lustful and desperate to the point where he rolled his hips to stimulate the feeling of you actually hopping on his dick.
He wasn’t even looking at the screen at this point. Mingi’s eyes were kept shut, occasionally fluttering open to take another curious peek at the monitor. It was embarrassingly evident that he was about to finish on himself so early, but his increasingly loud whimpers and mindless begging were the foreseeable signs of him cumming. Besides the uncontrollable twitching in dick.
And when Mingi finally came, the lust vaguely draining from him all the way down to his meaty thighs, he thought to himself about how this wasn't enough for him. Since the porn continued to ring in his room loudly, it didn’t take long for him to get hard again. This time, knowing an injury was incoming, his wrist completed the vertical movements of his strokes at a considerably slower speed.
Fuck, baby. You’re taking me so well, just like a good girl, his eyes once fluttered shut, drawing the picture of you riding him so effortlessly. He imagined his hands cupping your bare breasts, the hem of your top being bitten in between the rows of your gritted teeth to hold back every pathetic sound you made, especially when your nipples would be fondled every time his finger ran over them.
It was normal for Mingi to feel shame and guilt after jerking off to you, especially twice in one sitting, but this time he couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe that was the hormones talking, but he began to feel a sense of excitement to see you again. Not necessarily just to eye fuck you again, but maybe he would finally gain confidence to tell you how he feels about you. Then hopefully that leads to you two actually fucking.
ᯓ wooyoung
“I like your nose.”
“I still don’t know why sh- huh?”
“I said, I like your nose.”
He was in the middle of rambling to you about your idiotic coworker until you randomly interrupted him. Sure, he noticed you staring more attentively at his face than usual, but he had no idea you were going to just talk about his nose, let alone mention how much you like it.
It was just an innocent compliment from a work colleague; he knew there wasn't any ulterior motive from you. That didn’t matter though. Not when he was in bed that night feverishly grinding against his pillow fully clothed. Admittedly, this wasn’t his first time he dry humped his pillow thinking about you, but that only happened because you wore tight clothes to the office some days. Today was different though; something ravenous flowed through him when you innocently complimented his nose.
Wooyoung was going insane. He’s never felt such intense horniness over a simple comment until today. Normally it was easy to relieve himself with his pillow only, but he craved more. His pillow was thrown to a random corner of his room before he yanked off his shorts and boxers altogether. There it was throbbing and yearning for stimulation.
It wasn’t long until he was laying on his bed sheets as his palm pumped his cock. The desire he had to feel you quivering legs straddling his face while his tongue lapped your sappy folds was deep. Fuck, he was salivating just at the thought of your pussy being spread by his tongue. You would’ve rode his face so well, and every time his nose would’ve bumped closer to your clit you would’ve let out such a sinister sound.
Fuck, he wished he at least had your underwear so he could smell the sweet aroma you exuded while he jerked off to his fantasies. All he wanted was to hear you beg him to bounce on his big nose. God, he would’ve given you exactly what you wanted without hesitation. The only thing that would’ve been heard was Wooyoung sucking on your wet, swollen folds as his lips rippled sensational moans into your throbbing heat and the rocking bed from you fucking yourself on Wooyoung’s nose.
This is my fucking pussy, okay? Wooyoung imagined all of the dirty things he’d mutter into you to accelerate the tremble in your straddling thighs. And when your warm fluid would finally run down his face, his tongue would’ve lapped your sensitive hole to taste you. Wooyoung couldn’t handle the extent of his fantasies. With his sore wrist pumping his cock, it twitched under his grasp one final time before he spurted on stomach.
The orgasm that escaped from him was lewd; lewd like you were the one that jerked him off instead. Wooyoung had never made such a sound by himself before, let alone without watching porn or playing an audio. Even in the previous times he had fondled himself to the thought of you, he’d sit at his desk and imagined the two of you in whatever video he had running.
