haii I was thinking hc with virgin!reader (she isn't dumb or anything, but she just doesn't know much about making love), and Hyunjin happily agreed to teach you.
Hyunjin x virgin!reader headcanons
synopsis: my take on how how hyunjin treats his girl during her first time
• Hyunjin spends weeks easing you into the idea, never pushing, always checking in with soft whispers during movie nights on the couch. When you finally confess your nervousness about being a virgin, his long fingers intertwine with yours, eyes sparkling with reassurance as he kisses your knuckles. "We'll go at your pace, baby. I just want to make you feel good."
• He dims the bedroom lights, lights a vanilla candle for a soothing scent, and lays out soft towels on the bed, explaining everything beforehand—no surprises. He strips slowly first, revealing his lean, toned body, cock already half-hard and curving slightly upward, veins tracing the length, to normalize it for you.
• He starts with endless kisses, lips brushing yours feather-light at first, then deepening as your mouth opens for his tongue to slide in, tasting sweet like the strawberry lip balm he knows you love. His hands roam your clothed body, thumbs circling your nipples through your shirt until they pebble. "Can I take this off?" he murmurs against your lips, waiting for your nod before peeling your top away, bra following. He stares in awe at your bare breasts, palming them gently, rolling nipples between fingers. "So pretty," he breathes, lowering to suck one into his warm mouth, tongue flicking the tip while his hand kneads the other.
• Lays you back on pillows, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, sucking faint marks that won't bruise. He unhooks your jeans, sliding them off with your panties, exposing your untouched pussy—pink folds glistening slightly from arousal. "You're already wet for me," he says softly, not mocking, just amazed, parting your thighs with care. His breath ghosts over your clit before his tongue flattens, licking a slow stripe up your slit, savoring your taste. You gasp, and he pauses. "Too much?" Only resuming when you shake your head, then circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle suction drawing whimpers from you.
• He grabs lube from the nightstand—"Just in case," he explains—coating two fingers generously. One dips into your entrance first, shallow thrusts as his mouth returns to your clit, humming vibrations. "Relax, breathe with me," he coaches, free hand stroking your thigh. When you're rocking against his hand, he adds the second finger, scissoring slowly to stretch your tight walls, curling to brush that sensitive spot inside. Your hips buck; he pins them gently. "Feels good? Tell me if you want more or less." He builds you to your first orgasm like this, pussy clenching around his fingers, juices coating his palm as you cry out his name.
• After your first orgasm he kneels up, guiding your hand to his cock—thick, seven inches, silky skin over steel hardness, precum beading at the slit. "Touch me however you want," he encourages, showing you how to stroke from base to tip, thumb swiping the head. Your innocent grip makes him groan low, hips twitching. He teaches you to lick the tip, tongue darting out to taste his salty precum, then taking the head into your mouth. "Just like that—fuck, your mouth is heaven." He doesn't thrust, letting you set the pace, fingers carding through your hair tenderly.
• He positions you on your back, knees drawn up, or suggests you on top for control—"You decide how deep." Lubed cock nudges your folds, sliding through them first to coat himself in your wetness. "Look at me," he says, locking eyes as the head breaches you, inching in slow, pausing at every gasp. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, stretching for his girth. "So tight—breathe, baby, you're doing amazing." Halfway in, he stills completely, kissing you deeply until you relax, then sinks the rest, balls resting against your ass.
• Buried deep, he grinds first, clit rubbing his pubic bone, building pleasure without overwhelming you. Thrusts start shallow, pulling out to the tip before sliding back, letting you feel every ridge and vein dragging your insides. "Does it hurt?" he checks constantly, adjusting angles—finding the one that makes your eyes roll back. His pace stays unhurried, deep rolls of hips hitting your g-spot precisely, one hand interlacing fingers with yours, the other thumbing your clit in circles. Sweat beads on his forehead, long hair falling into his eyes as he watches your face for every reaction.
• Hyunjin prioritizes your orgasms, whispering praises nonstop—"Your pussy feels perfect gripping me," "Cum for me again, let go." When you clench signaling your peak, he angles to grind harder there, free hand pinching your nipple. Your release milks him, walls pulsing; he moans beautifully, but holds back his own. "One more? For me?" Flipping to spoon if you want closeness, arm around your waist, cock slipping back in from behind, hand dipping to rub your clit while nipping your earlobe.
• Only after your second orgasm does he chase his own, thrusts turning firmer but still controlled, balls drawing tight. "Gonna cum inside—okay?" Your nod has him burying deep, cock throbbing as hot spurts flood your pussy, mixing with your cream. He grinds through it, prolonging both highs, until oversensitive twitches make you both shudder. Pulls out slow, watching his cum leak from your puffy hole, thumb gently pushing some back in with a soft, "Gotta keep you full of me."
• He doesn't let go, wrapping you in his arms, kissing tears or sweat from your cheeks. Fetches warm washcloths to clean between your legs tenderly, avoiding soreness. "You were incredible," he murmurs, massaging your thighs, offering water from a bottle he keeps bedside. Cuddles under blankets, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. He talks softly about how beautiful you looked, how he loves every sound you made, reassuring no regrets.
• Later, spooning with legs tangled, he asks detailed questions—"What felt best? Anything uncomfortable?" Listens intently, promising to improve next time. Draws a bath if you're sore, joining to wash your hair, fingers scalp-massaging shampoo in. Plays your favorite playlist softly, turning it into lazy makeout that doesn't lead to more unless you initiate.
• The day after, he texts good morning with heart emojis, sends care packages—chocolate, pain reliever, your favorite snacks. Plans low-key dates, no pressure for round two. When you do crave more, he's eager but patient, incorporating what you loved from the first time, like extra oral or that specific angle. Builds your confidence, turning your innocence into shared exploration, always making you feel cherished and desired.
@kalisburnerphone [smut] Hwang Hyunjin didn’t do seconds or thirds after a hookup which is why you thought fucking him once would get him to leave you alone. You were wrong, he came back twice during the summer after that one time during the spring semester and now you’ve got a Hwang Hyunjin stuck on you like a lost, lovesick puppy. Hyunjin’s on a mission to sabotage every date you go on until you admit that you two are perfect for each other. You tell him he’s being a stalker, he says he’s being persistent and dedicated and you’re just being dramatic. wc: 17.7k
OUR NEIGHBOURS WOULD DO HATE US !
@yeokisses [smut] of fucking like bunnies, will they complain ? wc: ??
call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me
@sunflowerhyun [smut] between practicality and feeling, Y/N and Hyunjin must decide if what they’ve built is just a fleeting connection of desire in each other’s beds, or the beginning of something worth crossing distances for. wc: 13.9k
Stop the world I wanna get off with you
@jeonginsleftcheek [fluff, smut] your sweet boyfriend comes up with a way to make you feel even more connected as a couple. wc: 7.2k
Nowhere To Hide
@leriexoxo [smut] you’re just his best friend; his open-minded, dangerously close, overly flirty best friend. so when hyunjin tells you he can’t watch porn unless someone else is in the room… you roll your eyes and let him do it. but you don’t expect to stay. you don’t expect to watch. and you definitely don’t expect to end up with his hand around your mouth, legs shaking, his cock deep inside you in a locked closet at a house party four days later. wc: 4.1k
la petite mort
@skzfflovers [smut] What began as a quiet night unraveled into something deeper. No need for explanations. Just touch, breath, and the weight of your little deaths shared in silence. wc: 6.7k
Dont Let Me Love You
@leriexoxo [angst, smut] You were never supposed to fall for him. Not your best friend, the boy who swore he didn’t believe in love anymore. But he touched you like he forgot, looked at you like he remembered, and held you like he wished he could stay. You told yourself it was nothing. That you’d imagined it. Until one night, the truth slipped past your lips, thick with wine and want. And suddenly, he wasn’t pretending anymore. He begged you not to love him. You did it anyway. Now, there’s no going back. wc: 6.7k
head touches pillow.
@catiuskaa [fluff, smut] after a long day without you, finally able to cuddle against you, when his head touches the pillow, Hyunjin can’t help but dream. wc: 5.1k
Vacation
@nctateez [smut] get an email about the vacation you had booked with your then boyfriend, now ex boyfriend. Unable to find anyone else to go with you, will you survive a five day trip with him? wc: 13.2k
I'm Not Glass
@pearlescynt [smut] A vacation with your group of close knit friends? What could be better! Well, you were close with all but one person. He's an acquaintance, even after five years. A lot of things can change on vacation though... All you need is a tiny room, a bean bag, an olive branch. wc: 5.2k
𝐒𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝
@ivyyisbored22 [smut] If you're gonna eat something, at least check the wrapper before putting it in your mouth. wc: 5.5k
On the beach
@jeonginsleftcheek [smut] no synopsis wc: 3.2k
the twelve days of christmas
@sunflowerhyun [fluff, slight angst, smut] Hwang Hyunjin was the epitome of perfection, and everyone worshiped the ground he walked on. Well, not everyone—but Y/N definitely did. To her, he was everything she ever wanted: smart, respectful, and totally hot. For years she dreamt about being with him, about holding hands and going on cute dates and maybe making out in the backseat of his Mercedes, pinning for something she knew she could never have. And this was proven to be true when Hyunjin had moved across the country following his high school graduation for university, only coming back to visit once or twice a year. He was simply out of reach, and Y/N was forced to burry her unspoken feelings towards him and forget about his entire existence. But that’s kind of hard to do, especially when he comes back out of nowhere for the holiday’s, and especially when he becomes an unexpected visitor in her house for twelve whole days. wc: 14k
𝑨𝒓𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒐
@ybklix [smut] An eccentric and peculiar artist, whose art is well known for its captivating and erotic method, is fascinated by you, who naively thought you just accepted a small job for him. wc: 9.3k
☆°. — study me
@hwajin [smut, fluff] no synopsis. wc: 6k
Summer Embers
@filmsbyun [smut] It was worth breaking a camp rule or two — especially when the night held more than one surprise from your boyfriend waiting to be explored. wc: 4.6k
❝ work, doll ❞
@chanifesto [smut] you seem to always need help fixing things around your apartment. luckily, your neighbour, hyunjin, has a knack for household repairs. your damn hot and witty handyman-of-a-neighbour who is always there for his doll in distress—even if all she needs is a good dicking down. wc: 10.4k
NO NUT NOVEMBER
@skzophreniic [smut] A stupid bet, a sugar-sweet kitchen, and a boyfriend who wants you way more than he’s supposed to. wc: ??
