#between rooms

You settled in faster than expected. Most of the guys welcomed you easily. It took a little more time with Yeosang and Yunho, but even they opened up eventually.

What you didn’t expect, though, was how hot and intense things could get with them.

And god, was it hot.

You always knew your libido was higher than most, none of your exes had ever been able to keep up. But these men?

They were something else entirely.

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While you were close with everyone and enjoyed the chaotic energy the boys brought into the house, it was always a welcome change of pace to spend time with Jongho. He brought you calm when you needed it most.

He was one of the first to really catch on to your personality, what you liked, what you didn’t, and when you needed space. Somehow, he always knew when you were overwhelmed, upset, or just off. You never had to say much, he just read you.

Jongho was also one of the first people in the house you felt comfortable being vulnerable with. That meant everything.

When you two hung out, it was peaceful. There was no pressure to talk or fill the silence. Sometimes you’d walk into his room and flop onto his beanbag; sometimes he’d find his way into yours and do the same. It didn’t have to mean anything. Just sharing space felt good.

Tonight, you were in his room, laid out across his oversized beanbag in nothing but an oversized dress tee, flipping lazily through a soft romance manga. Jongho sat at his PC, playing League and chatting with his friends, his calm voice drifting through the dim, LED-lit space.

You could feel your eyelids growing heavier as the minutes passed. The room was warm, his voice was soothing, and the manga in your hands wasn’t helping, the sweet intimacy on the page only stirred your own craving for closeness.

You set the book aside and got up, padding over to Jongho without a word. You climbed into his lap easily, straddling him on his roomy desk chair, snuggling into his chest with your head resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything, just gave your head a soft pat and kept gaming, this was nothing new.

But your sleepiness brought something else with it.

Neediness.

Your hips shifted in his lap, slowly, just enough to press yourself down and feel him underneath you. You clung to the front of his shirt as you moved lazily, breath warming the side of his neck.

Jongho paused for just a second.

Then he let out a heavy sigh.

He pursed his lips, refocused on the screen, and gave a few quick callouts to his team, voice low, a little tighter now.

You felt him growing beneath you.

A moment later, he muted his mic.

“Did you come here to cuddle,” he murmured, voice flat but teasing, “or to get yourself off on me?”

You only hummed and buried your face deeper into his neck, lips brushing his skin. He turned his mic back on without waiting for an answer.

Your hips moved again, this time more deliberately. Your breath was hot, needy, and his body responded easily.

The second the game ended, Jongho didn’t hesitate, he closed it, pulled off his headset, and turned all of his attention on you.

His hands gripped your waist, pressing you down harder against him. His own hips began to move, slow and measured, meeting yours with precision.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into your ear, voice just above a whisper.

You nodded, your fingers twisting into his shirt, your hips now rolling with urgency.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy, you know that?”

You didn’t respond, but your face burned against his neck. He smiled faintly and stopped your motion, keeping your hips firmly in place.

“Let me see your pretty face.”

You hesitated, just for a second, before pulling away, lips parted, eyes half-lidded, cheeks warm.

“Pretty.”

With one hand he caressed your face, thumb brushing over your cheek as you leaned into his touch. Then he slipped his other hand down into your panties, fingers teasing your sensitive clit. You gasped softly, body tensing in his lap.

Your hands tightened on his shoulders as your forehead pressed to his, your shaky breath puffing out against his skin.

Your whimpers only made him want to give you more.

Jongho was always a giver, he didn’t need much for himself. Watching you fall apart in his hands was more than enough.

He kissed you then, slow, heated, possessive. One hand kept you pressed close while the other dipped lower, fingers slipping inside you, moving with a slow intensity.

You moaned into the kiss, hips twitching, heat building in your core.

His fingers curled just right, pressing against your sweet spot. Your body arched into him instinctively, lips parting again for another broken moan.

“Look at you, melting like sugar on my tongue,” he murmured, voice low and full of praise, fingers working deeper, faster, until all you could do was melt for him.

Your moans spilled freely now, soft and breathy against his lips. Each curl of his fingers sent another jolt of pleasure surging through your body, building slow and steady, like a heat that wouldn’t let go.

You couldn’t think, you could barely breathe. His forehead pressed to yours, his gaze steady even as your eyes fluttered.

Then his fingers hit just the right spot, making your eyes roll back with a sweet moan leaving your lips.

“Yeah?” he whispered. “Right there?”

You nodded quickly, barely able to form words, whimpering as your hips moved with him, chasing the rhythm, chasing the high.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “Don’t hold back.”

