🪷

and the first time he ever found out about your little infatuation, he seemed to have grown a little more comfortable with roughing it up a little.

“oh god… oh baby. fuck, you feel so good.” on your stomach, face pressed into the sheets, san’s face nudged in the tight space where your neck meets your shoulder. his arms caged either side of your head, resting his forearms next to your ears.

his chest was glued to your back, your spine digging into his stomach. bare and hot and wet, your bodies pressed against each other without an inch of space to speak for. your entire body shivered when he forced himself deeper into you, his curved, thick cock splitting your cunt open.

this position had him so deep, so invasive, so full. his hips rolled against the flesh of your ass, san’s voice dipping low in needy moans when you squeezed around him while he pulled his hips back, listening to the slick sound your pussy made, trying to keep him inside.

“pussy’s so warm today, baby.” he lets his mouth fall open against the shell of your ear, panting and groaning to make your brain melt. “making me feel so fucking crazy, you make me feel crazy, pretty.”

you forced your head out of the pillow when you felt his thrusts slow to a deep grind, pulling a ragged whine from your mouth. you pried your eyes open to watch as his arms moved around your head.

“turn, look at us.” he kisses below your ear, and drags his tongue up the side of your cheek. his right arm reaches and grabs his phone from the corner of the bed, holding it tight in his hand and scrolling and pressing buttons.

you forget he keeps a tall mirror against his bedroom wall, right next to the end of his bed. you can see the top halves of your melded bodies. his big, broad shoulders shadow your littler form under him. his soft, flushed face meeting your eyes in the reflection, his big, meaty arms flexing and twitching around your head every time he moved.

you watch to try and see what he was doing, and he punishes your nosiness with a sharp, deep thrust that makes your calf lock up.

“mind your business, babydoll.” he grumbles, then you feel it. his left arm curls around the front of your throat, tight. the muscles twitch and contract over your neck, just enough to limit your breathing. snug, warm and secure around the front of your throat.

he feels you tighten around his cock, and it makes his skin prickle. “ooh, fuck…” he groans and you feel his voice vibrate against your back. you forced your eyes up and you can see his phone recording your reflection in the mirror. catching the fucked out look on your face, his thick arm wrapped around your throat in an owning headlock.

his mouth spreads into a sly grin when your eyes roll when he pulls back his hips and then sinks his cock back into you so slowly, so smoothly, your legs jerk under him to try and escape the feeling.

“my soft little slut…” san leans down to whisper in your ear, the flash of his camera moving with each thrust. he licks the tears that pool at the corner of your eyes before he drags his head back up to watch you both in the mirror.

“look at you go, baby.” he praises around a heated smile. “drooling all over my arm like some kind of puppy. does that feel good? hm?”

you whimper out an incoherent agreement, and he giggles softly, littering the nape of your neck with soft kisses. he adjusts his hips to drag against that deeper, sweeter spot, that makes you still and lightly sink your teeth into his arm.

he keeps that meaner pace, deep heavy strokes in your guts that you can do nothing but lie under his body and take. his arm around your neck made clouds swim around in your brain. he tightens the hold, and you squeal loudly, barely catching the way he zooms in with his phone to better catch the pretty look on your face.

your cheeks squished by his muscles, your eyes desperate and heavy-lidded. he thought you looked so cute, and who would’ve thought that all he had to do to get you this needy was to put you in a headlock.

san fucks you greedily, the curve of him perfectly hitting that spot that turned your mind off. his voice egged you on, his low moans, and his pretty heavy breaths. groaning ’mhms’ of approval with every thrust into you as if he was grading the feel of your cunt around him. with every stroke, you only seemed to get even wetter, and the proof was the sticky web of your slick that clung to his base.

“mm, i love fucking my baby, slow… and stupid.” he attaches his lips to the pulse point on your neck, sucking and running his tongue over the sensitive spot of skin. “jus wanna fuck you so deep it hurts.”

he’s in your ear, talking to you and only you. all the while his phone catches every moment, every thrust and every moan.

his lower stomach repeatedly brushes against your back, his cock stirring up your insides at the most, torturous and delicate pace. the slow smack of flesh, the sticky hollow sound of your cunt swallowing all of him.

you feel his knees brace against either side of your hips again, adjusting his posture a little. his arm around your throat tightens to your near limit, his head nudges against your neck, his lips whispering against your cheek.

this way he uses your neck as leverage to anchor is body to allow him to fuck his cock into you a little faster, a little rougher.

“yeah, baby, yeah. take all of me. all of me.” san’s voice drops into a breathy purr, pressing his lips directly against your ear, the soft skin tickling you. “givin this pussy a workout hm?”

you groan and kick your feet, and he laughs at you as hand from the arm he’s got your neck trapped in buries itself in your tangled hair and yanks your head to the side so you’re fully facing the mirror, your ear resting below his jaw.

“you like to be lazy. you like to lie here— fuck… lie here and take dick, helpless and limp. let sannie do all the work huh, princess? let this pussy do all the work for you?”

he turns his head and your eyes catch in the mirror. his eyes are lidded, competent and heated. yours are foggy, tear-glazed, spent. he smiles at your expression and growls under his breath when you clench around his dick again.

his fingers scrape against your scalp with every heavy stroke of his hips, his pretty grunts and moans making your belly twist into swirls.

your hands grasp at the sheets, your cries coming out choked and breathy then more san fucked you, and he seemingly forgot that you needed to breathe until you tapped on his bicep to tell him to let up.

he does immediately, loosening the hold on your throat. you gasp and choke, but he doesn’t stop moving his hips, fucking you slow and deep while you regain your breath.

“aww, ‘m sorry babydoll.” he kisses your temple and you could feel him giggle against your skin. his voice lowers to that brain ticking whisper and you feel your air stolen from you again.

“bet you would’ve looked so pretty passed out on my cock.” he finally sets down his phone and takes his now free hand and trails it down your body, running along the side of your waist, his hips never stopping that deep, languid push and pull.

“looking all soft and sleepy.” his hand snakes between your body and the bed and finds your clit with his coarse fingertips. you gasp and squirm under him, your body shaking as a plea for mercy. san only laughs, circling upwards against the sensitive nerves while he splits your pussy open, over and over and over again.

“think i could still make you cum in your sleep princess?” he whispers against your throat and you feel as his arm tightens its hold around your throat once again. you feel the bed start to shake and your cunt start to burn with pleasure as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, filling you long and deep at just the right angle.

“mmhm, soak my cock baby.” he growls under a moan, letting his tongue fall from his mouth and tasting the flushed skin on your throat. “make it smell like you.”

he bites his bottom lip and his eyebrows furrow, his cock pounding into you so full he just might had been close to fucking your cervix.

his fingers on your clit continue to move at that dragging, spherical pattern that helps that pressure build slowly. stroke my stroke, praise by praise. you melt under his body while he uses you as he sees fit. your pussy sucks him in everytime he draws back, your pretty little moans make san’s head spin.

“gonna fuck myself to that video everynight while im on tour.” he promises against your skin, your orgasm dangerously close to sweeping you onto the floor. he rolls his hips with every thrust, forcing his fat tip to press against your gspot.

“eee..every n-night..?” you whimper deliriously, his cock effectively having cut off all cognitive function, a stupid smile spread across your face.

he laughs and kisses your shoulder as he rolls his hips a little harder. “mhm, every night baby. i'll send you some videos so this pussy-” he thrusts hard this time, as if acknowledging her himself. “-doesn't miss me too much. want you to remember how good i make you feel while i'm gone.”

you shake violently when his tip nudges that spot just right, and right at that moment you cum on the spot. your limbs jerk and twitch and once san’s felt you cumming he eases his hips into a faster rut, pounding your pussy through your orgasm, fucking you through it.

“there we go, there we go. let it take you baby, keep cumming, keep cumming for me.” he pinches your clit and teases it with gentle brushes while he mounts you on his mattress.

his arm is covered in your drool, the red indentations of your bite marks inflamed on his skin. san looks back at you in the mirror, and you’re too out of it to notice as he pulls out his phone again and starts to record the reflection.

your eyes are shut and your brows are furrowed in bliss, lips parted in pathetic whines, your cheek resting against his bicep. he keeps his eyes on the mirror as your face twists in overstimulation when he starts to grind his cock deep into you.

his muscles flex, and he can feel the strain in his wrist from continually holding the camera up to capture you two. your shoulder twitches every time he bottoms out into your pussy, and your eyelids flutter every time he presses his palm against your lower stomach. he catches every change in expression, every twitch of your body, every lilt in your moans.

he always misses you so bad when hes away, so he always makes sure he fucks you so unbelievably well that you could probably do without him for at least a few days.

until you’re sore, or your stomach burns, or you physically can’t cum anymore. and he’ll be so methodic, so thorough, so gentle. anything to get you satiated for the first few days in his absence.

he's gotta work you out of his system somehow anyway, or else he'll be a horny, delirious wreck on tour.

the videos help with his withdrawal symptoms.

You nod and kiss his cheek before sitting back up but unfortunately for Jeongin, his eyes tell you everything. The lingering frustration from whatever happened today still sits heavy in his chest. You can practically feel how much he needed some sort of release. He stares up at you curiously as you make no move to get off of him and right as he’s about to ask what’s wrong you ask him,

“What if I gave you a hand job?”

His hips buck up subconsciously at the suggestion and waste no time frantically nodding his head, licking his lips as you lift off of him.

“Sit up and take off your shirt.” You tell him.

He does as told and turns his head to watch you situate yourself behind him. Once you have your legs laying on either side of him you begin to massage his shoulders. A hiss leaves his lips as you knead out a particularly tight knot but you can feel his body slowly relaxing the longer you dig into it. You take your time massaging all the way down his back, loving the sounds it’s pulling from the gorgeous man sitting between your legs. You can see him getting antsy so you tug his shoulder and motion for him to lay back.

Instantly you attach your mouth onto his neck and trail slow, sensual kisses up to his cheek, making sure to kiss every mole and freckle on the way. Jeongin tilts his head back to rest on your shoulder, giving you more access as you go back down to kiss his shoulders. He lets out a breathy moan when your thumbs graze his nipples while sucking gently on the sensitive spot just below his adams apple.

The tips of his fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as you suck harder, encouraging you to pinch at the hardened nubs between your fingers to get another moan out of him. He bucks his hips up at the dull pain and reaches one of his hands to palm his throbbing cock straining his boxers and shorts. You quickly remove it and place his hand back on your thigh.

You rub your hand up and down his restrained cock instead, giving a gentle test squeeze to the base which makes Jeongin's breath catch in his throat.

The moans are constant after a few minutes and a little wet patch is now visible at the top of his shorts, so you figure it’s a good time to finally get rid of the restraining cloth. You whisper in his ear to lift his hips and when he does you, both help to take the remaining clothing off of him.

Jeongin presses himself snug against your chest when you finally touch him bare. His fingers tighten as you move your hand up and down slowly and adding extra pressure when you reach his tip.

"Fuck, baby. A little faster please." He breathes out.

You lean down and kiss his shoulder as your hand quickens along his cock. His moans fuel the fire starting to make its way up your body. He is fully relaxed against you now. Hands gripping your thighs so tight you know it'll leave marks, not that you minded though. You loved seeing the proof that what you were doing made your lover feel good.

"You sound really pretty honey." You whisper and his hips buck into your hand.

As his hips continue to move you bring your legs to rest over his, spreading his legs further apart. Making it harder for him to move on his own. You can't help the smile you press into his skin at his whine.

You slow your hand down. Focusing your movements on the tip now. Your thumb swiping along the underside causes Jeongin to grip the sheets besides you.

He takes your free hand and brings it up to his mouth. Placing your middle and ringer finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them. You kiss along his jaw and down the side on his neck as you finally fully stroke him again.

"Holy shit." Jeongin mumbles around your fingers.

His hands now grip the sides of your thighs as his orgasm approaches. You release your legs from his and grin when he fully takes control. Bucking his hips into your hand at a pace that was mind numbingly pleasurable. The sounds he makes are only egging you on to stroke him faster. Which is exactly what you do. When his hips grind down you take your fingers from his mouth and slide them over his tip for extra stimulation.

"Oh my God baby. Keep doing that. It feels so good holy shit."

You do as told.

Jeongins breath hitches in a certain way that tells you he's about to cum. To finally send him over the edge, you kiss under his ear then trail down to the sensitive area just above the curve of his shoulder. You suck gently and squeeze at his base. Your fingers still gliding along his tip.

He chants your name a few times then raspy, deep moans are let out after. You can feel his cum sliding down your fingers as you continue to slowly stroke him. Prolonging his pleasure as much as possible.

You kiss his cheek a few times, "you did so good love. Do you feel better?" Your words are slightly muffled as you continue to kiss his face.

Jeongin rubs his hands up and down your thighs, head completely empty as it rests on your shoulder. He basks in your affection for a few seconds longer before answering.

"I don't know enough words in the world to describe how good you just made me feel." He squeezes your legs once before carefully moving to hover over you.

He rests his hands along your jaw. Moving his thumbs to trace along the underside. You watch with loving eyes as he drinks you in.

You're surprised when he suddenly gets off the bed, grabbing his clothes that were thrown all across the bed and goes into the closet. He comes out dressed in new lounge shorts and no shirt and then goes into the bathroom. Just as you're about to move he comes out with a small washcloth and tells you not to move a muscle. With furrowed brows and a slight frown, you watch as Jeongin takes your hands gently and drags the cool, wet cloth across them to get all of his release off.

Then, after setting that aside on his nightstand, he brings himself down onto his stomach. His head coming down to kiss your knee.

"Oh Jeongin, I don't —" He puts your mind at ease instantly.

