#m.fics

-

you flip to your stomach, cheek smushed into your pillow. you can't get comfortable. you've spent thirty minutes lying here in a dozen different positions, and your body feels lit up from the inside out.

taehyun is lying next to you. he isn't asleep; after nearly a year of dating, you've memorized what his breathing sounds like when he's conscious versus not. he's started sighing each time you fidget, and you're sure he's going to snap any moment now but you just can't help it. you're feeling restless– the prospect of him leaving for japan in just a few days looms over your head, and sleep can't seem to find you.

you just keep thinking about him, which is– it isn't new; he's always on your mind. but now, this time, you miss him before he's even left.

your leg twitches, foot tapping against the mattress. next come your hands, fingers digging into the sheet. finally, you flip to your right side, your back to taehyun, and he groans aloud.

"for the love of god," he starts, and you immediately feel bad because he sounds tired. "what's wrong with you tonight?"

"don't know," you huff. his arm slinks over your waist, tugging you closer to him, your ass flush to his hips. you relax a little beneath his touch, some of the tension seeping out of you. "just have a lot on my mind, i guess."

he presses his lips to your shoulder, soft. "you wanna talk about it?"

"no," you say, quick. and then, "maybe? i don't know." you twist around in his arms, facing him now. his hand comes up to sweep across your cheekbone. "i think i just miss you."

he looks surprised. his eyes widen a little, whites catching the moon's beams in the dark as his brows lift up, up.

"do i seem like i'm being distant?" he asks. and there it is– the attentiveness. he's constantly trying to be the best he can be for you. asks you what he can do better all the time, and never stops trying to learn more about you no matter how much time passes.

"no, you're perfect as usual," you sigh, and when he opens his mouth to disagree, you rush out your words to cut him off. "i just– you're leaving for tour soon. seems like you just got home. i guess 'm just gonna miss sleeping next to you."

his eyes go soft, brown irises deep and warm as his mouth twists into a small smile. "baby," he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, chin, nose. "baby, baby," he rolls you over so that you're on your back, his elbows boxing you in as he leans over you. "we've still got a few more days together, and i'm gonna call you all the time when i'm gone. you're gonna be so annoyed."

"no," you pout, gently punching his shoulder. "you could never annoy me."

he tucks his nose into your neck, lips trailing up the column of your throat as he breathes you in, chest expanding. you rest your hands on his shoulders, before sliding your palms down to the small of his back. he's big and strong and toned, but he's lean, too, and sometimes he feels so small against you.

"i could...try and tire you out?" he murmurs against the shell of your ear. his hot breath against your skin makes you shiver, and you involuntarily tug him closer. his hips press against yours.

"and how would you do that?" you ask, intrigued. the other boys are home, but they're all asleep most likely, and you and taehyun know how to keep quiet. most of the time.

"well," he leaves a chaste kiss to the center of your lips, his cheeks a little flushed. "if you can't sleep, how about we kiss?"

things always start so innocently with him. it's not that he's innocent– he's proven to you a million and one ways (and in about six different positions) over the last year that he isn't. but he's so delicate in the way that he goes about it; he still blushes bright pink when you take your clothes off for him, and your kisses get him hard in a matter of moments. he is easy to please simply because he loves you, and you find his adoration so charming.

"i couldn't say no to you, even if i wanted to," you tell him, and there's a flash of a smile on his face, mouth slightly upturned, before you're tugging him down for a real kiss.

from here, it's almost too easy.

he is sweet in the way that he opens up for you the moment you twine your fingers in his hair. his body curls towards you like a flower seeking out the sun, chest pressed to yours, elbows shaking as he holds himself up. his lips are soft, plush against your own, and he's content to let you take the lead but will try and steal it back from you if you're not careful. your fingers tug soft at his hair, smoothing their way down his scalp, and he exhales through his nose.

when his lips part for you, mouth opening as it slots with yours, he tastes and smells of mint toothpaste. you go slow with him, always slow, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip before carefully sliding into his mouth. he presses back against you, wet and wanton, tiny whine bubbling in his throat as you lick across his teeth. he falls apart in moments, seconds when it comes to you, and his eagerness is so, so hot.

you gently push at his shoulder, and he reluctantly pulls away from you to fall onto his back. you climb into his lap, legs spread as you get settled, and god, god he's already hard against you, leaking through his boxers. though you've hardly even started making out yet, you know how the night is going to end; neither of you can help yourselves around each other, and he's all smooth, lean arms peeking through a white muscle tank, and gray briefs stained dark with precome.

you kiss down his jaw, tongue lapping at the sensitive curve of his ear before your teeth gently tug at his lobe. he's breathing hard now– you're well aware of how much he likes to be kissed here, and his breathy little whimpers paint the air fiery red.

your hands shuck his shirt up, revealing his toned tummy. his abs twitch beneath your touch, and you lean back to really take him in. he's tanned recently, pretty and golden, and you curl your fingers as you rake your nails down his skin just to see the pink marks they leave behind.