He knew he was so screwed. Thankfully, he had the weekend to wait for his obnoxiously rampant horniness to dial down. No, he didn’t want to think about what would happen when he sees you at work on Monday and if he was even going to be “normal” by then.
ᯓ jongho
“Whose pussy is this?”
Jongho’s fingers stickily glided along his throbbing length as he sensually spoke to himself. His eyes remained closed, fully immersed in the story he had curated in his mind. In the background, a pornographic audio played: an audio that Jongho frequented often when he wanted a quick fix. This time, he pretended that all of the sounds that emitted from the computer speakers were real. Real like he was actually there to witness you moan and beg while bent over because of him.
Jongho had class; he always thought of himself as the type to save special, intimate moments like sex for a special person he shared mutual admiration for. So why was he touching himself slowly while picturing you in his head?
He knew it was a little disrespectful to think such things about a friend, but you shouldn’t have worn those tights jeans today. And you definitely shouldn’t have bent over in his vicinity. Damn, the memory entered his head again as he thought more about you. It almost annoyed him how oblivious you were, and it angered him to know that he couldn’t do anything to you at that moment. To him, you acted like such a disobedient slut. A whore who should’ve known better than to wear that, do that. And whores like you, in Jongho’s mind, needed correction.
What started off as a mildly tame jerk off session became aggressive, almost threatening. Jongho stared down at his own dick, painting a picture of your ass posted up right at his tip. He would’ve taken his belt and spanked you to teach you a lesson, just so your cries and whines could fuel his growing desires. And when he felt satisfied with your obedience, Jongho imagined fucking your dumb brains out, one hand on your hips, controlling every thrust he pounded into you, and his other hand forcefully keeping your face planted on whatever surface was in the area.
If you wanna dress like a cheap slut around me, you’ll get fucked like one, by now, Jongho’s fantasies have gotten out of control. With the wet noises he heard in the audio, this experience felt different than how he normally masturbated. His mind was clouded with visions of your ass rippling every time his groin slammed against it. And don’t even mention how his mouth salivated at the thought of it moving like ocean waves every time he would’ve whipped it. These thoughts drove him and his cock insane. No one had to know all of the dirty language he used to describe you. Especially not you.
Jongho couldn’t bear it anymore, and it was evident in the rhythm of his hand becoming irregular. He wasn’t accustomed to such intensity. Perhaps it was because Jongho thought about you this time or maybe because he didn’t hold back that he came with so much of his body quivering. He prolonged his stay at his desk in shame. Not a singular muscle moved, not even to silence the porn or wipe the beads of sweat off his temples, for a few minutes. How was he going to behave around you now that he finally committed this act?
Despite these thoughts and questions, he never once felt regret. He figured that the catharsis he experienced outweighed the uncomfortable questions regarding his morality and your friendship.
٠࣪⭑ a/n ╰┈➤ yo im actually the worst SIKSNHSJ i said ts was gonna come out like 5 different times... sorry guysh....im not super proud of this one which is annoying b/c this took me so long since writing nsfw for 8 different ppl is hard when you're trying to keep it unique </3 i hope yall still enjoyed though. I didn't proofread b/c i was trying to get this out NOW!!! but if there were any mistakes please lmk ₍^. .^₎⟆ also r yall excited for the ateez cb bc i am!!!
random boyfriend gestures i associate each of them with.
[ (ateez) ] | more random fluff, established relationship, soft thoughts | warning/s: none, this feels very parasocial
홍중 — 「 hongjoong. 」
⤷ always keeps direct eye contact with you when you’re talking to him. he wants you to know he’s listening to everything you’re saying. no matter what, he’ll stop everything and put his full focus onto what you’re saying. responds with more than just hums or nods, asks questions and gets involved. the way he looks at you never fails to make you blush, words fumbling as you get lost in your own story. hongjoong just laughs, a smirk curling on his lips - “it’s okay jagiya, take your time.”