JOI-ful
@baby-yongbok [smut] You and Hyunjin are feeling something other than holiday cheer after digging up your holiday decorations. wc: 1.8k
「𝚙𝚢𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌」
@cb97percent [smut] What he has for you is more than a soft spot, and bending him to your will is your greatest pleasure. wc: 4k
Making out with Bang Chan feels like being enveloped in a protective storm of passion, where his kisses start with a gentle, reassuring pressure that quickly builds into something all-consuming and deeply grounding. His lips are soft yet firm against yours, moving with a deliberate rhythm that mirrors his steady, leader-like confidence, as if he's anchoring you to him through every shared breath. He begins slowly, brushing his mouth over yours in light, testing pecks that linger just long enough to draw you in, his warm hands cradling the sides of your face to tilt your head perfectly, ensuring he can savor every angle. As the kiss deepens, his tongue traces the outline of your lips with exquisite care before slipping inside, exploring with broad, unhurried strokes that taste faintly of his favorite coffee, sending waves of warmth through you. He's incredibly attentive to your responses, adjusting the pace when you sigh into him—slowing to match a hesitant pull or intensifying with a subtle suck on your lower lip when you lean in more eagerly. His fingers might thread gently through your hair, applying just enough tension to guide without overwhelming, while his other hand rests at the nape of your neck, thumb stroking soothing circles that contrast the growing heat. Chan's kisses carry an undercurrent of quiet intensity, his breaths coming in soft, controlled huffs that mingle with yours, and he often hums low in his throat, the vibration traveling straight to your core, making the moment feel intimate and safe even as desire simmers beneath. He pulls back occasionally, not to tease but to lock eyes with you, his gaze dark and affectionate, before diving back in with renewed focus, turning the exchange into a silent conversation of trust and longing that leaves you dizzy and craving his steady presence.
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙝𝙤 // 이민호
Making out with Minho is an exquisite game of tease and precision, where every movement is calculated to heighten your anticipation, reflecting his sly, cat-like playfulness that keeps you perpetually on edge. His lips meet yours with a feather-light touch at first, hovering just out of reach to make you chase them, before he finally presses in with a firm, insistent seal that demands your full attention. The initial contact is deceptively soft, but it evolves rapidly into something sharper—his tongue darting out in quick, flicking motions against the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart with expert subtlety before delving deeper to tangle with yours in rhythmic, taunting swirls. He alternates between gentle laps that soothe and sudden nips at your upper or lower lip, the sting followed by the soothing glide of his tongue, creating a push-pull dynamic that's both frustrating and intoxicating. Minho's hands are active participants, one often sliding to your jaw to control the tilt of your head, his fingers cool and steady as they trace the line of your throat, while the other might grip your hip lightly, pulling you closer only to ease back, mirroring the ebb and flow of the kiss itself. His breath is warm and minty, carrying a faint smirk in the way it fans over your skin, and he chuckles softly into your mouth during lulls, the sound vibrating through you and amplifying the electric tension. There's a playful edge to his style, where he'll suck on your tongue briefly before withdrawing just enough to make you whimper, only to reward your pursuit with a deeper, more consuming plunge that leaves your lips tingling and swollen. Making out with him feels like dancing on a knife's edge—controlled chaos that builds layers of desire, his composed demeanor hiding the fire that simmers just below, ensuring you end up breathless and utterly hooked on his unpredictable rhythm.
𝙎𝙚𝙤 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣 // 서창빈
Making out with Changbin is a bold, enveloping rush of energy, where his kisses wrap around you like his strong arms, blending raw confidence with genuine affection in a way that makes you feel both cherished and electrified. From the moment his lips crash onto yours, there's a powerful firmness to them, pressing with unapologetic intent that conveys his straightforward passion, tasting of his post-workout freshness mixed with something inherently sweet about him. He doesn't hold back, his tongue sweeping in boldly to claim yours with broad, sweeping strokes that explore every inch, curling and pressing in ways that send sparks racing down your spine. The pressure builds naturally, his mouth moving against yours in fervent rhythms—sucking on your lips with just enough force to make them plump, then soothing with deep, grounding laps that sync with the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest. Changbin's hands are everywhere, large and reassuring, one splaying across your lower back to arch you into him, the other cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, his calloused thumb brushing your skin in rhythmic patterns that match the kiss. He grunts softly into the contact, the low sounds rumbling from his chest and vibrating through you, adding a layer of primal intensity, while his body heat radiates, making the air between you thick with shared warmth. There's an enveloping quality to how he kisses, pulling you deeper into the moment with each tilt of his head, adjusting seamlessly to your cues—intensifying when you grip his shirt, or slowing to savor a particularly drawn-out tangle of tongues. It leaves you feeling secure in the storm of his affection, your pulse pounding in time with his, as the kiss unfolds like a promise of unwavering strength and desire that lingers long after your lips part.
𝙃𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣 // 황현진
Making out with Hyunjin unfolds like a poetic masterpiece, dramatic and expressive, where every brush of his lips paints vivid emotions across your senses, capturing his artistic soul in fluid, passionate exchanges that feel timeless and profound. His mouth approaches yours with elegant intent, lips soft and full as they meet in a lingering press that starts feather-light, building to a crescendo of depth that mirrors his emotional intensity. His tongue glides in with graceful sweeps, tracing yours in slow, deliberate circles that evoke the stroke of a brush on canvas, tasting faintly of the wine he might have sipped earlier, adding a sophisticated layer to the intimacy. He savors the nuances, sucking gently on your tongue before releasing with a soft nip, his long fingers framing your face to guide the angle, tilting your head to explore new sensations from every perspective. Hyunjin's kisses are infused with longing, his breaths coming in poetic sighs that fan warmly over your flushed skin, and he often murmurs fragments of endearments or whispers against your lips mid-kiss, the words dissolving into the next fervent plunge. One hand might tangle in your hair with artistic flair, applying just enough pull to heighten the drama, while the other traces the curve of your neck or shoulder, fingertips light as they map your responses. The rhythm ebbs and flows like a symphony—intense peaks where his tongue dances wildly with yours, followed by tender pauses where lips simply meld, foreheads touching as eyes flutter shut. Making out with him is immersive, leaving you lost in the beauty of the moment, your heart racing with the romance he weaves so effortlessly, each kiss a story told through touch that promises endless inspiration and connection.
𝙃𝙖𝙣 𝙅𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙜 // 한지성
Making out with Jisung is a whirlwind of playful quirkiness and heartfelt boldness, starting with a shy hesitance that bursts into eager, joyful intensity, reflecting his vibrant personality in kisses that feel fun, unpredictable, and deeply endearing. His lips meet yours tentatively at first, a soft, curious press that lingers with a nervous energy, his tongue peeking out to trace your lips in light, exploratory flicks before venturing inside for tentative tangles that grow more confident with your encouragement. Once he dives in, the kiss turns vibrant—his tongue lapping against yours with excited, erratic strokes that match his bubbly mood, sucking playfully on your lower lip with a giggle that vibrates through the contact, making the whole exchange feel lighthearted yet charged. Jisung's hands fidget at first, hovering before settling—one cupping your cheek with surprising steadiness, thumb stroking your skin in soothing patterns, the other roaming your back in enthusiastic squeezes that pull you closer. His breaths come in quick, excited pants, warm and tasting of the candy he loves, and he whines softly when you pull back even slightly, only to recapture your mouth with renewed fervor, turning the kiss into a tangle of laughter-muffled moans. There's a shy sweetness to how he nips and laps, adapting quickly to your rhythm—deepening when you match his energy, or slowing for those intimate moments where tongues simply curl together in shared warmth. It leaves you smiling against his lips, the playfulness evolving into something sweetly addictive, your pulse quickening with his infectious joy, as the kiss becomes a celebration of connection that's as comforting as it is exhilarating.
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭 // 이용복
Making out with Felix is a soothing balm of deep affection, where his gentle demeanor crafts kisses that wrap you in warmth and tenderness, blending sweetness with subtle intensity in a way that feels nurturing and profoundly intimate. His lips approach yours with soft reverence, pressing in a light, lingering lock that's pure comfort from the start, his tongue slipping inside with careful, caressing strokes that taste of fresh fruit and vanilla, exploring yours in lazy, unhurried laps that build emotional depth. He savors the closeness, sucking tenderly on your lips with a low hum that rumbles from his chest, the deep timbre of his voice adding vibrations that resonate through you, while his freckled hands cradle your face gently, fingers tracing your jawline with feather-light touches that ground the moment. Felix's breaths are steady and warm, syncing effortlessly with yours as the kiss deepens, his tongue curling against yours in rhythmic waves that evoke a sense of being held, one hand often sliding to the small of your back to draw you nearer without pressure. There's an inherent sweetness in his style—gentle nips followed by soothing glides, pauses where he nuzzles your nose against his, murmuring soft affirmations that dissolve into the next tender plunge. He adjusts intuitively to your mood, intensifying with a firmer suck when passion rises or softening to simple melds when you need calm, leaving your lips buzzing with the afterglow of his care. Making out with him feels like sinking into a warm embrace, your heart swelling with the purity of his affection, each kiss a quiet promise of unwavering support and desire that lingers like a comforting glow.
𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙎𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣 // 김승민
Making out with Seungmin is a clever interplay of wit and control, where his calm intellect shines through in precise, engaging kisses that tease your senses with subtle challenges, keeping the intensity intriguing and measured. His lips meet yours with steady confidence, a firm press that unfolds into smooth, intentional depth, his tongue entering with calculated grace to swirl around yours in teasing patterns that mimic his sharp banter—quick flicks that provoke, followed by deeper, unhurried explorations that reward. He tastes clean and faintly herbal, his breaths even and composed as he sucks lightly on your tongue, drawing out reactions he can later reference with a smirk, while one hand rests on your thigh or waist, thumb circling idly to add layers of sensation without overwhelming. Seungmin tilts your head with effortless precision, guiding the angle to maximize contact, his free hand often intertwining fingers with yours for an anchor of connection amid the building heat. The rhythm is his to command—alternating between potent, restrained plunges that leave you chasing and clever pauses where lips brush without parting fully, his gaze locking onto yours mid-kiss to amplify the mental spark. There's a subtle edge to his nips and laps, playful yet controlled, ensuring the kiss feels like a private dialogue, your quickened pulse contrasting his steady demeanor. It ends with you hooked on the intellectual thrill, lips swollen from his measured passion, the exchange leaving a lingering sense of being seen and desired in the most thoughtful way.
𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙅𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣 // 양정인
Making out with Jeongin captures his youthful evolution into confident passion, blending earnest eagerness with sincere exploration in kisses that feel fresh, vibrant, and full of growing intensity. His lips press to yours with tentative warmth at first, a soft seal that quickly gains boldness, his tongue brushing experimentally against yours in curious laps that taste of innocent sweetness mixed with budding desire. As confidence builds, the kiss deepens into enthusiastic strokes—curling and pressing with vibrant energy, sucking on your lips with playful nips that elicit shared smiles, his hands hesitant at first before wrapping around you firmly, one stroking your hair while the other steadies your hip. Jeongin's breaths hitch with awe, warm and quick as they mingle with yours, the rhythm adapting naturally to your guidance—quickening into fervent tangles when you encourage, or slowing for intimate, exploratory moments where tongues simply entwine. There's a genuine vibrancy to his style, light whines escaping when depth increases, his body leaning in with fresh vigor that makes the contact feel alive and promising. He holds you close, the earnestness in every movement shining through, leaving your heart racing with the warmth of his discovery, each kiss a step in his journey that draws you deeper into mutual connection and excitement.
🏷 tag list: @ppangbalism (lmk if you wanna get tagged)
note: heeseung x reader x member fics at the bottom + all tagged fics include 18+ content
➞ GIRLFRIEND SIMULATOR ♡
@heejamas [fluff, smut] when heeseung agrees to test jungwon’s new dating sim game, girlfriend simulator, he expects a dumb, half finished game, until he boots it up on his switch, the screen glitches, and he’s dragged straight into the world he just created. the “girlfriend” character, you, isn’t scripted at all; and heeseung has to figure out how to get out while accidentally developing feelings for a girl who inconveniently does not exist in real life. wc: 37k
℘ SADDLE UP CITY GIRL
@luvyeni [smut] maybe being sent to the country to stay with your grandparents won’t be that bad after all , especially since you met the cute cowboy who works for your grands … wc: 3.8k
⭑ AS YOU ARE
@intromortal [smut] no matter what you tell yourself in moments of insecurity, your boyfriend is there to remind you that he loves you just as you are. wc: 15.3k (LOVE THIS ONE OMG)
POOL PARTY
@prod-ddeonu [smut, slight angst] Blaring music, colorful lights, free alcohol, horny girls, cool water: pool parties were Lee Heeseung's favorite type of party. When you heard that your older brother, Jake, was throwing one in your back yard for Heeseung's birthday, you took your chance to have Heeseung finally notice you. Luckily for you, Heeseung knew your plan; and two can play that game. wc: 7.3k
ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)
@jaylaxies [smut, fluff, angst] having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw. wc: 17.4k
NOTHING SAFE IS WORTH THE DRIVE
@calumcxke [angst & smut] lee heeseung was an asshole. you had decided that. having to work with him on a group project made things a hundred times worse. but when a heart longing to experience love for the first time meets someone more than willing to give it, the line between irritation and something deeper starts to blur. wc: 37.9k
know me
@junsfriend [angst, fluff, smut] Your sister’s deranged plan to sneak into ENHYPEN’s sendoff after their concert was never supposed to involve you, until you run into Lee Heeseung unexpectedly outside the arena. One whirlwind of an interaction together turns into many and now you find yourself falling for him. But when your secret relationship (if you can even call it that) is exposed, can you survive the consequences of being with someone so unattainable? wc: 30k
BREED ME : A CONTRACT ✦
@shortonwon [smut] in a near-future society, your fertility has a deadline—and your government-assigned mate is a complete stranger. with one week to comply, you must live as a married couple, navigating intimacy, desire, and forbidden pleasure… all while pretending it’s just for the contract. wc: 6.7k
CUMMING OF AGE
@enhaflixer [angst, fluff, smut] “If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
“And if she won’t listen…”
"I’ll make her.” wc: ??
CROSSING LINES
@wonarchy [smut] you never expected a simple sleepover at your best friend’s house to turn into something dangerous. heeseung — jena’s older brother, known for his effortless charm and terrible habit of flirting — was supposed to be off-limits. but stolen glances turn into lingering touches and teasing grows bolder. every visit makes it harder to pretend nothing is happening, and every almost-moment leaves you wanting more. wc: 11.5k
10 𝓣𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝓘 𝓗𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝓐𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝓨𝒐𝒖
@swiftjay23 [fluff, smut, angst] For four long, excruciating years, you and Lee Heeseung have been at war, every class, every grade, every scholarship. NYU’s golden boy with a silver tongue and an ego to match has been your shadow and your competition since freshman year. You hate his perfect grades, his smug grin, his cologne that lingers in lecture halls long after he’s gone. You hate that your professors love him. You hate that your boyfriend can’t stand him. Most of all, you hate that you can’t stop thinking about him. A stupid list taped above your desk, 10 Things I Hate About You, becomes the only thing keeping your sanity intact. But somewhere between study dates, heartbreak, and the blur of your final semester, the list starts to change. Hate turns to ache. Ache turns to something you don’t have a name for yet. And by the time you finally rewrite it, it’s too late to pretend you never loved him. wc: 21k
extra cream.
@lusthees [smut, angst] 'pretty boy had it coming the moment he walked into the cafe' wc: 8.1k
Summer love
@in-enha-world [fluff, smut] Heeseung begs Y/N to pretend to be his girlfriend for their annual summer vacation, as one of the girls in their friend group is completely obsessed with him. Having been in love with him for years, Y/N agrees to help him play the part of this fake couple in front of everyone. But when real feelings become entangled in something fundamentally false, how will they manage ? wc: ??
FALLING INTO RUIN
@heesmiles [smut, angst] your world ended the day your best friend died. In the hushed corner of a grief group you never wanted to attend, you find him — the boy with the defiant gaze and a hard exterior. with cracked pointe shoes and a heart still pirouetting in the past, you feel your family’s disapproval tightening around you like an old corset. He is everything you’ve been taught to avoid: trouble, danger, thrill. But in the quiet ache of loss, you discover something soft in him, something that mirrors your own hollow, and you never want to let go. wc: 22k
SWEAT & SEX .ᐟ.ᐟ
@lolliloopsy [smut] no synopsis. wc: 5.3k
dirty little secret
@sincerelyneo [angst, smut] up with the hot soccer player who doesn’t believe in labels (and just so happens to be your brother’s best friend) obviously had to stay a secret. His rules, not yours. And it’s easy…until Heeseung starts acting like any other guy who so much as looks at you is a problem. Because apparently, he doesn’t do labels. But he does do jealousy. wc: 7k
━━━RAGE QUIT 18+
@guliexe [smut, fluff] you started as friends who played games at night—now he’s the one making you moan into his pillow. wc: 15.9k
WAITING ROOM ──★ ˙
@heejamas [fluff, smut] three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something more—stolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with. wc: 21k
TRAPPED
@lassiie [smut, angst] no synopsis. wc: 10k
Press play and obey
@elikajinnie [smut] Heeseung is the loud, late-night gamer type — always behind his door, headset on, cursing at his screen until dawn. Annoying, but harmless. At least, that’s what you believed. When a file on his computer reveals that he’s been watching — listening — far more closely than you ever imagined, the image of your easygoing roommate shatters. wc: 12.7k
@kissued [smut] You’re always going to be hee’s first choice. always. wc: ??
RED FLAG MEANS GO ── .✦ (feat. Jay)
@nephynes [smut, angst] Jay calls you “baby” like a threat. Heeseung fucks you like he hates you. You say you’re confused, but you’ve got both of them on their knees and still keep the door open. Someone should stop you, too bad they’re both in love with the wreckage. wc: 12k
ᛪ PARTIES ARE FOR LOSERS (feat. Sunghoon)
@vaheempire [smut] your roommate, jay threw a welcoming party for you, probably for his own convenience. but those weren’t your thing, you were wallowing in your party. guests weren’t your cup of tea, not until mr. share-my-rank-one-title and mr. rank two arrive to give you a taste of what life should be. wc: 11.5k
cuffs n lassos (feat. Sunghoon)
@hoonieyun [smut, angst] one hot day brings heeseung at your doorstep asking for something cold to drink when he knows better than to sneak around with you; the wife of the town's sheriff, sunghoon. wc: 6.3k
[2025.misolhee] (feat. Jake)
@misolhee [smut] no synopsis. wc: ??
