yes

Song Mingi has always been known to be the sexy, charming, deep-voiced tall rapper from ATEEZ — blessed with a plateable ass, thick thighs, and a nose bridge higher than any mountain’s peak. And well… he is also your boyfriend.

It was just like any other day, except that Mingi’s latest dance challenge video had been looping in the back of your mind for the past six hours. The way his ripped jeans clung to his thighs, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, damn him for posting that right before your shift. The apartment was quiet when you unlocked the door, and the absence of his usual booming laughter or off-key singing made it clear he wasn’t home yet. You kicked off your shoes, tossing your bag onto the couch with a sigh.

The fridge hummed softly as you grabbed a water bottle, leaning against the counter while scrolling through your phone absentmindedly. Your thumb hovered over the video again, you’d watched it at least fifteen times already. The comment section was a warzone of thirst, half the replies just keyboard smashes, the other half poetic odes to the way the studio lights caught the sweat glistening on his exposed thighs. You knew those thighs intimately, the way they flexed when he lifted you against the wall, the warmth of them under your palms when he pulled you into his lap, but seeing them on display like this, shredded denim barely holding together, made your teeth sink into your bottom lip all over again.

You flopped onto the couch face-first, muffling a groan into the cushions. Sleep. You needed sleep. The couch smelled faintly of Mingi’s cologne, something warm and woody that lingered in the fabric no matter how many times you washed the throw pillows. It didn’t help. Neither did squeezing your eyes shut, because all you saw were those damn thighs, the way the material had torn just slightly at the seams when he—

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. You didn’t need to look to know it was probably another Instagram notification about the video. The universe was mocking you.

The rhythmic drag of your hips against the cushion had you teetering on the edge, breaths coming in shallow pants when the front door clicked open. You didn’t hear it, too lost in the pulse between your legs, the way your thighs trembled as you chased that sweet, sharp release. Mingi’s voice cut through the haze like a blade, rough and amused. "Baby, I’m hom—" His words stuttered to a halt as he took in the scene: you, flushed and breathless, thighs clamped tight around the cushion, hips still subtly rocking as the realization slammed into you.

With a huff, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling fan, its lazy rotation doing nothing to cool the heat prickling under your skin. This was ridiculous. Embarrassing, even. You’d seen him shirtless a thousand times, hell, you’d peeled that shirt off him yourself last night, but there was something about the way he moved in that video that refused to leave your head.

You pressed your lips together, shifting against the cushions as the heat in your body refused to settle and the faint trace of his cologne still lingering like a tease. It was too much.

Your hand reached for the nearest cushion, fingers digging into the soft fabric, pulling it closer and pressing it between your thighs, rocking against it slowly at first, seeking some kind of relief. The pressure felt good, grounding yet frustrating all at once. Your breath hitched as you moved a little faster, eyes closed, imagining it was something, someone else entirely. In your mind, it wasn’t the soft fabric anymore, it was Mingi’s thigh. Firm, warm, the smooth skin stretched over muscle, those long legs you couldn’t stop picturing.

Mingi’s gym bag hit the floor with a thud, his eyebrows shot up, lips parting in a slow, wicked grin as his gaze dragged over you, the flush on your face, the way your thighs were still clenched desperately around the cushion. "Well," he drawled, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. "This is a fucking welcome."

He thudded against the hardwood as he stalked toward you, each step deliberate, predatory. You didn’t move, couldn’t, really, your body locked in place under the weight of his stare. Mingi crouched in front of the couch, his knees cracking audibly, and you caught the sharp scent of his sweat mingling with that damn cologne. His thumb hooked under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Been thinking about me, huh?" he murmured, his voice dropping into that gravelly register that always made your stomach flip.

His thumb slid down from your chin, dragging lazily along your bottom lip before tugging it free from between your teeth. Mingi’s grin widened as his other hand settled on your knee, warm and heavy, fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse jump. "You didn’t even wait for me," he teased, voice dropping lower as his grip tightened. "Didn’t even fucking text."

"I—" you started, but his laugh cut you off, low and rough, vibrating through the space between you like a physical touch.

"Let me guess," he murmured, leaning in so close you could feel his breath against your lips, warm and tinged with the mint gum he always chewed after practice. "You watched the video." His free hand slid up your thigh, fingers tracing the seam of your sweatpants where they bunched around your hips. "How many times, baby?"