"I know baby. I just want to kiss the bruises."

You lean back against the pillows in relief and nod when you catch him staring at you still. He kisses your knee again. A hand coming to caress the side of your left thigh. He moves up to the first area he knows his grip was extra tight on and kisses it so softly at first you almost didn't feel it.

"I'm sorry for bruising you," his lips press harder against your skin.

You run your hand through his hair to get him to look at you again, "you know I like it." He laughs against your warm skin.

"This is true."

Jeongin continues his soft kisses. Eventually reaching the last one and giving it a little more attention than the others. His excuse being that it was the worst one and needed 'extra healing'. When he deems the bruise healed enough for now, he situates himself as close to you as possible. Arm draped over your stomach as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

"Thank you for doing that," he whispers," today was so rough and it was really nice to not have to think about anything and just feel good."

You bring your hand up to cup his face, causing him to look up at you.

"I'll always be here for you Innie. I don't care what we do as long as you don't keep it bottled in. You should always feel good."

He smiles at your words, biting his lip slightly in thought.

"Was that okay for you? I know you don't usually take control like that. Was it too much?" He voices out while rubbing his thumb across the skin of your stomach.

You kiss him deeply. Pouring your emotions into it and smiling when he reciprocates with no hesitation. Your fingers glide into his hair, pulling him even closer, if that was even possible.

"It was perfect."

Another kiss is planted onto his lips before you let out an unexpected yawn. The two of you laugh and Jeongin kisses your cheek.

"Let's get you to bed baby. You've done so well today too. You deserve some beauty sleep."

You don't say anything but kiss him briefly before switching the roles and snuggle into his chest. Your brain calms down from the high and your eyes droop closed after a few minutes of listening to Jeongins steady heartbeat and dreamland takes you away before you could even realize.

//

✩*ೃ.⋆ || skz masterlist, all masterlists

You padded softly down the basement stairs of the house you shared with Mingyu, the cool wooden steps familiar under your bare feet. The air grew warmer as you descended, carrying the faint scent of clean sweat and the metallic tang of iron weights. It was late afternoon, sunlight filtering through the small high windows in narrow golden beams that cut across the home gym Mingyu had set up with so much pride.

He had turned one of the larger basement rooms into his personal sanctuary shortly after you two moved in together: mirrors lining one wall, a rack of neatly organized dumbbells and plates, a treadmill in the corner and the centerpiece: the adjustable weight bench with its sturdy black padding and chrome frame. Mingyu called it his "little kingdom" and on most days, it was filled with the rhythmic clank of metal and his occasional triumphant grunts.

Today, though, the sounds were different.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, tilting your head. Instead of the steady rhythm of reps, you heard a heavy sigh, followed by the dull thud of a barbell being racked with more force than necessary. Then silence, broken only by his low muttering. "...come on, what the hell..."

Your heart tugged a little. Mingyu had been training hard this week, preparing for a upcoming photoshoot and some dance practices that required him to stay in peak condition. He was always disciplined, but he was also kind to himself on most off days. Something felt off today.

You stepped into the room quietly, your oversized t-shirt (one of his, of course) brushing against your thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, elbows on his knees, head hanging low so that his damp dark hair fell forward, hiding his eyes. His grey tank top clung to his broad chest and shoulders, darkened with sweat along the collar and under his arms. The veins in his forearms stood out prominently from the effort he’d already put in. His black shorts rode up slightly on his thighs and even in frustration, the sight of him made warmth bloom in your belly.

But right now, it wasn’t desire that hit you first, it was concern.

"Mingyu?" you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snapped up. For a split second, his handsome face brightened at the sight of you, those sharp eyes softening, the corners of his lips twitching toward a smile. Then the frustration settled back in, clouding his expression like a shadow.

"Hey, baby" he said, voice a little rough from exertion. He tried to sound casual, wiping his face with the small towel draped over his shoulder. "Didn’t hear you come down."

You crossed the room, the rubber mats cool and springy under your feet. Stopping in front of him, you reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was warm, flushed from the workout.

"I brought you some water and a protein shake" you said, holding up the bottle and shaker you’d prepared upstairs. "Figured you might be getting thirsty after... how long have you been down here?"

He took the water with a grateful nod but didn’t open it right away. Instead, he set it on the floor beside the bench. "Couple hours. Lost track."

You glanced at the barbell still loaded on the rack above the bench. The plates looked heavier than what he usually warmed up with on chest day. From the way the bench was adjusted and the sweat soaking through his shirt, he’d clearly been pushing hard.

"Everything okay?" you asked gently, stepping between his spread knees so you could cup his face with both hands. Your thumbs stroked along his sharp jawline. "You sound... frustrated."

Mingyu let out a short, humorless laugh and leaned into your touch for a moment before pulling back slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back.

"I can’t lift for shit today" he admitted, voice low and edged with annoyance. "Bench press, my usual working weight feels like it’s doubled. I barely got through three reps without my form going to hell. Shoulders are burning already, and my chest just... won’t activate right. It’s like my body decided to betray me out of nowhere."

You frowned, glancing at the bar again. Mingyu was incredibly strong; he prided himself on his consistency. He followed a solid five-day split, hitting chest, back, shoulders, arms and legs with focused intensity. Off days happened, but he rarely let them rattle him this much.

"Maybe it’s just an off day" you offered, keeping your tone light and soothing. You knew how he could get when his perfectionist side kicked in. "You’ve been going hard all week. The photoshoot prep, those extra dance rehearsals... your body might just need a break."

He shook his head, jaw tightening. "I don’t have time for off days. The shoot is in ten days. I need to look sharp, defined, strong. Not like I slacked off." His gaze dropped to his own arms, flexing one unconsciously as if testing it. The muscle popped impressively, but he scowled anyway. "Feels weak. Like I’m back to rookie levels or something. Pathetic."

The self-criticism in his voice made your chest ache. This was classic Mingyu, the guy who was confident and playful most of the time, the one who could light up any room with his bright smile and easy laughter, but who also held himself to impossibly high standards. He was husband material through and through: attentive, protective, always making sure you were taken care of. But when it came to himself, especially his body and performance, he could be his own harshest critic.

You slid your hands down to his shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. "Hey. Look at me."

He did, reluctantly. Those warm brown eyes met yours, frustration in them alongside a hint of vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else.

"You are not weak" you said firmly, squeezing his delts. "You’re human. Even Mingyu Kim gets tired sometimes. Remember last month when you pulled that muscle during leg day and still tried to power through? You took two rest days and came back stronger. This is the same thing."

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. The contact was warm and grounding. "I know. Logically, I know. But it pisses me off. I was supposed to hit a new PR on incline today. Instead, I’m racking the bar like a beginner after six reps. My mind’s in it, but the muscles just aren’t cooperating."

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He hummed softly at the touch, some of the tension easing from his broad frame. Being this close, you could smell his familiar scent: clean sweat mixed with the faint woody cologne he always wore, even to the gym.

"Want me to spot you on the next set?" you offered, though you both knew you couldn’t actually handle his heavy loads. It was more about the gesture.

Mingyu chuckled against your shirt, the sound vibrating through you. "You’d get crushed, baby. Cute offer, though."

You smiled and tilted his chin up again. "Then talk to me. What’s really bothering you? Is it just the weights, or is there more?"

He was quiet for a long moment, thumbs absently tracing circles on the backs of your thighs where his hands had settled. "It’s stupid. The company’s been riding everyone about visuals lately. With the comeback preparations overlapping with solo schedules... I just want to feel in control, you know? Like I can push my body and it listens. Today it’s not. Makes me feel... off. Like I’m letting myself down."

Your heart swelled with affection. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to the tip of his nose and finally a lingering one on his lips. He kissed you back gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

"You’re not letting anyone down" you whispered against his mouth. "Least of all me. I love you exactly like this: sweaty, frustrated and still the strongest, kindest man I know."

Mingyu’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile at that. "You always know what to say." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist so you were half-sitting on one of his thighs. The muscle flexed beneath you, solid and warm. "Thanks for coming down. I was just sitting here sulking like an idiot."

"Not an idiot" you corrected, nuzzling into his neck. "Just my big, dramatic boyfriend who thinks the world ends if he can’t bench 130 kilos today."

He laughed properly then, the rich sound filling the gym and chasing away the last of the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, it was 135 last month. Don’t sell me short."

You grinned, happy to see the spark return to his eyes. For the next twenty minutes, you stayed with him, handing him lighter weights when he decided to switch to accessory work, counting reps out loud in an exaggerated cheerleader voice that made him roll his eyes and laugh, and stealing kisses between sets. He did some lighter dumbbell presses, focusing on form and mind-muscle connection rather than ego-lifting. You could see the frustration gradually melting as he moved, your presence a steady anchor.

At one point, he pulled you onto his lap fully while he rested between sets, his large hands splaying across your back under the t-shirt. "You’re too good to me" he murmured, voice softer now. "I don’t deserve how patient you are when I get like this."

"You deserve everything" you replied, tracing the line of his collarbone with a fingertip. "And I love taking care of you. Even when you’re being a grumpy gym rat."

He squeezed your hips playfully. "Careful. Calling me grumpy might get you in trouble later."

The teasing glint in his eye sent a little thrill through you, but you kept things light for now.

Eventually, Mingyu stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. His tank top rode up, revealing the defined V of his hips and the trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts. You tried not to stare too obviously.

"Think I’m done for today" he announced, wiping down the bench with a spray and cloth. "No point forcing it and risking injury. Tomorrow’s a new day."

You nodded approvingly, helping him rack the lighter plates. "Smart choice. How about we head upstairs? I’ll make you that chicken breast you like and we can watch something dumb on TV."

Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into a full hug this time. His body enveloped yours completely: tall, broad and radiating heat. "Sounds perfect. But first..." He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss than before. It started sweet but lingered, his tongue brushing yours just enough to promise more. When he pulled back, his voice had dropped an octave. "Thanks for grounding me, baby. Really."

You smiled up at him, heart full. "Always."

You didn’t even make it up the stairs.

Mingyu’s arm was still slung around your shoulders when he suddenly stopped at the threshold of the gym, turning you gently but firmly back toward the room. The overhead lights hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the mirrors and equipment. His body heat radiated against your side and when you looked up at him, the frustration that had clouded his face earlier had shifted into something darker, hungrier.

"Actually" he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges "I’m not ready to go upstairs yet."

Before you could ask why, his large hand cupped the back of your neck and he pulled you into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

It wasn’t the soft, comforting press of lips from earlier. This kiss was deep, demanding, laced with all the pent-up energy he hadn’t been able to burn off with iron. His mouth moved against yours with purpose, tongue sliding in to taste you as if he needed this more than oxygen. You gasped softly into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his damp tank top, fingers curling into the fabric stretched tight over his chest.

Mingyu groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. He walked you backward without breaking the kiss until your back met the cool mirrored wall. The contrast of cold glass against your heated skin made you shiver. His body pressed flush against yours, solid, towering, every hard-earned muscle molded to your softer curves.

"Fuck, baby" he breathed against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to speak. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark. "You coming down here, being all sweet and patient with me… it’s driving me crazy in a different way now."

Your heart raced. You could feel the shift in him, the frustration from his failed lifts transforming into raw, restless need. His hands roamed down your sides, slipping under the hem of his oversized top you wore, palms hot against your bare waist.

"Mingyu…" you whispered, but it came out more like a plea.

He kissed you again, harder this time, one thigh sliding between your legs to press up against your core. The thick muscle flexed deliberately and even through the thin fabric of your panties, the pressure sent sparks shooting up your spine. You moaned softly, grinding down instinctively.

"That’s it" he murmured, lips trailing along your jaw to your ear. "Let me hear you. Been thinking about this since you walked in looking so fucking cute in my shirt."

His words sent heat flooding between your thighs. You tilted your head to give him better access and he took full advantage, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear before nipping it gently. One of his hands slid higher under your shirt, cupping your breast and thumbing over your nipple until it pebbled under his touch. The other hand gripped your hip, guiding your movements as you rocked against his thigh.

The gym felt smaller suddenly, the air thicker. The scent of his sweat mixed with the faint smell of rubber mats and metal. In the mirror beside you, you caught glimpses of the two of you: his broad back flexing, your legs parted around his thigh, his dark hair messy from your fingers.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to tug your shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. You stood in just your panties now, the cool air kissing your skin. His eyes raked over you hungrily, pupils blown wide.

"God, you’re beautiful" he said, voice reverent even as his hands were anything but gentle. He palmed both breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples between his fingers until you whimpered. "All mine."

You reached for his tank top, yanking it upward. He helped you, peeling it off and revealing the glistening expanse of his torso: defined pecs, ridged abs, the deep cuts of his obliques leading down to the waistband of his shorts. Sweat still clung to his skin, making every muscle shine under the lights. Even frustrated with his workout, he looked like a god.

Your hands explored him greedily, tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. When your fingers dipped lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his shorts, he hissed through his teeth.

"Careful" he warned, though his hips bucked forward into your touch. "I’m already on edge."

"Good" you whispered, squeezing him through the fabric. "Let it out. Use me to get rid of all that frustration."

Something snapped in his gaze. With a low growl, Mingyu lifted you effortlessly, those strong arms that had struggled with the barbell earlier now wrapping around your thighs as he carried you the few steps to the weight bench. He set you down on the padded surface, the leather cool against your heated skin. The bench was still slightly angled from his earlier incline presses, perfect for what he clearly had in mind.

He stood between your spread legs, looking down at you like you were his favorite meal. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to kiss you again: messy, wet, tongues tangling. Then he dropped to his knees on the rubber mat, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.