— ¡ 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ! (feat. Sunghoon)
@sunniques [smut] in which your sister’s boring party takes an exciting turn. wc: 3.8k
fire & ice (feat. Sunghoon)
@starryjake [smut] love your boyfriend, heeseung, but have a soft spot for the college hockey team’s star player, sunghoon. wc: 10.3k
I love ur work! Especially ur skz fake text! However i personally maybe this is just a me thing, I prefer if readers pics are fuzzed out only bc it’s a bit disappointing when ur on ur favorite member and the picture isn’t anything close to you and it makes me loses the imagination a bit
Thank you so much for the feedback! It helps me reflect on my posts & I'll try to do better in the future 💗
• 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: suggestive pics, pet names, usage of y/n, usage of the word "bitch" in jisungs part, mentions of dying/hoping someone dies (changbin & seungmin), bad attempts at humor, mentions of boners, chan invading privacy, the guys are desperate
• 𝙨𝙨: 19
• 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙?: no
• 𝙖/𝙣: I tried to include different body sizes/shapes in the pictures I added for the texts, but please give me feedback <3
Reblog for a kiss ♥︎ ─── navigation
bangchan:
minho:
changbin:
hyunjin:
han jisung:
felix:
seungmin:
jeongin:
🏷 tag list: @ppangbalism (lmk if you wanna get tagged)
• 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: face fucking, oral (m!receiving), dirty talking (kinda), bold reader, face shot, cum swallowing, + more I forgot
• 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.3k
• 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙?: no
• 𝙖/𝙣: not proofread
𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 ♥︎ ─── 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝘽𝙖𝙝𝙣𝙜 // 방찬
You're sprawled out on the worn leather couch in the dimly lit dorm lounge after a grueling group practice session, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the silence. Chan's focused on his laptop, tweaking a beat, when you shift closer, your heart racing as you lean in and murmur, "Chan, I need you to fuck my face—right now." His fingers freeze on the keys, head snapping up with wide eyes that quickly narrow into a heated gaze. As the ever-responsible leader, he's used to handling high-pressure situations, but this catches him off guard in the best way, a flush creeping up his neck.
He closes the laptop with a deliberate click, turning to face you fully, his voice dropping to that low, authoritative timbre that sends shivers down your spine. "Baby, you know I take care of my members... and you. But this? You're playing with fire." He stands, extending a hand to pull you up, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you to the center of the room where the rug softens the floor.
Chan doesn't rush; he cups your face in his large hands, thumbs tracing your jawline as he searches your eyes for any hesitation. Finding none, a slow, predatory smile curves his lips. He guides you down to your knees, the carpet rough against your skin, and steps back to shrug off his hoodie, revealing the toned lines of his chest still damp from earlier sweat. His sweatpants follow, pooling at his ankles before he kicks them aside, his thick cock springing free—already swelling with anticipation, the head glistening under the low light.
He strokes himself lazily, watching you with intense focus, like he's composing a symphony just for this moment. "Tell me how bad you want it," he demands softly, and when you plead, he threads his fingers through your hair, tilting your head back to expose your throat. His free hand teases your lips, parting them before sliding two fingers inside, letting you suck on them as a preview, his breath hitching at the sight.
With a nod of approval, Chan positions himself at your mouth, the musky scent of him filling your senses. He eases the tip past your lips, groaning deeply as your tongue flattens against the underside, savoring the salty tang. His hips rock forward incrementally, filling your mouth inch by veined inch until the head nudges the back of your throat.
"Breathe through your nose, yeah? Good girl," he praises, voice strained as he starts a steady rhythm—controlled thrusts that match his producer's precision, each one deeper than the last. Saliva builds quickly, dripping down your chin onto your chest, and he wipes it away with his thumb only to smear it back over your lips. As he picks up speed, his grip tightens, holding you steady while his abs flex with every snap of his hips, the wet sounds of your mouth echoing in the quiet room.
Tears well in your eyes from the stretch, but he leans down to kiss them away, murmuring encouragements: "You're taking me so well, fuck, just like that." The intensity builds, his breaths coming in ragged pants, until he pulls back slightly, stroking himself furiously to cum in thick ropes across your tongue, holding your jaw open so you can swallow it all, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.
Panting, Chan sinks to his knees beside you, pulling you into his chest for a warm embrace, his lips brushing your forehead. "That was incredible—you're incredible,"
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙝𝙤 // 이민호
The kitchen in your shared apartment smells of sizzling garlic and fresh herbs as Minho stirs a pot on the stove, his lithe frame moving with effortless grace. You've been hovering nearby, stealing glances at his sharp jawline, when you finally blurt it out while he's plating dinner: "Minho, fuck my face—make me choke on it." He freezes, chopsticks midway to his mouth, then sets them down with a clink, his cat-like eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
Minho thrives on this kind of direct challenge; it's like catnip to his teasing nature. A smirk tugs at his lips as he rounds the counter, backing you against the cool edge. "Oh? My little kitten wants to play rough, huh? You better not tap out too soon this time." His voice is laced with that signature sarcasm, but his hands betray his excitement, gripping your hips possessively as he steers you toward the dining table, the abandoned meal forgotten.
Minho loves drawing out the anticipation, so he doesn't undress immediately. Instead, he perches on the table's edge, pulling you between his spread thighs and tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Beg properly first," he commands, his breath warm against your ear, and when you do, he chuckles lowly, rewarding you with a deep kiss that leaves your lips bruised.
Only then does he shove his joggers down, his long cock bobbing free—slender but unyieldingly hard, a bead of precum already forming. He slaps it lightly against your cheek, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen, before tracing it along your bottom lip. "Open up, but don't think I'll go easy." His fingers tangle in your hair, not pulling yet, just controlling as he watches your reaction, his free hand slipping under your shirt to pinch a nipple, blending pain with promise.
Satisfied with your compliance, Minho thrusts forward without warning, burying half his length in one go, the sudden fullness making you gag around him. He hisses in pleasure, hips snapping sharply to hilt himself, your nose pressing into the soft trail of hair at his base. "That's it, take every inch—fuck, your throat's squeezing me so tight," he growls, setting a punishing pace with deliberate, erratic bucks that keep you guessing.
He pulls out just enough to let you gasp for air, only to plunge back in deeper, saliva bubbling at the corners of your mouth and trailing down his shaft. His teasing doesn't stop; he murmurs filthy encouragements between thrusts—"Look at you, drooling like a mess for me"—while one hand guides your head, the other braces against the table for leverage. The table creaks under the force, dishes rattling nearby, as he angles to hit the roof of your mouth, drawing out involuntary moans that vibrate around him. Sweat beads on his forehead, his control fraying until he yanks your hair back, exposing your throat, and cums with a sharp cry—hot spurts coating your tongue and lips, some dripping onto the floor as he rides out the waves, forcing you to lick him clean.
Minho pulls you up into his lap, wiping your face with a napkin from the table, his touch surprisingly tender now. "You did good, kitten—dinner's cold, but worth it,"
𝙎𝙚𝙤 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣 // 서창빈
The home gym echoes with the clang of weights as Changbin finishes his set, his muscles pumped and shirt clinging to his broad back. You're spotting him from behind, pulse quickening, when you step closer post-rep and say breathlessly, "Bin, fuck my face—use all that strength on me." He drops the barbell with a thud, spinning around with a grin that splits his face, eyes lighting up like you've just handed him a challenge.
Changbin's all about that raw power and affection; your words flip his switch from workout mode to dominant lover in seconds. "Hell yeah, you know I can't resist when you ask like that," he rumbles, voice deep and gravelly, wiping sweat from his brow before scooping you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the padded mats in the corner. He sets you down gently but doesn't waste time, peeling off his tank top to reveal the sculpted ridges of his torso, then shucking his shorts to free his girthy cock—thick and heavy, veins prominent from the blood rush.
Changbin kneels to your level first, kissing you fiercely, his calloused hands roaming your body to hype the energy. "Gonna make you feel every bit of me, bunny," he promises, lifting you again to position your head dangling off the mat's edge, the upside-down view making everything feel more intense. He stands over you, stroking his length slowly, letting the tip brush your inverted lips, teasing until you're straining toward him. His free hand massages your throat lightly, preparing you, while he flexes his thighs, showing off the power about to unleash.
With a grunt, Changbin feeds himself into your mouth, the angle allowing him to sink deep immediately, your throat accommodating his thickness with a burn that borders on ecstasy. "Fuck, yeah—swallow around me," he demands, hips pistoning forward with brute force, each thrust slamming home and making your body jolt on the mat. The mirror across the room captures it all—his powerful form dominating, your lips stretched wide, saliva cascading down your neck in rivulets. He grips the mat's sides for stability, grunting praises like "So strong for me, taking this cock like a champ," as he varies the depth: shallow teases followed by full, throat-bulging plunges that have you gagging wetly.
Sweat drips from his body onto yours, mixing with the mess, and the physicality amps everything—his abs clenching, your hands clutching his thighs for anchor. He doesn't let up until the coil snaps, burying deep to unload pulse after pulse straight down your throat, holding there as you convulse around him, milking every drop before easing out with a satisfied sigh.
Changbin hauls you upright into his arms, cradling you like precious cargo, pressing soft kisses to your swollen lips. "You're my favorite workout partner ever,"
𝙃𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣 // 황현진
Surrounded by half-finished canvases in his sunlit studio, Hyunjin sketches idly on a stool while you lounge on the chaise nearby, the scent of oil paints mingling with his cologne. Emboldened by the creative vibe, you set aside your book and say softly, "Hyunjin, I want you to fuck my face." His pencil snaps in his hand, dark eyes lifting to yours with a dramatic flare, surprise melting into intense desire.