The heat in your cheeks burned hotter, and you tried to squirm away, but Mingi’s grip was iron. "Fifteen…," you mumbled, and his grin turned feral, eyes darkening as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

The number hung between you like a confession, and Mingi’s grin widened until his teeth glinted in the low light. "Fifteen," he repeated, voice husky with something between disbelief and raw satisfaction. His fingers curled around your thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt through you. "Fuck, you’re greedy." His thumb swiped over your lower lip again, this time pressing down just enough to make you open for him, and the groan that rumbled out of his chest was filthy. "Could’ve called me. I would’ve come home sooner."

The words died in your throat as Mingi’s thumb pressed harder against your lip, his other hand sliding up your thigh with deliberate slowness. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dropping into that rough, honeyed tone that always unraveled you. "All worked up over a fucking video." His grin was all teeth, predatory and pleased, as he hooked a finger under the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down just enough to expose the flushed skin of your hips.

The whimper that escaped you was embarrassingly high-pitched when Mingi’s fingers finally—finally—dipped beneath the damp fabric of your panties. His calloused fingertips dragged through the slick heat between your thighs, and your hips jerked off the couch instinctively. Mingi’s chuckle was dark, curling around you like smoke as he pressed you back into the cushions with his free hand, his breath hot against your neck as he dragged his fingers through your folds, slow and deliberate. “You’re fucking soaked.”

His fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving you gasping at the loss, your thighs trembling with the effort not to chase his touch. Mingi leaned back on his heels, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips as he wiped his fingers on his sweatpants with deliberate slowness. "Nuh-uh," he tutted, tilting his head like he was scolding a misbehaving puppy. "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?"

Mingi’s hands gripped your hips with sudden hunger, fingers digging into your skin as he effortlessly lifted you off the couch. The room spun for a second, your breath catching in your throat. In one fluid motion, he yanked your sweatpants down your thighs, then hooked his fingers into your underwear. With a low, impatient growl and a sharp rip, the delicate fabric tore apart under his strength. He tossed the ruined panties aside without a second glance.

He pulled you forward, settling you directly onto his thick thigh. Mingi leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs wider to give you full access, his smirk dark and dripping with satisfaction.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips as the solid heat of his muscle pressed right against your bare, dripping core. The rough fabric of his sweatpants dragged deliciously against your sensitive skin. Fingers scrambling for purchase on his broad chest, you rolled your hips experimentally, and a low, rumbling groan escaped him.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice velvet-rough. One large hand slid up your spine and tangled firmly in your hair, tugging just enough to arch your back. “Use me, baby. Ride my thigh like you’ve been fantasizing about.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back until you were forced to meet his gaze, dark, amused, utterly in control. "You wanted this," Mingi murmured. "So fucking bad you couldn’t even wait for me." His grin was lazy, predatory, as he spread his thighs wider beneath you, the rough fabric of his sweatpants dragging against your bare skin.

His other hand slid down your spine and gripped your ass, pressing you harder against his thigh. The rough fabric of his sweatpants dragged perfectly over your clit with every desperate roll of your hips.“Look at you,” he groaned softly, lips brushing your throat. “Soaking my thigh like a needy little thing.”

You whimpered, grinding down faster, but it still wasn’t enough. Mingi chuckled darkly at your frustration. “Can’t get there on your own, baby?” His hand slipped between your thighs, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing firm, slick circles that made your back arch sharply. The added pressure was devastating. Your moans grew louder, thighs trembling around his as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside you.“That’s it,” he whispered hotly against your neck. “Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart.”

The orgasm hit you like lightning. A broken cry tore from your throat as intense waves crashed over you, your body shaking uncontrollably on his thigh. Mingi kept his fingers moving, drawing out every pulse until you were whimpering, oversensitive, and completely spent against his chest.

"Fuck—" The words broke from your lips in a desperate gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as aftershocks ripped through you. His fingers refused to stop, relentlessly circling your oversensitive clit in tight, merciless strokes that made your hips jerk uncontrollably. “Too much— Mingi, stop—”

Before you could catch your breath, he slipped his hands beneath your waist and lifted you as though you weighed nothing. Your knees sank into the couch cushions on either side of him as he yanked you forward, forcing you to straddle his face.

“Mingi—!” Your surprised cry melted into a broken moan the moment his tongue dragged a slow, filthy stripe up your dripping folds. His strong hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you firmly in place as his low, smug laugh vibrated straight against your core.

“Stay still,” he growled against your soaked skin, before his mouth sealed over you completely. His tongue worked you with devastating precision, broad, wet strokes followed by teasing flicks, his nose pressing perfectly against your swollen clit with every movement. The new angle was overwhelming, deeper, more intense. Every lick and suck pulled fresh whimpers from your throat as you trembled above him, fingers tangled desperately in his hair.