His thumb began to circle your clit while his fingers thrust deep, slow at first, then faster as your legs trembled around his waist. You were gasping now, body twitching in his lap as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re getting so tight,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “Come on, baby, just let go.”

Your breath hitched sharply, and that was it.

You cried out softly as your orgasm hit you, your whole body tensing before melting into him. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, thighs clenching, your face burying into the side of his neck as you shook against him.

He kept moving gently, coaxing every wave of your release until your body gave a final, shuddering breath and collapsed in his arms.

“That’s it…” he whispered, easing you through it. “You did so good, pretty girl.”

You clung to him, your head heavy against his shoulder.

He held you there for a moment, stroking your back and brushing his lips against your temple. Then, without a word, he lifted you effortlessly as he stood up off the chair.

You let out a tired, dazed hum, curling against his chest as he carried you across the room and laid you down on his bed.

Jongho climbed in beside you, pulling the blanket up over your legs before gathering you into his arms again with your head resting against his chest. One of his hands slipped into your hair, the other rested against your waist, firm and steady.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to.

His warmth, the soft rhythm of his breathing, the quiet strength in his hold. All of it lulled you into sleep.

And just before you drifted off completely, you felt his lips press against the top of your head.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

And so you did. Jongho’s presence was always comforting—he made you feel small in the best way, like you could finally shut your brain off and everything would still be okay, because he would take care of you. Around him, you never had to worry. He made sure you felt safe, steady, and cared for.

Even though you were a year older, Jongho always had a way of making you feel like the younger one.

The next morning, you woke up before him. After a shower and your usual routine, you slipped into your bathrobe, towel-dried hair still slightly damp against your neck. Padding softly back to his room, you hoped he was awake so the two of you could head down for breakfast together, but when you eased the door open, Jongho was still sprawled across his bed, hair all messy, lips parted, breathing slow and even. You couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

Quietly, you crossed the room and leaned over him, reaching out to poke his cheek.

“Jongho, it’s already nine in the morning. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

He let out a groggy, whiny groan in protest. You poked him again. Then again.

“I’m not gonna stop bothering you until you wake up.”

He reached out suddenly, his hand wrapping around your wrist before tugging you down onto the bed with him. You let out a muffled protest as your face landed against his chest, but Jongho only pulled you in tighter, tossing the blanket over the both of you like he was locking you in.

“I’m going to need you to shut that pretty little mouth of yours and let me sleep a few more minutes,” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

You pouted but gave in, shifting until your head found its place against his chest. One arm draped lazily over his waist, your leg hooked comfortably against his as he pulled you in tighter. His arm stayed snug around you, warm and heavy, anchoring you in place.

The room fell quiet again, soft with the sound of his steady breathing. But your mind refused to follow. You were wide awake, thoughts buzzing, eyes flicking restlessly toward the wall. You tried closing them, tried to match his calm rhythm, but not even five minutes passed before you let out an exaggerated huff, already bored of pretending to nap.

Your fingers wandered absentmindedly, sketching little shapes across his abs before drifting up to his chest. You watched it rise and fall with each steady breath, steady as if nothing could disturb him. Spotting his hardened nipples, you smirked and flicked one, curious if it would make him stir.

Nothing.

So you kept at it, teasing with light taps, nothing sexual, just entertaining yourself.

When you shifted, your knee brushed against the unmistakable outline of his morning wood. The grin on your face grew wider. Your fingers trailed back down his chest, drumming playfully over his stomach until they slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers. You were only amusing yourself, not really expecting anything, until his voice, low and groggy, rumbled out.

“Behave.”

You looked up with a playful pout, his eyes were still closed, so you let out a small whine.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you talking right now? Go back to sleep.” 

He didn’t bother answering, his arm only tightening slightly around you as if to keep you still.

Of course, you didn’t listen. Your knee nudged against him again, this time on purpose, while your fingers lingered beneath the waistband of his boxers. You traced aimless little touches there, not quite committing, just enough to see if he’d react.

He gave a soft groan, more annoyed at being disturbed than anything else, but still refused to open his eyes.

“Are you ignoring me?” you whispered dramatically, fingertips brushing along the sensitive skin just under the fabric.

Silence.

You dragged your nails lightly, testing him.

“Jongho.” Nothing.

It was obvious he was awake, but he was determined to play dead.

You let a finger trail lightly along his length, the softest graze meant more to provoke than to please. Still, nothing.

You huffed quietly, impressed but also challenged by how easily he ignored you. If he wanted to play it that way, fine. Two could play that game.

