#How i do things and that...my skill still worth It💧

[celibibratty]

Timelapse

[claudaze]

𓏲 ˖. ♡̷̸ 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗩 when you squirt #01

cw. ⋮ smut .ᐟ mdni. ﾒ 筆記 this has been rotting in my drafts for way too long lol. i kept tweaking it every time thinking “ugh it’s not hitting yet” 💧 trying not to make it feel stiff or repetitive ( ew ), so if it finally reads the way i imagined in my feral little mind.. yay !!

ⵌ 𝗸𝘂𝗻

kun is so calm, so put-together all the time that it almost feels wrong when his voice drops to that low murmur and his touch gets commanding. he starts slow, always slow, careful with his fingers, warm palms coaxing you open like he’s done this a hundred times. and he probably has. because kun is experienced. he knows exactly what to do, how to touch you, how to build your body into that sharp, breathless edge. and when you start falling apart, when your thighs tremble and your voice breaks, he knows, he knows what’s coming.

but when you squirt for the first time under him, it still surprises him. not visibly, kun’s not the type to lose control, but his eyes widen slightly, mouth parting as he watches the wetness burst out, soaking his hand, his wrist, dripping down onto the bed like liquid surrender. and then he smiles — slow, deep, fucking devastating — like he’s never been prouder of anything in his life.

“that’s it,” he whispers, wiping his soaked fingers on your inner thigh before diving right back in. “look at the mess you made, baby. you’re amazing.” and there’s something dangerous about the way he says it. like your body obeying him this way has unlocked something in him, a new kind of hunger, a deep possessiveness that didn’t exist before.

he holds your hips still when you squirm, shushing you with kisses, coaxing you through the overstimulation with fingers too skilled, too patient. and it’s maddening. it’s perfect. he’s making you do it again, just to see how much more you can give him. he doesn’t tease. he doesn’t laugh. kun looks at you like you’re art — soaked, ruined, shivering beneath him, and all he does is whisper, “i want to see you like this every night.”

i genuinely think he gets soooooo turned on by your reactions. not because they’re hot ( they are ), but because he knows he did that. also i just KNOW he’d be such a praise-heavy dom but in the most collected, subtle, dad-coded way possible.

ⵌ 𝘁𝗲𝗻

he’s the reason this entire thing exists tbh. i love one (1) chaotic slut. ten takes it personally. like the second he figures out he can make you squirt, he has to chase it. has to see it, feel it, taste it, like it’s a test of his worth. he starts off with that trademark mischief, teasing lips and filthy words, fingers playing with you like he’s already won. but when it happens, when your body jerks, your breath stutters, and the wetness gushes out in a sudden, soaking rush — ten just stares for a second. eyes glazed, mouth slightly open, chest heaving like he’s the one who just came.

and then he loses it. grinning, muttering a breathless “fuck—look at you.” and suddenly, he’s obsessed. fingers pressing deeper, palm grinding against you, trying to trigger it again just to watch it happen. he’s laughing now — low, wicked — not mocking, but delighted. so fucking pleased with what he’s done. it’s messy, and loud, and chaotic, and that’s exactly why he loves it. he cups the mess, licks it off his wrist, rubs it into your skin like he wants to mark you with it.

he gets creative with it. tells you not to hold back. moves you closer to the edge of the bed. even jokes about needing a towel next time, but there’s heat in his voice when he says it, like he doesn’t want to stop until the sheets are ruined and your thighs are shaking. his voice dips into that sexy rasp and suddenly he’s panting out, “you’re fucking perfect like this. i’ll paint with you if i have to. wanna cover the whole bed in it.”

he’s not even being metaphorical anymore. ten’s artistic brain just clicked into overdrive and now he’s looking at your wrecked body like you’re a masterpiece. every tremble, every gasp, every squirt like brushstrokes he created himself.

ⵌ 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘄𝗶𝗻

winwin is not normal. i don’t care what anyone says. he’d absolutely ruin you in silence and then act like he didn’t just make you see god. respectfully terrifying. there’s something eerie about the way winwin handles it, eerily calm, almost cold with how quiet he stays. his fingers move with a purpose, deeply, methodically focused.

he’s watching you come apart with this unshakable stare, eyes locked on your face like he’s studying the exact second your control slips. it’s not even about the act for him, it’s about knowing he caused it. that he did something so visceral, so uncontrollable, it broke through whatever resistance you had left.

when you squirt, the first time, he doesn’t react the way you expect. he doesn’t stop or falter, his jaw sets, the muscles in his forearm flex where it rests against your thigh, and his eyes flick downward to the mess coating his hand like he expected it. like he wanted it to happen and now that it has, you’ve just confirmed something for him.

and god, he’s smug about it. not outwardly, but he keeps going, fingers curling in a slow rhythm that makes your legs shake, and you can feel the shift in the air. like he’s already wondering how far you’ll go for him if he just keeps pushing. he doesn’t speak. doesn’t have to. his mouth brushes your ear and you catch the faintest breath of a command, soft, level, quiet enough to be chilling: “again.”

