six OTPs pr0n...the final
if someone is not either dying, keysmashing, caps locking, gif-ing, or like, hating me for writing this then imma retire from writing more pr0n.
not.
“but ge, i’m ready,” zitao speaks in his usual soft voice, and baekhyun is almost giving in, almost-if only they don’t have a mini concert tomorrow.
“not now, zitao-bei,” he kisses his boyfriend’s nose. “i promise we’re going to do it soon. but not now. you’ll be sore. and tired. your fans will be sad.”
zitao is giving him the eye.
“please,” baekhyun takes zitao’s trembling hands. “it’s for your own good.”
zitao whines that he’s hard, and he understands that baekhyun-ge can’t give him a blowjob or else he will ruin his voice but i need something more than your pretty fingers!
“awww my bao bei is horny, huh?” baekhyun flicks zitao’s forehead. “i can only do magic with my fingers, zitao-yah.”
“i want something solid,” zitao pouts, “thicker,” he cups baekhyun’s crotch, “and longer.”
baekhyun bites zitao’s piercing. hard.
“ge!” zitao flushes fiery red. it’s one of his weakest points.
“well, your fingers are thicker and longer, bao bei-yah,” baekhyun smirks, “come on then, if you don’t want mine, give hyung a show.”
“fine,” zitao huffs.
“here,” baekhyun helps zitao to arrange their shared hotel room’s pillows against the headboard of the queen sized bed. zitao unbuttons his jeans and as a dedicated boyfriend baekhyun also helps him to take it off. it’s not really surprising that zitao doesn’t put on any underwear, and just for the hell of it, baekhyun blows warm air to zitao’s hard cock.
who moans helplessly.
“you’re serious,” baekhyun chuckles, shaking his head at the infinite level of cuteness. and sexiness.
zitao just sulks, being nonchalant at how baekhyun is shamelessly raping him with his hungry stare. in fact, he gives baekhyun a show, alright, by spreading his muscly but flexible legs in the air, lifting his hips up for his ignorant boyfriend to see.
“damn, zitao,” baekhyun swallows, sniffs, and reaches to touch. but two can play a game.
“gege can’t touch me,” baekhyun frowns, “gege can’t touch himself either.”
“fuck you,” baekhyun sits back, crossing his arms and legs, his nostrils are flaring due to his intense lust.
“yes, please,” zitao does a mehrong before he coats his left fingers with the water based lube, and then he folds his legs so his knees are pressed to his chest.
he’s done this before, whenever he misses his tiny boyfriend-he can reach his prostrate just fine, but to have baekhyun whispering dirtily into his ear is the most crucial missing aspect to reach a mindblowing orgasm. usually, he plays baekhyun’s part on exo’s songs while jerking off (especially the live version of baekhyun screaming the high notes).
“ge,” zitao calls out as he pushes in his index finger. baekhyun growls. “i swear if you don’t fuck me tomorrow i’m going to ask jongin to-”
“i’ll kill him first,” baekhyun snorts.
zitao huffs again because his last ammo to invite baekhyun to fuck him has failed (baekhyun did grumble his objection of zitao being a little bit too comfortable with jongin nowadays).
“gege is on his period,” zitao giggles, pushing in the finger deeper, but he feels nothing.
he’s turned off by their long and meaningless conversation.
“oh my god, byun baekhyun i hate you so much,” he glares at his softening cock, glares at baekhyun’s amused face, and stomps to the bathroom, locking it. he sits on the closed toilet lid, tears of feeling humiliated for making fun of himself are pricking at the back of his eyes. he must be appeared so pitiful in baekhyun’s point of view; begging to get fucked but his so called untamed sexual drive successfully betrays him.
“zitao-yah,” baekhyun knocks a melody. “are you mad at me?”
“...no,” zitao entwines his bare legs. “not really.”
“what?”
“NO, taurus-hyung, i’m not mad at you.”
“okay.”
that’s it?!
“why don’t you come out? i’m getting lonely.”
“no.”
“what?”
“I SAID NO,” zitao whimpers. “go away.”
“come on, zitao-yah,” baekhyun tries the doorknob. “you’re not sleeping there. come on. you’ll catch a cold.”
baekhyun can be so persistent, and zitao is too tired to argue. he grabs a towel, wraps it around his waist, and ignores baekhyun who is ready to envelop him in a hug.
