#m: req

˗ˏˋ junmyeon

he likes being in control, but he lives for the moments when you take the lead. position doesn't matter to him as long as you're comfortable, but he secretly craves the sight of you riding him, feeling you bounce closer, tighter, as you try to hold on. his hands roam everywhere, a desperate need to touch and taste your skin before he feels like he lost his mind. he showers you with praise, but lately, his obsession has a new name: cum inside you, filling you completely at the exact moment you climax. "hold on, baby. together," he groans against your neck, pushing one last time, making sure you feel every inch of his throbbing cock before he finally gives in.

junmyeon might seem tired, but his stamina is not a joke. another round? the answer is always yes. if you're exhausted, he'll eat you out, slowly, taking his time, licking and sucking your clit as he was completely thirsty, his mouth and fingers working in a perfect sync. "cum for me, princess. you taste so fucking good," junmyeon is definitely pussy drunk. if you're not tired, he'll flip you over, thrusting harder to bury himself deeper, begging you to wrap your arms and legs around him until you both collapse, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. "god, i needed that," he murmurs before kissing you raw with relief before he stars kissing you messy. a third round? only if you want it. if he's finally worn out, he'll switch to his fingers, starting slow and deliberate, a man of his word, tending to your most sensitive core until you reach the edge and fall again, squirting between cries and moans.

afterward, he'll clean you. junmyeon pulls you into him on the tangled sheets, letting you rest on his chest. he kisses your temple, traces the line of your back, and runs his fingers through your hair, his voice low and sleepy as he whispers how incredible you are. he'll hold you until you both fall asleep, his grip around you still as tight as if he never wants to let you go.

˗ˏˋ minseok

he's the kind of man who wakes you with kisses, pulling you into him from behind, his body a hot wight against your back as he slams into you. he'll kiss your shoulders and the back of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist as he thrusts slowly but with a firm, deliberate rhythm. minseok loves to leave little bites, loving the way you shiver in his arms, and how your ass bounces with every move. but don't misunderstand—he'll only let you cum once you've switched positions and he can see your face, a beautiful, moaning mess. "look at me, baby. you're so pretty when you're ruined by me," he'll murmur, his voice a low possessive rumble.

another round? it depends on the mood, but the answer is almost always yes. this time, it's even slower. minseok will take his time, kissing you deeply and even talking to you, like it's his own personal ted talk, telling you how much he's fallen for you. this is where you see his most vulnerable, authentic side—the quiet, introspective man who loves you more than words can say.

afterward, minseok is the king of aftercare. he'll hold you close, wrapping you in his arms while playfully kissing your face and neck. he'll tell you how much he loves you and how amazing you are, his touch tender and reassuring. he's completely, undeniably whipped for you.

˗ˏˋ yixing

in bed, as with everything he does, he is completely committed. his only mission is to give you every kind of pleasure there is. he'll eat you out first, preparing your body to take him as deep as possible. a second round is a given; you won't even need to ask. after yixing leaves you a trembling wreck, he'll turn you over for doggy style. but as he gets more into it, be ready for him to press your face into the mattress as he pulls your hips up. every thrust is deep and forceful, his hips colliding with you ass, his grip on your waist so strong it will leave bruises.

"you feel so good, doll," he'll whisper, his praise so close you can feel it even when your moans drown out his voice. "fuck, you're so fucking tight and... mine, just mine." yixing collapses forward, his weight pinning you down as he catches his breath, his warmth filling you, and your juices mixing with his. but he won't let you rest for long. he'll let you get on top, but he's not stopping—he'll take your sensible pussy again, slowly, loving the way your walls clench around him, loving how him make you a beautiful mess.

his aftercare is an entirely new mission. he'll take you to the bath, cleaning you gently, touching and kissing you with a tenderness so warm it's almost too much to resist. you can't help but melt, and there you are again, a moaning mess with his fingers inside your cunt.

˗ˏˋ baekhyun

he's a huge fan of taking you in every spot of the house; there's nowhere he hasn't had you. be careful not to tease him—baekhyun is an absolute freak, and you're doomed if you do. "so, you want to play like that, huh?" he'll say with a dangerous smirk, his eyes full of playful mischief. he doesn't have a favorite position; he loves them all, but he's truly addicted to eating you out first, sometimes more than once, just to bring you to the very brink. "come on, princess. just one more time," he'll murmur against your sensitive pussy, his breath hot against your skin.

if you're in the kitchen, he'll fuck you right there; no need to move to the bedroom. he'll fall to his knees, his lips on your cunt, licking and sucking your clit like a man possessed, a religious experience for baekhyun. when you break into a climax, he won't let you rest. he'll take you right away, slamming into you while you're sitting or lifting your legs to wrap them around his hips. in bed, he'll get on top and kiss you messily, never breaking eye contact as he thrusts deep and hard enough to leave you a complete moaning mess. he's completely in love with your whimpers and the sound of your voice screaming his name.

another round? yes, a thousand times yes. baekhyun won't rest until you are both more than exhausted, a tangled mess unable to get out of bed. aftercare is a must. he'll kiss your whole face, slowly, sloppily, and hold you close, his arms wrapped around you, never leaving your body. he'll fall asleep in your arms, whispering how much he loves you, making sure you hear every word.

˗ˏˋ jongdae

he's a gentleman, without a doubt. while he loves how you ride him, he is driven by a deep need to take care of you. jongdae is a ride or die for every request you make. you want it slow? he'll go slow, stretching out every moment. you want it deeper? he'll push in until he's buried completely inside you. rough? absolutely. he'll meet your every need. "how could you be so pretty?" he praises you constantly, his voice a low, rumbling hum against your skin—a true king of compliments.

a second round is not an option; it's a need. this time, jongdae will slow down and go deeper, taking his time. he'll kiss your neck, then your shoulders, your jaw, and finally your lips, his touch tender and possessive all at once. his hands work their magic on your most sensitive spots, his fingers tracing your clit until you're a mess of moans and gasps. he loves the way your body responds to his touch.

"let me do it one more time, princess." a third round is an extension of his aftercare—it's just jongdae being needy. he'll pull you against him, whispering praise into your hair and kissing your skin, leaving soft, sleepy bites all over until he finally gives in and cum inside you again. then, he'll let you rest on top of him, in his arms, his body still joined with yours, both of you a tangled mess of limbs and tired pleasure. he'll fall asleep with you right there, the most content man in the world.

˗ˏˋ chanyeol

the way he fucks you depends on his mood, but more often than not, he's just the needy boyfriend. chanyeol will begin by whining for your attention, his hands reaching for you as he starts unbuttoning your blouse. he kisses you, his lips leaving a trail everywhere as he gets down on his knees and ends up at your core. he gives you everything, tasting, licking, and sucking as if he's praying, lost in the worship of you. then, he'll take you to bed. the position is irrelevant; he'll climb on top of you and slam into you. the pace is slow at first, then faster until you feel every incredible inch of him. "you're just mine," he'll whisper, his voice raw. he's possessive, but a true lover and a romantic who praises you endlessly.

a second round is a guarantee. after chanyeol even cum, he'll start thrusting you again; he finds no need for rest. he loves to take you while you're raw, a sensitive and moaning mess in his arms. you'll hear him groan a lot, especially when he cum inside you. it's a truly divine experience for him, feeling your body arch and your walls clench. "god, you feel so fucking good," he'll gasp.

a third round will happen in the shower, or on the bed with sleepy kisses and sloppy moves, just the sound of your bodies colliding and agitated breaths. he'll murmur nonsense, his lips at your neck, your shoulders, and everywhere else. chanyeol won't stop until he collapses, completely exhausted and drunk on you, there's no need to pull out. yet even then, he's incapable of not giving you aftercare, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck or hair, a tangled mess of bodies.

˗ˏˋ kyungsoo

he might seem quiet, but he’s the one who always starts the fire. he'll tease you, flirting with a casual ease that makes it feel like a normal conversation. when you finally break and give in, kyungsoo feels like a winner. he truly loves it when you're the needy one, feeling your desperation to beg for him. he'll take you to bed immediately, unable to wait a second longer. his lips capture yours in a messy, desperate kiss. his hands rip off your clothes—and his—and his lips are everywhere, especially on your boobs, where he bites, touches, licks, and marks. then kyungsoo will move to your pussy, taking extra care to make you lose your mind and become a complete moaning mess. he's too quiet to praise you with words, but you'll hear his hard sighs, humming, and groaning against your skin.

he likes to have you on top, but he is anything but passive. kyungsoo will thrust deeper and with focused energy. his hands will be secured on your waist, his lips on your breast or neck, and now he feels like he's the one begging for you. another round? the answer is always yes. side-fucking is his second favorite position. with your back to his torso, he'll place one of his hands on your belly, the other on a boob, and feel your ass bouncing on his hips, his lips on the back of your neck. he'll finish inside you, groaning into your back, his grip tight.

aftercare is a must for kyungsoo. he doesn't mind if you want to stay in the same position or move to face him. he'll ask about your day, listening intently before telling you about his. you'll both talk nonsense until you fall asleep, tangled in the sheets.