Hyunjin's artistic soul sees this as inspiration incarnate; he sets the broken tool aside, rising fluidly like a dancer. "My muse wants me to fuck her face? How could I deny you?" His voice is velvet over steel, laced with passion as he crosses the room, pulling you to stand and leading you to the fur rug by the window, afternoon light filtering through to cast golden hues.
Hyunjin savors aesthetics, so he undresses you first, fingers lingering on your skin as if painting with touch, whispering endearments about your beauty. Naked, he reveals his elegant cock—long, gracefully curved, pulsing with need. He kneels with you on the rug, tracing patterns on your lips with his tip, mixing precum like watercolor, before standing to let you take the lead initially, your mouth enveloping him in slow worship.
But your request lingers, so he gathers your hair into a loose ponytail, using it like a brush handle. "Let me create with you," he breathes, his free hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking as he builds the scene with kisses along your neck, heightening the sensory overload.
Guiding you back, Hyunjin thrusts with artistic rhythm—fluid glides that deepen progressively, his moans harmonizing with the wet slide of him against your tongue. "Shit muse, I love your mouth," he gasps, hips snapping like a performance, angling to graze every nerve in your mouth while tears trace artistic paths down your cheeks. He pauses to admire, pulling out to slap his slick length against your tongue, then dives back in with fervent snaps, the rug burning your knees as he chases climax. His body tenses, long fingers digging into your scalp, until he withdraws, stroking to release in pearlescent arcs across your face and open mouth—framing you like a living portrait. He watches, entranced, before using his fingers to blend it, sealing with a possessive kiss. "I'm gonna paint that pussy with my cum next,"
𝙃𝙖𝙣 𝙅𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙜 // 한지성
The storm outside Jisung's bedroom window mirrors the whirlwind in your chest as you two huddle under a pile of blankets, the glow from his laptop screen casting flickering lights across the posters on the walls. You've just paused a marathon of your favorite anime, the tension from the episode lingering, when you turn to him, your voice barely above the rain's rhythm: "Ji, I want you to fuck my face—get all messy and lose control with me." Jisung, mid-sip of his energy drink, nearly chokes, the can clattering to the nightstand as he coughs and wipes his mouth, his wide eyes darting to yours in a mix of shock and dawning excitement.
His cheeks bloom with that familiar pink flush, but beneath the initial nervousness, you see the spark of his chaotic energy ignite—he's always the one who turns shy moments into explosive fun. "W-Wait, what? Like, right here on the bed? Right now?" he stammers, but his voice cracks with thrill, not rejection. He fumbles to close the laptop, the room plunging into softer lamplight, and scoots closer, his knee bumping yours as he runs a hand through his tousled hair.
The air thickens with anticipation, the patter of rain urging him on as he nods, a goofy grin breaking through. "Okay, yeah—fuck, I'll do it. But promise you'll tell me if it's too much?" His playful side peeks out, but there's a hungry edge now, pulling you toward the edge of the bed where the mattress dips invitingly.
Jisung's enthusiasm bubbles over like always; he doesn't strip with any grace, yanking off his oversized t-shirt in one awkward tug that leaves his hair even messier, revealing the lean, wiry build honed from endless dance practices. His shorts follow in a heap, his cock springing free—average length but rigid with veins standing out from the rush of blood, the tip already slick with a pearl of precum that catches the light.
He straddles your thighs first, hovering uncertainly before leaning down to capture your lips in a frantic, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue darting in with eager curiosity, tasting faintly of the sweet drink. "This feels like a wet dream," he murmurs against your mouth, his hands trembling slightly as they cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. He shifts up, aligning himself so his length drags along your bottom lip, teasing with light taps that make you both giggle nervously at first, but the laughter fades into shared breaths.
One hand dives into your hair, fingers curling loosely as he guides your head back, exposing your throat, while the other strokes himself slowly, building his own hype with soft whimpers. "Open up for me? Yeah, just like that—fuck, you look so ready." He eases just the head past your lips, letting you swirl your tongue around it experimentally, his hips twitching involuntarily as he fights to keep control, the rain outside syncing with his quickening pulse.
Emboldened by your willingness, Jisung's restraint snaps like a rubber band; he pushes forward with a sudden, jerky thrust, filling your mouth halfway and groaning loudly at the wet heat enveloping him. "Oh god, that's—your tongue, shit," he gasps, his pace erratic from the start—quick, shallow pumps that build to deeper invasions, your throat contracting around him with each gag that sends vibrations straight to his core. Saliva pools rapidly, spilling from the corners of your mouth to soak his balls and the sheets below, the mess only fueling his frenzy as he babbles a stream of half-coherent praises and curses. "Taking me so deep—fuck, you're amazing, don't stop." His free hand grips the headboard for leverage, knuckles whitening, while the other tugs your hair in uneven pulls, angling your head to take him straight down your throat until your nose brushes his pelvis.
The bed creaks under his wild movements, his slim hips snapping forward with surprising force, the sounds of slurping and skin meeting skin drowning out the storm. Tears stream down your face from the intensity, but he notices and pauses briefly to wipe them with his thumb, only to dive back in harder, chasing the building pressure. "Gonna cum—ah, hold on," he warns breathlessly, but the release hits him like a wave, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum directly into your throat, some overflowing to dribble down your chin as he rides it out with shuddering thrusts, collapsing forward slightly with a whine when he's finally spent, easing out to let you catch your breath.
Still panting, Jisung slides off you and immediately gathers you into his arms, the blankets tangling around your legs as he peppers your forehead and cheeks with soft, apologetic kisses. "Holy shit—you okay babe? Did I go too crazy?"
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭 // 이용복
Steam still clings to the mirrors in the spacious master bathroom after your shared shower, the scent of his favorite citrus body wash lingering in the humid air as you both wrap yourselves in fluffy towels. Felix is humming a melody under his breath, towel slung low on his hips, when you step closer, letting your towel slip just enough to draw his gaze, and whisper huskily, "Lix, I need you to fuck my face." His humming cuts off abruptly, those deep brown eyes widening behind his damp fringe, a deep blush spreading across his freckled cheeks and down his neck.
Felix, with his perpetual sunshine demeanor, isn't used to such raw requests, but it awakens something primal beneath his gentle exterior—a low, rumbling growl escapes his throat as he processes your words, his hands clenching the towel's edge. "Y/N... you really want that? From me?" His Australian accent thickens with arousal, voice dropping an octave as he steps forward, the water droplets on his golden skin catching the soft overhead light. He doesn't hesitate long; with a nod, he guides you toward the vanity stool, the cool marble floor sending a chill up your spine as you kneel, the intimacy of the fogged-up space making everything feel charged and private.
Felix's touch is reverent at first, his large hands cradling your face as if you're fragile porcelain, thumbs tracing the curve of your lips while he searches your eyes for confirmation. Satisfied, he lets his towel fall, revealing his impressively thick cock—girthy and heavy, freckles dotting the shaft like stars, already half-hard and twitching toward you.
He strokes it slowly to full attention, the veins bulging under his grip, before stepping closer, the musky warmth of him invading your space. "I'll be gentle at first, love—tell me if you need to stop," he murmurs, but his eyes darken with intent as he brushes the tip against your parted lips, letting you taste the clean saltiness. His fingers thread through your wet hair, tilting your head back gently, while his other hand explores your shoulders, massaging away any tension.
He eases in inch by inch, groaning at the suction of your mouth, his hips rolling experimentally to test the depth, building a slow rhythm that has him whispering affections: "So warm, so perfect for me." The steam swirls around you, heightening the sensory haze, as he pauses to lean down and kiss your forehead, his breath hitching when your tongue flicks against him.
As the foreplay ignites his deeper urges, Felix's movements shift from tender to commanding; he straightens, grip firming in your hair as he thrusts deeper, the thickness stretching your jaw wide and filling your throat with a delicious burn. "That's it—take me all the way," he growls, his voice a gravelly timbre that vibrates through you, hips snapping forward in powerful, measured waves that make the vanity mirror rattle against the wall.
Saliva builds and drips copiously, trailing down your chin to pool on the floor, mixing with the remnants of shower water, while his heavy balls slap rhythmically against your skin with each plunge. He angles his body to hit the back of your throat precisely, drawing out gags that make him shudder and praise you hoarsely: "Fuck, your throat's clenching so tight—feels incredible." Tears blur your vision from the intensity, but he catches them with gentle fingers, even as his pace quickens to fervent pounds, sweat beading on his freckled chest and dripping onto you.
The bathroom echoes with wet, obscene sounds and his deepening moans, his abs flexing visibly as he chases release. When it crashes over him, he buries himself to the hilt, cock throbbing as he pumps thick, hot spurts straight down your throat, holding steady until you've swallowed every bit, his free hand stroking your cheek in contrast to the dominance.
Felix withdraws carefully, pulling you up from the stool into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a shield as he nuzzles into your neck. "You were amazing angel—did I hurt you at all?"
𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙎𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣 // 김승민
The vocal booth's dim red light hums softly during your late-night lyric session, the outside world muted by the soundproofed walls as you and Seungmin hunch over the console, scribbling notes on crumpled paper. The air is thick with creative frustration when you lean back, locking eyes with him, and deliver your request point-blank: "Seungmin, if you wanna get rid of some frustration─fuck my face—rough, no holding back." He pauses mid-sentence, his pen hovering over the page, those sharp, intelligent eyes flicking up to meet yours with a raised eyebrow and a slow, calculating smirk that screams he's already three steps ahead.
Seungmin's unflappable wit turns the surprise into an intriguing challenge; he sets the pen down deliberately, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "Demanding, aren't we? In the open, no less." His voice is cool and even, laced with dry amusement, but you catch the subtle quicken of his breath as he stands, locking the door with a soft click that echoes in the confined space. He gestures for you to move to the center, the padded floor invitingly soft, his gaze never leaving yours as he adjusts the overhead light to a warmer glow, turning the professional space into something far more personal.