You whimpered, thighs trembling violently around his head as Mingi devoured you with relentless precision. His tongue moved in lazy, sinful circles before flicking sharply over your swollen clit, each stroke pulling desperate, broken sounds from your throat. His thumbs pressed hard into the soft flesh of your hips, the dull sting only feeding the fire building inside you.

“Fuck—Mingi—I can’t—” The plea came out shattered, your fingers fisting tighter in his hair as your knees shook.

Mingi only hummed deeply against your soaked core, the vibration ripping through you like electricity. He pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and swollen, eyes dark with hunger. “You can,” he said, voice low and commanding. “And you will. Give me one more.”

Then, his mouth was on you again, tongue pressing deep, then curling, sucking, devouring. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room as he held you down, forcing you to take every second of it. Your second orgasm hit harder than the first, slamming into you without mercy. A raw cry tore from your throat as your body convulsed, thighs clamping around his head while pleasure tore through every nerve.

Mingi’s arms encircled you the moment your trembling legs gave out, hauling you down onto his lap. The couch groaned under your combined weight as he pulled you flush against his chest, his breath still hot, his lips still glistening with the taste of you. His laughter rumbled through you, warm, smug, unbearably satisfied as you sagged against him, boneless and spent.

The hard, insistent press of his cock against your thigh made you whimper. You were still shaking, barely recovered, when Mingi tangled his fingers in your hair and yanked your head back. His mouth crashed into yours in a messy, demanding kiss, all teeth, tongue, and raw need. He tasted like you, and he kissed you like he was starving.

You clutched at his shoulders as his free hand slid down your spine, gripping your ass and grinding you against the thick bulge in his sweatpants. The rough fabric dragged against your sensitive, bare skin with every roll of his hips. He broke the kiss with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, pulling back just enough to smirk at your dazed expression.

“Still with me, baby?” he murmured, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheekbone even as his other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.

Your reply came out as a whine, half-muffled. "Mmm'still here," you slurred, your eyelids fluttering like you were fighting off sleep. Your limbs felt heavy, boneless, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. Mingi’s chuckle vibrated against your cheek, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your spine.

"Good," Mingi growled against your temple, his grip tightening possessively around your waist as he shifted beneath you. His voice dropped into that rough, honeyed register that never failed to send shivers down your spine. "Cause I’m not fucking done with you yet."

His arms tightened around your waist. In one smooth, powerful motion, he stood up from the couch, lifting you effortlessly with him. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips as he held you flush against his chest, your bare core pressed firmly against the hard line of his cock straining through his sweatpants.

Mingi didn’t head for the bedroom.

Instead, he turned toward the bathroom, carrying you down the hallway with long, confident strides. Each step made his hardness grind against your soaked, sensitive pussy, drawing soft whimpers from your throat.

You buried your face in his neck, still dazed. “Min… where are we—”

He cut you off with a low chuckle, nipping sharply at your earlobe as he kicked the bathroom door open with his foot. The loud thud echoed off the tiles as he carried you inside. The lights flickered on automatically, bathing the room in a warm glow just as your back met the cool marble counter.

Mingi crowded you against it instantly, the edge biting into your hips. His hands were impatient, one yanking at the hem of the oversized shirt you’d stolen from his drawer that morning. With a sharp rip, the fabric tore at the collar. He tossed the ruined shirt aside without hesitation, his other hand already stripping off his own top.

His pupils were blown wide, dark desire swallowing the warm brown of his eyes as he drank in the sight of your fully bare body pressed against the sink. His gaze then flicked downward to his own thigh, to the glossy, slick sheen you had left on the dark fabric of his sweatpants, and his grin turned feral.

“Well, damn,” Mingi murmured, voice thick with amusement as his fingers traced the wet spot you’d made. “You really ruined my favorite sweatpants, baby.”

His laugh was low and husky, sending heat curling low in your belly. Without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and shoved the sweatpants down his hips with deliberate slowness. The fabric caught briefly on his hard cock before dropping to his ankles. He kicked them aside carelessly and stepped closer, pressing the burning heat of his bare thighs against your spread legs.

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he pressed your back against the shower tiles. The cold marble made you gasp at first, but it quickly warmed under the rising steam and the heat of your bodies. Your arms locked around his neck, fingers tangling in his wet hair as he pinned you to the wall with his hips.