Your touch grew bolder, fingers brushing back down before tracing him again with a little more pressure. When he still didn’t react, a mischievous grin curved your lips. You tease his tip a bit, just to see if he’d break.

“Wow,” you whispered under your breath, leaning closer. “You’re really just going to ignore me, huh?”

At last, his voice rumbled low, thick with sleep.

“Noona… behave.”

Finally, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, thick and heavy in your hand. You gave a slow stroke, your hand sliding lazily up and down his length.

“I don’t wanna~” you teased.

His fingers tightened on your shoulder, a heavy sigh slipping out, edged with reluctant pleasure.

“Always have to get what you want, huh?”

You giggled at his words, then leaned down to swipe your tongue across his nipple.

“Are you saying you don’t want it?” you murmured against his skin before latching your lips around his nipple. You sucked gently, flicking your tongue with a hum that vibrated against his chest, hand still giving his cock attention.

This time, his body reacted despite him trying to stay composed. His chest rumbled with a quiet groan, and his hand slid up from your shoulder to the back of your head. At first, he only rested it there, fingers threading loosely through your hair while you continued to tease. But little by little his grip firmed, guiding you down.

Your strokes slowed, and instead of resisting you went along with it, lips curving into a small smile. Letting go of him just long enough, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down, freeing him completely.

His cock lay heavy against his stomach, thick and flushed, and you wrapped your hand around him again, stroking in a slow, easy rhythm. Jongho exhaled deeply, the sound closer to a sigh than a groan, his hand still resting at the back of your head.

You let him guide you lower, unhurried, your lips brushing softly along the underside of his length before placing a slow kiss at the tip. He shifted faintly beneath you, chest rising with a quiet breath, but made no effort to rush you. His fingers simply stayed threaded in your hair, steady and patient, letting you set the pace even as he reminded you of his presence.

You followed with another kiss, then another, teasing before finally parting your lips and taking him into your mouth.

Jongho’s chest rose with a deeper breath, a quiet groan slipping out despite his effort to stay composed. His fingers tightened just a little in your hair, not forcing, only reminding you he was there.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep, warm with approval.

You hummed around him, sinking lower, easing more of his thickness past your lips. His breath grew heavier, filling the quiet room as his hips shifted the slightest bit, matching your slow rhythm.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his hand combing slowly through your hair before settling again, palm warm against your scalp. “Take a little more for me.”

You obeyed, sliding further down his length, and the groan that rumbled out of him was deeper this time, slipping past his composure. His hand stroked lazily through your hair, fingertips grazing your scalp in a rhythm as steady as his breathing.

“My baby is doing so well,” he murmured, voice husky but gentle, praise melting into another sigh. His thumb brushed over the back of your head, not pushing, just caressing as if to soothe you.

Lying close against him, you stroked him with one hand while your mouth moved over him slowly, unhurried. Your body pressed to his side, your head bent down across him, and he threw an arm over his face as if to block out the morning light, or maybe just to savor the way you worked him.

Every so often you let him slip free, lips trailing light kisses along his length before taking him back in at your own pace.

Jongho’s breath grew heavier, chest rising steadily beneath the weight of your head. Low groans slipped from him, quiet but constant, vibrating through his chest and filling the stillness of the room. His fingers continued to drift lazily through your hair, gentle strokes that never rushed you, only reminded you how much he was enjoying every second.

Eventually you shifted, slipping from your place at his side to settle between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you let his cock slip from your mouth just long enough to speak, voice soft but needy.

“Go deeper… fuck my throat.”

Jongho finally moved his arm away from his face, heavy-lidded eyes meeting yours. His hand cupped the back of your head, thumb stroking along your hairline.

“Are you sure, pretty girl?” His voice was low and husky, tinged with sleep, but the concern beneath it was clear.

You nodded eagerly, lips parting again as you leaned down. That was all he needed. His grip firmed slightly, guiding you back onto him. He eased his hips up, sliding deeper into your mouth, filling your throat. Even then, he stayed steady and careful, his strokes deep but unhurried, never losing that gentleness even as he fucked your mouth the way you asked.

Each push drew a ragged breath from him, his other hand brushing over your cheek before returning to your hair, petting you as though to balance the weight of his cock stretching your throat.

The sensation pulled a rough breath from him, and he pushed himself up onto one elbow, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on you. Watching your lips stretch around his cock, the sight had his composure faltering almost instantly.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, breath shuddering as he felt your throat tighten around him. “Good girl… taking me so well.”

His movements were careful at first, each roll of his hips measured, giving you time to adjust. His thumb stroked over your temple, steadying you, while his voice spilled low encouragements.

