LEE MINHO

Minho is cruelly playful and precise. He has you on your back with your legs folded against your chest, his cock dragging slowly against your sweet spot. He takes a deep hit, then grabs your face with both hands, squeezing your cheeks so your mouth opens like an obedient little toy. With a wicked smirk he presses his lips to yours and forces the thick smoke down your throat while snapping his hips forward.

“Held it like a good kitten,” he praises mockingly when you start to squirm. He doesn’t let you exhale immediately, instead he bites your lip and fucks you harder, only allowing you to breathe when your lungs burn. The moment you cough out the smoke he’s licking into your mouth again, tasting the desperation on your tongue. He repeats this over and over, using the shotgun kisses as torture, edging you until you’re crying and begging.

Minho especially loves doing it right when you’re about to cum, blowing smoke into you while choking you lightly, watching your eyes roll back as your orgasm crashes through the haze. He thrives on the mess: drool, smoke, and tears running down your face while he calls you his pretty, pathetic slut. After he’s done using your mouth and pussy, he finally softens, pressing gentle kisses to your smoky lips and stroking your hair.

SEO CHANGBIN

Changbin is intense, feral, and completely unrestrained when he gets like this. He has you on all fours, back arched deeply as he rails you from behind like an animal. His thick, muscular arm is locked around your throat, biceps bulging against your neck while his heavy cock stretches you open with every brutal thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he suddenly pauses just long enough to grab the joint.

He takes a massive, lung-filling hit, then yanks your head back harshly by your hair, forcing your back to arch even more. Without warning, he crashes his mouth against yours in a rough, dominating kiss and blows thick, heavy clouds of smoke straight down your throat. “Take every fucking drop, princess,” he growls deeply against your lips, voice raspy and drenched in lust.

The force of his relentless pounding combined with the sudden rush of smoke makes your head spin instantly. Smoke pours out from the corners of your joined mouths as he kisses you sloppily, his tongue invading and claiming every inch of your mouth while he keeps fucking you mercilessly. His huge body cages you in, muscles flexing and sweat dripping onto your back. He loves feeling the way your pussy flutters and clenches hard around his cock every single time he shotguns you.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin turns the shotgun kiss into pure erotic art. The room is dimly lit with only the soft glow of warm lamps and maybe a few candles. You’re straddling him in his bed, sinking down slowly on his cock as his long, messy hair fans out across the pillow like dark silk. His hands caress your thighs and waist with reverent touches before he reaches for the joint with elegant fingers.

He takes a graceful, deep hit, his sharp eyes never leaving yours. Then he cups the back of your neck with one hand and gently but firmly pulls you down into a slow, sensual kiss. As soon as your lips meet, he exhales the smoke languidly into your mouth. Thick, sweet clouds curl between your joined lips while his tongue dances with yours in long, filthy, erotic strokes, teasing, licking, sucking softly on your tongue like he’s savoring every second.

“You look so fucking pretty like this…” he moans breathily into your mouth, voice low and husky, “all hazy, flushed, and full of me.” One hand stays on your hip, guiding you to roll and grind on his cock in deep, sensual circles while he feeds you hit after hit. Each shotgun kiss becomes a performance. He sucks on your tongue, gently bites your lower lip, then dives back in deeper, whispering filthy worde between breaths.

HAN JISUNG

Jisung is eager, messy, and hopelessly addicted the second the high hits him. The moment he takes that first drag, his eyes glaze over with pure lust. Without saying a word, he grabs your hips and yanks you into his lap, pulling you down onto his cock in one impatient motion. He’s already painfully hard and leaking, twitching inside you before you’ve even settled.

“Fuck, I need this,” he mutters breathlessly. He takes another deep hit, then smashes his lips desperately against yours. The kiss is chaotic and sloppy right from the start. He pushes the thick, sweet smoke straight into your mouth while his tongue immediately dives in, tangling wildly with yours. Smoke escapes from the corners of your lips, spilling down your chins as he moans loudly into the kiss, completely unable to control himself.