Seungmin approaches with controlled precision, unzipping his jeans unhurriedly to free his cock—straight, sleek, and impressively rigid, the length curving slightly upward with a flush of arousal. He doesn't rush to touch you; instead, he circles you slowly, like a director setting a scene, before pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kneel before him. "Let's see how well you follow directions," he says, voice commanding yet playful, tapping the tip against your tongue to tease, letting you lap at the precum before pushing just the head inside.
His fingers comb through your hair, gathering it into a firm hold as he guides your movements shallowly at first, testing your limits with grinding presses that make your lips stretch. "Deeper—show me you can handle it," he instructs, his free hand tilting your chin up to maintain eye contact, the intensity of his stare adding layers to the physical build-up. He hums softly, almost like warming up his vocals, the vibrations traveling through him as he eases further, saliva beginning to gloss his shaft, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the heat beneath.
Satisfied with your readiness, Seungmin unleashes with masterful variation—starting with sharp, sudden jabs that catch you off guard, followed by languid grinds that bury him to the base, your throat bulging around his length as gags escape involuntarily. "That's the sound I wanted—keep making it," he murmurs with a soft chuckle, his hips bucking in a rhythm that's both unpredictable and relentless, the booth's walls trapping the slick, echoing slurps and your muffled moans.
He holds your head immobile with one hand, the other bracing against the console for leverage, angling to drag along every sensitive inch of your mouth while saliva cascades down your chin, soaking your shirt. The control is his game; he pulls out abruptly to slap his wet cock against your cheek, only to thrust back in harder, drawing tears that he wipes away mockingly. "Look at you, all messy for me—perfect." Sweat glistens on his forehead, his breaths sharpening as the pace escalates to punishing snaps, his cock twitching before he stills deep inside, releasing in steady, controlled pulses that flood your mouth, forcing you to swallow around him as he watches with satisfied intensity, easing out only when the last drop is claimed.
Seungmin helps you to your feet with surprising gentleness, straightening your clothes and using a spare water bottle from the console to rinse your mouth, his touch efficient but caring. "Not bad for an impromptu session,"
𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙅𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣 // 양정인
The green room backstage pulses with post-concert adrenaline, the air thick with the scent of sweat and stage makeup as crew members bustle outside, but inside, it's just you and Jeongin in a rare pocket of quiet amid the scattered costumes and water bottles.
He's still buzzing from the performance, wiping his face with a towel, when you tug him into the shadowed corner by the makeup vanity and breathe against his ear, "Innie, please fuck my face." His eyes go comically wide, the maknae's innocent flush racing up his neck, but the thrill of the forbidden sparks in his gaze almost immediately—he's grown into his confidence, and your words hit like a dare he can't resist.
"H-Here? With everyone outside? Y/N, you're insane," he whispers, voice husky and breathless, but he doesn't pull away; instead, he glances at the door, then drags a nearby chair to wedge it under the handle, barricading your private chaos. His hands tremble slightly with excitement as he turns back, pulling you down to kneel on a pile of discarded garment bags, the rough fabric scratching your skin just enough to heighten the risk. "Okay, but we gotta be fast—don't want hyungs walking in," he adds with a nervous grin, though his arousal is evident in the tenting of his stage pants.
Jeongin's eagerness overrides any lingering shyness; he fumbles with his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down in one go to reveal his lean cock—slender but rock-hard, leaking profusely from the concert's endorphins, the tip flushed a deep pink. He stands over you, one hand steadying himself on the vanity as the other guides your head forward, brushing his length against your lips tentatively at first, a soft gasp escaping him at the contact. "Just... like this? Open your mouth," he instructs, voice cracking with youth but gaining steadiness as you comply, letting him slide in shallowly to savor the warmth. His fingers knot in your hair clumsily, experimenting with pulls that make you both moan quietly, mindful of the noise outside.
He rocks his hips experimentally, building depth gradually, the faint voices of staff filtering through the door adding electric tension as he whispers, "Feels so good—your tongue, ah." Precum mixes with your saliva early, dribbling messily, and he wipes it with his thumb only to push it back into your mouth, his free hand clutching the edge of the vanity to ground himself amid the building frenzy.
The adrenaline propels Jeongin into action; he thrusts with raw, unpolished fervor, starting awkward but quickly finding a rhythm of quick, deep snaps that bury him fully, your throat accommodating the sudden invasions with wet gags that he stifles with a hand over your mouth briefly. "Shh—fuck, you're tight," he hisses, pace frantic and uneven, hips jerking forward to slap his balls against your chin in sloppy cadence, the garment bags shifting under your knees from the force.
Saliva flies with each plunge, soaking his thighs and the floor, while muffled concert echoes outside mask the obscene sounds within. He angles experimentally, hitting spots that make your eyes water, his whines growing louder despite the risk: "Can't hold it—gonna cum." Tears streak your face, but he wipes them away with his tumb, driving harder until climax overwhelms him—his cock pulsing wildly as he floods your mouth with hot, copious spurts, some escaping to drip down your neck as he grinds through it, thighs quivering before he pulls out with a shuddering sigh, the high crashing beautifully.
Jeongin hauls you up immediately, his arms wrapping around you in a sweaty, breathless hug, peppering your lips and cheeks with quick, grateful kisses. "That was... wow, the best rush ever. You good? Want me to eat you out before the hyungs come?"
🏷 tag list: none yet but lmk if you wanna get tagged
• 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: face fucking, oral (m!receiving), dirty talking (kinda), bold reader, face shot, cum swallowing, + more I forgot
• 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 5.3k
• 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙?: no
• 𝙖/𝙣: not proofread
𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 ♥︎ ─── 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝘽𝙖𝙝𝙣𝙜 // 방찬
You're sprawled out on the worn leather couch in the dimly lit dorm lounge after a grueling group practice session, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound breaking the silence. Chan's focused on his laptop, tweaking a beat, when you shift closer, your heart racing as you lean in and murmur, "Chan, I need you to fuck my face—right now." His fingers freeze on the keys, head snapping up with wide eyes that quickly narrow into a heated gaze. As the ever-responsible leader, he's used to handling high-pressure situations, but this catches him off guard in the best way, a flush creeping up his neck.
He closes the laptop with a deliberate click, turning to face you fully, his voice dropping to that low, authoritative timbre that sends shivers down your spine. "Baby, you know I take care of my members... and you. But this? You're playing with fire." He stands, extending a hand to pull you up, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you to the center of the room where the rug softens the floor.
Chan doesn't rush; he cups your face in his large hands, thumbs tracing your jawline as he searches your eyes for any hesitation. Finding none, a slow, predatory smile curves his lips. He guides you down to your knees, the carpet rough against your skin, and steps back to shrug off his hoodie, revealing the toned lines of his chest still damp from earlier sweat. His sweatpants follow, pooling at his ankles before he kicks them aside, his thick cock springing free—already swelling with anticipation, the head glistening under the low light.
He strokes himself lazily, watching you with intense focus, like he's composing a symphony just for this moment. "Tell me how bad you want it," he demands softly, and when you plead, he threads his fingers through your hair, tilting your head back to expose your throat. His free hand teases your lips, parting them before sliding two fingers inside, letting you suck on them as a preview, his breath hitching at the sight.
With a nod of approval, Chan positions himself at your mouth, the musky scent of him filling your senses. He eases the tip past your lips, groaning deeply as your tongue flattens against the underside, savoring the salty tang. His hips rock forward incrementally, filling your mouth inch by veined inch until the head nudges the back of your throat.
"Breathe through your nose, yeah? Good girl," he praises, voice strained as he starts a steady rhythm—controlled thrusts that match his producer's precision, each one deeper than the last. Saliva builds quickly, dripping down your chin onto your chest, and he wipes it away with his thumb only to smear it back over your lips. As he picks up speed, his grip tightens, holding you steady while his abs flex with every snap of his hips, the wet sounds of your mouth echoing in the quiet room.
Tears well in your eyes from the stretch, but he leans down to kiss them away, murmuring encouragements: "You're taking me so well, fuck, just like that." The intensity builds, his breaths coming in ragged pants, until he pulls back slightly, stroking himself furiously to cum in thick ropes across your tongue, holding your jaw open so you can swallow it all, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.
Panting, Chan sinks to his knees beside you, pulling you into his chest for a warm embrace, his lips brushing your forehead. "That was incredible—you're incredible,"
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙝𝙤 // 이민호
The kitchen in your shared apartment smells of sizzling garlic and fresh herbs as Minho stirs a pot on the stove, his lithe frame moving with effortless grace. You've been hovering nearby, stealing glances at his sharp jawline, when you finally blurt it out while he's plating dinner: "Minho, fuck my face—make me choke on it." He freezes, chopsticks midway to his mouth, then sets them down with a clink, his cat-like eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.
Minho thrives on this kind of direct challenge; it's like catnip to his teasing nature. A smirk tugs at his lips as he rounds the counter, backing you against the cool edge. "Oh? My little kitten wants to play rough, huh? You better not tap out too soon this time." His voice is laced with that signature sarcasm, but his hands betray his excitement, gripping your hips possessively as he steers you toward the dining table, the abandoned meal forgotten.
Minho loves drawing out the anticipation, so he doesn't undress immediately. Instead, he perches on the table's edge, pulling you between his spread thighs and tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Beg properly first," he commands, his breath warm against your ear, and when you do, he chuckles lowly, rewarding you with a deep kiss that leaves your lips bruised.
Only then does he shove his joggers down, his long cock bobbing free—slender but unyieldingly hard, a bead of precum already forming. He slaps it lightly against your cheek, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen, before tracing it along your bottom lip. "Open up, but don't think I'll go easy." His fingers tangle in your hair, not pulling yet, just controlling as he watches your reaction, his free hand slipping under your shirt to pinch a nipple, blending pain with promise.