“Relax… you’re perfect like this. Just like that.”

You hummed around him, the vibration pulling another groan from deep in his chest. His constant praise and sweet words melting you. His gaze stayed locked on you now, jaw tense as his control began to slip the longer he watched.

His gaze stayed locked on you, jaw tight as his breaths grew heavier. The slow roll of his hips deepened, strokes sliding further down your throat. Each thrust was still measured, but rougher now, enough to make your eyes water as you tried to take him all.

A tear slipped free, and Jongho caught it instantly. His hand left your hair just long enough to brush his thumb across your cheek, wiping it away.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice low but tender, coaxing. “So pretty, my sweet baby.”

He slowed, giving you a chance to breathe, his touch gentle against your face as he stroked another tear away. His thumb lingered there, caressing your cheek before his hand returned to rest over your head.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured, voice low and warm.. “Taking me so well… so perfect.”

Then he guided you back down, hips rolling again, his thrusts still deep as he picked up right where he left off. His breathing had grown heavier, chest rising quicker beneath the thin layer of sweat beginning to form. The low groans spilling from his throat were no longer controlled, each one rougher than the last as the pace built.

His hand stayed firm at the back of your head, not forcing, just grounding you, while the other gripped tightly onto the sheets beneath him. The sound of it was quiet but hot, slick and steady, filling the silence of the room.

“Fuck…” Jongho exhaled, his voice strained now, composure slipping as his thighs tightened beneath you. His gaze stayed locked on your lips wrapped around him, his jaw tense as the heat coiled tighter in his stomach.

He brushed a thumb across your damp cheek again, his tone low but careful as the words left him.

“You want me to finish in that pretty mouth, hm?”

You hummed around him in response, giving a small nod as your eyes lifted to meet his.

That was all he needed. His grip in your hair tightened, guiding you deeper as his hips rocked with more urgency. The pace grew rougher, his cock pushing further into your throat, each thrust breaking his restraint a little more. His breath came faster, ragged groans spilling freely now as his climax crept closer.

“God… just like that,” he rasped, head tipping back, the muscles in his stomach tightening beneath your hand.

With a final, shuddering thrust, he stilled, cock buried deep in your mouth as his release spilled down your throat. His groan was low and drawn out, chest heaving as he held you there through the waves of his orgasm.

When he began to come down from the orgasm, his grip loosened, and he guided you up. You climbed over him, settling on top of his chest, and Jongho immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His chest was still heaving, but his touch was tender, one hand stroking slowly up and down your back, the other combing gently through your hair.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “My sweet, pretty baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice still husky but filled with warmth.

You tilted your head up, brushing your lips over his in a lingering kiss. When you pulled back, your mouth curved into a playful smirk.

“Still want to go back to sleep?”

Jongho huffed out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating beneath you. “Not with you around,” he muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone, only fondness.

You giggled, resting your chin against his chest as his hand drifted lazily along your spine. He let out a long breath, tilting his head back into the pillow, and for a while neither of you spoke. 

When he finally looked down at you again, his thumb brushed over your cheek, eyes gentle. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him again, slow and tender this time. “Yeah,” you whispered against his lips, “but you love it.”

His laugh was muffled by the kiss as he tightened his arms around you, pulling you in until there was no space left between your bodies.

Maybe it was the first time you saw him handle a drunk customer. Firm voice. Rough handling. No hesitation when he dragged the guy out by the arm like he weighed nothing. You hadn’t expected to find that hot. But you did. Way hotter than you should have.

After that, you started noticing other things. How he leaned in when he talked to you. How he stood close even when there was plenty of space. How his touches lasted just a little longer than they used to.

And the tongue thing. Always sticking it out to mock you when you teased him or called him out. And when you caught him doing it, he’d just smirk like he was waiting for you to say something.

One night, the two of you were sprawled out on the sofas in the upstairs family room, lazily passing time with the Nintendo Switch.

You let out a sigh, dropping your controller onto your stomach.

“I’m boooored,” you whined, followed by a dramatic groan as you hung your head off the edge of the couch.

Mingi set his controller down and yawned. “Well, what do you wanna do?”

You shrugged, letting out a lazy hum. “I don’t know.”

The room fell quiet as you both sat in it, neither of you ready to get up, but also too restless to stay like this. Then Mingi spoke.

“Wanna go to the club? Heard there’s a good DJ in town tonight.”

You lifted your head, then pushed yourself upright with a stretch. “I’m down. Anything to get out of the house.”

A few minutes later, you both parted ways to your rooms to change.