“what do you want?” baekhyun sighs, arms falling to his side.
“sleep,” zitao rummages through his suitcase for his pajama bottoms. he puts it on and climbs to the bed, doesn’t wait or invite baekhyun to join him.
baekhyun changes to his sleeping attire, takes a long time with his suitcase, and when he’s next to zitao he whispers with such a low tone that zitao can’t help but to clutch at his pillow,
“you asked for it, okay? i was planning to save this for tomorrow, when we have two days off after the concert so i can watch you squirm as i control you from afar. zitao-bei you’ve been a bad, bad boy.”
“ge?” zitao moves pliantly when baekhyun turns him to his stomach.
baekhyun is uncapping the lube, and zitao can’t see what’s going on and it’s so nerve-racking and then baekhyun is pushing two fingers at once; pushespushespushes, pulling out, thrusting back in, not saying a word about his plan.
“g-ge,” zitao’s hips buck against the fingers. “ge slow down...”
baekhyun snorts, stretches his fingers before takes them off for good and zitao shouts his name, annoyed.
“oh my bao bei,” there’s a solid object being inserted to his hole, deep and deeper until it fits the whole length with its wider part rubbing in between his ass cheeks. zitao shifts, clenches to have a good guessing, and moans when its pointy end is deliciously grazing his prostrate.
a nanosecond later, it vibrates.
“ge!” zitao’s whole body jerk. his cock that’s pressed to the bed is slowly hardening. “gege stop it!”
“why? it’s massaging your prostrate, right? wait until you dance with it inside. your fangirls will go wild capturing your sex face on stage, zitao-yah, they will fantasise how you look when you fuck them in their wet dreams. ha ha. if only they know you’re mine, huang zitao, my love, let’s go to sleep.”
▲ ▼
chanyeol has to run to catch his hyung by the door, who flushes at the sight of him wearing japanese high school girl sailor uniform.
kris is closing his eyes as chanyeol tugs him inside their shared hotel room once again, giggling that he doesn’t want anyone else to see, that this is only for you, hyung, look at me.
kris reluctantly does, swallowing noisily a second later, and chanyeol just twirls around liking the breeze from the aircon flowing through the gap on his legs.
“what do you think?” chanyeol bats his eyelashes at kris’ rigidness, twisting his legs the way girls do when they pose for photos to emphasise the black knee high socks.
he pouts as kris only swallows some more, rubs his bigbigbig palms roughly over his tired face, and so chanyeol decides to let out the final part of kris wufan’s actually oh so hidden sexual fantasy,
“oppa~”
that does it.
kris growls. he grabs chanyeol by the waist to throw him to one of the twin beds, and as his eyes dart down to chanyeol’s navy blue skirt that’s lifted up due to the force; showing off chanyeol’s smooth honey thighs-an overwhelming surge of smugness is spreading throughout park chanyeol’s dignity.
kris wufan is totally turned on by me.
“oppa...” chanyeol activates his timid-high-schooler-about-to-have-sex-with-an-older-boyfriend persona. he bites his strawberry flavoured bottom lip, looking up at kris through his fringe.
“oppa i’m scared,” he sighs dramatically.
kris is swallowing for the -nth time. such self-restraint!
“ah, oppa! why am i feeling weird down here?” chanyeol runs his manicured fingers to the outline of his erection poking the material of the skirt, because they need more action, right? “oppa, please help me!” he gives a slight rub, and moans.
kris clears his throat, his voice is wavering slightly but he manages to speak in a composed tone, “it’s okay, chanyue, it’s a natural reaction. do you love me?”
chanyeol has to fight back a giggle because who the hell ever imagine kris will blurt out a cheesy, typical porny line?
“yes, oppa, i love you the most more than exo-m’s godlike duizhang! yes!” chanyeol cheers himself because kris is quick to get into the role of caring but impatient older boyfriend who can’t contain himself anymore around his cute younger girlfriend.
kris is making a sad face.
“oppa promise oppa will make you good,” he whispers, “do you get off from exo-m’s godlike duizhang fingering you, chanyue? does he satisfy you when he plays with your clit?” he’s taking off chanyeol’s white briefs down to his mid-thigh, bending chanyeol’s knees and using his thumb to tease chanyeol’s already loose entrance.