"Mingyu-" you started, but the words died in a sharp moan when his mouth found your core through the thin panties. He licked a broad stripe up the fabric, tasting your arousal, before pulling the material aside with his teeth. The first direct touch of his tongue against your clit had your back arching off the bench.

He ate you out like a man starved: long, slow licks followed by quick flicks, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming in satisfaction at the way you cried out. Two thick fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling expertly against that spot that made stars burst in front of your eyes. His free hand pressed down on your lower stomach, holding you in place as you squirmed.

"Fuck, you’re so wet already" he groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers. "All this just from comforting your frustrated boyfriend? So good for me."

You couldn’t form words, only broken moans and his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you relentlessly, fingers pumping faster, tongue never letting up. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filled the gym, obscene and intoxicating. Your hands fisted in his hair, hips bucking up to meet every thrust of his tongue.

When the coil in your belly tightened unbearably, he sensed it, doubling his efforts until you shattered with a cry. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, thighs trembling around his head as he licked you through it, drawing out every last pulse.

You were still panting, boneless, when he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His shorts tented obscenely, a dark wet spot forming at the front from his own leaking arousal. He shoved them down along with his boxers in one motion, his cock springing free: thick, long, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening.

Mingyu stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours. "Need you. Now."

You nodded eagerly, reaching for him. He climbed onto the bench with you, the frame creaking slightly under his weight but holding steady. The bench was narrow, forcing your bodies to press tightly together. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you whined.

Then he pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open. The fullness was overwhelming in the best way. When he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard.

"Shit… so tight. Always so perfect for me."

He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move: deep, powerful thrusts that rocked the bench beneath you. Each snap of his hips drove him impossibly deeper, the angle of the inclined bench hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the mirrors, mixed with your moans and his low grunts.

Mingyu’s pace was relentless, frustration and need pouring out of him with every thrust. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, angling you exactly how he wanted. Sweat dripped from his hair onto your chest as he leaned over you, mouth latching onto one nipple and sucking hard while he pounded into you.

"Take it, baby" he growled against your skin. "Take all my frustration. Let me fuck it out on this pretty pussy."

You cried out, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his shoulders. The pleasure built again, fast and intense, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He shifted slightly, one foot planted on the floor for better leverage, driving into you even harder.

The bench creaked rhythmically beneath you. In the mirror across the room, you watched the reflection, his powerful body moving over yours, muscles flexing with every thrust, your legs wrapped high around his waist. The sight alone pushed you closer to the edge.

Mingyu reached between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles. "Come on, cum for me again. Want to feel you squeezing my cock."

You shattered a second time, vision whiting out as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, pulling a deep moan from his chest.

"Fuck...yes, just like that..." He fucked you through it, pace faltering as his own release built. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, chasing his high. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna cum so deep..."

With a broken groan of your name, Mingyu buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt the hot pulses of his release inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode it out, grinding against you to prolong the pleasure.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the lights. Mingyu collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His cock was still twitching inside you, softening slowly.

You stroked his back gently, fingers tracing the sweat-slick muscles. "Feel better?" you asked softly, voice hoarse.

He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your throat. "So much better. You’re magic, you know that?"

You smiled, turning your head to kiss his temple. "Anytime you need to work out frustration…the bench is right here."

Mingyu lifted his head, eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and renewed mischief despite the exhaustion. "Careful. I might take you up on that every off day."

He kissed you slowly, tenderly this time, deep and lingering, full of love rather than raw need. When he finally pulled out, a trickle of his cum followed and he watched it with dark fascination before grabbing his discarded towel to gently clean you both.

The two of you stayed on the bench for a while longer, tangled together in the afterglow. He pulled you half on top of his chest, one arm wrapped securely around you while the other hand stroked your hair. The gym, which had started the afternoon filled with his frustration, now felt warm and intimate.

"Love you" he whispered against your hair.

"Love you more" you replied, pressing a kiss to his pec.

Eventually, the sweat started to cool on your skin and Mingyu chuckled. "Okay, now we can go upstairs. Shower together?"

You nodded, but neither of you moved right away. The bench had served its purpose today, not just for lifting weights, but for lifting the weight off his mind.

hyunjin chews on his bottom lip, feeling ashamed for even considering it. he'd promised himself he wouldn't rush this, that he'd give you the best first time possible. you deserve that.

but then there you are. his girl. right here. your discarded shirt lies on the floor, and the lace of your bra does little to hide the tempting press of your perky nipples. it isn't entirely his fault if his resolve is crumbling.

and crumble it does.

"just the tip," he repeats, his voice a husky murmur, his gaze dropping and then flicking back to yours, heavy with unspoken need. he's hovering over you now, the slick head of his cock aligned perfectly with your glistening pussy.

"yeah, yeah," you mumble, impatient, your hands reaching up to hook around his neck, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"baby, i mean it," he says, his eyes locked on yours, a warning and a plea all in one.

"uh-huh. can you just… can you put it in now?"

hyunjin sighs, the sound laced with a mock reluctance that does little to hide the tremor in his hands as he grips your thighs. it's just the tip, a gentle press against your slick folds, and a gasp escapes your lips, a feeling of fullness hitting instantly.

he finds himself mentally reciting the names of this year's football teams, a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of control, to not climax this early. and he's supposed to be the experienced one.

"hyune," you whine, your inner muscles clenching around him, a delicious squeeze that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through him. his hand comes up to gently caress your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin, and you lean into his touch.

"shit, doll," he grunts, his control fraying at the edges. "please don't squeeze like that. i c—can barely…"

"you—you should just put all of it in," you whisper, your fingers tangling in his impossibly white hair, tugging gently.

"no," he mumbles, the denial a weak protest. keeping you away from this sweet release, even though you could probably come from this alone. "you feel so good. so… so tight."

"all the more reason—"

"no." this isn't how it's supposed to happen. your first time deserves more than a stolen moment in the middle of a forgotten study session. there should be flowers, maybe candles… it should be perfect.

he's already made up his mind, the decision firm despite the insistent throb of his cock. hyunjin's thumb brushes lightly across your swollen clit, and a small whimper escapes your lips.

"hyune, i really need you." and then you look up at him, your eyes glossed with unshed tears, desperate and raw.

fuck it.

as long as it's here, with you, it'll be perfect. besides, he vaguely remembers seeing some dusty candles in the back of the storage closet.

You padded softly down the basement stairs of the house you shared with Mingyu, the cool wooden steps familiar under your bare feet. The air grew warmer as you descended, carrying the faint scent of clean sweat and the metallic tang of iron weights. It was late afternoon, sunlight filtering through the small high windows in narrow golden beams that cut across the home gym Mingyu had set up with so much pride.

He had turned one of the larger basement rooms into his personal sanctuary shortly after you two moved in together: mirrors lining one wall, a rack of neatly organized dumbbells and plates, a treadmill in the corner and the centerpiece: the adjustable weight bench with its sturdy black padding and chrome frame. Mingyu called it his "little kingdom" and on most days, it was filled with the rhythmic clank of metal and his occasional triumphant grunts.

Today, though, the sounds were different.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, tilting your head. Instead of the steady rhythm of reps, you heard a heavy sigh, followed by the dull thud of a barbell being racked with more force than necessary. Then silence, broken only by his low muttering. "...come on, what the hell..."

Your heart tugged a little. Mingyu had been training hard this week, preparing for a upcoming photoshoot and some dance practices that required him to stay in peak condition. He was always disciplined, but he was also kind to himself on most off days. Something felt off today.

You stepped into the room quietly, your oversized t-shirt (one of his, of course) brushing against your thighs. He was sitting on the edge of the bench, elbows on his knees, head hanging low so that his damp dark hair fell forward, hiding his eyes. His grey tank top clung to his broad chest and shoulders, darkened with sweat along the collar and under his arms. The veins in his forearms stood out prominently from the effort he’d already put in. His black shorts rode up slightly on his thighs and even in frustration, the sight of him made warmth bloom in your belly.

But right now, it wasn’t desire that hit you first, it was concern.

"Mingyu?" you called softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head snapped up. For a split second, his handsome face brightened at the sight of you, those sharp eyes softening, the corners of his lips twitching toward a smile. Then the frustration settled back in, clouding his expression like a shadow.

"Hey, baby" he said, voice a little rough from exertion. He tried to sound casual, wiping his face with the small towel draped over his shoulder. "Didn’t hear you come down."

You crossed the room, the rubber mats cool and springy under your feet. Stopping in front of him, you reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was warm, flushed from the workout.

"I brought you some water and a protein shake" you said, holding up the bottle and shaker you’d prepared upstairs. "Figured you might be getting thirsty after... how long have you been down here?"

He took the water with a grateful nod but didn’t open it right away. Instead, he set it on the floor beside the bench. "Couple hours. Lost track."

You glanced at the barbell still loaded on the rack above the bench. The plates looked heavier than what he usually warmed up with on chest day. From the way the bench was adjusted and the sweat soaking through his shirt, he’d clearly been pushing hard.

"Everything okay?" you asked gently, stepping between his spread knees so you could cup his face with both hands. Your thumbs stroked along his sharp jawline. "You sound... frustrated."

Mingyu let out a short, humorless laugh and leaned into your touch for a moment before pulling back slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back.

"I can’t lift for shit today" he admitted, voice low and edged with annoyance. "Bench press, my usual working weight feels like it’s doubled. I barely got through three reps without my form going to hell. Shoulders are burning already, and my chest just... won’t activate right. It’s like my body decided to betray me out of nowhere."

You frowned, glancing at the bar again. Mingyu was incredibly strong; he prided himself on his consistency. He followed a solid five-day split, hitting chest, back, shoulders, arms and legs with focused intensity. Off days happened, but he rarely let them rattle him this much.

"Maybe it’s just an off day" you offered, keeping your tone light and soothing. You knew how he could get when his perfectionist side kicked in. "You’ve been going hard all week. The photoshoot prep, those extra dance rehearsals... your body might just need a break."

He shook his head, jaw tightening. "I don’t have time for off days. The shoot is in ten days. I need to look sharp, defined, strong. Not like I slacked off." His gaze dropped to his own arms, flexing one unconsciously as if testing it. The muscle popped impressively, but he scowled anyway. "Feels weak. Like I’m back to rookie levels or something. Pathetic."

The self-criticism in his voice made your chest ache. This was classic Mingyu, the guy who was confident and playful most of the time, the one who could light up any room with his bright smile and easy laughter, but who also held himself to impossibly high standards. He was husband material through and through: attentive, protective, always making sure you were taken care of. But when it came to himself, especially his body and performance, he could be his own harshest critic.

You slid your hands down to his shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there. "Hey. Look at me."

He did, reluctantly. Those warm brown eyes met yours, frustration in them alongside a hint of vulnerability he rarely showed anyone else.

"You are not weak" you said firmly, squeezing his delts. "You’re human. Even Mingyu Kim gets tired sometimes. Remember last month when you pulled that muscle during leg day and still tried to power through? You took two rest days and came back stronger. This is the same thing."

He sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. The contact was warm and grounding. "I know. Logically, I know. But it pisses me off. I was supposed to hit a new PR on incline today. Instead, I’m racking the bar like a beginner after six reps. My mind’s in it, but the muscles just aren’t cooperating."

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He hummed softly at the touch, some of the tension easing from his broad frame. Being this close, you could smell his familiar scent: clean sweat mixed with the faint woody cologne he always wore, even to the gym.

"Want me to spot you on the next set?" you offered, though you both knew you couldn’t actually handle his heavy loads. It was more about the gesture.

Mingyu chuckled against your shirt, the sound vibrating through you. "You’d get crushed, baby. Cute offer, though."

You smiled and tilted his chin up again. "Then talk to me. What’s really bothering you? Is it just the weights, or is there more?"

He was quiet for a long moment, thumbs absently tracing circles on the backs of your thighs where his hands had settled. "It’s stupid. The company’s been riding everyone about visuals lately. With the comeback preparations overlapping with solo schedules... I just want to feel in control, you know? Like I can push my body and it listens. Today it’s not. Makes me feel... off. Like I’m letting myself down."

Your heart swelled with affection. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, then one to the tip of his nose and finally a lingering one on his lips. He kissed you back gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

"You’re not letting anyone down" you whispered against his mouth. "Least of all me. I love you exactly like this: sweaty, frustrated and still the strongest, kindest man I know."

Mingyu’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile at that. "You always know what to say." He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist so you were half-sitting on one of his thighs. The muscle flexed beneath you, solid and warm. "Thanks for coming down. I was just sitting here sulking like an idiot."

"Not an idiot" you corrected, nuzzling into his neck. "Just my big, dramatic boyfriend who thinks the world ends if he can’t bench 130 kilos today."

He laughed properly then, the rich sound filling the gym and chasing away the last of the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, it was 135 last month. Don’t sell me short."

You grinned, happy to see the spark return to his eyes. For the next twenty minutes, you stayed with him, handing him lighter weights when he decided to switch to accessory work, counting reps out loud in an exaggerated cheerleader voice that made him roll his eyes and laugh, and stealing kisses between sets. He did some lighter dumbbell presses, focusing on form and mind-muscle connection rather than ego-lifting. You could see the frustration gradually melting as he moved, your presence a steady anchor.

At one point, he pulled you onto his lap fully while he rested between sets, his large hands splaying across your back under the t-shirt. "You’re too good to me" he murmured, voice softer now. "I don’t deserve how patient you are when I get like this."

"You deserve everything" you replied, tracing the line of his collarbone with a fingertip. "And I love taking care of you. Even when you’re being a grumpy gym rat."

He squeezed your hips playfully. "Careful. Calling me grumpy might get you in trouble later."

The teasing glint in his eye sent a little thrill through you, but you kept things light for now.