You kept it simple, black ripped denim shorts, an olive green cropped tank with a few buttons undone, and just enough makeup to feel good. A bit of eyeliner and mascara, a hint of blush, and that strawberry gloss you liked because it tasted as good as it looked. After brushing down your hair, you headed downstairs and slipped on your black combat boots.

Mingi joined you soon after, pulling on his shoes. He was wearing a fitted black t-shirt that clung to his frame and a pair of low-slung jeans. Silver rings covered his fingers, and layered chains rested against his collarbones.

You’d always thought jewelry really suited him. Especially when he wore it like that. Confident. Effortless. Like he knew exactly how good he looked. Truthfully, he looked good in just about anything. With his height at 6 feet and the way he was built, he could be a model. Everything sat right on him. Clean lines, fitted clothes, heavy chains, rings on every other finger. It all worked. 

The two of you took an Uber into the city, the ride filled with lazy chatter and shared glances out the window. Once you were dropped off and made your way into the club, the first thing you did was head straight to the bar and take a shot together.

You danced the night away, sometimes with each other, sometimes with strangers, moving through the crowd, letting the music carry you. You had a few more drinks, the alcohol settling in just right, loosening your limbs and warming your blood. At one point, the two of you leaned against a wall, people-watching and making up dumb stories and assumptions about the strangers around you. It had you both laughing until your cheeks ached.

Eventually, you found your way back into the center of the packed dance floor. The lights flashed around you, the bass pulsing through your chest as you started moving again, letting the rhythm take over. Your body was loose, mind hazy in the best way, and you let yourself get lost in it.

You started dancing against Mingi, your hips rolling back into his as the beat slowed just enough to feel heavy. You didn’t miss the way his body responded, the way he stiffened behind you. That slight pressure made you smirk.

He turned you around, his hands finding your waist like it was second nature.

You moved together, the kind of motion that had your breath catching for no real reason. The music surrounded you, but your focus stayed on him.

Then you noticed it.

That damn tongue again.

He stuck it out just slightly, eyes half-lidded as he vibed with the music. Careless. Confident. Cocky. You let out a breath, scrunching your nose in irritation.

Without thinking, you pulled him down, mouth close to his ear.

“If you don't put that tongue away,” you said over the music, your voice firm and low, “there will be consequences.”

He gave a small shrug, leaning in to reply, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

When he pulled back, that smug grin was already on his face. Full of challenge. Full of trouble.

And he did it again.

Without thinking, almost on instinct, you grabbed his face and pulled him toward you. Your lips closed around his tongue, sucking on it without hesitation.

You felt Mingi smirk.

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in until your body was flush against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding on as the kiss deepened. He pushed his tongue further into your mouth, moving with purpose, playing with yours, asserting himself without saying a word.

A quiet sigh escaped from your nose, your chest rising as heat surged through you. You tilted your head, pressed in closer, and slipped your tongue past his, giving it right back to him. The way he responded, hungry but measured, sent a pulse straight between your legs.

Eventually, Mingi pulled back, breath warm and heavy against your lips. His eyes searched yours for a second, something sharp and unreadable flashing in them.

Then he grinned.

“Is that what you meant by consequences?” he asked, voice low, smug.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile.

But his hands didn’t leave your waist.

And he didn’t step back.

Instead, he leaned in again, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Just know… once you’ve got me started, I won’t want to stop.”

You bit down on your lip, a smirk forming on your lips. 

“Who said I’m going to stop you?”

His fingers twitched against your waist. Without another word, he guided you back through the crowd, weaving between bodies until your back met one of the columns near the center of the dance floor.

He dipped his head, lips finding your neck. He kissed slowly at first, soft and warm, then let his mouth open slightly, sucking gently on your skin. The sensation sent a shudder straight down your spine, your thighs pressing together without thinking.

His mouth trailed up, kissing along your jaw before finding your lips again. This time the kiss was heated, deeper, messier. All tongue and breath and friction.

His hands moved lower, and he nudged your thighs apart with his knee, sliding it between your legs. The pressure hit you immediately, and you moaned into his mouth. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt as you began to grind against his thigh, chasing the friction, the music still pounding around you but fading into the background. 

He chuckled into the kiss as your hips rolled harder, your movements turning needy, desperate. His hands gripped your waist just a little tighter. Then he pulled back, breath warm as he leaned in to press a soft kiss against your ear.

“You want me that bad?”

You nodded, your breath shaky.

He smiled against your skin. “Show me what you want.”

When he pulled back to look at you, your eyes met his. Dark, full of lust, locked in.