"oh," he breathes, hips bucking beneath you of their own volition, nearly throwing you off balance. "what are you-" you roll your hips down against his cock, and his head falls back, hair splayed across his pillow like a halo. "fuck– 'm supposed to be tiring you out, not the other way around."

"you'll have plenty of time to tire me out when you're fucking me," you say, shrugging easily.

he positively moans at that, and you feel his cock twitch against you as he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

"you can't just say stuff like that," he complains, though there's no real malice in it. "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

"you sure?" you tease, fingertips trailing over the head of his cock through his boxers. he exhales sharply. "god, hyunnie, i don't– how are you so hard already?"

"it's you," he says fast. his hands come up to rest on your waist, fingertips sliding beneath your t-shirt. "'s always you. something about you just...i can't help it. i always want you so bad."

you smile a little, cheeks warm. you push his shirt up further, nipples hardening the moment they're exposed to the cool air, and you watch as his mouth falls open as your thumb sweeps across one of them. he's so sensitive to touch, whether it be a fleeting kiss or his cock sliding into you– he always reacts strongly. you bend forward, taking one of the little nubs between your teeth as your fingers pinch at the other. his hips jerk, tummy tensing beneath you as he whines, high-pitched and needy.

after a moment, he slides a hand through your hair, gently pulling you off. you leave a trail of saliva behind, and he catches it with his thumb.

"want you now, please," he says, polite and sweet and quiet. your heart flutters in your chest. "it's been so long since i- since we, i mean-"

"since you were inside of me?" you finish for him, cocking your head to the side. he nods, once, tips of his ears burning red, and you know he's right. between preparations for the japanese leg of their current tour and general livestreams, school, and dance practices, he's been busier than you've ever seen him. the most you've done in weeks is some frottage here, and some oral there. you like getting on your knees for him just before he passes out from exhaustion, but you've admittedly missed the intimacy of full-blown sex.

"sorry," he says, and you frown, unsure as to what he's even apologizing for. he continues before you're able to ask. "i don't want to push you. i know i'm being needy tonight, i just– you never stop being amazing to me, and i've missed you. truthfully, i'm exhausted, but i really just need to be close to you."

"baby, shh," you cup his face between your hands, squishing his cheeks. "you have nothing to apologize for. i want you too, okay? just as bad."

"really?" he asks, slightly distorted as you squeeze his cheeks a little harder.

you grin, leaning down to kiss him. "really."

he is quiet for a moment, just looking at you, and your hands fall away from his face. his brown eyes shine, lips curled into a smile, and he finally says, "just wanna be close to you tonight."

"alright," you nod. you climb off of his lap, lying on your back. with your fist curled in his t-shirt, you tug him on top of you once more. "so be close to me, then. take what you need."

his face cools into something blank, eyes dark, and he murmurs lowly, "darling, you don't mean that."

you swallow, steeling yourself. "i do. i want– i just want to give you everything, hyunnie. so...take what you need."

he is swift when he wants something, fingers working fast against the tie of your pajama pants. they're tugged down past your knees before you're even able to blink, your underwear going next. the air is so cold, goosebumps breaking out across your thighs, but his hands are there, on you, so warm as they smooth over your skin. he fumbles around haphazardly in his bedside drawer, bottle of lube secured between his fingers. he likes to be extra careful with you, prepared to the fullest, as he always wants to make sure that you're comfortable.

"we've gotta be quiet, okay?" he says, slicking his long fingers up. your eyes go fuzzy as you stare at them. "because of the others."

"i know," you manage to get out, throat suddenly dry. it clicks as you swallow, and his fingers prod against your entrance, careful.

"ready?" he asks, and you nudge him with your knee, urging him on. you wish he'd stop talking, wish he'd fill you up, and he brushes his fingers against your slick opening without actually pushing them inside. "i asked you a question, sweetheart."

"yeah," you nod fast, a tad breathless. your heart feels like it's going to explode. "'m ready, please, just– hurry, hyunnie."

and, well. he's always been a sucker for a little bit of begging. you know it as well as he does, and it works like a charm. he slides two fingers into you right away, curling up, up, pushing deep as he scissors you open. your back arches, spine bowing as you gasp, loud, and he uses his free hand to pin your hips to the mattress.

"lie still," he tsks, shaking his head.

he slowly pulls his fingers out of you almost all the way before shoving them back in, fast. he spreads them as he works, making sure to stretch you properly, and when he adds a third, you shove your knuckles between your teeth to muffle the noises that you're making.

"god," he sighs, dreamy and low, "you're so tight. it's been too long. wanna be inside you now."

he's never usually impatient; likes to take his time with you despite how much he whines and whimpers, but you see the way his cock twitches beneath his boxers each time you squeeze around his fingers, and you're aching to be filled just as much as he's yearning to fill you. you reach out, fingers curling at his waistband, tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. you don't have the patience to wrestle them off of him, and it seems that he doesn't either. he slides his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bedsheets, and just as quick, he's lining the head of his cock up with your entrance.