˗ˏˋ jongin

there's no chance he'll ever say no to sex. even if he's exhausted, jongin will let you sit on his face, giving you the princess treatment with his mouth and fingers until you've had all the orgasms you need. you won't be able to resist taking his length into your mouth. "shit, baby, don't stop" jongin will groan against your pussy, sucking and slurping your clit like a man out of his mind, taking you to the very brink until your release touches his mouth. he'll clean you with his tongue, then let you stroke him until he comes in a messy, gasping rush. "you're gonna kill me."

but be ready if he's not tired. jongin will fuck you until you're both a tangled mess of exhausted limbs, with no care for position or how many rounds. he'll take you on the bed, against the wall, on the couch—it doesn't matter where, as long as it's you. the sheets will be completely soaked with your squirts and both of your cums. "fuck, we made a mess." you'll be a huge, happy mess, laughing at the chaos you both created, but still wrapped up in the sheets, with each other.

aftercare is a must. jongin will give you sloppy kisses and so much care, sharing sleepy conversations and laughs with you. he'll talk about his day, and you'll talk about yours, meaningless things too, and you'll both drift off to sleep. jongin will fall asleep first, pouting in the middle of your playful argument over who loves the other more.

˗ˏˋ sehun

he's the ultimate flirt and tease. sehun's the one who starts every kind of touch, from a casual slap on your ass in the kitchen that sends shivers down your spine to the unexpected way he'll rub his hard cock against your butt when you're in bed. he might even surprise you with a quick, hard bite on your neck or steal your lips in the middle of a mundane conversation. everything he does is designed to remind you that you are his. his favorite position? sehun's a wild man, always wanting to try new things and take you in new places. but he eventually returns to his favorite: having you bounce on him. his hands cup your ass, gripping and lifting, and his hips thrust you into the right spot, deep enough to make you a trembling, moaning mess. "you're mine, remember that," he'll say, his voice a low growl, reminding you of his claim over you. sehun loves biting your breasts and neck, and he'll slap your ass and grip your waist so tight it leaves bruises—his marks of love.

a second round? yes. a third? only if you aren't both completely exhausted. but if sehun is tired and still wants more, he'll take you back to bed and eat you out or in a slow, sloppy way, using his long fingers for more pleasure. the wet sounds will make you shiver, and sehun knows your body well enough to take you to the very edge, breaking you until you reach a climax so powerful you squirt and cry his name.

aftercare is a must. sehun's a possessive freak in bed, but the moment it's over, he's a needy man who craves your touch. he's incapable of sleeping without you, so he'll pull you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as you stroke his hair. your legs will be tangled together, a messy aftermath of pleasure, but he's content and peaceful in your arms.

The watch on his wrist read almost 2 a.m. Normally, Chanyeol wouldn’t mind standing guard through the night while the others slept, patrolling the quiet perimeter of the barracks in a stiff uniform and carrying a weapon he’d only ever handled in training drills.

But tonight, the routine felt like a cage. Not even the biting, bitter cold of the night air could lower Chanyeol’s body temperature; a frantic, restless heat burned beneath his skin, fueled entirely by a growing sense of yearning.

It had been almost two weeks since he last heard your voice, and the silence was finally driving him crazy. Every second without you felt like a physical weight crushing his chest, a slow-burning madness that made it impossible to breathe. 

Chanyeol glanced down at the cell phone in his pocket. The urge to leave his post was becoming a physical ache. He knew the risks, but the desperation outweighed the consequences. He needed to hear your voice. He needed it like air. The only way to get even a sliver of a connection was to sacrifice a few dangerous minutes to climb to the highest, most exposed point on the grounds—a steep, frozen ridge where he could finally trap a few fleeting bars of signal against the sky.

Spurred by a sudden wave of impatience, Chanyeol started to move again, his boots making no sound against the floor. The rest of his teammates were fast asleep, their heavy, even breathing filling the quiet barracks. As he crept past the mess hall, he caught a glimpse of his superior through the kitchen doorway. Chanyeol froze, shrinking back into the shadows to stay silent, but a quick glance inside revealed the older officer slumped over, fast asleep in his seat.

Then, like a divine signal cutting through the dark, his phone began to buzz against his thigh. His heart leaped into his throat. He finally had connection.

Without wasting a single second, Chanyeol slipped rapidly back to his post in the shadows, praying to the universe that the fragile bars of service wouldn’t vanish. His eyes catched your unread messages at full speed. One of them had arrived only moments ago. Desperate, he hit the call button and pressed the phone to his ear, his mind repeating a frantic prayer that you were still awake.

One ring. Two. Three.

The line connected, and the soft, sleepy sound of your voice from the other side made his skin crawl with an intense, electric shiver.

“Baby…” The word came out raspy and thick with a sudden rush of raw emotion. Trembling, his fingers slid through his hair, knocking his military cap completely off his head. It hit the ground, but he couldn’t care less.

“Yeol?” There was a brief silence on the line, instantly filled by a shaky, frustrated sigh that escaped from deep within his chest. “Oh my god... Chanyeol?”

“I’m here, love,” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “Just... let me hear your voice. Fuck... I miss you so much. I-I’m going crazy.”

The air suddenly thick and suffocating with everything they had been forced to suppress for two weeks. Hearing your voice, so soft and still heavy with sleep, completely stripped away whatever discipline Chanyeol had left. The distance wasn’t just frustrating anymore; it was a physical agony, a starvation that clawed at his chest.

He pressed the phone so hard against his ear it hurt, his eyes closed tight as he leaned his forehead against his cold hand. Every breath he took was ragged, a desperate attempt to ground himself when all he wanted to do was unravel.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered, the words ragged, practically bleeding with a raw, demanding craving. “Hearing you like this, knowing how far away you are... it’s fucking killing me. I wanna touch you so bad it hurts, baby. I… I need to make love to you… to be inside of you right now.”

On the other end of the line, a sharp, caught breath gasped through the speaker, followed by a low shift of sheets that made Chanyeol’s stomach completely bottom out. The sweet, sleepy tone of your voice vanished, replaced by a sudden, heated urgency that matched his own.

“Yeol…” you murmured, your voice dropping an octave, instantly responding to the sudden shift in his tone. “You have no idea what it’s like here. My bed feels so empty without you. I was just dreaming about your hands on me… your lips, your tongue.”

A dark, desperate sound escaped the back of his throat—halfway between a groan and a sob. The sheer vulnerability of his longing twisted into something much more primal, something intoxicatingly filthy born from pure deprivation. Chanyeol didn’t care about the risk anymore. He just needed to consume you through the static.

“My beautiful girl,” he growled softly, his voice dropping into a dangerous, gravelly register that vibrated through the receiver. His free hand gripped his hip, his knuckles turning white. “God… just tell me what you dreamt. Was it good? Did I treat you right?”

“So good—I was feeling your mouth all over my body,” you gasped out, the sound of your quickening breath hitting the microphone, sending a jolt of pure fire straight down his spine. “You were ruining me, Yeol. And—shit… I’m already wet just thinking about it…”

Hearing the sudden, slick shift of sheets on your end—and the unmistakable, heavy hitch in your breathing—sent a violent jolt straight to Chanyeol’s groin. His cock hardened instantly, straining painfully against the thick, unforgiving fabric of his military uniform.

“Fuck, you’re doing it already, hmm?” Chanyeol growled, his voice dropping into a filthy, gravelly rasp that vibrated with pure hunger. “I can hear it in your voice, baby. Where are your fingers?”

“Inside,” you gasped out, a soft, breathless whimper escaping your lips that nearly made his knees buckle. “But it’s not enough. I need your tongue. I need your fucking fingers stretching me open. I-I need your cock, Yeolie.”

A dark, predatory groan cut through his throat. Panic and desire collided in his chest; Chanyeol was completely exposed out here. Eyes dark and wild, he looked around quickly, his heart hammering against his ribs as he slunk deeper into a pitch-black corner outside the cabin, shielded by the shadows.

Chanyeol didn’t even have the time or the freedom to take his uniform off; the sheer desperation was too fast, too consuming. With trembling, impatient fingers, he just unbuttoned his pants and slid his hand inside his boxers. The cold of his own skin made him let out a sharp, ragged sigh. His knuckles dragged against the rigid, leaking length of his dick, and the sheer relief of it made his head roll back against the wall.

“God, you’re a bad girl, opening up for me while I’m stuck here,” he whispered into the receiver, his tone dripping with the wicked, dominant filth he usually reserved for the privacy of your bedroom. Chanyeol started to jerk himself off under his clothes, his grip tight and unyielding, his fist moving in a frantic, packed rhythm that threatened to break his composure entirely. “If I was there, I’d make you choke on my cock. I’d stretch you out until you were crying and begging me to stop, and then… I’d just push deeper.”