성화 — 「 seonghwa. 」
⤷ dresses up for every occasion. there isn’t a single event or date that you two go on that seonghwa isn’t dressed up for. the money helps but he has incredible fashion sense on his own. it always makes you proud to have a man that cares about his appearance and knows how to use that skill properly, never leaving the house looking anything but incredibly put together - he secretly puts in more effort when he learns this.
윤호 — 「 yunho. 」
⤷ incredibly patient with you. it might seem simple, but he never gets frustrated with you no matter how hard you might be to teach. likes to teach you how to play his favorite video games, and even if you suck, he’ll just set his big, warm hands over your own and guide your fingers exactly where they need to be. he just doesn’t know that the reason why you suck is because you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s leaning over you and how good it feels.
여상 — 「 yeosang. 」
⤷ when he’s trying to focus on something, he always ties his hair up into a loose messy bun, with a few stray blonde strands. sticks his tongue out as he does whatever he’s doing. you find it so attractive even when he’s simply just reading, watching the way his eyes zone in and with his hair tied back... you just love it when he ties his hair back.
산 — 「 san. 」
⤷ presses kisses to your forehead. no matter the occasion, whether you’re upset or he’s leaving or the two of you are just sitting together watching a movie. he likes to remind you that he’s there, so every so often he lean towards you, causing you to blink in surprise, before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead - his lips are always soft.
민기 — 「 mingi. 」
⤷ reaching anything that’s too high. even if you’re tall enough to reach something, he’ll still make a habit of grabbing it for you. likes being able to do things for you, but mainly it’s because it gives him the chance to subtly show off his muscles, stretching his arm up next to you, leaning in close to you. every single time it takes your breath away, leaving you a flustered mess as he goes back to whatever he was doing before. and every single time he leaves with a shit-eating grin.
우영 — 「 wooyoung. 」
⤷ sets his hand on your lower back to guide you places. doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, every single time he’ll be there right behind you, guiding you. makes you feel safe and protected, and he knows which is why he does it. a simple way to show he’s there without having to say anything and the feeling of his hand on your back never fails to cause goosebumps. he also leans close too, letting his breath fan across the back of your neck as he guides you forward.
종호 — 「 jongho. 」
⤷ gives the absolute best messages. never ever complains either. he likes to be able to calm you in any way he can, whether that be when you’re stressed or just simply something to make you comfortable. he’s incredibly good with his hands, knowing exactly where to press or rub - does it without expecting anything in return cause he just wants to make you happy.
pairing - bf!San x fem!reader slight bf!San x bsf!Wooyoung x fem!reader
⭑루안: (yk the drill by now) love doing these when i cant write my longer projects, these r less then mingi n yunho but they r longer so its acceptable?
likes, reblogs n comments r appreciated!! requested!! keep them coming!!
series masterlist
bf!San whose - love language is acts of service (and physical touch). He jumps out of bed whenever you need something during cuddle time. If you say you’re hungry and try to get up, he’ll spring to his feet and gently push you back into the blankets, saying, “I got this, baby,” with the most serious, side-quest-accepted expression on his face.
bf!San who - falls asleep the second he gets into bed with you. You could be watching a movie or having silent reading time - the moment he feels your warmth or smells your shampoo, he knocks out instantly.
bf!San who - has to cuddle something when he sleeps, whether it’s your plushies or you. And when it’s you, he drags you with him wherever he flips, strong arms wrapped around you, rolling you over like a weighted teddy bear and almost giving you whiplash in the process.
bf!San who - smiles at you in the mirror whenever you’re getting ready. He’s so proud of how beautiful his girlfriend is, and even prouder watching you make yourself even prettier. Half the time, you catch him just staring at you with that soft, proud grin, dimples out on display.
bf!San who - throws you over his shoulder whenever he wants you somewhere. If he wants you to come cuddle on the couch and you agree, he scoops you over his shoulder and carries you there like it’s nothing. And when you’re being bratty and refusing to do something important, he does the same - and you always end up giggling and lightly hitting his back, asking him to put you down.