Satisfied with your compliance, Minho thrusts forward without warning, burying half his length in one go, the sudden fullness making you gag around him. He hisses in pleasure, hips snapping sharply to hilt himself, your nose pressing into the soft trail of hair at his base. "That's it, take every inch—fuck, your throat's squeezing me so tight," he growls, setting a punishing pace with deliberate, erratic bucks that keep you guessing.
He pulls out just enough to let you gasp for air, only to plunge back in deeper, saliva bubbling at the corners of your mouth and trailing down his shaft. His teasing doesn't stop; he murmurs filthy encouragements between thrusts—"Look at you, drooling like a mess for me"—while one hand guides your head, the other braces against the table for leverage. The table creaks under the force, dishes rattling nearby, as he angles to hit the roof of your mouth, drawing out involuntary moans that vibrate around him. Sweat beads on his forehead, his control fraying until he yanks your hair back, exposing your throat, and cums with a sharp cry—hot spurts coating your tongue and lips, some dripping onto the floor as he rides out the waves, forcing you to lick him clean.
Minho pulls you up into his lap, wiping your face with a napkin from the table, his touch surprisingly tender now. "You did good, kitten—dinner's cold, but worth it,"
𝙎𝙚𝙤 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙗𝙞𝙣 // 서창빈
The home gym echoes with the clang of weights as Changbin finishes his set, his muscles pumped and shirt clinging to his broad back. You're spotting him from behind, pulse quickening, when you step closer post-rep and say breathlessly, "Bin, fuck my face—use all that strength on me." He drops the barbell with a thud, spinning around with a grin that splits his face, eyes lighting up like you've just handed him a challenge.
Changbin's all about that raw power and affection; your words flip his switch from workout mode to dominant lover in seconds. "Hell yeah, you know I can't resist when you ask like that," he rumbles, voice deep and gravelly, wiping sweat from his brow before scooping you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the padded mats in the corner. He sets you down gently but doesn't waste time, peeling off his tank top to reveal the sculpted ridges of his torso, then shucking his shorts to free his girthy cock—thick and heavy, veins prominent from the blood rush.
Changbin kneels to your level first, kissing you fiercely, his calloused hands roaming your body to hype the energy. "Gonna make you feel every bit of me, bunny," he promises, lifting you again to position your head dangling off the mat's edge, the upside-down view making everything feel more intense. He stands over you, stroking his length slowly, letting the tip brush your inverted lips, teasing until you're straining toward him. His free hand massages your throat lightly, preparing you, while he flexes his thighs, showing off the power about to unleash.
With a grunt, Changbin feeds himself into your mouth, the angle allowing him to sink deep immediately, your throat accommodating his thickness with a burn that borders on ecstasy. "Fuck, yeah—swallow around me," he demands, hips pistoning forward with brute force, each thrust slamming home and making your body jolt on the mat. The mirror across the room captures it all—his powerful form dominating, your lips stretched wide, saliva cascading down your neck in rivulets. He grips the mat's sides for stability, grunting praises like "So strong for me, taking this cock like a champ," as he varies the depth: shallow teases followed by full, throat-bulging plunges that have you gagging wetly.
Sweat drips from his body onto yours, mixing with the mess, and the physicality amps everything—his abs clenching, your hands clutching his thighs for anchor. He doesn't let up until the coil snaps, burying deep to unload pulse after pulse straight down your throat, holding there as you convulse around him, milking every drop before easing out with a satisfied sigh.
Changbin hauls you upright into his arms, cradling you like precious cargo, pressing soft kisses to your swollen lips. "You're my favorite workout partner ever,"
𝙃𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣 // 황현진
Surrounded by half-finished canvases in his sunlit studio, Hyunjin sketches idly on a stool while you lounge on the chaise nearby, the scent of oil paints mingling with his cologne. Emboldened by the creative vibe, you set aside your book and say softly, "Hyunjin, I want you to fuck my face." His pencil snaps in his hand, dark eyes lifting to yours with a dramatic flare, surprise melting into intense desire.
Hyunjin's artistic soul sees this as inspiration incarnate; he sets the broken tool aside, rising fluidly like a dancer. "My muse wants me to fuck her face? How could I deny you?" His voice is velvet over steel, laced with passion as he crosses the room, pulling you to stand and leading you to the fur rug by the window, afternoon light filtering through to cast golden hues.
Hyunjin savors aesthetics, so he undresses you first, fingers lingering on your skin as if painting with touch, whispering endearments about your beauty. Naked, he reveals his elegant cock—long, gracefully curved, pulsing with need. He kneels with you on the rug, tracing patterns on your lips with his tip, mixing precum like watercolor, before standing to let you take the lead initially, your mouth enveloping him in slow worship.
But your request lingers, so he gathers your hair into a loose ponytail, using it like a brush handle. "Let me create with you," he breathes, his free hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking as he builds the scene with kisses along your neck, heightening the sensory overload.
Guiding you back, Hyunjin thrusts with artistic rhythm—fluid glides that deepen progressively, his moans harmonizing with the wet slide of him against your tongue. "Shit muse, I love your mouth," he gasps, hips snapping like a performance, angling to graze every nerve in your mouth while tears trace artistic paths down your cheeks. He pauses to admire, pulling out to slap his slick length against your tongue, then dives back in with fervent snaps, the rug burning your knees as he chases climax. His body tenses, long fingers digging into your scalp, until he withdraws, stroking to release in pearlescent arcs across your face and open mouth—framing you like a living portrait. He watches, entranced, before using his fingers to blend it, sealing with a possessive kiss. "I'm gonna paint that pussy with my cum next,"
𝙃𝙖𝙣 𝙅𝙞𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙜 // 한지성
The storm outside Jisung's bedroom window mirrors the whirlwind in your chest as you two huddle under a pile of blankets, the glow from his laptop screen casting flickering lights across the posters on the walls. You've just paused a marathon of your favorite anime, the tension from the episode lingering, when you turn to him, your voice barely above the rain's rhythm: "Ji, I want you to fuck my face—get all messy and lose control with me." Jisung, mid-sip of his energy drink, nearly chokes, the can clattering to the nightstand as he coughs and wipes his mouth, his wide eyes darting to yours in a mix of shock and dawning excitement.
His cheeks bloom with that familiar pink flush, but beneath the initial nervousness, you see the spark of his chaotic energy ignite—he's always the one who turns shy moments into explosive fun. "W-Wait, what? Like, right here on the bed? Right now?" he stammers, but his voice cracks with thrill, not rejection. He fumbles to close the laptop, the room plunging into softer lamplight, and scoots closer, his knee bumping yours as he runs a hand through his tousled hair.
The air thickens with anticipation, the patter of rain urging him on as he nods, a goofy grin breaking through. "Okay, yeah—fuck, I'll do it. But promise you'll tell me if it's too much?" His playful side peeks out, but there's a hungry edge now, pulling you toward the edge of the bed where the mattress dips invitingly.
Jisung's enthusiasm bubbles over like always; he doesn't strip with any grace, yanking off his oversized t-shirt in one awkward tug that leaves his hair even messier, revealing the lean, wiry build honed from endless dance practices. His shorts follow in a heap, his cock springing free—average length but rigid with veins standing out from the rush of blood, the tip already slick with a pearl of precum that catches the light.
He straddles your thighs first, hovering uncertainly before leaning down to capture your lips in a frantic, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue darting in with eager curiosity, tasting faintly of the sweet drink. "This feels like a wet dream," he murmurs against your mouth, his hands trembling slightly as they cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. He shifts up, aligning himself so his length drags along your bottom lip, teasing with light taps that make you both giggle nervously at first, but the laughter fades into shared breaths.
One hand dives into your hair, fingers curling loosely as he guides your head back, exposing your throat, while the other strokes himself slowly, building his own hype with soft whimpers. "Open up for me? Yeah, just like that—fuck, you look so ready." He eases just the head past your lips, letting you swirl your tongue around it experimentally, his hips twitching involuntarily as he fights to keep control, the rain outside syncing with his quickening pulse.
Emboldened by your willingness, Jisung's restraint snaps like a rubber band; he pushes forward with a sudden, jerky thrust, filling your mouth halfway and groaning loudly at the wet heat enveloping him. "Oh god, that's—your tongue, shit," he gasps, his pace erratic from the start—quick, shallow pumps that build to deeper invasions, your throat contracting around him with each gag that sends vibrations straight to his core. Saliva pools rapidly, spilling from the corners of your mouth to soak his balls and the sheets below, the mess only fueling his frenzy as he babbles a stream of half-coherent praises and curses. "Taking me so deep—fuck, you're amazing, don't stop." His free hand grips the headboard for leverage, knuckles whitening, while the other tugs your hair in uneven pulls, angling your head to take him straight down your throat until your nose brushes his pelvis.
The bed creaks under his wild movements, his slim hips snapping forward with surprising force, the sounds of slurping and skin meeting skin drowning out the storm. Tears stream down your face from the intensity, but he notices and pauses briefly to wipe them with his thumb, only to dive back in harder, chasing the building pressure. "Gonna cum—ah, hold on," he warns breathlessly, but the release hits him like a wave, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum directly into your throat, some overflowing to dribble down your chin as he rides it out with shuddering thrusts, collapsing forward slightly with a whine when he's finally spent, easing out to let you catch your breath.
Still panting, Jisung slides off you and immediately gathers you into his arms, the blankets tangling around your legs as he peppers your forehead and cheeks with soft, apologetic kisses. "Holy shit—you okay babe? Did I go too crazy?"