“oh, you’re so wet already,” kris smirks, pushes the thumb in, and chanyeol fists the bedsheets.
“oppa!” he stays true to his character; feigning a confusion, but excited nonetheless. “ah oppa, it’s too hot...nnngh!”
“ssh ssh, just feel,” kris leans forward to kiss chanyeol’s left cheek softly. he adds two more fingers, removing the thumb to put a pressure to chanyeol’s balls, and then he’s thrusting them in and out, slowly, like a good older boyfriend should.
at first.
“kris-oppa nggghhh oppa! oppa! oppa deeper!” chanyeol is just being a good boyfriend himself, moaning with (hopefully) a perfect impersonation of a teenage girl in heat; of kris’, well, kink.
he doesn’t mind to crossdress anyway; he’s a professional.
“oppa harder, oppa~” he, again, feigns a needy sob.
“chanyue-yah,” kris is having a hard time to breathe himself, chanyeol’s tears are making his pupils dilated like a wolf’s character in classic warner bros’ cartoon. “chanyue-yah oppa can’t hold back anymore,” the third finger is joining inside, “can oppa fuck your tight little hole now?”
“please,” chanyeol nods, and as kris fumbles with his belt he adds sultrily, “oppa touch my tits.”
kris laughs, chokes, opens his zipper, fists out his impressive erection, spits on his palm, strokes a couple of times, throws away chanyeol’s white briefs somewhere, takes the back of chanyeol’s knees and rubs the head of his cock against chanyeol’s throbbing entrance.
“ready?” he asks, pushing in an inch.
“oppa~” chanyeol helps kris to ease the cock in by raising his hips and clenches.
kris is seated to the hilt, looking like a mess on top of chanyeol; sweating, whitened lips, trembling chin-he’s holding back not to fuck chanyeol like an animal and chanyeol is determined to see more about this side of his boyfriend. most of the time, kris is too stiff and never really expresses his feeling, and it’s only thanks to his growing curiosity that he had figured it out.
almost sixty percent of kris’ porn collection has the uke crossdressing as a high school girl.
that, and then there was kris’ joking comment long long before they were an item; kris said he wasn’t totally turned off by chanyeol’s picture crossdressing in his school’s event.
big deal.
“oppa,” chanyeol struggles to free his wrists from kris’ bruising grasp. he keeps moaning as he shows his nipples.
“nnn oppa look,” he licks his lips as he pinches his hardened buds. “touch me here, oppa~”
kris complies, not slowing down his thrusts, rubbing chanyeol’s nipples lazily. chanyeol protests that he wants more, and kris raises an eyebrow before he licks chanyeol’s left nipple, swirling his tongue as he spreads chanyeol’s legs wider.
the rough material of kris’ jeans is hurting chanyeol’s ass, but it’s worth it, because this is absolutely on the list of their top three sex; kris has never been this smiley during their previous encounters and chanyeol loves it when he’s being the only reason of that smile.
“chanyue-yah, oppa is close,” kris gives chanyeol’s left nipple the last bite before he sits back on his knees, moves chanyeol’s right leg to his shoulder, and begins thrusting in and out wildly. in between their obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and chanyeol’s mewls, kris asks,
“are you close? do you want to come first?”
chanyeol only needs three strokes on his cock before his cum spurting out and staining his skirt. his muscles down there are contracting, and kris stutters,
“c-can oppa come inside?”
chanyeol smiles, because heh, if he gets pregnant then it will be over for his tragic sixteen years old alter ego, right?
“yes, oppa, please fill me completely.”
kris inhales sharply at the words, freezes, and his burst of warm come is making chanyeol’s whole body shiver anyway.
kris pulls out after a few moment, locking his eyes at his endless come gushing out of chanyeol’s hole and chanyeol throws a pillow to his head.
“you dirty old man,” he accuses affectionately, pulling kris to lie down next to him.
kris fixes the debauched sailor uniform, strokes chanyeol’s nape, and kisses him.
“you’re welcome,” chanyeol grins, biting kris’ bottom lip. “i love you, hyung.”
“i love you more,” kris hugs chanyeol’s head. “will you be okay to dance tomorrow?”
“let me think...no,” they laugh and kris kisses him again.
“i’m sorry.”
“i wanted it, so~”
“next time, will you wear your hair extension?”
“anything for you, hyung.”