You let out a loud, undone whine on the other end, the sound of skin friction hitting the microphone. “Yes—please. Keep going. I’m rubbing my clit so hard thinking about it... I’m so close, Yeolie, please…”

“That’s it, baby. Ride your fingers for me,” he commanded, his breath hitching as his own pace quickened, his thumb smearing the pre-cum over his head. The fear of getting caught only made the friction hotter, the adrenaline driving him insane. “Fuck—baby, I’m so hard right now. Hear how fucking ruined I am? I’m imagining your tight little mouth wrapped around my dick—shit—taking it all.”

“God—Chanyeol!”

The sound of your wet, undone moans coming through the speaker completely wrecked him. Chanyeol’s legs felt weak, his knees threatening to give out beneath the sheer weight of a pleasure that felt more like torture. He was struggling to breathe, his chest heaving against the tight fabric of his military jacket as he leaned heavily against the freezing exterior wall of the barracks. 

He was trembling violently from the freezing night air, but his hand didn’t stop, rubbing himself hard and fast through his pants in a brutal, friction-heavy rhythm that was rapidly bringing him to the point of no return.

“Fuck, baby... those sounds,” he whimpered into the phone, his voice a broken, filthy whisper that shook with pure desperation as he kept a frantic eye on the dark grounds around him. “You’re killing me. You’re fucking ruining me out here. I can’t handle it... I’m so close.”

“Give it to me,” you cried out softly, a breathless, wet sob of completion building in your throat. “I need to hear you come. Do it for me, Yeol. Cum for me.”

“God—I’m coming right in my pants for you, baby,” he choked out, his hips giving a helpless, involuntary twitch against his own hand as he rubbed himself at a punishing speed through the fabric. He was completely blind to the danger now, entirely consumed by the filthy heat of your voice. “Listen to me, baby. Will your sweet mouth take every single drop—fuck… I’m gonna cover your pretty face with my cum.”

“Yes—I want it all,” you gasped, the sound of your frantic breathing hitching as your own climax finally hit, a soft, broken wail escaping your lips.

Hearing you unravel was the final blow. Chanyeol let out a muffled, strangled groan, his teeth biting down hard on his own lip to keep from making a sound into the open night air. His entire body went rigid, his knuckles turning stark white as his hand delivered a few final, crushing strokes against his pants. A heavy, violent wave of release took over, his cum spilling thick and hot, ruining the inside of his uniform as he collapsed back against the cold wall, utterly spent and shivering in the dark.

“Shit…”

The static on the line was filled only with the sound of their synchronized, trembling breaths. Chanyeol’s legs finally gave out completely, and he slid down the freezing exterior wall until he was sitting flat on the cold ground, his head resting back against the concrete.

“You did it too, didn’t you?” he breathed into the phone, a soft, breathless chuckle escaping his throat.

On the other end, your faint, matching laugh was just as exhausted, just as undone.

“As you wanted, Yeolie.”

Chanyeol looked down at himself in the dim moonlight, a sudden wave of reality crashing over him. He was covered in a cold sweat despite the freezing night air, his chest still heaving as he tried to compose his erratic breathing. Looking down at his lap, he stared at the giant, unmistakable wet circle darkening the thick fabric of his uniform trousers. With trembling, clumsy fingers, he awkwardly pulled at the heavy material, trying to zip and button his pants properly, the reality of his situation setting back in with every clumsy movement.

The heat of the moment was fading fast, replaced by the sudden, aching weight of the distance between them. Sitting alone in the dark, ruined and shivering in his uniform, the contrast of the empty military grounds hit him like a physical blow.

“God, you were the one who ruined me,” he whispered, his voice dropping into a quiet, incredibly vulnerable register. The dirty talk was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, aching honesty. He pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing the phone tighter against his ear as if he could force you closer. “I miss you so much, baby. It’s... frustrating. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get up and finish this shift without you here.”

“Hey… it’s okay,” you whispered softly, your voice a gentle contrast to the biting wind on his end of the line. “We only have a few more days to get through, Yeol. Just a few more days, and then you’re coming home. I’m counting down every single hour.”

Chanyeol let out a shaky, fragile breath, the promise of seeing you acting like a lifeline. But as the heavy silence stretched between you, he caught the faint, heavy drag in your breathing. The fog of lust was completely gone now, leaving behind a sharp stab of protectiveness.

“You sound so exhausted, baby,” he murmured, his brow furrowing with sudden guilt. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t even ask about your day before I... I completely dragged you into this.”

A soft, tired laugh rumbled on your end of the line, a sound that instantly warmed his chest. “Don’t be silly. I’m just tired because of work, that’s all. It was a long day, but hearing you was exactly what I needed.”

“Are you sure?” he asked gently, though the words tasted like ash in his mouth. “Go to rest, baby.”

But neither of you hung up. The line stayed wide open, filled only with the soft static of the connection and the rhythm of your breathing. It was like you were both just waiting for the fragile signal to cut out on its own, a silent agreement to let the universe take blame for ending the call. Deep down, you were both desperately praying for those signal bars to hold on for just a little bit longer.

“I love you so much,” you whispered suddenly, the words laced with an aching tenderness. “I’ll wait for you.”

“I know, baby. I love you more. I promise I’ll count every second—”

“Sargent Park!”

The sharp, echoing shout tore through the quiet night air, causing Chanyeol’s heart to violently leap into his throat. He was completely startled. On the other end, you heard the sudden intrusion and instantly understood the danger.

“Shit. I have to go. I love you,” he hissed into the receiver at lightning speed. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back just as fast.

The line clicked dead. Chanyeol shoved his phone into his pocket with trembling hands and scrambled to his feet. He had to use the wall for leverage, his legs still weak, his movements clumsy as he tried to adjust his uniform jacket to hide the prominent wet circle staining his pants.

He had barely managed to stand up straight when his superior appeared around the corner, stepping directly into the dim light in front of him. The older officer was holding Chanyeol’s discarded military hat in one hand, looking at him with a deep frown. His gaze swept over Chanyeol, taking in his red cheeks, the heavy sweat glistening on his forehead, and the way his chest was still heaving for air.

“Sargent Park… you look terrible,” his superior said, his voice carrying a mix of authority and genuine worry. “Go to bed. You should rest.”

Chanyeol swallowed hard, forcing his posture into a stiff, trembling salute, praying the darkness hid the front of his pants.

“Yes, sir!”

☆ — junmyeon

is he nervous? of course. his heart is thundering, but he has all prepared after dinner. he takes the lead with a steady grace. there’s no rush; he’s the one who initiates the first tentative brush of lips, the one who deepens it into something breathless, and the one who pulls back just enough to look you and ask: “are you sure, love?”

when junmyeon hears your confirmation, the restraint snaps. he doesn’t need a second invitation. he begins to touch you like you’re his most valuable possession, his hands steady as he peels away your clothes, his mouth marking every newly exposed inch of skin with a lingering, possessive kiss.

“i can’t believe you’re finally mine,” he rasps. he sets an agonizingly deliberate pace, making you ache for his next move. he’s normally patient, but here... it feels like his body and mind are shutting down at once. 

junmyeon prioritizes you completely, but don’t get me wrong, he loves it—start kissing your breast, your lower belly, and then bury his face between your legs. he doesn’t miss out a moment to make out with your cunt, starving, uneven, his tongue and fingers working in a desperate, skillful rhythm. he’s crazy about the way you arch and curve under his touch, his fingers stretching you open as he laps you up until you reach the first orgasm, of course, not missing the chance to drink you up.

when he finally moves to fill you, he makes you his pillow princess—making love to you slowly, deeply, and with a rhythmic intensity that forces you to cling to him, pulling him closer and closer until you both shatter.

afterward, he craves you even more in the quiet skin-to-skin contact. he won’t let you rest until you both are breathless, incapable of moving aside. he cleans you up, kissing your skin softly, murmuring praises he wants to tattoo on your skin, his body tangled with yours as if he’s trying to stay under your skin.

☆ — minseok

his eagerness is written in his eyes, darkening until they’re nearly all pupils. there’s a shimmering, predatory heat in his gaze that makes you feel more beautiful—more seen—than you even have before. it’s a look that demands a response, and you find yourself matching his hunger, your hands pulling him closer, your mouth searching for his lips with a desperate, shared heat.

minseok’s fighting a war with himself. you can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers dig into your waist as he tries to filter his primal instincts into something slow and sensual. he doesn’t want to rush; he wants to savor the friction.