Eventually, Mingyu stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. His tank top rode up, revealing the defined V of his hips and the trail of dark hair disappearing into his shorts. You tried not to stare too obviously.

"Think I’m done for today" he announced, wiping down the bench with a spray and cloth. "No point forcing it and risking injury. Tomorrow’s a new day."

You nodded approvingly, helping him rack the lighter plates. "Smart choice. How about we head upstairs? I’ll make you that chicken breast you like and we can watch something dumb on TV."

Mingyu turned to you, pulling you into a full hug this time. His body enveloped yours completely: tall, broad and radiating heat. "Sounds perfect. But first..." He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss than before. It started sweet but lingered, his tongue brushing yours just enough to promise more. When he pulled back, his voice had dropped an octave. "Thanks for grounding me, baby. Really."

You smiled up at him, heart full. "Always."

You didn’t even make it up the stairs.

Mingyu’s arm was still slung around your shoulders when he suddenly stopped at the threshold of the gym, turning you gently but firmly back toward the room. The overhead lights hummed softly, casting a warm glow over the mirrors and equipment. His body heat radiated against your side and when you looked up at him, the frustration that had clouded his face earlier had shifted into something darker, hungrier.

"Actually" he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges "I’m not ready to go upstairs yet."

Before you could ask why, his large hand cupped the back of your neck and he pulled you into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

It wasn’t the soft, comforting press of lips from earlier. This kiss was deep, demanding, laced with all the pent-up energy he hadn’t been able to burn off with iron. His mouth moved against yours with purpose, tongue sliding in to taste you as if he needed this more than oxygen. You gasped softly into the kiss, hands coming up to grip his damp tank top, fingers curling into the fabric stretched tight over his chest.

Mingyu groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. He walked you backward without breaking the kiss until your back met the cool mirrored wall. The contrast of cold glass against your heated skin made you shiver. His body pressed flush against yours, solid, towering, every hard-earned muscle molded to your softer curves.

"Fuck, baby" he breathed against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to speak. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark. "You coming down here, being all sweet and patient with me… it’s driving me crazy in a different way now."

Your heart raced. You could feel the shift in him, the frustration from his failed lifts transforming into raw, restless need. His hands roamed down your sides, slipping under the hem of his oversized top you wore, palms hot against your bare waist.

"Mingyu…" you whispered, but it came out more like a plea.

He kissed you again, harder this time, one thigh sliding between your legs to press up against your core. The thick muscle flexed deliberately and even through the thin fabric of your panties, the pressure sent sparks shooting up your spine. You moaned softly, grinding down instinctively.

"That’s it" he murmured, lips trailing along your jaw to your ear. "Let me hear you. Been thinking about this since you walked in looking so fucking cute in my shirt."

His words sent heat flooding between your thighs. You tilted your head to give him better access and he took full advantage, sucking lightly at the sensitive spot just below your ear before nipping it gently. One of his hands slid higher under your shirt, cupping your breast and thumbing over your nipple until it pebbled under his touch. The other hand gripped your hip, guiding your movements as you rocked against his thigh.

The gym felt smaller suddenly, the air thicker. The scent of his sweat mixed with the faint smell of rubber mats and metal. In the mirror beside you, you caught glimpses of the two of you: his broad back flexing, your legs parted around his thigh, his dark hair messy from your fingers.

Mingyu pulled back just enough to tug your shirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it somewhere behind him. You stood in just your panties now, the cool air kissing your skin. His eyes raked over you hungrily, pupils blown wide.

"God, you’re beautiful" he said, voice reverent even as his hands were anything but gentle. He palmed both breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples between his fingers until you whimpered. "All mine."

You reached for his tank top, yanking it upward. He helped you, peeling it off and revealing the glistening expanse of his torso: defined pecs, ridged abs, the deep cuts of his obliques leading down to the waistband of his shorts. Sweat still clung to his skin, making every muscle shine under the lights. Even frustrated with his workout, he looked like a god.

Your hands explored him greedily, tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. When your fingers dipped lower, brushing over the bulge straining against his shorts, he hissed through his teeth.

"Careful" he warned, though his hips bucked forward into your touch. "I’m already on edge."

"Good" you whispered, squeezing him through the fabric. "Let it out. Use me to get rid of all that frustration."

Something snapped in his gaze. With a low growl, Mingyu lifted you effortlessly, those strong arms that had struggled with the barbell earlier now wrapping around your thighs as he carried you the few steps to the weight bench. He set you down on the padded surface, the leather cool against your heated skin. The bench was still slightly angled from his earlier incline presses, perfect for what he clearly had in mind.

He stood between your spread legs, looking down at you like you were his favorite meal. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to kiss you again: messy, wet, tongues tangling. Then he dropped to his knees on the rubber mat, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders.

"Mingyu-" you started, but the words died in a sharp moan when his mouth found your core through the thin panties. He licked a broad stripe up the fabric, tasting your arousal, before pulling the material aside with his teeth. The first direct touch of his tongue against your clit had your back arching off the bench.

He ate you out like a man starved: long, slow licks followed by quick flicks, sucking your clit into his mouth and humming in satisfaction at the way you cried out. Two thick fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling expertly against that spot that made stars burst in front of your eyes. His free hand pressed down on your lower stomach, holding you in place as you squirmed.

"Fuck, you’re so wet already" he groaned against your folds, the vibrations making you clench around his fingers. "All this just from comforting your frustrated boyfriend? So good for me."

You couldn’t form words, only broken moans and his name falling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you relentlessly, fingers pumping faster, tongue never letting up. The wet sounds of his mouth on you filled the gym, obscene and intoxicating. Your hands fisted in his hair, hips bucking up to meet every thrust of his tongue.

When the coil in your belly tightened unbearably, he sensed it, doubling his efforts until you shattered with a cry. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, thighs trembling around his head as he licked you through it, drawing out every last pulse.

You were still panting, boneless, when he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His shorts tented obscenely, a dark wet spot forming at the front from his own leaking arousal. He shoved them down along with his boxers in one motion, his cock springing free: thick, long, flushed dark at the tip and already glistening.

Mingyu stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours. "Need you. Now."

You nodded eagerly, reaching for him. He climbed onto the bench with you, the frame creaking slightly under his weight but holding steady. The bench was narrow, forcing your bodies to press tightly together. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you whined.

Then he pushed in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open. The fullness was overwhelming in the best way. When he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard.

"Shit… so tight. Always so perfect for me."

He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move: deep, powerful thrusts that rocked the bench beneath you. Each snap of his hips drove him impossibly deeper, the angle of the inclined bench hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the mirrors, mixed with your moans and his low grunts.

Mingyu’s pace was relentless, frustration and need pouring out of him with every thrust. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, angling you exactly how he wanted. Sweat dripped from his hair onto your chest as he leaned over you, mouth latching onto one nipple and sucking hard while he pounded into you.

"Take it, baby" he growled against your skin. "Take all my frustration. Let me fuck it out on this pretty pussy."

You cried out, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his shoulders. The pleasure built again, fast and intense, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He shifted slightly, one foot planted on the floor for better leverage, driving into you even harder.

The bench creaked rhythmically beneath you. In the mirror across the room, you watched the reflection, his powerful body moving over yours, muscles flexing with every thrust, your legs wrapped high around his waist. The sight alone pushed you closer to the edge.

Mingyu reached between you, thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles. "Come on, cum for me again. Want to feel you squeezing my cock."

You shattered a second time, vision whiting out as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched rhythmically around him, pulling a deep moan from his chest.

"Fuck...yes, just like that..." He fucked you through it, pace faltering as his own release built. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, chasing his high. "Gonna fill you up. Gonna cum so deep..."

With a broken groan of your name, Mingyu buried himself to the hilt and came hard. You felt the hot pulses of his release inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode it out, grinding against you to prolong the pleasure.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the lights. Mingyu collapsed half on top of you, careful not to crush you with his full weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His cock was still twitching inside you, softening slowly.

You stroked his back gently, fingers tracing the sweat-slick muscles. "Feel better?" you asked softly, voice hoarse.

He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to your throat. "So much better. You’re magic, you know that?"

You smiled, turning your head to kiss his temple. "Anytime you need to work out frustration…the bench is right here."

Mingyu lifted his head, eyes sparkling with a mix of satisfaction and renewed mischief despite the exhaustion. "Careful. I might take you up on that every off day."

He kissed you slowly, tenderly this time, deep and lingering, full of love rather than raw need. When he finally pulled out, a trickle of his cum followed and he watched it with dark fascination before grabbing his discarded towel to gently clean you both.

The two of you stayed on the bench for a while longer, tangled together in the afterglow. He pulled you half on top of his chest, one arm wrapped securely around you while the other hand stroked your hair. The gym, which had started the afternoon filled with his frustration, now felt warm and intimate.

"Love you" he whispered against your hair.

"Love you more" you replied, pressing a kiss to his pec.

Eventually, the sweat started to cool on your skin and Mingyu chuckled. "Okay, now we can go upstairs. Shower together?"

You nodded, but neither of you moved right away. The bench had served its purpose today, not just for lifting weights, but for lifting the weight off his mind.

his head snaps back towards you, and he looks greatly alarmed. "what? i didn't say that. don't make shit up." you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, watching him swallow from his spot in the doorway.

"okay," you hum, dragging the syllables out. your eyes rake over his figure, stopping at the rather obvious bulge in his pants. "y'know what else is up—"

"shut up," he mutters, narrowing his eyebrows at you. with his arms crossed, seungmin clicks his tongue. "you're always fucking with me, aren't you?" he crosses the short space between you two, and your breath hitches.

standing directly above, he looks down at you, shaking his head. "is everything a joke to you?" he asks, but he's clearly not expecting an answer with the way he grabs your face with his hand, slowly dragging it down to your neck, where his thumb presses down against the base.

a whimper slips past your lips. "seung—"

"that's enough, pup. you're gonna stay quiet now, yeah?" he's quiet for a moment, like he's thinking. then: "open," seungmin tells you, his gaze fixed on your lips. you do as he says, sticking your tongue out slightly.

he spits sharply in your mouth, and on instict, you swallow, a soft moan slipping past your lips. seungmin chuckles, clearly amused. "so... you can be a good girl. you just choose to be a tease instead, huh?"

that must be rhetorical, too, because he's already moving on. your boyfriend just points towards the floor, shaking his head. "get on your knees."

you slid off the bed, knees hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. you know what he wants, and you know that he's not interested in waiting. breath hitching, you unbutton his pants, hooking your fingers under the waistband and releasing him from the constraints.

he's heavy and hard, tip leaking. you lick up a bead of precum, before opening your mouth to take as much of him as you can. you gag on his length, tears pricking your eyes, as you hollow your cheeks out to suck.

"fuck—you look so pretty like this. choking on my cock like a dumb puppy," seungmin groans, his hands moving to collect your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

his tip bumps the back of your throat, and you whine, squeezing your eyes shut. "this what you wanted?" he asks, thrusting slightly. you hum in a half-response, and the vibration makes his hips stutter.

yeah. this was exactly what you wanted.

Closing the door to your apartment behind you, quietly, twisting the knob to not make a single sound, you tip toed toward the kitchen table and set your purse down. Then your keys. Then, you jumped again.

“Fu-huck!”

His whine echoed from his room, out into the tiny hallway, into the kitchen, and up your skirt. Twisting your knees, squeezing your thighs together, you bit down on your bottom lip and cursed the fact you hadn’t gotten laid in months.

Having Mark for a roommate didn’t help.

Not when he sounded like that.

Pressing your hands into the wood, you sucked down a deep breath and shook it off. He was a male within a few feets radius of you, you didn’t want him, especially not right now, at the start of this week when you wanted anything and everything that walked. Just earlier on your walk home a street vendor complimented your legs, a catcall really, but you very well could’ve spun around and shown them to him up close. 

You didn’t want Mark. You were ovulating and overstimulated and sensitive. And he’s an attractive guy, you’ve told him that before, he knows it, everyone thinks he's sexy.

His bedroom door swung open and your stomach dropped past your knees. He wore grey sweats only, and his headphones lived around his neck, his hair a mess from where they once sat on his head. 

Games. Gaming. Gamer. He was playing games. 

Not fucking someone into his mattress. Though it was hard to tell the difference, he sucked air harshly through his teeth just the same, no matter the activity.

Not that you listened. Or paid attention. Or touched yourself when you knew he had his hand wrapped around his cock thinking his sounds were muffled by the low beat of his nighttime playlist full of underground this guy eats, trust me rappers.

“Hey,” he smiled at you, a flash of perfect teeth with a boyish curl of his lips, “Thought I heard you come in.”

“Hi,” you sighed, standing up straight, composing yourself. Your eyes dropped to his toned middle, his perfectly sculpted chest, the silver chain hanging around his neck…

He swaggered for the fridge, coming closer to you, bodies separated by the table in the middle of the kitchen. The expanse of his back, just as honey, just as broad, just as built as his front, as his everything else. Mark wasn’t a big guy, but jesus god almighty did everything on him fit together in perfect harmony. 

“How was work?” he asked, pulling a water bottle from a shelf, knobby fingers wrapping around the plastic. Arm flexing as he twisted off the cap and brought the spout to his lips, he turned to you and watched you while he drank. 

A slight furrow of his brows beneath his undone hair, a pout in his lips, especially after he pulled the bottle away, the wide innocence in his eyes he wears as a facade, a trick, a ploy, because beneath that purity…

“Did you hear me?”

His smile settled into a smirk.

“Hm?” you hummed, and you watched him drag his eyes up and down your body. Glancing down at yourself you felt your cheeks flush of all color. 