“and high heels and red dress and-”
kaihun | yichen | xiuhan | sudo
not.
“but ge, i’m ready,” zitao speaks in his usual soft voice, and baekhyun is almost giving in, almost-if only they don’t have a mini concert tomorrow.
“not now, zitao-bei,” he kisses his boyfriend’s nose. “i promise we’re going to do it soon. but not now. you’ll be sore. and tired. your fans will be sad.”
zitao is giving him the eye.
“please,” baekhyun takes zitao’s trembling hands. “it’s for your own good.”
zitao whines that he’s hard, and he understands that baekhyun-ge can’t give him a blowjob or else he will ruin his voice but i need something more than your pretty fingers!
“awww my bao bei is horny, huh?” baekhyun flicks zitao’s forehead. “i can only do magic with my fingers, zitao-yah.”
“i want something solid,” zitao pouts, “thicker,” he cups baekhyun’s crotch, “and longer.”
baekhyun bites zitao’s piercing. hard.
“ge!” zitao flushes fiery red. it’s one of his weakest points.
“well, your fingers are thicker and longer, bao bei-yah,” baekhyun smirks, “come on then, if you don’t want mine, give hyung a show.”
“fine,” zitao huffs.
“here,” baekhyun helps zitao to arrange their shared hotel room’s pillows against the headboard of the queen sized bed. zitao unbuttons his jeans and as a dedicated boyfriend baekhyun also helps him to take it off. it’s not really surprising that zitao doesn’t put on any underwear, and just for the hell of it, baekhyun blows warm air to zitao’s hard cock.
who moans helplessly.
“you’re serious,” baekhyun chuckles, shaking his head at the infinite level of cuteness. and sexiness.
zitao just sulks, being nonchalant at how baekhyun is shamelessly raping him with his hungry stare. in fact, he gives baekhyun a show, alright, by spreading his muscly but flexible legs in the air, lifting his hips up for his ignorant boyfriend to see.
“damn, zitao,” baekhyun swallows, sniffs, and reaches to touch. but two can play a game.
“gege can’t touch me,” baekhyun frowns, “gege can’t touch himself either.”
“fuck you,” baekhyun sits back, crossing his arms and legs, his nostrils are flaring due to his intense lust.
“yes, please,” zitao does a mehrong before he coats his left fingers with the water based lube, and then he folds his legs so his knees are pressed to his chest.
he’s done this before, whenever he misses his tiny boyfriend-he can reach his prostrate just fine, but to have baekhyun whispering dirtily into his ear is the most crucial missing aspect to reach a mindblowing orgasm. usually, he plays baekhyun’s part on exo’s songs while jerking off (especially the live version of baekhyun screaming the high notes).
“ge,” zitao calls out as he pushes in his index finger. baekhyun growls. “i swear if you don’t fuck me tomorrow i’m going to ask jongin to-”
“i’ll kill him first,” baekhyun snorts.
zitao huffs again because his last ammo to invite baekhyun to fuck him has failed (baekhyun did grumble his objection of zitao being a little bit too comfortable with jongin nowadays).
“gege is on his period,” zitao giggles, pushing in the finger deeper, but he feels nothing.
he’s turned off by their long and meaningless conversation.
“oh my god, byun baekhyun i hate you so much,” he glares at his softening cock, glares at baekhyun’s amused face, and stomps to the bathroom, locking it. he sits on the closed toilet lid, tears of feeling humiliated for making fun of himself are pricking at the back of his eyes. he must be appeared so pitiful in baekhyun’s point of view; begging to get fucked but his so called untamed sexual drive successfully betrays him.
“zitao-yah,” baekhyun knocks a melody. “are you mad at me?”
“...no,” zitao entwines his bare legs. “not really.”
“what?”
“NO, taurus-hyung, i’m not mad at you.”
“okay.”
that’s it?!
“why don’t you come out? i’m getting lonely.”
“no.”
“what?”
“I SAID NO,” zitao whimpers. “go away.”
“come on, zitao-yah,” baekhyun tries the doorknob. “you’re not sleeping there. come on. you’ll catch a cold.”
baekhyun can be so persistent, and zitao is too tired to argue. he grabs a towel, wraps it around his waist, and ignores baekhyun who is ready to envelop him in a hug.
“what do you want?” baekhyun sighs, arms falling to his side.