His hands greedily squeeze and spread your ass, fingers digging into your flesh while he starts thrusting up into you frantically. His hips snap with needy, erratic strokes, chasing pleasure like he’s losing his mind. “You taste so fucking good like this,” he whines pathetically between hits, voice high and shaky. He lets out that adorable breathless giggle right against your mouth before diving back in even hungrier than before, licking and sucking on your tongue like he’s starving.

LEE FELIX

Felix’s deep voice and angelic face make the whole experience lethally intoxicating. He has you sitting in his lap facing him, your thighs straddling his hips as he slowly sinks you down onto his cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside your dripping heat. The room is dimly lit, his freckled cheeks already flushed as he picks up the joint with those long, pretty fingers.

He takes a long, slow hit, his dark eyes locked on yours the entire time. Then he cradles your face gently with both hands, thumbs stroking your cheeks with surprising tenderness before he pulls you in. His full, plush lips seal perfectly over yours as he exhales the sweet, thick smoke straight into your mouth, humming softly in that rich, velvet baritone that vibrates through the kiss. “Breathe me in, love,” he murmurs right against your lips, his tongue sliding in smoothly afterward, tasting like smoke and sin.

The contrast between his angelic visuals, soft blonde hair, sparkling eyes, gentle touch, and the filthy act of him blowing smoke into your lungs while his cock stretches you open makes your stomach flip with arousal. As the high starts hitting you harder, your movements grow faster and needier. Felix’s breathing gets heavier, his deep voice dropping even lower as he groans into your mouth.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin is teasing and mean in the most addictive way possible. He has you pinned beneath him in missionary, your legs spread wide and pushed back toward your chest so you’re completely open and helpless for him. His cock slides in and out of you with slow, deliberate strokes while he reaches for the joint with a lazy smirk.

After taking a long, deep hit, he looks down at you with that signature smug, condescending smile that makes your stomach twist. He grabs your jaw tightly with one hand, fingers pressing into your cheeks. “Open,” he commands coldly, voice low and firm. You obey instantly. He leans down and spits the thick smoke straight into your mouth in one controlled, arrogant exhale, watching with dark satisfaction as it fills your lungs.

Before you can even exhale, he seals his lips over yours, trapping the smoke inside while slowly rolling his hips, dragging his cock against your sensitive walls. “Can’t even handle my smoke properly? How cute,” he mocks, voice dripping with fake sympathy. He keeps his mouth on yours, only pulling back when your lungs start burning and your eyes water. The moment you gasp for air he chuckles softly, clearly enjoying how desperate you already look.

Seungmin edges you mercilessly with the shotgun kisses. He fucks you nice and slow, bringing you right to the brink with deep, precise thrusts, then takes another hit and forces the smoke into you again, refusing to let you cum. Every time you get close he stops moving completely, just kissing you messily and laughing at your frustrated whimpers. “Pathetic. You’re clenching so hard just from my smoke. Do you need to breathe that badly, baby?”

YANG JEONGIN

Jeongin is surprisingly confident and playful with it, especially once he’s comfortable with you. He’s lying back against the headboard with that signature fox-like smile, cheeks lightly flushed as he watches you sink down onto his cock. His hands grip your waist firmly, guiding you as you start riding him slowly.

He takes a smooth hit from the joint, his sharp eyes darkening with lust. With a mischievous grin, he pulls you down by the neck and blows the warm smoke straight into your mouth, immediately deepening the kiss like he’s been waiting for this all night. Even with his blushing cheeks, there’s no hesitation—he’s eager and a little greedy, chasing your tongue, sucking on your lips, and groaning lowly into your mouth while you grind on him.

“Mmm… feels even better when you’re high on me, noona,” he whispers breathlessly against your lips, voice already getting rougher. He gets bolder with every round. His hand slides up to hold your neck a little tighter, not choking but possessive, as he feeds you hit after hit. Each shotgun kiss becomes deeper and more demanding. He tilts his head, sucking on your tongue, biting your bottom lip, and licking into your mouth like he wants to devour every moan and every bit of smoke you breathe out.