bf!San who - drives to every drinking function because he cannot handle his alcohol to save his life. He insists on always being the driver so you can drink without worries.
bf!San who - can’t cook but always tries for you. Whenever he has a break or gets home early, he texts you asking if you’re craving anything. And you already know that means you’ll either need to order takeout later… or have 911 on speed dial because he’s going to burn something (you love him, but he really will).
bf!San who - needs cuddles after concerts. You wait backstage on some random couch with your phone, and the moment he comes back - sweaty, exhausted, but glowing - he walks straight into your arms and curls into you, his cheek pressed to yours as he watches whatever’s on your screen. The guys tease him for being so clingy, but they love how soft and grounded he is with you.
bf!San who - is completely unaware of his size and will full-body lay on you if you’re lying on the couch. He takes any chance to cuddle, head tucked in the crook of your neck or smushed into your chest.
bf!San who - has a calendar in his phone dedicated entirely to you - your appointments, your period, your anniversary, everything. The nail appointments are the most sacred of all; he always suggests colors and shapes. (He absolutely gives stiletto-nails energy.)
bf!San who - sends you gym pics every day he’s there — which is most days. Sometimes they’re cute smiling selfies, but other times he lifts his shirt or pulls his sweats lower to show how well his lower stomach and v-line are coming in, muscles flexed, smirk sly and proud.
bf!San who - gives you the puppy eyes whenever you take your shirt off, and don't have a bra on, pleading with his eyes to touch them, he isn’t scared to beg. When you nod his hands fly to your chest, kneading, squeezing, and not letting go until he absolutely has to.
bf!San who - loves when you scratch his back during sex, or every kind of mark you put on him, but his favourites are bite marks in his biceps, and nail scratches on his back. Him feeling it the next day, his shirt stretching over the tender and red skin during practice is his favourite kind of pain.
bf!San who - will drag you to the gym with him, forcing you saying it would be a great bonding opportunity, but ends up fucking against every equipment he can, standing up against the mirror, showing his own muscles off, putting you on any flat surface, breathing small nothings into your ear. He can't resist touching you when you’re wearing those little skin tight gym shorts, and the way they stretch over the flesh of your ass, he is a dead man.
bf!San who - knows you’re acting up for a reason, sending him teasing pictures throughout the day, wearing skimpy clothes around his bandmates just to piss him off and he isn’t scared to put his little brat into place. “say you’re sorry baby. Say you’re sorry for being a fucking brat” he grunts into your ear, emphasizing every word with a sharp thrust of his hips, or a slap on your ass.
bf!San who - isn’t exactly the oversharer, except to Wooyoung, but he tells him every little detail he likes about you, from your nails raking through his locks, to that pitch you moans his name at when he’s reaching that gummy spot in your walls, and Wooyoung will tell him what to do to help put you to your place, when he sees what pictures you just sent him during practice. And San can’t help but wonder about how hot it would if his best friend helped him out with his little girlfriend.
“i just need you to tell me what to do” you mumble, tears streaking down your face. it all comes down in a second, mingi staring down at your pink cheeks and trembling lips against the pad of his thumb when he gives another stroke on the skin.
you shiver, letting out another sob.
mingi tangles his fingers into your scalp, bringing your head back to see your throat bobbing up and down in cries. “and will you do as i say, pretty?”
you nod.
he caves in.
your whole body throbbing for him, chest heaving fast in the same rhythm as he takes the oxygen in his lungs hands cradling your face to pull you closer to his awaiting lips. he devours you, you can hear, feel his words mumbling into your mouth, such words as “you have no fucking idea what you do to me y/n” followed by a muffled grunt when mingi takes your hand and rut his prominent hard on to prove his point.
“feel this?” you moan into his mouth, his eyebrows furrowing together momentarily like he’s focusing on the noise you let out each time he touches you. “this is all yours baby.” he mumbles against your lips, his hand disappearing under your sundress without you even noticing.