“you have no idea what you doing to me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against your ear. his praises are like holy secrets, whispered confessions that only you’re allowed to hear. “so beautiful, so perfect for me.”

when the clothes are finally gone, minseok pulls you onto his lap, his large hands guiding your hips as you straddle him. he loves that you’re the one to lead, his eyes never leaving yours as you slowly lower yourself, burying him deep inside of you.

the sound he makes is a broken, airy groan—the sound of a man finally finding what he craves. he anchors you there, his palms molding to your hips and the small of your back, grounding you as you begin to move. he encourages you with those soft, threatless murmurs near your ear, his thumbs tracing the line of your spine while you ride him.

he lives for the way your eyes flutter shut and the way you find the exact rhythm he’s been dreaming of. to minseok, there’s nothing more sensual than watching you take exactly what you want from him.

later, he doesn’t let you go. he’ll keep you tucked against his chest, his legs still tangled with yours, his hands resting possessively on your hip after cleaning you. he’s quiet again, but the way he kisses your temple tells you that he’ll never let you go.

☆ — yixing

he has secretly been paying attention to all the things you really desire, secretly cataloging every hitch in your breath and every flush of your skin. he wants you to remember your first time as much as he will. of course he will act extra clingy, his lips constantly finding the sensitive curve of your neck, his voice a low hum of praise that leaves your cheeks burning. yes, he loves it. 

“i wanna show you exactly what’s been living in my head, babe,” he mumbles between possessive kisses. “every thought, every dream i’ve had of you… shit—” 

but the moment your hands turn bold, and your touch turns demanding, yixing loses it. fuck his soft side; he’s suddenly a storm of lust and unraveled fantasies. you lose track of where his mouth begins and ends as he claims every inch of you with a desperate heat.

his mouth finds your breast, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, before he moves downward. he eats you out like he’s trying to prove a point—or perhaps just to confirm that you’re his. he won’t stop, his tongue working in a relentless siege until you’re arching off the sheets, craving him inside you.

yixing becomes obsessed with the way you want him—the little whimpers, the way you beg for more while your skin is flushed. he finally gives you exactly what you’re screaming for. he enters you slowly, a deep slide that makes your eyes roll back. he immediately captures your lips with his, swallowing your moans to keep the sound of your pleasure trapped between you.

as he settles on top of you, his pace shifting from a slow grind to a heavy, rhythmic drive that feels like it’s reaching your soul. “don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” he’s reclaiming every part of you he’s ever dreamed of, his movements becoming more frantic as he nears his own limit. when you two reach it, he collapses against you for a few seconds before his lips bury in the crook of your neck, wanting even more, just like you.

☆ — baekhyun

he’s a man unraveled—someone eager, hungry, and entirely focused on making you feel a great time. he’s been a student of your reactions for weeks, and now that he finally has you where he wants, but keep it in mind... baekhyun isn’t in a rush. 

making out session is a must. his tongue tangles with yours until you’re breathless and whiny. he loves to notice that you want him just as much as he wants you. and oh... he surely will tease you just to make you feel frustrated, just to make you want him even more, secretly trying to hide he’s nervous too. 

“love, are you impatient?” he chuckles against your lips, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and heat. “or are you just desperate for me?” his mouth migrates, leaving a trail of deep, wet kisses from the sensitive cord of your neck down to the swell of your breasts, leaving your clothes behind, slowly, tortuously. 

baekhyun cups your tits firmly, his hands massaging the soft skin with a possessive rhythm. he’s not really gentle; he bites your nipples—he sucks them too—his teeth grazing just enough to pull a sharp moan from your throat, before he soothes the sting with his tongue. but he doesn’t stop just there—his fingers slide down to find your cunt, stretching you out slowly, yet his mouth is working on your boobs. 

“i know you like that, gorgeous,” he murmurs with a cocky smirk, pulling his fingers out to suck them dry right in front of you. “sweet.” before he dives between your thighs like a starving man. he eats you out… and again, and again, and again, until his own lips ache.

he wants to give you everything at once, but your pleasure is his only priority. even when your first orgasm ripples through you, he doesn’t let you rest.

baekhyun keeps pushing your limits, fucking you with his fingers to keep the friction high until he finally replaces them with his cock. he slides into you with a deep, heave thrust that makes you gasp his name. he holds you so close you can feel the thud of his heart against your bear chest, every muscle in his body corded and tense as he claims you. and after he reaches his own peak, he keeps moving, his pace frantic and wet, driving you toward another climax before he finally follows you with his second one.

aftermath? baekhyun hauls you into a warm, steaming bath, but it’s full of sloppy, water-slicked kisses and lazy, uncoordinated strokes all over your body. he’s all silly smiles and whispered jokes, his hands never leaving your skin. there’s no shame left between you—just the comfortable heat.

“i told you,” he whispers, pulling you back against his chest in the tub. “i won’t let you forget tonight. not a single second… or i have to make you remember, mmh? you want that, gorgeous?”

☆ — jongdae

he’s the most attentive of them all. of course jongdae’s been extra romantic all evening, leaning into that cheesy, endearing charm that always makes your heart melt. he’s been dropping his lame jokes just to hear you laugh, using it as an excuse to steal quick, soft kisses against your cheek or the corner of your mouth.

you’ve noticed him trying to get closer all night—the way his thigh brushes yours under the table, or how his hands accidentally linger on the small of your back. you let him, leaning into his space and responding with boldness, as soon as he realizes you’re just as eager as he is, he becomes flirtier.

jongdae captures your lips in a kiss—deep, demanding, leaving you completely breathless. he pulls you onto his lap, warm hands immediately finding their way under the hem of your blouse. he explores your skin with a reverent touch, his thumbs tracing the line of your ribs while his lips capture yours.

he peels away your clothes as if he’s unwrapping a gift he’s waited so long for. and when you both are completely naked, he doesn’t hide anything. he lets you feel exactly how much power you have over him.

“see what you do to me?” his hands slide down to cup your ass and pull you even closer, grounding you against him. “just you.”

he lets you move over him, riding him at your own rhythm, loving the way your body bounces on him. he cups your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples until they’re tight and aching, before he leans down to draw one into his mouth. watch out... he takes his time.

jongdae loves your messy sounds—the whines, the gasps, the way you call his name. he catches your moan with his mouth, kissing you deeply, groaning in between, anchoring your hips, and driving into you with a heavy pace. oh, and surely he will praise you a lot while he pushes you toward your limits.

when your orgasm reaches you, he follows you instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you so tightly your own body couldn’t be closer to his.

some minutes later, he’ll clean you, pulling the duvet over both of you, cocooning you in his arms. promising he will take you breakfast in bed the next morning. yes, he won’t hide his happiness from finally having you all by himself.

☆ — chanyeol

from the moment the door shuts, chanyeol is a bundle of nervous energy. he’s been waiting for this—for you—for so long that he’s actually a little bit intimidated by the reality of it. when he leans in for that first kiss, he’s almost a bit too eager, clumsy. but the second you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back in, the tension breaks. he melts against you, leaving a massive, shaky sigh of relief through his broad chest.

“sorry,” he chuckles breathlessly, embarrassed. “i’ve just... i’ve played this out in my head a thousand times, and i don’t wanna mess it up.”

chanyeol scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed with a sudden, determined stride. he kisses you so deeply, so thoroughly, that you barely have a second to catch your breath between the heat of his mouth and the weight of his body pinning you into the mattress.

clothes disappear in a frantic, tangled haze. soon, his large fingers are finding their way between your thighs, trapping you beneath him. he stretches you out with a focused, rhythmic patience. your hips buck against his hand, instinctively seeking more of him, and he smirks—that deep, rumbling dimpled grin—knowing he’s preparing you perfectly.

when he finally replaces his fingers with his cock, it’s a slow slide, but you have to wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer, needing to feel the full scale of him. chanyeol freezes for a second, his arms corded with tension as he peppers your face with tiny, frantic kisses. “you okay? you’re alright, baby?” he rasps, his voice a low, gravelly frequency that makes your toes curl. “i’ve got you.”

chanyeol starts at a slow, agonizingly sweet pace, but as he feels you relax and start to chase his rhythm, the fire grows. the weight of his body is a comfort—you feel every inch of him because his hands are everywhere. one second, they’re anchored on your waist, his thumbs digging in to claim you; the next, they’re sliding under your thighs to hike them higher, or cupping your breasts to feel the frantic thud of your heart.

“god, you feel so good.” he drives into you with a relentless pace, his large hands molding your skin as if he’s trying to memorize your shape. he urges to cum with you—a total, thundering surrender, his entire body going heavy and lax against yours.

afterward, he’ll wrap his entire body around you like a human shield, his chin resting on top of your head as he breathes you in. chanyeol whispers soft promises, while his hands stay possessively cupped around your waist, making sure you know you aren’t going anywhere.

☆ — kyungsoo

he doesn’t ask with direct words; he simply begins, his movements possessed by a calm, unwavering certainty. kyungsoo initiates the make-out session with a slow pull, one hand cupping your cheek with a possessive thumb stroking your jaw, while the other anchors firmly at your waist. when he hears that first, soft moan break from your throat, he won’t pull back—deepening the kiss into something wet and demanding.

kyungsoo undresses you with a torturous, methodical slowness. each button, each layer is treated with a reverent focus, his eyes never leaving yours as he exposes your skin. he watches your chest heave, enjoying the way your hands fumble with his own shirt in your eagerness, letting out a short chuckle at your impatience.