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Daemon is dressed in deep, shadowy leathers, perfectly tailored to his lean form. You watch the silver clasps and embroidered dragons shimmer subtly in the low light.

Your own attire feels too revealing under his gaze. The soft, flowing fabric of your gown clings to you, draping in ways that accentuate every curve. Deep hues of blue and green—house colors—wrap around you like a second skin. The slight chill of the evening makes your exposed shoulders prickle beneath his watchful eyes.

“Is there something on your mind?” Daemon’s voice cuts through the air. Casual as he leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. “Cousin?”

You push your plate outward. Your attendant immediately steps forward to clear it.

“Leave us,” you command, your voice steady. The servant quickly departs, leaving only the two of you.

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment, memories swirling. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you.”

“Three, four years,” he replies with a lazy shrug, “give or take.”

You look away, a warmth growing across your cheeks. “Hm.” You lean back slightly, your fingers brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Daemon’s eyes sharpen, trailing over you in a way that makes the air you breathe feel heavier. “You have.”

A heavy silence settles in. The moment stretching out as his gaze lingers over you. 

“All grown up now,” he muses, his voice low, almost teasing. He takes another sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chew your lip for a moment, holding back your retort. “You didn’t come here just to visit after four years. A Valyrian steel dagger, no less. A fine gift, even for you.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound rich. “Can’t a man visit his family without suspicion?”

“You?” You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips pulling into a wry smile. “Never.”

His amusement deepens as he stands, his movements fluid, every step deliberate. He paces slowly around the table, fingers gliding across its surface. As he walks, his gaze briefly flicks upward to the ceiling. There lingering, is a painting of Valaryian lovers entwined beneath dragon wings.

“You always did see through the masks people wear. I admired that about you.”

He stops in front of you, his hand lifting as if to touch your chin, but you tilt your head away.

Your voice is steady as you speak. “What do you want, Daemon?”

He lowers his hand, though the smile doesn’t fade. “I must marry.”

A small grin tugs at your lips. “I’ve heard the rumors about you and Rhaenyra. If they’re true, why not her?”

Daemon’s smirk widens, amusement flickering in his eyes as he looks back at the ceiling. “Rumors,” he says softly, “are often more fun than the truth.”

His eyes lock onto yours, sharper now. “But you and I both know what strengthens Valyria.”

“Keeping the bloodline pure?” you offer, your voice firm but tinged with curiosity.

His silence answers you.

“Hm.” The sound escapes your lips as you push your chair back and rise. Standing so close, you feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning your face. 

Your hand presses against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his armor-like clothing. His hand finds your waist, gripping you with a possessive firmness. “What if I have eyes for another?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper-- the challenge clear.

Daemon’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he leans in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “Nyke daor gīmigon skoros vestri iā ōs.” he whispers in Valyrian, his voice like silk and steel combined.

Don’t forget what I did to you four years ago.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips almost touching yours, his eyes burning with the same fire you’ve tried to suppress for years.

Your heart pounds as you feel the weight of his words. You remember how he deflowered you—rocking into you like a piston, kissing your lips, biting at your skin—setting your body on fire. The memory fades.

You meet his gaze head-on, your lips parting as you murmur in Valyrian, “Nyke daor gīmigon.”

I could never forget.

His eyes darken, the grip on your waist tightening. Daemon’s other hand finds the curve of your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, gliding down to the material of your sleeve. With a smooth motion, he slides it off your shoulder, your bare skin to the cool air.

Your eyes flicker from his lips back to his intense gaze, the air between you electric. You feel the steady rhythm between your thighs quicken as his fingers slide down from your chest. Daemon hitches up the material of your gown. His fingers make their way between your thighs. The pads of his fingertips brush against you and you fall forward onto his shoulder. 

You breathe harshly. His fingers are cool and should be foreign. But the way they sink into you, you know it’s all too familiar. You let out a moan as he stills.

The hand on your waist moves up to your shoulder and then to your chin. He holds you, bringing your face to look at him.

“Nyke jaelā ao.” 

I want you.

You let out a soft moan as his fingers spread inside you.  “Ērīninna nyke.” 

Then take me.