“sleep,” zitao rummages through his suitcase for his pajama bottoms. he puts it on and climbs to the bed, doesn’t wait or invite baekhyun to join him.
baekhyun changes to his sleeping attire, takes a long time with his suitcase, and when he’s next to zitao he whispers with such a low tone that zitao can’t help but to clutch at his pillow,
“you asked for it, okay? i was planning to save this for tomorrow, when we have two days off after the concert so i can watch you squirm as i control you from afar. zitao-bei you’ve been a bad, bad boy.”
“ge?” zitao moves pliantly when baekhyun turns him to his stomach.
baekhyun is uncapping the lube, and zitao can’t see what’s going on and it’s so nerve-racking and then baekhyun is pushing two fingers at once; pushespushespushes, pulling out, thrusting back in, not saying a word about his plan.
“g-ge,” zitao’s hips buck against the fingers. “ge slow down...”
baekhyun snorts, stretches his fingers before takes them off for good and zitao shouts his name, annoyed.
“oh my bao bei,” there’s a solid object being inserted to his hole, deep and deeper until it fits the whole length with its wider part rubbing in between his ass cheeks. zitao shifts, clenches to have a good guessing, and moans when its pointy end is deliciously grazing his prostrate.
a nanosecond later, it vibrates.
“ge!” zitao’s whole body jerk. his cock that’s pressed to the bed is slowly hardening. “gege stop it!”
“why? it’s massaging your prostrate, right? wait until you dance with it inside. your fangirls will go wild capturing your sex face on stage, zitao-yah, they will fantasise how you look when you fuck them in their wet dreams. ha ha. if only they know you’re mine, huang zitao, my love, let’s go to sleep.”
▲ ▼
chanyeol has to run to catch his hyung by the door, who flushes at the sight of him wearing japanese high school girl sailor uniform.
kris is closing his eyes as chanyeol tugs him inside their shared hotel room once again, giggling that he doesn’t want anyone else to see, that this is only for you, hyung, look at me.
kris reluctantly does, swallowing noisily a second later, and chanyeol just twirls around liking the breeze from the aircon flowing through the gap on his legs.
“what do you think?” chanyeol bats his eyelashes at kris’ rigidness, twisting his legs the way girls do when they pose for photos to emphasise the black knee high socks.
he pouts as kris only swallows some more, rubs his bigbigbig palms roughly over his tired face, and so chanyeol decides to let out the final part of kris wufan’s actually oh so hidden sexual fantasy,
“oppa~”
that does it.
kris growls. he grabs chanyeol by the waist to throw him to one of the twin beds, and as his eyes dart down to chanyeol’s navy blue skirt that’s lifted up due to the force; showing off chanyeol’s smooth honey thighs-an overwhelming surge of smugness is spreading throughout park chanyeol’s dignity.
kris wufan is totally turned on by me.
“oppa...” chanyeol activates his timid-high-schooler-about-to-have-sex-with-an-older-boyfriend persona. he bites his strawberry flavoured bottom lip, looking up at kris through his fringe.
“oppa i’m scared,” he sighs dramatically.
kris is swallowing for the -nth time. such self-restraint!
“ah, oppa! why am i feeling weird down here?” chanyeol runs his manicured fingers to the outline of his erection poking the material of the skirt, because they need more action, right? “oppa, please help me!” he gives a slight rub, and moans.
kris clears his throat, his voice is wavering slightly but he manages to speak in a composed tone, “it’s okay, chanyue, it’s a natural reaction. do you love me?”
chanyeol has to fight back a giggle because who the hell ever imagine kris will blurt out a cheesy, typical porny line?
“yes, oppa, i love you the most more than exo-m’s godlike duizhang! yes!” chanyeol cheers himself because kris is quick to get into the role of caring but impatient older boyfriend who can’t contain himself anymore around his cute younger girlfriend.
kris is making a sad face.
“oppa promise oppa will make you good,” he whispers, “do you get off from exo-m’s godlike duizhang fingering you, chanyue? does he satisfy you when he plays with your clit?” he’s taking off chanyeol’s white briefs down to his mid-thigh, bending chanyeol’s knees and using his thumb to tease chanyeol’s already loose entrance.
“oh, you’re so wet already,” kris smirks, pushes the thumb in, and chanyeol fists the bedsheets.