“patience.” he catches your frustrated huff with another deep, open-mouthed kiss. “we have all night, my love.”

kyungsoo settles onto his back and pulls you on top of him, letting you straddle his lap. for a moment, he lets you think you’re the one in control. but the second his hands find your hips, you realize that he’s the one grounding you, his fingers digging in just enough to guide your movements to his own steady, relentless pace.

and then… kyungsoo makes love to you with a terrifyingly calm rhythm, his eyes dark and dilated as they track every flicker of pleasure on your face. suddenly, he will stop. he just stops, holding you still while you’re flushed and panting, just to watch you unravel.

he just smirks at your frustration, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs grazing your nipples. “i like the way you look when you want more,” he rasps, his voice thick with a hunger he’s finally letting you see. “ask me again. tell me exactly what you want me to do, angel.”

kyungsoo only moves again when he can no longer resist the pleading look in your eyes and the sound in your voice. and yes, he won’t stop in just one round; there might be a second one—messy, heavier, and more desperate.

he kisses you hardly, his mouth searching for yours as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of you. of course, he’s exhausted, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding his own weight, but he doesn’t want to stop. he keeps driving into you with a slow, friction-filled grind that makes your head swim.

“don’t close your eyes,” he commands softly, his breath hot against your neck. “hold it a little longer. i’m not letting you go yet.”

later, he doesn’t say much, but he acts more... clingy. kyungsoo pulls you flush against his side, his arm a heavy, warm weight that holds you impossible closer. the way his lips brush your skin, and his nose keeps buried in the crook of your neck, tells you that even now, he’s still completely consumed by you. “thank you for this, love.”

☆ — jongin

he thinks he has everything planned. the movie playing as background noise, and a script in his head that he’s rehearsed a dozen times. but as you sit together, his nerves turn his movements into something hesitant and sweet. jongin tries to catch your attention with soft strokes along your forearm, his fingers lingering just a second too long against yours, stealing small, tentative kisses, but the smooth moves he practiced seem to fail him, so… he gives up.

he leans in, his nose brushing against your ear, murmuring softly: “can we… can we turn it off? i can’t focus on anything but you.” his honesty makes you melt. you’re flushed when you turn your head to him, him kissing you when you nod, and he gently guides your back against the plush cushions of the sofa. 

jongin moves with a cautious, breathtaking tenderness, treating you as if you were made of glass. between deep kisses, he behinds to peel away your clothes, his hands trembling just enough for you to notice. he lets out a soft, nervous chuckle when his fingers fumble with a button. “sorry. you’re just… so beautiful. i want this to be perfect for you.”

jongin puts you first in every sense of the word. his praises are hushed and reverent, whispered against your skin as he maps out your body with his palms. when he finally makes love to you, his hips move are slow and incredibly tender, filled with a reverence you’ve never seen before. he’s memorizing you—the curve of your waist, the heat of your breath, the way your fingers lock behind his neck when you’re close to your orgasm.

“stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking as he nears his limits. “right now, baby.”

but once that first peak passes, something shifts. he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom to claim you again. this time, the energy is different. jongin’s more secure, more confident—more him. he moves with a free, fluid intensity, his hands are possessive as they slide under your thighs to pull you closer, his lips claiming your neck. there’s no more hesitation when jongin drives into you with a purposeful heat, his mouth never leaving yours, making sure you feel him completely.

after your second orgasm, and by the time you finally collapse into the pillows, you two are a tangled mess of limbs and damp sheets. what he planned doesn’t matter anymore because what he has with you now is better. jongin peppers your face with sloppy, exhausted kisses, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your heart.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs with a tired smile, pulling the duvet over both of you. “i’d never let you go, angel. never, never, never,” he repeats while his nose buries in your hair, squeezing your body with so much love that every part of you melts.

☆ — sehun

he starts the night with a restless, cocky energy. sehun’s a bit clumsy at first, knocking over a glass or fumbling with his phone, but he covers it with a smirk that says he’s doing it on purpose just to keep you off balance. he simply slides in, his long limbs tangling with yours until there’s no air left between you.

“you’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice a low, melodic tease. “do you like me?” oh, he loves to see you flush, so before you could say anything, he’s kissing you—deep, possessive. his hands are restless, playing with the hem of your blouse, his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach just enough to make you shiver. he waits until he sees that specific look in your gaze that gives him the green light to keep going.

sehun loves the power shift. he pulls back just long enough to shrug off his shirt, his broad shoulders and lean muscle catching the dim light, before he starts on yours. in a few seconds, the make-out session turns messy and frantic, a collision of lips and teeth that neither of you can—or want to—control. 

when you reach the bed, and his cock is incredibly hard, he holds you closer, spreading your legs to finally slide into you. the last of his composure shatters; sehun loses it completely, a ragged, heavy breath escaping him as he anchors himself inside you. he holds you so close it feels like he’s trying to pull you under his skin, his mouth finding yours again in a feverish exchange of tongues and breathless whimpers.

“god, you’re so… so fucking tight,” he wheezes, his forehead dropping against yours. he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re adjusted to him, but the second he feels your hips bucking to accelerate the pace, he matches your energy with a sharp, cocky grin.

sehun immediately takes the lead, his rhythm becoming rapid and relentless as your bodies find a pace made only for the two of you. you’re reaching for him, your fingers digging into his back, and just as the tension reaches a breaking point, he catches you off guard. with a sudden, powerful surge of strength, he rolls you over in the middle of the bed so you’re on top now.

he groans as you settle over him, his large hands immediately coming up to cup your ass and mold to your curves, pulling you down for another deep, soul-searing kiss. he wants to see the look on your face when you break, his thumbs tracing your lips while he watches you reach your orgasm. but he isn’t any better—his whole body tense, burying his fingers on your skin, trembling in desperation.

after you both shatter, neither of you wants to move; the exhaustion is a warm, weighted blanket. he stays there for a long moment, inside, simply breathing you in, before he finally finds the energy to move.

of course, he loves to tease you a bit. and he loves even more that you feel too comfortable by his side, he doesn’t have to act like anyone else to finally claim you.

sehun cleans you up with a surprising, quiet tenderness as he pulls you back into his arms to warm you. he can’t help but whisper one last flirtatious comment into your ear. “don’t get too comfortable,” he murmurs with a cocky smile. “i have a feeling i’m gonna want a rematch in about a minute.”

Kyungsoo loved the way your eyes twinkled when you smiled, and the way you reflexively looked away whenever a laugh took over. He watched you from a distance, a soft smile tugging at his lips, entirely unaware that you had already caught his gaze.

“Soo!” you shouted over the thrumming bass. “C’mere.”

The trance snapped. Kyungsoo began to weave through the dense crowd, but the sight ahead brought him to a dead halt. A tall man stood by your side, his arm coiled possessively around your waist as he leaned in to murmur something against your ear. Even though the music was loud, he noticed it—that stranger was clearly flirting with you.

Kyungsoo cursed himself. He only stepped away to grab drinks, never expecting someone to move in so quickly—certainly not someone who could make you laugh that specific way, or make you scrunch your nose in the expression he adored. A surge of protectiveness flared in his chest, a fleeting urge to swing at the stranger, maybe from jealousy, but he suppressed it. After all… he was just your best friend—and the one who fucked with you when you feel needy.

The next thing he saw was the two of you making out right in front of him. Sehun—as you called him—made Kyungsoo feel nauseously jealous.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye. He simply set the glasses down on the nearest table and vanished, unable to endure the torture for another second.

Kyungsoo groaned. The persistent knocks at the front door made him wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented from the drinks he had drunk before going to bed. He stumbled out of his room to answer it, just wearing his pair of boxers. You were there on the threshold—giggling, tipsy, and clinging to him the moment the door swung open.

He hated his own weakness, but god… he really loved the way you sought out his lips. He was obsessed with the way your long nails scraped across his torso.

“Soo,” you whimpered. “Please, hmm?”

“Fuck.” More at his own lack of resolve.

Your clothes ended up on the floor, in a trail from the living room to his bedroom. Leading the way, his mouth was everywhere—along your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone—claiming every inch with a desperate precision that drove you crazy.

When you were in bed, there was no slow path. Kyungsoo was starving for you, and you certainly loved the way he sucked the sensitivity of your skin. He wanted to leave marks, to brand you so deeply that no one else would dare look at you the way he had.

He knew what was coming—the way you rode with a relentless rhythm that made his head hit the headboard. You moved with a desperate urgency, squeezing him so tightly that he had both hands buried in your hips. Kyungsoo’s pulse thundered in his ears as he pulled you beneath him, his fingers tangling in your hair with a possessive grip he usually tried to hide, kissing you messily.

When he finally filled you with his hot seed, the sensation made your back arch and

dug your nails into his shoulders. Moaning, your nails scratched sharp lines down his torso, but he only pushed deeper, losing himself, groaning.