"i really wanted to go slow with you," he whispers, airy, "but i don't have the patience tonight. hope that's okay with you."

you chuckle, chest filling with warmth as you card your fingers through his hair. he is so pretty, so kind, and you're so deeply in love with him that it almost hurts.

"so long as you're inside of me, like, now," you say, "i don't mind that you don't go slow."

he wastes no more time, one hand holding himself up with the other curled around his cock. he guides himself into you, and you hold your breath as he slides in, nice and slick, until you feel him in your tummy. he bottoms out at a gradual pace, careful not to hurt you, and you reach down to prod at your abdomen, pressing at the head of his cock through your belly.

"shit, don't," he snatches your wrist, pinning your hand to the bed. "i'll come," he says, strained.

"so fast?" you say through a smile, only teasing him. he fixes you with a glare, but it's mostly harmless. "baby can't control himself when he's inside of me, huh?"

you've never seen his face get so red in all the time you've known him. he slaps a hand over your mouth, brows furrowed, and drills into you deep enough that you go sliding up the bed with a moan.

"stop talking," he utters, voice pitched. "you're so– 'm gonna make you shut up. just keep still and let me fuck you, okay?"

you don't even have the chance to think of something smart to say. the moment he pulls his hand away from your mouth, his cock drags nearly all the way out of you before he jerks forward, fucking into you hard. the rhythm he sets is smooth, relentless, and his knees dig into the mattress as he grabs hold of your hip, fucking in, out, in, out; consistent and quick and sharp. he never falters, never stops, perfection seeping into everything that he does. he is a try-hard except he doesn't even really try, and he knows exactly how to angle his cock to send you reeling each and every time.

you'd told him to take what he needed, had been earnest about it, and he seems to be forgoing inhibitions and actually doing it. he doesn't stop to voice his worries about hurting you as he so often does when the two of you do this, maybe partially because he knows he isn't, but also because you'd told him to take, and he's listening. he fucks into you fast, hips jerking, cock twitching as he fills you up, and he's making these heady little whimpers, whining high in the back of his throat. you can't get enough of them. he hardly stops to catch a breath, solely focused on the way that his cock slides into you and seems to fit so right.

"i like you like this," you tell him, hardly able to speak as your stomach curls with pleasure, but you just have to tell him. he needs to know. "love seeing you be a little bit selfish. i want you to feel good, hyunnie. want you to take and take until your satisfied, okay?"

he nods fast, jerky, hair flopping against his forehead. he's beyond words now; you know it simply by looking at him, all creased brows, mouth falling open as he moans. you're not going to last long at this pace; have never been one to come from his cock alone, but tonight is going to be different. your tummy twists with each thrust, and you peek down to watch as your stomach positively bulges with his cock.

you pull him down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue, his canines sharp as you lap at them. he shudders against you, biting at your bottom lip as his rhythm falters just a bit, just for a second. he thrusts into you once, twice, three times in quick succession, crying out into your mouth each and every time. your body jerks with his movements, limp against the mattress, fingernails digging into the sheets.

"tell me," you breathe, half delirious, nipping at taehyun's throat. "come on, baby. you have to– need you to tell me."

he doesn't ask what you're talking about. just takes one look at you, and he knows.

"i love you," he manages to get out, hardly above a whisper. he sounds broken, fucked, and you bite down hard at the base of his neck, teeth pinching and sharp. "god, fuck, i love you. you drive me crazy."

"me too," you tell him. you pull him back by his hair so that you can meet his gaze. his eyes are big and wild. "love you, too. 'm gonna miss you."

"no," he shakes his head, and his hips buck forward pathetically, cock twitching inside of you. "you're not allowed. 'm not gonna give you the chance to miss me. i'm gonna fill you up with my come, gonna bruise your pretty hips so that you'll always be thinking of me."

"christ," you breathe, stuttered.

taehyun is precise in the way that he drills into you again, again, again, tenacious and unrelenting. his hips meet yours hard, and he holds you in place so that you're unable to squirm away. there will certainly be bruises; the kinds of marks you'll press your fingertips to when he's gone, dildo buried up to the hilt as you think about him. he uses one hand to grab your wrist, twining your fingers together, and when he presses the back of your hand into the mattress, you let him use you as leverage to fuck into you faster.

in an impressive show of strength (a little bit show-offey if you do say so yourself), he uses his other arm to sweep under the small of your back, lifting you so that your hips are floating slightly above the mattress. the angle sends him impossibly deep faster than you're able to keep up with, and his cock pierces into you once, twice, before your back bows, and you're coming all over his length, and the sheets.

he's so good about it, slowing down while you ride it out so as not to overstimulate you. you can't seem to stop, shockwaves of pleasure burning bright in your stomach, all the way down to your toes as you come and come.