𝙇𝙚𝙚 𝙁𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙭 // 이용복
Steam still clings to the mirrors in the spacious master bathroom after your shared shower, the scent of his favorite citrus body wash lingering in the humid air as you both wrap yourselves in fluffy towels. Felix is humming a melody under his breath, towel slung low on his hips, when you step closer, letting your towel slip just enough to draw his gaze, and whisper huskily, "Lix, I need you to fuck my face." His humming cuts off abruptly, those deep brown eyes widening behind his damp fringe, a deep blush spreading across his freckled cheeks and down his neck.
Felix, with his perpetual sunshine demeanor, isn't used to such raw requests, but it awakens something primal beneath his gentle exterior—a low, rumbling growl escapes his throat as he processes your words, his hands clenching the towel's edge. "Y/N... you really want that? From me?" His Australian accent thickens with arousal, voice dropping an octave as he steps forward, the water droplets on his golden skin catching the soft overhead light. He doesn't hesitate long; with a nod, he guides you toward the vanity stool, the cool marble floor sending a chill up your spine as you kneel, the intimacy of the fogged-up space making everything feel charged and private.
Felix's touch is reverent at first, his large hands cradling your face as if you're fragile porcelain, thumbs tracing the curve of your lips while he searches your eyes for confirmation. Satisfied, he lets his towel fall, revealing his impressively thick cock—girthy and heavy, freckles dotting the shaft like stars, already half-hard and twitching toward you.
He strokes it slowly to full attention, the veins bulging under his grip, before stepping closer, the musky warmth of him invading your space. "I'll be gentle at first, love—tell me if you need to stop," he murmurs, but his eyes darken with intent as he brushes the tip against your parted lips, letting you taste the clean saltiness. His fingers thread through your wet hair, tilting your head back gently, while his other hand explores your shoulders, massaging away any tension.
He eases in inch by inch, groaning at the suction of your mouth, his hips rolling experimentally to test the depth, building a slow rhythm that has him whispering affections: "So warm, so perfect for me." The steam swirls around you, heightening the sensory haze, as he pauses to lean down and kiss your forehead, his breath hitching when your tongue flicks against him.
As the foreplay ignites his deeper urges, Felix's movements shift from tender to commanding; he straightens, grip firming in your hair as he thrusts deeper, the thickness stretching your jaw wide and filling your throat with a delicious burn. "That's it—take me all the way," he growls, his voice a gravelly timbre that vibrates through you, hips snapping forward in powerful, measured waves that make the vanity mirror rattle against the wall.
Saliva builds and drips copiously, trailing down your chin to pool on the floor, mixing with the remnants of shower water, while his heavy balls slap rhythmically against your skin with each plunge. He angles his body to hit the back of your throat precisely, drawing out gags that make him shudder and praise you hoarsely: "Fuck, your throat's clenching so tight—feels incredible." Tears blur your vision from the intensity, but he catches them with gentle fingers, even as his pace quickens to fervent pounds, sweat beading on his freckled chest and dripping onto you.
The bathroom echoes with wet, obscene sounds and his deepening moans, his abs flexing visibly as he chases release. When it crashes over him, he buries himself to the hilt, cock throbbing as he pumps thick, hot spurts straight down your throat, holding steady until you've swallowed every bit, his free hand stroking your cheek in contrast to the dominance.
Felix withdraws carefully, pulling you up from the stool into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like a shield as he nuzzles into your neck. "You were amazing angel—did I hurt you at all?"
𝙆𝙞𝙢 𝙎𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣 // 김승민
The vocal booth's dim red light hums softly during your late-night lyric session, the outside world muted by the soundproofed walls as you and Seungmin hunch over the console, scribbling notes on crumpled paper. The air is thick with creative frustration when you lean back, locking eyes with him, and deliver your request point-blank: "Seungmin, if you wanna get rid of some frustration─fuck my face—rough, no holding back." He pauses mid-sentence, his pen hovering over the page, those sharp, intelligent eyes flicking up to meet yours with a raised eyebrow and a slow, calculating smirk that screams he's already three steps ahead.
Seungmin's unflappable wit turns the surprise into an intriguing challenge; he sets the pen down deliberately, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "Demanding, aren't we? In the open, no less." His voice is cool and even, laced with dry amusement, but you catch the subtle quicken of his breath as he stands, locking the door with a soft click that echoes in the confined space. He gestures for you to move to the center, the padded floor invitingly soft, his gaze never leaving yours as he adjusts the overhead light to a warmer glow, turning the professional space into something far more personal.
Seungmin approaches with controlled precision, unzipping his jeans unhurriedly to free his cock—straight, sleek, and impressively rigid, the length curving slightly upward with a flush of arousal. He doesn't rush to touch you; instead, he circles you slowly, like a director setting a scene, before pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kneel before him. "Let's see how well you follow directions," he says, voice commanding yet playful, tapping the tip against your tongue to tease, letting you lap at the precum before pushing just the head inside.
His fingers comb through your hair, gathering it into a firm hold as he guides your movements shallowly at first, testing your limits with grinding presses that make your lips stretch. "Deeper—show me you can handle it," he instructs, his free hand tilting your chin up to maintain eye contact, the intensity of his stare adding layers to the physical build-up. He hums softly, almost like warming up his vocals, the vibrations traveling through him as he eases further, saliva beginning to gloss his shaft, his composure cracking just enough to reveal the heat beneath.
Satisfied with your readiness, Seungmin unleashes with masterful variation—starting with sharp, sudden jabs that catch you off guard, followed by languid grinds that bury him to the base, your throat bulging around his length as gags escape involuntarily. "That's the sound I wanted—keep making it," he murmurs with a soft chuckle, his hips bucking in a rhythm that's both unpredictable and relentless, the booth's walls trapping the slick, echoing slurps and your muffled moans.
He holds your head immobile with one hand, the other bracing against the console for leverage, angling to drag along every sensitive inch of your mouth while saliva cascades down your chin, soaking your shirt. The control is his game; he pulls out abruptly to slap his wet cock against your cheek, only to thrust back in harder, drawing tears that he wipes away mockingly. "Look at you, all messy for me—perfect." Sweat glistens on his forehead, his breaths sharpening as the pace escalates to punishing snaps, his cock twitching before he stills deep inside, releasing in steady, controlled pulses that flood your mouth, forcing you to swallow around him as he watches with satisfied intensity, easing out only when the last drop is claimed.
Seungmin helps you to your feet with surprising gentleness, straightening your clothes and using a spare water bottle from the console to rinse your mouth, his touch efficient but caring. "Not bad for an impromptu session,"
𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙅𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣 // 양정인
The green room backstage pulses with post-concert adrenaline, the air thick with the scent of sweat and stage makeup as crew members bustle outside, but inside, it's just you and Jeongin in a rare pocket of quiet amid the scattered costumes and water bottles.
He's still buzzing from the performance, wiping his face with a towel, when you tug him into the shadowed corner by the makeup vanity and breathe against his ear, "Innie, please fuck my face." His eyes go comically wide, the maknae's innocent flush racing up his neck, but the thrill of the forbidden sparks in his gaze almost immediately—he's grown into his confidence, and your words hit like a dare he can't resist.
"H-Here? With everyone outside? Y/N, you're insane," he whispers, voice husky and breathless, but he doesn't pull away; instead, he glances at the door, then drags a nearby chair to wedge it under the handle, barricading your private chaos. His hands tremble slightly with excitement as he turns back, pulling you down to kneel on a pile of discarded garment bags, the rough fabric scratching your skin just enough to heighten the risk. "Okay, but we gotta be fast—don't want hyungs walking in," he adds with a nervous grin, though his arousal is evident in the tenting of his stage pants.
Jeongin's eagerness overrides any lingering shyness; he fumbles with his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down in one go to reveal his lean cock—slender but rock-hard, leaking profusely from the concert's endorphins, the tip flushed a deep pink. He stands over you, one hand steadying himself on the vanity as the other guides your head forward, brushing his length against your lips tentatively at first, a soft gasp escaping him at the contact. "Just... like this? Open your mouth," he instructs, voice cracking with youth but gaining steadiness as you comply, letting him slide in shallowly to savor the warmth. His fingers knot in your hair clumsily, experimenting with pulls that make you both moan quietly, mindful of the noise outside.
He rocks his hips experimentally, building depth gradually, the faint voices of staff filtering through the door adding electric tension as he whispers, "Feels so good—your tongue, ah." Precum mixes with your saliva early, dribbling messily, and he wipes it with his thumb only to push it back into your mouth, his free hand clutching the edge of the vanity to ground himself amid the building frenzy.
The adrenaline propels Jeongin into action; he thrusts with raw, unpolished fervor, starting awkward but quickly finding a rhythm of quick, deep snaps that bury him fully, your throat accommodating the sudden invasions with wet gags that he stifles with a hand over your mouth briefly. "Shh—fuck, you're tight," he hisses, pace frantic and uneven, hips jerking forward to slap his balls against your chin in sloppy cadence, the garment bags shifting under your knees from the force.
Saliva flies with each plunge, soaking his thighs and the floor, while muffled concert echoes outside mask the obscene sounds within. He angles experimentally, hitting spots that make your eyes water, his whines growing louder despite the risk: "Can't hold it—gonna cum." Tears streak your face, but he wipes them away with his tumb, driving harder until climax overwhelms him—his cock pulsing wildly as he floods your mouth with hot, copious spurts, some escaping to drip down your neck as he grinds through it, thighs quivering before he pulls out with a shuddering sigh, the high crashing beautifully.
Jeongin hauls you up immediately, his arms wrapping around you in a sweaty, breathless hug, peppering your lips and cheeks with quick, grateful kisses. "That was... wow, the best rush ever. You good? Want me to eat you out before the hyungs come?"
🏷 tag list: none yet but lmk if you wanna get tagged
blakekathryn
stormborns
pixelskylines
origamiaround