You shattered, your body trembling under the weight of an orgasm that left you breathless, you didn’t let him go. Your eyes found him, hungrily, panting against his lips, asking for more.

Kyungsoo was weak for you, always had been. He couldn’t resist those eyes that begged for him; he couldn’t say no to you.

“He was such an asshole,” you murmured, pulling his forearm over your waist, tucking yourself against the curve of his body. “Can’t you believe he didn’t even wanna pay for the drinks?”

Kyungsoo feigned exhaustion, letting out a long yawn to mask the way his heart felt every time you talked about someone else. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing you in. “Is that so?”

“He didn’t even pay for his own,” you huffed.

He had to bite his tongue to prevent a laugh from escaping. At least, that tall man won’t be a threat anymore. “Wow, that’s… pathetic.”

“Right?” You shifted slowly, turning in the circle of his arms until you were facing him. You pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, your lips curving into a soft, secret smile when he finally opened his eyes. “At least I’m exactly where I wanted to be.”

Kyungsoo felt his heart skip a beat. “H-here?”

You nodded. “I like you, Soo.”

The world seemed to stop for him. Kyungsoo hovered on the question, wondering if he was dreaming or… if the drinks were playing tricks on him. But before he could find his voice, you giggled softly and rolled away, falling into a heavy sleep seconds later—the sheer exhaustion of two rounds finally claiming you.

Sleep was almost impossible for Kyungsoo. He lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling as your steady breathing filled his room. You had never said that before. Had he misinterpreted the weight behind them? Did you like him as a friend or as… something more? He sighed, pulling you back into his arms as if your dreams might hold the answers he was too afraid to ask. Eventually, he drifted off, clinging to the desperate hope that you might repeat those words in the morning.

When he finally woke, the bed felt so cold it was hard to believe anyone else had been there at all. Frustration surged through him as he shifted. It wasn’t the first time you had slipped away before sunrise, and it certainly wasn't the first time you had left a gift on his nightstand.

He picked up the small scrap of paper. “Forgot to tell you: you were amazing last night. I’ll call you later, Soo! ILY <3.” A vibrant mark of your lipstick adorned the corner.

Kyungsoo traced the red tint with his thumb, eventually pressing the paper against his own lips. He closed his eyes, let out a shaky breath, and felt it—that familiar, painful stir of desire as the memory of your touch rushed back to haunt him. He was hard on just the thought of you.

Chanyeol’s living room was thick with the scent of beer and cheap snacks. Kyungsoo sat slumped on the sofa, half-listening to the overlapping stories of his friends, his mind drifting back.

“I’m telling you, Kyungsoo, you’re too tense,” Baekhyun laughed, waving a half-empty bottle in the air. “Drink up.”

Kyungsoo took a sip of his own beer and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Suddenly, a rhythmic vibration rattled the wooden kitchen table behind them. A screen lit up, cutting through the dim light of the apartment.

“Hey, your phone is—,” Jongin noted, leaning over from the counter to squint at the display. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “Oh. It’s her.”

The change in Kyungsoo was instantaneous. He practically lunged from the sofa, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

“C’mon, man!” Chanyeol intercepted him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do it. We talked about this, remember? You said you were gonna give it a rest. Let her wonder where you are for once.”

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo muttered, his eyes locked on the glowing device.

“Hey, he’s right,” Baekhyun added. “She only calls when she’s lonely. Stay here, man. Finish the drink. Call her later.”

The phone stopped ringing. For a heartbeat, silence reclaimed the room. Then, it started again. Kyungsoo didn’t hesitate this time. He shoved past Chanyeol’s arm and snatched the phone off the table, his thumb sliding across the glass before his friends could utter another warning.

He stepped into the quiet of the hallway, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he breathed, his voice betraying every ounce of the resolve he had tried to build.

“Soo…” Your voice came through the line, low and honey-thick with need. He could practically hear the pout in your lips. “I’m in bed. It’s so empty. Please… I need you here, mh? Shit—I miss you.”

The second he heard you moan, the beer, the warnings, the frustration, the lecture from his friends—it all evaporated, replaced by a singular, driving heat.

“Where are you?” he asked, already reaching for his jacket hanging by the door.

“My place,” you whimpered. The sound sent a jolt of electricity straight to his gut. “Soo...”

“I’m coming,” he confirmed. “Don’t… move. I’ll be there in ten.”

Kyungsoo didn’t even look back at the living room. He heard Jongin sigh and Chanyeol call out his name in protest, but Kyungsoo was already out the door, the cool night air hitting his face as he hailed the first taxi. He knew they were right—he knew he was being weak—but the thought of you waiting, calling for him, wanting him, was the only thing that mattered.

He was going to treat you exactly the way you asked, even if it broke him.

“I’m busy, Soo.” The background noise suggested a loud street.

“I just wanted to see if… if you were free for dinner. Just... food?”

“Dinner? Like a date?” A small, sharp laugh came through the speaker. “Soo, I’ve got plans tonight. Maybe I’ll call you later… y’know, if I’m bored, okay? Bye."

The line went dead before he could even breathe out a response.

Kyungsoo groaned, dropping his head into his hands. He was thinking too much—he knew he was. He was losing his mind, trapped in the orbit of someone who only wanted him when the sun was down and the pride was tucked away.

“Hey, let’s grab another round in the kitchen!” Chanyeol urged, his voice a little too loud, a little too forced.

“Another round?” Kyungsoo frowned, sensing the deflection. “I told you I don’t wanna drink tonight.” He turned his head, his gaze cutting through the crowded room until it landed on the one person he had been trying to erase from his mind.

You weren’t alone. You were tucked into a corner with a man he didn’t recognize, your bodies nearly fused together. You were laughing, that melodic sound he loved. He watched, paralyzed, as the man’s hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you even closer.

Kyungsoo felt sick. “I need some air,” he simply said before leading to the terrace.

The night was cold, but it did nothing to cool the fire in his blood. He fumbled a cigarette from his pocket, and the flame of his lighter was unsteadily in the breeze. Kyungsoo took one drag, hoping the nicotine would act as a bandage for the raw ache in his chest, but he couldn’t even bring himself to smoke. He just leaned against the railing, staring at the rest of the city.

Kyungsoo was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door slide down. He didn’t even notice a presence until a pair of slender fingers reached out and snatched the cigarette right from his hand.

Kyungsoo blinked, his heart skipping a beat as he looked up. It wasn’t a hallucination. You were standing there, looking ethereal in the moonlight, leaning your back against the rail as you took a slow drag of his cigarette. You exhaled a plume of smoke, your lips curving into that smile, those irresistible eyes locking onto his.

“What’s weighing on that head tonight, Soo?”

Kyungsoo let out a long, shaky breath, staring out at the city lights. “I’m just tired,” he lied. “I’ve had a long week. That’s all.”

You stepped closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the fading smoke of the cigarette. Your warm fingers grazed his jaw before settling against his cold cheek. “You’re a bad liar.” Your thumb traced the line of his lower lip. “You haven’t drunk at all. And looking at this cigarette won’t answer anything. Talk to me, Soo.”

How do you know he didn’t drink tonight? Again, you were messing with his head again.

Kyungsoo flinched by your touch, stepping back until his spine hit the cold stone of the terrace wall. He needed distance; he needed to breathe without your scent filling his lungs. “Don’t.” His voice cracked. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like you care what’s in my head when you spent the last hour glued to someone else.”

You tilted your head, a smile ghosted on your lips with an unreadable expression, but you didn’t back away. “Is that so? You’re jealous?”

“Jealous?” Kyungsoo let out a bitter laugh that felt more like a sob. “Maybe I am. But I’m also exhausted from the way you run to me when you’re lonely and then treat me like a stranger. I’m exhausted from waiting for a call that only comes when you’re bored or needy. I’m—” He looked at you then, his eyes raw with pain he couldn’t hide anymore. “I’m tired.”

“Soo…”

Kyungsoo held his breath, terrified of what you would say next, but even more terrified that you wouldn’t say anything at all.

You let the half-finished cigarette slip from your fingers before you lunged forward, kissing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly that the air left his lungs. Kyungsoo stood frozen, his hands hovering mid-air, and then… he crumbled.

Your fingers buried deep into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Kyungsoo’s hands settled firmly on your waist, his grip possessive yet trembling slightly, as if he were afraid that if he squeezed too hard, he’d wake up from a dream.

“My place, hmm?” he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, velvet register that always made your pulse skip.

A slow, genuine smile spread across your face. “I thought you’d never ask, Soo.”

Kyungsoo’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his breath hitching every time your lips brushed his jaw. The tension increased to the limit when you were practically crawling toward him. Kyungsoo barely managed to park his car and killed the engine in a dark alley.

You didn’t make it to his place.

He pulled you across the console. You scrambled over to sit straddled atop him in the cramped driver’s seat. The space was tight, but it only made the friction much better. You began moving your hips in a slow, torturous grind back and forth against his thigh, your hands fumbling with the button of his pants.