Bent over the table like you were, your knees had turned in. Thighs squeezing together, you practically trembled. Embarrassing. Humiliating really. Emitting a horniness reading absolutely off the charts, he could tell.

“Uh, yeah,” your voice almost squeaked. Pushing off the table you brushed your hands together and scooped up your things. “Work was… good.”

Mark leaned against a counter, his abs flexing ever so slightly. He crossed an arm over his chest and sipped his water, eyes narrowing.

“You’re lying,” he said, tongue darting between his lips, pointing at you with the bottle. Eyes glancing to his glistening lips, you withheld a whimper and shook your head.

You’ve got to get out of here.

“Not lying,” you said with the smallest of giggles, forcing some sort of smile onto your face. “I gotta shower.” 

Starting for your bedroom that lived at the end of the hall, adjacent to Marks, his laugh paralyzed you. Sarcastic, knowing, sadistic. It bled into your ears, melted over your skin, and you despised what it did to your heart. 

“You had your proposal today,” he started, pushing off the counter with his backside, padding over to the hall where you stood begging the bathroom to come closer to you so you wouldn’t have to withstand his presence any longer. “The big one. Your boss would be there, all the guys who think they have big dicks that own the company… Right?”

Turning slowly, very, very slowly, meeting his slightly confused expression, you nodded

“Riiiight,” he sang, voice going low and gravelly. A chill ran down your spine, one you’re hoping he didn’t notice. “I’ve listened to you all month. You’ve been dreading today, ‘cause you knew they weren’t gonna go for your team. They chose that asshole with the money, didn’t they?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, and he tipped his chin up, looking down at you. The ache between your thighs, the heat beneath your skin, grew tenfold under his stare. 

You could reach out, grab him, fall onto the floor, yank down his sweatpants, slip your panties aside and sink onto him. It wasn’t even about him, you think, maybe. He’s a guy. A man who chronically oozed sex appeal, who caught the eye of everyone walking down the city streets. He’d be something hot, and hard, to fill yourself with, to relieve yourself upon, getting you through this week so you didn’t have to succumb to your vibrator or your own fingers…

He licked his lips again, the tip of his tongue sliding along his bottom lip dangerously slow. 

Back and forth… back and forth… back and- 

“You still with me?” he asked within a breath, almost a whisper, pulling you out of a trance.

You needed to leave. 

Gulping, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. Shook him out of your head. Him and his hot, shirtless self with his grey sweatpants hanging so low on his hips you knew he wasn’t wearing anything beneath them because the definition between his hips, down his pelvis winked at you. 

“I’m fine.” Snapping your eyes open, you glared at him. “You’re right. Bad day. Thanks so much for reminding me.” You spun on your heels and stormed down the hall, stepping into your bedroom. He attempted to follow, arms shooting out at his side, eyes going wide, all signs of playing wiped from his cheeks.

“Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to do that, I was only trying to-“

You slammed your door shut.

In his face.

Mark Lee was not allowed in your bedroom, not right now. And probably not anytime in the near future. And then some.

This week sucked. A goddamned reminder that you had the worlds sexiest roommate and couldn’t do a thing about it. That the crush you’ve tried to swallow away for a year now was very much still real, very much still hanging over your head, something you can’t seem to escape. Not when your body quite literally begged you to reproduce with him.

Sighing, eyes falling shut, you threw your head back against the door.

Why Mark Lee???

Why your roommate you’ve grown tumultuously close to, closer than anyone else to you at this point in your life???

The Mark Lee who brings home girls some weekends, who goes out to party with friends he met in college, who works remotely, rarely has to leave the apartment, so he’s always here, always saying hi to you, always quick to greet you and bid you a good day when you leave in the morning…

Criminal really, how domestic it all seemed. How some days he’ll hint toward it, completely destroying weeks of suppression you worked oh so hard to build, only to now have to do it all over again.

You promised yourself you wouldn't get to this point.

That living with someone as attractive as Mark would work.

Guys and girls can be friends, you and Mark, you'd beat the stereotype.

Maybe it was time to move out.

Pushing off of your door to peel your top layers off, leaving a shirt and your skirt on to move to the bathroom with, you pulled pins from your hair and slumped onto your bed to pull your socks off.

Glancing about the space, your cozy bedroom you put together yourself, with Mark's help, he really etched himself into every part of your life. 

A hoodie of his laid over the back of a chair, a pair of his sunglasses sat on top of your dresser, some of the earrings in your jewelry box were his... For gods sake, you shared the same shampoo and soap.

Digging your hands through your hair, splaying yourself backwards on your bed, you reached for your laptop and pulled it over your stomach. Opening it, you punched Apartments.com in to the search bar and let available places in your area, nearby work, pop up.

Scrolling for about a minute, eyeing the monthly rent in comparison to location and appearance, you squeezed your eyes shut and groaned. 

Now was not the time.

Tossing your laptop to your mattress, not bothering to log out or shut it, you snatched your towel and disappeared into the bathroom, allowing the hot water to wash away work stress, ovulating thoughts, and feelings.

Wrapping yourself in your towel, tucking it in so it stayed put, you smoothed lotion over your exposed skin, up your neck, down your chest, around your arms. Making note of where your necklace and earrings were on the counter that you'd have to come back for, you picked up your clothes, flipped off the light, and peeked out into the hallway for any sign of Mark.

Years you've lived here, and yet the act of running from the shower to your bedroom performed like some sort of humiliation ritual. 

Not for Mark, of course. He'd wander around in his towel for hours.

The apartment was quiet. No games, no whines, no Mark.

Maybe he left.

Stepping out of the bathroom, leaving the door cracked, you took two giant strides toward your door and spun inside swiftly, turning the knob as you closed your door, just in case he was still here somewhere.

"What are you looking at these for?"

Jumping a mile, grabbing onto the top of your towel, you whirled around with a gasp. 

He was sitting on your bed with your laptop on his legs that were folded under him.

"Mark!" 

He glanced up at you, his brows furrowed and focused, paying no mind to how your cheeks flushed and your body still dripped. "When were you planning on moving?"

"I wasn't, I-I was just-"

Looking down at the screen, he squinted at something. "Looking for apartments in this building."

Stepping toward your bed, you held up a finger. "Everywhere, not just this building."

He scoffed, his lips perking into the tiniest of smirks. "So, you admit it. You're moving out." The way he looked at you...

Both hands held onto your towel, pressing to your chest for your own sanity and composure. 

You were naked.

He was on your bed, half naked.

"I wasn't planning on it," you sighed, eyes wide, hoping to tide him over with your words so that he'd leave and you could continue your search, or, at least put some clothes on. "You saw me when I came in here, I was stressed, so it was the first thing I thought of to do to help my nerves, I guess, I-"

Setting the laptop aside, he rose to his feet, head cocking to the right. All of his accessories were gone, it was just him, his sweats, and that silver chain around his neck.

"How is a new apartment gonna help relieve your stress at work?" he asked, taking small steps toward you. His frame stood bigger than your own. More clothed than you, taller than you, you sunk backward, your body pressing against your door. "I did see you, you were..." His eyes flickered to your lips. "Upset."

Five inches separated you.

"Mark," you whispered, and he looked at you. "It's just a bad day."

"Is it?" he asked, closing two more inches, eyeing your parted lips as your breath hitched. 

Gulping, you nodded, holding onto the cotton that covered you even tighter. "Bad day."

Narrowing his eyes, you could feel his warm breath trickling over your skin still damp from the shower. "So, you thought a new apartment would cure that bad day?" He didn't let you answer, cutting you off before you started. "Why don't you just tell me what you really need, sweetheart," he whispered, closing the gap between you, pressing himself against you, "And we can stop playing fucking games.”

His hands pressed against the wood of the door, his arms caging you in. Chest to chest, his nose nudged yours and he smirked as your eyes fluttered shut.

Intoxicating. 

Every siren in your head shot off.

His warmth, his presence, his smell, his words, his lips.

"Look at me," he murmured, and you obeyed, meeting his proud smile. "Good girl," he cooed, nudging your nose with his. Your knees trembled. He let a soft laugh loose. "Yeah, you like that. I knew it."

"Knew it?" you breathed, your heart pounding between your lungs.

Mark licked his lips and popped his brows. "I hear you too, sweetheart." His lips ghosted yours, smiling as your face screwed up in disbelief. "Oh, yeah," he sang, "You're filthy. How many toys you got in that drawer over there? Wanna play?"

Writhing, pressing your legs together, your core slick already, you whined and shook your head. "Mark."

Parting his lips, softening his face, he pouted. "Oh, babe, you're not in trouble." Taking a hand to your chin, he danced his thumb over your cheek, swooning as you melted into his touch. "I'm teasing," he whispered, taking in how you stared up at him, unable to look at anything else since he said look at me.

Swallowing thickly, you took shallow breaths, your mind tuning to the sound of his voice. Mark pinched your cheek gently, his brows steadying over his deep brown eyes. The way you stared at him, like he hung the stars and held the answer to all of your problems...

"I know what you need," he said just above a whisper, his fingers drawing over your skin gently, dancing down your neck. "As soon as you walked in the door, I could tell." His finger hooked below your chin, lifting it more, your doe eyes deepening. "Fuck," he whispered. "I'll leave you alone, okay, you can get into that drawer-"

He stepped away from you, and you reached for him, hands grabbing onto his bare biceps.

"Mark-"

Your towel slipped.

He didn't look.

His entire being softened.

Waiting.

His eyes never left yours.

Sucking in a shaky breath, he pushed out, "Yeah?"

Clenching your jaw, you gave him the tiniest nod of your head, and he groaned.

"Tell me," he whispered. The feeling of your fingers digging into his skin made his lashes flutter. "Say the words," he shook his head, "Or, you get nothing."

Steadying your breath, breaking through the part of you that longed for him to just give in and swallow you whole, you said, “I need you.”

It was all he needed.

Pushing you up against the door, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck and the other slipping down your body, Mark opened his mouth and pressed his lip to your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin as your arms hooked around his neck. Rocking with him, letting his weight push you to where he wanted you to be, you followed, body lax, under his control.

His fingers slipped between your legs, dragging through your folds, pressing to your clit. Moaning against your neck, grinding himself into you at the sound of your own whimper, he lifted his head and touched his forehead to yours.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss your lips, heavy yet slowly, his tongue poking through to meet with yours, “You’ve been pent up all day, haven’t you?”

“Three days,” you gasped, clinging to him, the massage of his fingers making you tremble.

His tongue dragged over your lips. “Three days?” Pressing wet kisses to your cheek, he muttered, “You’ve been this horny for three days?” Pulling away from you briefly, watching you writhe with every twist of his fingers, every brush of his thumb over your clit, he started to smile. The hand around your neck tightened, pressing into the sides.

“Mark,” you moaned, and the sound he made lit a spark in your belly.

Screwing your eyes shut, you thrashed against the door, knees going weak as he slid two into you, his thumb in a steady rhythm over your bud. Grinding into his hand, throwing your hips in a circle, his smile fell into a smirk.

“You want it bad,” he muttered, dipping down to nip at your neck. “What can I do to you, baby?”

Feeling your belly tighten every time you became aware that this was Mark doing this to you, touching you, making your toes curl, you couldn’t find it within yourself to hold back. Shame was lost on you.

Clawing at his back, gasping for air, a moaning mess, you babbled, “Anything, anything, y-you can do anything, I don’t… Fuck… Mark.”

“Good fucking girl,” he cooed, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth before his lips were latched to you once more. Pumping his fingers into you, curling them towards him, you shook. Bending at the knees, he pressed hot kisses down your chest, grabbing a handful on the way down, his fingers teasing your nipples. Searing his lips down your middle, over your belly button and below, he pulled his fingers from you on his knees and looked up at you. “You’re beautiful.”

Heaving breaths, your cheeks warmed. Covering your face with your hands, you managed to finally crack some sort of giggle. “Stop,” you whispered.

“Come here,” he breathed, gripping your hips, tugging your lower half toward him. Guiding one leg over his shoulder, he smoothed that hand up the back of your thigh, giving your ass a squeeze with a moan. Dragging his thumb through your slick, he curved his lips into the perfect ‘o’ and gazed up at you as he blew cool air over your core. 

Sucking air in through your teeth, jolting away from him, one hand flew down to lace through his hair, giving him the harshest tug. Proud of himself, he beamed up at you and let his tongue roll through his parted lips. 

“Where do you want me?” he asked, voice an octave lower than usual. He didn’t fight against your hold, but you could feel him start to try to. Letting him go, his smile wiped away. “No, hang on to me.”

“I didn’t wanna-”

He gripped your hip, his other hand sliding up your middle to grab a handful of tit. “Hang on to me,” he said through his teeth, nudging himself into your core, his nose pushing on your clit, his tongue sliding into your hole.

Both of your hands knit into his hair, holding onto him for balance as he held you up on one foot.

Lapping at you, his tongue swirling and twisting, the pressure in your belly growing tenfold, you cried out for him and allowed yourself to fall against him, all your composure gone. Mark pressed his fingers into your curves, pinched and toyed with your nipple while he moaned into your pussy soaking his face. Bobbing his head, tongue going flat, he moved with you, your hips circling on his face, riding wherever the pleasure wanted you to go.

Vision blurry, body on fire, you tugged at his hair but it wasn’t enough. You tried to reach down for him, but he wouldn’t move. You wanted to see him, to hold him, hold onto him, kiss him–

“Mark,” you whimpered, trying to pull him off of you. “Mark, please.”

Parting from you once, sucking in a breath, chest heaving, he gazed up at you with lust stricken eyes, his lips and cheeks a mess. “Wanna make you cum,” he groaned, soothing you with a circle of his hand on your thigh, “Doing so good, baby, please?”