"you can keep going," you tell him, not fully recovered yet, words shaky around the edges.

he doesn't ask you if you're sure; is far too gone for that. he pushes your knees to your chest, the stretch uncomfortable but bearable as his cock works into your hole fast. his hips have lost their rhythm enough so that you're able to tell that he's close, and you want to get him there. want him to fill you up so much so that his come spills out of you the moment his cock isn't pushing it in anymore.

your teeth work at his ear, jaw, his neck– wherever you can reach. you're careful not to leave marks, but you know he likes a little bit of pain. you bite when you can get away with it, relishing in the way the sting makes his cock twitch, weeping precome inside of you.

it's a tug to his hair the same moment you nip at his ear that really does him in. you see the moment it happens, plateau reached. his mouth goes slack, popped open enough to reveal a cherry red tongue, little incisors on show. his stomach tenses, flexing, and he trembles against you as his cock slides into you so fucking smooth, so easy.

"oh," he whimpers, and then, "oh, i can't– baby, i'm-"

he doesn't need to finish his sentence. you know he's close as his cock seems to swell impossibly further inside of you. he drops to his elbows, nose nudging your temple as his hips buck frantically, desperate.

"baby," he whimpers into your ear, broken, "baby, baby, oh-"

he comes with a moan so loud your eyes go wide. you scramble to slap your hand over his mouth, but that doesn't deter him. he cries out, high and shaky, cock jerking as he pumps into you a handful of times, filling you up. you feel it each time it spurts from his length, hot and thick, painting your insides. he rocks into you all of the way, hips flushed to your ass, before he drops. he's careful not to put all of his weight on you, but he's clearly tired, and the little whimpers he makes as his spent cock spreads his come around inside of you have you flushing down to your chest.

you could fall asleep like this, you think, him pressed to your chest like a weighted blanket. you feel sticky and sweaty but full, and the thought of him pulling out of you is even less appealing than him going on tour.

he must feel the same way because he nuzzles into you, sleepy and yawning, eyelashes tickling your neck. his arms curl around your waist, your hands sweeping through his messy hair, and his little breaths puff hot against your throat not even a full minute later.

and if you wake up in the morning feeling fully-rested to a group text from the other members, all complaining about the noise, well. taehyun's sheepish smile and pretty eyes are enough to stave off the embarrassment.

-

kai doesn't get jealous often, and as his partner, you're appreciative of that. he is kind, always trying to be respectful of your feelings, and your space.

besides, he's away often (his career comes first and foremost), and he's grateful for how supportive you are of him despite his busy schedule. he tries to give you the same energy in return.

but there are moments in time; brief, flittering things, when his stomach twists unpleasantly as you giggle at a text on your phone, or fall into beomgyu's side-hugs a little too easily.

they're not much, not big enough to even make a fuss over, but they're there, stewing.

so when he wakes up one morning after the two of you spent the previous night cuddling in his bed, kissing lazily, touching, only to hear beomgyu say that you left in a hurry, he frowns. his eye twitches, barely. slightly. you aren't supposed to have any plans today– you'd told him so against his throat last night, quiet like a promise.

he texts you a question; where are u?

your answer, having lunch with an old friend! <img. attached> does not soothe him the way he anticipated it would, because he recognizes the person leaning into you, beaming at the camera. an ex– from your high school, maybe. but an ex nonetheless.

he leaves you on read. showers, brushes his teeth. he stares into the bathroom mirror, brows pinched, and sighs at himself. he's not like this, is not a jealous person, but you're having lunch with your ex, who is just as attractive as kai physically. he's not a jealous person, but you're wearing that shirt he likes you in, the one that makes your waist look good, and the necklace he bought you for your birthday last year. he's not a jealous person, but his stomach swoops and his throat tightens, and he unlocks his phone to send you a text; come over when u can.

you respond with a frowny face, and then, no emoticons...are u okay?

he doesn't reply to that, either, instead going to sit on the couch, futile attempts to beat beomgyu at video games just pissing him off more. his head isn't in the game, and beomgyu takes one look at him after his third loss in a row and declares, "alright, everyone round up, we're going out to lunch! except you," he nudges kai with his shoulder, "because you clearly need time alone."

when the dorm is empty, quiet dredging into his bones, kai starts to get antsy. there's been no word from you, no indication that you'll be arriving soon. he can't text you again; that'd make him look desperate. he has to be patient.

he starts pacing the room, unable to keep still.

what if you're linking up with this ex because you missed them? what if they missed you, or worse, still have feelings for you? if they confessed, would you go back to them? would you consider it?

he worries his bottom lip so hard it starts to bleed, so lost in his thoughts that he almost doesn't notice the front door knob turning.

when you step through the door, he freezes. you've got a little smile on your face, cheeks pleasantly flushed from summer's heat. you kick your shoes off, barely looking at him as you tap away on your phone, and–

he reaches you in one, two, three strides. you startle, phone clattering to the floor, and he uses your surprise to back you up against the door, boxing you in.