ⵌ 𝘅𝗶𝗮𝗼𝗷𝘂𝗻

i really think he’d slap your thigh and go “you hear that?” like he knows you’re embarrassed and wants to push it further. menace disguised as a ballad singer.

xiaojun starts off cocky ( 😊 ) teasing words and soft chuckles as he fingers you open, murmuring things like “so wet already?” like it’s nothing new. but when it happens, when your body arches and you squirt all over his hand, his wrist, the sheets beneath, he freezes. just for a second. eyes wide, lips parted, utterly stunned. like he knew it was possible but didn’t actually believe it until he saw it. until he felt it hit him.

the awe bleeds into something darker, needier. he doesn’t laugh anymore, he moans, low and shaky, pressing kisses to your inner thigh like he’s overwhelmed. “you’re... fuck, baby,” he whispers, and you can hear the way it wrecked him. the pure reverence in his voice, like you just unlocked a part of you he didn’t know existed. and now that he’s seen it, he can’t forget it. he keeps repeating your name, dragging his tongue along your folds, chasing every drop like it’s sacred.

it’s not just the act for him, it’s what it means. that he drove you to that point. that he made you feel safe enough, desperate enough, ruined enough to let go like that. and now he’s clinging, mouth warm against your stomach, whispering, “you’re amazing. you’re so—i don’t even have words.” and he doesn’t REALLY. xiaojun loses all composure and suddenly wants to worship you, like he didn’t mean to fall this deep but now he’s on his knees and already halfway addicted.

ⵌ 𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘆

hendery is chaos in the best way. the type to make it fun, hot, overwhelming and weirdly emotional somehow. i fear him deeply. he’d high-five your orgasm. he is way too excited when it happens. the second he feels your body tighten, that rush of heat and wetness that spills out, uncontrolled, he grins. wide, boyish, utterly delighted. “whoa—holy shit, did you just—?” his voice is a mix of awe and absolute glee, like he just found out he has a superpower. he doesn’t stop. doesn’t even slow down.

if anything, he ramps it up, thrusting into you with his fingers, pushing harder, chasing the high like it’s a fucking game. he’s shameless about it. dripping fingers held up to his mouth, tasting it with a playful hum like a chef sampling a dish. “you taste unreal,” he tells you, kissing your cheek like it’s some casual compliment while your legs are still twitching. and he doesn’t let you recover. he’s already shifting his position, rubbing circles into your clit again, whispering, “let’s do that again. i wanna see how far you can squirt.”

but there’s an edge to him, too — a flicker of obsession behind the playful tone. like he likes how unhinged you look beneath him, how undone. he watches your body with a kind of greedy hunger, memorizing the way you tense, the way you cry out, how pretty your thighs shake from the overstimulation.

you get the sense that hendery thrives off chaos, and when you’re this messy, this sensitive, this wet, he’s in his element. he’ll keep going until the sheets are soaked and your mind is blank. probably laughs when you try to crawl away, calling after you with a teasing, “where are you going, baby? we’re not done yet.”

ⵌ 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴

it throws him at first. yangyang doesn’t expect it — he’s confident, sure, but when you suddenly squirt around his fingers mid-rhythm, gasping and shuddering, his brain short-circuits. his movements stall, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like he can’t believe what just happened. and then he looks down, sees the mess on his hand, his arm, the sheets, and something SHIFTSSSS.

he swears under his breath — low, guttural — and you watch his whole demeanor change. the cockiness returns, but now it’s darker. heavier. “fuck, you squirted for me?” he says, almost to himself. like he can’t stop thinking about it even as he starts moving again, sliding his fingers back in, slower now, like he wants to feel every inch of you react.

he gets possessive fast. his mouth finds your neck, his hand grips your thigh, and there’s this growled whisper that sends chills down your spine: “only i get to see you like this, right?” and it’s not really a question. IT’S A CLAIM. he wants to be the only one who gets you this wet, this wrecked, and he’s already planning to chase that feeling again. he starts paying more attention to what makes you gasp, where to angle his fingers, how to build it up just right, like he’s learning the exact combination to make you fall apart for him on command.

he’s breathing hard, murmuring praises that get more explicit the closer you get again, and the look in his eyes is wild. if you squirt again — and you will — yangyang’s going to kiss you through it with a hand on your chest and a voice that trembles from how turned on he is. you’ve broken something open in him. and now he’s going to ruin you on purpose.

note : he would 100% film it ( w your permission, obviously ), just to rewatch it like game highlights. he’s the worst kind of menace — the one who gets humbled, then turns it into a core memory. i’m also scared of him :')

[wrathfulmercy]

☔

Our muses are trapped in a cave on the beach. Alone, almost naked, and waiting for the storm to pass. My muse lights a small fire, and the temperature of the cave isn’t the only heat to rise.