“No,” you cried out, pulling him to his feet.

He let you. 

Gently placing you back on the ground, holding you up, he pressed himself to you and cupped your jaw. You gave him a kiss, one small, one soft, one tasting like you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, giggling as he pulled a hand up to wipe his face clean, he kissed you again, longer this time, your breaths in sync, like the beating of your hearts.

“I’m right here,” he whispered. “You okay?”

Nodding, gazing at him, you licked your lips and gave him the quietest whine.

His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, his eyes flickering to it, and with the gentlest whisper, he asked, “Your bed or mine?”

“Stay here,” you breathed, and he smiled.

Taking his hands to your waist, he pulled you up, wrapping you around his front. Stolen kisses on the way there, a few strides backward toward your bed, he tipped over as you giggled and laid you down on your mattress. Tongue escaping, nasty kisses pushed to your neck, Mark pushed his sweats to the floor and climbed over you, his knees pushing yours open.

Taking both hands to your jaw, he tipped your head backward and coerced your lips open with his thumbs, holding them there. His cheeks sucked in, as his length prodded at your entrance, he pursed his lips and let a ball of spit drip onto your tongue. Moans trapped in the back of your throat, you arched against him. 

Mark, eyes dark as ever, bobbed his head and stuck his thumb in your mouth, spreading his spit on your tongue. “I knew it,” he teased, “Again.” As if you were going to be able to question him, he looked you in the eyes and whispered, “Nasty.”

Eyes rolling, you wiggled your hips, the feeling of his tip not enough. Wrapping your lips around his thumb, giving him a harsh suck, you swore the devil flashed in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grumbled, “Don’t get me started. I want you gagging every which way, I’ve pictured it, gotten off to it.” You moaned and he laughed. “But, I wanna fuck your pussy more than I wanna fuck your throat,” he dipped down to press a kiss to your forehead, pushing stray hairs out of the way, whispering, “That okay?”

“Please,” you mumbled around his thumb, digging your teeth into it. “Mark, please.”

He lingered by your ear, lips brushing your lobe. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you cried, writhing under him. He pulled his thumb out of your mouth and gripped your chin. Meeting his gaze, you whimpered. “Please, Mark, fuck me. I need you so bad.”

“Thought you were gonna let me bend you over the kitchen table,” he said, reaching a hand between your bodies to grip himself, “Pictured that before, too.”

“Fuck,” you gasped as he slid his tip into you.

He winced at how you squeezed him already, his brows tipped in the middle, his lips curling under. “Let me in, baby, can’t give you what you want if you don’t breathe.”

Your heart beat in your ears. You could barely get any air in as his length pushed inside of you, the pressure too great. The stretch, too much, the thought, the knowing that it was Mark, this was Mark, your roommate, inside of you, his cock, the pleasure–

A long sigh, laced with a whine, washed over him from your lips. Pushing into the hilt, your thighs touching, his hips on your hips, your clit pushing into his pelvis, he laid on top of you, your chests meshed. Parted lips met yours, the brush of a tongue on yours, the stinging of tears in your eyes as he rocked into you– you could feel him in your throat.

His thumbs pushed into your cheeks, his soft touch keeping you with him, brushing over your bottom lashes as your lips parted and you sighed, gazing up at him. 

A mess, both of you. His hair, pushed around in ways he’d never let you see, his eyes, glazed over with euphoria, his lips, parted and hungry. Teeth baring as he rocked into you, your breath hitching in your chest, you drug your hands down his back, your nails leaving behind plush red love marks as they came back up to his shoulders.

“God, I just wanna stay like this,” he mumbled, burying his head in your neck, moaning into your shoulder. “Feel so good, sweetheart,” he sighed, wrapping his lips in a kiss below your jaw.

One of your hands escaped to his hair, knitting into his locks, holding onto him for clarity. “You’re so… big…” you managed to gasp between snaps of his hips.

Smirking down at you, he pushed himself up to his hands, the silver chain on his neck dangling over your nose. “Yeah?”

Managing a smile with your twisted brows, you breathed through a laugh, “Knew it.”

“Fuck, you’re so cute,” he muttered, suffocating you with a kiss, his hands eager to hold you in anyway they possibly could. “You know what it takes to hold myself back?”

Your tongue wanted to pop out of your lips. Biting down on your lip, moaning without giving yourself permission, you blinked up at him, dazed, ignited with nirvana.

Relief.

Mark pushed up off of you, guiding your legs around his waist as he held onto yours. Picking your hips up off the mattress, he pistoled into you and tipped his head back, his groans echoing off the walls, lingering in the air.

“You know what it feels like… to have you walk around here… like you don’t know how hot you are?” He took a thumb to your clit, pressing down, grinning as you cried out and writhed, your hands gripping onto your sheets. “What it feels like… to hear you moan into your pillows… knowing that I could walk in here… and fuck you dumb?”

“Yes,” you gasped, voice broken, “Mark, yes, you drive me fucking crazy.”

He snickered. “Do I?”

Every twist of his thumb made you tremble, your high barreling toward you as you watched his body move. The arch in his back, the push of his hips, where your bodies met, the sound your bodies made…

“I wanted you as soon as I got home,” you babbled, fucking yourself back onto him as he thrust into you, “Wanted you to fuck me, wanted you to make me cum… Mark.”

His body let loose for a second, his composure dropping, his head lulling back, but then he grabbed your waist and pushed you both up to your pillows. Stretching his legs behind him, putting his hands behind your knees, he folded you in half and lowered himself on top of you. 

Hair stuck to his forehead, your breaths tangled in shared air, his chain kissed your chin, your nose, your neck.

“Mark,” you whispered, your belly tightening, your legs shaking around him. Pulling him closer, landing messy kisses to his cheek, to his jaw, you gasped, right on the edge. “M’fu- Mark!”

“Come on,” he whispered, lazy lips brushing your cheek, “C’mon, babe. I got you.” You squeezed him, your body twitching under him, a tumultuous build up, a crash you needed three days ago. Fueled by his hands, his hips, his tongue, you cried out for him, barely recognizing yourself. “Cum for me, sweetheart, c’mon, you can do it.”

Almost missing your lips with a kiss, he moaned into your mouth as his own belly tensed.

“Need you to cum first,” he groaned, letting his fingers toy with your clit, his speed relentless, but he knew as soon as you went silent, he had you. “Be a good girl,” he whined, nose pressing to your cheek, “C’mon… Cum on my cock, baby, isn’t that what you want? Cum and I’ll fill you up, you want that?”

Nodding, fast, barely breathing, only able to suck air in, unable to push any out, you clung to him as your vision seared white, and you convulsed into him, body ignited with a pleasure brand new. You squeezed him tight, giving him little time to warn you he was cumming, filling you up with half a thrust as he dropped to his elbows and whimpered.

You’re not sure how long you laid in silence, spent bodies pressed together on a mussed up bedspread that now needed a washing. Then, he stirred.

Picking up his head of messed up hair, he looked down at you, eyes heavy, lips swollen. Surprised to see you already looking, he smiled, a flash of his teeth poking between his lips. Pulling out of you, taking his time, watching you closely as he did, he kissed you gently.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, shifting over your body to lay beside you, wrapping an arm around your back to tuck you into his side.

Unable to not look at him, you brushed your lips over his chest and whispered, “You’re incredible.”

Resting an arm behind his head, he looked down at you with a lazy smile. “You feel better?”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, making him laugh. “But, I think…”

He flipped his brows over, reaching his hand out to fix the mess that was your hair. “You think what, sweetheart?” 

Curling up against him, you cowered and hid your face in his arm.

“Tell me,” he said softly, smoothing his hand under your chin, lifting your head. Pursing your lips, as if he could tell by the flutter of your lashes, he poked his cheek with his tongue. “Be a good girl and use your words,” he whispered, and you almost whimpered.

Your heart swelled in your chest, your cheeks heating as you whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”

Mark glanced around your room before looking at you crazy. “Am I… going somewhere?” Smiling as you giggled, he screwed his face up and tried to wiggle away from you. “Oh, wait, actually, that's you. How’s the apartment hunt going?”

“No!” Grabbing onto him, pulling him back into you, he rolled over on his side, hovering over you. Blinking up at him, you took a deep breath and shook your head. “I’m not leaving. You overwhelmed me, I thought I had no other option.”

Mark raised his brows. “Instead of just asking me to fuck, you were going to move out? To a whole new apartment? When this one is just fine?” Your smile faded, and your resolve clouded over. Mark tilted his head, curious. “Talk to me.”

Rolling your eyes, dragging your nails against his back, softer this time, you mumbled, “I… like you… Mark.” He didn’t move. “I was thinking about moving, ‘cause… I have feelings for you. And, after this… I want you. I wanted you before. I want to be yours.”

It took his six whole seconds to break into a toothy grin. “Great,” he huffed, catching your lips in a slow kiss, whispering against them, “Which room do you want to be ours?”

Eyes widening, he shocked you with another kiss.

Nudging your nose with his, he winked. “I wanna be yours.”

"Can I kiss you?" he asked while holding your hand, his cheeks flushed in anticipation.

"Of course you can," you grinned. It wasn't your first kiss...or even the first dozen. He'd kissed you for the first time last week after walking you to your car. Still, he always asked. It was sort of sweet...

He sighed in relief as if somewhere in his insecure mind he still thought you'd reject him and inched forward, pressing his soft lips to yours with a gentle hum. You were straddling him for the first time and could feel his hands wandering down your spine until he reached the hem of your shirt.

He pulled his hands back up and you could tell they were twitching nervously. As if to guide him to more, you began grinding his waist, rocking your hips back and forth up the length of his cock until his pupils were blown and he pulled back with a sigh.

"Can I take this off?" he rasped, his voice deep with need as he eyed your shirt.

You nodded with a smirk and raised your arms for him to pull off the thin tank top. His eyes immediately turned to your chest, his hand pressing to your bra as his mouth resumed kissing you.

You smiled into the first kiss and ran your hands across his broad shoulders and back to his chest. His shirt was soft and his heart thudded anxiously beneath your palm. You could almost feel the wheels spinning in his head before he asked if he could remove your bra.

"You don't have to ask every time," you teased. "I'll tell you if I feel like I'm being pushed too far."

He looked uncertain but nodded as his fingers got to work undoing the clasp. Within seconds it had been snapped off and discarded on the floor. You bit your lip proudly at him and ran your fingers through his auburn hair.

"Your shirt has to come off too," you ordered while reaching for the black compression material. He laughed and pulled it over his head before standing and pulling you against him. Now flushed chest to chest, you only wanted to be closer, to feel that secure warmth surge through you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured as he kissed each cheek. You blushed at the compliment and playfully kissed his nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into a deeper kiss.

He groaned and let his hands fall to your ass, finally taking advantage of your offer for him to push the limits a bit...even if only for a moment.

"Can I take these off too?" he checked while tracing the waistline of your leggings.

You bit your cheek to hide the disappointment that he couldn't just take charge and remove your pants before guiding him to the bed.

What happened from there could only be described as clinical. He checked in so much that you couldn't get that wet as each time it pulled you out of the dazed happy state and back to his fear-driven state.

He was a good guy...a great guy...but he couldn't help but to pull you into his head where he existed in worries and stress. You just wanted to exist in the moment with him...to feel him collapse in deep breaths as he came and little laughs as he let you know he enjoyed it.

But he lived so much in his head that you knew he couldn't exist in the real world.

————————————————————————————

"So...it was that bad?" Candi asked as you sat beside her on a barstool, leaning against the counter that was slightly sticky and wet.

"Not bad..." you began, trying to defend him. After all, he was a really nice guy...just not the guy for you.

"Did you cum?" she asked, making you choke on your martini at her bluntness.

"No," you croaked out, trying to answer her through the coughs to catch your breath again. "But neither did he"

"So he brings you down with him to anxiety land...yikes," she frowned.

"He's a nice guy," you argued.

"Last I checked, nice isn't what makes your pussy wet is it?" she joked.

You shook your head again with a laugh, reminded only of the menagerie of douchbags in your past. Each was toxic and mean or possessive and needy...and yet their desire for you was the sexiest thing about each of them.

"So who in this bar could be your rebound?" she asked as she spun around to examine the options. "Mr. Fake Hermes watch?" she suggested.

You turned to see where she was looking and shook your head. "Insecure about his wealth."

"Right...what about Capris in the corner?"

You turned and saw he was staring at you already. He was bald and muscular. And short...

"The last short guy I fucked had a complex," you reminded her.

"Oh right...Ankle Chomper," she shivered as she recalled the way he always bit your ankle before going down on you like a feisty chihuahua.

"What about him?" you asked, pointing towards a brooding man at the end of the bar. He was staring into his whisky and circling his finger along the glass with a frown.

"He looks kinda upset, (Y/N). Like he was dumped or something," she shouted over the music.

You snagged your purse off the counter and hopped off the stool. "And what do dumped guys do?"

She snorted and waved you off. "Enjoy your little pet."

You grinned and made your way over to the man. Men who looked this upset at bars were often the best to you. You were their savior from a terrible night...and they fucked you best to reward you for it.

You sat beside him and immediately began your line, "I'm so sorry I'm late babe. There was traffic on the highway and the bouncer didn't think my ID was real. He thought (Y/N) was a fake name. Can you believe that?"

He looked up with the most innocently confused eyes...but he had looked up...which meant he could be saved from his terrible night.

"What are you drinking? I owe you one for waiting on me?" you asked as you flagged down Dylan, the bartender.

"I..." he tried to begin but you'd already turned to Dylan who knew your game better than anyone.

"One mojito please, and I'll get him another of whatever he's having," you grinned with a wink.