“and this is mine, right?” the question sounds so rhetorical that you don’t even answer. “of course it is. you always craved for something more,” he pauses, his fingers caressing the outline of your soaked lips welcoming him in.
“- and i was always here.”
heat pools in your stomach. you have to clutch his shirt in your hands to not trip over him as he pushes one finger in your soaping cunt, the noise waking you into another fantasy as mingi tests the waters.
“you want me to tell you what to do?”he breathes into the shell of your ear, forehead touching yours as you cling into him. he mercilessly moves his fingers - now not one but two - inside you like there’s no tomorrow, making it impossible for you to answer him properly. once again you nod, the words stuck in your head no matter how much you fight.
you don’t pick your head up. you cry in the crook of his neck as overstimulation and the feeling of being edged takes you into another ecstasy.
“i want you to sink to your knees and wrap those pretty lips around my cock how you always wanted.”
it’s feels like air got knocked out of you.
“your dumb boyfriend never talked to you like this before.” it’s not a question. he knows. he’s always been here. been where you talked to your friends privately about your sexual differences with your boyfriend, and how badly you wanted to have mingi just once. it’s like he always knew.
“b-but how….-“
he smiles. his fingers stopped moving and you just now notice when his fingers finds familiarity against the softness of your bottom lip.
“open.”
almost immediately you obey, letting his arousal covered finger coat the muscle in your mouth. he groans when you suck on it instinctively, slightly hollowing your cheeks in the process.
“unfortunately we don’t have time for all this here baby.”
and just like that, the rest of the night was all just a blur. you wish you could remember how you ended up in mingi's car, his seat tilted all the way back as he roams his veiny hands all over your waist from the back. it was so risky sneaking out from the fuction with your other friends and not mentioning your boyfriend still being inside the hangout place. it as out of hand honestly, how easy and pathetic you were being the second mingi stepped in the room with your shared friends.
"do you want your boyfriend to watch you? being all helpless and get fucked by someone else, huh?” mingi’s whispering is almost like he spits the words from his mouth while his fingers knead your flesh on your waist, dragging your clothed heat all over his hardened crotch. you moan and almost drool at his tone, you can practically feel his bulge bumping against your lips, taking one of your hand to bring it just where you need it the most.
he grunts lowly, bringing you down all the way so you wouldn’t move around so freely. “i’m gonna fuck you just how you want it. but you have to talk to me, pretty.”
ever so slowly he grinds up into your awaiting heat, moaning at the feeling of your being so ready to take him as whole. the eagerness in your body and your voice turning pitch high as you stutter words out due to the overwhelmness, a shiver running through your body as you feel him more intensely from time to time.
“you can do that f’me, right?” his delicate finger swipes the hair out of your face, tilting it by your jaw to look in his eyes. “be good and keep your hands on the dashboard.”
mingi says warningly, his warm breath hitting your skin all while his other hand snakes to your front, and with just one hand he scrunches up your dress and yanks the panty material down enough so he can position you over his crotch once again. steadily, you try to glue your hands on the dashboard just how he asked you, but the minute you pick your head up, you see a few figures already leaving the building just where you two came from a few minutes ago. “m-mingi i don’t think it’s a-“
“looks like we’ve got an audience baby,” he chuckles lowly, his finger swiftly pulling your panties to the side as his pulsing cock settles between your wet folds and moans at the feeling. “fucking hell.” he mutters lowly mostly to himself, your cries and whines about getting caught no longer worrying him.