Send me a ‘☔’ For your muse to make a move on mine.

Send me a ‘💧’ For my muse to make a move on yours.

from here

With their wet clothes resting in the sand to dry, Rick and Mason sat at the beach, the waves slowly growing from the self announced storm, but still they both didn’t seem to want to move. It seemed like hours of him listening to her stories from the road until she dragged him into the ocean to test his criticized lack of spontaneity. Of course he was the one mentioning their clothes, but Mason was stubborn as ever and she always kept that special power he couldn’t describe that made him melt into her words.

“I know why you like it here.” he mumbled while she was hugging her knees and turnt her head slowly back to him. “It’s nearly as beautiful as you.” It was this special moment as their eyes met that made him weak and open up about the thoughts he had about her for a long time already and just as she smiled back at him, he felt encouraged to follow the urge his body was giving him whenever he was this close to her. His hand reached out to stripe strains of her hair away from her face, his eyes unconsciously focusing on her lips while he wondered how she would taste. Without control and high from what her laugh did to him, he wanted to lean in, muttering an “I…” as he suddenly got interrupted by her scream of “Noooo!” cause the storm forced their clothes up in the air.

Rick was still too lost in the moment, not able to move as she already got up to run after their shirts and pants, but before her fingertips even grabbed them, a thunder lightened up the sky and made Rick appear behind her. “Don’t, it’s not worth it. Let’s go to the cave nearby until the storm passed, I don’t want us to be electrified.” Even if he already felt exactly like that as she agreed and took his hand to lead him to the cave nearby.

It was the right decision since rain was following the thunder soon and luckily Rick was skilled enough to improvise a campfire with Masons attentive nature which always made her see and find things he didn’t even notice before. He couldn’t explain how she was able to do that, but in the end it didn’t matter now since she was trying to stop her shaking by rubbing her hands up and down her arms and he couldn’t think of anything else than helping her, instead of admitting the fact that it was him freezing even worse and just craving for the warmth of her embrace.

“Hey, come here.” he mumbled with a smile, still heavy on his heart that this sudden storm dared to ruin his probably only chance to kiss her, since Rick always failed in flirting and waited for the perfect moment where he felt confident for once. That moment was gone by now and his new goal was just keeping her close in his arms to protect her like he always did after he first met her.

“I’m sorry you’re freezing now. We should have just left earlier, I just didn’t want to ruin the moment.” he admitted, his eyes lowering to look into the flames, while she was crawling closer, her head resting against his bare chest. Despite her wet hair and the goosebumps that already spread over his body from the cold, it didn’t feel wrong to have her strains clinging to his skin. In fact her whole body felt like burning compared to his own and he couldn’t find the reason why.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” she answered after a break of silence, bringing up a pleased smile on his face as she looked up to him suddenly. Her eyes felt like drowning him, like it always felt when their gazes met, but this time he felt frozen from something else than the cold: it was probably his insecurity forcing him to keep silent. There were no words he dared to say as Mason suddenly lifted her chin, her delicate fingers brushing over his scruff, dancing on his skin as if she was casting a spell on him. Suddenly he felt her movements stop, her hand holding onto his face as she closed her eyes and leaned in, keeping him in a stunned position as her lips suddenly closed on his own. It was like a wave of warmth running through his chest like she was filling him with a fire that came right out of her touch and for a second he hesitated to close his eyes as his lips started moving, not daring to look away from what he desired the most for so long. What started as a light touch, turnt soon into something that came from his lungs, a sound like a hum as his fingers ran into her hair to pull her closer, now heating up their embrace and shifting into desperate kisses that needed too long to be answered.

Unconsciously he wrapped his free arm around her body to pull her onto his lap, the grip in her hair tightening to keep her in this position as long as the lack of air would allow it. There was nothing he could have said at this point, nothing that would honor this feeling in the way she deserved it and that’s why he only focused on this moment, wanting to freeze the time so they never had to doubt and question what they were doing. He didn’t know if it was right or wrong, if he should have interrupted this move when it could be a form of despair in this situation, the only thing he knew for sure was the increase of his heartbeat that was echoing now in his ears, proving him the desire he felt for her and never wanted to admit.

Rick didn’t allow her to pull back, instead he forced her lips back on his whenever she caught some air just to prove her he didn’t want this to end. Not now or ever. And desperate to show her that this wasn’t something he wanted her to regret. In fact he wanted more and wished he could just melt into her.

What words couldn’t say he showed with his body as he laid back while holding onto her. Leading her onto his chest while their lips kept crashing against each other in a demanding mood. The cold disappeared and everything he now felt was the heat radiating from her body which he kept close with his firm grip while their legs now started to entwine to give into the need that both consumed them mercilessly.

@smokinmirrors