You dragged your hand down his chest, slowly, tracing the line of muscle beneath his shirt. You reached his waist, fingers sliding lower over the growing bulge straining against his jeans. You rubbed your palm over him in slow circles, teasing, watching for his reaction.

He was towering over you, broad shoulders shadowing your smaller frame. That look in his eyes, pure hunger, made your knees feel weak.

Your fingers made quick work of the button on his jeans, then tugged the zipper down with practiced ease. You slipped your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly, deliberately, feeling how hard he already was in your hand.

Mingi exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment as your hand moved against him. The music thumped around you, but all you could focus on was the weight of him in your palm, the warmth radiating from his skin through your fingers.

His hips rolled forward slightly, chasing the friction. He looked back down at you with a heavy, half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck,” he murmured, voice low enough to get lost under the bass. “You really don’t care where we are, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You just kept stroking him, slow, controlled, like you had all the time in the world.

Mingi’s hand slid down your back and over your ass, gripping it firmly before leaning in again, lips brushing over yours.

With your other hand still resting on his chest, you pulled him in closer and brought your mouth to his ear.

“I’m really hungry, Mingi. Can I have you?”

He let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest.

“If you’re hungry, baby, then eat up.”

You smiled up at him before sinking into a squat, letting the column at your back support you as you lowered yourself down in front of him. You reached into his jeans, tugging his boxers down just enough to free him.

He was bigger than you expected.

Your tongue dragged across your lips at the sight of it, mouth already watering.

You wrapped your fingers around his cock and tilted it upward, then leaned in and let your tongue trail slowly along his balls. You took one into your mouth, sucking gently before releasing it with a soft pop.

Then you licked a slow stripe up his shaft, teasing the tip once you reached it. You felt his cock twitch in your hand.

Mingi let out a heavy sigh above you, eyes locked on the way your tongue moved against him. His hand slid into your hair, holding it back from your face, but didn’t push, just held, letting you do what you wanted.

You took him into your mouth slowly, lips wrapping around the head as you began to bob your head, shallow at first. The weight of him, the heat, the slight curve, it all filled your mouth just right.

You took him deeper with each motion, letting him slide past your lips inch by inch as you built your rhythm.

His breath hitched, hips shifting slightly forward.

“Fuck... just like that.”

At this point, you’d both forgotten about the crowd still dancing around you. You didn’t care if anyone saw. Everyone was lost in their own drunk haze, too caught up in flashing lights and heavy bass to notice anything beyond themselves.

You pulled your head back briefly to catch your breath, a thin line of spit still connecting you to his cock. Then you leaned back in, this time relaxing your throat as you slowly took him deeper. Inch by inch, you worked forward until there was nothing left to take.

Mingi let out a low growl, his chest vibrating with the sound. His grip in your hair tightened, the other hand bracing against the column behind you to keep himself steady.

You moved your head in a slow, steady rhythm, your tongue pressed up along the underside of his cock. His fingers twitched in your hair as he fought to keep still, resisting the urge to take control. But you could feel it. The tension in his body. The way his hips flexed slightly forward. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

So you let out a low hum around his cock, the vibration deliberate and slow. You paused your motion, tongue still pressed to him, and looked up, waiting.

His eyes dropped to meet yours, and he cursed under his breath. You saw the moment he gave in. Without warning, he shoved your head forward, and you gagged softly around him. But you didn’t stop. You liked it. You wanted more.

He held you there for a beat before his hips began to move, slow at first, then a little deeper. 

You let out muffled moans around his cock, your throat stretched as you took him deeper. Your body was buzzing, your core pulsing with need. You were soaked, desperate to be touched, but all you could focus on was how good he felt against your tongue, how badly you wanted to make him come.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, your makeup likely a mess by now, eyeliner smudged, mascara running. But you didn’t care. You looked ruined, and it only made you want more.

His thrusts picked up, growing rougher. Not painful, but urgent. You could feel it in the way his hips snapped forward, the low groan vibrating in his chest. He was close.

You gripped his thighs tighter, moaning softly around him, giving him permission without saying a word. Begging for it.

That was all he needed.

He let out a harsh breath and held your head in place, hips jerking forward as he spilled into your throat. You swallowed without hesitation, keeping eye contact until the last twitch of his release faded.

He pulled out slowly, a few final drops trailing across your tongue before he tucked himself back into his jeans, breath still uneven.

Without saying a word, he leaned down and lifted you to your feet with ease, his hands firm around your waist. Your legs wobbled slightly, but he held you steady. Then his thumbs came up to your face, brushing the tear tracks from your cheeks, smudging your ruined makeup just a little more.