"kai?" you ask, soft. worried. "are you alright? you seemed...upset in the texts."

he mulls over what he wants to say. he doesn't know how to put his feelings into words, isn't able to properly express the jealousy and possession brewing in his stomach.

so, he grabs your chin gently between his fingers, tilting your head back so that you're forced to look up at him.

"you went out with your ex and didn't tell me," he says, careful, calculated. probably colder than what you're used to, but he's trying not to let his emotions rule him, and this is the best he can do.

"i put it in your calendar weeks ago," you say quietly, pouting. "i forgot it was today until i got a text this morning. i didn't want to wake you."

the revelation cools his skin a little as he realizes you weren't intentionally keeping anything from him, but the urge to be closer, to make you realize that you're his is still there, burning bright and hot at the tips of his fingers.

"mine," he murmurs, quiet, eyes falling shut. when he looks at you again, you're frowning, brows pinched. "you're mine," he repeats, louder this time, firmer.

you still beneath him, lids fluttering. "oh," you breathe, "you're jealous–"

he kisses you before you can finish your sentence, mouth mashed to yours, teeth clanking. you gasp against him and he swallows it up quickly, tongue slipping past your lips. you're struggling to keep up, taken aback by his urgency. he knows that this is probably a lot to deal with, knows that he usually isn't like this.

he pulls back to look at you, panting from the kiss, and asks, "are you okay?"

you nod, once, jerky. "yeah, just– are you mad at me? i don't-"

"not mad," he shakes his head. his fingers twitch, thumb and pointer holding your chin. he wants to hold you close, touch you the way that only he's allowed to, take you–

he says, "i need you, right now. is that alright?" he's always going to ask first, always going to make sure you're on board.

your pupils grow large, swallowing up your irises, and you nod. whisper a dry, "yes." and that's all the permission he needs.

he dives in, mouthing at your neck, teeth finding your skin. he bites too hard, laps and licks to make up for it, fingers curling round your hips all the while.

he's hard against your stomach, pressing close, closer, and he makes quick work of your clothes, leaving you bare in front of him. his cheeks are warm, burning red at the sight of you, and he smooths the tips of his fingers over your chest, down to your tummy.

he kicks off his sweatpants, hoodie following. when he's in his boxers, cock straining against the material, you instinctively reach down to palm at him, but he's quick to snatch your wrist, pinning it to the wall.

"you just stand here and look pretty," he tells you, low. "i'm gonna do all the work, gonna make sure you know you're mine, okay?"

you're breathless, chest rising and falling fast as you nod. he smiles, soft, a little bit wicked, and hikes one of your legs up to his hip, holding it in place.

with his free hand, he twists at one of your nipples until it's stiff and puffy and flushed. you writhe against him, hips canting forward. he knows what you're asking for silently. he wants it as well.

"open," he orders, fingers prodding at your lower lip. you let your mouth fall open, and he swoops three inside immediately, long and lithe, pressing down against your tongue in a way that nearly makes you gag around him.

when he's pleased, cheeks ruddy, he slides his fingers free, moving to press them against your opening. he considers sliding in all three in one go; knows you could take it, but he's not that cruel. he starts with two, sliding into you easily, twisting as they press against your walls.

making you feel good is at the back of his mind. he wants to please you, but more than anything, he needs to be inside of you. needs to feel the point where the two of you connect.

he makes quick work of stretching you open, adding a third finger after a couple of minutes. you writhe against his hand, subtly pushing down to get more of him, clenching around his fingers when he scissors them just so.

his own cock is hard, leaking precome through his boxers and making your stomach sticky, and it's when your fingers slide through his hair as you mutter a heady, "please," that he snaps. can't take it anymore.

he doesn't bother kicking his boxers off all the way; doesn't have the patience. he reaches down, freeing his cock, and holds tight to your thigh to keep you in place as he lines himself up to your entrance.

the stretching was hasty at best, and he's bigger than average, maybe– he doesn't know, but you always seem to struggle to adjust. this time is no different. he pushes in past the initial tightness, head of his cock velvety smooth against your insides. he doesn't stop there– keeps going, going, until he's bottomed out and his chest heaves as he tries to calm himself down.

your eyes are pinched shut tight, clinging to his shoulders, fingernails leaving crescents into his skin. he doesn't ask if he can move because he knows you're still adjusting, knows it takes some time, but you give a little nod and say, "move, kai," and he stops thinking. doesn't ask questions anymore.

he thrusts once, shallow. testing the waters. when you don't ask him to stop, he pulls out halfway, pushing back in deep. a sound works its way up your throat, small and wanton, and so he pulls out all the way, only the head of his cock left inside of you, and pushes in hard. fast.

you gasp, jerking up the wall at the force of his movements. you clench around him, so tight and hot.

he can't control himself anymore.

he grabs your other leg, hoisting you up so that your feet dangle, back pressed against the wall. with you as leverage, he thrusts into you as fast as he can manage, cock dragging thick and heavy along your insides.

he grunts, lost in the feeling, sweat beading at the back of his neck. he's so deep, goes so far, head of his cock bulging your belly when he angles himself just right. you just take it, letting him use you, and he buries his face in your neck, a string of curses falling past his lips.

by his feet lie the shirt you wore to lunch with your ex, the one he likes you in so much, the one he tells you you look good in all the time. his stomach knots up, throat tight, and he bites down hard on the curve of your throat, leaving teeth marks behind as he fucks into you.