"Coming right up," Dylan smirked with a laugh as he headed off to pretend to make the drinks.

The man blinked in surprise, his mouth still parted in the answer he never got to give.

"Oh! Sorry!" you laughed. "Where are my manners?" you began as you leaned in, giving him the chance to back away. "It's nice to meet you," you breathed before cupping his cheeks and kissing him.

The whisky on the table became an afterthought. Hell, the bar became an afterthought. He snaked his hands around your waist and pulled you closer as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He was warm and desperate, and you lost your breath quicker than you'd ever admit. You were gasping when he pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours.

"Your place or mine?" you asked as you caught your breath.

He laughed a little breathlessly and reached for your hand. "Mine. I'm Mingyu by the way."

"I don't care," you muttered before kissing him again and feeling a flutter run through you when he hummed against your lips.

Mingyu pulled you outside to the city that should've been at rest. It was well past midnight and yet cars were skirting through the streets and people were laughing and arguing on their phones. Mingyu walked slightly ahead as if determined to get there as quickly as possible, but he held on to your hand like a lifeline.

"My roommate might be asleep," he whispered his warning.

You nodded and followed him quietly through the pitch-black apartment all the way down the hall where his room was lit up by a lamp. Your heart raced at the idea of being caught, and you nearly complained when he shut his door.

"Come here," he groaned as he pulled you towards the bed.

You kicked off your heels and listened by straddling him. You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped when you felt his cock against your core.

"Fuck you're hard already?" you asked.

"Who wouldn't be?" he rasped. "Have you seen yourself?"

You felt your ego inflating already and ran your fingers through his hair. He was moaning desperately before a strangled gasp left his lips as you yanked his head back. "I don't want to be treated like I'm fragile."

He raised his brow and stood with your legs looped around his waist to press you back against the wall. "Who the fuck thought you were fragile?" he asked before tearing off the first strap of your dress.

You squealed in shock before clasping your hand over your mouth to hold back the groan that followed as he bit and sucked on your shoulder.

"You'll leave a mark," you warned.

"I know," he smirked as he did it again to the other side.

You couldn't help but feel your core dampen at the thought of being bruised by this stranger. You only grew wetter when he yanked the dress down to reveal your chest.

"Fuck," he whined at the sight. "And to think tonight started off so bad."

"Why was it bad baby?" you breathed, holding his head closer when he began trailing kisses along your chest.

"I got looked over for a promotion," he explained before sucking your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.

"Did you deserve it?" you asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes, but the boss's son wanted it," he complained.

You held his face and gazed softly at him, "Take it out on me."

"You're a twisted little thing aren't you?" he smirked.

"The twistiest," you teased with a yelp as he tossed you back to the bed.

He threw off his shirt and began undoing his belt as you watched with wide eyes and spread legs. He had the best body you had ever seen, so much so that you wanted to stay right here in front of him just staring at his abs flexing with every breath.

Then the belt came off, and he demanded that you turn over. You hadn't been hit in a long time and craved it so badly. You knelt over his thighs and squeezed the sheets in front of you when the first blow came down on your ass.

"Do we need a safe word?" he realized after the first screech.

Tears stung your eyes but more importantly, you nearly came from the first smack. You were so desperate for more that you let out a quiet, "Mhm," hoping he'd offer one up.

"My safe word is banana," he suggested as he hit you again, a little harder this time so that your body moved forward in his lap. He palmed the fabric and drove it over your ass before yanking down your panties to see the reddened skin. His touch was soft as he rubbed it...as he waited for you to settle. "Can you say banana for me, baby? I need to make sure you're verbal."

"Bana...na," you gasped when a third smack came down on your bare bottom. This one stung worse than the last and the tears fell down your cheeks.

When his hand slid through your cunt to test how much you liked being spanked, you quivered.

"Dirty, dirty girl," he shamed with another smack. This time your yelp was more like a scream, and he rolled you over to straddle him while hushing you. "You're soaking my pants baby," he complained. "You like being used this much?"

You blushed shyly and nodded against his neck, still coming down from the high of the moment. Shame bubbled in your chest, and you briefly wondered why this was what turned you on. You often sank into this horrible mindset, but then he kissed you, and you realized Mingyu contained the nuance needed to remind you that even while used you were adored.

"Can I take this off?" he asked as he tugged on your dress between kisses.

You wiped your tears and laughed as you'd just escaped a man who asked such questions. "You don’t need permission," you told him with your arms raised. He slid the dress up and over your body with a shrug.

"You needed another moment to calm down, and I was hoping to see that beautiful smile of yours before fucking you," he smiled. God his smile was beautiful. "And now that I see how fucking sexy you are...I'm a little concerned you won't be able to take me."

"Every man that has told me that was the size of my pinky finger Mingyu," you laughed...only to be proven wrong when he pushed his pants and boxers down to reveal the biggest dick you'd ever seen.

"You'd have to have a pretty fucked up pinky finger," he joked as he settled between your legs.

You squirmed so you could feel him better and kissed him just as desperately as you had at the bar. Mingyu was all passion and need, and he was more than capable of giving you the high you needed.

"Do you kiss your boss like this?" you teased.

Mingyu pulled away with his jaw open in surprise and eyes shining in amusement. "Of course you're a brat."

"I'm only a brat when my partner isn't doing a good job of shutting me up," you fought back, heart racing when you noticed his cock twitch. He liked this...which meant he'd punish you for it.

"You have no idea how many ways to do that just crossed my mind," he cocked his brow as he drove his cock up and down your slick to tease you. Your legs went wider as if to permit him.

"It can't be that many if I'm still talking, can it?"

Mingyu smirked and kissed you again, his eyes dark as night when he pulled back. "Turn around."

You eagerly followed his instructions and got on all fours. "Doggy style? That's your idea?" you taunted.

"No," he groaned as he spanked you and pushed your body flat against the bed. You wondered what he was doing but suddenly felt his belt wrap around your thighs before he pulled them tight.

"Mingyu..." you whimpered, unsure what he was planning as this was completely new to you.

"Still talking?" he asked as he dragged your feet over the bed's corner to bend you over the mattress.

You squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of the first thrust and groaned when you felt his palm spank your clit.

"No words?" he asked before doing it again. "No wit?"

You had never met someone so good at this before. "Mingyu," you begged, hands gripping his comforter for dear life.

"Good girl, that is my name baby," he praised, which caught you off guard...but not as much as his thick, length cock slamming into you and stealing your breath away. "Now scream it."

You tried to spread your legs to give him more room but the belt kept you tight for him. Mingyu slammed into you repeatedly as if you were a toy to be discarded after one use. He was trying to break you...and he was fucking great at it.

The bed shook a few inches off the box spring from how rough he was being, but he didn't seem to mind. He yanked the whole mattress back and fucked you just as hard until it happened a second and third time.

"Mingyu," you cried, face dripping in tears from the pain of being stretched so much. It hurt so good that you weren't sure you'd find anyone better. This random stranger that you'd plucked for his stupid pouty face had surprised you.

"I'm the best, aren't I?" he grunted. You weren't sure if he was talking to you or his boss, but you moaned in agreement. "Fuck you're so tight," he complained as he smacked your ass sharply over the welts from earlier.

"Mingyu!" you pleaded. You needed to cum but didn't know what tricks he had up his sleeve (if any) that could push you over that ever elusive edge.

"Hands behind your back," he demanded, snatching them from in front of you to hold them. He used it for leverage to pull your chest up so he could watch your tits bounce in the mirror across from him.

You caught sight of him, too...of the sweat beading on his forehead, of his lips parted in shaky breaths...

"You gonna cum?" he asked when he saw the redness in your cheeks and the desperation in your gaze.

You shook your head from side to side, one last bratty impulse just to see how he'd react. It shocked you when his hand clasped around your throat to pull your back flush against his chest. It surprised you more when he sucked your earlobe and forced you to look at yourself being used by him... mascara-stained cheeks and all.

"You're going to cum," he demanded. "Because I said so," he rasped.

You shook your head again with a strangled moan, and fought as long as you could when he released your hands to snake his hand around your waist.

He slapped your cheek before rubbing your clit, his voice even rougher this time when he demanded it of you. "Cum."

You couldn't fight it this time. He squeezed your throat and stole your breath, filling you when he felt your cunt pulsing around him as you came. The high was unlike anything you'd ever felt, and he held your throat to prolong that high until you were dizzied and unable to use your vision.

He undid the belt once he was done and helped guide you to the bed where he held you. You found yourself cuddling against him and resting your cheek on his dampened chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a kiss to your forehead.

"Mhm," you answered in exhaustion. You hadn't been fucked that well in a long time...maybe not ever.

"Can I hold you while you sleep?" he asked softly.

"Banana," you grinned with a kiss to his chest.

He chuckled, sounding so adorable that you used the last of your energy to look up at his bright smile. "Banana?" he asked.

"Don't ask to hold me, Mingyu. Just do it."

a pit of guilt grows in jisung’s gut. he promised you months ago that he’d take it slow. he broke that promise the moment it got too difficult to keep his dick in his pants. months ago, you would barely make out with him. you were so shy when it came to being intimate. but slowly, you got more used to it. slowly. 

he promised you that your first time together would be at the right moment. and he begged to get your pussy in his mouth before you were ready. he was such an awful boyfriend.

at least, that’s what he thought. 

jisung was oblivious to the lust that clouded your mind the following days. the way you’d wake up in the morning, only to feel slick between your thighs from the wet dreams the night before. the way you’d be going about your day, and suddenly the image of your boyfriend rubbing his dick on your pussy flashes in your mind. or the way you fantasize at night about how it’d feel to experience it all over again–his tongue, his fingers. how you'd fall asleep to the thought of his cock inside you.

he started a fire inside you without even knowing, and he needed to quell it before you lost your mind.

he’s barely even went further than kissing you since he ate you out. you know that jisung is scared to force you. but you also know that you’re ready. 

instead of asking him to fuck you, like any rational person would do, you decide the best way to what you want is to seduce him into it. it isn’t hard. really, it’s stupid easy. even a virgin can do it. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

when jisung gets into your apartment, all he wants to do is cuddle you while you stroke his hair. it’s one of the tamer things he’s been dreaming of all day. 

“baby?” he says, and shuts your apartment door. it’s silent. “baby?”

“bedroom.” is all you reply. when he opens the door, he pauses. he definitely had something to say with the way his mouth hangs open, but as soon as he sees you it’s thrown out the window. you see his adams apple bob as he swallows, and takes in the sight of you: naked except for a thin, cropped camisole and panties, your sweatshirt barely covering your arms before it falls to the floor.

“jisung.” you try your best to keep the amusement out of your voice. 

“shit! sorry, baby.” he snaps out of it quickly, adverting his gaze to the wall behind you. half of his thoughts for the past week come back to him all at once. seeing you barely covered makes the blood rush to his face, and his dick. it’s an instant reminder of how he had you just a week ago. he doesn’t look back to you, he might be strong enough mentally, but his dick sure isn’t. traitor.

“how was your day?” you're so casual about it, sauntering up to him and hugging him like you're not practically naked in front of him. like your tits don't press up against his chest when you hug him tightly.

“good. it was good. i missed you.” he's trying to stay calm. keep his dick from flying out of his pants like some deranged, horny adolescent who just discovered porn.

“yeah? still wanna cuddle like you wanted to earlier?” you ask, referencing a text he sent you a few hours ago.

screw his dick, his heart needed you more.

jisung sits on your bed, his back resting against the headboard. he watches as you climb into his lap, bare thighs against his sweats. you're so warm, and you smell so good… you're gonna kill him one day.

the moment your hands are in his hair, he's taking a deep, grounding breath. he loves when you play with his hair, it's the perfect stress relief for him. his girl, all pretty in his lap, running her fingers through his hair. dream come fucking true.

jisung can't help the low groan that escapes his lips as he adjusts his position. his arms wrap around you, shifting you in his lap so you're not sitting on his dick.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters. his eyes are shut, teeth biting at his lip to keep himself quiet.

it's cute, really. how worked up your boyfriend gets over you. you can't help but kiss the corner of his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as you try to push things further.

“kiss me, jisung?” the way you ask him is so sweet, so innocent sounding. like you don’t have a plan (you do) and all the pieces aren’t falling into place (they are). he can't resist, leaning up to kiss you short, sweet, and chaste. 

it's not enough. you take charge, kissing him and shifting in his lap to get a better angle. he gets the message, and lets you lead the kiss. in no time you're deepening it, your tongue in his mouth, and jisung's quick to pull back, your unusual boldness finally catching him off guard. 

“you good, baby?”

“mhm.”

“really?”

“you haven't kissed me in forever.” you're quick to defend yourself with a pout. forever, a week… same thing.

“c'mon, baby. you know i don't wanna rush you… i wanna take it slow with you, you asked me that and i'm doing my best…” he's looking at you like you’re too good for him, or he’s too bad for you. “you really don't know how hard that is for me, sometimes.” he mutters, eyes averting away from you. his hands come to rest on your hips, and it illustrates his point: he can't keep his hands off you.

“you're so gorgeous… prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. and you've got no idea how badly i just wanna push you down on the bed and fuck you sometimes.” jisung takes his hands off you, like they'll betray him. his hands ball up into fists at his sides. “you deserve someone who's able to wait for you, patiently.”

you don't like the implication of jisung's words. that you might ‘deserve’ someone better than him. your hands reach for his wrists, and guide his hands back to your body where they currently belong.

“i don't want anyone else, jisung, only you. it felt good when you ate me out. i liked it. i want more.” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “fuck me. please?” you ask, thumbing over his cheeks. your eyes are so warm, so full of love for your just slightly perverted boyfriend.