“You look fucking wrecked,” he murmured, eyes dark as he took you in.

But his thumbs didn’t stop moving.

And neither did the heat in his gaze.

He leaned in again, lips brushing over your ear, his voice low and thick with need.

“I’m not done with you.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your wrist and started moving. You followed without question, still dazed and aching from what just happened. He pushed past the crowd, dragging you through the pulsing lights and thumping bass, straight toward the back exit.

The heavy door creaked open, and a rush of cool night air hit your skin. The alley behind the club was dim, the only light coming from an overhead bulb and the occasional orange glow from the street beyond.

The second the door clicked shut behind you, Mingi spun you around and shoved you back against the wall, his mouth crashing onto yours. 

His fingers worked quickly to undo your shorts, tugging them open before slipping his hand inside and past the waistband of your panties. Two fingers dipped between your folds, and he let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Damn, baby... you’re soaking wet.”

His forehead rested against yours, the cool brush of his rings making you shiver as his fingers moved slowly, gathering your slick. A needy whimper slipped out at the contrast, his fingers burning hot against you while the cool bite of metal grazed just above.

“Feel that?” he murmured, voice low and amused. He adjusted his hand deliberately this time, tilting so the bands pressed against you with every stroke. The teasing weight of his rings made your thighs tense, hips rocking helplessly into his palm.

“Mingi—” your voice broke into a moan as he pressed harder, the blunt metal adding to the intensity. Your body trembled beneath his touch, torn between the warmth of his fingers on your clit and the cool drag of his rings against your mound.

Instead of pulling back, you pushed down harder, grinding yourself against his palm and the ridge of metal. His hands were so big and rough, the heavy silver rings making every brush sharper, and you realized how much you loved it. You were shamelessly using him, chasing the friction he gave you.

His fingers stilled, letting you take what you wanted, his gaze locked on your every movement.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lips brushing yours. “Getting yourself off on me like that… pretty little thing can’t get enough, huh?”

He licked his bottom lip, dark eyes locked on you as his free hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His look was half-lidded and intense, waiting.

“Say my name again.”

His voice dropped deeper, the gravel in it making your whole body shiver.

Before you could answer, his slick-coated fingers pushed inside you, slow at first, thick and deliberate. The cold edge of his rings pressed against your folds as he curled them just right and began to pump. You gasped sharply, clutching his bicep for balance as your knees nearly gave out.

“Fuck… Mingi, that feels so good—”

His pace picked up, thrusting harder, deeper, the blunt weight of his rings dragging against your entrance with every push.

“Again,” he demanded, voice rough.

“M-Mingi…” your moan broke, your head tipping back until it met the cold brick wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed.

“Open your eyes,” he growled, fingers slamming deeper as his thumb ground down on your clit.

“Don’t look away. I want to watch you break.”

You opened your eyes, your gaze locking with his again as he loomed over you. His free hand caught yours, fingers threading tight before he yanked your arm up and pinned it to the wall. He didn’t break eye contact once, the weight of his stare holding you captive.

His fingers drove deeper, curling and dragging perfectly against that sensitive spot. The wet sounds filled the alley, obscene and raw, echoing off the brick around you. Your legs shook, hips twitching with every stroke, your body betraying how close you were.

You tried to keep your eyes on his, but it was too much. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as release tore through you, sharp and overwhelming. Your body jerked, soaking his hand, slick spilling down your thighs as you squirted all over your shorts and skin.

Your head dropped back, eyes rolling as a broken moan ripped from your throat.

“Jesus Christ,” Mingi groaned, holding you steady against the wall, his broad frame caging you in as he watched you come undone. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

He pulled his fingers from you slowly, smirking as your arousal dripped down his hand. You were still struggling to catch your breath when he casually brought those fingers to his lips and licked them clean, savoring you like a dessert.

“Sweet,” he said with a satisfied hum. “Just like you.”

Your cheeks burned, heat rushing to your face.

“You’re enjoying this a little too much—”

“Nonsense.” His grin widened as he cut you off. “No such thing as enjoying a beautiful woman too much.”

Before you could answer, he pulled you back in, spinning you to face the wall. His hands were rough and firm, pressing you forward until your chest met the brick.

With one quick motion, your shorts and panties were yanked down to your thighs. You heard the zip of his jeans, then felt his grip tighten possessively on your hip. A sharp tear of plastic followed, and then his cock slid between your folds, slow and deliberate, coating himself in everything you’d just spilled for him.

You gasped at the pressure, your body still pulsing with aftershocks. His chest pressed flush to your back, breath hot against your neck.