The hot spray hit your back a second later, making you moan into his mouth. Mingi swallowed the sound greedily, kissing you deep and messy, his tongue sliding against yours in slow, filthy strokes that left your legs trembling around his waist as he reached between your bodies, lining himself up, and pushed inside you in one smooth, brutal thrust.

The moment his thick cock slid deep, the breath was punched straight out of your lungs. There was no teasing, no slow buildup, just the overwhelming stretch of him filling you completely. Your head fell back against the tiles with a thud as he slammed his hips forward, the force hard enough to make the wall rattle, the steam clinging to your skin as Mingi’s hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. “Fucking hell,” he growled, the word rough against your throat as he pulled back just enough to snap his hips forward again, the angle sharp enough to make your toes curl.

Hot water cascaded over both of you while Mingi fucked you against the wall. One hand slid up to tangle roughly in your hair, yanking your head back so he could scrape his teeth down your exposed throat. “You take me so fucking good,” he rasped, hips snapping up into you relentlessly. “Always so tight for me.”

He adjusted his grip, lifting you a little higher against the tiles. The new angle made his cock drag perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust. Your nails raked down his shoulders, leaving red lines he only groaned at approvingly. The wet slap of skin against skin echoed loudly, mixing with the roar of the shower and your broken moans.

Mingi’s rhythm was merciless now. Deep, hard strokes that had the shower tiles shaking behind you. Water streamed down his back and over your joined bodies, making everything slick and slippery as he drove into you.

“Shit— Min—” you sobbed, clinging to him as pleasure bordered on overwhelming. “Yeah?” he panted against your neck, voice wrecked. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”

He shifted one hand under your ass, the other bracing against the tile beside your head as he fucked you even harder. His lips found yours again in a messy, desperate kiss, swallowing every moan while his cock dragged along your walls with devastating precision.

Your thighs started trembling around his waist, that familiar coil tightening rapidly in your core. Mingi felt it, the way you clenched around him, and let out a low, filthy groan. “You close again?” he growled, teeth grazing your bottom lip. “Come on, then. Come on my cock like a good girl.” His pace turned punishing, hips slamming into you relentlessly as steam swirled thickly around you. The pressure built unbearably fast until it shattered.

You came hard with a sharp, broken scream of his name, your walls pulsing tightly around him. Mingi cursed loudly, burying his face in your neck as he fucked you through it with short, erratic thrusts. With a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into you one final time and came, spilling deep inside you while holding you pinned against the shower wall.

Your body went completely limp against his chest, forehead pressed to his collarbone as you gasped for air. The hot water had turned your skin pink, thick steam swirling around you both. Mingi’s arms stayed locked around you, strong and steady, keeping you upright while his breathing slowly evened out against your temple.

“Fuck…” he muttered, voice rough with satisfaction. His lips brushed your damp hair. “You good, baby?”

You gave a weak nod, fingers still trembling where they clutched his shoulders. Mingi chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, thumbs tracing lazy circles on your hips.“Liar,” he murmured, amused. “I can still feel you twitching around me.”

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the steady roar of the shower. Mingi trailed soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder, still buried deep inside you as he held you close.

Eventually the water turned lukewarm against your back. He reached behind you and shut it off, the sudden silence filled only by dripping water. His nose brushed your temple as he inhaled deeply, arms still locked around you like he wasn’t ready to let go.

“Should take you to bed,” he murmured, voice low and rough, but he made no move to pull out yet.

Your eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion. Mingi finally wrapped a warm towel around your shoulders, drying you with surprisingly gentle hands before sliding an arm under your knees. He lifted you effortlessly against his chest.

The movement jolted you for a second. You caught a glimpse of his sharp jaw and wet lashes before your head lolled against his shoulder.

Mingi chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as he carried you out of the bathroom. “Knew you’d crash,” he whispered, smug and fond, pressing a kiss to your damp hair while his bare feet padded down the hallway.

The bedroom door creaked softly as Mingi nudged it open with his hip, carrying you like you were something precious. He lowered you onto the bed with careful hands, letting your body sink into the familiar sheets. The comforter was warm as he drew it over your bare shoulders, tucking it gently around you.

The mattress dipped as he climbed in behind you. Without hesitation, he pulled you back against his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. His lips brushed the nape of your neck in a slow, tender kiss, a quiet contrast to the way he’d taken you earlier.

“Sleep, baby,” he whispered against the nape of your neck, voice low and warm. His fingers continued tracing slow, soothing patterns over your hip, grounding you in his embrace.

You hummed softly, already drifting as exhaustion pulled you under. Mingi pressed one last gentle kiss to your temple, then settled behind you, pulling you closer until your back was flush against his chest.