“i don't wanna make you wait anymore. i'm ready now. please? i want it.”

jisung can't resist you: his dick is throbbing in his sweats, his mind clouded because you look so damn good on his lap. you're begging him to take your virginity. you’re clearing up the doubt and guilt in his mind. who is he to deny you any further? 

“i love you.” he grins, shaking his head. his hands travel up from your hips to your waist, and he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “lie down, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re quick to push yourself off his lap, and lie down beside his sitting form. there’s an air of excitement bouncing between you two as he kneels between your legs. he sits back to admire you beneath him. 

the way your hair lies behind you, the eager look in your eyes, the gloss of your lips from the messy kiss you shared. the way your top scrunches up beneath your tits, the strap barely falling off your shoulder. It’s the little nuances of your appearance that have him feeling like the wind’s been knocked from his lungs, and he wants to commit that beauty to memory, write about it like he’ll ever find the right words to describe you.

debauched. hot. perfect. ‘mine’. 

he can’t control himself, hands wandering your body to brush up your thighs. they reach your ribs and begin pushing up your top, freeing your tits for him to grope and tease. he takes in the way your breath catches, notes the things he does what makes you react. you’re so reactive and all he’s done is feel you up.

“shh… baby, i know…” he whispers as he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger to give it a rough pinch. “want it so bad, right? want me to just put it in?” 

you nod. he’s worked you up quickly. “not yet. my girl deserves a special first time. i can’t just put it in. what kind of boyfriend would i be?”

“but, ji–” jisung’s hands trailing down your ribcage to your hips. his thumbs soothe over the skin, but his grip is firm, and keeps you in your place. 

“don’t be a brat.” the sudden sternness in his voice has you shutting up immediately. you don’t think he’s ever spoken to you with such strictness… it turns you on. with that, he stands, and pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

“let me take care of you.” his voice is softer as he speaks and drops to his knees on the floor. he ends all your thoughts of impatience the moment he begins kissing up your inner thighs. “gotta prep my girl first, okay?”

there’s a gentleness in his touch, as he spreads your thighs a little wider, taking in the sight of you. as if he didn’t make you cum on his tongue with no regards for your virgin status just a week ago. “relax f’me.”

he spreads your pussy open with two fingers, and in seconds there’s a slow, wet trail of his spit dripping down your clit. jisung starts with slow, gentle licks that have you melting into his touch. he works up a fire inside you that spreads with every deep shallow breath, every barely audible whine from your lips. when your wetness and his saliva are all glistening across his chin, he pulls away. “how’s it feel, pretty girl?”

“good.” you breathe out, and suck in a deep breath. “want more.” you roll your hips, desperate to get his mouth back on you. 

"yeah? more what?” jisung rubs your thighs, giving you a break whether you like it or not. it’s a form of self control for himself as well, he can’t get lost in eating you out if he stops. “what do you want more of, baby? tell me.”

honestly, you don’t know. you just want more of the feeling he’s giving you, the fire that builds slowly and threatens to take your breath away. luckily, jisung is more than happy to give you options. “want more of my mouth? or do you want to try my fingers?”

“just wanna feel good.” you decide, and jisung smiles. you’re cute, and you trust him with to make you feel good, even if you don’t know what you want. he’s eager now, your plea spurring him on. jisung teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly inserts it as he begins to suck on your clit. it’s not enough, not for jisung. as soon as he feels you relaxing around one finger, he’s quick to insert anther. it’s not a hard stretch. not when your pussy’s being so greedy, sucking in his fingers as he sucks on your clit. 

all the while you’re moaning his name so sweetly, rutting your hips up into his mouth like he’s just a pillow for you to hump. “fuck, baby…” he’s moaning into your pussy, reaching his arms beneath your thighs to pull you closer.

“ji…” the way you moan his name is obscene. he wants to hear it again.

“cum on my tongue.” it’s somewhere between a command and a plea. however he asks, he needs to see it again, feel it again–fuck, he needs to taste it again. “cum on my tongue and you can have my dick, baby. ‘s all yours.” 

it’s not lost on him that you’re close when your hands reach for his hair, tugging in a way that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. he knows before you do, and he’s doing all he can to make you tip over the edge. 

“please–” 

the fire he coaxes within you builds and builds. until you’re warm to the touch and can’t speak anything but his name in broken moans. he holds you down when you cum, your hips fighting against his strength as his fingers fuck you through it.

“good girl… that’s my good girl…” he praises. his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every frame of you as you come undone on his fingers. once your breathing calms, and you lie still on the bed, his eyes trail down to your pussy. his fingers gather the wetness of your cunt and pull out in tandem with your whine of “too much!”

“look at you, baby…” he coos as he stands. “that’s my good girl, cumming on my tongue so pretty for me.” his clean hand trails up your body, and rests against your throat. his hand is warm, almost weightless as it rests above your throat. it’s oddly grounding for you.

“made such a mess, though…” an idea pops into his head.  “you ever taste yourself, baby?” you shake your head no. jisung brings two fingers up to your lips. “go ahead.” he brushes the slick pads of his fingers against your bottom lip.

“clean up the mess you made.”

jisung groans as you take his fingers into your mouth. He can’t recall seeing a sweeter sight in his life. the way you look up at him, eyes wide and glossy as his fingers hit the back of your throat. you don’t stop though. you keep sucking, even beginning to bob your head a little and it goes straight to his dick.

he’s enjoying this too much.

jisung slides his fingers out of your mouth, and runs the same hand through his hair. “feel good?” he takes note of the look on your face, so fucked out already. you nod. it’s not a good enough response for him. “talk to me.” he’s gentle as he speaks, and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“feels good, ji.” you sigh, and shut your eyes. 

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“want more? or are you done for the night?” jisung’s thumb caresses your cheek, the other hand sits softly at your waist.

“more, please?” 

“of course, baby. you did so good for me. i promised you i’d give you my cock, didn’t i? gotta give my pretty girl what she wants.” it makes him impatient, to know that he has you prepped and eager for him. but he has to start slowly. 

he pushes his sweats down beneath his thighs, too impatient to fully take them off. he fists his heavy cock in his hands as the tip prods at your entrance. 

“gonna put it in now, okay?” he doesn't give you much time to think about it and before you can reply, he's pushing in. 

“jisung…” your eyes shut as you moan his name, and jisung watches the way your pussy welcomes him. you watch jisung: the hungry look in his eyes, the messiness of his hair, the way he breathes deep and slow as he takes you. half his cock is nestled inside you when he finally breaks the silence.

“you're doing so good, baby…” he mutters, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “taking me so well…” 

it's then that he starts to thrust. calculated and slow strokes that have you gasping as clenching around him. jisung is captivated. his eyes are glued onto the way you suck him in. he's barely able to keep himself from fucking into you deeper. 

your eyes wander down from taking in jisung's expressions, to the way his hips fuck into you with all the restraint he has. it makes you want more, want to feel him completely.

“more,” it's not an ask or a plea. it's a demand. you keen into his touch, and your eyes lock. “i want it all.” 

jisung laughs. he can't help it, you're cute. “more, baby? you want all my cock?” he teases and slowly begins to pull out.

“yes!” you whine, “jisung, please?”

it's cute. you're so desperate for him. it's hypocritical almost. he's using all his self control trying not to fuck you like he's a fucking rabbit in heat.

without any warning, he's grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. he slides into you, slowly. he groans as he bottoms out. you reach out to grip the sheets, but he's quick to grasp your hand instead.

“good job, baby. fuck, pussy's made for me–hold my hand, pretty girl…”

jisung pulls back and he swears he sees stars. “fuck…” he doesn't know how much longer he can control himself. his thrusts are deep and slow, falling into the familiar routine he fucked you with earlier. 

it's not enough for you. not enough pleasure to satiate the fire hes stoking inside of you. “more.” you demand. “more, ji.” something snaps in him. he’s quick to fulfill your request, fucking into you faster. 

“so dirty, baby. never been fucked before and already can’t get enough.” you can’t deny his words, or respond. all you do is moan his name again and arch into his touch.

“close?” you mutter, almost unsure of when your own orgasm is coming. with that, jisung spreads your pussy open with his fingers, and spits right on your clit. the high pitched whine that leaves your lips makes him smirk. 

“i know, baby.” his fingers work fast circles against your clit, and he feels the way you tense and squirm against his touch. “too much!” and it’s not. jisung knows it’s not. it’s just enough.

 “cum for me, baby.” and you do: with little whines and moans of his name, with little rolls of your hips to chase the pleasure he’s giving you. you’re clenching around him like a vice, each flutter of your pussy brings him closer to cumming, and he’s already trying his best to hold off.

he can’t take it anymore. jisung pulls out quickly and fists himself as he cums on your tummy. “that’s my girl… did so well.” he praises, his free hand soothing over your hip. 

jisung watches as you come down from your high. you're so pretty. his pretty girl. all ruined. your hair's a mess. the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. his cum all over your tummy.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks with a soft smile on his face. 

“good,” you nod, a barely there smile on your face as you reach for his hand. “more than good.” 

you tug his hand, trying to pull him down to cuddle you. it's a signal that jisung responds to immediately. he's pulling you to the side to spoon you. 

one hand rests against your tummy, and he rests your head against his other arm. he kisses your nape, then your shoulder, then rests his head against you. it’s peaceful. 

“i love you, jisung.”

“i love you, baby.”

“fuck, ‘m sorry, baby.” jisung whines into your neck as he ruts his cock against your wet panties. he’s got one hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. you’ve both soaked your panties, his precum and the wetness from your pussy make it almost uncomfortably sticky.

“god, ‘m so fuckin’... gross.” he rambles, pulling himself up to spit on his cock. he watches it slide off the side of his tip and down your ass. “making a mess of your poor pussy just to get myself off.”

“hannie…” your moan has him rolling his eyes back. you can’t remember how you ended up beneath him, just that you didn’t want it to stop yet. It wasn’t enough. and yet you were trying to find it in you to tell him to slow down, it’s what you wanted after all. to take it slow, wait until ‘the right time’ for your first time with jisung. that went out the window the moment he started feeling you up today.

“i know… said i'd keep my pretty girl all pure for a little longer.”

but jisung’s cock throbs at the sight of you all defiled. your hair is a mess from when he shoved you down on the bed and had his hands all up in it when he kissed you earlier. your makeup is smudged, mascara messy from the way tears well up in your eyes and spill when his cockhead rubs against your clit just right. your lipstick blurs around your lips from the sloppy kisses you shared. he begged you not to wear a bra this morning when you got dressed, it made your tits even easier for him to access. all he had to do was pull down your little tank top and they were all his. your skirt is pushed up, soft tummy peeking out. and your pussy, so wet for him already and he’s still one layer away. 

“look at you… so nasty f’me.”

“can i take off your panties? please, baby?” jisung stops rutting against your clothed pussy and gives a couple hard taps against your clit. “know it’s dirty, baby. but it’ll feel good, okay?”

all you want at this point is to feel good–screw everything else–so you nod and lift your hips so he can slide your panties off your legs.

You try to shut your legs but jisung is quicker. both of his hands keep your thighs open. “let me see that pretty pussy, don’t hide it from me.” he’s quick to spit on it again, and this time you can’t help the high pitched moan that escapes your lips. 

“did your exes ever spit on it, baby?”

you shake your head, hands coming to cover your flushed face. nobody’s ever touched you like jisung has. you've kissed your exes, dry humped, even came from it too. but jisung's the only one who's touched you so intimately, and a part of him hopes it stays that way.

“like it?” he asks and you don’t respond. is it wrong to say you liked it? it’s gross, you think. it’s so so gross… but is it wrong?

warm saliva hits your pussy again, this time you can feel jisung’s breath on you. 

“do you like it when i spit on your pussy, baby?”

“... yes…” you respond, and finally pry your arms away from your face. jisung’s laying down on the bed, hands pressed against your thighs to keep them open. he can’t decide what's a sweeter sight, your glistening pussy or your wide eyes. for now, his eyes lock with yours.

“fuck…” jisung whispers. his eyes fall back to your pussy with a smile. he licks his lips and lets his head fall against the blankets.

“ji?” you reach for his hand, and as soon as he feels your hand on his he’s grasping it, and raising his head up to kiss your knuckles. 

“i know you wanna take it slow… but please, please can i eat you out, baby? ‘s all i want.”

jisung agreed to take it slow, but he's got you half dressed and soaking your bed. maybe you should be mad, but god, the pleasure jisung was giving you was addicting. you weren’t afraid to give yourself away to him at this point.

“i want it.” you nod, and jisung kisses your hand again.

“gotta give my girl what she wants then, yeah?”

Your head is spinning with his scent. You truly didn’t expect him to react like this when he saw the bento box. One minute he was hugging you from behind littering your neck with sweet kisses of gratitude and the other you’re bent over the counter with Chan ramming into you from behind, thick enough to press every ridges inside you.

Your knees buckled a long time ago, now, the only thing holding you up was Chan’s hand wrapped tightly around your neck. “Fuck you feel so good. Exactly what I needed to start my day.” Your moans bounced off of the walls filling the room with the sweet symphony of you.

The wet slapping of your skin with his was damn near hypnotic. “Such a good girl making lunch for me this early. I’m gonna do you a favor and fuck you right back to sleep yeah?”

“Chris please” You don’t even know what begging for anymore. Your mind is too foggy to think and your body is numb with that beautiful pressure building deep inside of you. “You gonna cum for me pretty girl?” He knows you’re too far gone to answer but he still asks you anyway. And the way you’re pulsing around him already gave him his answer.

“That’s it beautiful, let go for me” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as pure serenity washes over you. Chan groans in response to you gripping him like a vice and his thrusts begin picking up in pace. “Channie I can’t!” You cry out.