"mine," he says, rough. he clears his throat, looking up at you. "you're mine," he repeats. his hips kick, cock drilling into you as hard as he can manage, and he knows the both of you will be bruised come the morning. "you can– fuck, you can go out to lunch with whoever, but you always come home to me." you moan, nodding fast, and his cock twitches inside of you. "you only let me fuck you like this, okay? only me."

"only you," you agree. your hands slide up, slinking into his hair, and you pull at it. you know the pain gets him going, and the more you tug at it, the harder his thrusts get.

his fingers hold tight to your thighs, keeping you in place. he moans, loud and clear and high against your neck, your shoulder, your cheek as he pushes in, in, in.

"you're gonna let me come first," he tells you, no room for argument in his voice. "you're gonna let me fill you up until my come is dripping down your thighs, and only then are you allowed to finish. do you understand?"

you nod, head thrown back as you lose yourself in the steady rhythm of his hips, but he wants an answer; wants your voice. with his hands full of your thighs, he can't very well use them, so instead, he rams his cock in, hard, as deep as he can get it, hips rolling.

you cry out at the sensation, too full, fingers scraping at his scalp.

"answer me," he tries again. "i said, do you understand?"

"i understand," you rush out, breathy and quiet. "please, kai, keep going. need you, need your cock–"

he groans, head falling forward, cock jerking inside of you. his arms are hurting, legs cramping, so he gently lets you down, sliding all the way out of you. the sudden cold enveloping his cock is torture, and he's quick to gently urge you to the floor, back pressing into the hardwood as he hovers over you, arms boxing you in on either side.

he slides back in easily, your heat accommodating his size perfectly now.

like this, he's able to dig his knees into the floor and push into you just the way he likes, hard enough that you slide along the floor. he holds to your hip with one hand to keep you in place, cock thrusting in, out, in, out, faster, harder, deeper until he feels like all he knows is your hole, the way it holds tight to his cock, and the tight heat within you.

"'m close," he tells you. you nod, eyes blurry with tears from the overwhelming pleasure, and you keep clenching around him more and more, ever tighter. he fixes you a warning look. "you aren't allowed to come until i finish. don't even think about-"

"i'm just so close," you tell him, voice raw. wrecked from moaning. "kai, i can't–"

he tsks, head tilting to the side once. his thrusts slow. "if you can't listen, then you don't deserve to be fucked, do you?"

he pulls out swiftly, cock falling free, and you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"kai, no," you sniffle. "come back, i can-"

he shakes his head, left hand coming to cover your mouth, silencing you.

"getting fucked is a reward, love," he says. "i told you not to come until i did, but you were having trouble controlling yourself. so, we'll do this the old fashioned way."

you want to ask what he means, but his hand is still clamped over your mouth tight. he moves up to his knees, and takes his cock in his right hand, fucking into the ring of his fingers.

you're left to watch, unable to take your eyes off of him, unable to speak as he pleasures himself. his hand twists, palm catching the crown, thumb digging into the slit on every upstroke. he moves his fist fast, so much so that the movement blurs.

"close," he tells you, voice strained and rough and low. you whine, hips canting up towards him, and he moves to press one of his knees atop your thigh, pinning you down. he fixes you with a glare, half-hearted, and says, "don't move. 'm gonna come on your pretty tummy, okay?"

his hips rock forward, cock pushing up into his hand as his movements speed up, becoming more erratic. his stomach flexes, twitching, and precome spills down his fingers sticky and clear.

"fuck," he whispers, sharp. his cock twitches within the circle of his hand, and he thumbs at the head, the slit, pressure tightening as his stomach twists with pleasure. "fuck, i-"

all the air whooshes from his lungs in a second, and he's breathless, silent as he comes ropes of white, shooting from his cock and landing haphazardly on your belly, your chest, your thighs. he works himself through it fast, and then slows once the feeling is too much. he comes more than either of you previously thought was possible. leaves white dripping down your sides, and pooling in your bellybutton.

once he's finished, breathing ragged as he sucks in air through his mouth, he wastes no time in swiping three fingers through the mess of come on your stomach, and pushing them back inside of you.

your back arches, a sob falling from your mouth as you're left to do nothing but take what he has to give. his pace is brutal, more so than it was with his cock, and though his fingers aren't quite as thick or long, he knows exactly how to twist and curl them to have you falling apart around him.