“oppa!” he stays true to his character; feigning a confusion, but excited nonetheless. “ah oppa, it’s too hot...nnngh!”
“ssh ssh, just feel,” kris leans forward to kiss chanyeol’s left cheek softly. he adds two more fingers, removing the thumb to put a pressure to chanyeol’s balls, and then he’s thrusting them in and out, slowly, like a good older boyfriend should.
at first.
“kris-oppa nggghhh oppa! oppa! oppa deeper!” chanyeol is just being a good boyfriend himself, moaning with (hopefully) a perfect impersonation of a teenage girl in heat; of kris’, well, kink.
he doesn’t mind to crossdress anyway; he’s a professional.
“oppa harder, oppa~” he, again, feigns a needy sob.
“chanyue-yah,” kris is having a hard time to breathe himself, chanyeol’s tears are making his pupils dilated like a wolf’s character in classic warner bros’ cartoon. “chanyue-yah oppa can’t hold back anymore,” the third finger is joining inside, “can oppa fuck your tight little hole now?”
“please,” chanyeol nods, and as kris fumbles with his belt he adds sultrily, “oppa touch my tits.”
kris laughs, chokes, opens his zipper, fists out his impressive erection, spits on his palm, strokes a couple of times, throws away chanyeol’s white briefs somewhere, takes the back of chanyeol’s knees and rubs the head of his cock against chanyeol’s throbbing entrance.
“ready?” he asks, pushing in an inch.
“oppa~” chanyeol helps kris to ease the cock in by raising his hips and clenches.
kris is seated to the hilt, looking like a mess on top of chanyeol; sweating, whitened lips, trembling chin-he’s holding back not to fuck chanyeol like an animal and chanyeol is determined to see more about this side of his boyfriend. most of the time, kris is too stiff and never really expresses his feeling, and it’s only thanks to his growing curiosity that he had figured it out.
almost sixty percent of kris’ porn collection has the uke crossdressing as a high school girl.
that, and then there was kris’ joking comment long long before they were an item; kris said he wasn’t totally turned off by chanyeol’s picture crossdressing in his school’s event.
big deal.
“oppa,” chanyeol struggles to free his wrists from kris’ bruising grasp. he keeps moaning as he shows his nipples.
“nnn oppa look,” he licks his lips as he pinches his hardened buds. “touch me here, oppa~”
kris complies, not slowing down his thrusts, rubbing chanyeol’s nipples lazily. chanyeol protests that he wants more, and kris raises an eyebrow before he licks chanyeol’s left nipple, swirling his tongue as he spreads chanyeol’s legs wider.
the rough material of kris’ jeans is hurting chanyeol’s ass, but it’s worth it, because this is absolutely on the list of their top three sex; kris has never been this smiley during their previous encounters and chanyeol loves it when he’s being the only reason of that smile.
“chanyue-yah, oppa is close,” kris gives chanyeol’s left nipple the last bite before he sits back on his knees, moves chanyeol’s right leg to his shoulder, and begins thrusting in and out wildly. in between their obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and chanyeol’s mewls, kris asks,
“are you close? do you want to come first?”
chanyeol only needs three strokes on his cock before his cum spurting out and staining his skirt. his muscles down there are contracting, and kris stutters,
“c-can oppa come inside?”
chanyeol smiles, because heh, if he gets pregnant then it will be over for his tragic sixteen years old alter ego, right?
“yes, oppa, please fill me completely.”
kris inhales sharply at the words, freezes, and his burst of warm come is making chanyeol’s whole body shiver anyway.
kris pulls out after a few moment, locking his eyes at his endless come gushing out of chanyeol’s hole and chanyeol throws a pillow to his head.
“you dirty old man,” he accuses affectionately, pulling kris to lie down next to him.
kris fixes the debauched sailor uniform, strokes chanyeol’s nape, and kisses him.
“you’re welcome,” chanyeol grins, biting kris’ bottom lip. “i love you, hyung.”
“i love you more,” kris hugs chanyeol’s head. “will you be okay to dance tomorrow?”
“let me think...no,” they laugh and kris kisses him again.
“i’m sorry.”
“i wanted it, so~”
“next time, will you wear your hair extension?”
“anything for you, hyung.”
“and high heels and red dress and-”
kaihun | yichen | xiuhan | sudo