“Think you can take more?” he murmured.

You smirked, voice low and daring. “Why don’t you find out?”

Mingi’s brow lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leaned back just enough to grab his cock, guiding the thick tip to your entrance.

“Think I won’t?”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel the cockiness in the way his fingers dug into your hips.

He pushed in slowly, the stretch forcing your breath to catch. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he sank into you, inch by inch, until your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck, Mingi, you’re so damn big,” you whimpered, one hand bracing against the wall as your body adjusted.

“And you’re so fucking tight.” His hips started to move at a slow, controlled pace. He wanted you to feel every inch of him, wanted to make you wait.

But you were still trembling from your last orgasm, every stroke making your knees shake. The slow pace was torture.

“God, Mingi,” you gasped, “you don’t have to be gentle. Just fuck me.”

He chuckled low in his throat, and instead of speeding up, he slowed down even more, dragging his thrusts out cruelly.

He loved this… watching you squirm, hearing the desperation in your voice, seeing how badly you wanted him.

You pushed your hips back, trying to chase him, a needy whine spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, Mingi, please. Please just fuck me. I need it. I need you to fuck me, Mingi.”

He hummed, grip tightening on your hips until you could feel the bruise already forming.

“Since you’re asking so nicely...”

He slammed into you, hard and deep, tearing a loud moan straight from your throat. His rhythm picked up fast, each thrust heavier, sharper, pushing you forward against the wall.

The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the alley, every thrust sending shockwaves through your body.

Mingi kept pounding into you, every thrust deep enough to knock the breath from your lungs. His grip on your hips was bruising now, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips like he owned your body.

And right now, he did.

“Listen to you,” he growled, voice rough against your ear. “Moaning like a fucking whore. You want the whole block to hear how good you take dick?”

You whimpered something, but it was lost in another broken moan as he slammed into you harder.

“Use your words,” he snapped, one hand moving up to wrap around the back of your neck, pushing you slightly forward so your cheek grazed the cool brick. “You want them to know how wet this pussy gets for me?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes, Mingi—fuck, yes.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He didn’t slow down. He fucked you harder, rougher, dragging sounds out of you you didn’t even know you could make. The slick noise of your soaked cunt echoed beneath his deep groans and your constant moaning.

“You’re dripping all over me,” he hissed. “Fucking messy little thing.”

You couldn’t even answer. Your body was on fire, legs trembling, vision swimming. His cock hit that spot inside you over and over, and your walls clenched tight, so close to breaking again.

“You gonna come again?” he growled against your ear. “You gonna cream all over my cock like a desperate little slut?”

You moaned his name, choking on the words, your body already giving him the answer.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. Your body was unraveling, clenching around him so tight it made him hiss through his teeth. Your thighs shook as your orgasm tore through you again, even harder than the last, messier, louder, everything blurring together as your legs nearly gave out beneath you.

But Mingi didn’t stop.

He grunted, driving his hips forward with even more force, pushing through the spasms of your release like he wanted to fuck the next one out of you too.

“Still cumming?” he growled. “Pathetic. You’re so fucking sensitive and you’re still taking it.”

You tried to answer, but your voice caught in your throat, too wrecked to speak. Your body jerked with each thrust, overstimulated, slick dripping down your thighs, but he held you steady, one arm locked around your waist, the other gripping your hair tight.

Your pussy kept clenching, involuntary, trying to force him out, but he only groaned louder.

“Fucking hell—”

His rhythm grew erratic, the pace losing precision but gaining force. You could feel the way his cock throbbed inside you, the way his grip tightened as his release built fast.

“Gonna fuck you so full you won’t forget it,” he gritted out, voice low and rough. “Every step you take, you’ll remember me inside you.”

You whimpered his name, or maybe just a plea.

Then he slammed into you one last time, buried deep, a guttural moan tearing from his chest as he came hard, his cock twitching inside the condom. He stayed there, pressed flush to you, chest heaving against your back as he caught his breath.

And you?

You were shaking. Used. Ruined. Exactly how he wanted you.

On the way home, he kept you close, from getting into the Uber all the way until you stepped through the door. Once inside, he carried you upstairs to your room and gently helped you out of your clothes, finding one a shirt for you to wear.

He tucked you in with care, but before he could turn to leave, you caught his arm.

“Wait. I need cuddles. Stay,” you said with a little pout.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t have to act cute. I would have stayed either way.”

With that, he stripped down to his boxers and slipped under the covers beside you. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you close until you were pressed against his warmth. The steady beat of his heart and the quiet rhythm of his breathing settled you, and sleep slowly came to you.

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