he moves down, mouth finding you, tongue lapping at your entrance as his fingers slide in, out. he puts himself to work, taking you in his mouth, tonguing at your sex until your caught between riding down on his fingers and pushing up into his mouth.

he lets you use him, lets you tangle your hands in his hair and turn his head this way and that, whichever way you like. his fingers never cease; rhythm impeccable even as he's multi-tasking, and you thank your lucky stars for his musical talent.

it's when he slides his pinky in alongside his other fingers, the stretch raw and sharp, that you feel your orgasm sneak up on you as if it were waiting in the shadows for the right moment to strike.

he hums against you, tongue still working tenfold, giving you vague permission to finish.

you gasp, sharp, holding his head in place as your hips roll up, up, into his mouth. your thighs twitch, stomach flexing, and you come hard, come so much that your eyes white out and fuzz over. he merely takes it, lapping at you, swallowing everything you have to offer without so much as batting an eye.

when you're finished, sensitive and spent, he keeps going, fingers flexing inside of you, mouth sucking at your pleasure. you whine, nudging him with your thigh, and he moves back to give you some space, fingers sliding out of you.

he looks down at you, back pressed to the floor, chest heaving as you catch your breath. you're covered in his come, backs of your thighs and your ass already bruising from his thrusts into you, his hipbones sharp against your skin. you are messy and sticky and beautiful, and he feels his heart swell in his chest. feels his throat tighten, just a little.

"let me clean you up," he whispers, so soft you almost miss it. you grab hold of his wrist before he can leave, a question in your eyes. "i'm not mad that you went out to lunch with your ex. you're allowed to be friends with whoever you want, i just– i got jealous. wanted to make sure you remembered that i love you, and that what we have is special."

"well, i'll have these bruises for the next week or so to remind me. after that," you tease, low, "i might forget."

kai grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

"well," he says, soft. smiling. "i'll just have to make sure they never fade, then."

and that's more than okay with the both of you.

kai doesn’t like to call himself a gamer

you think this is particularly funny because when he’s not doing idol things, school work, or spending time with you, he’s, well, gaming

he might not be a gamer in the traditional sense; he doesn’t stream on twitch, and shooters just aren’t really his thing

but when he’s really into something, whether it be a mobile game that he can play on the go, or a story-driven rpg that takes up way too much space on the boys’ shared playstation 5, he’s so fucking cute it’s almost unbearable

he’s not competitive at all, which just makes it better. it means that he never ends a session in a rage, and hardly ever lets a loss impact his mood

he’s the perfect little gamer boyfriend with all of the perks– a rainbow keyboard, headphones shaped like cat ears, a desk just tall enough for you to fit under– and none of the complications

so, as much as you like actually doing activities with him, you don’t mind sitting across the room on his bed, phone in hand, while he clicks away on his keyboard, one ear peeking out of his headphones just incase you call for him

if you ever want him to stop playing, he will. the game will be shut down in seconds, and he’ll swivel around in his chair, attention fully focused on you

you never ask him to stop, though. not when the alternative is much more entertaining

he doesn’t even flinch when you walk over to him, slow, before dropping to your knees by his side. he merely scoots the chair back a bit to make room for you, and you take the opportunity to crawl under his desk

he’s tall, legs always sort of in the way, but you’ve learned to work around them by now. and this is where he’s good also, where he’s the best boyfriend you could ever ask for; he never expects anything from you

if you yearn to be close, to merely sit with your chin on his knee as he plays his game, then he’s fine with that. he’ll sneak a hand down every now and then to sweep long fingers through your hair, or boop your nose with his thumb

the fact that he’s just so content to be near you however you’ll let him is so– you’ve never had anything like it before. never had someone like him. you find that his kindness makes you more eager to please him

when he’s at the dorm, he’s either wearing sweats or boxers. both are easy access, and you find you don’t prefer one over the other. the boxers are nice because of the space his cock takes up inside of them when he’s totally hard, but the sweatpants are just as mouthwatering, especially when he’s so turned on he begins leaking through them

if you want to get him hard quick, it’s easy enough to do so. mouthing along the fabric just over his clothed cock, or sweeping your thumb along the head has him squirming beneath your touch in no time. he won’t ask; never does, but he doesn’t need to

when he’s hard just from gentle, lingering swipes of your fingers, or hot breaths against his cock, you carefully tug him out of his clothes, fabric scrunching up beneath his length

you always start with your hand, swiping your tongue along your palm to slick it up. the way you twist your wrist on each upstroke has him breathing harder, abdomen flexing, thighs twitching

he is quiet at the start, but it never lasts long. neither does his focus

the moment you brace up, up on your knees, one hand pressed against his thigh for balance as you slowly take his cock between your lips, tongue dipping into the slit to gather precome, to taste. 