“come on, don’t be shy now. this is what you wanted, right?” he pulls you by your hair softly when you couldn’t stop crying, your entrance throbbing against his red and wet tip as he grunts into your ear. “you’re gonna take it while your boyfriend is searching for you, not knowing a single thing about that you are crying over my cock.”
and with his last word he pushes his wide tip right into your awaiting soaping cunt, immediately welcoming him just like you were fit for his length. it fill you up so quickly and perfectly your body squirms against mingi’s touch as he holds you down in his embrace. both of his hands cradled around your figure, one of his hands around your waist, disappearing between your legs as he tries to ease the sudden pain from his length on your clit, the other still tangled in your scalp as he keeps his eyes glued on the moving figures right in-front of the building a few meters away from his car.
“move your hips baby, ride me.” he whispers once again, feeling your liquids pooling around his eracted member when you try and move. the feeling of him being finally inside you almost sends you spiraling, his cock hitting the perfect spots as he tries not to, but eventually ruts into you from the back all while you drag yourself up and down on him. his finger works wonders on your already puffed clit, his other hands massaging your sore flesh on your ass.
the noises coming from mingi it simply something you never even dared to dream about, but now hearing him almost whimpering your name out between thrusts sends another wave of pleasure in your tummy.
"f-fuck, mingi, you're so big!" you pant between sobs, the air getting stuck in your throat the more you move on his length. he rubs your soaping nerve in tight circles, fast and then slow, leaving small almost breath-like kisses along your spine through your shirt. he mumbles into your clothes, his hips never seeming to stop meeting yours in desperate thrusts.
the shadows covering his car in the parking lot almost completely hides the two of you out from the other's perspective, and when you could finally let your climax reach you there's a sudden buzzing coming from the drivers seat.
"look who do have here," mingi mocks, a disgustingly confident smirk paints his face when you turn your head in his way only to see him having your buzzing phone in his palm, the name of your boyfriend flashing on the screen in dizzying white. your whole body freezes, and the chuckle mingi lets out simply has you crying more. "somebody's looking for you, pretty." he presses a kiss on your nape, rolling his hips into you in a mean thrust.
"pick it up." his voice is laced with such allure, that you can't deny him. the pad of your thumb slides across the accept line and you hear a small curse coming from mingi.
"y/n? are you there?" your boyfriend speaks after a beat passes and you feel mingi start to move again inside you in an infurating pace.
"ngghn...- y-yes, i'm here!" you whimper out, mingi's finger circling your clit in deeper strokes, your body quivering in his hold.
he slides his hand around your throat, the pulsating veins under his palm making his cock jump in anticipation, dragging you down by your neck all while you try and keep your whines down. "where the hell are you? I've been searching for you for hours now!" the prick of your boyfriend shouts in the phone as your hand shakes from trying to keep the microphone as far away as possible.
"mhmm....please, mingi I-" you mumble under your breath as much as you can, his palm slowly cutting the air flowing in your throat. "tell him whose cock is fucking you right now. tell him,baby."
you almost cry out from his deep strokes reaching your cervix from behind, his hand softening his hold on your skin as a sign to talk to your boyfriend. you wish you could throw your phone out the window, but not when mingi is fucking you so well, your climax dangerously building up once again. "tell him."
mingi feels your walls tigthen around his cock as he picks up the pace and massages your clit with his and your precum, his eyes practically glued to your bodies connecting right where he wants them to. you meakly take a shaky breath to cover another sob (or rather a pathetic whimper) coming out as you keep your eyes on your boyfriend's figure in the distance.
as mingi keeps rutting into you from behind and you desperately meet him in halfway you almost drop the phone from your hold, squeezing your fist until your knuckles turn white.
"she's a little busy right now."
mingi takes the phone from your hands and swiftly opens it, all while wearing a shit eating grin as he takes a photo of what he sees.
"do you mind calling her back a little later?"
a/n: happiest (late) birthday for my one and only ult!!! i quite literally tried to finish this by yesterday but obviously i didn’t have any motivation to do it AND WHEN I HAD my whole tumblr collapsed and i feel like this is poo. whatever. i need mingi nevertheless.
important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.
@ astrasng 2026
⋮ do not copy, translate, steal, or modify without permission! ⋮