Kyungsoo let out a low groan as he felt your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his underwear. His own hands were gripping your waist before sliding down to catch your ass cheeks.

You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, jerking him off. “Soo,” you moaned against his mouth, yet moved your hips over his thigh. “I need you. Shit—I’m yours.”

Kyungsoo felt his own body betray him; he was about to cum right there in the front seat. “Fuck—I’ve wanted this so much.”

The make-out session was messy—teeth clashing and tongues tangling. The windows already began to fog from the heat radiating off your bodies. Kyungsoo’s breath hitched as his warm palms slid up the silk of your dress, his fingers bunching the fabric around your hips. When his skin met yours, and he realized there was no lace in the way, he let out a low, shaky groan.

“You’re not wearing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping into a rough register. “Did you know—” he had trouble breathing properly, “I-I was gonna… shit—fuck you here tonight?”

You let out a half-giggle, half-chuckle and leaned in to nip at this earlobe. “Maybe,” you breathed near his ear. “I wanted to feel you against me all night, Soo.”

Your mouth pressed an open-mouth kiss against the curve of his neck, sucking directly, giving him a fresh mark as your thumb circled the tip of his cock. “Without anything in the way.”

“Fuck—” he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as he gripped your ass cheeks even tighter, pulling you down hard against his lap.

Kyungsoo ended up cumming through your finger. The hot sticky sperm made every stroke messier, sloppier. His head fell back against the headrest, his thighs were trembling, his whole body tensed, groaning in an intense pleasure he only felt when he was with you.

A soft chuckle left your mouth. “Keep going, Soo.” Your tongue traced a path from his neck to his jaw, and then to his lower lip, which you sucked into your mouth. “Lemme treat you right. Like you deserve.”

“Baby—”

“Shhh.” You moved your hips in a slow, torturous grind that made him hiss. He could feel the warmth of your cunt against his thigh, almost dripping. “Shit… should I cum too?”

You slowly slid your sticky, cum-coated fingers into your own mouth, cleaning them with an eye-locking gaze, letting them pull out with a pop sound. Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open, a choked sound dying in his throat. He looked stunned, his arousal surging back immediately. He reached down, gathering the slick heat from his length onto his fingers, trembling. He pressed them against your lips, sliding them into your mouth with a desperate urgency.

“Mmh…” you hummed in response, soaking wet between your folds.

“Fuck—you’re so bad for me.”

You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his, curving your lips after pulling his fingers out. “Am I?”

“That’s why I like you so much.”

Kyungsoo finally guided you down. When he thrusted into you, the slick, messy friction of his own spent cock and the wetness of your cunt acting as a lubricant, he let out a sound that was less of a moan and more of a pained, desperate growl, making you moan too.

“Fuck,” Kyungsoo groaned, his hands flying to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so tight—so fucking perfect.”

He was incredibly hard again, his cock pulsing inside you as your tight, wet walls clenched desperately around him.

You threw your head back, your nails clawing into his shoulders as a loud, uninhibited moan ripped from your chest. “Ah—Soo!”

“F-fuck,” he choked out, his hands flying to your bare waist, his thumbs digging ruthlessly into your hips to anchor you.

Kyungsoo didn’t waste a second. He arched his back and thrust upward, hard and unapologetic, his hips slamming into yours with a wet, heavy slap. He picked up a frantic, punishing rhythm, his hips hitting yours so hard the car rocked on its suspension.

“Is that what you wanted? For me to fuck you raw like this?”

“Yes!” you whimpered, your teeth sinking into his lower lip, dragging against the sensitive skin until you tasted a hint of blood. You rolled your hips back, meeting every heavy, upward strike with a desperate grind of your own. “Oh—harder, Soo!”

His hands slid down from your waist, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh of your bare ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging the skin like stress balls as he drove into you. “No one else gets to hear you make these noises, huh? You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours—fuck!” you cried out, your voice breaking as the heavy, wet friction pushed you right to the jagged edge. You arched your spine, your internal muscles clenching around him so violently it nearly derailed his rhythm. “Soo, please—right there!”

Kyungsoo let out a low, primal roar, his veins popping in his neck as he gave in to the chase. He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming fast, messy, and relentlessly deep, burying himself to the hilt over and over again.

You screamed his name into his neck, your body locking up as a blinding, toe-curling orgasm ripped through you. Kyungsoo’s hips bucked one final time upward as he came violently inside you, his loud, guttural shout filling the fogged-up car. He pulled you flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your sweat-slicked back, both of you completely breathless, sticky, and ruined in the dark.

That night, Kyungsoo knew he could never escape from you.

He didn’t want to, though.

☆ — junmyeon

gently and slowly at first—his lips finding your inner thighs before his tongue makes contact with your slit. his breath is already ragged at the first touch, like he really wants everything at once.

“so beautiful, so soft.” junmyeon’s praises are endless… until he’s making out with your cunt. his hands slide down your legs, resting them on his shoulders, sinking deeper between your thighs.

junmyeon definitely doesn’t want to hide how lost he is in you and your taste. moans escape his lips as he laps you up like a hungry animal, burying his nose in your clit just before parting your folds with his own fingers, letting his tongue explore your entire slit.

junmyeon won’t stop you. he loves it when your hips sway over his mouth, or when your hands can’t help but grip—or pull—his hair, yes… especially when your thighs press against his face as he’s assaulting your clit—trapping it between his lips, sucking, and moving his tongue in a madness circled rhythm—all to give you pleasure.

he’s obsessed with those little moans and how your body starts to lose control just before reaching its limit—shaking, gasping for breath. rest assured, junmyeon won’t stop until you cum for him, and when it happens, he’ll make sure to drink every drop as if it were the most delicious elixir he’s ever tasted, licking and sucking every drop.

as if that weren’t enough, he continued kissing your thighs, your sensitive bud, until he reached your abdomen on a gentle, slow trail of wet kisses. he looks up at you, his face is flushed, his lips swollen, and that knowing smile tells you everything: he’s completely obsessed with the way he just made you break.

☆ — minseok

sloooow burn. minseok approaches you with a steady, burning intent that makes your skin prickle before he even touches you. he takes his time, his mouth trailing downward in a path of fire. he leaves a map of darkening marks along your waist and across the soft skin of your belly, his teeth grazing you just enough to leave a reminder.

minseok hooks his fingers into the lace of your panties, pulling them down, slowly, pressing his lips against your inner legs with soft kisses. he observes, loving the way your lips part as you wait for him.

minseok grant it—starting with soft, delicate kitty licks along your folds. the first contact of his tongue is light, teasing, and maddeningly brief, sending a fresh wave of tremors through your entire body.

as minseok hears those broken whimpers escape you, his composure finally starts to fray. he sinks deeper, his hands sliding under your hips to lift you toward him. he buries his face in your cunt, his tongue shifting from those light, teasing touches to a broad, firm lap that claims you entirely. yes, he lets you guide him because his mouth becomes a frantic, hungry thing as he sucks and swirls with a rhythm that pushes you right to the edge.

“my sweet girl.” his voice is a low, gravelly vibration between your thighs, letting you shatter.

after cleaning you, minseok will work his way back up in a slow trail of wet, messy kisses to your lips, murmuring how much he loves you. of course, he doesn’t pull away at any moment; he stays there, holding you close, more romantic, more clingy than before.

☆ — yixing

he knows your body better than you do, his hands mapping out your skin—slow, his lips ghosting over your breast, your abdomen. there’s a raw, unraveled edge to his breathing that tells you his restraint is paper-thin.

“i know how you like to be touched, babe,” he raps against your skin. “don’t hide it.”

yixing takes off the rest of your clothes with a steady hand, his eyes never leaving yours, loving the way you whimper under him. he leaves a trail of deep marks along your body, especially along your inner thighs.

oh, and when yixing finally met your pussy, he’s obsessed. he gives you those firm licks, watching with a predatory satisfaction as you begin to tremble. he knows that specific tremor is the signal that he’s already won.

he buries his face between your thighs, his hands sliding down to grip your legs and hike them over his shoulders. he sinks deep, his tongue lapping you with a hungry madness. yixing’s a man unraveled. he loves a little too much when your body shivers as his mouth plays with your clit.

“lemme see how much you can take, love.” his fingers part you wide, exposing every sensitive inch to his relentless tongue, and then, he slides two of his fingers inside your cunt.

his fingers and mouth will work hard enough to make you a moaning mess, lacking control of your own body. he knows you want more, so he traps your clit between his lips, sucking with a merciless intensity that makes your vision blur. his fingers push you further than you thought you could go, dragging out the pleasure until you’re gasping, your thighs crushing against his face as you finally reach your limit.

when you cum, yixing cleans you with his own mouth, drinking you in like a thirsty man, his tongue making sure to savor every drop. he knows you’re sensitive; your whimpers confirm it when he pulls his fingers out, immediately finding your mouth to make you taste yourself on his lips.