he sighs prettily. you hear the occasional click of his keyboard as he attempts to multitask, but then you wrap your hand around the base of his length and slide down as far as your throat allows, and he grunts, both hands in your hair in an instant

they just rest there, at the top of your head, strands sliding through his long fingers. he doesn’t pull; doesn’t push you further than you’re ready to go, or demand anything of you

but when you reach up, tapping his knuckles twice, a silent, “go ahead, i want you to,” he’s quick to appease

his right hand tightens in your hair, hard enough that your scalp stings, while his left gently cups your jaw. he tilts your face to the side as much as he can with his cock still in your mouth, subtly, this way and that. testing the waters

and then, then, he pulls

you gasp, his grip tight enough, and strong enough, to have you sliding all the way off of his cock

he taps the head of his cock against your lips, and your mouth falls open, willing, waiting. he lets out a shuddery breath, and you can’t quite see his face from where you are, but you know his eyes must be closed

his right hand gives a great twist, hair pulled taut between his fingers, and then he pushes you down, down, onto his cock. he doesn’t stop when you sputter, doesn’t let up when you gag. he holds you there for a second, two, three, and then lets you up to collect yourself

you have a system. a pinch to kai’s thigh will let him know that he’s being too rough, that you need a break, but you’ve never needed to do it before. you certainly don’t need to now

he sets a pace, after that

you place your hands on his knees, your own aching from being pressed into the carpet, as kai pulls you up on his cock, head dotted with precome, and then pushes you back down, throat instinctively constricting as you breathe through your nose, and will yourself not to choke

he makes sure that you take him fast, that your head doesn’t move unless he wants it to. he plants his feet on the floor, slides down in his gaming chair just so, and makes tiny, aborted movements with his hips like he just isn’t quite deep enough; like he won’t be satisfied until you’re coughing around him, stuffed full of him

he’s whimpering now, voice high on each exhale, trailing off heavy and breathy towards the end. he’s still got his headphones on, unaware of how loud he’s being, and you love him like this, needy and unabashed

your tongue swirls along the head of his cock each time you’re tugged up, and the slide is easier now, slicked with your spit, so you rub your thumb at the base of his length while you lap at the slit just to feel his hips twitch beneath your touch

his left hand moves from your jaw, down your neck, to your shoulder. he grips you there, fingertips pressing into the bone, just holding on, like he needs you to steady him while you simultaneously pull him apart

his cock jerks in your mouth at the feel of your teeth catching the crown, just there, ever so slight. he likes a little pain with his pleasure, and you know his limits just as well as you know your own

his whimpers have grown into moans now, long, pulled out from back of his throat. they are raw and strained; scratchy each time he thrusts up into your mouth, gaming chair squeaking beneath his movements

his coordination fails him the closer he gets to finishing, until he’s just holding your head in place, hips twisting, rolling up into the tight circle of your mouth, cock sliding along your tongue

he is all breath now, all shaky exhales and gasps and little whispers. tiny litanies of, “so good,” and, “ah, i’m– oh, oh.” he never gets out a full sentence, can’t think long enough to, and you know he’s close the moment his hand tightens on your shoulder enough to bruise, and his thighs flex beneath your palms

he gasps loud in the quiet of the room, pulling you off of his cock long enough to rush out, “i’m– where should i-”

“my mouth,” you tell him, no hesitation. your mouth falls open, and you stick your tongue out, eyes falling shut.

he is quick to slide back into you, cock prodding at the back of your throat, fingers catching in your hair. he shudders once, twice, knees bracketing you in

when he comes, it’s with a groan, back bowed so much so that the chair nearly rolls out from beneath him

his come shoots down your throat, and you sputter, tears pooling in your eyes. but he doesn’t stop, you don’t want him to stop, and you twist your tongue around the head, the crown, dip it right into the slit just to milk out more of him

he fills your mouth, his come hot against your tongue, and you swallow around him. there is spillage; there always is. it rolls down your chin, and onto the carpet

he lets out these exhausted little whines each time he breathes out, and though his hand on your shoulder has fallen away, the one in your hair merely loosens its grip, but stays. he pats your head once, and gently massages your scalp with his fingers

he is slumped back against his chair now, spent, worn, and when you shift so that you can look up at him, his eyes are shut tight, cheeks ruddy red. his bottom lip is swollen and wet and pink, like he’d been chewing on it during the excursion, and there’s a flush running down his neck, along his collarbones, creeping into his shirt. so, so pretty

when he comes to, he rolls back in his chair, and carefully helps you out from beneath the desk. your knees ache, and he tugs you into his lap, kissing the apple of your cheek, and the tip of your nose

“you made me lose my game,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he minds all that much. his big hand slides along the small of your back, and he smiles, so small you almost miss it. “gotta find a way to make it up to me, don’t you think?”

and so you end up in his gaming chair with him beneath the desk, your legs spread, thighs on either side of his head as he tugs your bottoms down, tossing them out of the way. you knew it’d end up like this– it almost always does.