“you were perfect,” he whispers, his lips curving in a smile and his thumb tracing the curve of your hip.

☆ — baekhyun

he’s sharp, playful, but incredibly possessive. baekhyun doesn’t need to guess; he knows exactly where you’re at, and he’s going to use that to make you lose your mind.

his hands are moving over you with a confidence that says he knows you too well. he skips the formalities, his mouth meeting yours in a deep, wet collision before he breaks away to leave a trail of damp, marking kisses all over your throat and chest.

“you’re already so whiny for me, huh?” he chuckles.

baekhyun loves the chase. he strips you with hunger, his eyes dark. he doesn’t dive in immediately; instead, he changes his tactic to maximize the torture. while his mouth marks your inner thighs with bruising kisses and the occasional sharp nip of his teeth, his thumb finds your clit. he rubs it in a relentless, agonizingly perfect circle, watching you unravel under his hand.

“you like that? or… you want my mouth there instead?”

baekhyun buries his face between your thighs, his tongue a total takeover. his hands reach up to guide your own fingers into his hair, forcing you to hold him there while he works. yes, he’s hungry. he laps you up with broad, wet strokes, his nose grinding against you while he talks dirty against your skin, moaning softly.

baekhyun loves it when your hips buck and sway against his face, trying to find more of him. he traps you there, his tongue moving relentlessly. “cum for me, babe,” he murmurs against your wet skin.

baekhyun drinks you in as you shatter, his tongue lapping you up until the very last tremor leaves your body. then, with a cocky smile, he pulls back just enough to lick his sticky thumb, his eyes locked on yours the whole time. he chuckles before trailing wet, sloppy kisses back up your body, claiming your lips in a messy, breathless kiss, smirking in between, his hands already sliding back down to your hips.

☆ — jongdae

jongdae approaches you with a reverence that feels almost holy. he takes his time, his eyes crinkling with that soft smile. he starts by mapping your inner thighs with slow, lingering kisses, his voice a low, melodic hum of praise against your skin.

“you’re so perfect, you know that?” his breath is hot and damp against your body.

jongdae eats you out at his own agonizing pace. his tongue is soft but carries a desperate, underlying hunger—as if he’s trying to memorize the exact shape and texture of your slit with every stroke. he moves with a rhythmic precision, his mouth wide and warm as he claims you.

of course, he never has enough. jongdae groans softly against your wet skin, a deep, vibration-filled sound that tells you exactly how much he’s enjoying your taste. to double the sensation, he finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it in a slow circle that matches the movement of his tongue.

“that’s it, love.” he watches the way your fingers dig into the sheets, his eyes never leaving the way your body reacts to him.

when you arch your back or let out a broken moan, jongdae responds with a deeper, more urgent lap of his tongue. he’s like a man starving for a very specific elixir, drinking you in until you’re shaking and pleading for the end. he won’t let you reach the peak alone; he stays right there, his thumb and tongue working in perfect sync until the very last tremor fades.

☆ — chanyeol

he’s a storm of affection before the clothes even hit the floor. chanyeol is all touch—hands roaming, lips constantly finding yours, his deep voice vibrating against your skin in a stream of breathless praises.

when his mouth finally meets your pussy, chanyeol doesn’t just stay there, groaning. his hands are everywhere, possessed by a restless need to map out every bit of your skin. one second, he’s gripping your thighs to pull you closer; the next, his large palms are molding to your ribs or cupping your breasts. his ragged breath is so hot that you could feel him moving through your slit, catching your clit in his lips, sucking so hard that your body instinctively curves toward him, your back arching off the sheets.

he’s addicted to your taste. chanyeol finds your mouth again in a sudden, surprise kiss, moaning at your favor as his tongue tangles with yours. you’re lost in the heat of his kiss that the graze of his fingers against your folds sent a jolt through your spine, making you jump.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s sliding two long fingers inside of you. he stretches you out with a smooth, rhythmic confidence, and then, he breaks the kiss just to dive back down, feeling the wet, heavy slide of his tongue against your clit.

“so fucking delicious.” that deep rumble vibrates against your cunt.

his tongue works with no stop, circling, while his fingers continue to drive into you, filling you until you’re a sobbing, shaking mess. of course chanyeol doesn’t pull away when you break. he keeps torturing you with his fingers inside, feeling every internal pulse of your orgasm, his tongue catching every drop of your pleasure. he stays until you’re limp and breathless, his face eventually flushed, lips swollen, and a triumphant grin.  

☆ — kyungsoo

kyungsoo is a quiet storm between your thighs. his breath is ghosting over your sensitive skin, his chest heaving with a secure, practiced confidence. oh… and he claims for sure. he buries his face in your pussy with a sudden, firm intent that leaves you gasping.

he’s instantly obsessed with your taste. kyungsoo sucks you so hard that your hips begin to move against him in an uncoordinated rhythm. you’re practically vibrating under the pressure of his mouth, your body trying to find a way to escape the intensity and sink deeper into it all at once.

his hands move to your hips, his fingers digging in with a possessive strength that holds you perfectly still. he isn’t going to let you go that easily. as your fingers find his hair, fisting in the strands in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, he only pushes harder.

his tongue is hungry, exploring every hidden inch of your cunt. he pushes deep, broad, and firm, mapping out your heat with a methodical pace that feels like it’s reaching into your very soul. he breathes heavily against your cunt, the hot air fanning over your clit and sending fresh jolts of lightning through your nerves.

you feel your body betraying you—losing all sense of pride or restraint—as you begin to bed. kyungsoo loves the sound of your undoing. he responds by trapping your clit between his lips, and then his tongue moves in that maddening rhythm while his nose grinds against you.

kyungsoo doesn’t flinch when your orgasm hits, violent and all consuming. he holds you through the shaking, drinking you, savoring every drop, lazily cleaning you up with a slow, possessive worship.

☆ — jongin

jongin is all hands and heat from the start. he craves to feel the way you react to every inch of him. he starts by rubbing your folds with a slow, heavy pressure, his thumb circling your clit while he leans up to claim your lips in a deep kiss. he explores your cunt with a quiet intensity, his breath hitching as he realizes how wet you are for him.

with a sudden intent, jongin inserts two of his long fingers inside you. he doesn’t just push, he slides them in with a rhythmic, confident grace that makes you back arch off the sheets. as he finds his pace, his lips begin their slow agonizing descent down your body—past your breasts, over your stomach—until he finally meets your pussy.

his hungry, plump lips tell you everything—how much he’s been starving for this, how much he’s been fighting the urge to just lose it. he sucks and laps you up with a frantic, wet energy, his tongue broad and firm as he really claims you. his fingers work in perfect sync with his mouth, driving into you with a steady, deep friction that leaves you whimpering his name.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps against your wet folds, his voice vibrating.

he loses all his control as he hikes your legs up, holding them steady over his shoulders so he can bury himself against you. jongin is like an animal, his nose grinding against your clit while his tongue and fingers move in a madness-driven rhythm. he’s relentless, his ragged breaths fanning over your sensitive heat, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

he waits for your release like a predator, his hand digging into your thighs to keep you grounded. when you finally shatter, jongin doesn’t pull back. he cleans every single drop of your pleasure as if it were the most precious thing he’s ever tasted. he’s physically incapable of leaving your folds; even as the tremors of your orgasm rack your body—and his hands—his tongue continues its worship, his fingers stay buried deep inside you, feeling your walls clenching around him.

☆ — sehun

sehun doesn’t ask too much. there’s a sudden shift in his mood before he drags you into his space. he surely doesn’t care if you’re dressing up or something; if he wants you, he takes you. he holds you steady with a grip that is firm and unapologetically possessive, his large hands anchoring your hips as if to remind you exactly who you belong to,

“don’t move, babe,” his voice dropping into that slow, dangerous register, like commanding.

sehun starts by leaving a trail of dark, deep marks along your inner thighs—bruises and nips that he knows only he will see later. he loves the idea of your skin carrying his signature. when he finally moves to eat you out, he’s a messy, dirty eater in the best possible way. there’s no restraint; he’s all wet heat and broad, sliding tongue, his mouth wide as he devours you.

sehun is completely addicted to the way you taste. he doesn’t just lap at you; he buries his face against your folds, making out with them, his nose grinding against your clit while he lets out low, guttural moans that vibrate directly into your sensitive skin. he wants you to feel his hunger, to hear how much you’re unraveling him.

“shit… you’re so wet for me.” he pulls back just enough to see the mess he’s making before diving back in.

raw and relentless, he uses his tongue with a frantic energy, pushing deep into your folds and sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking and your voice is a broken string of whimpers. he loves the friction, the way your body bucks back against his mouth for more.

of course sehun will drink every drop of your release. he’s messy, his face flushed and wet when he finally looks up at you. he licks his lips slowly, a cocky smirk playing on his mouth as he leans in to kiss you.